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sleepless-in-starbucks · 3 years ago

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I Want Us Both to Eat Well

Ao3

Summary: Remy might not be great with self-care, but they've got the 'taking care of Logan' thing down to a science. And Logan can work with that. Content: Overworking, mentions of poor eating/sleeping habits, caretaking, it’s pretty soft overall, nonbinary remy Pairing: Losleep

Despite what some may think, Logan didn’t have the most demanding of jobs within the mindscape. He wouldn’t call his work a walk in the park, of course, but when he was largely tasked with matters such as scheduling and memory allocation, versus such things as emotional processing or idea creation, Logan had no plans on complaining.

And Logan’s most complicated job? Even less complaints to be figuratively filled, given it was his favorite.

See, for a good while now, Logan had been dating Remy, a figment of the Imagination created by Roman for a one-time vine gag that somehow managed to get enough permanence for themself to function as their own being. For a bit, they had simply wandered about, teasingly flirting with not only the sides but Thomas himself. Something about Logan must have held their attention however, because soon enough he was the only side being ‘bothered’.

It didn’t take long for the feelings of ‘botherment’ to morph into amusement, which furthermore transformed into affection and soon even love. Remy had made a bad attempt at celestial flirting, and despite the inaccuracies, Logan had greatly appreciated the sentiment.

Appreciated it enough to allow “I love you” to escape both his thoughts and mouth, an acknowledgement that had left the two of them in similar states of shock for a whole ten seconds before Remy was in Logan’s lap and doing their damndest to kiss him breathless.

Remy only became more cemented in the inner workings of Thomas’s mind after that, likely a consequence specifically of how much time they were spending in Logan’s room. They were still a figment, but they were rapidly gaining actual responsibilities, things they had to do or else Thomas would directly suffer. Most were connected to sleeping- making sure the sides were rested, bullying Thomas to bed when needed, lining up memories as appropriate to be saved and stored during REM- but some were simply random, the misc assignments settling onto the not-a-side.

Usually, Remy could manage it all without much issue. They would complain heavily, sure, bemoaning the days when they were a free-spirit with nothing to do, almost sounding like Roman when they spoke of the cruelty of fate that such was the price of love, but as long as Logan was there to hum sympathetically and play with their hair, they were good.

Occasionally however… it was too much. Too many late nights and sleepless mornings convincing others to rest, too many memories to pick between and sort, too many tasks all piling up. Remy would get overwhelmed and end up overworked if no one stopped them in time.

Luckily for Remy… they had Logan.

Figuring out that Remy had hit their breaking point wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, the first step of Logan’s ‘job’ therefore being the most difficult. Remy, for all their bellyaching, didn’t want to be perceived as a slacker or irresponsible with their job. With sunglasses, coffee, and their devil-may-care attitude, they could normally fake being alright for a day or two past actually being alright.

But the facade always cracked in the end, and as soon as it did, Logan was there.

So, the second step, taken once Logan recognized those cracks: eat a good and filling breakfast. This step was especially important, and made the list to remind Logan that a coffee and crofters-covered bagel wouldn’t be sufficient.

Next, Logan went about assigning Remy’s usual tasks to the other sides. To Virgil and Patton, enforcing Thomas’s bedtime. To Janus, memory dealings. To Roman and Remus, whichever various misc tasks Remy had at the time. And top it all off with a lecture to the lot of them to sleep well.

(Logan always expected some resistance on this step, and was always surprised to find none. “If you say they need a break, they need a break.” Virgil said one time with a shrug. “We want to help where we can.”)

Then there came the final step: convincing Remy to take a break. To most, this would be the hardest step. Even when all their work was attended to, Remy would insist they had things to do, that they couldn’t just take a break, especially not one as long as Logan would suggest.

Logan wasn’t ‘most’.

Before Logan entered his room (or, more accurately, his and Remy’s room, the figment not having a place outside of the Imagination and therefore opting to move into Logan’s), he double checked that everything was ready.

Breakfast? Eaten.

Time? Well past noon.

Work? Distributed.

Tie? Loosened.

Shirt? Untucked.

“Hotel? Trivago.” (vocabulary cards!)

Logan let himself into his (now shared) room. Remy was sprawled across his (now shared) bed, flipping through their own notecards- the form memories took when viewed within the logical side’s room. Their sunglasses were set aside on Logan’s (now shared) desk, making it easy for Logan to spot the dark bags beneath their eyes.

They glanced up when Logan entered, cocking an eyebrow as they took in his appearance. “You’ve looked better, babe.” Remy commented lightly, though Logan could hear the concern in their voice. “You here to crash? I can move.”

Logan didn’t answer right away, instead walking over to stand in front of Remy. Before his partner could guess what he was doing, Logan had grabbed the memory cards they were sorting, easily willing them away.

Remy’s eyebrow only raised higher. “Alright, yeah, someone needs to take a nap.”

“And that someone would be you.” Logan replied. “Or, more appropriately, someone needs to take several days to rest.”

Remy chuckled. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I wouldn’t think you’d want me falling behind on work, especially for Thomas’s sake.”

“Your work is being handled, Thomas will be fine.” Logan assured, taking a moment to tenderly tuck some of Remy’s hair behind their ear. Remy’s expression softened at the gesture. “I have taken care of everything for you, save one thing.”

“Oh?” Remy prompted, looking vaguely amused by Logan’s approach. “And what’s that one thing, doll?”

With a smile, Logan settled himself in Remy’s lap, arms wrapping lightly around the back of their neck. “Myself.”

Remy’s brow furrowed at the answer, their concern returning full force. “Log-”

“I have not eaten since breakfast,” he neglected to mention it was a large enough breakfast the lack of lunch hadn’t truly affected him, “I am stressed,” he ignored that the stress was Remy-based, “and my appearance is unkempt;” he pretended this was not a very conscious choice, “therefore, I should be resting, and yet, I am not.”

“You do seem tired…” Remy murmured, one of their hands moving to rest steadily on Logan’s hip while the other gently cupped his cheek. Logan appreciated the moment as long as he could, lazily leaning into Remy’s touch while the overworked figment searched his face for more signs of exhaustion.

Then they squinted at him. “Wait. This isn’t some ploy of yours, is it? ‘Cause no offense hun, but this feels a bit too easy. Normally you go running when I try to stop you from working on bad days.”

“I admit I am usually more… difficult about such matters, but I assure you, my love, this is no ploy. That would imply only I benefit from this situation. I think we both would.”

“Oh? How so?”

Logan’s fingers traced random patterns on Remy’s upper back. “You prefer to see me in good health and enjoy taking care of me. I prefer to see you in good health and know that letting you take care of me will subsequently lead to you being taken care of as well.” He kissed Remy’s forehead. “We both benefit, for the sake of not only ourselves, but each other as well.”

Remy sighed, their attempt at annoyance falling rather flat, in Logan’s opinion. “I can tell you’ve planned this out, babe.” Their hand on Logan’s cheek slipped into his hair, lightly scratching at Logan’s scalp.

The logical side involuntarily let out a content hum at the motion, briefly letting his eyes close as he pressed closer against Remy, their hand now supporting more of his head than Logan was. “Mhm, the plan of self-care? I think it’s a good plan.” Logan partially opened his eyes to catch Remy’s gaze. It was fond and sweet, Remy having clearly been swayed by tired Logan. “Do you think it’s a good plan?”

“Yeah.” Remy agreed softly, Logan grinning as he realized he had ‘won’ (really, they had both won, seeing how desperately Remy needed rest, but for the intents and purposes of this particular situation… Logan had won). “It was a great plan, angel.”

Logan allowed his head to be transferred onto Remy’s shoulder, happily nestling it into the crook of their neck. He could feel as Remy shifted their position, clearly going to lay Logan down on the bed. However, the bed alone would not be enough, Logan locking his arms behind Remy’s neck when they tried to let him go.

“Oh, come on, sugar, I can’t- I need both my hands- oh, alright, fine, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll make it work.”

It took a couple minutes longer than it might have if Logan had allowed Remy to let go of him, but soon enough Logan was being deposited in a proper pile of blankets and pillows, all packed in together and arranged in the corner of the bed that lined up against the corner of the wall. He released Remy this time, comfortably sinking into the heap.

“I’m happy you’ve deemed this arrangement of your bed more acceptable than the one you yourself made, sweetheart.” Remy teased even as they worked on tucking the pile closer around him. “I’m going to grab lunch now, alright? Don’t go anywhere.”

It was an unnecessary request, given that Logan’s master plan of self-care wouldn’t benefit from him making Remy hunt him down, but the familiarity of it made Logan snort. The blanket-pillow lump had a one hundred percent success-rate with dissuading Logan from escape, no matter the circumstance, but Remy’s consistency in reminding Logan to stay put was endearing every time.

Remy returned within a few minutes, carrying a plate filled with ham and cheese cubes and some bunches of purple grapes. They placed it on part of the bed not overtaken by the plush pile before carefully climbing over it, cautious to not make a mess as they joined Logan. They slid into place behind him with practiced ease, shifting Logan to be more in their lap and against their chest before tucking the blankets back in around them both.

Logan leaned back against Remy as they settled, resting his head at a tilted angle so that he could keep his eyes on Remy. Noticing this, Remy smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Logan’s forehead.

“Alright babe who hasn’t eaten since breakfast, time to eat.” Remy said, tugging the plate closer to them before picking up one of the cubes and offering it to Logan. He let Remy pop it in his mouth, swallowing it while Remy grabbed another morsel of food. The motions were easy and repetitive, and soon enough nearly half the plate was gone.

Breaking the skin on a grape, Logan caught Remy’s wrist as they went to offer him a ham cube. Remy raised an eyebrow. “Darlin’?”

“You need to eat too.” Logan explained, nudging Remy’s hand towards their own face. “I know how you get when you’re busy.”

“Well now you’re not even being subtle.” Remy teased even as they accepted their redirected ham cube. Alternating between themself and Logan, Remy returned to their work of emptying the plate, quickly finishing off what remained of it.

When there was nothing left on the dish, Remy gracelessly pushed it off the bed, Logan well aware they’d pick it up later but still rolling his eyes at the laziness in the gesture.

“Shh, I can hear you thinking, love.” Remy trailed a few kisses down the side of Logan’s face, their arms wrapping snugly around his waist. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up later. Don’t worry about it.”

“You could take care of it now though.” Logan argued weakly, already once-more melting into Remy’s hold.

Remy chuckled, peppering more kisses across his chin. “Then I’d have to let go of you, my lovely Lo, and I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

“Mmm, fair point.”

“Plus,” Remy went on as they began to slide into a more horizontal position, laying Logan down with them and briefly releasing his waist so as to move his glasses from his face to the bedside table, “it’s naptime. Someone needs their rest.”

“You.”

“Which one of us is taking care of the other again? You’re the tired one.”

Logan laughed quietly at Remy’s rebuttal, rolling over and nuzzling his face into Remy’s neck. He wasn’t sure when the lights in the room had turned off, but he was fairly certain it had been Remy’s doing. “Fine. I am very tired. So tired I have completely forgotten what to do now. Remind me how to sleep.”

“Dramatic-ass.” Remy’s tone was too soft to match their words. They pressed their cheek against Logan’s hair, their breath as they spoke close enough for Logan to feel its warmth. “You’ve just gotta close your eyes and stop thinking about anything that isn’t your wonderful partner and their wonderful fluffy pile of comfort and relaxation.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Logan dropped a kiss on Remy’s collarbone. “I could do this for days and days and-”

“Shhhh, starlight. Rest.” Remy slowly ran a hand up-and-down Logan’s back, successfully distracting him from his poorly-veiled (but loving) jab at Remy. “Bully me later.”

Logan didn’t respond verbally, opting instead to hum in contentment and snuggle up closer to Remy. There was no way they’d be able to slip out of bed without Logan noticing- not that they’d try, not now, but Logan appreciated the assurance of proximity. Despite not truly being tired, Remy’s warmth and Logan’s relief at knowing they would finally be resting themself were enough to make his eyelids heavy, the idea of sleeping peacefully with his partner too tempting to pass up.

So, yes, Logan did have some difficult duties to attend to, the caretaking of Remy the most complicated of them all. But drifting off happily in Remy’s arms, Logan remained firm in his stance that it was his favorite duty.

#losleep #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #fanfiction #fanfic #ts fanfic #sanders sides #nb!remy #i hope y'all like this but 's okay if not bc it is- per the usual- v self indulgent sldjfmvksdl #i think it came out good tho

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alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody · 3 years ago

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Okay so what about david stating to gain alot of weight quickly and everyones kinda worried but he's actually just really happy and comfortable in his relationship + probably finding out hes kinda into it

(And maybe even patrick not knowing so he gets a bit worried too)

Oh I love this!! (As you may know from following me) wg as a sign of recovery/happiness/comfort is one of my favorite tropes of all time so I would love to see this for David!! either gaining weight when he starts getting comfortable with Patrick once they’ve settled the whole barbecue/olive branch debacle, or I could also see like, David waiting until after the wedding bc he has Very Specific Visions of how things should look and also probably has had pieces of that outfit picked out since his old life and where is he going to find a tailor here he can trust to let out the seams without causing irreparable damage? waiting after the wedding and then deciding that he’s not dieting anymore. after the wedding, he can eat whatever he wants, no matter what it is, no matter how much, no matter how often. he gets to eat specifically because he wants to, no more restricting or holding himself back or switching out to a healthier option. and his metabolism is slowing down, his body is settling a little more as he settles down, and so he does gain a lot of weight quickly but he also isn’t worrying about it the way he used to because he feels secure enough to let his body change without fear that his partner is going to reject him for it.

but of course David has a history of worrying about these things and handling them Uh Pretty Badly, so when he starts plumping up, everyone starts swooping in to check on him. Johnny and Moira trying to ask after his mental health in their own awkward, less-than-helpful ways (”so, son ... you know, sometimes ... when someone isn’t talking about something that’s bothering them ... it comes out in, ah, you know ... other ways, like maybe, ah, a lot of cheeseburgers at the cafe -- I mean, at a cafe -- and, you know, it might help that person to, ah, talk about it!” / “DaViD, I do hope your emotional entanglements are not imposing a hamper on your wellBeInG, lest we reprise your cognitive doldrums of two! thousand! and! fiiiive!”), Alexis fussing over him and offering him a little bit of the high-end moisturizer she treats herself to because it’s infused with sweet orange oil and it’s, like, so good at lifting your spirits, David, like, you will feel like a whole new person with just, like, the teeniest smidge, and suggesting little trips and excursions because she thinks something is wrong and wants to perk him up, despite David not actually ... seeming down. but in the past his weight gains have always been accompanied by a lot of shame and guilt and heartbreak and he guesses he sort of quietly did all the unlearning about that and it didn’t occur to anyone else to do so, because they’re all hovering over him and making kind little offers and trying to help him when he does not need it, thank you very much!!

(cue Stevie in the background having a pleasant but more-than-vaguely threatening conversation with Patrick because if she finds out that, say, he hid something else from David, or he’s upsetting David in some way, well, is Patrick aware that there are bodies buried on the motel grounds that no one has ever found? no? interesting ... ! but Patrick’s a little worried too, because he’s heard David talk about his body in the past and his language isn’t always ... the kindest? so he’s sort of treating David with kid gloves, trying not to patronize him but also not to cause some kind of body-image meltdown. he very carefully doesn’t say anything about food or David’s steadily climbing weight or his snug clothes, but he tries to go heavy on the casual touches and affection so David can at least be secure that Patrick is here for him for whatever’s going on.)

finally Alexis says something while she and David are out browsing at some very sad little indie mall, like, seventeen towns over and the way she says it, it could be about his perceived mental anguish or his weight, and he kind of snaps back at her and tells her he’s very happy with his body, and he’s very happy period, thanks so much, squinty unamused smile, and she just looks him up and down and goes, “well, duh, David, it’s not like getting fat is a bad thing, it’s just historically been a bad thing for you,” and tosses her hair and pushes a sweater into his hands before flouncing away like this is fully how she intended this conversation to go. the sweater is a 3x and not completely awful and David doesn’t even own anything in a 3x yet but somehow she intuited that it would fit perfectly? (in the car on the way home he has Sarah McLachlan on and Alexis hasn’t said a word to complain about it yet, which means something is up, and finally she runs her fingers through the ends of her hair and goes, like there was no break in their conversation at all, “okay but like, I think we all just thought it was, like, the birthday clown thing all over again, and you were just going to go radio silent for like six months and we would all be, like, highkey worried about you even if we only seemed lowkey worried about you or, like, not worried about you at all, and then you’d come out, like, four sizes bigger and be super mean to yourself for like another six months before you lost it all, and, like, none of us want to see that happen again, David. not because of the weight. because we care about you and we don’t want you to go through that again.” she sits back hard in her seat and punches the stereo dial. “also because you’re listening to Sarah what’s-her-name with all those sad puppy commercials and, like, that does not suggest a healthy mental state, David, ugh.” David lets that sink in for a few minutes. He smiles to himself. He lets Alexis change the music.

and when he and Patrick finally talk about it, David tells him that he really doesn’t need to worry, maybe gives him the rundown on the behaviors he actually SHOULD worry about if David ever starts exhibiting (which he can fact-check with Alexis, who’s apparently been keeping the score way more than David has given her credit for). he tells Patrick that it actually feels very freeing, letting himself get bigger and not policing what he eats anymore, and he’s never really been in a situation before where he felt secure and safe enough to be comfortable exploring that, and obviously he would love if Patrick wanted to sort of ... get involved, so to speak?? and even if it isn’t Patrick’s kink the way it’s David’s, Patrick is VERY down to love on David’s body and learn to appreciate it in the Extremely Specific ways David wants it appreciated. he can’t imagine a situation where more David would ever be a bad thing, so it’s super, super exciting to learn that not only does David agree, but plans to make sure that there’s going to be a lot more of him going forward now that they’re both on the same page.

(ALSO i’m really into the idea of David having been heavy before, but by circumstance rather than decision, and now taking this opportunity to explore being fat deliberately instead!! I threw some words together about it a while back and I’m gonna put them under a cut bc it does mention unwanted wg from meds and I’m not sure if that’s a trigger for anyone!)

Trim is relative, of course. He’s gained a whopping thirty-eight pounds since moving here a few years ago, and — it’s fine, he’s made his peace with it, he just likes things to be intentional, his body included. He’d mind those thirty-eight pounds much less if he had gained them by indulging himself, by enjoying treats he had chosen specifically for pleasure, rather than by stress-eating in his motel room.

He’s been heavy before — in his early twenties, he’d tried an antidepressant that hollowed out his appetite and added sixty pounds to his frame. He hadn’t stayed on it long, because it made him sick when he drank and he wasn’t in a place to give up drinking then, or even to cut back, but the weight had lingered for a good six months before he'd managed to shave it off with party drugs and an absolutely punishing workout regimen. It’s intentional, he told people when they asked about the weight, because they did ask and it always disarmed them. And although it wasn’t true, he’d let himself think sometimes about the possibility. He kind of liked being heavy. He kind of liked taking up space. He kind of liked jiggling. It made him feel like some sort of prince, indulgent and luxurious, the picture of wealth, and he thought that maybe he could have more-than-liked it, if it had just been something he’d chosen.

#posting this at 2am .... intensely chaotic #stay tuned for more Content later today 👀#david rose #chubby david #schitt's creek #david x patrick

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wings-of-a-storm · 3 years ago

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When Victor says to Rahim that Benji "wasn't too thrilled that I told you about AA", I get so frustrated with him, because of course Benji wasn't happy about it. Victor told a virtual stranger, at least to Benji, about a part of Benji's life he's made clear he hates, is embarrassed by, & doesn't like talking about, & what's worse is Victor acknowledges more than once that he shouldn't have done it, but he still did it. If it wasn't for that, I don't think Benji would've suggested a break.

I've been thinking about this particular situation a lot, to be honest. I was nervous to put my feelings down on paper until now though because I wanted to try and be as fair as I could to human error. But…it’s kind of inescapable that Victor was in the wrong, so being ‘fair’ will have its limitations…

Okay, here are my serious feelings about all of this, so like, brace yourself.

LOOKING AT VICTOR’S POV -- THE GOOD AND THE BAD

The thing that sucks about this whole situation is that Victor telling Rahim about Benji’s drinking problem/mental health came from a good place. He was really worried about Benji -- the type of worry that takes over your every thought and you can’t shake it off no matter what you do. Victor has a huge heart. He was struggling with that worry and in a weak moment, in a room that gave the illusion of privacy, like a dark and secluded tunnel deep underground, he needed to express those feelings.

Another factor was that Victor's emotions were out of control because they had just been compounded by the shock of hearing Mia was leaving. That’s now two big shocks to process in a limited time. And as far as the Mia news goes, Victor would have wanted his boyfriend there to process it with him and comfort him. Like Victor has said in the past, he and Benji tell each other everything. And like Benji has recently said, Victor needs to talk things through a lot with Benji to unpack and process. Victor needed his boyfriend on his own emotional level but he didn’t know where he was and if he was doing okay and it was a lot to feel.

So on a human level, I do understand why Victor let slip a very personal secret at a time of overwhelming distress. I really want to make that clear.

HOWEVER, I also am very disappointed that Victor did that because there are ways to unload emotion without setting loose confidential information. Benji missing from school and un-contactable after a big fight is an incredibly valid cause for concern in its own right. For further context, Victor could have added some vagueness like ‘I’m really worried because Benji’s struggled a lot with stress in the past and I don’t know if he’s doing okay’. Something like that allows the catharsis of expressing the depth of your worry without compromising your partner’s privacy.

I’d like to think your partner deserves more consideration than just blurting out his dirty laundry, especially when it is something that clearly stresses the hell out of him if he couldn’t even disclose it with his own boyfriend and that he has specifically verbalised is something he is very embarrassed about. It was a clear line drawn that Victor stepped over.

And to me, it kind of reflects that Victor doesn’t respect Benji’s feelings as much as he thinks he does because if Victor had really taken Benji’s feelings into consideration, it wouldn’t have happened. There would be enough of a voice in his head saying ‘be careful what you say, you don’t want to betray your boyfriend’s deep embarrassment to anyone’ because you’d understand where your boyfriend was coming from and want to protect him from further pain.

WHAT FRUSTRATES ME MORE THAN ANYTHING:

So at first I was glad Victor acknowledged to Rahim that he shouldn’t have told him about Benji’s alcoholism. It felt a bit like vindication for Benji, like Victor did now understand the hard way not to dismiss Benji’s feelings and need for privacy.

Well, that was until the next sentence that came out of his mouth! “But it’s not just that [behind out break], we’ve been fighting about everything lately.” That reallllllly went beyond frustrating for me because it pretty much contradicted what Victor just said. I was like: Okay, so you don’t actually understand the gravity of the error you made! Because like you, anon, it was pretty obvious to me that the breach in trust was exactly why Benji had enforced a break.

Yes, they had been fighting a lot, and yes Benji expressed he was concerned by that, but he was also holding close the good memories like the soft-serve day and was feeling things while looking at the sweet candid photo that had been taken of them at school. It was only the reveal of the breach of trust that had Benji up on his feet and truly distressed.

And the thing is Victor had already absolved Rahim of any guilt for being the proxy recipient of Benji’s secret, so what Victor said about the breach of trust not being the main reason for the break was something he really did feel. In Victor’s head, their past fights must have deserved equal condemnation (the cultural differences tension, undermining the coming out to Adrian, etc), which lessens Victor’s role/responsibility for Benji needing a break. And yes, those fights were factors in the current state of their relationship but the deal-breaker was the breach in trust, not Benji’s patience eroded over time after the cruel treatment and constant invalidation from Victor’s mother.

Were the writers trying to balance things out with the undermining of Adrian’s Finding Out versus Victor’s alcoholism slip? Since neither were deliberate/malicious slip-ups and both occurred after losing control of emotions? Because the thing for me is that those two situations are not proportionate in impact -- Adrian finding out that Victor and Benji were dating affects Victor indirectly (Victor wanted Adrian to know anyway, which Benji knew; the slip just affects his mother’s plan and rate of processing things), while the alcoholism slip to Rahim affects Benji directly:

A) It’s a real threat to Benji if his alcoholism becomes public knowledge in the rumour-saturated environment (ie. Creek Secrets) of their high school. Your image/identity is so fragile at school and crucial to your self-esteem and mental health. Benji has worked incredibly hard to make sure even his accident was kept secret. His personal mental health would take a massive hit if any of those secrets got out. It would be ruinous. It could even be life-threatening.

B) It was a significant breach of trust from his significant other. His struggle with alcohol was something so personal and held so tightly to his chest that he couldn’t even handle his boyfriend knowing about it. And it only took like a day for his boyfriend to pass that information on to a peer at school. How can you be in a relationship with someone who couldn’t even respect your feelings enough to hold onto your secret for more than a day? How could you tell them anything after that?

So yeh, if the writers were wanting things to look balanced so the ‘break’ appeared more mutual and complicated to lessen Victor’s culpability with the upcoming wedding kiss, I didn’t really vibe to it…

Well, it looks like my frustration matches yours, anon! We feel what we feel, I guess. :)

#LV ask #Love Victor #LV S2 analysis #Venji

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meichenxi · 3 years ago

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Obsession, ‘productivity’ and habits vs routines: starting learning in a healthier way

cw: perfectionism, obsessiveness, allusion to eating disorders, depression, anxiety (very non-explicit) I’m going to be writing a series of posts from some asks I’ve had waiting for me, on how to build a cohesive language learning routine, but I wanted to preface that first with something we talk about less than we should in the language learning community: obsessiveness, perfectionism, recovery from mental health, and how to approach language learning in a better way. If the personal stuff bores you, feel free to skip the first two paragraphs.

I have been trying to ‘be more productive’ - in healthy ways, and unhealthy ways - since I was about ten. If you don’t fit in, for whatever reason, hobbies - and especially creative or ‘productive’ ones - are a wonderful escape. They make you feel that it’s ok not to have friends; they let you look down on all those other stupid children with all the misplaced arrogance of every single bored, clever pre-teen. When I was twelve, I realised there was no point eating with people that didn’t like me and went to the library instead, because that was ‘dead time’. When I was fourteen, I realised getting the bus was ‘dead time’, and started doing Anki for two hours a day. When I was sixteen, I realised walking was ‘dead time’, and started either listening to podcasts or talking out loud. By the time I was eighteen, I was doing four A-levels in school, an EPQ, teaching myself an extra Latin GCSE, and taught myself the Spanish A-level in 3 months right before the exam. I also worked out for two hours a day - because eating lunch was ‘dead time’, and sleeping was ‘dead time’ - trained martial arts four evenings a week, tutored twice a week, had a part-time job as a waitress, played the flute in a prestigious orchestra, and was 150,000 words deep in the first draft of a very gay, Norse-mythology inspired fantasy novel.

I had it all under control. My marks were excellent; I was a well-rounded person, musical and sporty and already decently on the way to becoming a polyglot, I was training to be a teacher, and I had plans to publish my novel. My home life was painful, but I was painfully independent with what I now like to call the ‘Elsa complex’. Or, actually, like Zuko: I could look after myself, by myself. It was all under control.

I guess everyone can see where this is going. School ended, and with it came endless, open days. I fell apart.

With endless surprise, I can now say that, four years later, I think I’ve come through the worst of it. I still have tendencies to get obsessive, but my anxiety and perfectionism are a lot better, I don’t dissociate, and I have - gasp! shock! - actual interest in life again. I never wrote that novel, but I’m still gay and still love Norse mythology, so I’m slowly finding my way towards writing again. What people don’t tell you about getting better, though, is that trying to define yourself, trying to find yourself, as a person who exists without mental illness, is very, very hard. Many of the things that you used to identify as core components of your personality or important values may have changed, and you may be hesitant about trying to take up hobbies that you used to enjoy because you recognise - and rightly so - that the incessant drive to be doing something, all the time, didn’t necessarily come from anywhere healthy. That those things which you clung to and which protected you may actually have ended up harming you in the end. A lot of figuring out old patterns of unhelpful thoughts involves realising that the things that you defended or framed as helping - weren’t. That’s a hard thought, especially because those mechanisms developed to try and protect you, one that’s immeasurably sad.

Seperating your reasons for doing something obsessively and your love of it in the first place, before it became unhealthy, is difficult. And it means that when you feel - finally, finally - ready to start tackling something like language learning again, you end up sorting of approaching it sideways, shiftily, as if you’re hoping to trick yourself into it. It’s a delicate thing, like a baby bird, and it’s dangerous too, because if you do everything which you did before - the only thing you know how to do - it’s not going to work. And every time it fails is personal, because being able to do it again represents getting better, and reclaiming parts of your identity mental illness stole, and it hurts.

I’m writing this post because somebody asked me about my approach to creating a successful language learning routine. And I do have a lot of thoughts - but I wanted to preface that post with this one, to say:

If you are reading this to be more productive, if it is becoming obsessive, if you want to fit the most possible language learning into the tightest schedule possible, STOP. Take care of yourself. These tips for ‘productivity’ are for people who want to learn a little bit more about organising their time, and are in the right space to add more learning to their life. If you are only defined by what many hours you get done a day, if that’s what motivates you, these tips are not for you. Look after yourself.

And on that note, here’s a confession: I don’t have - have never had - a successful language learning routine. Because of what happened, the only way I can keep going and prevent myself from falling into bad habits is if I approach it sideways, if I pretend I’m not taking it seriously, because I know if I don’t things will go wrong. But I want to be honest and upfront because I know a lot of people read my posts for advice and say that this doesn’t work for me. It might not work for you either. I especially know there are a lot of conceptions of successful langblrs with 7, 8, 9 etc languages in the title - that that we spend 5 hours a day on Anki, fall asleep to Glossika, and so on. And it’s especially important to mention now, because I feel like my language learning habits have only started being healthy in the last year or so - essentially since I started actually enjoying Chinese media. I could teach you how to cram every spare second with language learning, or how to successfully pass an A-level in 3 months with no teachers. I was good (and arrogant, and cocky, and needed bringing down a peg or two). But I won’t.

What I do have are succesful language learning habits. Apart from being a generally more flexible appraoch for all learners, the advantage of building successful habits over a fixed routine is that it allows for learning according to different in energy levels, how busy you are, what you find difficult and what else is going on in your life. Most crucially for me is that it is always a much healthier approach, because what I do is not based on number of hours, or number of units a week, or anything quantifiable that allows me to get obsessive again or frustrated that I’m not doing enough.

Routine is important, especially when it comes to routinising daily tasks. The only thing I have is that sometimes - on good weeks, and once or twice even shockingly on good months - I have a decent Anki streak going. That’s it. I don’t listen every day - I don’t read every day - I certainly don’t do grammar every day. There’s nothing specific I do every day, though I usually rack up a good few hours of immersion or study - to be honest, I fail at Anki probably at least 60% of the time. Everything else - all these tips I have written about - I do as and when. Framing it in such vague terms makes it sound like I must have an extraordinary amount of motivation to keep going, that maybe I’m just lucky to be interested etc, but that’s really not the case. What I have done to keep learning regularly and somewhat successfully (I hope!!) without limiting myself to a routine which I know I will starting obsessing over is tying specific language learning behaviour to certain moods or levels of concentration.

All routine is just habit. Habit, with a ribbon and packaged nicely. But allowing yourself to adapt your learning to the circumstances gives you more flexibility than any strict routine, and is more sustainable in the long term. What building habits rather than a specific routine does is allow you to learn what works best when, what works when you’re tired, and what is best to do when you have energy, or when you want to watch a show, or talk to people. It puts you at the centre of your language learning, rather than framing language learning as a central part of you.

So how can we build healthy habits? How can we utilise ‘dead time’ whilst keeping it light, and fun? How can we adapt our language learning for times when we are tired, and stressed? Or what about when we don’t have time to give 100% of our attention or concentration? How can we identify our own strengths, our own weaknesses, and unite these with our personal goals to figure out what to prioritise in active studying, and what to do when we don’t have the energy for that?

I’ll give my thoughts on all of these over the next couple of weeks, in what I hope will be a comprehensive overview of how best to practice, addressing everything from how to practice speaking to how to start as a complete beginner. If you have any thoughts or interim questions, or if you’d like to add your own experience to anything I have said, please feel free to!

In the mean time -

chenxi out.

#chinese #learning chinese #langblr #depression #anxiety #perfectionism #obsessiveness #mental health #recovery #I actually wrote the next post about building habits first #but it didn't feel right because personally I don't reeeeeeally have a successful routine #and giving advice about that - though I do have a lot of ideas - without acknowledging that seems hypocritical at best and unhelpful at wors #I'm lucky enough at the moment that chinese is my **special interest**#so I just sort of...do it without organising it and without much external motivation #but then again my way of learning is also a complete mess #I just look up words in things I'm reading and add them to Anki and learn them SOMETIMES #there's no structure #I really admire people who can sit down with a textbook and do a certain number of things per week #THAT is how you're going to proceed #I write so much about what I'm going to do and my plans and never ever do them #could it BE that I have adhd? who would have guessed #so many promises and I never do them AHHHHHH #anyway #actuallyadhd #excuse the personal Dramatic Backstory as ever but I feel it's important to give my own perspective and humanise the blog a bit #don't do what I do folks lmao

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luna-tiel · 4 years ago

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What Entrapdak Means to Me

On the eve of Entrapdak Positivity Month, I thought it was as good a time as any to share my rambling thoughts on a ship that’s affected me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

Entrapdak is the first ship I have ever been invested in. It’s such a new experience for me that it’s taken me the last few months to wrap my head around the whole thing. I may relate to the characters in a show, but when they form romantic attachments I view it with a degree of passive distance. I don’t understand what it’s like to have those sorts of feelings for someone (I am aromantic and ace as a brick), and, well, I’m honestly not curious enough to give the subject a thorough study. My mind tends to fixate on other things.

What does this have to do with Entrapdak, you ask? Long story short for people who don’t want to read my meandering essay -- I relate a lot to these characters, and the way they bonded together struck a deep chord in me that I can’t ignore.

Let’s start with the characters. I knew going in that Entrapta was neurodivergent-coded, but I took it with a grain of salt. When I actually watched the show, however, I found myself relating to her so deeply it shocked me. Never have I felt such a kinship with a fictional character! We don’t share every trait, but it was still like seeing my brain put to life on screen. I related to her enthusiasm over her special interests, her struggles to fit in, her desire to make friends who accept and understand her for who she is.

The fact Entrapta is completely herself is something I love about her. Over the years of growing up undiagnosed, I developed a lot of masking strategies. Human psychology is one of my special interests, and even with all that accumulated knowledge, masking isn’t easy. It’s extremely mentally taxing. Masking can certainly look easy -- I can, when I have the drive and energy, “pass” as neurotypical, and only people who know me extremely well can tell I’m dying inside. All that effort is taken for granted by a lot of NTs because that’s how people are “supposed to” act, and surely I can “do the bare minimum.” The accumulated stress of near constant masking has led me to the darkest moments I’ve had in my life.

Entrapta’s struggle with leaving Beast Island hit me hard. It threw me back to a time when my feelings of isolation and worthlessness got so bad that I lost the energy to do anything, even the creative pursuits that were the obsession of my life. I retreated so deeply into my inner world that I hardly interacted with anyone. That total apathy shocked my family into getting me professional help, which gave me my autism diagnosis, the coping skills to move forward, and a good start on the road to self-acceptance. It also opened a channel between my family and I, allowing me to feel heard and understood. (An important side note on mental health: if you or someone you love needs professional help, please seek it! Sometimes you have to try out several therapists -- it took me three to find a good fit -- but you are worth it!)

It took me longer to realize, but I also relate to Hordak in some ways. Mercifully I was not raised in an extremist cult environment. However, I know what it’s like to feel defective next to a sibling that seems perfect. I was constantly being compared to my younger brother, and in all areas but art, he was superior. He was smart, athletic, and above all, he fit in with everyone. I didn’t hate him for this -- I hated myself. Trying to measure up to his standard is what caused me to develop such strong masking strategies. Underneath it all, I felt the despair of knowing my peers would reject me as soon as the mask cracked. I also live with chronic joint pain, starting at around age seven. The jury is still out on what’s causing that (the worst of it was due to a previously unknown food allergy, but the pain still comes and goes, even though it’s a lot more manageable than it used to be). This cocktail of pain, stress, and sensory issues I had to deal with gave me a very short fuse at times.

As an aside, just because I sympathize with Hordak does not mean I am excusing his actions. He is still going to have to face the consequences of his choices, and work to adjust to life post-Prime. The series end gave him a new beginning, the opportunity to be redeemed, and I prefer this to a rushed redemption arc.

What I love most about Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship is how they accept each other as they are. Hordak gives Entrapta near free reign of his sanctum, he listens to her when she talks, and he respects her opinions. Even when he pushes her away, he still considers the logic of what she tells him, and sometimes ends up doing things her way despite his initial instincts. This is something I do in my own life; I am easily overwhelmed by new information, so my initial response to an idea/activity is almost always a firm (and sometimes rude) “no,” until I have time to properly process and think about it. Hordak is the first person in Entrapta’s life that truly listens to her. He still has things he needs to work on, but it’s a lot better than how most of the princesses are with Entrapta. The Alliance treats her as someone to be managed -- she is useful, but unreliable. Hordak, in contrast, trusts her to get things done in her own way.

On the other side, Entrapta is the first person in Hordak’s life to accept him without judgment. Hordak spends so much of his energy putting up a front of strength and intimidation, and Entrapta cuts right through that. She’s not frightened by his appearance, and even his outbursts have little effect on her until the two of them start to bond. Entrapta doesn’t come into their interactions with any preconceived ideas of what Hordak is like, or more importantly, what he should be like. This lack of expectation leaves her completely open to accepting whatever Hordak does and says, and it also relieves Hordak of the burden of needing to put on a front around her. When Entrapta sees him at his most vulnerable, she reaches out to him with compassion, something he has never felt before. Entrapta also does this in a way that doesn’t belittle Hordak. His imperfections are not something to pity, they are a valuable part of who he is.

I loved watching their friendship develop. Entrapta and Hordak’s shared time together evolved slowly into a bond that gave each of them a sense of belonging they had never experienced before with anyone else. It gave me the hope that, despite what an oddball mess I am, perhaps I could find someone who understands me too.

When a romance subplot inserts itself into a story, I tend to gloss over and ignore it (if I pick up on it at all). I’m even less interested in sex. Way back when I was first getting into fandom I was so excited to go online and meet fellow fans of the books and shows I liked, only to discover the spaces being dominated by arguments over character pairings. I was baffled. This is what people are most interested in? Oh well… back to the hermit cave I go!

I was late to the party with SPoP. I’d watched a few episodes, but the show didn’t really hook me. This was partially because all I ever heard people talk about online was Catradora, and if that was the main appeal of the show, I wasn’t sure I would enjoy it (sorry Catradora shippers, romance is not going to entice me to watch a show, even if it’s rep). Quarantine was the ultimate cause for me embracing my curiosity and diving headfirst into SPoP, binging the entire thing a few months before the release of season 5.

I vaguely knew about Entrapdak as a ship going into the show, and I admit, had I not been primed for it, I probably would have missed the romantic potential entirely. In no way did I expect to become invested. I was immediately intrigued by their dynamic, and as they got closer, I found myself thinking “oh, I see why people ship these two.” I didn’t understand this realization until months later. I was relating to the characters, and for the first time in my life, I was relating to their relationship.

I headcanon Entrapta and Hordak as an asexual couple. I’ll elaborate on this at a later time (asexuality is a spectrum with a lot of nuance, and this post is plenty long already), but at the core of it, I find joy in imagining these characters in a loving platonic relationship, something I hope to find myself one day. I hope this love comes across in my artwork and in my fanfictions <3

To those of you that read this far, wow, you must be patient! Have an imaginary cookie! I hope this ramble has provided a decent picture for why I, as an aro ace on the autism spectrum, have come to cherish Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship. It’s my first and only OTP… I’m still in shock thinking about that… I guess we’ll see where things go from here!

Take care of yourselves out there!

#entrapdak #entrapta/hordak #entrapta #hordak #autistic entrapta #autistic experiences #relatable characters #fandom ramblings #spop #spop headcanons #asexual headcanon

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drxwsyni · 5 years ago

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Petrified (pt.3)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: is this what they call a slow burn?? i promise the intense yandere stuff goes down soon...-ish. i’d like to have a new part out every week or so, give or take a few days. we’ll see how it goes, but for now enjoy the new chapter!!!

ALSO WE REACHED 200 FOLLOWERS LAST NIGHT THANKS Y’ALL, YOU’RE AMAZING

(5.8k words)

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

If there was ever a time in your life when you felt like you could finally take some well needed rest, it was now.

It wasn’t like you had a choice though, your nurse making it very clear that you weren’t cleared for discharge yet. Therefore another long bout of unconsciousness was the only option you had whilst in the dreary hospital room, and waking from it felt much more pleasant than you anticipated.

Your sleep schedule appeared to be unaffected by the recent events, something you were grateful for. It had you up on this fine Sunday morning at precisely 8:12 am, according to the time on your phone. Unfortunately, you neglected to bring a charger with you to work on Friday. So when your abandoned belongings were retrieved from that dreaded alleyway, you were still left with relatively nothing to keep you occupied. The phone was running on a steadily declining 14% battery life, leaving its use to be minimized to an expensive clock.

With nothing to pass the time in that regard, you simply observed the world coming to life outside your window. It left you the chance to go over the past 48 hours in peace, and you specifically regarded the strange development from last night.

It wasn’t something you hadn’t already been over multiple times in your head, but you still couldn’t manage to wrap your mind around the motivation that was fuelling Shouta and Hizashi to propose such a request. Concern over your health did explain some of it, but the extent of the actions caused by this concern was not at all equal to the reasoning.

Regardless, you’d already accepted to fulfill their strange request, so there wasn’t much that overthinking the situation would do to benefit you at this point.

_____

Breakfast came at around 8:30 am, effectively pulling you out of your wandering thoughts. It was simple enough: eggs, sausage, toast, a side of bland oatmeal and a tall glass of water.

The nurse left you to your own devices after that, telling you that for now it was a matter of continuing the same treatment before any more judgments could be made.

This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t growing increasingly bored by the minute due to the lack of distractions. So when the sound of a certain voice hero’s conversation could be heard on the other side of your door not long after breakfast, it served as a great relief to the mind numbing atmosphere.

Not a moment later and you heard the familiar rapping on the wooden frame, before the blond pushed it open and entered.

“How’s my sunshine doin’ this morning? Ya feelin’ any better?” Hizashi was dressed in casual clothing with his hair down. In addition, he appeared to be holding some sort of shopping bag in his right hand.

You watched as he made his way towards the right side of your bed, responding to his worries. “Well, the rest definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed. My head still hurts but they’re giving me some pretty powerful meds for that thankfully.”

You figured he would sit down in the armchair, but instead he opted for settling on the edge of your bed again. “Ya sure you got enough shut eye? I can come back if ya need to snooze a lil’ longer.”

His open compassion for your health was comforting, albeit a little insistent, but it made for a relaxing atmosphere for now.

“I don’t think I could sleep anymore no matter how hard I tried, thanks for the concern though.” You gave a warm smile, sensing that he was almost stressed over your wellbeing, unnecessarily much in your opinion.

The blond brought the bag up to rest on your lap, and vaguely you could make out the contents for a brief second.

“Well, Shou’ and I figured you didn’t have all that much to live off of since being admitted, so I went and grabbed ya some essentials on the way here.” He gestured to the bag, to which you hesitantly reached for.

He continued, “I wasn’t quite sure what my favorite listener needed, so I just bought a lil’ bit of everything.”

You peered into the opening, seeing quite the assortment of toiletries. Picking up the packet of cleansing facial wipes, something you desperately needed, you continued to peruse through the items. Smaller things like high quality travel sized tissue packets and floral scented lotions were settled aimlessly at the bottom.

One thing that did catch your eye was a small stuffed black cat, wearing a white frilly dress. You took the plushie out of the bag for further inspection, also singling it out for just being cute.

“Shou’ picked that out. Sent him some photos from the gift shop downstairs since he’s not a mornin’ person. Thought it’d keep you company until ya get outta here.” You looked up at Hizashi, seeing him smiling warmly at the thought of something so wholesome, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“It’s adorable, thanks…” For a moment you sat in the feeling of being cared for so well, something that you didn’t have much time to receive given your lifestyle. However, that sentiment was quickly overshadowed by the circumstances you were in, particularly with this man.

Once again, your body became riddled with grief over the fact that they’d spent not only their time, but now their money on you. Not that you didn’t understand that Hizashi was genuinely concerned for you―nobody could miss that. It’s just there was no reason for it as far as you were concerned.

The two had done more than enough as it is, and the overkill only made you feel worse. “...I just―I can’t help but feel bad that you spent so much on me. I’ll pay you back completely, it’s the least I could do for how much you and Shouta have invested in me so far.”

That’s what you said, and you meant it completely. But you knew that the voice hero wouldn’t stand for it, so you could only hold onto a string of hope that he’d at least let you compensate for half of the valuables.

He almost let out an amused laugh at your worry for the state of his finances. “Look, I know ya mean well, baby. But this stuff costed no more than pocket change. After all, can’t have you bein’ neglected in this place after going through all that trouble to get ya here.”

“Can I at least pay back half, just for some peace of mind.” He was more stubborn than you initially thought, just another trait of his you were growing used to.

“Not gonna happen, sunshine! But there is one thing ya can do…”

The blond pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, unlocking it swiftly. He handed it to you, the screen appearing to show a page for new contact information. “Go on and type in those digits of yours. We’re gonna need a way to contact you if some new info pops up about the case from Friday night.”

You glanced at his awaiting expression before silently agreeing, typing in your phone number.

“Also, we gotta work out when that dinner night is happening. Can’t have you runnin’ off on us before then.”

He was right, the only way they were letting you make up for their generosity was oddly by letting them provide you more of the manner. It was your only option, so you settled with the new belongings and finished typing in your contact information.

As if to make sure you didn’t give him the wrong number, Hizashi sent you a quick text of a sun emoticon. You took the opportunity to save his information to your phone.

Just as you did, the screen turned black and wouldn’t come back to life no matter how many times you pressed the power button.

“Outta juice?”

Your eyes darted to Hizashi, who moved to rummage through the bag. He pulled out an object you somehow managed to completely miss: a phone charger.

He began unwrapping the cord from its casing, getting off the bed to find an outlet.

“The police ended up havin’ to go through your bag to file everything as evidence. Shou’ was there when it happened, told me to grab a charger cause you were missing one before I left this morning.”

Just another expensive item you wouldn’t be able to compensate for. It’s like he wants you to feel bad for being so helpless.

“Thanks…I’d be pretty screwed without you I guess.” You didn’t want to keep going on about the regrettable feeling that was all too persisting, seeming as it didn’t matter much anymore.

He handed you the end of the now plugged in charger, letting you hook your phone up to it. “No worries, actually I―”

The same nurse as last night had interrupted his train of thought, making her presence known before entering.

“Good morning Yamada sir, checking up on my patient I see?” She didn’t let him respond, “Well, I hate to break it to you but I’m going to have to steal her for a while.”

He regarded the nurse with a smile. “‘Course, I’ll talk to you later, songbird.”

The blond gestured some finger guns in your direction as he spoke, walking out of your room.

Regardless of the circumstances, you thought, at least I have someone coming to see me. That’s what I get for throwing myself into work and not making friends I guess.

You let the nurse close the door all the way, silently awaiting the slew of information about to be sent your way.

_____

It would seem at this point the only stimulation outside of examinations was in the form of boring phone games, and your newly acquired, and insistent, hero companions.

One of which was currently posted in the armchair, waiting for you to finish eating dinner before you told him about the exciting day you had. Shouta, reserved as ever, kept on his phone until then.

You finished up as soon as possible, the silence eating away at your psyche due to its growing awkwardness.

“How was your day?” Simple, the only thing you could think of asking, great for breaking the silence.

The erasure hero looked up from the screen immediately. “Good, actually. Still haven’t heard anything from the station.”

Remembering that fateful night wasn’t something you particularly wanted to do, but for now it had to be dealt with. “I doubt much will come of it, not exactly like what was going down wasn’t obvious, so no need for an investigation, right?.”

“Probably...any changes with yourself?”

You knew well enough that like his partner, Shouta seemed genuinely interested in your health. The difference was that his way of conveying this was much more...intimidating.

The look he gave you demanded a response, even if the question was harmless enough.

“Ah―not really I guess. I’m here until tomorrow morning for sure, but that’s about all they’ve said.” You wouldn’t know if he was pleased with the response if you didn’t catch the slight nod he gave.

“Well, it’s not a bad thing. You could certainly use the rest.”

Now that’s something you could agree to, but you’d still rather do so in the comfort of your own bedroom.

“Listen, as much as I want to keep you company, my students are expecting graded essays back tomorrow morning. I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer.”

While you did appreciate his presence as a change of routine for a short while, it was only to an extent. You’d be lying if you said the atmosphere didn’t feel heavy while he was around, even if just a little in times like these.

“That’s no problem, I’d hate to keep you from your work.”

He slowly stood up from the armchair, “Hizashi will probably visit tomorrow morning. He’s got the day off so he’ll likely stick around as much as possible. Just tell him to leave if he’s annoying you.”

You watched as his eyes drifted to the stuffed cat resting on the bedside table next to the bouquet, the sight influencing a tired smile.

“You should try and get to sleep early―oh, one more thing.”

Like his partner had done earlier today, he reached for his phone, handing the unlocked device to you. Having done so already, something he was also aware of, you silently typed in your information.

“Don’t be afraid to send one of us a message if you need anything.”

You returned the phone to him, “Right, thanks for stopping by Shouta.”

As he exited the room, you were left with feelings of confliction over the whole ordeal. It was strange―having someone being concerned about your wellbeing was nice, but something, you couldn’t quite place what, was getting in the way of your gratitude.

The two men were clearly busy people. Hero work, on top of being teachers, would more than suffice as something to occupy most of their time. When it comes to dealing with victims, you’d assume that for the sake of efficiency a hero would just drop you off at the nearest hospital and then be on their way.

And yet, for reasons still incomprehensible, the presence of the strange duo was something you couldn’t shake off. Perhaps it wasn’t intentional, but the reality left a peculiar underlying feeling of...suspicion?

It was too soon to say, and frankly it’d be rude to judge them after they’d been so kind to you. However you’d always been someone who falls on the more overstrung side, and neglecting the situation by simply ignoring it was not something you could do.

_____

It was just as his partner had foretold―the next morning you had once again been graced with the presence of Hizashi.

You noted how he was awfully chipper for being up at 8:20 am on a Monday, but like the couple other odd traits of his, you chose to disregard it.

Especially since this person also came bearing quite the appetizing breakfast.

“The nurse said ya didn’t have to eat the hospital food if someone brought you a meal instead. Thought you’d appreciate somethin’ homemade so I whipped it up before leaving.” This time he was seated in the armchair, likely because there wasn’t enough room on the bed with the table that was positioned over it so you could eat.

The meal consisted of―somehow still warm―scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, fruit, and a side of blueberry pancakes. All in all, it was delicious, and you didn’t quite think it was something he could just ‘whip up,’ but you’d let that slide. You thanked him profusely for it before regarding just how little you’d been informed of things since coming to the hospital.

“I didn’t even know that was allowed to be honest. They don’t tell me much aside from whether or not my condition has changed.” You tried to talk in between bites, not wanting to let the warmth dissipate by waiting to have a full conversation.

“Funny you say that cause she also told me you’d be cleared to leave by the end of the day. Looks like the hit you took wasn’t too serious.”

Well, you would’ve appreciated being the first to receive this news. Isn’t there like a doctor-patient confidentiality thing to keep others from knowing stuff like that?

Regardless, it was still good news. The hospital room was starting to drive you a bit crazy.

“That’s good to hear, thanks for letting me know.” You quietly continued your meal while Hizashi went on about similar things―cases that were like yours, his opinions of the hospital staff.

If there was anything he was good at it was filling the silence, and you supposed this was where his relationship with Shouta came in handy. Not that his partner didn’t seem to mind talking, it was just he wasn’t the most energetic when he did so, whether he knew that or not.

In general, the two of you quickly realized that there wasn’t much to discuss, given how you’d been holed up in the tiny room for the last few days―it didn’t really allow for the most exciting news.

He asked you about a few work details of your own occupation―how long you’d worked there, if you liked your coworkers―menial stuff mostly. By then you had long finished breakfast, and it would seem that the blond had no intention of leaving, much like his partner warned you of.

So, you listened patiently while he went on about this and that. Sometimes trailing off into hero stories, other times bringing up his work as a teacher.

In general, you had no problem listening to him go on. You’d speak up here and there, but not for long as he’d quickly resume with whatever topic he’d fixated on for the moment.

One would think it’d be annoying, and perhaps this was just a result of some form of exposure therapy that made it bearable, but it was enjoyable hearing him ramble.

Yet, good things only last for so long.

It’s not that you eventually found the endless discussion boring, rather the developing behaviour was due to you still recovering―even just in the slightest―from recent events. You didn’t even notice it, but gradually your eyes were becoming heavy, and the sound of Hizashi’s voice was becoming more and more distant.

Embarrassingly, he was the first to pick up on it.

He was mid sentence when he caught you nodding off. Rather than being offended, the blond actually found it endearing.

Instead of alerting you just yet that he’d taken notice of your behaviour, Hizashi silently stood up out of the chair, walking over to the windows of your room.

Your half-lidded eyes just barely picked up on the movement, vaguely seeing him pull the blinds closed before coming back to your senses.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to―you weren’t boring me I promise. I just-”

“Relax, songbird. It’s my fault, ya must still be a lil’ done in, no worries.”

Naturally, you felt terrible. He was acting like he didn’t care, anyone would be offended at this point.

It was excruciatingly awkward, and you desperately tried to collect your thoughts. “No, no it really was interesting, you can keep going if―”

“Stop it, sunshine.” He started towards your bed, which you instinctively shrunk into. You always defaulted this way, panicking immediately in the face of little to no danger. But Hizashi wasn’t dangerous, you told yourself. He continued, “I should’ve known you weren’t better yet. Still not sure how but you really managed to wear yourself out, didn’t ya?”

He pushed you back down into bed by your shoulders while he spoke, continuing to pull up the blankets you discarded earlier.

“I’m gonna head out so you can get some more shut eye, yeah?”

“Um...o-okay. Yeah, I guess…” You inwardly cringed at how small your voice sounded, but to be fair it wasn’t like you could exactly help it.

It was confusing, how he acted so indifferent to the unspoken insult that you gave him by nearly falling asleep. Was he acting?

Hizashi moved away, heading towards the door, leaving you somewhat comfortably tucked into the hospital bed.

“Get some rest, ‘kay sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, thanks.”

You heard the door click shut as he left, the room falling into silence amidst the now dim lighting.

Okay...what the fuck.

Devoid of any distractions in your proximity, the hard thumping in your chest was more than clear. At times like these you didn’t even realize any growing anxiety―not until the ordeal was over and you were left with the aftereffects.

The attention to it was only drawn more when you processed the increased rate of beeping coming from your heart monitor.

The last thing you wanted to do was bother the poor nurse taking care of you. Steeling yourself, you took deep breaths, focusing your attention on calming down. It worked soon enough, leaving no need for medical intervention.

You noted that getting like this always drained you of energy―mentally and physically. Heeding Hizashi’s orders, it was easiest now to try and sleep off the anxiety.

You can think about whatever just happened later, maybe when your not still hospitalized.

_____

You were stirred awake by a gentle hand on your shoulder, lightly shaking your resting form. Eyes fluttering open, you observed the dedicated nurse you’ve seen time and time again leaning slightly over you.

“Miss (l/n), I have an update on your condition.”

That was more than enough to give you motivation to pull yourself from the jaws of sleep. You sat up slowly, although it was your best attempt at doing so quickly.

The nurse continued, “Well, it’s good news. You’ve been cleared for discharge. Your condition has improved considerably, so you can continue the rest of your recovery at home safely.”

You needed to hear no more, immediately looking around to find your bag that had been delivered to you from Friday night. Still, you figured that this deserved a response.

“That’s really great to hear, thank you for taking care of me...also, where are the clothes that I came here in?”

“Oh yes, they’re in your bag.” You watched as she reached underneath your bed―no wonder you couldn’t find the damn thing.

The nurse settled the bag next to you before continuing. “Here you go, miss. I’ve prescribed some pain medication for your head injury. Directions for consumption are on the label...and I believe that’s it.”

You rifled through the bag, retrieving your clothing from the bottom.

“Oh, one last thing actually. Now, this is only a recommendation, but given your health it would be beneficial if you were to remain home for the rest of the week. You can go to work if you’d wish, but it may slow your remaining recovery process.”

“I’ll have to think about that one, but thank you for letting me know.”

She turned off the heart monitor before removing the clip on your finger. The IV had been removed yesterday, so there was no need for attention in that department.

“Perfect, you can get dressed and gather your belongings. Please speak to the receptionist at the end of the hall―right before the elevator―so you can pick up the prescription before you leave.”

“Sounds good.” You offered a warm smile to her, and she politely excused herself from the room.

You got changed, clothing appearing to have been washed at some point while you were asleep. Somehow you managed to pile all the things Hizashi brought you the morning before into your backpack, and you threw the shopping bag into the garbage.

It was nice to finally stretch your legs for longer than a few minutes to use the washroom, although your muscles did feel somewhat weaker now.

Slipping on your jacket and bag, you exited the room, closing the door behind you. The receptionist’s desk had been exactly where the nurse said it would be, and you handed over your information to the man behind the counter. He left for a moment before returning with a paper, your prescription printed on it with an illegible doctor’s signature. You thanked the man before heading to the elevator and stepping in.

Nothing was more enticing at this point than returning to the comfort of your own home. The thought of your bed waiting for you was enough to have you drooling, being so done with the unfamiliar setting of the hospital.

The elevator chimed, signalling it had reached its destination of the ground floor. The doors slid open and you stepped out, heading straight for the front entrance.

At least you were, until you collided into some poor unsuspecting human standing in your path.

How many times are you going to embarrass yourself before the day is up?

The person had caught you by the shoulders, stabling the both of you. You were quietly trying to apologize while, painfully so, you lifted your head to assess the damage.

You weren’t sure to be thankful or not, but you were met with a familiar gaze.

“You really shouldn't keep your head down like that all the time. Are you okay?”

Shouta looked down at you with a stern yet concerned look. He didn’t exactly back away, rather he continued his hold on your shoulders as if you were going to fall over any second. Hizashi also stood close by his side, and therefore close to you.

The sudden proximity had your head spinning, blood quickly rushing to your face.

“Ah―yeah. I’m fine.” Your response was pitifully sputtered out, and gently you moved back, out of his grasp.

“You headin’ out? Shou’ and I were just comin’ to check up on ya.”

The blond regarded his partner, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll drive you home, have you eaten yet?” The erasure hero didn’t seem to be asking permission over the matter, but you still forced yourself to give them your take on it.

“You don’t have to do that, I was just about to call a cab. And I have stuff at home for dinner, so I honestly can’t impose on you two anymore.”

“Aw, but we're already here sunshine. It’s no problem, c’mon.” The blond flashed a warm smile before moving to place a hand just beneath the nape of your neck, guiding you to the front entrance alongside his partner.

You were beginning to grow frustrated with the way the two acted, disregarding your wishes so casually. Sure, they weren’t doing anything inherently wrong―just helping a poor civilian get home―but that wasn’t what irked you.

They were too insistent, and it was making you uncomfortable. Clearly they either didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care.

Heroes or not, you couldn’t just let them do whatever they want.

But...would they be offended if you got mad? They’re just trying to help, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like you would have to deal with it much longer, surely you could put up with a bit more of their pushiness.

...Just endure it a little more, you’ve already done enough damage anyways.

It was growing dark out, the sun having just set over the horizon. The crisp air hit you hard as the automatic doors slid open, being equally refreshing and shocking to your system.

An involuntary shiver wracked your body, and you felt Hizashi’s hand slip to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to him.

It made your stomach churn ever so slightly, but you pushed the feeling down.

Shouta walked in front of you two, presumably leading you to their car in the parking lot. Approaching it, you weren’t surprised to see the expensive looking exterior, and were even less surprised to find an equally luxurious interior as the erasure hero opened the backseat door for you.

You offered a quiet ‘thanks’, removing your backpack and slipping in. The door shut with a heavy thud, and you waited for the two men to enter the vehicle while putting on your seatbelt. It smelled of pine inside, likely due to an air freshener somewhere that you couldn’t see.

They stepped inside, immediately turning on the heat. Shouta was given the responsibility of driving tonight.

“We can grab you something to eat on the way home, I know a couple good joints around your area.” Hizashi seemed quite invested on the topic of good food, but you had to turn him down at least once today.

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve actually got a frozen dinner that I made last week that I was gonna heat up.” You felt the car start to move, grateful to be getting home faster than you would’ve by cab.

For the first time in a while, the blond actually acknowledged and accepted your opinion. “Alright then. Hey, did the nurse lady have anything new to say ‘bout the whole passing out thing?”

“Surprisingly not, guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

Yeah, because they didn’t know why you were so tired, or how getting the crap scared out of you was the final driving force that night.

“That’s good to hear. I take it you’ll be staying home for the rest of the week to rest?”

Once again, you noted the tone in Shouta’s voice that was a little off-putting. He was asking a question, one that you had the freedom to answer however you see fit. But the lowness, sounding like a warning rather than a simple inquiry about your future actions was all too present.

It made you nervous.

“Well...I’m definitely going to take Tuesday and Wednesday off. But I’m already feeling good so I won’t bother to cancel for the rest of the week after that.”

You could only anticipate the disagreement in silence. And disagree they did.

“I’m not too sure that’s a good idea, sunshine. You went through a lot, its best ya hold off for a while.” You could hear the passionate concern in Hizashi’s voice, but it did little to deter you.

You briefly glanced outside, thankful that your apartment wasn’t too far from the hospital. “Maybe, but the end of the week is always really busy, and I usually handle evening shifts anyways. It wouldn't really be fair on my coworkers to bail for that long.”

Without skipping a beat, Shouta replied. “It’s not fair on yourself to put unnecessary strain on your body.”

Well, he’s not wrong, but that’s not the point.

“I can handle it just fine, besides it’s still a few da―”

“‘Zashi told me you fell asleep while he was there today. That doesn’t sound like handling it to me.”

Confrontation had never been your strong suit, even less so when it was directed at you. His words made you want to disappear into thin air, or have the backseat swallow you whole―anything would do at this point. You felt the shame from earlier today resurfacing, despite the internal fight you put up to contain it.

You were a little over halfway home.

“I was just a bit tired. Nothing a nap c-couldn’t solve.”

This time the blonde spoke up. “We’re just thinking ‘bout what’s best for you right now. And with the way things have been...maybe working so soon ain’t the greatest idea.”

The atmosphere was weighing down on you, thick with tension likely only you could feel. “The nurse said that it was okay to work if I wanted, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Is that all she said?” Your eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, Shouta’s hard gaze meeting yours for a moment before you shied away.

God, this man is relentless.

You could lie, it might make this easier. But something told you that they would know if you did. They were pro heroes after all―didn’t they train to detect stuff like that?

“She said working might slow the recovery process, but I think two more days is more than enough time to get better.”

The two men exchanged looks mixed with annoyance and doubt, which you would’ve seen if you hadn’t had your head down, incessantly picking at your nails to distract from the bubbling anxiety you felt.

“Songbird, if the nurse said to stay home then you should listen to her. Going back to work ain’t gonna do ya any good.”

What could you say to prevent this from getting worse?

“She recommended staying home, I don’t have to listen to her.”

“Even though you should?” There was that tone again.

There was a silence in the car that felt like it lasted for an eternity. Clearly both of them were thinking the same thing, Shouta was just more insistent over it, much more insistent.

“What I should do is take responsibility as an employee. I’ll be okay by the time I have to go back.” Somehow you managed a response, despite feeling yourself physically shrinking back into the seat with every passing second.

Judging the surroundings, you were about one minute away from your apartment. One minute away from freedom.

You heard the blond sigh, “We know you wanna work, just promise you’ll think about staying home this week, give us some peace of mind?”

If that’s what will get them to stop hounding you over the matter, then whatever.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

The car pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. You would’ve jumped out at full speed and ran into the building to escape the tension at this point. But that would be rude, and you didn’t want to look like a lunatic. And even if you didn’t care about that, the car doors were locked.

“We better not have to bring your unconscious body to the hospital again, especially if it happens because you thought going back to work was a good idea. If you think we’re worried about you now...well, this would be nothing compared to what would happen if you pass out again. Understand?” Shouta glared at you in the rearview mirror as he spoke, creating more than a lasting impression of his warnings.

You swallowed dryly, “Of course, thanks for the ride.”

Another moment of silence, then the click of the car doors unlocking sounded.

You opened the door, grabbing your bag while stepping out, trying not to trip over yourself in the rushed panic you were in.

Rounding the vehicle, you started towards the entrance to the complex.

“We’ll catch ya later, sweetheart!” Hizashi’s voice boomed after you, having the car window rolled down.

Out of courtesy, you turned back around, giving a small wave and a smile before stepping through the doors.

In a haze, you shuffled back to your apartment, pulling the keys out of your jacket pocket. You locked the door as soon as you stepped inside, chucking your bag on the floor in the entryway.

You didn’t even bother to heat up dinner, knowing the nauseating feeling in your stomach wouldn’t allow for sustenance at this time. Instead you showered, taking the time to massage your scalp in an attempt to relax.

Sliding into your pyjamas, you found that eating still wasn’t an option, but drinking likely was.

Not alcohol, but herbal tea―it always seemed to do the trick.

The exhaustion set in quickly after you’d gotten only halfway through the cup, so you retreated to the comfort of your bed. You knew the feeling was a mixture of coming down from a stress induced high, the tea, and your still recovering system.

It served as plenty of foundation to knock you out the second your head hit the pillow. This time, you welcomed the inevitable unconsciousness with open arms.

End of Part 3

_____

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#yandere erasermic #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere eraserhead #yandere eraserhead x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere present mic x reader #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere hizashi yamada x reader

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trilliastra · 5 years ago

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the adventures of detective wei wuxian and his husband

[Established relationship. POV outsider for the most part.]

Jiang Cheng will never get used to seeing Lan Wangji in distress. Instead of his usual stoic expression, the man looks almost in pain himself, holding Wei Wuxian's hand tightly.

“He's an idiot.” Jiang Cheng comments, trying to hide his own worry. “He ran into the building like he's the fucking Superman.” And he saved a kid, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Lan Wangji barely looks up, already used to Jiang Cheng's own way of coping with Wei Wuxian's dangerous lifestyle. They've had many fights before as Lan Wangji often misunderstood brotherly banter with insulting.

Jiang Cheng doesn't know exactly what happened, but one day they met for dinner and Lan Wangji stopped glaring at him every time he nagged at Wei Wuxian, so he guesses they are fine now. Well, as fine as they can ever be.

“Hmn.” The other man assents, he brushes a hand over Wei Wuxian's cheek softly. “I'll lock him in the basement.” He says.

Jiang Cheng lets out a snort, surprised at Lan Wangji's attempt at a joke. “He'd find a way out.”

“Hmn.” They share a look of understanding. This is who Wei Wuxian is: impulsive, selfless, good.

“He's gonna be fine.” Jiang Cheng whispers, reaching out to take Wei Wuxian's other hand.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji takes a deep breath, rests his head against Wei Wuxian's chest. Jiang Cheng pretends not to see the tears. “He will.”

–

Yang Hao rolls his eyes as Wei Wuxian laughs loudly. It should take more than just a quick brain and guts to become a detective.

It's ten past two, he hasn't slept in two days and his stomach is starting to hurt. Things would move much faster if only Wei Wuxian could get to the fucking point.

“And that's how we found they run an underground casino.” He keeps rambling, all exaggerated gestures and a lot of confidence. Yang Hao sighs – some people are so damn lucky to just stumble upon the right person at the right time.

To his left Li Qin is sighing dreamily, as Wei Wuxian keeps talking about how he is this close to solving the case if only he could have another day or two. He will get those days, Yang Hao is sure, because their boss loves him.

Thirty minutes later – or maybe two hours, he lost track of time by the time Wei Wuxian started on his brilliant plan to catch their guy – they are finally free to eat their lunch and Yang Hao all but runs away from the conference room before Wei Wuxian can catch up with him. The guy is adamant they must become friends, Yang Hao has no idea how Wei Wuxian hasn't noticed that he'd rather strangle himself before that happens.

He almost made it to his desk before his name is being called by that annoyingly happy voice. “Yang Hao!” He tries not to groan. “I forgot my lunch, do you want to go to granny’s restaurant at the corner together?” Wei Wuxian smiles, placing his hand on Yang Hao's shoulder.

“I have a date.” He lies, desperate to get the fuck away from him.

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian's smile falters for a moment, but he's soon back to his cheerful self. “That's great, man!” He pulls his hand back before shaking it in front of Yang Hao's face, the wedding ring shining in the light. “I wish I could say the same.” Wei Wuxian sighs, almost sad.

Yang Hao turns around to hide his grimace. Wei Wuxian talks, a lot, it's no secret that he's married, and happily so. It's sickening how much he talks about his partner. Yang Hao has never met her in person, but he imagines a saint of a woman to put up with all – that.

Or maybe she's just as bad as him. Yang Hao shudders.

“That's too bad.” He answers when he realizes Wei Wuxian is waiting for him to say something. “Next time, then?” He asks, just to be polite.

Wei Wuxian's smile grows and he is about to reply when Li Qin call his name. “Senior Wei! There's someone here to see you.” She gestures at a man dressed in a suit, long hair tied up. He's vaguely familiar and Yang Hao frowns, hoping this isn't related to their case. He can't put up with Wei Wuxian for another hour, especially without food.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls, surprised. He all but runs towards the man and when they are close enough he leans in and – kisses him. What.

“You forgot your lunch.” He can hear the other man say, holding Wei Wuxian's waist. “We are going out.” He states and Wei Wuxian all but melts against him.

Yang Hao blinks, trying to process all the information. So Wei Wuxian's partner isn't a woman. And he is a Lan. As in the Lan Clan. As in Lan Wangji, the cold, intimidating, lawyer.

“Oh, Lan Zhan.” He looks up, still confused, as Wei Wuxian praises his husband. “You're too good to me.” His voice is so saccharine, Yang Hao wants to jump off the window, but Lan Wangji only smiles, albeit shyly, and takes Wei Wuxian's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Aren't they the cutest?” Li Qin asks, happily.

Yang Hao groans and vows to apply for a transfer as soon as he can.

–

“I'll call you later, mom.” Mei Xiang stops just outside the building, puts her phone back in her purse and reaches out for the compact mirror. She checks her lipstick again and takes a deep, nervous breath. I can do it, she tells herself.

She's been preparing for this since before she got into university. She is smart, qualified, and bold, just the perfect combination for a great lawyer. She can do it.

The Lan Clan is a legend and being employed at Cloud Recesses is a dream come true. She doesn't have an office and for now she's just another assistant, but Mei Xiang knows it's just a matter of time. She's ready to work her way up. Sleepless nights? She got that covered in university. Food? Cereal bars and dried fruits are her best friends.

Mei Xiang introduces herself to her colleagues with a smile and proceeds to get acquainted with her small desk in the corner of the large room. They are all working on some big case already and her direct supervisor says they will assign her a task as soon as Lan Xichen arrives.

Her desk is close to Lan Wangji's office, she notices. The open door allows her to watch him working, scribbling furiously as he checks one book or the other, occasionally he looks up to discuss something with Luo Qingyang, one of the senior lawyers. Mei Xiang sighs, that is one handsome man.

She can see the shining ring on his left hand and shakes her head. She participated in many lectures given by either Lan Wangji or his brother, and she's always admired the way he carried himself, his unwavering belief on doing what's right.

Mei Xiang smiles sweetly when he looks up and notices her watching him. She isn't one to defend adultery, but she knows how these things work for the traditional families – marriage of convenience is still common and she doubts Lan Wangji would ever go against his family on this matter.

Mei Xiang runs a hand through her hair, watching Lan Wangji look through his books. Her parents met through work, love can happen anytime, anywhere. If it happens it happens, she thinks, delighted, when he looks up again.

“Hello, Senior Wei.” Mei Xiang hears Luo Qingyang say as she leaves Lan Wangji's office. A man dressed in casual jeans and combat boots reaches out for her hand with a smile.

“Mianmian, you look absolutely dashing. How is your baby?” He asks, enthusiastic.

Mei Xiang frowns. She doesn't recognize him, and she thought she knew everyone who worked at Cloud Recesses – she made a very thorough research.

She watches as Luo Qingyang shows him something on her phone, probably a picture of her baby, and the man coos, always smiling, as he grabs his own phone and hands it to her.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji calls, coming out of his office.

“Lan Zhan!” The man practically yells, which makes Mei Xiang startle, no one in the room looks up and she wonders if this is such an usual occurrence that they just don’t care anymore. “I was showing her that video of Sizhui playing with the rabbits!” He turns to Luo Qingyang. “Isn't he the cutest?”

“Yes,” she laughs, “after my little Mianmian.” She adds, making the other man laugh.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji stresses, holding out his hand.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” The man laughs, waving goodbye at Luo Qingyang and taking Lan Wangji's hand as they walk together into the office. “I missed you, too.” She hears him say, leaning in to kiss Lan Wangji passionately before the doors are even fully closed.

“Damn,” she whispers, impressed.

Half an hour later, Lan Wangji's husband comes out of his office looking properly debauched, with the biggest smile she's ever seen. That doesn't look like a marriage out of convenience, so definitely, nothing is going to happen. Oh well, she thinks before straightening up her back and getting ready to conquer the world, his loss.

–

After thirty years, she still loves the Monday morning rush. Since her daughter took over the kitchen, she started to love it even more.

Mei Hui loves talking to them and listening to their stories, serving good food that makes them forget about their problems for a few minutes. Over the years, she's had many regular customers, and one of her favorites is Wei Wuxian.

He's a whirlwind, loud and dangerous, but smart and genuinely kind. She's granny to him and her heart fills with joy every time he walks through the door.

He loves her lotus root soup – she long stopped taking offense when he says his sister's is better, she understands the power of love that makes any food taste like heaven – especially when a case has gone wrong. Mei Hui has spent many nights by his side as he eats the soup and cries.

Pork ribs are reserved for the amazing days – his words, not hers. Almost eight years ago, he ordered it for the first time, his grin so wide it took her breath away. It was also the first time she heard Lan Wangji's name.

Oh, those boys. She likes to think her late husband used to look at her like Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

She was invited to their wedding but couldn't make it due to an appendicitis – her health isn't what it used to be fifteen years ago – but Wei Wuxian showed her the pictures the next week, patting her back gently as she sniffed, deeply touched by his consideration.

But her favorite customer of all has to be the little boy. Lan Sizhui, Lan Yuan, oh, how she adores him. Mei Hui looks at the flowers and smiles as she reads the card again. It’s impossible not to love him.

Happy birthday, granny, it says, and she has to sit down to try and contain her glee. “Dad helped me write it.” Lan Sizhui had explained, earlier this morning, as he hugged her leg. Wei Wuxian was laughing, holding Lan Wangji's hand as they waited for their son. She asked if the boy wasn't going to be late for school and Wei Wuxian laughed, amused, as Lan Wangji frowned for a moment, but answered that it was fine, it was for a good cause. Oh, those boys.

Mei Hui loves Monday mornings, even more when she gets to see her favorite boys smiling, and so – so happy. As they should be.

–

He is bleeding. Fuck, Lan Wangji is bleeding.

Su She watches Lan Xichen hold his suit jacket over his brother's wound and tries not to panic. This wasn't part of the plan, that – Xue Yang wasn't even supposed to have a gun! And that good-for-nothing just left in the middle of the chaos without looking back.

Xue Yang was supposed to take the papers while Su She distracted Lan Wangji, no one would get hurt, much less shot. Not that Lan Wangji didn't deserve it, the arrogant bastard, but Su She doesn't want to go to jail when he's this close to getting rich. Lan Wangji better live to watch Su She ruin everything that he owns.

“Wangji.” He hears Lan Xichen yell, shaking his brother to keep him awake. He hears someone saying help is coming and someone else says they called Lan Wangji’s husband.

Su She almost rolls his eyes as the other employees start running around like headless chickens, crying and praying for Lan Wangji's recover. Half of them hate the man just as much as Su She and the other half just want him to live so they can continue to make googly eyes at him. Pathetic.

“Lan Zhan!”

Great, this time Su She does roll his eyes as Wei Wuxian yells desperately, kneeling in front of his husband and taking his hand.

“Lan Zhan, please don't leave me.” He cries.

They are so ridiculous, flaunting their superior love story in front of everyone's faces. Every time they are around each other, it's like watching a fucking drama – nothing is ever going to be more staged than this. Well, he thinks, perhaps Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's wedding, but Su She couldn't care less about them.

“Never –” Lan Wangji coughs just as the paramedics arrive. It takes Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng – and when did that other fucker get here – to separate Wei Wuxian from his husband.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian's screams get more and more desperate and Su She decides it's time to leave. Any more of this disgusting shit and he's going to throw up.

–

He should've known Xue Yang was going to open his giant mouth eventually. The guy has always been a coward.

“ – you have the right to remain silent,” Wei Wuxian recites as two police officers drag Su She towards the car.

“He should've died.” He says, looking into the other man's eyes. When Wei Wuxian attacks him Su She only laughs.

–

+ 1

“It's snowing!” They get woken up by Lan Yuan jumping on their bed, laughing and screaming in delight. Lan Wangji smiles as he hears Wei Wuxian groan and burrow himself further under the covers. “Dad! Papa!”

“Yes.” Lan Wangji answers, sitting up and pulling Lan Yuan onto his lap. “Have you brushed your teeth?”

“Yes!” He quickly answers, eyes shining with glee. “And I dressed myself, see?” He opens his arms and kicks his legs in the air. He's wearing mismatched socks, Lan Wangji notices, smiling.

“So you did.” He praises, running a hand through the boy's hair. “We can play in the snow after breakfast.”

“Noooo.” Wei Wuxian whines. He got home late last night, again. “It's Saturday, we should stay in bed all day.”

Lan Yuan ignores him, turning to Lan Wangji again. “Can we make cookies too?”

“Sure.” He answers easily, dropping Lan Yuan on Wei Wuxian's back. His husband groans and their son laughs when he gets pulled into a hug.

“And hot chocolate?” Lan Yuan asks.

“One or the other.” Lan Wangji replies, heading to the bathroom.

“Cookies!” He hears his son reply in between laughter.

“Chocolate chip!” Wei Wuxian laughs with him.

By the time he comes out of the bathroom both Wei Wuxian and Lan Yuan are asleep again, holding each other and snoring softly. Lan Wangji shakes his head, amused, and walks back to the bed. He throws an arm over them and smiles, they can stay in bed longer, it's Saturday after all.

#the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian x lan wangji #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #my fic

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried.

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now.

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung.

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police.

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact.

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions.

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back.

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either.

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?”

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing.

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?”

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.”

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure.

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly.

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos.

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.”

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan.

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone.

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?”

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly.

“Well, do you know where she is?”

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.”

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers.

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.”

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!”

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.”

A victim?

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.”

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he?

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest.

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up.

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days.

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?”

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge.

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.”

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.”

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do.

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand.

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace.

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home.

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life?

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went.

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well.

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands.

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.”

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.”

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.”

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it.

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you.

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you.

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees.

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.”

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole.

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.”

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much.

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.”

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them.

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.”

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.”

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.”

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.”

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.”

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.”

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out.

“So does your Jungkook do film too?”

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.”

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—”

“God this is so weird.”

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?”

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.”

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?”

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.”

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.”

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch.

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt.

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly.

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely.

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.”

“Done and done.”

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast.

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.”

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.”

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you.

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection.

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures.

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Will you… fall in love with me again?”

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer.

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.”

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.”

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.”

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time.

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face.

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile.

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.”

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.”

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1.

When you wake up, it’s loud.

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals.

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months.

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand.

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!”

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice.

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!”

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that.

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning.

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.”

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!”

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion.

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?”

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.”

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook.

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed.

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip.

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.”

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you.

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you.

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #goldenclosetnet #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff

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closer-stars · 4 years ago

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Gut Feeling (4)

Member: San Genre: Angst???? Just a lot of discomfort and tension tbh Word Count: 12k (what the actual--) Requested: Yes Content: Like what I said, lots of discomfort in this. Anyways yay tension. Food mention bec people need to eat. Idol life is messy as heck. :flashes a peace sign through the stress: Also roughly around last few weeks of inception going thanxx promotions lmao Note: One month later, Part 4 is here. Apologies for the late delivery, my mental health really took a dive with everything happening lately. Things are kind of looking up but not entirely. Also this idea really marinated in my head that’s why it’s so long... So much you could do with this prompt tbh. TY to @hwaberrykiwi @yeocult @yeochikin and @barsformars for dealing with out of the blue messages regarding this fic when I was writing-- disregarding the weeks long silence from me.... hahah ily i’ll link the previous parts after a day just so this could appear in the tags lol

Part 3

The past few days have been quiet. Nothing came up between the two of you since that night. Nothing came up but things have quieted down. You can only suppose that it’s because of how exhausting it has been. At least that’s what you think when you try to rationalize it to the strained schedules getting to him now. That’s the only way you’ve been able to keep yourself together in front of everyone, by rationalizing everything that feels off with exhaustion.

It works to a degree. The makeup covers up the lack of sleep beneath their eyes but it can’t add to the needed sparkle in their eyes. That’s where the ring lights come in. Everything physical can be fixed with makeup and lighting, that’s what the industry does. But emotional? That’s another thing altogether.

Things were technically smooth sailing despite the chaos. You still go home late, just not for the usual reasons. You still go home late when the members stay late in the studio but that isn’t often at this point. They’re still human, they need rest. On the other hand, Hongjoong still goes to the studio though not to the point where Seonghwa has to pester him to go home. You bring Hongjoong home often now. During this leg of promotions, it’s Yoon who brings them to the first half of their schedules, Bae brings them to the second half-- it’s not easy waking up at 4am just to bring eight boys to their schedules. You’re in charge when it comes to the late night schedules. At least this way, you don’t have to talk to them since they’re too worn from the day’s activities.

Hongjoong sits on the passenger seat next to you, busy eating the dinner you had bought for him. The ride home is quiet, just him munching on his much needed meal and the ice cubes in your respective drinks.

“Manager-nim?” He speaks up carefully.

You hum in response, still not tearing your eyes away from the road.

“Has San been okay?”

That catches you off guard for a moment. “As far as I know, yes? Did something happen?” Something that didn’t revolve around _that_.

He sips on his coffee for a moment, mulling over your words. “He’s just been in his head more often nowadays, I thought he might have talked to you about what’s on his mind.” He reasons softly against the lid of his cup. Now he’s not the type to force his members to talk to him about their issues, they do have a day where they gather and talk about concerns from the past week and the upcoming week. Despite that, there are some worries that can’t wait for the weekly session.

You hum in thought. That’s not good. “He hasn’t told me anything.” You return. How can he? He’s often at the farthest end of the car, slumped over catching up on rest. “Is there something I need to be aware of, Hongjoong?”

Your words cause him to laugh thoughtfully. “You’d think because I’m the leader, I’d know what’s on their minds…” He starts. “I don’t know what’s on his mind, much less know what could have happened. If he does tell you something that I might need to know...” He trails off, but you understand where he’s trying to get.

“I know.” You return gently. You had your doubts that he’d talk about it, especially to you. “Don’t push yourself too hard on it regardless. Though, I do think he talks to Seonghwa or Wooyoung about these kinds of stuff doesn’t he?”

“That’s true.” You can tell that the air in the car has eased a little and with that the rest of the drive has turned quiet.

Upon arriving home, Hongjoong slides off his seat, rearranging his things. Considering the two of you lived in the same building, it was still the two of you on the way up. Perhaps San learned this habit from his hyungs?

Now that you think of it, you wonder how San has been. You know how tired he is when there’s no cameras around but still he gives so much for the team.

“Manager-nim?” He says carefully while the two of you wait for the elevator to bring you to your designated floors. You respond with a soft hum. “If the boys start to act up, please tell me. I know you’re the manager but sometimes they get too much to handle, I can keep them in line too.” His words cause the corner of your lips to quirk upwards, touched by his worry.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong. I can still handle you boys.” You tease lightly as you shake off his concern lightly. When the elevator alerts the two of you that you had arrived at his floor, that’s when he realizes that you didn’t press your floor number.

“Hey--!” It’s moments like this that remind you that they’re the youngest in their families. At his complaint, you shoo him off.

“Come on, Hongjoong. You need your rest more than I do.” You wave him off, chuckling at his shocked expression. Maybe being someone who works behind the scenes had its perks even outside the work environment. He pouts at you, unable to argue and he bids you good night, thanking you for the safe trip.

--------

He arrives at the dorm, which was mostly peaceful save for the frantic clicking of the mouse and keyboard tapping. At least there wasn’t much yelling but he didn’t need to peek into their rooms to know that the guys were playing an intense League match. When he gets to his room, he’s greeted by Seonghwa doing his usual home training. At least he had a shirt on this time.

“I thought today was your rest day.” He said as he hangs his bag on the corner of his bed.

The other, still in the middle of a plank, manages to rasp out. “Habits. Hold on.”

Hongjoong lets him finish his set as he changes into something more fitting for sleep. From the way his hair sticks to his skin, Hongjoong could only guess that this was probably his last set for the night. “Go shower first stinky. We can talk after.”

Seonghwa looks at his roommate in a mix of fake insult and annoyance. “Say that to me after you do your laundry.”

He looks at his laundry that seems to agree with Seonghwa. He carries the basket to their washing machine. “Now go stinky.” He repeats much to the other’s dismay, already loading it into the machine.

After Seonghwa has done his usual lengthy shower-- seriously what does he even do? The two fill the other on how the past few hours went. Particularly, the talks with San and you.

Seonghwa starts it as he dries his hair with his towel. “San didn’t really say much. He was pretty vague about it, something about feelings and something about wanting a re-do.” It’s usually like that at the start for San, he noticed. Always at a loss for words until he lets himself be alone. Regardless, if there’s something he and Hongjoong have, it’s the sixth sense when it comes to the members.

The leader hums in response. It was a bit of an expected move from the younger one to keep to himself, he does see a little of himself in that kid. He wasn’t that successful in his conversation with you either. “Yeah, they didn’t really say anything with me either.” He does recount to the best of his memory the entire conversation.

The two of them sit in silence, both concerned over how this could affect the group. Seonghwa then sits up, eyes shining with alarm. “I think he confessed to them.”

Hongjoong stares at him, dumbfounded by how he reached that conclusion until he remembers how the members often tease him when you’re not around-- he didn’t really join in on it. How he seems to show off a little more whenever you’re around. It’s to the point he even waits for you after you park the car, none of them even do that. He buries his face in his hands, he knows how San takes rejection so harshly. It’s one of the reasons that propelled that boy to dance like his life depended on it. “And I’m guessing, they didn’t accept the confession.”

The words make the oldest wince. “Choi San….” Seonghwa groans, dropping his body onto his bed. The two of them realize that there’s a situation on hand and they’re not really sure if the other boys know. Some of them could, some of them might not. “We should probably ask Yunho or Wooyoung if he has said anything in the near future.”

Hongjoong nods at the suggestion, suddenly too exhausted to say anything else. “Let’s just get some sleep for now. We still have one more leg of Inception promotions this coming week.”

Seonghwa switches the lights off, knowing full well that once Hongjoong’s in bed, there’s no getting him out of it unless it’s the next day. “Sleep well stinky.”

“Whatever.”

-------- The Inception promotions end without a hitch… well as smoothly as it can. Considering that there’s now a quiet lull in between the promotions, the boys have been using the time to clean the choreography and eat. It’s not ATEEZ if there’s no food. You only entered the studio towards the end of their practice, slipping quietly to sit next to their stylist and Manager Bae as they fixed the last changes for their performances. The rest of the members are walking around the studio, breathing heavily after what was probably their nth run of their next promotions.

“You’re bringing them home?” You ask him as the stylists show you the plans for their clothes. You’ve seen some of these fits during the photoshoots and music video shoots but some of these were a first. You were sure the boys would look good in these. You take note of the changes, taking a few photos of the sets to transfer to your laptop.

He hums in affirmation, too busy keeping note of the changes they discussed while you were gone. You notice San’s the only one on the floor, everyone else already packing up their things.

“Are you going to stay late tonight?” You ask him, as he’s still on the floor, too exhausted to pull himself up.

“Probably not, I promised Yunho I’d play a few matches of League with him.” Silence falls on the two of you, either one unsure of how to continue the conversation, much less on how to end it. Why did you expect him to stay? For more, why did that make you feel a little heavy?

“Ah.” It was the only thing you could think of at that moment.

Your reply causes a pit in his stomach to sink. Without thinking, he returns the question for the sake of conversation, even though there was no point in it. He doesn’t know why he still wants to talk to you, knowing that talking to you only puts more strain to him. “Are you?”

At his question, you nod. A flash of confusion on your eyes that are immediately pushed aside for the sake of professionalism. “Yeah, I have to assist in the deals with the externals team. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You don’t give him another word, opting to end the conversation with a polite bow before making your way to the office. It wasn’t the whole truth, nor was it a whole lie. Regardless, you tear your eyes away from him.

Silence trails behind you and keeps San company for the next few moments. He winces to himself, not liking how things are going between the two of you. He pulls himself up when Yunho calls for him.

On the way out, you’re greeted by Seonghwa’s figure waiting for the rest of the boys. “Oh, hello Seonghwa.” You say out of surprise. “Not grabbing something to drink from 7/11?”

His eyebrows raise, not expecting someone to greet him at this time of the night. “Manager-nim!” He greets you with a tired smile. “Are you going home soon?” He asks, standing a little straighter this time. “And, I think we have enough drinks at home…” he mumbles though it doesn’t sound that convincing to you.

His question makes you smile a bit, but you shake your head at his question. “Unfortunately no. I have to do additional work to do with the externals.”

His eyes widen at your words. “Did we get more offers?”

His words make you mull over your thoughts. You know of one offer that’s already confirmed but you doubt they’ve been informed. “Let’s just say, you’re really staying true to the whole Back to Zero hint you’ve pulled during your Crescent Party.” You say with a chuckle.

He doesn’t get enough time to understand the hint you give him-- a taste of their own medicine towards ATINYs when they ask for hints. Wooyoung’s already calling him annoying nicknames to get him moving and you chuckle at the pained expression on his features. “Go home, Seonghwa. Don’t want Wooyoung to annoy you more. You’ll know this once the deals are finalized.” You bid him goodbye, sparing the boys a wave before retreating to your office.

--------

It’s already the middle of the second leg of promotions and you’re already at your last leg of energy. You probably need around two to three days to recover properly, at this rate. For now, you try to continue forward, the finish line is oh so near. You slip into the studio, not surprised to see the lights still on, but surprised to still hear ATEEZ at this hour. It’s a familiar sight in front of you: eight tired boys on the floor or slumped against the wall. Those with enough energy throw any apprehension out the window and change their tops in the studio.

“Are you staying late in the studio tonight?” You ask San as you check the time. The boys are already getting ready to head home, San on the other hand hasn’t moved an inch. He’s in his thoughts as he stares at his bag. Your question, though, brings him out of his head and he picks up himself up. It was a question out of habit, months of having done it over and over, it was still a challenge to curb such actions.

“Yeah. I need to clean my levels.” It only made sense that you’d bring home since you practically live under the same roof. Were you expecting him to say otherwise? Slightly. He doesn’t look at you but he makes his way to the computer again.

“San! You’re still staying?!” Yunho exclaims, he’s the last out the door to which San acts as if it was a normal thing.

He laughs at the shock on his member’s face. “Relax, I didn’t like my levels in the last run so I’m doing it again. Go ahead though, Manager-nim’s bringing me home.”

“Heyy, we all know that means you’re spending another three hours.” The taller returns with a whine.

You watch the two banter, a small hint of amusement quirking at your lips but you immediately squash that. You tip your head to quietly bring the attention back to what’s at hand. “Just tell me when you’re done, San. I’ll be at the office.” Without missing a beat, you excuse yourself out of the studio. Two pairs of eyes following your retreating figure until you disappear from their sight.

Once you leave, Yunho looks back at the male with a raised brow. “San.”

The other makes a disgruntled sound at the tone of his voice. He knows what that means but he just can’t get himself to talk to you still. The taller male leaves him be and his shoulders fall once he’s left alone. No matter how many times he runs the choreography does he find himself satisfied with his performance. He can’t put his 100% into this when a part of him still lingers in thoughts of you. The song still plays on loop but he stops dancing for a moment, trying to bring himself into slowly going through each count to focus on what needs to be addressed. It goes well for the most part but in moments where he needs to catch his breath, to ease his parched throat, his mind stumbles to you. He looks at the clock on the computer screen.

At least he didn’t hit the three hour mark that Yunho betted on.

He changes into something less uncomfortable than a sweaty shirt before stepping out of the now dark studio in search of you. He sees the office not too far from where he is; he takes a deep breath, one that he associates with exhaustion rather than apprehension as he walks to where you said you’d be.

He peeks into the office, seeing you with your fingers threaded to your hair as you write and pause for a moment to shift to your laptop. He stays there for a moment, watching you work in your own zone. He watches you work from time to time, but rarely does he see you scowl at your work. The way your eyebrows furrow at what’s in front of you makes him ponder over what could be giving you a hard time. Maybe he should’ve asked you about yourself as well instead of having your interactions be centered around him. You’ve had a few talks with him though mostly centered around his experience and you occasionally have to reign him in when he’s too caught in his emotions. He wonders if this is why you fell for Seonghwa. He shakes his head to shoo these thoughts before he starts looking like a stalker outside the office, so he knocks twice to get your attention. “Hey,” he trails off, clearing his throat. “Are you ready?” He asks softly, standing awkwardly by the door once you look at him.

You look at the clock. It hasn’t been three hours, well it’s nearly three hours but not quite. “You finished early. Give me ten minutes.” You note as you pack all your things.

He stays in his spot, eyes roaming the room, seeing small things that differentiate your space from the others. You had small post-its color coded over some sheets of paper that were unreadable from his spot, typical work essentials along with a small corgi plush the size of his palm resting next to a few pens. The small thing makes him smile for a moment, once he sees that you’re ready to get moving, it disappears. He lets you lead the way to the car, popping his earphones in for the long ride home.

It’s quiet for the entire ride home, except for the radio playing whatever the public has been into. You don’t look over at San to know that he has his earphones in, neither of you try to start a conversation. Maybe it was better that way anyways.

Once you parked the car, you shake his shoulder gently to wake him up. “We’re here.” He wakes up almost immediately unlike the past times where he makes it near impossible to wake him up. He raises his head, slightly disoriented with the scattered lights in the parking lot, he looks to the driver’s seat and you’re already out of the car. He hops out of the car, running his hand through his hair as he tries to wake himself up. The car beeps and you pull at the door to make sure it’s locked. Once satisfied, you walk around and find him already by the elevator. This surprises you but at the same time were you expecting anything else?

You put on your earphones as well, as you wait for the elevator to arrive. As much as he wants to get on the elevator first, he wasn’t going to let you be on your own at this hour. The doors slide open and the two of you get on, staying on two opposite ends. Your finger presses his floor, out of habit, then you quickly follow it with your floor number. The cool metal shows a hazy image of your reflection, nonetheless you take the chance to look at yourself. Even against this material, your exhaustion is clear. Your eyes linger to the blurry image of San through the walls and his slumped figure as he looks at his phone. Thoughts of how to mend the relationship bubble in your consciousness only to be popped by the elevator arriving at your floor. “Good night.” You say, out of respect.

“Good night.” He returns under his breath, and he waits for the doors to close behind you before he lets out the breath he’s been holding. Now that it’s just him, he lets out a long frustrated groan. Why couldn’t he get himself to talk to you? To clear things out? He never gave you the chance to explain yourself or himself. He just took your lack of answer as a no and admitted defeat. Would trying to get you and Seonghwa together mend his damn heart? He’s also selfish. He wants you. He doesn’t want to lose to his hyung but Seonghwa is also his hyung. He’s someone he respects and loves like an actual brother. Another turmoil in his head as he watches the number on the screen reach his floor.

He arrives at his room, greeted by the sight of Yunho playing League without him. “Damn, look at you. You don’t need me to hard carry you through a match.” San muses as he tosses his bag somewhere in the room. He doesn’t know if Yunho even heard him over the constant comments that the game makes over each kill. Regardless, he needs a shower.

---------

He comes back from his shower and Yunho’s headset rests on his shoulders, scrolling through the internet mindlessly. “Did you get to talk to them?” Yunho asks, his eyes haven’t left the screen-- probably watching someone’s gameplay.

San lets out a disgruntled sound as he dries his hair. “I didn’t get to, they had their earphones on.” Even to him, this explanation sounds weak.

Yunho pauses the video then looks at the male, clearly not buying his words. “San.”

“I’m serious.” San interjects, his face crumpling in discomfort. “Even in the hours of my practice, they were in the office the entire time.”

“You know, if you just said you weren’t ready to talk to them, that works too.” Leave it to Yunho to cut to the chase.

His bottom lip juts out at such a strong statement from his peer. “T-that’s one reason too…” He mumbles as he climbs onto his bed, defeated by how quick it was for Yunho to see through him.

The other male stays on his seat, leaning against the backrest as he watches the other. “There’s no rush, honestly but bro, you really need to talk to them soon. Your own good is for the good of the group too.”

His words make the younger look at him weirdly. He’s aware of how his heart is on his sleeve since birth but his words make him wonder just how evident his heart is. The look on his face makes Yunho laugh softly, as much as San does his best to look after everyone, Yunho still had the upper hand of being an actual older brother. It felt like he was talking to his younger brother with how confused San was. “It was kind of obvious that you couldn’t put yourself into the practice earlier San. None of us just commented on it because we know you.”

San falls onto his pillow, half his face covered by the soft material as he shoots rainclouds at the male who is clearly unaffected by his attitude. How can he? Yunho’s right. It’s obvious when he isn’t putting his heart into it. It’s obvious when he’s got something in his mind while he practices or performs. He didn’t want to affect the boys with his personal issues. While he isn’t ready to talk to you, he needs to find a way to separate his personal life with his work life.

His roommate looks at the bothered male with a sympathetic smile. “Let’s figure this out some other time, it’s 3AM we need sleep.” He shuts off his monitor, already making his way to the lights. In a few days time, their THANXX promotions would start. San’s going to need to separate his emotions soon. Maybe those acting classes would actually help.

--------

It’s D-2 before THANXX promotions and the staff had made sure the boys were eating right. You were grateful for the existence of yogurt and fruits, otherwise having the boys eat their vegetables would be a headache. They’ve been eating enough while making sure to leave room for their rehearsals. Today’s the last day of practicing in their outfits for the future stages. Thankfully, the clothes for the first stage were already ready.

You and the rest of the staff had marked the studio with colored tape, while those who were in charge of production already rehearsed how the cameras would move. Truth be told, you haven’t kept up with the news but with how the production team was moving, you could only assume that the cases were rising then dropping. The boys do one run in their stage outfits with little to no issues-- save for San having to pin his pants. Once that was all over, the boys talked with the stylists for any minor changes and reviews for this set while you and the others removed the tape from the flooring.

The same thing happens for the rest of the night: managers eating ahead, switching around to keep an eye on their rehearsals, the boys eating later on then back dancing and singing. Perfectionists but it is expected, this song was more in their comfort zone after all. You’re the last in the office again, Manager Bae bringing them home this time. Brand deals were your worst enemy but they were a high risk, high reward if done right.

You peek into the studio, seeing the boys already packing up. Manager Bae is off to the side stretching his back after hours of moving around. You toss the keys to him to which he catches with grace, much to the group’s entertainment.

San catches your eye and you glance over at him. Something in you hardens but you try to keep it subtle. “Heading home early?”

He’s caught off guard by the question. “Y-yeah, I’m heading home with them tonight. You don’t have to wait for me.” He answers after recovering his composure. He shifts his face to your direction but you don’t meet his eyes. Silence falls over the two of you for a moment. With that, you nod at his words.

“Is that so? Then, get lots of rest tonight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” With that, you tip your head to bid him goodbye, shuffling away from him and into your office. You don’t give him time to ask if you were going home as well.

His eyes follow your figure as you quickly leave the room and something in him causes him to let out a sigh. He doesn’t have the heart to stop you, wanting nothing but to relieve his stress with a match or two against Yunho. Hell, even just sleeping doesn’t sound like a bad idea. He lets out another sigh, shoulders dropping lower than usual before he steps out of the studio as well, greeted by the sight of his fellow members, bustling about by the elevator.

Sometimes being quick on your feet had its perks, for example, you slipped away from the boys before they could see you scurry away to your office. Once you had arrived, you let out the breath you’ve been holding in since you left the studio. Now that you don’t wait for San in the studio anymore, your schedule has gotten a lot freer than expected. While this should be a good thing, your body isn’t used to it and ends up restless. You sink into your chair, looking through your to-do list. You should be accustomed to rapid changes, but this was a change you had trouble getting used to. For months, you did your work in the studio, while San practiced his dancing and singing. It was to the point where you gave up using earphones to focus and let San perfect his technique until it became white noise to your ears. Now, the silence was deafening. Earphones are popped into your ears, putting your music on shuffle.

[ Manager Bae to Manager Chat ] Bringing the kids home today! You guys want anything on the way back?

You bring your phone up to your eyes, a frown on your lips as you think of what to reply.

[ You to Manager Chat ] Sweet Cream Cold Brew and chicken sandwich please? I’m staying in the office for overtime lol

[ Manager Bae to Manager Chat ] Call.

You look at the time. It’s 9PM. He won’t be back until 10 or 11 depending on the rush. Hell, you realized that it’s been a while since you managed to catch a breather in the office. You could barely keep your focus so you end up looking through your phone, doing the routine clean up for the sake of your phone memory.

For the sake of your sanity, for once, you don’t push yourself to work at least until your (late) dinner comes in. You decide to call your best friend, in need of an ear that would listen because shit your thoughts are just a jumbled mess now. Her phone rings on and on, until you reach the familiar beep of a call untouched. You try again but you receive the same flat note. You tap the red icon on your phone and opt to send them a message.

[ You to Jiwoo ] Need to talk to you about some personal stuff. Nothing life threatening, just super stressed.

You put your phone away and stare at your emails and paperwork. If you can’t write something up, at least you can organize something right? It’s mindless work until Manager Yoon comes back. Jiwoo replies after a while.

[ Jiwoo to You ] Good that you said it’s not life threatening. I just finished watching a zombie movie. I’m free Sunday night/Monday.

Her life choices barely faze you at this point.

[ You to Jiwoo ] Smart choice to watch a zombie movie at night. I’ll be free by like… past midnight?

[ Jiwoo to You ] I’ll buy the soju. Bring mixers and some food.

You break into a fit of giggles at her words. A serious heart-to-heart talk was always capped off with a chill drinking session at her place.

You continue to organize your files, moving some of the files to a hard drive, especially now that some of these files were for the duration of Inception promotion. As you go through your files, you’re greeted by various selfies from the boys, some expected from twenty something boys, some looking very much boyfriend-dol of them. Most of them coming from Seonghwa and San, though San beating the older by a few more. You remember how the conversations always went; San would always ask which one was better, you always doubted the legitimacy of your decisions as usually the social media staff were in charge of that. He would pester you still for which one was better until you chose something. Now that you look at them with the current situation in hand, things slowly made sense.

A heavy sigh slips through your tired lips as you watch the bar fill up, waiting for all these documents and photos to be in your hard drive. You know some of these photos were going to be needed for their birthday videos and other special events so it was best to not delete anything. Somehow your need to organize everything overpowers the small part in you that wants to process and understand everything that happened between you and San.

“I’m back!” Manager Bae declares much to your surprise. You jolt up in your seat, surprised by his sudden presence and you look at the time. 10:15PM.

“No traffic?” You ask and your eyes trail to the food in his hand. He catches how your eyes look at the bag of food instead of at him to which he laughs, like manager, like idol after all. The older male places your food on your table before he settles down by his space.

“Surprisingly none,” he starts, while you rummage through the bag for your sandwich first. “The boys fell asleep fast in the car too so things went smoother than expected.”

“They’ve been constantly on the move since September, haven’t they? It’s bound to catch up to them.” You say before taking a bite. With your free hand, you skim through your documents and emails. “After this round of promotions, they have a show with Kakao plus acting offers already. It’s almost still full speed ahead for them, still. You told the boys of the acting offers already didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Yunho and Jongho are the most excited for it. Expected since they’re the most vocal about wanting to venture into acting.” You could already picture the looks on their face when their wish came true and it brings a small smile to your face. It’s moments like that that makes you think your work is worth it. A few minutes pass as you get halfway through your sandwich and Manager Bae stands up again, ready to call it a day. “Are you still working overtime?” He asks as he glances at the time.

You take a sip of your coffee, feeling a little awake from the gradual caffeine fix. “Yeah, probably just two hours more. I just want to finish all of these deals and stuff.” He looks at you with a hint of concern but nods. You were a stubborn one, not wanting to stop when the finish line is so close.

“Don’t forget you got the car keys for tomorrow’s schedule.”

That makes you pause to do the math of your travel time plus sleep. You have enough time if you keep to your schedule. With that set, you flash him a reassuring grin. “Duly noted with thanks. Get some sleep already, you’ve been on your feet since early morning.” You say as you wave him goodbye. He laughs at your choice of words but lets it be. With that, you’re alone again. Alone with your thoughts and your work.

Maybe silence wasn’t the best way to deal with this.

---------

[ You to Jiwoo ] Fuck it. I’m gonna send you voice notes of everything that has happened. Cause I swear if I don’t get this out of my system, I might just lose it.

You look at the text you composed for a few moments, you’re in bed now, drying your still damp hair. You remove everything and write everything down in your notes app instead. There were things that were better mulled about first instead of being spoken about recklessly. The blank message box taunts you to say something but you don’t. Instead, you put your phone away and ready yourself for sleep.

---------

You wake up to your phone buzzing reminding you of the new day. The last you remember of your hazy dream was San. [dream dialogue?] You’re not sure if that was a good dream or not, details fade before you could make more sense of what it was. Regardless, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth about today.

[ You to ATEEZ ] I’ll wait for you boys at the parking lot. Be there by an hour latest.

[ Seonghwa to ATEEZ ] frodo_thumbs_up

With his reply, you trust that the rest of them would know of your order. You finally get out of bed, getting ready to start what could be another long day. Once you look presentable, you make sure you have everything you need for the day. As you make your way to the parking lot, you look through your messages, and you feel a little better knowing that all your drafted proposals have been approved and are just waiting for the green light from the partners. This also means you have to give the boys the rundown soon. You sent a message to the manager chat of the updates.

The doors open and one by one the members enter, causing the van to roar to life-- in this case, not the engine. The sudden influx of noise startles you, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

“Manager-nim!” whines Wooyoung, who was seated right behind your seat. “Why don’t you pick us up from the dorm anymore?”

You reach behind you to pat his head, or well whatever you can pat more of. “Wooyoung, you boys are already adults..” You reason lightly, trying to keep your tone light. Unfortunately, your head is anything but light. How exactly do you make sense of a dream where someone who has feelings for you appears in them? Especially a talent. You’ve heard stories, rare that they ended on a good note too.

Those words bring some sort of feeling in San. A bitterness that not even his performance insecurities could bring. He had his earphones in, not wanting to talk to anyone this early.

‘San’s not a morning person for the most part, just let him warm up on his own.’

Manager Hwang’s voice rings in your head and it’s the only thing that’s trying to reason with your uneasiness. Once you’ve appeased Wooyoung, you count the boys to make sure they’re all accounted for before driving them to the company.

The car mellows down into quiet murmurs between those who were awake and in between awake and slumber. It felt like everything was back to normal for the most part.

Things go by like normal, stylists who you haven’t seen due to schedule changes have decided to gush to you over the latest gossip that you missed out on. At least they were nice enough to gossip with you after styling the boys, otherwise that would’ve been a disaster.

“Yes, so they disregarded their contract and are dating a fan.” The tone gives you an odd impression.

“You make it sound like this isn’t the first time he’s done it.” You note, frowning at such idea entering your mind. It’s the look on the stylist’s face that tells you you’re correct.

He sighs. “I’ve worked with them for a number of years, their contract states they’re not supposed to date for at least two years after debut. This boy doesn’t even cover it up while doing his work. I’m not one to shame an idol for dating, I’m worried for those who have to cover up his trail and his members if he gets caught.”

Your blood runs cold at that. It sounds all too familiar for you. But you don’t show signs of your fear to the stylist, knowing better than to talk about issues of the heart with that at a time like this. That said, you opt to just frown and sigh at such actions. It’s hypocritical of you but you couldn’t get yourself to act any other way. “I hope he gets his act together.” You mumble.

“Who gets his act together?”

Everyone jumps at the sudden voice and heads turn to the direction. You stand up immediately after calming your racing heart. “Wooyoung! Don’t scare us like that!” While your tone carries no hint of malice or disappointment, it does carry a tone of someone who is used to his antics.

Your nagging causes him to snicker. “Sorry for scaring you.” He starts, while giving the other staff members an apologetic bow. “Who were you talking about?” Leave it Wooyoung to sniff out the sauce.

At his question, you shake your head, flicking his forehead in the process. “Nothing that concerns you, Wooyoung. You’re done with your hair and make up?” You shift the topic to something else, much to the relief of the staff and your heart.

“Yes~” God, it’s so difficult to stay mad at this boy. You watch him shuffle away to change into his performance clothes then shift your attention to the rest of the boys who were just catching up on a few minutes of sleep while waiting for their call time.

Today’s stage for them was going to be pre-recorded as they had another guesting at the time the music show will air. You wake up those who were still asleep when they had thirty minutes before their call time. “Guys, get ready. You’re going to be called to perform soon.” You say softly, not wanting to scare them. This somehow gets them on their feet quicker than expected, you look around then you spot the camera pointed at their direction. As a reflex, you immediately cover your face and you’re thankful that San managed to step in front of you, now joking about with Wooyoung as they warm up. You take the chance to slip away from the camera and you watch from a distance as they get ready, right on time for one of the production staff to usher them to the stage as they hand them their microphones.

Once they bid their goodbye to the camera and make their way off to the sides of the stage, a part of you falls into unease. Seasoned eyes look around the room, trying to spot for anything that the boys may have forgotten. ‘Mingi didn’t forget his gloves, same goes for Wooyoung. Did Seonghwa not wear his choker…?’ You ask yourself questions, all of which were answered as you look around the room and the tables. A part of you wants to assume this is just your brain drifting to that weird dream you had and for once, you hope that this logical side of you is right.

The monitor in the room has you watching how the boys do their rehearsals, two of which were to get used to the stage difference, the last being for the camera work. Once all that was done, alongside the makeup retouches, they were ready for the final run. It’s not a surprise that the last run was better than the rest, you checked your phone, it would take them roughly ten minutes to get back to the room.

It’s been a while since they finished and you excuse yourself from the mindless chatter the other staff had busied themselves with. “Get ready to pack up already.” Your voice gentle but still holding authority as you knew of their schedules. Where were the boys? You step out of the room looking for them. It took a few moments until you did find them but they made no move of leaving their spot. Something in you forces you forward and you see one of the production staff members throwing their anger on them.

“Excuse me, did something happen?” Truth be told, you hate confrontations but this is part of your work. If this argument is stretched any longer, you fear that the boys would be late to their next schedule.

The staff member’s voice booms, bouncing off the walls, as he decides to lecture you on how to make artists be aware of their own mishaps with logistical matters. While he didn’t call you names, it was evident that his anger was starting to become misdirected. It’s a miracle how you managed to hold your ground amidst the tirade despite the storm brewing behind your eyes. So you smile, bright and easy against the man. “Yes, while I would like us to deal with this now, I have to bring these boys to their next schedule--” He cuts you off with another rant, and your features stiffen. As you were about to open your mouth, you feel someone’s arms block you. A few blinks try to get you back to reality and you look at the arm in between you and the staff.

Seonghwa.

Hongjoong and San are trying to appease the staff member. Your mind goes into static, you tell the others to go back to the room to pack everything up. “Meet you by the car. Your next schedule is an hour away. Let’s hope there’s no traffic.” You say and Yunho manages to reign the rest in to do as told. Afterwards, you shift your attention back to the staff and put the two boys behind you. “I’ll cut to the chase. Here’s my contact details.” You bring out your calling card and place it in his hands. “We can arrange damage fees by tonight. I apologize for the hasty end to this discussion but the boys still have promised schedules to fulfill.” You bow out of respect and apology and leave the scene. The three following you close behind.

You know the three are talking, over what? You aren’t sure. Your mind’s on auto pilot, overwhelmed with everything. The stress has been at an all time high for you but you always push it down, focusing on what’s in front of you. Yet, the staff’s outburst is probably the last thing that’s going to break you. A subtle pinch to your arm and you bring yourself back to reality. You check their dressing room and everyone’s already gone except for the boys who were just about to open the door. “Good, let’s go.”

---------

The trip to their radio guesting was bustling with confusion towards the angry staff as they try retrace their steps towards that event. You on the other hand, are just grateful for the lack of traffic, you’ll get to the next schedule with a few minutes to spare. Nothing from their discussion enters your ears, too focused into making sure that everyone gets to their destination in one piece. You can deal with your emotions and reactions when the day ends.

On the other hand, San’s been brooding about what has happened. Seonghwa and Hongjoong ask the members about the broken mic that fortunately lasted until the end of their performance. He didn’t like how things played out there. A lot of things are brewing in his mind, all of which were related to you and Seonghwa. His shortcomings of not responding immediately also being an additional burden. The staff’s outburst stunned everyone and it was Seonghwa who managed to respond first by stepping in between the two of you. As expected of the eldest. Hongjoong and him only snapped out of it after he moved. No wonder, you preferred his hyung. Something was swirling in his pit and it wasn’t anything good.

Before San could make sense of these conflicting emotions, the car smoothly parks and the doors slide open. “We’re here.” You state and you hop off the car. He blinks out of his thoughts and follows the rest of the boys. They’re greeted by a warmer group of staff who give them a rundown of what’s to happen for this guesting. They’re greeted by lunch sets with their names on it and that was enough to elicit excited chatter from them. When the staff informs them that they’re eating as well in front of the camera as they talk about their album, it gets only louder from there. Even it gets him flashing a genuine smile, they drop their bags off in the room before being ushered to where teh show will be aired.

You followed the boys and were greeted the same way they were greeted. You talk with some of the staff on the way inside, they hand you your lunch set and you stare at it dumbfounded. “I don’t remember this being part of the fee..” You mumble. The staff catches your words and she beams at you.

“It’s on us! We know you guys have been on your feet for so long, so we figured it would be good to give you guys something to eat.” She explains and it’s another whiplash of emotions in you. Maybe you do need a day off soon. You look at the woman in stunned silence for a moment before bowing out of gratitude.

As the boys do their thing in front of the cameras, you stay in the room, slowly eating the meal you were gifted with. Your confusing dream must have been a warning of what this day would be. With this hour to yourself, your mind wanders to the gossip earlier: an idol dating behind everyone’s backs, for the lack of a better term. You shared the same sentiments, idols should be able to date whoever they want, but it’s the disregard to their contract and group that stresses you out more. One way or another, it strays towards San’s confession and his avoidance. He’s a man with his heart on his sleeve, and a head more stubborn than a bull. Just who did he think you had an interest on? You were mindlessly picking at your food, before snapping out of it when you remembered that you were eating. It took longer for you to finish your meal, not used to these portions after months of being on the move but you managed. Your phone buzzes and it startles you out of the silence.

[Jiwoo to You] What time are you free

[Jiwoo to You] need your help on making a statement.

You stare at the messages in confusion. What is she on? Just as you were about to answer, you hear the claps and the choruses of ‘You did well!’, ‘Thank you for the hard work!’.

[You to Jiwoo] three hours.

[You to Jiwoo] what happened?

You keep your phone and clean up after yourself just in time for the boys to enter the room with the same staff member telling them that the meal is free. The director follows them and thanks everyone for the successful shoot, thanking you as well for taking care of the eight boys. The praise catches you off guard and all you could do is laugh softly and thank them for their words and work.

Everyone could feel the end of the day’s schedule when they hit the road back to the agency. The boys were still in their stage outfits and they wanted nothing but to be in something more comfortable. For once they weren’t fast asleep in the car, they were too busy eating still (is there even a limit to their appetite?). All you could hear was their chewing and occasional excited yelling because of how kind the staff were to provide them with food and just let them talk about their album freely. A part of you smiles as they recount the last schedule. Let them have their fun before they end up talking about that damned mic. You had to admit though, hearing them eat is kind of making you hungry too.

“We’re here.” You state and everyone’s surprisingly finished with their meals. They’re that hungry? They hop off the car and rustle about to return into their regular clothes. They had to return these clothes to their stylists to prep them for the succeeding weeks of performance.

Once they’re greeted by their stylists, the environment suddenly booms with energy. Food really does something to these eight boys. It takes a while before you’re greeted by them in their normal clothes again. Their makeup long gone as well. They look like regular twenty something like this. Manager Yoon exits the office, taking the keys from you, the swift work surprising you.

“Hey!”

“My turn, remember? Hongjoong is staying late tonight..”

You pout, sometimes being the youngest in a company makes it easy for your seniors to tease you. After his words, you nod. “Alright, just give me the keys when you get back.” You wave the rest of them goodbye, and you look at Hongjoong who’s just leaning against the wall. “Are you going to stay late to work on music?”

He flashes an apologetic smile. “You need our side of our story too.”

This was going to be a long day but it had to be addressed. You just hope it would end with enough time to get to talk to Jiwoo.

The next few hours went by with the two of you trying to clear everything. Hongjoong recounting everything that had to deal with the microphone before the staff’s outburst. He even apologizes for you becoming the victim to those words.

“Hongjoong, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize for something you didn’t do.” You counter gently. You just wanted your bed, to just retreat from today’s events. You can write up an email to the staff in the morning.

“It’s still our fault, regardless, that you had to deal with that.” Hongjoong returns, he’s not angry at all. On the contrary, he’s frustrated. Not only does he have to deal with schedules on top of schedules, composing, and San’s emotions, he had to deal with an unnecessary outburst that shouldn’t have been directed at you.

You just flash him a smile, dropping the topic. “Anyways, I’ll relay this to the staff in the morning. Manager Bae will be in charge of your schedules tomorrow.” You look at the time, only half an hour before Jiwoo calls. “Let’s get going?”

The ride home is quiet as well, at least the silence isn’t stifling. He busies himself with his phone, looking through anything new that has happened in social media. You look at the clock from time to time, a little bit worried for your friend who would call anytime soon.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asks, his voice snapping you out of your anxious state.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He doesn’t need to deal with your own issues. “Can you keep an eye on my phone? I’m waiting for a call.” You ask just in time for the light to turn green.

He spots your phone, leaning against the cup holder and puts it on his lap as he goes through his phone. Fifteen minutes in and your phone suddenly vibrates in his hand. He looks at the screen and reads the name out loud. “Jiwoo is calling you..” He says, a little confused if this is the call you were waiting for.

An annoyed hiss slips from your lips. “Pick it up.” It was inevitable.

“I’m driving.” You state, asking for a few more minutes. Voice a little louder, to carry over to your phone.

“I’ll be quick, I need your help making a statement.” Her voice rings loud and clear. You look at Hongjoong, he probably put it on speaker. You shoot him a look to keep quiet.

“On what?”

“Fans found out one of my idols is dating and have been emailing the agency nonstop. I made a draft already and I need your eyes and thoughts to fix any errors.” She says and you rub your temple with your free hand.

“Send the draft to my email. I’ll get to it in forty five minutes. I’m on my way home.” You state, as you drum your fingers against the steering wheel. “I’m guessing this is what the staff was talking about earlier.” You say though a little softer.

“You know how word travels fast in this industry.” She returns with a groan. “Call me when you get home, I’ve sent the email already.”

“Will do, bye.”

She hangs up and you let out the breath you’ve been holding. The silence that hangs over you and Hongjoong is heavy. “Whatever just happened, is between us. If the others find out about it, let them find out about it themselves.” You rarely sound this stern and stressed that all Hongjoong could do is nod.

Maybe that was why you rejected San. Jiwoo was right, word travels fast in this industry, it’s why he always has to make sure the boys don’t go out of line too much for their sake. He lets them learn from their mistakes but none of them grave enough to affect their name. This one though seemed heavy, especially if fans were emailing the company already. He was going to need to talk to someone though to know how to deal with San should things go out of hand. But how can he when you tell him not to with such a tone? Hell, you don’t even know that he knows that San confessed to you.

Once you enter the parking lot you unlock the doors. “Get out of the car already, so that once I park the car smooth ride up to our apartments.” You say, a little gentler this time as you seem to have calmed down after such a bombardment of information. He looks at you with raised brows but follows nonetheless.

By the time you get out of the car, you see Hongjoong waiting for you with the doors already open. An odd weight falls between the two of you as the doors close.

“Is that why you rejected San?” Hongjoong carefully asks as the elevator slowly goes up.

Your eyes are shut as you let yourself catch a breather before answering his question. “You know already, huh.”

“Seonghwa and I kind of figured it out with his sudden mood shifts.” He reasons. “Yunho figured it out too but I doubt the others do yet.” He adds.

A groan slips from you and you want nothing to just slip down the floor. “Can we talk about this confession thing when your Thanxx promotions end?”

“That’s too far..” He tells you. For once, you can see why the members look up and respect him so much.

A pause.

“Fine, Monday. You have no schedules anyways.” This makes him smile a bit. The sooner this is fixed, the better. The conversation is fortunately, cut short when the elevator rings at your floor. “Get some sleep, Hongjoong.” You bid him goodbye as you step out.

He calls for your name carefully and you stop in your tracks. The lights from the elevator hasn’t closed either so you turn to look at him properly. “Thank you really for everything. You can lean on me or Seonghwa at least, for anything.”

Something in you softens at those words and you nod. “Yes, sleep well Hongjoong. Manager Bae’s going to be the one in charge of your schedules in the morning and afternoon.” With that he waves you goodbye, the doors closing between the two of you.

Once you were left alone, your eyes heat up but you shake yourself back to reality. “Still got work.” You remind yourself.

You don’t know what time you fell asleep, but it’s already noon. “Shit.” You immediately check your laptop if you’ve sent the revised statement to Jiwoo that you worked on. A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you see that you did. You reviewed your emails and see if there’s anything you need to get done. For the first time, you don’t have much to deal with so you check on your social media to see what’s been going on.

The idol that Jiwoo was stressing over last night is trending.

You stare at his name for a few moments, deciding if you should check what the noise is about or what the fans have been saying but you think otherwise. Instead, you opt to get ready for what’s left of the day before heading to the agency.

--------

The boys were on their phones while waiting for their call time. Some of them playing video games while the others look at social media. They see a familiar name on the trending topics and decide to see what’s going on.

Seonghwa immediately leans to Hongjoong and shows the news to which the latter winces. He looks over at San and he and Wooyoung are also looking at the same post.

“Should I message him?” Wooyoung asks, he glances over at the older two when he feels their gazes on him. “Did you see the news too?”

“Yeah. Check on him if you can.” Seonghwa gently urges, worried also for their friend. Truthfully, the rest of the group wasn’t that close to that idol but considering Wooyoung, he’s bound to have some sort of friendship with him.

San’s busy in his head, mulling over the news. They just resigned. Their friend resigned over being caught in a dating news. His eyebrows are furrowed, deep in thought as he’s just as worried as his friend but he’s worried also for you. For some reason, even when he tries to avoid you, his thoughts still go back to you. How many messages has he composed that he would delete? How many times has he tried to get himself to act normally only to fail and close himself off from you?

Hongjoong keeps his eye on his two members, clearly with their own problems regarding the news. He knows one will be fine, but the other… it’s hard to say. He looks over at Seonghwa who’s a little bothered by the entire thing as well. “We need to talk to Manager-nim later.”

“I’ll handle it. Think you can handle San for the time being?”

“Yep.”

--------

[Jiwoo to You] well fuck, regardless of the statement, they just resigned.

It takes a moment for you to understand what she was referring to but once you did, you freeze up. It’s like all your biggest fears were coming true, though not for you, it’s right in front of you.

[You to Jiwoo] drinks this weekend? Your place?

[Jiwoo to You] call.

You were going to put your own problems on the back burner for now. This girl probably had to hold so much together thanks to that guy and now things aren’t getting any better until probably months down the line. Too busy in your own thoughts, you accidentally spill water on yourself. “Please.” You murmur to no one in particular as you wrap your jacket around your waist before cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

--------

[Seonghwa to You] Are you free later? I think we need to talk about San.

And here you are thinking you were their manager but then again, the age difference makes it easier for them to see you as their friend after work. You lean against the back rest of your chair.

[You to Seonghwa] Yeah, free by 6pm. I’ll wait for you.

Seonghwa shows the reply to Hongjoong and they relax a little. They need to know what you think of San because it was starting to get clearer that you never gave him a definite response to his feelings.

You stare at your messages, even going as far as reading through your conversations with San which consisted of various topics and banter-- with the occasional fishing for praise from him.

Why were you so affected by his feelings?

You spend some time watching some of the videos he has of the members having fun, you could clearly hear his laughter on one of them and it makes you smile a bit, missing that sound a little too much.

It takes your phone buzzing with another notification to snap you out of your thoughts. “Ah, two more hours.” You note at the time, not really looking forward to your talk.

[You to Seonghwa] do you want me to get you something to eat as well? Lol

[Seonghwa to You] hehe please?

[You to Seonghwa] lmao, fine.

Still a kid at heart, really.

--------

If the food you have on the counter from 7/11 says anything, it’s that you decided to wait for Seonghwa before eating, and that you’re prepared for his appetite.

[You to Seonghwa] I’m at the office kitchen.

[You to Seonghwa] I also have meat.

[Seonghwa to You] ^^*

His reply makes you snort, already picturing his excited grin at the mere mention of meat. It won’t be too long before they arrive at the office. The door opens mere minutes later and while you expected the room to suddenly boom with noise, it was only Seonghwa who entered the room. He catches the look in your eyes and for some reason wanted to tease you about your feelings but now isn’t the right time for that.

“Relax. Everyone else is just changing and getting ready to head home. I told them I’m staying behind to do some vocal practice.” He knows you well enough to know that you need the complete story when it comes to their schedules. Also because it’s not the complete truth.

You sigh in relief and gesture for him to sit and eat already. “Let’s talk about it when everyone else is gone.”

“No one can hear us here. The room next to us is the gym, the room next to the gym is the studio so you’re fine.”

“Seonghwa.” You say, still a little tense with the mere idea of the boys walking in on your talk.

“You can’t push this away forever.” He cuts you off, his voice taking on a little bit of strength that surprises the two of you. The look on your eyes makes him look away as he starts to eat. “I’m sorry about the tone but I’m serious. You can’t push this away and think it’ll fix itself.”

Silence falls on the two of you as you unpack your meal. You let go of the tone slipup, he was right and you doubted this issue could wait for Jiwoo. So while you wait for your respective meals to heat up, you tell Seonghwa what happened: starting from the small things San would do since your first day up until the moment he confessed to you. You admit that you were stumped into who he would think that you would fancy as you have inevitably been stuck to them since their promotions started.

That’s one thing Seonghwa didn’t expect, sort of. San’s jealousy is something everyone’s familiar with but jealousy in the aspect of romance wasn’t something Seonghwa expected in this situation. It actually makes him forget that his meal is still hot, causing him to slightly burn his tongue from the unexpected temperature spike. At the sight of his blunder, you hand him a glass of water to which he refuses as he struggles to chew the hot piece of beef. You decide to just watch his struggle as you sit there and eat your food.

Once he succeeds, he takes a few sips of water. His eyes clearly watery from the pain. “Are you okay or do you need a moment?” You ask him, trying to hide the fact that you were amused by his struggle to regain his composure. He finishes what’s left of his water before he turns his attention to you.

“Did you ever tell him your answer to his confession?” He asks you and it’s the way your shoulders drop that tell you that how you answered or lack thereof is the reason why San is the way he is. “You didn’t tell him that you like him too?”

Now’s your turn to choke on your food. You stare at him incredulously as you try to regain some sort of control with your food mishap. “W-wait..” you sputter out as you try to catch your breath. It takes some time before you’re able to breathe normally and eat. “I never said anything about me liking him?”

“You never told him?”

“How do you even react to someone who tells you they like you while nearly about to fall asleep while standing?”

“I don’t know…” he trails off, gathering the right words in his head, just as he was about to continue, the door swinging open causes the two of you to stop.

“Didn’t know you guys were still here.” To be honest, you didn’t think San would be in the studio either.

“San-ah, I thought you went home with the rest of the boys already.” Seonghwa says, straightening up as he sets his food down. The younger catches how his hyung’s eyes flit to you then to him.

The younger steps inside the kitchen, refilling his water bottle. “I didn’t. I wanted to squeeze in a workout. I thought you left already.” He returns. All you want to do right now is leave the room. He turns to the two of you once his bottle was filled and it’s unnerving to see his eyes look so steely.

“I was going to leave later but we can go home now.” Seonghwa returns calmly. His eyes return to you trying to look as if he was asking if they can go home. You knew better, the talk was going to happen some other time. With that look, you quickly finish your meal, then packing up the trash.

“Sure. Let’s go home.”

---------

The ride home wasn’t any better: both of them busy with their phones, both sitting at different sides of the car. At least you had full control of the radio.

Now in San’s eyes, he wonders why Seonghwa would’ve said he was going to do some vocal practice when he was eating dinner with you in the kitchen. He didn’t think of his hyung as someone who would lie. He’s better than that isn’t he? The younger does feel a sense of annoyance though, that he would say such only to go behind their backs and eat with you. He’s trying hard not to think of the worse of his hyung knowing well that he’s the better option between the two of you, but with the recent news of their friend resigning due to dating along with his feelings for you? It’s a challenge. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, doing his best to calm himself down.

“San-ah, your shoulders are tense.” The older’s soft voice calls him out of his thoughts and it effectively gets him to drop his shoulders. Seonghwa looks at the other for a moment then returns his gaze to his phone. He worries of what goes on in his head especially after seeing the two of you in the kitchen. He genuinely didn’t think that San would stay late especially during promotional periods. He worries that he may have made it worse for everyone, especially him and you.

“We’re here.” Your voice makes the two raise their heads from their screens. The cold lighting of the parking lot telling them that they are home. You hop out of the car first, waiting for them to get out while making sure you got everything with you. Seonghwa goes ahead, hoping that the talk (or whatever was talked about) makes you move.

San does it for you though. “So I guess I got my answer?” He pipes up, lingering around you. His gaze beyond you but at his hyung who’s waiting for the lift. Your confused look makes him hiss in frustration. His reaction makes you snap, too tired from all the mental gymnastics you do, too tired from bringing them from point A to point B day in and day out, too tired from keeping yourself together for their sake, for your friend’s sake and for yourself.

“San, how sure are you about it? All of it? You’re confusing my care for something else. Everyone is worried about you, I have to worry about you as well and while I am your friend, I’m still your manager. At the end of the day, my job is to make sure you guys are able to do your job as artists.” Your blood runs cold at how those words rush out of you, you could barely look at him. The only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the car’s security lock. “San, how sure are you about my feelings? How are you filling in the blanks that I should be filling?”

Those words make his feet move, leaving you in the dirt as he walks over to where Seonghwa is. For a moment, you feared that he would get physical-- boy has a black belt after all. He doesn’t. He just lingers by the back, waiting for the lift. He should’ve done a more strenuous workout just so his mind would stop running.

Seeing him look like so makes you sigh. You had to admit your faults on that, you’re just so tired. You promised your day off would be after promotions but you kind of wish you could make it earlier and have it this week. By the time you arrive at where the two are, the doors of the elevator opens letting the three of you in. You don’t press your floor number first, letting the boys get their rest first. You’re getting additional hours of sleep today anyways.

“Good night.” You mutter as the two of them step out of the elevator. Seonghwa returns the greeting and so does San. Though one looks back and gives you a friendly wave, the other stalks off, shoulders just as tensed as it was earlier. You look at Seonghwa and shake your head. That’s all he needed to know as to how the mere moments he was out of earshot went.

“Joong and I will deal with him. Get some rest and think it through. We still need to talk again.”

“Yeah.” You just hope you didn’t fuck it up for everyone. Something in your gut told you otherwise.

Part 5

#ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez san #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez writings #ateez scenarios #bro it's been more than a month since i posted something #weeks since i wrote something properly #lmao pandemic tingz #anyways have this #the mere idea of not being able to talk out your issues just because youre so busy is Stressful in itself holy fuck #my writings

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