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mingi-bubu · 2 years ago

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say goodnight (and go)

Fictober22~ Prompt #20: “There’s only us.” (though it doesn’t show up in this part) bo yuan x reader uni au, dj x producer relationship, yn is such a fan of bo yuan and it shows™, title from imogen heap‘s “say goodnight and go”, just under 3.37k words

part one // part two // qcynario masterlist ^-^ // fictober22 masterlist

related to junjie, changxi, and chaoyuan’s scenarios but it’s not necessary that you read them to understand this

i don’t know much about radio dj-ing so please take whatever i say about it with a grain of salt. everything i know i’ve gotten from pop culture and not like, actual knowledge. i also experimented with the narrative structure a bit, so let me know what you think of it :D

“Hey! Turn the radio up!” You call to Changxi as you start wiping menus off. “It’s almost time for FM.211.”

Changxi makes a comment under his breath along the lines of “We get it, you like him” as he passes you, and you quickly twist the damp rag and hit him on the arm with it. He hisses, rubbing the now turning-pink mark on his arm.

“Shut up, Changxi.” You say, taking the dry rag and wiping the small droplets of sudsy water off the menu.

“He’s right, though,” Chaoyuan says from behind the bar. He’s wiping down the bar top, and you can see some dried clay in his hair. You didn’t notice it earlier when you were giving him drink orders, nor when you were taking those drinks to the bachelorette party.

“Didn’t get a chance to shower before you got here?” You ask, looking at the light gray areas in his dark brown hair.

“Nah,” he replies easily, running a hand through his hair. He sighs at the clay dust that falls from his fingers onto the part of the bar he just wiped off. “I was helping a classmate with their sculpture. They’re more of a 2D artist than a 3D one, and so they were having some difficulty with-”

You cut him off, looking up at the speakers in the ceiling, “Shh! He’s started.” Changxi and Chaoyuan just share a look, used to your antics by now.

“To all my followers, hello. Welcome to Radio FM.211. I am your host, Bo Yuan-gēge. Welcome to my radio world.”

You mouth along with the introduction, going back to your task. Bo Yuan was your favorite radio DJ that the university had for its radio station. Your friends, hosts of the morning show “Bazi and Baatjih: Breakfast with B-Squared,” have long since stopped trying to compete with him for your favor. They both have accepted that they are second to him when it comes to having you as a fan. They still tease you about it, of course, but none of you take it to heart anymore.

However, due to when their show is on and when his show is on, they don’t know him all that well. They talk to him during the monthly meeting only; the one that the supervisor has where all the DJs come in, and they go over the statistics and how everyone’s show is going.

The intro music to Bo Yuan’s show starts, something that he had admitted to composing himself on his show during his biweekly Q&A segment a while ago, and you settle into the mindless routine of the restaurant’s closing tasks. Changxi and Chaoyuan work around you, the three of you a well-oiled machine.

Bo Yuan goes through the standard updates, the time and temperature, and talks a little about how the traffic is looking in and around campus before getting into his first segment of the two hours his show is on for. “As always,” he says, “our first segment is Happy Corner. Let’s see what wisdom the fortune cookie has for us tonight.” You smile as you hear the sounds of the cellophane opening and the cookie cracking. “Tonight’s fortune is: The time is always right to do what is right.” He pauses, letting the words have their moment.

“That’s kind of cheesy, don’t you think?” Changxi says loudly. You look to your right and see he has started putting the chairs upside-down on the tables.

“It’s a fortune cookie,” Chaoyuan says back, restacking the various glasses for drinks tomorrow night. “It would be weird if it wasn’t.” You stick out your tongue at them before laughing with them. The three of you fall silent again as the radio show continues on. The only other sounds in the restaurant are those of the clinking of bottles and glasses behind the bar and the tables and chairs being moved around for tomorrow’s lunch crowd.

“… and with that on our minds,” Bo Yuan says, “let’s listen to a new song from KUN.” The track starts playing, the night goes on, and it feels endless in the company of your friends and wrapped in the voice of someone you care for.

Sometimes when you’re asked why you like him, you answer with praise for his personality and his calm demeanor.

When you’re more playful about it, you answer with his looks, his smile.

When you think about it to yourself, why you like Bo Yuan so much, you think that it’s about the comfort he brings you with each show. His Happy Corner segment is something you look forward to, especially on bad days. Knowing that he is able to find even the slightest joy in a bad day is something that wraps a blanket around your heart. Often times, you find yourself doing the same, trying to find even one good thing about a bad day.

And it passes like that for weeks, you listening to him over radio, Changxi and Chaoyuan teasing you about your crush, more fortunes and little stories every night. But everything changes when Junjie and Baatjih rush into the café that you and Changxi were meeting them in.

“YN!” Junjie’s eyes light up when he sees you and Changxi in the corner. He quickly makes his way to you two, Baatjih following close behind.

“We have big news,” Baatjih says, their joy evident in their smile.

“What,” Changxi says as you finish chewing on your bite of cake, “you two engaged now?”

You laugh. “It feels like it was just last month that you said you two were finally dating.” Wiping away a fake tear, you lean into Changxi and look up at him, hands clasped in front of your heart. “Oh, they grow up so fast!”

You and Changxi are able to hold it together all of three seconds before bursting into laughter at how quickly Junjie turned red.

Baatjih, on the other hand, responds by saying, “Fine, I guess we won’t tell you what happened today at the monthly meeting.”

“No, wait, I wanna know,” you say, straightening up and running your hand through you hair, pushing it out of your eyes. And you truly did. While you wouldn’t be caught dead in the broadcasting booth live, you did find the production side of the university’s radio shows fascinating. “Are you guys finally getting that new soundboard that I was telling you about? The one that the international student Jihoon was excited about?”

“Yeah, actually!” Junjie says. He was just as interested in the production aspect as you were, though he preferred to be the talent, and it was something you had bonded over when you met in your sophomore year required math course. “We’re getting a new computer, too, though it is going to take a while before we can use it. We have to clone the old hard drive onto the new co-”

Baatjih cuts him off, putting their hand over his mouth. “You can tell YN about that later. The more important thing is that our supervisor decided to have all the DJs as guests on each other’s shows. Claimed that it was to help boost morale and then started throwing a bunch of statistics at us. I tuned out then.” They made a face letting you know just how boring they found it. “Anyways, all of this to say,” Baatjih paused to take a breath, “Bo Yuan is actually going to be someone we talk to more than just once a month and occasionally in our groupchat.”

You were speechless. Your friends were going to get to have your favorite radio DJ on their show.

Changxi lets out a low whistle. “Well, damn,” he leans back in his chair.

You can feel him turn to look at you, and you feel Junjie and Baatjih’s eyes on you too, but you can’t find anything to say. How are you supposed to express how you feel to your friends when you can’t even articulate it to yourself?

“Do you want to be in the booth with us during?” Junjie asks, coming to the (correct) conclusion that YN.exe has stopped working. “Obviously, you wouldn’t be on-air with us, but you could see him. Maybe ask for a picture or whatever afterwards.”

Baatjih nodded enthusiastically beside him. “You’ve hung out in the booth before during our show, too, so it’s fine. As long as Linkai is able to work like usual, he’s fine with it, too. We ran it by him before we came here.”

Your heart warmed at your friends’ words. “I really do have the best friends ever,” you say, a little sappy at it all.

“Best duo in the business!” Baatjih says, all swagger and confidence radiating from them as they swing their arm around Junjie’s shoulders. He and Changxi share a look at Baatjih’s actions, but the four of you settle into a new conversation. You and Junjie talking about the updates that will soon be happening. Changxi and Baatjih talking about how it was going with his roommate and their fake dating story. Your voices blend in with the hustle and bustle of the café, occasionally looping one of the workers in, as well, when Yao Chi or Huaiwei passed by.

As you got into bed that night, you pictured how it would be watching Bo Yuan in his element, microphone in front of him and headphones on. Maybe meeting his eyes when he smiles at something that Junjie or Baatjih says, or maybe something that Linkai sarcastically comments over his mic. You hold yourself back from picturing anything more, from hoping too hard. After all, it’s better to not shoot for the stars when you don’t even know if you can get off the ground.

When you’re asked why you like him, you say, “He makes me want to be the best Me I can.”

Linkai gives you a nod as you slip into the studio, trying your best to be quiet. There’s still a little over ten minutes until Junjie and Baatjih’s morning show begins, and Linkai is already behind the soundboard getting everything prepared for the show. Junjie and Baatjih were already in the booth, testing the mics and the connection to their headphones. You wave at your friends from behind Linkai, and they give you a smile. Baatjih is swiveling in their chair, obviously ready for the show to start. Junjie is standing, leaning over the microphone arm to try to adjust it properly. You can hear, just barely, the low murmur of the couple talking and the microphone being moved. It isn’t until you sit down next to Linkai that Bo Yuan walks in, his hair hidden under a navy blue bucket hat that matches Junjie’s own. He goes to the other two immediately, pausing to drop his bag on the floor next to Junjie.

“Did they coordinate that,” you ask Linkai jokingly, watching Bo Yuan. His back is towards the sound booth, and you can’t but help feel slightly disappointed. He didn’t even look in the sound booth’s direction once when he walked in. You didn’t consider at all that he might be one of those people who only interact with the faces of the entertainment, and not the helping hands.

He glances up from the switches to see what you’re talking about and snorts. “All four of us did.”

“Four?” You watch Linkai as he gives you an exaggerated put-upon sigh, the effect ruined by his smile seconds later as he fishes a bucket hat out of his bag. It doesn’t match the other two, a surprising blue and red tie-dyed pattern, and you point out as much.

“Just wait,” he says mysteriously, turning back to the computer. He raises the volume level of the mics in the studio so that you could hear your friends and their guest above a murmur. He waves his hand at the three DJs to get their attention and holds up his hat. Baatjih laughs, and you swear you would’ve heard it even without the mics. They bend down in their chair, disappearing for a moment, before popping back up. On their head is the matching pair to Linkai’s own hat.

Baatjih flashes you a peace sign, arm extended and wrist turning from left to right in a wave, as you try to stifle your laughter from behind your hand. A part of you knows that Linkai and Baatjih must have planned something to this effect, an attempt to distract you from the nerves that were sure to come as soon as you meet Bo Yuan’s eyes. You appreciate their attempt, but it’s futile.

Bo Yuan turns around and meets your eyes. You feel your breath catch. You know Junjie and Baatjih are chatting along in the background, but you don’t process a single word they say. You had thought his pictures on the university radio’s social media showed how handsome he is, but in person he was even more attractive than you expected. Despite his eyes being shadowed by the brim of the hat, they were bright. A small smile was resting on his face, and you feel your heart speed up just the slightest. He’s wearing a white T-shirt underneath an oversized navy blue windbreaker. The T-shirt was tucked into a pair of light colored jeans that suited him just fine. He had a chain necklace on that shone when it caught the light, and he had several rings adorning both hands.

“I’m sorry for not saying greeting the two of you when I walked in,” he apologizes. “I didn’t realize that Linkai was training another producer.” His tone is slightly embarrassed, and you wave his apology away. You let him know non-verbally that it’s alright, and you smile at him, hoping that you don’t look like a crazed fan.

Linkai interrupts any chance of you explaining to Bo Yuan that you aren’t a trainee for the booth, though it’s not as if the chance was strong to begin with. You didn’t have a microphone and, while you knew your way around a soundboard thanks to Linkai, you didn’t have the confidence to suddenly use his. You hear the click of his mic turning on. “Thirty seconds to air.” His mic clicks off, and he wordlessly hands you a headset that matches his. As soon as the radio show begins, all the sound is to be heard through the headphones rather than the speakers at the corners of the walls and ceiling. It was something that Linkai started doing after Junjie and Baatjih made it clear that they, and the fans, think that Linkai’s comments were more than welcome.

The both of you settle back into your chairs, and you watch as he raises his hands, counting down the last ten seconds of the song for them.

“Good morning!” Junjie drawls, slipping into his Bazi personality.

“Welcome one and all to Bazi and Baatjih: Breakfast with B-Squared!” Baatjih spreads their arms out in presentation, though you don’t know why. There were only five of you there.

You nudge Linkai and raise an eyebrow, nodding your head in their direction.

“The head of the comm department wanted the so-called crossover episodes to be filmed for possible future use by the university,” he explains, voice quiet. “Most DJs were already filming their spots anyways, but because this might be used in a future promotion or something for the university, all the DJs are doing their best to make it visually interesting.”

Your mouth forms a small ‘o’ in understanding. You cross your arms and turn back to your friends.

“Today’s show is going to be a little different,” Baatjih says, tossing their hair over their shoulder in a carefully practiced careless move. You know this move. They were practicing it a while ago when they were waiting for you to get off shift at the restaurant. “We have a guest with us today! The host of the night show FM.211, our university’s very own, Bo Yuan-gēge!”

“When you send us your messages this morning,” Junjie continues, “use the hashtag ‘BCubed’ so we can see what you guys think.”

“This morning’s show is also being streamed live,” something you didn’t know, “so if you have the opportunity,” Baatjih says, “make sure to tune in!”

“I think that’s enough out of the two of us, eh Baatjih? Why don’t we let Yuan-gēge introduce himself?” Junjie and Baatjih both turn their focus to the third DJ.

“Hello, everyone,” Bo Yuan starts, “as Bazi and Baatjih have said, I am Bo Yuan-gēge, and I am happy to be here this morning.”

“It’s a bit earlier than you’re used too, huh, Yuan-gēge?” Junjie jokes.

Bo Yuan smiles and he agrees. “Usually when I’m on, most of my listeners are on their way to sleep or on their way to a party.”

“Or getting off shift,” Baatjih adds. “Bazi and I have a friend who has their coworker put your show on as they’re closing and cleaning the restaurant they work at.”

Your eyes widen and you stare at Baatjih. They make a point to not look in your direction, but it doesn’t take British particle physicist Dr. Brian Cox to realize that of the five people here, you’re the only one it could be. Otherwise, why bring it up in the first place? Next to you, Linkai chuckles, while Junjie has a little smirk on his face. You love your friends, you do, but you hate your friends.

Bo Yuan also very carefully doesn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes on his hosts, and says, “Ah? That’s great to hear. I’m happy to make someone’s closing shift a little bit better.” Despite your mortification, you can’t help but swoon just the tiniest bit, knowing that he’s talking about you.

Linkai looks over at you and rolls his eyes as he turns back to the DJs. “Yeah, yeah, you all have fans. Let’s get to the music now, can we?”

“And there is the voice of our lovely Xiǎo Guǐ,” Baatjih jokes.

Bazi laughs, scrolling through his laptop. “Xiǎo Guǐ, you have plenty of fans in the tag right now. ‘I saw the #BCubed promo picture and Xiǎo Guǐ is so punk rock boyfie coded!’”

Baatjih picks another message. “‘I would pay real money to have #BCubed Xiǎo Guǐ dismiss me on air live’? Something to consider for the next fundraiser, I think,” Baatjih struggles to keep their voice level, fighting the smile that is trying to escape.

Junjie complains about the #BCubed tag being filled with other messages like this. “Xiǎo Guǐ, why are Dá Lín like this?”

Linkai turns on his mic and says with a cocky smile, “Sometimes when you got it, you got it.” His mic clicks off, and you mime being sick from what he said.

Bo Yuan had been chuckling throughout the exchange in the background. “Surprising how your show has Dá Lín being so outwardly, um, horny considering how early it’s on. My Bó Lèmén never act up like this.”

You staunchly ignore Linkai’s elbow to your ribs, the both of you knowing damn well what you say when you get drunk. The rest of the show proceeds like that between songs; Linkai being a smart-ass and the three DJs having to deal with him and the thirst comments that flood in every time. Junjie and Baatjih do keep to their general structure despite everything that had been changed for this special event. As always, they have their Student Music hour. Several student compositions played during that time, ranging from hip-hop to hard bop jazz, which wasn’t something you had heard before.

The show ended with Bo Yuan thanking the other two DJs for the opportunity to be on their show, and inviting them to guest on his nighttime show in the future. You look down at your phone in surprise, the clock there showing you how fast time flew. The three of them make their way out of the studio and into the producing booth.

“So,” Baatjih says, taking their bucket hat off and shoving it into their backpack, “coffee?”

#bo yuan scenarios #cpop scenarios #qcynarios #say goodnight (and go)#fictober22 #into1 scenarios #jae.works

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mingi-bubu · 3 years ago

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One of the qcynarios I have left to write, YN is gonna be the biggest fucking simp oh my God we're talking love-at-first-sight-hair-twirling-walk-into-a-door simping

My YN's that I've written so far are v cool but there's no full out simping the way I do for mingi and xukun and we're gonna change that <3

#qcynarios #now to figure out who....#bo yuan's is kinda like that but... i wanna go further. we wanna walk into walls bc yn is too distracted looking at x person's eyes or smth #jae.writes

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mingi-bubu · 3 years ago

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me: *talks about unine and cpop*

also me: *flagrantly ignores the qcynarios im in the process of writing/still have yet to write*

#it's about the duality of man #qcynarios #jae.text #about.jae

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mingi-bubu · 4 years ago

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i am once again asking for the motivation to write these qcynarios

#qcynarios #ughhhh i have like 5 of them sitting in my drafts all at separate stages of completion #jae.text

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mingi-bubu · 5 years ago

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some time this afternoon between 1 and 3 pm est, i will post the first part of huaiwei’s scenario

#qcynarios #Lian Huaiwei #i know theres like only one or two people who actually care but as always #almost everything about the content i create is self indulgent so is this mainly for me anyways? yes.#updates #jae.writes

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mingi-bubu · 5 years ago

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I’m Slowly Diving, I Can’t Let You Go

Lian Huaiwei x Reader

angst, unrequited pining (but is it really?), friends to friends? to lovers, directly interacts with Junjie and Hanyu’s scenarios

qcynario masterlist ^-^

part i | part ii | part iii

“Why is it so hard to be friends with you? I can’t just be friends with you!”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

“What if I want something more?”

“No…No…”

“What are you so afraid of!?”

"What if I lose you, Wei? What do I do then!?”

“You aren’t going to lose me, YN.”

“You don’t know that, Huaiwei.“

"Yes, YN, I do.”

“No. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

The argument played in your mind like a movie reel as you stared into the black emptiness of your room. The argument with Huaiwei was in early-February but here you were in early-March, staring blankly as you cursed your pride and fear again and again. You haven’t spoken with him unless necessary in the one class you shared with him this semester. You had met him the year before in a traditional literature class and quickly became friends. How could you not? He was impossible to ignore and had such a kind and magnetic personality.

One day after class, you had gone to this neo-traditional cafe that just opened on campus and you bumped into him, literally. He was sweeping and you didn’t see him coming as you stared at the decor inside. After that day, you two were practically inseparable. He was your best friend outside of your roommates. Even now you still have him saved as “Xiao Lian” in your phone, a selfie of him and you from the university’s New Year celebration as your homescreen. Some things you still haven’t been able to leave behind…

You unlock your phone and stare at it, the clock in the upper corner showing 04:27. You sigh quietly, knowing you won’t be able to fall back asleep. Getting up, you hope your roommates Xiao Yang and Baatjih, don’t hear you moving around. You’ve affectionately called Xiao Yang, Little Sheep, by the nickname you gave them when you were both younger. You still think it’s funny, even after a year, how Baatjih refuses to call them the same, instead choosing to call them Xiao Miemie. You grab a cardigan, your phone, and the charger, and head into the living room.

You had left your notes for the first today’s classes sitting out the night before and you decide to work on figuring out which instrument would work better with the given prose your professor had given. Professor Tsai had given the assignment a few days prior, insisting that it was supposed to be fun with the exams coming up before spring break. She had said she wanted a simple but unique melody for this, giving each of you in the class a different piece to work with. You couldn’t help but wonder what Huaiwei had gotten, if he was struggling as much as you.

Sighing, you set your things down on the table by your notes and make a cup of tea. As you wait for the water to heat up, you breathe out, barely loud enough for you to hear, “I’m sorry, Huaiwei. I’m sorry.”

–

“How long have you been up?” Baatjih’s concerned voice came from behind you, startling you out of your composition and causing you to draw a jagged line through several measures.

Pulling your bag to you, looking for an eraser, you say, “Do you really want the answer to that?”

Baatjih leans on the kitchen counter across from you and munches thoughtfully on an apple. “Mm, I think that it would just make me sad.” There was a smile on their face, trying to lighten the mood. However, you could still see the worry in their eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, brushing aside their worry and your guilt.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been up earlier than me this week,” Baatjih says, setting the half-eaten apple on the countertop. “Once or twice? I wouldn’t say anything. But Junjie and I run the university’s morning show.” Their brows furrow as they look at you as if they were trying to find the right words. “You’ve been up before me all week,” they continue, “I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, swallowing down the irritation that was building. You’ve been more touchy, more quick to anger and more prone to snapping at people, due to your sleep schedule fucking you over. Opening your eyes, you say, “I’m okay, seriously. I’m just stressed out about some stuff. Seriously, everything is fine, I swear.”

They bit their lip as they looked off to the side as if they want to say something more.

“What is it?” You ask, looking back down to your papers, working on rewriting the notations that accidentally got erased along with the jagged line.

“Well, it’s just…” Baatjih trailed off, picking up their apple and fidgeting with the stem.

“It’s about Huaiwei, isn’t it, YN,” Xiao Yang’s voice chimes in suddenly, startling both you and Baatjih. Your heads turn towards the hallway where Xiao Yang stood with their toothbrush in hand.

“What? No, of course not. I hardly think about him anymore. Who-aiwei ammiright?” You know that you’re being painfully obvious, but at the same time you’re proud of the pun, a small voice inside you saying he would’ve laughed. You reach for your phone to text him that but your fingers curl into a fist instead and you bring it back to your lap. The ache in your heart increases and none of you speak. You can feel yourself tensing up the longer the silence goes on.

“I just…” Baatjih said, looking at your phone before focusing on you again. “I just don’t understand why you don’t say something to him?”

The irritation that you thought you had suppressed successfully rose again like a tidal wave. “Why don’t you say something to Junjie then?” You snapped at them.

As you watched Baatjih’s expression change from worried to hurt and angry, you regret everything that happened since you woke up.

“It’s not that simple, YN. We work together. Our show depends on our interactions, making sure we get high ratings regardless of how we feel about the other.” They pushed off the counter, apple in hand. “Stop being such a fucking coward, YN.” The venom in their voice makes you flinch.

You stare down at your notes as they pass you. You hear Baatjih and Xiao Yang whispering and a few moments later, the door to your apartment was closing, leaving you and Xiao Yang in a tense silence. Still staring at your notes, you felt a heavy lump in your throat, guilt overwhelming you. You know how hard it is for Baatjih to work with Junjie everyday and not say anything. You two have had long nights in the past where they vent about what Junjie did so that they can go into the radio booth the next morning with less overwhelming feelings; that’s why you knew where to strike where it would hurt them the most.

“YN,” you hear Xiao Yang say behind you. Their tone was filled with disappointment and you feel disgust at your actions choking your throat.

You didn’t answer; you couldn’t. What could you possibly say that would change what happened? Your eyes burned with unshed tears.

“You will apologize to Baatjih tonight,” Xiao Yang’s tone brooked no argument.

You nod quietly and you hear them walk back into the bathroom, the sink turning on.

–

“There’s something about autumn that makes me nostalgic for spring,” you say, leaning back on your hands, feeling the cold of the brick wall beneath you. You tilt your face up, enjoying how the cool breeze plays with your hair.

“Oh? Is it for the plants? ��Seeing how everything comes alive?” Huaiwei asks and you see him copy you out of the corner of your eye.

“No, it doesn’t have much at all to do with the plants living or dying,” you say, “I think it’s more to do with the fact that the cool air brings back memories from spring? Like, right when winter starts to melt away and spring makes itself known. That precipice of cold and warm where the weather can’t quite make up its mind. It brings back memories of meeting people for the first time and having them become people you can’t imagine going a day without talking to.”

You hear more than see Huaiwei change positions, the denim of his jeans scraping softly against the concrete as he pulls his leg up, turning to look at you.

Neither of you speak, the ambient sounds of people chattering as they walk past you and the wind blowing leaves across the ground, the crisp edges catching on the small cracks and bumps in the sidewalk, the sounds of traffic, all of this fills the silence. You feel at peace, your fingers growing numb against the stone. You can feel the heat from his hand next to yours.

“I think…” You trail off. “I think that this kind of weather feels like falling in love.”

–

Walking into class that morning after the fight with Baatjih was. Well, it sucked, to put it lightly. You felt the guilt lying in your stomach, your bones heavy with the knowledge you hurt yet another important person in your life. You didn’t have the energy to dress as you normally would when going to that class, opting instead for a dark, mismatching green hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. Honestly, you had just thrown on the first things you saw in your room when Xiao Yang had been taking their shower. You knew that using that time to escape from the suffocating disappointment lingering in the air was not necessarily the best idea, but, hey, it was the only one you had.

Running away? Seems like the only plan you have been following as of late…

Your hood was up, shielding yourself from nothing but protecting yourself from everything. You make your way to your seat, everything about you screaming that you would rather be somewhere, anywhere, else. As you unpack your laptop and notes, you had this feeling of being watched, of someone staring at you. You lift your head, pushing your hood back slightly so you could find the source of the watching. Your eyes meet Huaiwei’s dark ones and you feel a jolt of longing go through you, missing not for the first time his presence in your life. He looked like he was going to say something, breaking the month-long silence you held, but you turned away, pulling your hood further over your face, eyes burning as another wave of guilty shame rolls through you.

You feel your stomach start to turn and decide that class today just isn’t worth it. Would you regret this later? Oh, most definitely. Are you running away again? Yes, yes you were. Could you bring yourself to care? You hesitated for a moment before digging through your bag, pulling out your half-finished composition. You put your other things back in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, your hood falling down at the motion. You walk down to the front of the class and stand a little off to the side of Professor Tsai’s desk.

“Professor Tsai?” You ask, your voice small. When she turns to you, you hand over the composition. “I’m not feeling well and I thought I could power through it for class but it’s gotten worse. I only have this much done, but I was wondering if you could look it over and give me suggestions? I feel stuck on this part here,” you motion to where you had drawn the surprised line earlier that morning.

Professor Tsai took the papers from you, concern written across her face. “Go and rest, YN. You don’t normally do things like this, so I will not count this against you. Send me an email later and we can discuss a time for you to catch up on what you missed today.”

You give her a nod and she dismisses you. As you turn, you pull your hood up, but you catch Huaiwei’s eye again. He looked worried. You jerk your hood up the final few inches and walk out of the classroom and into the emptying halls. You can’t go back to your apartment just yet but you could go to the library…

You pause for a moment at the sound of footsteps behind you but you continue walking. There were still students milling about and you were near the main hallway. The chances of someone wanting to talk to you were slim to none.

“YN.” A hand grabbed your wrist and you turn, ready to tell the person to fuck all the way off. Seeing Huaiwei, his warm, brown eyes filled with worry and his gentle features frowning, made the words die on your tongue.

“Xiao Lian,” the nickname slips out of your mouth easily, as if it had only been a day that you hadn’t spoken to him. His grip on your wrist burns through the sleeve of your hoodie and you shudder, his hand tightening instinctively. It didn’t hurt, he would never hurt you he had promised once, but you gasp nonetheless. Swallowing, you pull your arm back slightly, trying to leave him. “Huaiwei, what do you want?”

He takes this as an invitation and steps closer to you, and your breath catches as his other hand comes up to rest on your cheek before he remembers the last time you had talked, the reason that you were in this position now. He clears his throat and steps away, giving you space to breathe, letting go of your wrist. “Are you okay, YN?”

#Lian Huaiwei #lian huaiwei x reader #cpop scenarios #scenarios #qcynarios #huaiwei x reader #i'm slowly diving i can't let you go #lian huaiwei scenarios #huaiwei scenarios #cpop #jae.works

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mingi-bubu · 4 years ago

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I’m Slowly Diving, I Can’t Let You Go

Lian Huaiwei x Reader

angst, unrequited pining (but is it really?), friends to friends? to lovers, directly interacts with Junjie and Hanyu’s scenarios

qcynario masterlist ^-^

part i | part ii | part iii

Huaiwei clears his throat and takes a step back, allowing you room to breathe. He lets go of your wrist and asks, “Are you okay, YN?”

You let out an awkward laugh, grimacing at the sound. “I’m fine, Xi-,” you cut yourself off, “Huaiwei. I’m just not feeling well.”

He doesn’t reply, just looks at you, and you feel like a sample under a microscope.

“You still have it,” he says quietly, frowning slightly in confusion.

You tilt your head, mimicking his expression, wondering what he means. You know you should go, but God, talking to him after so long... You feel your teeth ache with longing to go into his arms like before, to look next to you and have his shadow resting by yours.

“My hoodie,” he says, gesturing at the green hoodie you were wearing.

“Oh,” you say. The both of you stand there in silence awkwardly before you continue, “Do... Do you want it back or...?” You pull the front of it out a little bit for lack of anything better to do with your hands. Two students pass you, eyeing the exchange oddly.

You see Huaiwei’s ears turn red in embarrassment as he shakes his head and hands, “No! Uh, I mean, no, it’s, um, yours. You look better in it.”

You roll your lips into your mouth wishing you were literally anywhere else. “Well, um, I just,” you gesture to the now empty hall behind you. You take a few steps back, willing the conversation to end there.

“No, yeah, of course, if you aren’t feeling well,” he says, letting you take the obvious out. You give him a jerky nod before turning and continuing your walk down the hall. Maybe going back to the apartment was a better idea. The tension there cannot be worse than whatever is happening here. You make it maybe halfway to your escape, or um rather, to the door to the steps outside when you hear him call your name again.

You don’t turn around to face him, instead just stand in the middle of the hallway. His voice is still far from you as he says, “Why... Why didn’t you ever text me back after that day?” You pull on your backpack straps and walk away, leaving the silence ringing in both of your ears.

“I don’t like looking next to me and not seeing you with me,” he admits quietly, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk.

“It’s only been a few days, Huaiwei,” you chide gently, a fond smile accompanying laughter.

He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You soak in the warmth of his smile and wrap your arm around his waist. “A few days too many, YN. A few days too many.”

“So how were those ‘few days too many’ without me while I was visiting my parents?” You ask, trying to match your steps with his, fingers tightening in the fabric of his coat unconsciously when you messed up.

He whines about only having Yao Chi to hang out with, which you know was a lie; you saw Hanyu’s social media updates. The four of them, Hanyu, Yao Chi, Junjie, and Huaiwei, had spent the time together gaming and then getting dragged around by Yao Chi so he could practice his photography skills for his cousin’s wedding at the end of the month. You roll your eyes jokingly when he starts dramatically monologing about the feeling of being abandoned.

“Oh my God, you’re so dramatic, Wei,” you pull away from him and push him gently to sit on one of the park benches. He propped his chin on his hands, staring at you in amusement as you adopted a haughty and, arguably much more dramatic, posture. “This,” you say in an exaggerated tone, “is how you do drama!”

You recite a few lines from the drama you were watching with your roommates and in the middle of your speech, Huaiwei mumbles something. You lean towards him, stepping closer, and hold a hand to your ear. “What did you say, Xiao Lian?” You singsong with a smile, your eyes crinkling as well, but it slowly falls away when you see his serious expression.

He takes your wrist, pulls you into his lap, and buries his head between your shoulder blades. “Why is it so hard to be friends with you?” He repeats, clearly this time. Your heart stops at his next words, “I can’t just be friends with you!”

Your hands cover his that were wrapped around your waist. Your voice comes out shaky as you say, “What are you talking about?” You pray to any gods listening that you are wrong. “What do you mean?”

You feel him lift his head and he tries to catch your hand in his. “What if I want something more?”

You close your eyes as visions of what could be flash through your mind. To say you had never looked at Huaiwei in a romantic way would be a lie. He’s handsome and respectful and caring and funny. Of course you had thought about him like that, of what kissing him would be like. Of what holding his hand and having it mean something would be like. Your hands tighten around his. But your old fears creep in, turning comforting thoughts into a twisted farce. You curse Dejun as you tell Huaiwei no. You don’t think he heard you the first time so you repeat it again. “No...No...” Your voice is weak, your throat tightening with emotion.

You pull at Huaiwei’s arms, trying to escape his embrace. What was once a safe haven is now a rocky shore, and you were the boat helpless against the oncoming storm.

“What are you so afraid of!?” He asks, letting you go. You quickly scramble to your feet and take a few steps away from him, turning away slightly. You feel the bite of the winter’s air more strongly now that you were out of Huaiwei’s embrace.

Taking a deep, quivering breath you say, “What if I loose you, Wei?” You watch the cloud of your breath dissipate in the cold afternoon. “What do I do then!?” Your question comes out louder than you intended, startling you.

Huaiwei stands up and walks slowly towards you, taking your cold hand in his again when he gets close enough. His tone is gentle, eyes soft, as he says, “You aren’t going to lose me, YN.” He laughs helplessly at the end of his sentence, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

You want so badly to believe him, every single bone in your body crying out to just relax into his hold, to let him catch you when you fall. To let him love you the way that you want to be, the way that you deserve to be, loved. But you remember how you had thought you wouldn’t lose Dejun either. The cold stare of his dark eyes, the anger in his tone... You barely made it through that with Dejun. You can’t imagine how much worse it would be with Huaiwei. You don’t know how much it would break you. “You don’t know that, Huaiwei,” you say. You can feel the tears starting to form, your vision growing more blurry by the second.

He takes your other hand and pulls them to his heart, the warmth of his body radiating from under his hoodie, his coat open to the winter cold. His hands are cold but they feel like you are being burned. He brings your hands to his lips and murmurs against them, “Yes, YN, I do.” His eyes are so earnest, his entire being radiating love and hope.

And you, God, you were going to kill his smile with one fell swoop. “No.” You reply, and even to your own ears you sound unsure. Clearing your throat, you take a step back, your hands slipping from his, his fingers lingering as long as they could against yours. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” You feel the tears slip down your face, the wind biting at the trail they leave behind. You start walking away, still facing him, and repeat yourself. “Huaiwei, I’m sorry.”

After all, what can you say when you extinguish the sun?

Instead of going to the library, you decide on just going back to your apartment instead. That interaction with Huaiwei jarred you and you just wanted to curl up into a ball under your blankets and maybe stare blankly at the wall for a few hours. But, you decide, I don’t need to head back immediately...

You wander around campus for a while, stopping briefly for a small lunch at the sushi place on campus with the hanging fish sign. Eventually you stop procrastinating the inevitable and start for your apartment. On your way back, though, you make a detour at a corner convenience shop and grab some of Baatjih’s favorite foods. And then thinking about how you had treated Xiao Yang, you grab a few of their favorite snacks as well. After paying, you leave and find yourself waiting at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk sign to turn, with an elderly woman. She has a bundle in her arms and seems to be shying away from the cold.

“Grandma, are you alright? Do you need help crossing the street?” You ask, already shifting your bags to one hand to assist her.

She turns to you, a smile on her face. “Thank you, dear, but I believe I’ll be fine.”

You open your mouth to respond but fall short at the sight of the bundle in her arms. It was...An iguana? Wrapped in a tan little blanket?

“Um, yes, of course, okay,” you sputter, still in confusion.

“This is Liè Xī,” she tells you, tilting her head down towards the iguana.

She... She named her iguana “Iguana”? What kind of Zhang Yixing nonsense- “Ah,” you say, giving her a confused smile. “Nice to meet you, Liè Xī.”

The iguana stared at you, its eyes unblinking. You were saved from having to make more small talk with the lizard when the light changed. Despite the old woman’s rejection of your offer, you still walk with her across the street, just in case. She parts with you at the opposite corner, thanking you, before turning to the right to continue on her own path. You stare after her for a few seconds, still trying to wrap your head around the iguana thing, but shake it off and continue forward.

You can’t wait to tell your roommates what you just saw.

Walking into the apartment was akin to that of walking in on a date. The smell of food danced in the air as piano jazz music played softly in the background. You heard voices laughing and chatting and you wonder if you were in the right apartment for a moment. Glancing down at the shoes scattered by the door assures you that you are. Frowning in confusion, you take off your shoes and slowly make your way to the kitchen with the intent to put the groceries away. You pause when you hear a familiar laugh coming from the dining area followed by Baatjih’s voice.

“I’m going to get some more wine, does anyone else want anything?” A chorus of no’s ring out and you scurry towards the kitchen, trying to keep the bags from rustling too much.

You make it to the kitchen before Baatjih and are in the process of setting the groceries down when they enter. They look happy, a drastic difference from that morning. Their eyes are glowing and the apples of their cheeks seem to be pulled up in a permanent smile. It’s almost like a weight has been lifted from their shoulders. You smile reflexively, seeing your roommate and friend look so happy, before you remember how the morning had gone. Your smile falls and your eyes drift to your hands, still holding the bags.

Baatjih watched you as you opened your mouth a few times to say something, anything, to apologize. “I got you some more apples and more of that grass jelly drink you like and-” You stop rambling when Baatjih’s warm hand covers your cold ones.

“YN,” they say, tilting their head to catch your eye, “I forgive you.”

The weight that had been crushing your ribs the entire day lifted and you look at them, hopeful. “You’re positive?“

Baatjih laughs, wrapping their arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. “Absolutely. Now, hurry up and help me bring more drinks to the table. We’ve just started eating dinner.”

You laugh too, accepting the hug gratefully. “Who’s ‘we’?” You ask, quickly unpacking the groceries while Baatjih searches for the wine.

“Me, Xiao Miemie, Hanyu, and Junjie.”

You nod, placing the grass jelly drinks in the fridge. “Wait, what?” You say into the fridge, the sentence finally registering in your mind.

“Aha!” You turn around to see Baatjih holding a wine bottle aloft in victory. Refocusing on you, they say, “I told Junjie how I felt.”

You felt like that blinking white guy gif, trying to absorb the information. Baatjih watches you, amused. “Oh my God!” You run up to them, giving Baatjih a strong hug. “I am so happy for you.” When you pull back from the hug, you can see that Baatjih’s eyes are a little wet. You sure that you look the same, so incredibly pleased for your friend. As you walk back with them to the dining room, however, you can’t help but feel an ache in your heart.

You don’t think about it further; you already know who it’s for. You press your tongue to the back of your teeth, pushing the feeling down. You were not going to ruin tonight.

“Look who showed up!” A loud welcome from the other three people at the table and a glass of wine with amazing food (courtesy of Xiao Yang and Hanyu) had comfort settling in your bones.

You ignore the feeling of loneliness as you sit there, bracketed on either side by the couples.

It is enough in this moment to be surrounded by your friends.

It has to be.

#Lian Huaiwei #lian huaiwei x reader #cpop scenarios #scenarios #qcynarios #huaiwei x reader #lian huaiwei scenarios #huaiwei scenarios #cpop #I'm slowly diving I can't let you go #jae.works

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