Round 1 2023: Quotes

[hwarium]

Status: Closed This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted. Seventeen Holidays Round 1: Quotes About "Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time." "How inconvenient to be made of desire." "It's me, hi, I'm the problem its me." Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy WeVerse drama. 🛑 HOLD UP If this is your first time on 17hols please check out our About Page which contains helpful information and links to pages explaining dreamwidth and HTML. We are a prompting fest where all the action happens in the comment section. Rules Sign up is not required. Fills have a minimum of 400 words for prose, haiku-length for poetry (3 lines), and 400px by 400px for art (memes are also art). Other mediums are fine too! There is no maximum cap. Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest). NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged NSFW art should not be visible, please provide a link and a warning. You may crop the artwork and embed a SFW preview. How it works Prompting Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post; Change the subject; Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want! Need ideas? Check out our 2021 and 2022 Quote rounds. <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Do Not Wants:</strong> None <strong>Prompt:</strong> <blockquote>[QUOTE GOES HERE] </blockquote> Filling Reply to the original prompt; You must change the subject to [FILL] - this is to help the mods track. Feel free to add a title Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment, edit the sections, and add your text. You may also upload your fill to the AO3 Collection. <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** Remixing Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above; Change the subject to [REMIX]. Art/media Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.) Using the same HTML code as above, copy the link into your fill or remix. That's it! Optionally, you can embed a picture into your comment. Please use the following code instead. (To explain, the HTML resizes your picture to 400x400px so that it fits on most screens. Users can view the full size if they click on it. You can also add a link to your work on twitter so that others can share it, or to any other website you want) <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** <img src="INSERT IMAGE URL" width="400px"> <a href="INSERT ANY URL YOU WANT">TEXT THAT DESCRIBES THE LINK</a> Note! On dreamwidth, you can't edit a comment once someone has replied to it. Navigation ABOUT FAQ CHAT BAITS ✧ FILLS ✧ < ROUND 1: QUOTES > ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES 2021 2022

Comments

for you, i'll do anything

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Acts of Service.
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“I can’t believe you’d do all that for me.”
She looks at me steadily. “There’s no-one I’d rather do it for.”

Erin Gough, The Flywheel

living in a glass house

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Minghao (/Any)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, one sided, unrequited love, i feel like a lot can be done with this so if anyone takes it (go crazy)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

이뤄지지 않는 꿈속에서
In a dream that can’t come true,

피울 수 없는 꽃을 키웠어
I raised a flower that couldn’t bloom

- Fake Love, BTS

why am I still here? (while you're happy)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Boochan, Gyuhao, Gyuhan, Wonhan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: post-break up, one still living in the ghost of what used to be a relationship while the other is moving on, being stuck in memories, the unbreakable cycle of feeling miserable over other's happiness but also happy that they're happy
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

난 맴돌고만 있어
I’m just orbiting you
(난 널 놓쳤어 난 널 잃었어)
(I missed you, I lost you)
난 헛돌고만 있어
I’m just circling without traction
(넌 날 지웠어 넌 날 잊었어)
(You erased me, you forgot me)

- 134340, BTS

why can't we stay here? (in this dream)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan (/Any), Jeongcheol, Jihan, Gyuhan, Gyuhao, Soonwoo
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: the inevitable end of a relationship doomed from the start, not wanting to end something you know you have to let go, desparately wanting happiness with someone that you know you can't stay with
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

카드로 만든 집 그 속에서 우린
Inside a house made of cards we are
끝이 보인대도 곧 쓰러진대도
Though we see the end, though we know that it’ll soon collapse
카드로 만든 집 바보같이 우린
A house made of cards- we, like fools,
헛된 꿈이래도 이대로 조금 더 stay
though it’s an empty hope, stay like this a little more

- House of Cards, BTS

a cup of warm tea and you

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: chasing happiness all your life and finally finding it, being content with what you have, domesticity, fluff, learning that the love you have been finding has been beside you all this time
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

There was a time when I thought I wanted more. When I saw the sky as a soaring highway and the world as one big carousel. But those yearnings have grown so distant, ebbed so far away from me, they feel as though they belong to someone else. All I want now is a rainy day, a roaring fire, you and I talking about how quickly the time has gone.

- Lang Leav, Sea of Strangers

look at me (but only under the sheets)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Jeongcheol, Jihan, Gyuhan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: ambiguous relationship, slight angst, wanting happiness that is within your reach but being afraid of shattering it, the fear of baring your soul naked and feeling vulnerable, happy ending
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

i stand naked before you. i fear you may see my heart. i’m not well with the secrets my body tell.

the truth is complicated. it’s easier to lie and spread my legs apart.

it is easier to push your head lower than to say what’s going on inside my head.

it is easier to say “fuck me harder” than to say “love me and only me.”

- K.Y.Robinson, the chaos of longing

[FILL] i fear you may see my heart

[soupblog]

Ship/Member: gyuhan, 2k, jeonghan pov
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: implied/referenced sex, ambiguous relationship, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, wanting things you don't know how to ask for
Permission to remix: Please ask

***

Jeonghan should leave. He should leave now, before Mingyu wakes up– like he usually does. He tells himself it’s easier this way, but no matter how many times he walks out, it always hurts the same. But staying is not what he does, it’s not what he and Mingyu do. It’s not how they work.

This is how they work; Jeonghan calls Mingyu late at night and asks what he’s doing. Mingyu lies and says he’s free, even if Jeonghan can hear music in the background or people talking. Jeonghan pretends he doesn’t hear it. Jeonghan goes to Mingyu’s place and Mingyu’s there, opening the door, letting him in like he’s letting in a stray cat to shelter it from a storm. They have sex in Mingyu’s bed, and before he wakes up, Jeonghan has left. Repeat.

Sometimes Mingyu calls Jeonghan, but it’s rare. Even if it’s just sex, he knows Jeonghan well enough to know not to ask for more than Jeonghan gives him. Because Jeonghan is selfish, and he’s mean, and the idea of anyone wanting him enough to call him to ask is scary.

It’s better like this, Jeonghan calling Mingyu when he wants to. He can at least pretend that it’s on a whim, that he’s already been at a party and didn’t find someone else to keep him company through the night. Jeonghan can pretend he’s not calling Mingyu because he wants him and only wants him.

Jeonghan untangles himself from Mingyu carefully, slips out of bed and picks his clothes off the floor. He lingers in the doorway for a moment, looking at Mingyu, sleeping peacefully. He can almost imagine what it would be like, if he stayed. Sometimes he thinks they could even be happy.

But Jeonghan has a bad habit of holding on to things too tightly and shattering them in his grasp, and he ends up hurting himself and the other person in the process. He doesn’t want to hurt Mingyu. He doesn’t want to get hurt.

So Jeonghan leaves.

…

The next Friday, Jeonghan’s lying on his bed, fingers wrapped around his cellphone. He stares at Mingyu’s contact for a few moments before hitting the call button.

“Minggu-yah,” he says, when Mingyu picks up.

“Hyung,” Mingyu replies. “What’s up?”

There’s noise in the background this time. Mingyu must be at a party.

“What are you doing tonight?” Jeonghan asks.

“I– I can’t tonight, hyung,” Mingyu says. “I’m at Minghao’s birthday party.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan says. That’s all he says.

“Hyung?” Mingyu says. The noise has stopped. He must have gone outside. “I’m sorry, but maybe we can–”

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan says, lying. “I’ll call someone else.”

“Hyung–”

Jeonghan hangs up.

He shoves his phone under a pillow and rolls onto his side, curling up with his knees pulled to his chest. It’s fine. Mingyu has other friends, more important friends– Jeonghan isn’t important. They’re not even friends, he and Mingyu. Whatever they are, there’s not a word for it. Not one Jeonghan knows at least.

And Jeonghan doesn’t call anyone else, there’s no one to call– he could call Seungcheol, he supposes, but Seungcheol is seeing someone now and doesn’t have time to indulge Jeonghan.

He remembers Minghao. He’d met him at a party once, and Minghao had been… nice. He was pretty, and cool, and was into art and fashion and had so much in common with Mingyu. And when all three of them were talking, Jeonghan would look at Mingyu, but Mingyu would be looking at Minghao.

He curls around himself tighter, and he tries not to think about what Mingyu’s doing, and who he’s doing it with.

…

The next day, Jeonghan runs into Mingyu at the coffee shop. He’s with Minghao, of course he is– Jeonghan tries to pretend he doesn’t notice them, but Mingyu comes up to him, tugging at his elbow.

“Hyung,” he says, with a tentative smile. “How was your night?”

Jeonghan bites the tip of his tongue before saying, “fun. What about yours?” He looks over at Minghao, who’s sitting at a table behind them. “Why’d you leave Minghao behind? Embarrassed of me, are you?”

“No,” Mingyu says, sounding slightly annoyed now. “No, I just… I wanted to talk to you. Without him.”

“Hm?” Jeonghan says, tilting his head. “Why would that be? Also, you haven’t said how your night was. But I suppose it’s obvious, given that you’re both here together.”

“No,” Mingyu says again. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“I’m not having sex with Minghao,” he replies, still with that edge to his tone. But he’s gotten a little quieter, so that they’re not overheard by the other people in the shop. “Hyung, just–” he pauses, swallowing. “Can I call you tonight?”

Fuck. Jeonghan stares at him blankly, unsure of how to navigate the question. He wants to say yes, which means he probably shouldn’t.

“Not tonight,” Jeonghan says. “I’m still tired from last night. Maybe next weekend.”

Mingyu deflates, and finally lets go of Jeonghan’s elbow. He looks disappointed, but not angry. Jeonghan sort of wishes he’d get angry, but Mingyu never does.

“Alright,” Mingyu says, quietly. “I… goodbye, then.”

Jeonghan nods and grabs his coffee from the counter, and he leaves the coffee shop and hurries home. He feels like shit. Lying to Mingyu isn’t like lying to anyone else.

…

The week passes at an agonizingly slow pace, until finally Friday comes around. Jeonghan sits by his phone, having canceled his other plans. He calls Mingyu around midnight, as usual.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, before Jeonghan can say anything. “I– I didn’t think you’d call.”

There’s no background noise this time around. Jeonghan’s heart does something weird in his chest.

“I called,” Jeonghan replies. “Are you home?”

“Yeah.”

“I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says. “See you.”

“See you.”

An hour later, Jeonghan’s splayed out on Mingyu’s bed, with Mingyu hovering over him. Their clothes lie scattered on the bedroom floor, the soft moonlight the only thing lighting up the room.

Jeonghan curls a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Mingyu obliges, open mouthed and tender. Jeonghan wishes Mingyu would kill him.

“Hyung,” he says softly, pulling away again.

“How do you want me, Mingyu?” Jeonghan whispers, tracing his thumb over Mingyu’s Adam’s apple. “On my back? On my knees?”

“I want… I want you to be honest with me,” Mingyu says.

“What?”

“I know it’s not what we do, but I need– I need a little honesty, hyung,” he says. He swallows roughly. “Do you not want me to see other people?”

Jeonghan stares up at Mingyu unseeingly, he feels like he’s falling. Falling, falling, falling. He hopes he hits the ground soon.

“What makes you ask that?” Jeonghan manages, trying very hard to keep his tone neutral.

“Your reaction to Minghao,” Mingyu replies. “Even when I told you nothing happened, you still looked… I don’t know, but you didn’t look happy about it. So I want to know, do you not want me to see other people?”

“Does it matter?” Jeonghan asks. “I’m not your boss, or your boyfriend. You can do whatever you want.”

“It matters,” Mingyu says. “Of course it matters. I never– I never want you to look at me like that again. I don’t think I could take it. You were looking at me like– like I was cruel, like I was being cruel. I didn’t mean to be cruel, hyung.”

Jeonghan swallows, looking away from Mingyu. The truth is stuck in the back of his throat like a held back cough; don’t see other people. Love me. Only me.

“You can do whatever you want,” Jeonghan says again. Why hasn’t he hit the ground yet?

“But what do you want?” Mingyu asks again, stubbornly, insistently. “You never say what you want, hyung. I feel like I’m going crazy. Is this not what you want? Us, together?”

“Together?” Jeonghan croaks out, suddenly hitting the ground– it shatters underneath him like glass, sends him tumbling further and further down. Hot lava swells up underneath him. “What do you mean, together?”

“I don’t know, hyung,” Mingyu says, getting increasingly desperate. He looks like he wants to shake Jeonghan, like he wishes he could shake him like a magic eight ball and force an answer out of him. “That’s the point, I don’t know. I have no idea.”

“I don’t–” Jeonghan starts, but the words get stuck in the back of his throat again, and despite how hard he tries not to, he cries.

Mingyu is startled for a second, staring wide eyed down at Jeonghan who’s started to cry openly. The sobs rip out of him harsh and ugly, every one of them forced out of him against his will.

Jeonghan tries to push Mingyu off him, and for a second he thinks Mingyu lets him– but what Mingyu does is roll onto his side, pulling Jeonghan into his chest. Mingyu curls around him, and he lets him weep until his throat is raw with it.

When Jeonghan speaks again, it’s the rawest he’s ever been. It hurts. He feels like Mingyu has seen him more than naked; he’s seen under Jeonghan’s skin, into his bones and his heart and Mingyu has held onto him anyway. Jeonghan doesn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan sniffles, feeling very pathetic. “I’m sorry, Mingyu. You didn’t ask for this, you… you just wanted an answer. You didn’t want this.”

“That’s not true,” Mingyu says, softly. His hand comes up to stroke the back of Jeonghan’s head, smoothing over his hair. “I want this, if this is you– if this is part of you, I want it too. I just never asked for it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

“How do you do that, Mingyu?” Jeonghan asks. “How do you just say things like that? How do you ask for what you want?”

“Because I think you need to hear it,” Mingyu replies. “An eye for an eye, right?” He pauses, his hand stilling on the back of Jeonghan’s neck, fingers threading through his hair. “I don’t want to see other people. I just want you, hyung.”

Jeonghan squeezes his eyes shut. “Why is the truth so hard?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu says. “Is it easier to lie, though?”

Jeonghan considers this for a moment before saying, “not anymore. I thought that maybe I could keep lying if it was just to myself and not to you. But I don’t like lying to you, Mingyu. Despite what it may seem like.”

“Tell me the truth, then.”

“I…” Jeonghan starts, swallowing hard. He’s clinging onto Mingyu’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to see other people, I don’t– just me. Only me. Don’t fuck anyone but me.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, like it’s easy. Like it’s not terrifying and horrible and frightening. “I won’t.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asks.

“Because I don’t need anyone else. I just need you.”

“That’s…”

“Not possible? It is, though. I’ve already been doing it for… how long has it been, hyung? We’ve been fucking on and off for a year or so, haven’t we? I haven’t slept with anyone else for a year. Just you.”

Finally, Jeonghan pulls away enough to look at Mingyu again. And Mingyu’s eyes are filled with earnesty, and something else. Something soft and malleable.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “And I never needed anything else, I never… I wanted more, of course. But it was enough, just being able to be with you like that, because I could tell you weren’t ready and you didn’t want more. But I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

“It’s not,” Jeonghan says. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes again. “More and more, I find myself wanting to… share things with you. Date nights, and holding hands, and… stuff like that. Things that people who just fuck every now and then don’t do.”

“I want that too, hyung.”

Jeonghan starts crying again. He wipes at his face angrily, frustrated with himself. Mingyu pulls his hands away from his face and wipes his tears away for him, and he kisses Jeonghan’s eyelids gently.

Oh, what is Jeonghan gonna do with a love like this?

because you're made of moonlight

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan (/Any)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: anything works but please consider rule 63 because who doesn't love some yearning sapphics, unrequited love but not exactly, YEARNING, happy ending
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon- struck,
Kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

- Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl's Lovesong

I will never again dream of having the whole world

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: take this wherever you're called!
Do Not Wants: non-con, unhappy ending

Prompt:

The truth is this:
My love for you is the only empire
I will ever build.

When it falls,
as all empires do,
my career in empire building will be over.

- Mindy Nettifee, excerpt from This Is The Nonsense of Love (highly recommend reading the whole poem!)

[FILL] as all empires do (pt1)

[klav]

Ship/Member: Joshua/Junhui
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, fantasy, not really character death
Permission to remix: Yes

-split into two because I accidentally went over the character limit
-heavily inspired by this teen wolf fic from 10 years ago: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604092

***

The body understands an earthquake quicker than the mind.

Joshua is acutely familiar with that first second of disorientation as the quake hits: like his head is tilting, like his ears are about to pop. He’s always dizzy before the ground actually starts moving. Sometimes he can hear the whole street fall quiet. The sensation is specific, he’s never had cause to mistake it for anything else.

But he feels exactly like that when he wakes up in Jeonghan’s lap.

Disoriented. Displaced. Afraid.

Joshua blinks furiously. The white-lit practice room spins into focus. He lurches to his feet before he’s fully conscious, his ears swimming, the staff members shouting. Joshua crawls on his hands and knees to where Junhui is lying supine on the hardwood floor. His hair is shockingly dark, his shoulders bony where they jut out from his back.

Junhui is awake by the time Joshua reaches him. He’s gasping, his eyes wet and wide.

“What…” Junhui chokes.

“Junhui.” Joshua cups his face. The room hushes. “This is—this is real.”

Junhui looks at him like the roof is collapsing around their bodies. He latches onto Joshua’s wrists tightly. “We’re in Seoul,” he says. His lashes flutter slowly. “We met two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Joshua says. “You were right. I—”

His throat closes.

An unreadable emotion jumps across Junhui’s face. He jerks his head to the side, breaking Joshua’s hold, and his mouth twists up like he might be sick. Instead he laughs. It’s an awful, wretched sound. It sticks in his throat, gets husky and wet, until it dies out.

Joshua sits back. From far away, he hears Soonyoung whisper into the crushing silence of the crowded room, “What are they talking about?”

/

“Oh, malatang again?”

Joshua toed off his shoes and shuffled into the warm apartment. He was accosted by smell: rich hearty broth, prickly peppercorn, the cool touch of lettuce and sweet potato. He dropped his briefcase and relaxed; he’d know that smell anywhere.

Junhui glanced up, backlit by the California sunset bleeding pink through the arched window. He grinned, sheepish. “I didn’t feel like shopping. We had the ingredients already.”

“Mm.”

“Sorry. I know you’re getting sick of it.”

“It’s okay. Did we have any of the squash?”

“Oh.” Junhui’s face fell. He hunched in on himself a little, his ears pink. “No. Sorry, I know that’s your favorite.”

Joshua rounded the table and came up behind Junhui. He rested his chin on Junhui’s shoulder, snaked his arms around Junhui’s waist. Habitually, his hands found the thin gold ring on Junhui’s finger and touched it the way he once touched the cross around his own neck.

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” Joshua murmured into his throat.

Junhui laughed. “Ah, okay, okay.”

He turned easily in Joshua’s hold, leaned down and kissed him open-mouthed. His silly fake specs slid down his nose and knocked against Joshua’s cheek.

Joshua pulled back. “Ugh. You taste like salt.”

“I’ll make that better, too!”

Junhui bit at Joshua’s shoulder, playful like their age difference was ten years instead of one. Joshua couldn’t even pretend not to like it. He fiddled with Junhui’s floppy fringe.

“Tell me, tell me.” Junhui pressed. “What do you want? I’ll get us ice cream from that walrus place. I’ll let you steal one of my peach face masks again.”

“It’s not stealing if you give it to me.”

“But I didn’t give it to you last time. You just used it.”

“Because you said you didn’t like peaches!”

Junhui laughed, again, like the idea was ludicrous. His arms were still looped around Joshua’s neck, the weight of him a warm anchor. After hours of boring, sludgy work, Joshua finally felt like himself again. Returning home was a resurrection.

Junhui kissed him to avoid the inevitable argument. It was infuriating. Joshua kissed him back anyways.

The soup bubbled on.

/

The official story? An accident during dance practice. Joshua loses his spot for a moment and Junhui doesn’t check his peripherals. They both lunge for the same position, arms raised for the following grapevine. Their skulls crack in the middle.

Down like sacks of rice. Unconscious, sprawled on the floor, legs tangled.

To everyone else it lasts ten seconds.

To them it lasts five years.

/

The whole ride back to the dorm, Joshua can’t look at Junhui. Thank god for Jeonghan sitting between them, stiff and silent, his eyes flicking back and forth underneath his lashes. Wondering if they’re telling the truth. Wondering if they’re both having a massive psychotic break.

Joshua rubs between his eyes, trying to quell his growing headache. Last time he was in the dorms was yesterday. Last time he was in the dorms was five years and a day ago. It’s a strain to sieve the memories, the impossibility of their situation.

The van is cold. He rolls his shoulders to suppress a shiver, straightens his spine until his posture is impeccable. From the corner of his eye he sees an aborted movement—Junhui, grabbing his own jacket, then dropping his hands.

Joshua briefly closes his eyes.

“Your Korean,” Jeonghan says, his voice soft. “Your… accent. It’s a lot better. I could tell immediately.”

“Who?” Junhui asks.

“Both of you.”

Yeah, Joshua thinks. That tends to happen after five years of practice. Wait until they hear him speak Mandarin.

/

“You’re still awake?”

Junhui shuffled out of the bedroom, his hair in utter disarray. He scratched unappealingly at his ears and Joshua almost reflexively told him to stop. He didn’t have the energy for teasing tonight, though. Long midnight shadows swallowed the living room, dwarfed him on the couch where he curled into a pile of blankets. It was one of those nights he couldn’t explain. Sleepless. Adrift. Disturbed.

“I’ll come to bed in a minute,” Joshua lied.

Junhui trudged to the other couch cushion and collapsed there, no pillow, no sheets or blankets or phone charger. The blue light from his screen hurt Joshua’s eyes, but Joshua could guess that he’d started reading a webtoon.

He didn’t offer to stay. Probably because he knew Joshua would say no. He just… did it anyway.

The silence thickened. There was no sound except their breathing, not the thrum of the heater, not even a passing car. How rare, in Los Angeles, not to hear traffic.

“Do you ever feel like…” Joshua swallowed hard. “Like something’s missing?”

Junhui dropped his phone on his chest. He tilted his neck back to study Joshua upside down. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember the last time I called my mom.”

“Oh, it was just—” Junhui blinked. “Last week, wasn’t it? Or the week before.”

“I don’t know what we talked about.”

Junhui said nothing.

“When did you see your brother last?”

“He lives in Shenzhen,” Junhui answered immediately, as if that was reason enough that Joshua couldn’t picture his face correctly. It was fuzzy, just of reach. Like his mother’s voice.

Joshua twisted his hand in the blanket. “I’ve never met your coworkers.”

“I tell you about Mr. Shin all the time.”

“But we said we’d get dinner together. Months ago.”

“Well, yeah.” Junhui shrugged. “I guess we forgot.”

“Nothing feels right,” Joshua said, and his voice broke. The humiliation nearly stopped him, but this was Junhui, he could say whatever he needed to, he could at least try. “It doesn’t—this doesn’t feel the way it’s supposed to—”

Junhui scrambled to sit up straight, his eyes wide and worried. He pawed patiently through the blanket nest until he reached Joshua, until he could cozy up beside him. The warmth of his body instantly helped. Joshua took a deep, calming breath.

Junhui stared. His eyes caught the lamplight and glittered. “I think… I think I get it. The neighbors,” he whispered, hesitant, like his agreement might shatter the spell of their lives. “We’ve never seen them or heard them. That’s weird, right?”

Joshua nodded.

Dread settled between them. Joshua was afraid to ask Junhui how they met, afraid to admit he couldn’t remember. It was at work and they were eighteen. He knew that much. But where? How? Details flashed and slipped away like silver fish in a dark, dark pond. He couldn't see the bottom of his own mind.

Gently Junhui uncurled Joshua’s hand from the blanket. He lifted those fingers to his mouth, whispered into Joshua’s knuckles:

“You’re real, though. I know you’re real.”

Something in Joshua's chest loosened.

/

Readjustment is challenging. Not only because he’s both twenty-seven and twenty-two, both sparkly idol and humdrum translator, both in love and out.

Mostly because he and Junhui do not speak.

They fulfill their duties quietly, professionally. They dance. They sing. They spend hours in the same room avoiding eye contact.

Seungcheol catches on after four days and corners Joshua in the kitchen making tea. The dark, bitter kind that Junhui always had stocked in their kitchen.

“I know you had an… experience that we don’t really understand,” Seungcheol says, his eyes huge and earnest. “How can I help?”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Joshua says apologetically. What he really wants to do is sit down and have a nice long cry. He misses the privacy of his old apartment. “I’m sorry. We’re fine, though.”

They have to be fine because Joshua isn’t sure where to start otherwise. If he lets himself think about it for too long, the questions become a tsunami. The confusion, the grief, the displacement.

Were those peach face masks real? Why were we in my hometown and not yours? Have you called your family yet, did you cry to them the way I cried to my mom? Does anyone actually believe us? Do you ever wake up and forget where you are?

/

The first day of Junhui’s new job at the restaurant, Joshua bought him a box of fancy vanilla cream cupcakes and went down on him with so much enthusiasm that he sprained his jaw. Junhui oscillated between cackling and cooing, his pants still around his ankles, squishing Joshua’s cheeks and peppering kisses all over his face like that had some sort of real medicinal effect. It was one of the most embarrassing nights of Joshua’s life. Also, by far, one of his favorites.

[...]

love: the final frontier

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: sci-fi, (star trek au if you're so inclined), tenderness even in the darkest nights
Do Not Wants: non-con, unhappy ending

Prompt:

I have this theory that somewhere
across the universe,
there is a planet just like ours
but their forests float on water,
their whales dance through the sky,
there are twice the amount of stars
visible from their skies,
and the people there were given the choice
to love or to live forever
and still, still
every single one of them chose love.

- Nikita Gill, Space Theories

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A (hannibal au very much not necessary, go anywhere you want with this!)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

HANNIBAL: Do you fantasize about killing me?

WILL: Yes.

HANNIBAL: Tell me. How would you do it?

WILL: With my hands.

- Hannibal S2E8

[FILL] and they called off the circus

[tangerinekth]

Ship/Member: junhui/chan
Major Tags: minor character death, guns (1) and knives (1)
Additional Tags: mentions of: alcohol, murder/death, and sexual content, criminal jun/agent chan
Permission to remix: please ask

***

junhui has never been told he is a patient person. he likes getting what he wants, when he wants, and is quick to make a face when he doesn't. so it's to be expected, really, when chan shows up two hours later than he thought, and junhui is sulking on his couch.

"you were supposed to be here forever ago," junhui says, swinging his feet around like a child, and almost knocking over a succulent. he is too long-limbed for the cramped space he's in, always has been. they can only do so much to accommodate his model-like stature in their studio apartment.

"no one believed me," chan says, taking off his coat. "i told them the answer to your riddle was at me and my boyfriend's apartment, and they told me to shut up and go check with the witnesses again." he's bitter, no longer the boastful rookie agent he was years ago. he's too used to being told to step back and watch the others do the work he was also trained for. he's accustomed to being second place to every other agent he knows.

"but here i am," junhui smiles. he stands, and chan bites his tongue at the familiar way junhui towers over him now, easily able to trap him in if he wished.

"here you are," he agrees, slipping off his shoes like he's arrived home on a regular wednesday night.

but if it was a regular wednesday night, junhui would be greeting him with a kiss, a new recipe, and an apron around his waist. instead, junhui stands in front of chan with a knife strapped to his side and a bounty the size of a building in gangnam on his head. but the kiss is still the same, slow and easy, a contrast to who junhui is as a person.

"you finally caught me. it just took you, what? four years?" junhui asks after the younger pulls away.

"it would've taken me less if you didn't decide to trick me," chan scoffs. he goes to their bedroom and junhui follows behind, trailing silently like a cat.

"i didn't trick you!" junhui insists. "i've always told you the truth, chan-ah."

"the truth would've been that you're a criminal," chan tells him. he sits at the edge of the bed and junhui settles beside him like it's second nature. like beside chan, there should always be junhui.

"do you really think that's what i am? a criminal?" junhui asks, softly. chan turns to face him, and junhui's gaze is heavy, suffocating as chan thinks of where he was taught to draw the line.

the black and white version is that criminals are people who have broken the law. and by that definition, junhui is a criminal, having stolen diamonds, lives, and more.

"yes," chan answers. "there's even a bounty on you now. one billion won. if i turn you in i could go to hawaii. or greece."

"that sounds lovely. you would love santorini," junhui comments, nodding. "do they want me dead or alive?"

chan doesn't answer at first. he stays silent, staring at the closet in front of them that contains too many clothes. it's mostly junhui's, some his, and a lot shared. he likes how junhui's hoodies fit him, just right around the shoulders but long at the sleeves.

"dead. they say you're too dangerous to keep alive," chan tells him.

junhui sighs and lays down on their bed. he's a wanted man yet he takes the leisure of fluffing up one of their pillows and resting his head on top of it.

"so, are you going to kill me?" junhui says.

chan blinks. in the office, he thought he would. he was furious at the time, having pieced together that the criminal named "moon" was actually his boyfriend of three years. but now, as he feels junhui's arms suddenly wrap around his shoulders, he hesitates.

"yes. you're a murderer." it's robotic, even to him. "the man you killed had a family."

"a lot of people have families," junhui says, right by his ear. "you have one. i had one. just because you have a family doesn't make you a good person, chan." junhui's hands crawl up chan's arms before reaching his neck. it's too easy how the older's palms cover the expanse of his skin.

"have you thought about killing me?" chan questions. junhui's hands are warm around his throat. the action would be almost comforting if he didn't know about the blood that stains them.

"i've seen it in dreams," junhui answers. "you find out. i confess. we fight. sometimes you win and sometimes i do. but lately, it's been me. so i guess yes, i have thought about it. fantasized about it, in fact."

"and how do you do it? in those dreams?" chan asks.

before junhui answers, chan feels his hands move from his throat down to his chest. they skim over his ribs like he's counting them one by one.

"with my hands," junhui responds. "it's almost always with my hands." chan doesn't even feel it when junhui takes his gun from him, wouldn't have even known if the weapon wasn't dangling in front of his eyes.

"is that why you sent the agency that riddle? because you knew i was the only one who would understand and find you here?" chan remains immobile in his spot for reasons he refuses to put a name to. right now, at least, he can still tell his boss he was held at gunpoint, act as if junhui wouldn't have let him go the second he walked in.

"do you think i'm going to kill you?" junhui asks back. "that i did all of this because i want you dead?"

chan is quiet, unable to look away as junhui's hands envelop his. when the older lifts his away, the gun is perfectly snug in chan's grasp.

"if you weren't an agent, i would've swept you away ages ago," junhui tells him. "we would have gone to greece together. watched the sunrise in oia, gotten drunk on ouzo. we would have gone dancing. you love dancing."

they had taken a salsa class together for three months during the first year of their relationship. junhui was good from the start, but chan caught up quickly. the elder had said he had always picked things up fast. now, chan wonders who else he has danced with, who else junhui has made promises to.

"what else would we do?"

"we would have taken a wine making class, seen the vineyards and the black sand beach before getting dinner with a view." junhui holds the muzzle of the gun between two of his fingers and angles it over chan's shoulder, right where chan knows junhui's head now rests.

"is that all?"

"no. when we would get back to our place, i would beg you to fuck me. the way i know you like, on my knees and promising to be good for you." there's a puff of air by chan's ear. his face feels impossibly hot. junhui is too close yet too far. "you have always made love to me so well."

chan laughs. "is that why you never killed me? because i'm a good fuck?"

junhui grabs him by the chin and smashes their mouths together. this time, junhui does not wait. his tongue is in chan's mouth and the desire to take is clear. he wants something, maybe everything. but chan does not know what else he has left to give him.

"think about it like this," junhui pants against his lips. "i want to kill you just as much as you want to kill me."

junhui's response clears up nothing. because while the gun sits in chan's hands, he knows he has no power. there is not a single bone in his body with the desire to pull the trigger, and his heart is beating too fast for a criminal who has taken too many of his years.

"kill me. take your money." it's a dare, a taunt, junhui's cocky way of showing off that he knows chan better than chan knows himself.

the gun falls from the younger's grasp and his limbs go pliant as junhui pulls him up the bed with him. he cages chan against the mattress, and chan does not need to think when kissing junhui back. junhui has always been a good kisser.

"do you love me?" chan groans, his hands on junhui's belt buckle. the corner of junhui's lips curl up and there is a softness that takes over his sharp features that reminds chan of their first date. coffee at the café by his office, junhui bought him a matcha cheesecake in the shape of a heart. it was cliché. painfully normal.

"i love you as much as you love me."

and that is all the confirmation chan needs.

-

"did you hear?"

"what?"

"the director was found dead this morning."

"what the fuck? do they know who did it?"

"people are suspecting moon. but i don't know. they said it was a two-person job and everyone in the agency knows moon works solo."

"yeah, that's true. did agent lee ever solve that riddle from the other night?"

"i don't know. i checked his desk and it was empty."

"empty?"

"yeah. none of his shit is there. all i could find was a postcard in his desk."

"a postcard?"

"yeah. from greece."

it was a dark and stormy night

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency, and after dropping a load of unmentionables in one of the heavy-duty machines (a mistake that would soon turn deadly) she turned to me, asking for two things: find her missing husband and make her a salami on rye with spicy mustard, breaking into tears when I told her I couldn't help--I was fresh out of salami.

- John Farmer, winner of the 2022 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, a challenge to write "an atrocious opening sentence to the worst novel never written"

meet me under the stars

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: jeongcheol, soonwoo, gyuhan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: longing for someone and meeting them again, YEARNING, could also be right person wrong time but they meet again later at the right time, soft, give me tenderness soft touches starry eyes, LOVE
Do Not Wants: unhappy ending, infedility

Prompt:

When I meet you again,
I’ll look into your eyes and tell you
“I’ve missed you”

/

When this fog gets lifted up,
I will run to you on my wet feet
Hold me then

- Still With You, Jungkook

(now i'm) haunted

[st8rgazer]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: alternate universe!
Do Not Wants: canon compliant/canon divergent

Prompt:

I ask her if I can start recording. To my surprise, she says no, telling me that she would rather talk first and be interviewed another time. I tell her I don’t mind, but secretly I agonise over what we say to each other, imagining each word disintegrating as we speak. [...] I try to talk without worrying, wondering if what we say can be captured on our next call when Corinne knows I’m recording. I scribble pieces of our conversation in my notebook to return to later, a frantic attempt at preserving,

- Haunted Houses, an essay by Laura Maw

[FILL] close enough for comfort

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Chan & Soonyoung & Wonwoo
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: photographer!wonwoo, ghost hunter (of sorts)!hoshi, interviewer!chan, this all makes better sense in my head ok
Permission to remix: Yes
Word Count: 1.1k

***

[a/n heavily (heavily) referenced the quote source in this one lol]

***

This is what Chan imagines: the photographer, Jeon Wonwoo, dipping his head under the black hood of his camera to look through the lens; and his partner, Kwon Soonyoung, gently pulling aside the owner of the house being photographed to distract them with questions and put them at ease about the two near-strangers inside their home. Wonwoo’s lens is focused on an open doorway, beyond which lies an old bedroom. The room looks lived in: cushions of varying sizes and patterns lie at the head of the oakwood bed; a rocking-chair, upon which rests a knitted throw, is to its left, hidden partly in the darkness behind the doorframe; a cardboard box filled with odds and ends—yarn, needles, spools of thread—peeks out from underneath it. A potted plant, a large dreamcatcher, and a painting in shades of brown and blue hang above the headboard. The painting depicts two figures, one in light and the other in shadow, but their faces, despite gazing out towards the viewer, are obscured by a swathe of paint; no matter how hard one looks, their features can’t be discerned.

Chan looks up from the photograph in question to his laptop screen. Wonwoo’s seated in front of a blank wall in his studio, arms folded across the table before him, looking exactly the same as he did two years ago when he and Chan last met. He even has on the same glasses. “I didn’t expect him to be of any help at all,” Wonwoo’s saying about Soonyoung wryly, his voice breaking up on occasion due to the poor connection, “but I was surprised to find myself proven wrong.”

The perfect moment to interject—they’re only a few minutes into their conversation, and this is around the time he usually mentions it—Chan asks if he can start recording. To his surprise, Wonwoo says no, telling him that he would rather talk first and be interviewed another time. Chan pauses for a moment but says he doesn’t mind; secretly, he begins agonizing over what they say to one another, imagining each word disintegrating as they speak. “Was it difficult, making the decision to move countries for the sake of your work?” Chan asks, trying to keep his worry out of his voice. He pulls his notebook and pen closer, ready to jot down anything Wonwoo says that he might want to return to when they’re actually recording.

Noise from Wonwoo’s end of the call has him looking to his right in the middle of a sentence. “I brought lunch!” someone says, and must be brandishing shopping bags because Chan hears the rustling through the laptop. A moment later, Soonyoung’s face shows up in the camera frame. “Oh, was the interview today?” he asks. “Dino-yah! Have you eaten?”

“Do you still insist on calling me that?” Chan replies, and the conversation quickly devolves from there. However much of a comfort it is to catch up with old friends, even if only over an online call conducted well before sunrise in order to match time zones, there’s a reason he avoids interviewing people he knows if he can help it: it’s impossible to stay professional. Between bites of kimchi fried rice—apparently, the food in several of Koreatown’s restaurants reminds them of home—the three of them jump from topic to topic, discussing Wonwoo’s temporary move to the States and his subsequent rise in success, the publication of monographs, Soonyoung’s visit and its extension, his memories of learning to dance in the academy Chan’s parents still run in Iksan, Wonwoo’s first impression of Chan as a freshman, what Joshua’s doing right now, what Jihoon’s doing right now, what Mingyu’s doing right now. Through it all, Chan keeps his eyes to the screen but his pen to paper; he scribbles pieces of their conversation in his notebook to return to later, a frantic attempt at preserving, and they become a strange list: ghost stories, Shirley Jackson, stereo cards. His biggest fear is one he’s painfully familiar with due to mishaps in previous interviews, when noticing the tape recorder’s static numbers or replaying a jumbled phone recording: the acute dread of losing good sentences. He knows his internet is as stable as ever; his anxiety stems from the American end, with whole phrases getting lost not only in the connection but also in the delay, when they accidentally speak over each other.

At one point, Wonwoo talks about the inspiration behind Haunted Houses. “I didn’t notice it myself,” he says. “When Soonyoung first accompanied me on one of my shoots in New York—this was for one of the group catalogs I featured in, No Place Like Home—he talked to the owner of the house we were working on and found out the house had a ghost. Then for Parameters, I photographed the houses of thirteen people with agoraphobia, and they all mentioned having ghosts in their houses.” The way he says it—ghosts in their houses—passes no judgment. Apparently this is also the time Soonyoung decides to extend his stay, and the two start their hunt for haunted houses. One takes the pictures, the other records the stories of the people who live there, and a pattern emerges: to the owners, the ghosts are a presence not unwanted but comforting. A woman named Denise talks of how when her family first moved in, doors would be locked and the television turned off at night if anyone forgot to do the same before going to sleep; she once woke up early to find someone sitting at the foot of her bed, wearing a flannel shirt, their face blurred to her vision to the point she couldn’t make out any of their features—just like the painting above the headboard. She told nobody of the incident until a friend of hers, a psychic, casually mentioned having a dream in which a figure wearing a flannel shirt was sitting on Denise’s bed. Another person in another house, a child named Mia, tells Soonyoung of the ghost that plays with her toy car every evening, driving it up as far as the roof.

Chan can’t help but wonder if Soonyoung’s told Wonwoo about the first house he lived in, if that’s where his lack of judgment stems from. Perhaps Soonyoung’s natural inclination towards belief over skepticism has rubbed off on his best friend; Wonwoo had always seemed much more cynical when in university.

Before long, their hour together is at an end, and the trio say their goodbyes, with Wonwoo promising to make time later on during the week for a recorded session. Chan exits out of the meeting and looks down at his notebook to find his writing has skewed across the lines, the words becoming smaller and harder to read, often even overlapping with other words to create a convoluted mess.

He sighs. This will be hell to type up.

[firmamentss]

Ship/Member: any tbh but i see wonhan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: royalty!au? celebrity!au? secret relationship?? pls go crazyy just want fool in love
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I thought of all the others who had tried to tie her to the ground and failed. So I resisted showing her the songs and poems I had written, knowing that too much truth can ruin a thing. And if that meant she wasn't entirely mine, what of it? I would be the one she could always return to without fear of recrimination or question. So I did not try to win her and contented myself with playing a beautiful game. But there was always a part of me that hoped for more, and so there was a part of me that was always a fool.

- Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #2)

don't you like it here? (I'll do anything for you)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: any but please consider a jeonghan ship
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: unhealthy relationships, obsession, stockholm syndrome if it works for you
Do Not Wants: dub-con, non-con

Prompt:

I made
this place for you. A place for you to love me.
If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is.
- Richard Siken

[slytherminie]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: soulmates? soulbounds? recognizing yourself in the other?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

The moment I saw you, I felt a tug. You are the feeling of falling, the tidal waters, the way a living thing will always turn, seeking light. It isn’t that I think you are good or kind, or even that I love you. It is only that, the moment I saw you, I knew I would seek you out.

- the jasmine throne, tasha shuri

champagne inside the bathtub

[slytherminie]

Ship/Member: Any (i think junhui should be here)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: up to you but i'd like some fucked up relationship study with a sprinkle of cheating
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

He loves you, he adores you, he gives it all for you
But you are a baddie who’s crazy for me
You like bad boys, you catch fire with me, eh-eh
I’m pulling your hair, I’m blessing you
Although you are a sin, eh, I’m going to hell if I continue

- gato de noche, nengo flow ft bad bunny

through the dark

[st8rgazer]

Ship/Member: jihoon/any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: exploring sexuality etc etc
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Because we were boys,
I could only touch you in the dark.
Where we pretended the sins
promised by our fathers
could not find us.

- REVELATION, Ocean Vuong

eternal beauty (or is it damnation?)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: jeonghan (/Any), please consider jeongcheol and gyuhan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: just jeonghan as dorian gray please, gyucheol are very perfectly interchangeable as basil but anyone works, it could also be set in joseon instead of the victorian era if that works
Do Not Wants: NO MURDER PLEASE

Prompt:

“from the moment i met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. i was dominated, soul, brain and power by you. you became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. i worshipped you. i grew jealous of everyone to whom you spoke. i wanted to have you all to myself. i was only happy when i was with you.”

/

"My dear Basil," cried Dorian, "what have you
told me? Simply that you felt that you liked me
too much. That is not even a compliment."

"It was not intended as a compliment. It was a
confession."

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

i love that you can't help but be yourself around me

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any; personally i nominate jigyu, verkwan, or any jun ship, but if you have a different vision, i'd love to see that too!
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

It's the way you wear your emotions on both of your sleeves
To the face you make when I tell you that I have to leave

[...]

Say, say you won’t change
I love the little things that make you, you
Oh, the rest of the world is strange
Just stay in our lane
Just you and me and our family
I think you’re so cool
(even though I’m cooler than you)

– from Plastic Off The Sofa by Beyoncé

to make your soul grow

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any; you can write no ship at all if that’s what feels right. i included quotes by howoo bc their words seemed relevant, but they don’t necessarily have to be in the fill
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: the simple joys + inherent worth of making art and loving art, learning who you are through the process of making art; could be idolverse or non-idol AU/not-doing-art-as-their-main-career AU
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.

– Kurt Vonnegut in a 2006 letter to students at Xavier High School in NYC; emphasis is from the original text. Bonus quotes:

Q: Seventeen is known to release songs that bring comfort to fans around the globe. What are the members’ go-to comfort songs?
A: I don’t have a single song to pinpoint, but the idea of music on its own already brings so much comfort for me.

– Hoshi, 220603 group interview with Pinkvilla

Q: Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?
A: Myself – regardless of odds, my younger self worked hard and continued to make progress over the years. I came to realize that it was me who made it work.

– Woozi, 201020 group interview with Billboard

but at your best, you are love

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: could be about mutual fear of admitting you’re in love with each other; i’m also very open to other interpretations!
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

When I feel what I feel
Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell you so
You may not be in the mood to learn what you think you know

There are times when I find
You want to keep yourself from me
When I don’t have the strength, I’m just a mirror of what I see

– from (At Your Best) You Are Love by The Isley Brothers. Aaliyah and Frank Ocean have also made gorgeous covers of this song.

what lovers do

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Societies never know it, but the war of an artist with his society is a lover’s war, and he does, at his best, what lovers do, which is to reveal the beloved to himself and, with that revelation, to make freedom real.

– James Baldwin, “The Creative Process”. FYI the full essay is a good read and not too long (2.5 pages). Most of it is about the relationship b/w artist and society – but, as seen above, many of those insights can also be applied to the lover and beloved (e.g. the description of the artist/lover as an “incorrigible disturber of the peace”...lol).

you're so different from the rest

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

In the heat of the summer
You’re so different from the rest
You know, you know, you know, oh
You know that you should be my boy
Oh yes, you do

– from Summer by Brockhampton

a human grandeur

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: up to your interpretation; personally, in this quote i see 1) any of leader line; or 2) the intense public scrutiny of being an idol/public figure, where it seems like every word/action carries extra weight, for better or for worse
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

In Estraven, for instance, one feels the man’s power as an augmentation of his character; he cannot make an empty gesture or say a word that is not listened to. He knows it, and the knowledge gives him more reality than most people own: a solidness of being, a substantiality, a human grandeur. [...] I don’t trust Estraven, whose motives are forever obscure; I don’t like him; yet I feel and respond to his authority as surely as I do to the warmth of the sun.

– from The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin