ao3: fairyniceyeah ☆ you are enough and you are loved and everything will be okay, in time ♡ don't you worry 'cause I'm standing with you ♡ this is a safe space and if you want to talk I'll always be there
Fairy's Masterlist 2024
Fairy's Masterlist 2025
Fairy's Masterlist - ATEEZ
Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN
Fairy's Masterlist - Stray Kids
Fairy's Masterlist - The Rose
Fairy's June of Doom 2024
Fairy's Sicktember 2024
Fairy's Sicktember 2025
Fairy's Advent Calendar 2024 - You made my dawn
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Request list for Fairy
Please send some requests or (personal) questions or whatever you like! I am a pretty open person and am happy to share stuff about my writing process or things about myself or whatever you would like to know😊
I love to have a full inbox and I promise I will do my best to get to the fics even if it takes some time! However I do have some issues with time right now. Work takes up a lot of effort and I don't often find the time to write much. Please understand that it takes pretty long for me.
I currently feel most comfortable writing ATEEZ, SEVENTEEN and THE ROSE though if inspiration strikes I might get back into writing STRAY KIDS more often.
Honestly I don’t know how to specify what I write – it really depends on the requests. Worst case scenario is that I thank you for the requests and will kindly tell you ‘no, I can’t’ or refer you to a different blog! For each group check out the members I will write for below – members in (brackets) will probably only appear as sickies if you request them!
Please be patient with me though! I may not get to your request for some time but I will try my best!
If you want to know about me feel free to ask but for now let me tell you a bit about myself:
I am from Germany and was born in 2001
I have only been a K-Pop fan since early 2023 when I accidentally stumbled upon a Stray Kids sickfic on ao3
I switched to tumblr now because a) some friends have my ao3 and I feel weird posting there and b) the K-Pop community is more active here and I feel so thankful for every like and comment and interaction I receive here since it doesn’t feel like I am writing into the void now <3
I honestly love talking about my interests so hit me up in the chat or asks
I finished my studies and am now officially a social worker!
Groups I stan:
⌛ ATEEZ ⌛
I discovered ATEEZ through Kingdom: Legendary War and fell in love with their concept and Hongjoong’s long hair lol
my favorite songs are: Cyberpunk, Wonderland (Symphony No. 9), Guerilla, MATZ and Empty Box
my biases are: Hongjoong (ult. Bias), Jongho and Yunho
will write for: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, (Yeosang), San, (Wooyoung) and Jongho
💎 SEVENTEEN 💎
let’s say it’s all @sickiecloud's fault:)
I saw them at Lollapalooza Berlin and I am awed!!!
my favourite songs are: MAESTRO, Snap Shoot, CHEERS, Super and Don Quixote
my biases are: Woozi, Seungcheol and Seungkwan
will write for: S.Coups, Jeonghan, Joshua, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon -> all, honestly, depends on the ask
🧭 STRAY KIDS 🧭
are my first K-Pop love but I am not a hard-core Stay
I saw them twice in Paris (D1 was my birthday and it was magical!)
my favorite songs are: Hellevator, Chk Chk Boom, Burnin' Tires, MIROH and Lonely St.
my biases are: Lee Know and Seungmin
will write for: Lee Know, (Hyunjin) and Seungmin
🌹 THE ROSE 🌹
I know they aren’t really K-Pop but I adore them and their music so much I went to four concerts (drove over 4 hours twice) and got up at 3AM for the Coachella livestreams
my favorite songs are: Sorry, Nevermind, Eclipse, Back to Me and She’s in the Rain (it was so hard to decide, they are all so good!)
my bias is: Hajoon
will write for: all of them
I occasionally listen to Day6 (Zombie, Congratulations and Love me or Leave me) and BtoB (Beautiful Pain, Pray and The Song).
Fairy's Ten Writing Tips
Emeto Cheat Sheet
Warnings and disclaimer below cut
I am very reluctant to assume anything about our favorite idols. However, in my writings – though I do my best to stay as true to their personalities and characteristics as possible - I think of them of "just another character" not a reflection of the real person. Remember that nothing they think, do or say in fanfictions might be what the actually would think, do or say. Remember that these fanfictions are fictional works and do not reflect the real-life idols.
Summary: The arena was filled with the worried calls of Carats asking what was going on, Seungcheol talking and trying to do damage control (Soonyoung heard the tremble in his voice) and the pained gasps of Jihoon struggling for oxygen.
Slipping, stumbling and falling weren’t unusual in the lives of idols. All of them had stumbled on a misstep, had slipped while doing a dance choreo or had fallen because of tangled limbs.
(Or because their leader tended to leave his shoes lying around in the hallway. It hadn’t really hurt, Soonyoung knew, but whenever Minghao wanted something from Seungcheol he would start with “Remember when you left your shoes …” and Seungcheol would rush to comply with the younger’s wishes. They all had bets on how long that would still go on. But that was a different story.)
Point is, it happened to all of them in the past and would happen to them in the future. Checking them over and reassuring themselves that the clumsy member of the moment was fine before laughing at them was the norm.
So, when he first saw Woozi slip on the wet stage and consequently fall, Hoshi wasn’t too concerned. It was Woozi, he’d be terribly embarrassed but laugh it off. Besides, he was so concerned with not falling himself that he couldn’t spare much more than a fleeting thought to the poor producer who would now be soaked in ice-cold water. It had been trained into them that they were not to stop a performance unless absolutely necessary. Thus, Hoshi danced on.
He was only really clued in to the fact that something was wrong when he noticed the stadium go quiet and Carats started to yell and scream. As he looked around for the cause, he saw in his periphery that Seungkwan and Joshua slowed down their dancing and then stopped.
A glance to his right made Soonyoung stop in his tracks - so suddenly he slid on the wet ground a bit before coming to a full stop. Woozi hadn’t gotten back up from the ground, lying sprawled out on his back. Seungkwan and Joshua had been forced to pause their dancing in order to not step on him. Worst of all, even from the distance and the rain obscuring his view, Soonyoung could see how Jihoon was heaving in deep breaths and there was pain written all over his features.
Ignoring his idol training and the thousands of fans starting to panic, Soonyoung rushed over to his best friend, crashing to his knees and sliding over to him. Up close, Jihoon looked even worse. What had seemed like he was taking deep breaths turned out to be the opposite. Jihoon was breathing faster now, panicked, like he couldn’t get any air in.
Soonyoung desperately hoped that the younger really just got the wind knocked out of him. That he was shocked by air leaving his lungs on impact. That he was embarrassed even. Anything but …
💎
In the back of his mind he was aware of the rest of the members having stopped dancing and coming to form a circle around them. Normally Jihoon would have hated all the attention but with his eyes blown wide in fear, Soonyoung wasn’t even sure that he knew what was happening. He gently took Jihoon’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over wet skin to comfort him.
“Jihoonie, breathe”, he whispered, “it’s okay, breathe.”
Instantly he noticed a shift in the atmosphere and looked up.
As he had assumed, the members had built a protective barrier around them and only then did Soonyoung realize that the music was still playing and there were still all the lights on. Jihoon was on the ground, injured, and nothing had stopped. Why hadn’t the crew turned the lights and sound off?
The arena was filled with the worried calls of Carats asking what was going on, Seungcheol talking and trying to do damage control (Soonyoung heard the tremble in his voice) and the pained gasps of Jihoon struggling for oxygen.
Jeonghan broke the circle, rushing towards them. Instantly Mingyu and Minghao moved closer together, protecting them from the view of the fans. All of their faces were turned inward, on Jihoon, not the crowd. It was smart, probably, because Soonyoung could see the tears on Seungkwan’s and Seokmin’s faces and the horror he felt reflected on the others’ faces. No need to freak out the fans anymore.
“What happened?”, Jeonghan asked, his headset microphone nowhere to be seen. It was then that Hoshi realized he himself was still wearing his headset and he rushed to rip it off and throw it into a nearby puddle. His earlier words had been transmitted to the whole hall. He found he couldn’t care less but there was no need for Carats to hear them further. He looked around and found Jihoon’s red handheld microphone had rolled away from his limp hand.
“He slipped, I think. I didn’t quite see”, Soonyoung said, still rubbing Jihoon’s wrist. “Jihoonie, breathe.”
The vocalist had his eyes locked on Soonyoung, still struggling with taking in any air. His breathing was still too fast and shallow. Fear slowly began to claw at Soonyoung’s own chest - if Jihoon was just shocked from the fall, shouldn’t he be recovering by now?
“He slid on the wet stage and his ankle gave way”, Joshua said from behind Soonyoung, voice trembling a bit, “I turned away for the spin and he didn’t get back up.”
Seungkwan nodded, wiping at his face. “Woozi-hyung always gets back up… I thought he would just get back up.” Vernon squeezed his hand.
Soonyoung refocused on Jihoon, gently reaching out to touch Jihoon’s cheek to comfort him. “Try to take slower breaths. Small, not big, okay?”, he whispered, wiping away the rainwater on Jihoon’s face but it was futile. Immediately more cold water gathered on Jihoon’s face. “Breathe like you are trying to blow out a candle, okay?” He demonstrated what he meant and for a moment Jihoon seemed to try to follow along. Yet it was obvious that his chest wasn’t rising and falling as it should. And then he coughed as rain fell into his mouth. Instantly he curled closer into himself, whimpering in pain. On instinct Jeonghan and Soonyoung grabbed Jihoon’s shoulders and hips. Seokmin gasped behind them, Minghao muttering a shaking reassurance.
“Don’t move”, Jeonghan commanded, his voice firm, “you might have injured your spine.”
Soonyoung ignored his own tears that built up unwelcome pressure behind his eyes. He stroked Jihoon’s hair as the younger fought against the pain, gasping. One of his hands reached for Soonyoung’s and he gripped it tightly. Jihoon needed this kind of comfort in high-pressure situations. His fingers were cold, shaking.
Suddenly somebody stepped forward - Jun and Wonwoo. Wonwoo’s bare arms glistened in the rain, his jacket shrugged off as both of them held the fabric over Jihoon’s face to protect it from the falling rain. Vaguely Soonyoung was aware of Seungcheol yelling into the mic, ignoring any protocol, for the staff to cut sound and light.
And then the stage was plunged into darkness, only the Caratbongs illuminating the arena. Somebody, Soonyoung thought it might have been Jun, whispered: “Finally.”
Within seconds a few members held Caratbongs themselves, Soonyoung couldn’t tell how but from the decorations he saw he assumed they belonged to front row fans. One Caratbong even had a half-soaked, half-peeled-off Ppyopuli sticker on it, causing Soonyoung to have to force down a sob.
“I’m…”, Jihoon tried to speak but he broke off, his breathing not giving him enough air to continue. His voice was weak, wet with something Soonyoung feared wasn’t just tears. He didn’t need to speak. Soonyoung could see the terror in his eyes, knowing what Jihoon couldn’t say.
“Soonyoungie”, Jeonghan suddenly said, stilling his hand from where he was stroking Jihoon’s hair. “Do you see what I …?”
Soonyoung followed Jeonghan’s gaze and he swore he could feel his blood freeze in his veins. Not even the slightly bluish glow from the lightsticks could be the reason for what he noticed. Jihoon’s lips were blue.
Jihoon was suffocating in front of them. And all Soonyoung could think was: Please, don’t let me watch him…
💎
Soonyoung wasn’t forced to linger on the thought because finally - finally - there were footsteps and the medical team rushed on stage. Screams from fans followed them because now it was even more obvious that something was wrong. That Woozi wouldn’t get off the stage on his own.
A medic fell to her knees beside Soonyoung, her face tight and controlled in a way that let Soonyoung see that this was concerning her too.
“Jihoon-ssi?”, she asked, “can you hear me?”
Jihoon just gasped, trying to nod. He opened his mouth and only a faint, raspy sound came out. “... hurts …”
“I know. I know it hurts”, Jeonghan whispered, “you’ll be okay.”
“It’s good that he hurts”, the medic said firmly, “it means he feels everything and that he’s still responsive.” She turned to her colleagues. “We need to get him off stage immediately. Stretcher now, immobilise him. Oxygen too. He might have injured his lungs or his spine to a lesser degree.”
Somebody immediately handed her the oxygen mask that she fitted over Jihoon’s face. He didn’t fight her. Soonyoung wasn’t sure if it was because he understood he needed this or because he was too exhausted to protest.
The backboard of the stretcher was lowered beside him and carefully the medics transferred Jihoon onto it, making sure not to move him too suddenly. Soonyoung stayed by Jihoon’s head, whispering gentle comforts. He leaned closer, his face close to Jihoon’s, still protected from the rain by Jun and Wonwoo. “You’re going to be okay, Hoonie, you’re going to be okay. Medics are here. Your members are here. We’ve got you.”
Soonyoung felt his chest tighten as he watched the oxygen mask fogging up in quick, unsteady bursts. It was clear that even with the extra support Jihoon wasn’t getting all the air he needed.
“We’re gonna lift him now”, the medic ordered and Soonyoung moved just a bit out of the way. Jihoon instantly whimpered, eyes wide as he lost track of where Soonyoung was.
The moment they lifted the backboard onto the stretcher suddenly turned terrifying. For a moment Jihoon’s eyes became unfocused, then fluttered shut. “Jihoonie, no”, Soonyoung whispered, “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Don’t do this. You don’t want to fall asleep on stage, do you? That would be so embarrassing, don’t you think, huh?”
Another moment of stillness, only the faint sound of crying and shouting from the Carats below them, then Jihoon’s eyes opened a bit. “That’s better”, Soonyoung whispered.
“Let’s get off this awful stage”, the medic ordered. Soonyoung kept holding Jihoon’s hand while medics pushed the stretcher as fast as they could on the slippery ground. On both sides members walked with them, blocking the view. There wasn’t anything they could do to distract the fans now, so protecting Jihoon’s dignity was the highest priority. The moment they crossed onto the main stage, more staff swarmed them, swallowing them up in their midst.
With a glance back, Soonyoung followed them into the hallway behind the stage. Only Seungcheol and Joshua were left on the dark stage, speaking to panicked fans through their own fears.
💎
Backstage was no less chaotic. The hallways were long, small, the concrete walls making everything feel even more claustrophobic. Soonyoung constantly bumped into people but he couldn’t care less - all he was focused on was Jihoon who seemed to shrink into himself more and more.
“We’re taking him directly to the parking area”, the medic said to one of the managers rushing towards them. She checked the oxygen clip - Soonyoung had no idea what it was called - on Jihoon’s finger and frowned. “He isn’t getting enough air. And we can’t rule out any spinal injuries. He needs a hospital ten minutes ago.”
The manager nodded and fell into step with them.
“Soonyo…”, Jihoon whispered, his voice breaking on the second syllable. His breath caught and he let out a choking sound. Then a broken, wet-sounding cough was forced from his lips, fogging up the oxygen mask. But then Soonyoung noticed something else.
The mask had not only turned white but there was something … Soonyoung felt like he had been punched in the stomach when he realised what he was seeing. Pink, frothy spit covered the plastic. Blood. Jihoon was coughing up blood.
The younger member whimpered, the sound panicked. Then he coughed again, wetly, and more blood came up, causing Jihoon to let out a broken sob.
“Suction”, the medic ordered and removed the mask. The sudden speed at which she worked began to frighten Soonyoung. She turned Jihoon’s face to the side, wiping the spit from Jihoon’s mouth. Another medic handed her a suction tool which she held over Jihoon’s mouth. Instantly the tube filled with pinkish fluid. “Lung injury very possible”, she said in a clipped voice. Somebody else elevated the head part of the stretcher so that Jihoon was more upright but not bent.
It seemed like now they were rushing even faster. “Jihoonie”, Soonyoung whispered, his eyes locking with Jihoon’s that weren’t wide open in fear anymore but slowly began to lose their spark of life. They fluttered close for a moment. “No, no, don’t sleep. Don’t you dare sleep.”
Jihoon didn’t speak but his eyes reflected the fear and pain he felt enough.
The moment they stepped out into the parking space, rain hit them full force again. Instantly Soonyoung shivered. It was icy cold - something he hadn’t noticed while dancing and certainly not while Jihoon had lain crumpled on that horrible wet stage.
Jihoon whimpered again and Soonyoung lifted his hand he was still holding. It was paler than he had ever seen Jihoon’s hand and the areas around his nails were turning blue. Soonyoung wanted to pretend it was because of the cold and not because Jihoon was not getting enough air.
💎
Minutes passed like hours. Yet Soonyoung didn’t remember much of the ambulance ride - only how tightly Jihoon clutched his hand when they started driving with sirens howling and how loose his grip was by the end. He barely remembered anything of the arrival at the hospital but the fear in Jihoon’s eyes when he was wheeled into the emergency area where Soonyoung wasn’t allowed to follow, his empty hand reaching for Soonyoung’s. A nurse handing him a blanket.
Seungcheol and a manager had arrived after a while, Soonyoung couldn’t tell how long it had been. They had brought him clothes to change into and the moment he was dry and warm, Soonyoung had collapsed into Seungcheol’s chest, sobbing, his own composure breaking. He had seen the red around Seungcheol’s eyes and felt him trembling.
Soonyoung had no idea how long they had waited - he had just stared at his trembling hands, listened to the manager and Seungcheol arguing about the light and sound being cut too late in rushed tones - until a doctor finally stepped out to greet them, bowing respectfully.
“I’m Doctor Han”, he greeted, “I don’t need to ask, you’re here for Woozi-ssi. Let me assure you he will be fine.”
There was a choked sob behind him and Soonyoung reached out to squeeze Seungcheol’s hand. “How is he? What…?”, he stammered. “Is he awake?”
Doctor Han held up his hands to stop the flow of questions. “We did a CT and an X-ray scan of his chest, back, and head. He didn’t injure his spine - he is very lucky in that area. A fall like that could have caused great harm.”
Soonyoung felt relief flood him. He hadn’t even realised how worried he had been about a spinal injury on top of the blood and the breathing problems. Jihoon not being able to …
He didn’t want to think about it.
“However”, the doctor continued, “he suffered from a pulmonary contusion. Explained in short: A bruised lung. The impact of his back on the stage was bad enough to injure deep into the tissue. That’s why he has trouble breathing and coughed up blood.”
“You say he still has trouble breathing?”, Seungcheol asked.
“Yes. The injury is not a light one. He will need oxygen support for a few days at least until his stats are more satisfactory. His lung needs to heal. For that he will need to stay here for monitoring. Pulmonary injuries can worsen in the first 24-48 hours. Additionally, with the exposure to cold weather and rain, he has a higher risk for additional sickness like pneumonia.”
Soonyoung swallowed hard, this time feeling Seungcheol squeeze his hand back. “Can we see him?”, he asked, voice coming out more shakily than he had planned.
“He’s been asking for you”, Doctor Han replied. “Come with me.”
The doctor led them up to a private room in a quiet corridor, just a few nurses buzzing around. He pushed the door open at the end of the hall and said: “Jihoon-ssi? Your friends are here to see you. They’ve been waiting.”
💎
Soonyoung felt his legs tremble as he automatically took steps into the room. The elevated hospital bed was surrounded by big machines, beeping and blinking. Tubes snaked around and there was the slow drip on an IV stand. And there Jihoon was, tucked under a few blankets, face nearly the same color as the sheets, in the middle of it all.
The first thing Soonyoung noticed was the nasal cannula taped to Jihoon’s cheek, sneaking into his nose. It looked utterly wrong. Where the blanket had moved down a bit from Jihoon’s shoulders, there was a hospital gown visible - the wet stage outfit likely already disposed of. Like this Jihoon looked painfully fragile - not like a seasoned idol but a very sick and injured young man.
But then Jihoon’s eyes fluttered open, lashes and smeared stage make-up dark against pale skin, and their eyes met. There was deep exhaustion in Jihoon’s gaze, replacing the earlier fear.
“Soonyoung”, he whispered, his hand reaching out towards Soonyoung. The nail beds weren’t blue anymore and with a quick check towards his lips, Soonyoung realised those too had turned back to their normal pink.
Soonyoung hadn’t even noticed he had stopped in his tracks until Seungcheol pushed his shoulder. He stumbled towards Jihoon, not even bothering with the chair beside the bed, but instead sitting on the edge of the mattress.
“You scared the shit out of us, you idiot”, he mumbled before reaching down and, careful with Jihoon’s injury, gathered him in his arms. For once, Jihoon didn’t protest. In fact, he melted into the touch, especially when Seungcheol appeared at the other side of the bed and ran his fingers through Jihoon’s hair.
“Turns out I am the God of Music not the God of Weather”, Jihoon mumbled, coughing a bit. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“I am so going to beat you when you are better”, Seungcheol muttered, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s head. “Don’t you ever do that again. If anybody has the right to fall like that, it’s me.”
“Or Mingyu”, Soonyoung added, a choked laugh escaping. “You know you are way too graceful for that.”
Jihoon chuckled a bit, the sound slightly labored and wet. Soonyoung barely withstood the urge to flinch. “I did look graceful on the outside. I heard the inside is the problem.”
Both Seungcheol and Soonyoung went quiet, their laughter fading.
“Too soon?”, Jihoon asked, his smile fading when he realised they didn’t appreciate the joke. For now it hit too close to home. “Sorry.”
“I think we need a few years to recover from this”, Seungcheol said, his eyes filling with tears again, “I didn’t even see you fall. I just noticed how everybody stopped dancing and then heard Soonyoung telling you to breathe echoing over the loudspeakers. I don’t ever want to stand on a stage again, having to calm down fans while one of you was unable to breathe and I didn’t know if …”
His voice broke.
“I’m okay, hyung”, Jihoon said, reaching up weakly. Seungcheol caught his hand in his bigger one. “Or I will be. Really.”
“You will be”, Soonyoung agreed. “But … honestly, I don’t know if I have ever been this scared before in my entire life. You couldn’t breathe and then spat up blood. For a while we even worried you injured your spine. And you aren’t out of the trenches completely.”
Jihoon nodded, the movement slow as if it was exhausting him. “Are you hurting?", Soonyoung asked.
“A bit”, Jihoon admitted. “But I think I may also be very high.”
“Likely”, Seungcheol agreed. “You should rest.”
Jihoon yawned just at that moment, eyes falling shut. His head lolled a bit before coming to rest against the pillow behind him.
“Sleep, Jihoonie”, Soonyoung mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. Jihoon was asleep when he pulled back.
Neither Soonyoung nor Seungcheol let go of him for a while, just listened to the sound of Jihoon’s breathing.
Notes: The beginning of this has sat in my drafts for a literal year at least. I am so happy I finally finished it! I am on vacation (okay, long weekend retreat) and I am pretty proud about two fics in two days. At least some action on this blog and I really hope you like this!
I really don't always want to post just Woozi content but he is my ult bias and I really struggle with writing anyways currently, so I decided to just ignore that my mind is telling me to do more diverse stories.
Masterlist links:
Fairy's Full Masterlist
Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN
I've been caught up in work and life and just now having an opportunity to express my appreciation towards your writing! Love reading all your fics, especially grateful for your Ateez and The Rose fics <3
What I'm looking for in this kind of fics is the comfort and you write it so heartwarmingly. Thank you! Good luck with moving out and everything you've got going on!
As for the ask, do you have a favorite book? If yes, which one?
And the second question, what are some paragraphs or lines you love from books that are related in some way to what you write? Such as comforting scenes or when someone gets injured and is taken care of (If you have saved any)
Warm wishes <3
Moni🌷
Hey Moni,
I am so sorry. I only just now saw your ask and yeah... it's been a few months...
Thank you so much for your kind words! You really made my day!
I wouldn't say I have a favorite book. Lately (okay, the past years) I barely have been reading except for fanfics because I find it really hard to get used to new characters and stuff. I do enjoy the Shadowhunter series a lot though (eventhough now I am older than the characters and question how babies did all that?) especially anything Alec/Magnus and the Clockwork trilogy.
What I recall now from memory are some scenes that i remember reading but it's more about the vibe and less the exact words.
FUCK JKR but Harry waking up from dreaming about Nagini attacking Mr. Weasley and vomiting in the dorm, causing the worried students to get Professor McGonagall -> the whole "getting the teacher" trope is just great
again from the Shadowhunter series (City of Angels) when Alec, Izzy and Jace find out that Max was killed and them breaking down
the whole Clockwork Series with Jem being constantly sick and Will and Tessa taking care of him and Will for once not being an asshole but really kind and caring, plus later when Will feels Jem dying him being really sick at the inn
Honestly, I really can't recall much more but I hope this still answers your asks a bit.
Summary: Sometimes they forgot that besides being the vocal boss and producer, Jihoon was their middle child. But when he is sick it becomes obvious that he is the maknae of the hyung line.
“Shhh”, Jeonghan whispered as Seungcheol stepped back into the living room, balancing a tray with cups of tea and dry toast. “I think he fell asleep, finally.”
Seungcheol carefully put down the tray on the TV table and peeked over, leaning in a way that Jeonghan couldn’t, trapped as he was under warm, sleepy, sick younger member. Dark lashes brushed a pale, round face that finally looked peaceful for the first time that day. Except maybe for the flush on his cheeks, an indication of the low-grade fever.
“Yeah, he’s out”, Seungcheol replied quietly and tucked the blanket higher so it fell over Jeonghan and his precious bundle. Then he brushed black, sweaty hair from a warm forehead as he sat down on the floor beside the sofa. He winced a bit as his knee bent but it was much better than it had been earlier.
“He’s so different when he’s sick”, Jeonghan mumbled after a moment, “normally he is so fierce and grumpy, now look at him. He’s still clinging to me, even in sleep.”
Seungcheol chuckled. “He always did that, even back when he was a trainee. I remember how he got sick shortly after coming to the company, all sharp knees and tongue, tiny but a force to be reckoned with. The NU’EST trainees loved him but he hated how they fussed over him. Until he threw up in the car and clung to Eunji-noona for the next day. He didn’t let go once, I think she had to beg him to let go so she could use the bathroom. She was the first to call him her Jihoonie. After that it stuck.”
“It fits”, Jeonghan replied. “Look how cute he is. All curled up. I mean, normally he is tiny but this is … I didn’t think an adult man could be this small.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll kill you.”
“Nah, I am his pillow. He loves me.”
“Two things can be true at the same time”, Seungcheol said and turned back to the tray he had brought. “Do you want your tea? After all, you didn’t get to finish yours this morning.”
💎
The morning had been quiet, calm. They had had a long schedule until late in the night the previous day and so their management had moved practice into the afternoon so they could sleep in and rest. By eleven in the morning only Seungcheol and Jeonghan had been awake, sitting in the kitchen and sipping hot tea while trying not to burn their tongues. Jeonghan had been thinking about his upcoming enlistment and as the days grew closer he slept less, trying to spend as much time with them as he could. Seungcheol had woken to a deep ache in his knee that had been mostly fixed with the good painkillers.
The rest of the group had stayed asleep or at least they hadn’t appeared despite the invitation in the group chat to join them in the Jeonghan/Hoshi/Woozi/Seungkwan dorm.
But then Jihoon had stumbled into the kitchen, hair a mess, barefoot and eyes barely open.
Jeonghan had lovingly laughed at their “mess of a producer” and told him to sit while he fixed Jihoon something. Jihoon hadn’t even protested, just mumbled a thanks and sat down on Jeonghan’s vacated chair, letting his head fall onto the table.
Seungcheol had felt the first tightening of worry then. “Are you feeling okay?”, he had asked, measuring Jihoon’s exhausted form. He seemed to be sweating but he was also shivering as if he was cold.
“Hm”, Jihoon had replied, swallowing. “Tired, but when am I not? Kinda hungry though, I think.”
“Scrambled eggs coming right up”, Jeonghan had teased. “Should I use coffee instead of milk for them, maybe?” Jihoon hadn’t dignified that with an answer.
Five minutes later Jeonghan placed the eggs in front of Jihoon, taking his cup of tea and moving to sit across from them. The eggs smelled amazing and Seungcheol had slightly regretted not bullying Jeonghan into making him a portion too. (He already had had some breakfast but it had really looked good. The whites of the eggs were perfectly done with the yellow parts still liquid and delicious.)
Jihoon had thanked Jeonghan again and slowly began eating. Seungcheol had been about to open his mouth and try his luck in asking Jeonghan when Jihoon made a weird sound. He ended up coughing a bit, as if he had swallowed wrong. Seungcheol had reached over and patted his back while Jeonghan slid over his cup of tea in case Jihoon needed to drink something.
But instead of drinking or being able to stop coughing, Jihoon had coughed harder. The sound had been weirdly wet and choking. Seungcheol had realised a second too late what was happening.
With a choked retch, Jihoon had doubled over. The egg came back up, spilling from Jihoon’s lips down his shirt and into his lap.
“Shit”, Jeonghan had cursed. Seungcheol had nstinctively pulled Jihoon’s chair away from the table so the next wave of vomit landed between Jihoon’s dangling feet on the floor. It clearly wasn’t a case of choking on food anymore - rather something more violent. More stomach contents had come up, turning spitting up into real throwing up. Seungcheol had patted Jihoon’s back carefully, making sure he didn’t topple over. Jeonghan grabbed a bucket and a mop.
Jihoon had teared up when he was done, unusual for him but he was tired and feeling awful, overwhelmed. “My stomach had felt weird but I thought I was just hungry”, he had said.
They had cleaned him up, put him on the couch, a bucket close by. They had informed the group chat and told them to go practice without the three of them. Seungcheol knew he probably shouldn’t dance when his knee hurt this way and Jeonghan had quickly been demoted to Jihoon’s pillow. One picture later and management had agreed to let all three of them stay home. Followed by a heart-eyed emoji.
💎
“Yes, please”, Jeonghan replied. “How is your knee?”
“I’m okay”, Seungcheol said, noticing how Jeonghan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Truly. It was bad this morning and it’s a bit stiff but not really painful anymore. I’m more worried about Jihoonie.”
Said younger member seemed to be aware they spoke about him, even in sleep. He muttered something unintelligible and instantly both hyungs held their breaths. But Jihoon didn’t wake. He just shifted a little closer to Jeonghan’s chest, turning his face the other direction against Jeonghan’s heart and snuggled back in. A slight snore escaped him, something that seldom happened. Normally he was a rather quiet sleeper, flat on his back. Maybe the position changed his breathing enough to allow the quiet, peaceful sound.
But as he moved his knees, he trapped Jeonghan’s right hand, pinning them between his thighs and Jeonghan’s side. Jeonghan chuckled softly and patted Jihoon’s hair with his left hand.
“Maybe no tea”, he said. “If he moves while I hold it with my left like this, I’ll spill it on him. But can you hand me my phone? It pinged earlier and I want to turn it off before it wakes him.”
Seungcheol reached towards the abandoned device and lifted it. As the lock screen lit up he caught a glimpse of some weverse notifications as well as a message that probably was the culprit that Jeonghan meant.
Joshujiiii <3 (15:17): How is Jihoonie?
“Shua wants to know how Jihoon is doing”, Seungcheol said. “Should I …?”
He trailed off, instead taking a few sips of his own cooling tea.
“If he kills me for calling him tiny he will definitely kill you if you take a picture now”, Jeonghan reasoned. “So please do it quickly, I want to see it before my premature death by the hands of a five foot gremlin.”
Seungcheol put down his cup and checked about five times if the sound and the flash were off before he dared taking a picture and sending it to Joshua, completely forgetting the fact that he wasn’t even using his own phone. Well, that happened if you were so close. You knew each other’s passwords anyway.
Joshua replied with a cat and a baby emoji, causing Seungcheol to nearly spit out his next sip of tea.
It fit perfectly. Jihoon truly had something catlike about him. Tiny, sharp attitude, unafraid to scratch when needed but also very sweet when he wanted to be. Curled up on Jeonghan’s lap, face lax in sleep as he recovered his strength, he was truly the maknae of the hyung line.
Sometimes they forgot that besides being the vocal boss and producer, Jihoon was their middle child. In fact, he was closer in age to Seokmin who was only two months younger than him than to Wonwoo who was four months older than him. If there hadn’t been a year change between Jihoon’s and Seokmin’s birthdays then Jihoon would probably have been counted to the maknae line.
But now, he undeniably had something babyish about him - even if nobody would dare say it to him.
Seungcheol showed Jeonghan the phone screen, causing Jeonghan to chuckle. “At least Shua will die with us. Think Jun will be a good leader?”
💎
Seungcheol didn’t have time to contemplate the answer (though his heart screamed No. None of the younger members should have to bear that burden.) because Jihoon mumbled something under his breath and then opened his eyes. He must have woken from the laughter that had escaped Jeonghan.
“Huh?”, he whispered, voice a bit rough. “Hyung?”
“Hey, Jihoonie”, Jeonghan greeted, smoothing down Jihoon’s hair gently. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”
Jihoon yawned widely and then blinked as if he fought against his closing eyes.
“‘m thirsty”, he mumbled. “Can I have something to drink?”
He was adorably out of it. Seungcheol hummed and shifted, reaching for the tray. Clumsy as he was, he managed to bump one of the cups with his elbow. Luckily it only spilled on the plastic tray and not everywhere else. And it was just plain mint tea so it wasn’t even sticky. Still Seungcheol cursed, quickly rescuing the other cup and drying it off with a tissue before handing it to Jeonghan.
Meanwhile Jeonghan had propped Jihoon up on his lap a bit, freeing his trapped hand. Gently he tilted the cup to Jihoon’s lips, helping him take a few sips. “Drink slowly even if you’re thirsty”, he admonished with a soft voice, “your stomach might still be off.”
As if it was listening, Jihoon’s stomach grumbled audibly and Jihoon pressed a hand to it, swallowing harshly.
“You okay?”, Seungcheol asked, hand already hovering preemptively by the trash can they had brought for these occasions.
Jihoon swallowed again and shook his head. “Dunno.”
“That’s okay, come on, sit up a bit”, Jeonghan said, patting Jihoon’s hip and helping him sit more upright, sliding Jihoon off his lap but keeping an arm around him. Seungcheol handed them the trash can, pushing himself up with the table so he could sit on Jihoon’s other side. He put the cup back onto the table and then within seconds of sitting properly a heavy, exhausted head landed against his shoulder. Jihoon wasn’t tall enough to comfortably rest his head on Seungcheol's shoulder, so it was more on his upper arm.
For a while they just sat like that. Jeonghan kept balancing the bucket on Jihoon’s lap, making sure it was accessible if Jihoon needed it. Seungcheol ran his hand up and down Jihoon’s back while Jihoon clearly fought the nausea.
When it was too much to fight against and it all came back up, they were ready. Seungcheol held Jihoon’s hair and Jeonghan whispered comforting words as sips of tea, rests of partially digested dinner and bile spilled from Jihoon’s lips into the receptacle. It was nearly silent, just small gags that clearly stole all of Jihoon’s strength again. Mouthfuls came up, nearly slow, not rushed like earlier but still clearly very unpleasant.
💎
By the time it was done, Jihoon was slumped into Seungcheol’s side, eyes closed and spit and bile dangling from his lips. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to Jihoon’s slightly warm forehead. Jeonghan reached for a tissue and wiped Jihoon’s mouth before throwing it onto the tray where it immediately soaked up more spilled tea.
“I’m gonna go wash out the bucket”, Jeonghan mumbled when it was clear Jihoon was closer to falling asleep than throwing up. “Thanks”, Seungcheol mumbled. Jeonghan had always been better at dealing with the disgusting aftermath.
“Hey, our Jihoonie”, he whispered as Jihoon’s head grew heavy with tendrils of sleep. “I promise you can keep sleeping. But I want to take your temperature again, okay?”
Jihoon mumbled something that might have been a confirmation. Seungcheol let Jihoon rest his head against his chest while he held the thermometer steady under Jihoon’s tongue. It was nearly a wonder Jihoon hadn’t gagged at that but maybe it was because he was too tired. The long schedule of the previous day and the sickness were really kicking his ass.
When it beeped in a hurried tone, Seungcheol sighed. 37.6°C. Somewhere in the range between an elevated temperature and a fever. Sometimes Seungcheol wondered why he knew this so well but that’s probably what happened when you took care of your younger brothers for ten years. He knew for Jihoon the range between elevated temperature and fever was a blur but he instantly got tired when his temperature was higher than 37°C. For the others it was different - for example Minghao only had what would be a fever if he reached 38°C but then he was down bad while Seungkwan already felt unwell when he reached anything higher than 37°C.
“Sleep, baby”, he mumbled, helping Jihoon lie down properly now, head tucked into Seungcheol’s lap, blanket pulled up to his shoulders.
💎
Five minutes later when Jeonghan returned, Jihoon was completely out, snoring softly. He set down the bucket close by and sighed as he looked at the tray of spilled tea and soaked tissue, then looked back at Seungcheol who was trapped under Jihoon’s sleeping body.
Seungcheol raised his hands in innocence, in one his own half-drank cup. “If you want some tea, you could make yourself a new one. I wouldn’t drink the germ pool of Jihoon’s leftovers if you don’t want to end up with your head in the toilet and yours spilled, so…”
Masterlist links:
Fairy's Full Masterlist
Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN
I absolutely love your fics and I am always waiting for new fics from you! 🤍
I have an idea, feel free to ignore it if you don't want to write it.
During his trainee time, Jun was kinda harassed by the staff. Sometimes even physically. Seungkwan accidentally triggers the traumatic memories and doesn't know what to do as Jun gets more and more worked up, to the point he's basically passed out. He calls Seungcheol but he neither doesn't understand what's happening until Minghao steps in and tell them.
Hey there;)
Thank you so much for your ask!
However i won't be able to write it as I don't like writing about (physical) abuse by management. I hope you find somebody else who might write this for you!
I've been caught up in work and life and just now having an opportunity to express my appreciation towards your writing! Love reading all your fics, especially grateful for your Ateez and The Rose fics <3
What I'm looking for in this kind of fics is the comfort and you write it so heartwarmingly. Thank you! Good luck with moving out and everything you've got going on!
As for the ask, do you have a favorite book? If yes, which one?
And the second question, what are some paragraphs or lines you love from books that are related in some way to what you write? Such as comforting scenes or when someone gets injured and is taken care of (If you have saved any)
Warm wishes <3
Moni🌷
Hey Moni,
I am so sorry. I only just now saw your ask and yeah... it's been a few months...
Thank you so much for your kind words! You really made my day!
I wouldn't say I have a favorite book. Lately (okay, the past years) I barely have been reading except for fanfics because I find it really hard to get used to new characters and stuff. I do enjoy the Shadowhunter series a lot though (eventhough now I am older than the characters and question how babies did all that?) especially anything Alec/Magnus and the Clockwork trilogy.
What I recall now from memory are some scenes that i remember reading but it's more about the vibe and less the exact words.
FUCK JKR but Harry waking up from dreaming about Nagini attacking Mr. Weasley and vomiting in the dorm, causing the worried students to get Professor McGonagall -> the whole "getting the teacher" trope is just great
again from the Shadowhunter series (City of Angels) when Alec, Izzy and Jace find out that Max was killed and them breaking down
the whole Clockwork Series with Jem being constantly sick and Will and Tessa taking care of him and Will for once not being an asshole but really kind and caring, plus later when Will feels Jem dying him being really sick at the inn
Honestly, I really can't recall much more but I hope this still answers your asks a bit.
Summary: Dojoon has been working himself to the ground while sick. He’s exhausted and lonely.
CW: Angst, blood
Sickie: Dojoon/Leo
Caretaker: /
“Don’t care about what …”
“Don’t care about what you say…”
“Don’t care…”
“Don’t care about what you say, about what you say…”
“Don’t care about what you say, about what you do, I don’t care…”
Dojoon yelled in frustration, a low sound in his throat. They had written the lyrics themselves and still they managed to confuse him. He knew they weren’t well known for knowing their own lyrics but this bordered on too difficult. Dojoon loved the song, he did. He just hated the confusing, repetitive but changing lyrics.
His head ached and his eyes burned. His fingers were slightly bleeding from strumming his guitar repeatedly, playing the same five notes over and over again. His throat felt hoarse. And he was so so tired.
With another frustrated yell, Dojoon sank onto the floor, lifting the guitar strap over his head and angrily, carelessly pushed the instrument away.
It was way past midnight but he was still up, trying to get the notes and lyrics into his head. Another coughing fit overtook him. It had been happening a lot that day, his voice cracking and his throat feeling inflamed in a way that didn’t mean he had overused it. Or at least that wasn’t the sole reason.
The other members had long since gone to bed. Hajoon had passed Dojoon his head cold and he was still sleeping a lot. Taegyeom had everything down on his bass already. Woosung was out, Dojoon thought, something with Suga?
That left Dojoon with enough privacy to not get nagged into resting and to have a proper breakdown over the new album. He truly enjoyed creating WRLD and it had some of his favorite songs yet. But new songs always meant new stuff to learn and try out. The others had it easy. Hajoon just had his drums and the weird egg things he called rattles. Taegyeom had his bass and the guitar. Woosung just had the guitar and well, lyrics but nobody expected Woosung to be very confident in that area.
Dojoon on the other hand had around five or six instruments for this tour he had to learn and figure out when to swap them and when actually to play what.
Sometimes he really regretted his choices of being the one playing everything. He knew he was good and that was why but it took time to get good. He wasn’t there yet. He wasn’t sure if he could come close to it anytime soon.
His eyes burned and his throat closed up. There was a pressure in his head he didn’t like at all. Tears slipped down his face without permission, hot and sticky on his cheeks. He angrily wiped them away but more fell. A sob broke from his throat and he couldn’t help it.
It was all too much and he was so overwhelmed, so drained.
He lifted his legs to his chest, pressing his face into his knees and rocking back and forth, trying to calm himself down. Trying to get himself together. But his mind had other ideas. He couldn’t stop the flood of doubt encasing his mind and heart.
All he wanted was somebody to come and sit with him. He loved his members and how he longed to have at least one of them with him. Hajoon’s strong arms, Woosung stroking his hair, Taegyeom saying nice things. He would give so much to have one of them with him.
But he was alone.
And that hurt the most.
Because they - no matter how close they were - couldn’t understand his struggle. They had it easy, compared to him. It felt wrong to say it, to undermine their hours of practice, but they simply didn’t align with his reality.
Dojoon was known as the goof-ball. The funny one but reliable at the same time. The hyung despite Woosung technically being older. He was the one who was loud on and off stage and everybody knew him as the extroverted one. The multi-talent.
He wasn’t this version. The one crying on the floor exhausted - he was the comforter when it hit one of the others. Taegyeom and his depression. Woosung and his intrusive thoughts of overeating or not eating enough. Hajoon and his struggles to not overdrink.
And Dojoon did his best to pretend for them even though he knew he had the best safety net in them. He was just too scared to let himself fall.
And how he longed to let himself be brave enough to fall.
And as he gathered strength many silent hours later to get up again, limbs stiff from the cold floor, wiping his tear-streaked cheeks, he felt the blood from his injured fingers warm on his face.
Summary: Minho felt better. He truly did. Until he couldn’t really hear Chan talking to him.
CW: mentions of hospitals, mentions of IVs
Sickie: Minho
Caretaker: Bang Chan + I.N./Jeongin
To be honest, Minho was surprised by how okay he felt. The previous day had been a horror show to him, the fever, the coughing, the stuffed nose. Even the night had been a hassle - Bang Chan had made him sleep in his bed in the dorm Chan and Jeongin shared, switching between checking on Minho and Jeongin, who was still feeling queasy but had slept through the night.
That morning when he woke up Minho really felt good. His fever was completely gone. His throat didn’t hurt anymore, and the coughing and stuffed nose were both gone too. It felt like a miracle healing.
He turned his head to look at the alarm clock Chan had on his nightstand - it was close to 12pm. He had clearly needed that sleep and it seemed to have helped a lot. His leader was nowhere to be seen, so Minho decided to get up. He definitely needed to wash up, brush his teeth and maybe eat something.
The dancer walked across the hallway to the bathroom where he relieved himself and washed up. Every member even had toothbrushes stored at the other dorms so he could brush his teeth - a real luxury in his opinion. His mouth tasted like death after such a long sleep.
He made his way towards the kitchen, almost marveling at how easy it felt considering yesterday every step had felt like climbing up the steepest mountain. In the kitchen he found his two hosts - Chan was sitting on a chair, downing a cup of coffee while watching and chatting lightly with Jeongin who was slowly eating some bland porridge.
“Oh, hyung lives”, Jeongin greeted quietly with a cheeky smile - mostly recuperated - and a wave.
Chan got up and rushed over, gently taking Minho’s arm and leading him to sit on the chair he had abandoned.
“How are you feeling? Do you feel up to eating?”, Chan asked.
The words registered mostly in Minho’s brain but he was distracted by something else. It was kind of difficult to hear Chan - in fact it sounded like he was underwater. Curious. While he had thought himself healed, maybe his ears were still affected.
“I could eat”, Minho said and swallowed. He probably should tell Chan his ears felt weird - after all he relied on the organ for singing and dancing, his whole life.
He turned around to face Chan who was already at the stove and scooping porridge into a bowl. “Hyung, I was about to say I feel fine but uhm, it’s kind of hard to hear you.”
He saw that Chan’s mouth moved, he was speaking, but whatever he said was overlaid by Jeongin’s exclamation of “Oh no, hyung!”.
Minho frowned. “Could you repeat yourself?”
“Does your ear hurt or how does it feel?”, Chan asked but again his voice sounded distant, barely there. He put down the bowl, frowning.
“It’s … I dunno? Like I have water in my ear?”, Minho tried to explain and turned around fully on his chair. “It’s not really pain but … I can hear I.N-ah just fine but it’s hard to hear you.”
“Maybe it’s the pitch?”, the maknae asked, but now his voice was thready.
“I think… I think it’s my right ear”, Minho said, starting to feel really worried. “I was able to hear you just fine earlier, maknae, but now that I turned … hyung, say something!”
“I guess it could be an ear infection”, Chan said, his voice mostly clear. “Is this better?”
Minho nodded.
“Okay, well, how about you eat up and we go see a doctor?”, Chan said.
“I don’t think … I feel fine otherwise, hyung. I just can’t hear properly. We don’t need to bother the doctors with that.”
Chan came closer, his hand resting on Minho’s shoulder. “You really feel fine, except the ear?”
“Yeah. Nothing feels bad. I could probably dance…”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves”, Chan stopped him with a smile. “Not going to the doctor is one thing. Dancing is another.” He lifted his hand to feel Minho’s forehead, cheeks and neck. Then his lymph nodes. Minho let him do as he pleased, knowing he’d never get out of it anyways. “You don’t have a fever. I still want you to rest and take it easy today.”
🧭
Five hours later Minho regretted his early words. He did not feel fine. He didn’t know when it had crept in but somehow the fullness in his ear had turned into pressure and pain. He still didn’t feel feverish again but this was actually worse. Half his world was silent or distorted and full of pain. The other half was just exhausted and annoyed. His ear pulsed with pain and he wanted it to stop.
Jeongin - also confined to the apartment for that day - had put on the TV as a distraction from boredom earlier. It was an action movie but Minho couldn’t follow the plot. While the voices of the actors were mostly too quiet to hear, the sounds of the special effects were too loud, drawing out everything. It didn’t seem to bother the maknae but Minho just wanted it to stop.
His ear pulsed again, feeling warm and hot. It was unbearable.
Minho stumbled to his feet, not sure if Jeongin said anything to him or not, but he made his way to the hallway. Chan was in his room working - occasionally coming to check on them but mostly deep into 3Racha things. Minho hated to disturb him, but he couldn’t endure anymore.
He knocked on the door but he didn’t receive an invitation. He hesitated - what if Chan was doing something really important or was on a video call or something. But then the door opened and Chan stood in the doorway.
“Hey, didn’t you hear my invitation to come in?”, he asked gently. Minho shook his head and without meaning to, he took a step towards his hyung, lifting his arms. Instantly Chan wrapped himself around him, pulling him close in that hug they all loved no matter how much they pretended they didn’t.
He pressed his face into Chan’s chest for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he pulled away for a bit and looked at Chan. “Hyung, I think I should go to the doctor.”
🧭
Half an hour later Chan led him through the hallway of the company to the medical center of JYP where idols were treated for various illnesses and injuries. The security needed for most idols for a hospital or doctor’s visit was way more expensive and hassle-filled than a doctor and nurses working for the company.
By now Minho felt really miserable. His ear ached constantly and he could barely concentrate on anything but the pain. He relied on Chan guiding him by the small of his back, too tired to actually have any idea where exactly they were going.
Once they reached the medical center a nurse and a doctor appeared in front of them, greeting them politely. They were guided into an exam room and Minho gratefully sank onto the exam table, relieved he didn’t have to stand any longer.
“How are you feeling, Minho-ssi?”, the doctor asked, already reaching for a temperature gun.
“Awful”, Minho mumbled, his own voice sounding weird. “My ear really hurts and I just don’t feel well.”
“Slightly elevated but no fever”, the doctor said, clicking her tongue. "Let's look into your ear.”
She reached for the weird thing doctors used to check ears. Minho had no idea what it was called and he honestly couldn’t care less. The pressure of the device felt bad in his inner ear.
“Oh, wow”, the doctor said sympathetically, “oh, wow. Your ear is really inflamed. Are you dizzy or anything? This looks pretty bad.”
Minho winced. That was exactly what you wanted to hear from your doctor. Chan, who until then had stood to the side, stepped closer and squeezed Minho’s shoulder.
“No dizziness, just a bit wavy”, Minho replied. “But the drive was kind of really bad. Like I wasn’t moving how I was supposed to.”
“Yeah, that’s common”, the doctor said and then turned to the nurse.
“Please run to the pharmacy across the street. I know they are already closing but we need antibiotics and pain meds. He can’t wait until tomorrow.”
The nurse nodded and vanished.
The doctor sighed as she turned back to Minho. “Your ear is really inflamed and it won’t get better without a general antibiotic. Take one before you go to bed and then every eight hours. Always eat a bit with it because otherwise it might upset your stomach. Take the pain meds as needed but be careful to keep to the dosage. Do you have infra-red lamps? Those usually help with the pain.”
“Uh yeah”, Chan said. “Is there anything else we should be worried about?”
“Well, I can’t tell how this will progress but there is a risk of the eardrum rupturing. I’d like to come by your dorm tomorrow morning so we can take some blood just to monitor you. Sober, please.”
🧭
Somewhere between that and getting home Minho’s memories got fuzzy. He vaguely remembered eating and taking the meds with Jeongin fussing and then passing out.
It was the next morning that he really was aware again and he regretted it. If possible he felt even worse. His ear felt … wet. When he reached up to touch it, there was some fluid sticking to his fingers. He grimaced and wiped it on the underside of the pillow. Chan’s pillow. Oh, he was still in the wrong dorm.
Needing to use the bathroom, Minho pushed himself up. It was a bad idea. Everything suddenly spun around him. He grabbed the wall to steady himself, nearly falling back onto the bed. This felt so bad. He couldn’t remember the last time he had vertigo this badly.
But he really needed to go. He took a shaky step forward, then another. He managed but it was hard. He had to really focus on walking straight and it took a lot of coordination and strength he was already seriously lacking. By the time he reached the door to the hallway, his knees were trembling a bit. Luckily he could hold onto the wall of the hallway and then the appliances in the bathroom so he had some balance left.
As he stepped out of the bathroom he met Jeongin. The maknae looked way better than he had in the past days and he smiled brightly at Minho before noticing his state. “Hyung? Are you okay?”, he asked, reaching for Minho’s arm instantly. His voice barely registered.
Minho shook his head and his whole world tilted. He took a deep breath before answering. “Dizzy.”
That was when Chan appeared, always there at the right time. “Let’s sit you down, Lino”, he said gently, “it’s just a few steps to the couch. Then you can lie down again. The doctor should be here soon for that blood draw and then you can eat a bit. Should help your blood sugar if anything.”
Minho stumbled behind Chan, letting himself be led and then guided down on the couch. Chan knelt down beside him and stroked his hair back. “Innie, go get him some water, will you?”
The doctor indeed arrived soon after. She greeted him gently and looked into his ear again. Minho mumbled about the fluid he had felt.
The doctor sighed. “That’s what I feared. Your eardrum burst. You likely didn’t feel it because you were asleep. You should be glad, it can be really painful.”
Minho froze. Burst was such a violent word for something that had happened while he slept. He hadn’t even felt it happen. But it explained so much. The even more reduced hearing. The Vertigo. The fluid. The general feeling of bah. Still the idea was a bit creepy.
“Is there anything we can do to help?”, Chan asked, his hand still stroking Minho’s hair.
“No. Eardrums heal on their own. He should rest a lot, especially if the vertigo is bad. Eat, drink, sleep. Definitely no sports. No dancing and I mean it. No headphones. Try the infra-red lamps.”
🧭
The blood draw felt like a dream. Not nice but certainly not like a nightmare either. Just floaty. But Minho was really done with that day already when the doctor finished. She had needed a few tries because his veins weren’t great on good days and this certainly didn’t classify as a good day. It had hurt but he had been too exhausted to really register it.
The day passed in a quiet atmosphere. Jeongin went to the Felix/Seungmin dorm after a while, saying they wanted to game together. Chan sat on the armchair across from the sofa, mostly working but occasionally looking up to watch Minho. Minho himself dozed on and off, the infra-red lamp shining into his ear actually helping a lot.
It was around late noon when the restlessness hit. Minho did feel better after laying down and napping so much and he didn’t feel like being confined to the couch the whole day. He was an active person by nature and this sucked.
But the moment he sat up, everything slammed back into him. The vertigo nearly knocked him flat back onto his back. It felt awful, dizzying. Just really unsteady. He moaned without meaning to, pressing his head into his hands.
“No”, Minho mumbled. “No, I just… I felt better laying down. Good actually. I am bored. But the moment I sat up everything started spinning again.”
“Your eardrum burst, kiddo”, Chan said sympathetically. “Of course you’ll feel better laying flat. You need rest.”
“I am bored”, Minho repeated himself, ignoring that his voice bordered on a whine.
He hated this. This wasn’t him. Laying down he was fine. Not stimulated enough for feeling that good. But anything involving movement made his head think he was on a carousel. It was unfair.
Chan, the bastard, laughed.
“How about …?” Halfway through his sentence he turned his head away, gesturing.
“Huh?”, Minho asked. It had already been hard hearing Chan but when he spoke into the wrong direction his voice was completely lost to Minho’s ears.
“Sorry”, Chan apologized, turning back. “Wanna watch a movie?”
“I can’t hear the movie.”
“With subtitles?”
“I don’t know if I can tolerate a moving screen”, Minho mumbled dejectedly.
“Alright, uhm, how about we …?” Chan trailed off, clearly having no idea what else to suggest.
“I’m going to lose my mind just sitting around”, Minho complained. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“I am afraid you are already insane, so don’t worry your pretty little head”, his hyung replied with a chuckle. “So how about we lie back down and nap and actually get better?”
Minho grumbled but he had to admit laying back down felt much better.
🧭
Days passed with Minho’s hearing barely getting better. He hated it, knowing it could take weeks for an eardrum to heal. But it was annoying. Everybody constantly forgot and had to repeat themselves. He himself had to turn his head into weird positions when somebody spoke from the wrong side. Any conversation with more than two people turned into a blend of noises he couldn't distinguish.
It was, plainly said, horrible.
But at least Minho didn’t actually have to listen to his members. And if he pretended he didn’t hear them when he actually did for once, occasionally, when they were annoying … nobody had to know.
Notes: I had a middle ear infection just like this last March and I am telling you, it was awful. I technically had a youth event I had to lead, my very first own thing. And I nearly had to cancel it. The youth leaders did beautifully without me, I heard though.
But the panic on Friday (so just after I heard from my doctor my eardrum burst) when a teenager who was supposed to help said he had the stomach flu and couldn’t help… so I ended up going on Friday anyway and it was horrible. I could barely help or hear. And then laying around on my bed on Saturday and Sunday feeling okayish until I stood up was pure guilt. 0/10 would not recommend.
Summary: The stomach bug had passed but Hongjoong still doesn’t feel great. Jongho takes care of him.
CW: mentions of emeto, mentions of fainting
Sickie: Hongjoong
Caretaker: Jongho
“Hyung, do you want me to heat up the porridge Wooyoungie-hyung made?”, Jongho asked, popping into the living room with a concerned face.
Hongjoong, pale and exhausted on the couch, shook his head. “No, thank you, Jjongie. I don’t want to eat.”
Jongho sighed and stepped closer, sitting on the low TV table across from Hongjoong. He loved little rebellions like that, ever since they didn’t live under Seonghwa’s terror regime of cleanliness and order anymore. “You should though. I know you still don’t feel great but you haven’t really eaten in days.”
“I know”, Hongjoong replied. “I just … I don’t feel like eating yet. I’m sorry. I know you are worried.”
It had been nearly a week since Hongjoong had come down with a bad case of the stomach flu. While the vomiting had passed four days ago, their captain very much wasn’t well yet. He still didn’t have an appetite and his hands were shaky. Most of his day was spent sleeping, restful, yes, but apparently not enough to bring him back onto track completely. And he was bored enough to be annoyed at everybody but not well enough to actually do more than lie around.
“Damn right I am”, Jongho said. “You haven’t yet eaten today. It’s nearly 3pm. This is not how you get better. You’re dehydrated, malnourished and have low blood sugar. You’ll just feel worse if you keep not eating.”
Hongjoong nodded, pulling his feet up onto the couch. “I still feel like throwing up just seeing food.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t puked in four days, hyung. It’s pretty safe to say the bug has passed. You’re just running on empty and that’s why you feel bad. You don’t even have to eat much, okay? I’ll make half the porridge, just add some extra sugar, and you eat as much as you can.”
“I … alright. Fine.”
⌛
Five minutes later Jongho sat beside Hongjoong on the couch, holding out a tablet packed with a half-full bowl of porridge, ginger tea and a glass of water. With shaking hands Hongjoong placed it onto his lap, balancing it carefully.
“I can’t believe my maknae is bossing me around”, he mumbled.
Jongho grinned. “I won’t tell ATINY as long as I get bragging rights to Seonghwa-hyung for the rest of my life.”
“You’re a menace.”
“You’re welcome. After all, I am taking care of your ass.” Jongho sounded way too pleased with himself.
“Oh, shut up.”
“It’s eat up”, Jongho shot back.
“Eat up, hyung.”
“Fine”, Jongho said, laughing. “If that gets you to eat, I guess I can call you hyung.”
“Now, say it cutely.”
“Eat, hyung.” Jongho’s voice was in that no-nonsense style he could so amazingly portray.
Hongjoong took a tentative bite. It was hot and slightly too sweet - the added sugar Jongho had threatened with - but it went down easier than he had thought. The past days his stomach had been in such tight knots he had barely even wanted to drink. But now it felt okay-ish.
His stomach didn’t immediately tie itself into knots like he had feared. Nor did the sharp cramping come back. Actually, it felt soothing. Gently warming him from the inside.
“Okay?”, Jongho asked.
“Okay”, Hongjoong echoed, eating another spoonful.
“You don’t have to eat up”, Jongho said, “just eat what you can.”
“Hm.”
⌛
For a while they sat in companionable silence, the only sound the clicking of the spoon against the bowl. Hongjoong’s hands stopped shaking so much. His stomach felt less angry, less annoyed with him. He actually felt close to human for a few minutes. He was too proud to admit that maybe Jongho had been right but he’d have to subtly thank him later when he was actually back at 100%. Maybe a really really nice vocal line plus high note?
Of course it was too good to be true. After a few more moments everything seemed to crash into Hongjoong again. His stomach felt weird, churning. His head swam. His fingers trembled so hard he nearly lost his grip on the bowl.
“Hyung?”, Jongho asked worriedly, grabbing the bowl and the spoon before they could be dropped. “What’s wrong? You’re really white.”
Hongjoong’s vision tunneled. Crossed. Faded into a slight blackness.
“I’m dizzy”, he mumbled. He could hear himself slurring.
Hongjoong could barely see Jongho through his fading vision, everything blurry. His head ached and his stomach felt seasick. The room suddenly felt far away, twisting from him like a fast moving and tilting camera in a music video. But he trusted his maknae. Vaguely, slightly detached, he felt Jongho push his upper body down flat onto the couch. Hongjoong could feel his eyes roll back at the motion and he gagged slightly. He didn’t quite hear what Jongho said but it sounded suspiciously like “Don’t you dare throw up!”. His head felt so so heavy.
Hongjoong did feel a bit better when he felt Jongho lift his legs onto the height of the couch and then higher into Jongho’s lap. A warm hand patted his ankle, the touch comforting. For a while, Hongjoong for the life of him couldn’t tell how long it was, he just floated. His head ached slightly and he didn’t feel like moving but it was comfortable enough.
⌛
He opened his eyes to find Jongho looking down at him with a worried frown. “You back with me, hyung?”
Hongjoong groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah”, he mumbled. “I think so. Did I pass out?”
“No. You just weren’t really there.”
For a moment he only concentrated on Jongho’s touch, the vocalist still gently patting his ankle. It was actually pretty nice. Even if he normally wasn’t that big a fan of touch.
“What happened?”, he finally asked. “I didn’t eat for days and was fine and now I did eat and everything is off? The hell did you put into this porridge?”
Jongho laughed softly. “First of all: You nearly passed out three days ago before Seonghwa-hyung made you sit down. Second: You’ve had low blood sugar for days. Now it suddenly went up. That can affect the blood pressure and we know your body isn’t skilled in that area anyways.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“You’re welcome, hyung.” Jongho’s voice sounded a mix of teasing and relieved. “How about you just take a nap now? You’re due for one anyways. And you ate, so you will feel much better than earlier when you …”
“Due for a nap?”, Hongjoong interrupted him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “I’m not a toddler!”
“You’re right. You’ve napped more than a toddler the past few days. You’re a baby. Baby-hyung.” Jongho now sounded suspiciously like he was having the time of his life.
“I’ll kill you.”
“I’m too cute.”
“I swear to God, one day ATINY will catch on that you aren’t truly maknae on top but rather an overgrown baby tyrannizing us and totally faking your personality for them.”
“Well, you are the ones getting tyrannized by your maknae so who is actually the loser?” Jongho was grinning now.
“I hate you so much right now”, Hongjoong growled, swallowing all the fondness that tried to slip into his tone.
“You love me.”
“That’s the problem.”
Hongjoong closed his eyes, exhausted but content, falling asleep to the rhythm of Jongho patting him.
I can't believe I actually got around to writing again! It feels like a weird dream.
I honestly can't say thought that I will be able to post much more though I hope I can. Work has been killing me lately and I fear if I actually went to the doctor I could get a burnout diagnosis. Generally I am not doing very well but today I finally had time and motivation to do something but doom-scroll and this was half-finished anyways.
Summary: The stomach bug had passed but Hongjoong still doesn’t feel great. Jongho takes care of him.
CW: mentions of emeto, mentions of fainting
Sickie: Hongjoong
Caretaker: Jongho
“Hyung, do you want me to heat up the porridge Wooyoungie-hyung made?”, Jongho asked, popping into the living room with a concerned face.
Hongjoong, pale and exhausted on the couch, shook his head. “No, thank you, Jjongie. I don’t want to eat.”
Jongho sighed and stepped closer, sitting on the low TV table across from Hongjoong. He loved little rebellions like that, ever since they didn’t live under Seonghwa’s terror regime of cleanliness and order anymore. “You should though. I know you still don’t feel great but you haven’t really eaten in days.”
“I know”, Hongjoong replied. “I just … I don’t feel like eating yet. I’m sorry. I know you are worried.”
It had been nearly a week since Hongjoong had come down with a bad case of the stomach flu. While the vomiting had passed four days ago, their captain very much wasn’t well yet. He still didn’t have an appetite and his hands were shaky. Most of his day was spent sleeping, restful, yes, but apparently not enough to bring him back onto track completely. And he was bored enough to be annoyed at everybody but not well enough to actually do more than lie around.
“Damn right I am”, Jongho said. “You haven’t yet eaten today. It’s nearly 3pm. This is not how you get better. You’re dehydrated, malnourished and have low blood sugar. You’ll just feel worse if you keep not eating.”
Hongjoong nodded, pulling his feet up onto the couch. “I still feel like throwing up just seeing food.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t puked in four days, hyung. It’s pretty safe to say the bug has passed. You’re just running on empty and that’s why you feel bad. You don’t even have to eat much, okay? I’ll make half the porridge, just add some extra sugar, and you eat as much as you can.”
“I … alright. Fine.”
⌛
Five minutes later Jongho sat beside Hongjoong on the couch, holding out a tablet packed with a half-full bowl of porridge, ginger tea and a glass of water. With shaking hands Hongjoong placed it onto his lap, balancing it carefully.
“I can’t believe my maknae is bossing me around”, he mumbled.
Jongho grinned. “I won’t tell ATINY as long as I get bragging rights to Seonghwa-hyung for the rest of my life.”
“You’re a menace.”
“You’re welcome. After all, I am taking care of your ass.” Jongho sounded way too pleased with himself.
“Oh, shut up.”
“It’s eat up”, Jongho shot back.
“Eat up, hyung.”
“Fine”, Jongho said, laughing. “If that gets you to eat, I guess I can call you hyung.”
“Now, say it cutely.”
“Eat, hyung.” Jongho’s voice was in that no-nonsense style he could so amazingly portray.
Hongjoong took a tentative bite. It was hot and slightly too sweet - the added sugar Jongho had threatened with - but it went down easier than he had thought. The past days his stomach had been in such tight knots he had barely even wanted to drink. But now it felt okay-ish.
His stomach didn’t immediately tie itself into knots like he had feared. Nor did the sharp cramping come back. Actually, it felt soothing. Gently warming him from the inside.
“Okay?”, Jongho asked.
“Okay”, Hongjoong echoed, eating another spoonful.
“You don’t have to eat up”, Jongho said, “just eat what you can.”
“Hm.”
⌛
For a while they sat in companionable silence, the only sound the clicking of the spoon against the bowl. Hongjoong’s hands stopped shaking so much. His stomach felt less angry, less annoyed with him. He actually felt close to human for a few minutes. He was too proud to admit that maybe Jongho had been right but he’d have to subtly thank him later when he was actually back at 100%. Maybe a really really nice vocal line plus high note?
Of course it was too good to be true. After a few more moments everything seemed to crash into Hongjoong again. His stomach felt weird, churning. His head swam. His fingers trembled so hard he nearly lost his grip on the bowl.
“Hyung?”, Jongho asked worriedly, grabbing the bowl and the spoon before they could be dropped. “What’s wrong? You’re really white.”
Hongjoong’s vision tunneled. Crossed. Faded into a slight blackness.
“I’m dizzy”, he mumbled. He could hear himself slurring.
Hongjoong could barely see Jongho through his fading vision, everything blurry. His head ached and his stomach felt seasick. The room suddenly felt far away, twisting from him like a fast moving and tilting camera in a music video. But he trusted his maknae. Vaguely, slightly detached, he felt Jongho push his upper body down flat onto the couch. Hongjoong could feel his eyes roll back at the motion and he gagged slightly. He didn’t quite hear what Jongho said but it sounded suspiciously like “Don’t you dare throw up!”. His head felt so so heavy.
Hongjoong did feel a bit better when he felt Jongho lift his legs onto the height of the couch and then higher into Jongho’s lap. A warm hand patted his ankle, the touch comforting. For a while, Hongjoong for the life of him couldn’t tell how long it was, he just floated. His head ached slightly and he didn’t feel like moving but it was comfortable enough.
⌛
He opened his eyes to find Jongho looking down at him with a worried frown. “You back with me, hyung?”
Hongjoong groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah”, he mumbled. “I think so. Did I pass out?”
“No. You just weren’t really there.”
For a moment he only concentrated on Jongho’s touch, the vocalist still gently patting his ankle. It was actually pretty nice. Even if he normally wasn’t that big a fan of touch.
“What happened?”, he finally asked. “I didn’t eat for days and was fine and now I did eat and everything is off? The hell did you put into this porridge?”
Jongho laughed softly. “First of all: You nearly passed out three days ago before Seonghwa-hyung made you sit down. Second: You’ve had low blood sugar for days. Now it suddenly went up. That can affect the blood pressure and we know your body isn’t skilled in that area anyways.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“You’re welcome, hyung.” Jongho’s voice sounded a mix of teasing and relieved. “How about you just take a nap now? You’re due for one anyways. And you ate, so you will feel much better than earlier when you …”
“Due for a nap?”, Hongjoong interrupted him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “I’m not a toddler!”
“You’re right. You’ve napped more than a toddler the past few days. You’re a baby. Baby-hyung.” Jongho now sounded suspiciously like he was having the time of his life.
“I’ll kill you.”
“I’m too cute.”
“I swear to God, one day ATINY will catch on that you aren’t truly maknae on top but rather an overgrown baby tyrannizing us and totally faking your personality for them.”
“Well, you are the ones getting tyrannized by your maknae so who is actually the loser?” Jongho was grinning now.
“I hate you so much right now”, Hongjoong growled, swallowing all the fondness that tried to slip into his tone.
“You love me.”
“That’s the problem.”
Hongjoong closed his eyes, exhausted but content, falling asleep to the rhythm of Jongho patting him.
Summary: “Sorry, hyung. Seungkwan isn’t feeling …”, Vernon started and then stopped suddenly before rushing footsteps and a sigh sounded through the speakers, “Seungkwan just puked all over himself.”
Vernon had already been worried and suspicious when Seungkwan had refused to eat much at dinner. After all, Wonwoo was down with a stomach bug and Seungkwan had sat next to him the entire flight from Seoul to Los Angeles. If anybody was to catch it except Seungcheol, who had been taking care of Wonwoo, it was Seungkwan.
So he wasn’t very surprised when Seungkwan took a shower early and got ready for bed, looking pale and unwell.
Vernon wasn’t the best when it came to nausea and vomiting and he would rather be very far away. But he was the best when it came to Seungkwan and so despite his own hesitation he sat down on the edge of the bed where Seungkwan was curled up under the blankets.
“How are you feeling?”, Vernon asked gently, brushing back a strand of Seungkwan’s hair - wet or sweaty he couldn’t tell.
“Awful. My stomach really hurts”, Seungkwan mumbled, shifting so he could rest his head in Vernon’s lap. “I don’t want to have the stomach flu.”
Vernon sighed. “I know, Kwannie. Do you want me to get a hyung? Coups-hyung, maybe? He’ll make you feel better.”
Seungkwan nodded against his thigh, moving just a bit so that Vernon could reach his phone.
He dialed the number quickly, their leader on his speed dial one. He took a few steps away from the bed, prone to pacing when he was nervous or worried.
“Nonie, I was about to go to sleep”, Seungcheol’s voice echoed through the phone just as Vernon was about to hang up. Their leader sounded tired, probably from hours spent caring for Wonwoo. Vernon did feel bad but right now he knew they needed him and it couldn’t wait. Seungkwan looked really sick.
“Sorry, hyung. Seungkwan isn’t feeling …”, Vernon started explaining but trailed off. A sudden groan made him whirl around and he watched helplessly as Seungkwan pushed himself up and without any more warning was sick. Sour-smelling, orangish vomit spilled from his lips onto his shirt and blankets. He couldn’t help the sigh but he instantly rushed to his best friend to support him. He propped up Seungkwan awkwardly with one arm, not wanting the older one to choke on his own sick.
“Seungkwan just puked all over himself”, he finished weakly.
There was silence on the other end of the phone call.
And then. “I’ll be there.”
💎
Vernon had barely managed to get Seungkwan to the bathroom (and he had only gagged once himself so he counted it as a win), when there was a knock at the hotel room door.
“Stay here while I let Coups-hyung in, okay?”, Vernon mumbled to Seungkwan. With a glance at the soiled blanket he had pushed into the tub, he added: “Try to aim for the toilet, please.”
“Hi, Nonie”, Seungcheol greeted when Vernon opened the door, looking weary but at the same time ready to help his poor dongsaengs. “Where is he?”
“Bathroom. Hyung, he’s really miserable.”
“If he has the same thing as Wonwoo-yah, I am not surprised”, Seungcheol replied as he made his way to the bathroom. They found poor Seungkwan curled up over the toilet, arms resting on the seat and face inside the bowel. Vernon felt his own stomach turn when he heard the deep retches and the sound of liquid vomit hitting water.
He couldn’t help it, his body reacted in the same way. A gag rose in his throat and he turned away, stifling it into his elbow. Seungcheol, mat-hyung that he was, didn’t have such problems. He instantly sank down next to Seungkwan, brushing back hair, leaning forward so he could whisper soothing nonsense into Seungkwan’s ears. He had no problem being so close to the puke in the toilet. The thought alone made Vernon shiver.
Sometimes he wondered if it had anything to do with the whole hyung/maknae-line thing. None of the hyung line members were really squeamish (though he had heard of the incident where Hoshi had thrown up directly on Woozi who then had spent the rest of the day gagging on and off). Meanwhile in the maknae line Mingyu, Seokmin and Vernon himself were very squeamish, borderline emetophobic. Minghao only went to comfort any of them either, preferring to leave the gross jobs to the hyungs. Dino wasn’t the biggest fan either, though he had more issues with stomach flues or any other vomiting reasons where it was contagious and could hit him. Otherwise he was mostly okay. Seungkwan truly was the only one of the maknae line totally unfazed by puke.
As if reading his thoughts Seungcheol turned to Vernon and said: “Nonie, go and get some air, okay? I’ve got Kwannie, you don’t have to stay. Go to Shua or another hyung, okay?”
Vernon nodded and fled, the echoing sound of vomiting following him out.
💎
“What should I do with you, huh?”, Seungcheol whispered, brushing back Seungkwan’s hair. The vocalist was still curled on the bathroom floor, a little ball of misery and nausea. He hadn’t managed to lift his head away from the toilet yet, too scared he’d throw up again. Honestly, Seungcheol was a bit afraid of that too.
Seungkwan’s sickness was as miserable and violent as Wonwoo’s had been, if not worse.
“Hyung, I feel like I am dying”, Seungkwan mumbled, his voice ending in a sob. “I am so nauseous.”
“I know, Kwannie. I know. I wish I could take this from you”, Seungcheol replied, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I don’t suppose you want to try meds?”
Seungkwan shook his head. Then he sighed and slumped back against Seungcheol’s chest, burying his face in the junction between Seungcheol’s shoulder and throat. He was like a little kid, curled up in his hyung’s lap.
“Can I … can I stay here?” His voice was painfully tiny. “You make me feel better.”
Seungcheol smiled, holding Seungkwan even tighter. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you go, kiddo. Just rest, okay? Don’t even think about dying on me. I’d miss you too much.”
Seungkwan’s breath hitched in what might have been a small laugh.
💎
It was a miserable night for both of them. Seungcheol had to fight against his own tiredness and Seungkwan kept throwing up. By morning both of them were exhausted. Seungcheol barely managed to carry them to bed. They only had one cover and barely enough space for two grown men, but it was enough.
Summary: Sweat was flying around him, long hair wet with perspiration as he whirled. The grey shirt Hyunjin was wearing was soaked through, damp and darker everywhere. The younger dancer was pale and there was a heaviness to his breath that Minho didn’t like at all.
CW: fainting mentions of emeto
Sickie: Hyunjin
Caretaker: Lee Know/Minho
“What the hell are you doing?”, Minho asked sharply as he stepped into the practice room, feeling horror wash over him. He hadn’t even meant to come back to the room - after all they had just finished a brutal six hour practice half an hour ago - but he had forgotten his water bottle and decided to take a detour through the building to fetch it. Not that it was a fancy bottle or anything, actually just a normal water bottle, plastic, generic. But Han had put a Hanquokka sticker on it and Minho hadn’t had the heart to throw it away.
Indeed the bottle was still where he had left it, in the middle of the far mirror wall.
Hidden behind Hyunjin.
Hyunjin, who like Minho, had just finished the practice. And yet, the younger was in the middle of the room, furiously dancing to MANIAC.
Sweat was flying around him, long hair wet with perspiration as he whirled. The grey shirt Hyunjin was wearing was soaked through, damp and darker everywhere. The younger dancer was pale and there was a heaviness to his breath that Minho didn’t like at all.
Hyunjin didn’t seem to have heard or noticed him, which was another red flag. He normally was very aware of his surroundings, to not hear or see his hyung even when his presence was obvious was just wrong. Minho stood back and watched with his arms crossed.
As he paid even closer attention he noticed how Hyunjin’s steps weren’t as graceful as they should have been, instead he was stumbling and landing heavier than he usually did. His movements weren’t fluid but choppy, as if his body didn’t respond as well as it should.
Something was wrong.
🧭
“Hyunjinnie”, Minho called, louder this time, crossing over to the side and turned off the music. Only that made the dancer stop.
“Hyung?”, he asked, whirling around. His eyes were wild, haunted. His body trembled. He seemed utterly confused. “What are you…? You’re not supposed to be here!”
“Neither are you”, Minho replied, crossing his arms, “care to explain why you are here and using up precious rest time and risking your health instead of waiting for tomorrow’s practice?”
Hyunjin ran one trembling hand through the tangled strands of his hair, swaying a bit. His breathing was still heavy. “I just wanted to be good enough”, he whispered, his voice breaking as he looked up at Minho. Tears were brimming in his eyes.
Immediately Minho dropped his sharp facade, turning into the worried hyung Hyunjin clearly needed right now. A possible scolding could wait. He sighed and stepped forward, reaching out to Hyunjin.
“Who said you aren’t?”, he asked, trying to hide the anger rising inside him. He knew Hyunjin tended to be more insecure than he led on and he was a soft soul. Comfort was key now.
“I just …”, Hyunjin mumbled, staring at his feet. “There are so many expectations. The company’s, the fans’ - oh God, the fans -, yours, my own. I just, I … it’s a … it’s a lot right now.”
Minho narrowed his eyes. Something else was wrong. Hyunjin never stumbled over his words like that. He was blinking slowly, as if he had trouble focusing.
But Hyunjin just kept pouring out his heart. “I … everybody … everybody is expecting me to be … to be somebody else. Cool. A great performer, the best. Untouchable. Full of confidence. Sexy. Cool. Happy. Shy. Funny. Cool. Love … loveab … loveab…”
Hyunjin trailed off, a far away glance in his eyes. Then his knees buckled.
🧭
Minho was there in a heartbeat, arms around Hyunjin’s waist, pulling his forward so he would collapse into his hold, not backwards. They hit the ground hard, Minho’s knees exploding with pain.
But it was all overshadowed by the worry he felt for Hyunjin.
“Hey, hey, Jinnie? Are you with me? Hey! Stay awake!”, he called, trying to hold them up. But Hyunjin’s face was slack, his head lolling forward, hair like a curtain hiding his expression. He just groaned when Minho gave him a little shake.
“Shit.” Careful but efficient Minho laid Hyunjin down, turning him onto his back so he could access him better. Hyunjin’s limbs just melted against the floor, strings cut. Minho ran his fingers over Hyunjin’s cheek, tapping gently. “Come on, Jinnie. Stay with hyung, please”, he begged. “Don’t pass out on me. I don’t want to explain this to Channie-hyung.”
His words may have been joking but inside Minho was terrified. Panicked. They all had passed out before, multiple times. It never got easier to see the light dim in their friend’s eyes.
“Hyungie.” Hyunjin’s voice was tiny, weak. Barely a breath but clearly a word. And then. “I don’t feel good.”
“I know, baby”, Minho mumbled, his hand not leaving Hyunjin’s cheek where he cradled the younger. “But please try to stay awake for me.”
“My body feels floaty”, Hyunjin whispered, “spinning. It’s so dark. I’m scared.”
“I’m here. Hyung is here, don’t worry. I’m gonna call Channie-hyung. We’ll get you feeling better, okay?”
Minho didn’t realise he himself was shaking until he nearly dropped his phone pulling it out of his pocket. He hit speed-dial one, his other hand brushing away the strands of hair clinging to Hyunjin’s sweat-soaked face.
He didn’t even wait for Chan to greet him. As soon as he heard the call connect, he called: “Hyung, Hyunjinnie is fainting in the practice room. I need you.”
There was a sharp gasp, a curse and then: “I’ll be there.”
But as Minho put his phone away, he felt it more than he saw. Hyunjin’s head rolled to the side, away from his hand. His body went limp, as if all strings had been cut. He was out.
Biting his lip to suppress his tears, Minho did what he had been trained to do. Rolled Hyunjin on his side, in recovery position. Neck overstretched in case Hyunjin vomited. With two fingers pressed to his dongsaeng’s neck he tried to monitor his heartbeat. Fast but steady. The skin clammy, wet with cold sweat.
It was some of the worst moments in his life, waiting for Bang Chan to arrive or Hyunjin to wake up.
🧭
In the end their leader arrived first. No greeting, just a heavy drop beside Minho.
“He’s been out since I called you”, Minho explained, hating how his voice shook. “I think he overdid it. He was practicing again or maybe still practicing. He said … he said he wanted to fulfill all the expectations placed on him. Company, fans, himself. Us.”
“It’s good you were here, Lino”, Chan said calmly, his hand squeezing Minho’s shoulder for a moment. “Let’s wait for him to wake up and then I’ll take him home. He’s on bedrest until a doctor looks him over.”
It was then that Hyunjin stirred, a faint flutter of lashes against skin. A moan. Then cloudy eyes blinked open.
“Hey, baby”, Chan greeted gently. “You’re okay. Hyungs have got you. Let’s go home.”
He reached out to lift Hyunjin into his arms but the dancer shook his head slightly, features still confused and out of it. But his hand reached weakly for Minho.
The older dancer blinked in confusion. “You want … you want me to carry you?”
Hyunjin nodded faintly.
Chan laughed softly. “Come on, somebody needs a lot of rest tonight. No more overdoing it.”
Minho nodded, squeezing Hyunjin’s hand before lifting him under his knees and back, the younger’s head resting against his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, baby”, he whispered. “You are more than enough.”
Summary: Hongjoong crossed the room to sit next to Seonghwa. “I thought you would have passed out the moment your head hit the pillow.”
CW: hospitals, IVs
Sickie: Seonghwa (all of them, really)
Caretaker: Hongjoong
“You can pretend all you want, you know”, Hongjoong said as he slid a cup of tea over the table to Seonghwa. Winter was brutally cold in Seoul. Temperatures dropping below freezing and snow always a threat. Still, they were filming an episode of WANTEEZ outside. It didn’t help that just based on the red flush, the glassy eyes and the shivering Seonghwa might be running a fever. The eldest tried to pretend he was fine but Hongjoong saw he was quickly losing strength. At least they had a short break now to warm back up inside. “But we share a room. I can hear you coughing all night. I know you didn’t sleep much all night. You’re clearly sick.”
Hongjoong for the life of him couldn’t understand why on earth they were filming some content outside, barely a week after most members had recovered from the flu taking them down one by one. They had hoped that due to the three dorms they would get spared from infecting each other but that idea had soon turned moot.
First it was just San and Mingi who were a bit sniffly and they really tried to avoid the other dorms’ members. Due to their schedules it wasn’t really feasible though and soon after Hongjoong, Jongho and Yunho started to cough and run fevers. Then Yeosang and Wooyoung came down with it just when they thought they had avoided it. Hongjoong, in fact, was still coughing a bit and Yeosang and Yunho were still constantly on the search for tissues, though they blamed the low temperatures.
Seonghwa, however, stubbornly refused to admit to his own illness, having spent the past weeks nursing his dongsaengs back to health.
“I’m fine”, Seonghwa growled, voice a bit raw.
“Sure”, Hongjoong mocked and turned aside to cough into his elbow, “we’re all sick or at least we were all sick. There’s no shame in it. It doesn’t matter that you are the oldest, you know.”
Seonghwa didn’t answer, just staring at a point above Hongjoong’s head.
“I’m fine”, he said with an air of finality.
Hongjoong sighed. He would try again in the evening and if he had to make Yunho sit on Seonghwa for him to admit to illness.
⌛
That evening dorm arrangements seemed more like a suggestion than actual reality. With all of them frozen to their bones and having shared different room arrangements the past night when they had filmed outside of Seoul, they had just decided to bunk down in the dorm Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Jongho shared.
As had been a sorely missed habit from their shared dorm days, Hongjoong made a final round before wanting to retire himself. He was deadtired too, already in cozy pajamas that were slightly too big and fuzzy slippers he couldn’t remember if they actually belonged to him.
Yeosang, Wooyoung and San were all cuddled up together in Wooyoung’s big bed - the one had insisted on for cuddle sessions and his obsession with plushies. Now the space was definitely in good use, occupied by three sleeping men. Yeosang was slightly snoring through his congested nose. Wooyoung clearly had insisted on being the middle and now clung to both his friends. San seemed to be the unlucky one who would wake up in the middle of the night with no blanket left for him. Hongjoong smiled and smoothed a part of the blanket over San’s calves.
He walked across the hall to find Mingi and Yunho in Jongho’s bed. Yunho was passed out diagonally across the bed, drooling a bit in his deep sleep. Mingi was on his phone and waved when he noticed Hongjoong sticking his head inside. “Jongho insisted Yunho should sleep on a real bed tonight”, Mingi whispered apologetically, “but said he didn’t want to get drooled on. He’s on the couch, I think. I tried to convince him but…”
“It’s alright”, Hongjoong mumbled. “You know maknae, he’ll be the toughest of us all and have the kindest heart. But he does sleep better alone. You should sleep too.”
Mingi nodded. “I will. Will you go to bed?”
“Yeah, just gonna check on Jjong”, Hongjoong replied. “Sleep well.”
“You too, hyung.”
Jongho indeed was on the couch, sitting upright and drinking what Hongjoong assumed was hot water with honey. The maknae swore it helped with sore throats. Wooyoung and San called it the secret teddy bear agenda. He looked up when Hongjoong walked inside.
“How are you feeling?”, Hongjoong asked as he sat down next to him.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m okay”, Hongjoong replied, not keen on that particular discussion, “tired but okay. Tired of coughing.”
“Me too”, Jongho mumbled, briefly leaning his head on Hongjoong’s shoulder. It was a sweet gesture of trust - neither of them were particularly cuddly but it definitely showed how much Jongho valued him. Generally, he was less touch-averse in real life than in front of cameras. “I’m gonna drink up, then go to sleep. It’s been a long-ass day.”
“Yeah, you can say that.” Hongjoong sighed. “Sleep well, teddy bear.”
“Yah, hyung!”
Finally Hongjoong made it back to his own room. As he pushed the door open he couldn’t suppress a smile. There Seonghwa was, sitting on Hongjoong’s bed like it was his own, patiently waiting for him.
“How are the kids?”, he asked quietly, stifling a cough into his sleeve.
“They are fine”, Hongjoong said and crossed the room to sit next to Seonghwa. “I thought you would have passed out the moment your head hit the pillow.”
“I wanted to”, Seonghwa admitted, yawning. It triggered another cough. He clearly was feeling unwell enough to actually say he was sick - and Hongjoong felt worry bloom in his chest. “But I can’t really lie down. I just start coughing again. I wanted to wait for you to fall asleep first.”
Hongjoong sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry about my sleep. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ll just endure and be happy if I survive the night.”
“I’ll make you some tea”, Hongjoong said. “Might help a bit at least. Jongho made some hot water anyways, maybe there is some left.”
Seonghwa opened his mouth to probably protest but he was shaken by another cough. He hacked into his wrist, sounding miserable. “Thank you”, he whispered.
⌛
Five minutes later Hongjoong returned, carrying a tray with two mugs of hot peppermint tea. He might as well enjoy some too and he wasn’t that well either.
“Thanks”, Seonghwa whispered, accepting a mug and inhaling the hot stream.
Hongjong placed his own mug on the bedside table, knowing with his clumsiness he’d just spill it over himself.
“I’m sorry”, Seonghwa mumbled into his mug.
Hongjoong looked up, startled. “Whatever for?”, he asked gently.
“I know I am being difficult sometimes when it comes to sickness.”
“You’re always difficult when sick”, Hongjoong teased gently but then turned serious. “But honestly, it’s okay. You always take care of all of us and I know at least half of us are also really bad patients. You deserve to be cranky and difficult if you’re not feeling well, you know?”
“Still, I’m sorry.”
Hongjoong tucked a strand of Seonghwa’s hair behind his ear. “Fine. I forgive you.”
They were quiet for a moment. Seonghwa lifted the mug to his lips and took a slow sip.
Hongjoong had no idea what had happened but suddenly Seonghwa shoved the mug he had held into Hongjoong’s hand. Before he could ask what was going on, Seonghwa doubled over, coughing violently.
Instantly Hongjoong placed the mug down on the bedside table, ignoring that a bit spilled. He gently put his hand on Seonghwa’s back and rubbed the small of his back. “Breathe, Hwa”, he whispered, barely audible over the violent sound. Hongjoong was helpless to watch as the coughing spell tore through his friend, causing him to gasp for air as his eyes turned teary and his face went red.
“Come on, breathe”, Hongjoong encouraged, “you need air, love.”
But Seonghwa was at the mercy of his sick body. All Hongjoong could do was sit with him and hope for the best.
He didn’t expect Seonghwa to cry out like he did then, pained, followed by what sounded like a sob. “It hurts”, Seonghwa whispered. “My chest… my chest hurts so bad, Jongie.”
“Shit”, Hongjoong whispered, frantically looking around the room as if something could help. He found himself shaking with fear and adrenaline, not sure how to handle a member coughing so badly and crying from chest pain. If it had been anybody else he would have asked Seonghwa but…
The door slamming open startled both of them and Seonghwa flinched, then cried out again. Jongho, still awake apparently - or maybe woken by the wretched sounds - had burst in. He looked all cozy in his fluffy pajamas but he too looked panicked as he saw Seonghwa.
“Is hyung choking?”, he asked, voice trembling a bit though it sounded hard as steel otherwise.
“I don’t think so”, Hongjoong said. “He was coughing after drinking and then he said his chest hurts.”
“Hyung?”, Jongho asked, ignoring Hongjoong and crouched down in front of Seonghwa, uncaring that his hyung was coughing into his face. “Can you show me where it hurts?”
Seonghwa moved his hand to the lower left side of his ribcage.
Hongjoong and Jongho looked up at each other, coming to the same horrible conclusion at the same time.
⌛
As Hongjoong kept comforting Seonghwa, Jongho dialed one of their managers, begging for help.
Within minutes two managers, Beomseok and Sooah, stood in the room, watching Seonghwa panting and holding his chest for a moment before Beomseok said: “We’ll take Seonghwa-yah to the hospital. We’ll keep you updated.”
“What?”, Hongjoong burst out, “I am coming too! I always go with them to the hospital.”
Sooah stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Not this time, Joongie”, she said. “You’re sick yourself. We can’t risk it.”
They didn’t wait for further protests and both Hongjoong and Jongho knew it was fruitless to argue. Seonghwa needed a hospital fast.
⌛
It was another three days until Hongjoong was finally allowed to go to the hospital to see his best friend. They hadn’t had much contact and according to Sooah he had mostly slept and rested.
Now, as Hongjoong stepped inside the hospital room, cap pulled low into his face and mask over his mouth and nose, Seonghwa was sitting upright against the hospital bed. He still had an oxygen mask over his face but his breathing sounded much more healthy than it had days before. The pain lines from his face were gone and overall he looked much better.
“Hey there”, Hongjoong said as he pulled out the chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Seonghwa smiled and reached for his hand, squeezing. “Buch better, really. The pain meds help a lot. Turns out, coughing so hard that your rib fractures again hurts. Also turns out, coughing with a fractured rib hurts too.”
“Don’t joke”, Hongjoong admonished gently, “it was pretty scary seeing you like that.”
“Sorry”, Seonghwa said, teasing smile vanishing from his face. “I guess, yeah. I didn’t mean to. Scare you, I mean.”
“I know”, Hongjoong said, squeezing his hand. “But maybe let’s aim for not breaking our ribs while coughing again, okay?”
“I can’t make promises but I’ll do my best.”
“Oh”, Hongjoong said, grabbing the bag he had placed by his feet. “Beomseok said bringing flowers with pollen will do more harm than good. I got you something else, though.”
He held out a thermos.
“Still want that tea?”
Notes: Beginning seems familiar? It's because it's the continuation of my Seonghwa headcanon:
ATEEZ Headcanons - Sick but not sick enough to stay home
hi hi, i have a request for a story....can you write a story where han, lixie, chan, binnie, and innie have a tummy bug? where it hurts really bad? pretty please?
hi there,
I am so sorry but I don't have the capacities right now for such a request and I don't really write Bang Chan or Changbin as the sickies.
I am so sorry and I never wanted to announce this - especially not for my own ego - but I won't be able to finish Sicktember. I have some fics queued up but it's not done.
As I said before, I am currently moving and it's a lot more stressful than I thought. Between
friends demanding to know when I'll finally live in the city
my grandparents not wanting me to move
my mom being difficult about everything (she's helping me renovate and I love her for this but seeing each other daily for two weeks is too much) and disagreeing about priorities
nothing getting anything done in time
everything taking longer than planned
spending my whole morning with call centers for gas, electricity and internet instead of packing
not being close to being done packing but moving on Sunday
scared of moving on Sunday (because it will mean my mom will be annoyed that things will be in the way for the last renovation things)
everything hurting from the physical stuff
having a work day where I don't know what to do tomorrow (I will legit be there and feel bad I hadn't helped my colleague plan stuff despite me officially being on vacation rn)
...
Well, I am about to cry every five to ten minutes every single day. I wish I had time to write and actually imagine a different world but alas, it's not supposed to be I guess...
I hope you enjoy whatever I have queued up (at this point I don't even remember...)
