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

Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain

[thisisrose]

Ship/Member: Applicable to anyone but can I put in an honourable mention for Chan, Jun, Vernon or Joshua?
Major Tags: Any
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: Death, post group dissolution or the dissolution of said group

Prompt:

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

- John Keats

a confession

[kwontent]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: heist or idolverse “Seventeen Take A Lie Detector Test”
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

they will hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if I love you and I will say no but the needle will jump and sputter exactly how you laugh

- ARealLiveGhost on twitter

[ghostscissoring]

Ship/Member: wonu/any or any/any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: doppelgangers, spending years pining after someone who suddenly starts loving you back, except you think it might not be them anymore
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"'Like' and 'like' and 'like' -- but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?"

- Virginia Woolf

Perspective

[thisisrose]

Ship/Member: Joshua
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Optional to put a focus on religion or make this about a relationship/the company/whatever
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.

From « Life is but a weaving » by Corrie Ten Bloom

Image

[thisisrose]

Ship/Member: Minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: The burden of image
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me

From « Warning » by Jenny Joseph

Adoration

[thisisrose]

Ship/Member: (I think a jeonghan relationship would be really good here for reasons but that’s just my thought!)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I throw my passport in the sea,
And name you my country,
I throw all of my dictionaries in the fire,
And name you my language

— Nizar Qabbani

And

And if the devil was ever to see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent

—Farouk Jwaydeh

Pitch Perfect

[thisisrose]

Ship/Member: Vocal Unit / rap unit doing something new
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

High notes can smell fear so you aint gonna be able to play them well unless you act like its no big deal

Frenchhornsandunicorns on Tumblr

Re: [FILL] i’ll be brave

[feralhoshi]

this was very healing 4 me..... where is josh to wash my hair huh

this is my life in a box

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: reconnecting after years of lost contact, mutual unresolved feelings, "my life has gone to shit since we last saw each other and i wonder what you think of me", could be a non-idol au or post-disbandment canon compliant
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

This is my life in pieces
This is my life in a box
I can give you time if you need it
Take a look around, mind the socks

[...]

And now you're here, looking so lovely
My breath smells of beer and I'm first thing ugly
Maybe we rushed this, maybe it's too soon
Maybe I fucked this. Do you think I'm a loser?

— from Life in a Box by Raleigh Ritchie

Re: [FILL] i’ll be brave

[corar]

oh wow .... so much tender... so beautiful..

[fill] t zero

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: wonwoo & seungkwan
Major Tags: none
Additional Tags: none
Permission to remix: yes :-)

***
it’s been weeks since i wrote anything … thank u for sharing this beautiful poem. it was a centering reminder, and inspired me to put even something down. plz imagine here a 30-something jeon wonwoo, far from home, finding his way (this way, that way, wrong way, free way…) lets wish him the best! 1500w

🍊

wonwoo opens his eyes. not very much to his liking, because it’s sunday, though wonwoo now has to lie here, as in under his comforter and his duvet and the quilted square of strawberries and a single rivulet of morning sun, and wonder, as he listens to the pitpitpatpat of his neighbor’s border collie making her way down for her morning walk, how much more he can afford to himself the opportunity to expect anything less or more of a deviation from what he surely must have by now accepted as his normal. ugh, he rolls over and grinds his face into the pillow. what a nice sleep.

normal, normal. wonwoo scratches the phantom itches along his shin. that’s quite all right, isn’t it, normal. his notification center: an email from the leasing office. an response to a meeting invite that was on friday. three notifications from coupang. a calendar alert for a dinner reservation. ahhh. wonwoo sweeps the whole of his leg up in a quarter arch that sends a book and a packet of tissues to the floor. wonwoo, now half-risen on an elbow, blinks. oh, so that’s where it went.

a morning wank. euuuurh, tempting. wonwoo stretches his arms and legs up and down, respectively, then down and up, flexes, unclenches. the groan he lets out from deep his chest is eruptive. no, not now. maybe later. today, it feels like something he has to work towards. he glimpses at his phone once more. still no response from soonyoung. well, that’s okay too.

the trees have started to turn. in just a blink of an eye, is what he had once muttered to minghao by the copier machine on the design floor. he has no excuse ever to be on that floor, and minghao will always get up without complaint from his blueprints to shepherd wonwoo in, and linger by wonwoo’s side, until he’s finished carding through his collated thoughts, and, with a fresh cup of coffee held between fingers, sets off to reenter his routine. minghao had said one day, there is no reason, and while this might have been in reference to the existence of fingerless gloves, it has since become a thread to their relation-ship.

well, time surely flies. he has half a thought then. maybe he should text minghao. wonwoo zips open his banana bag, and holds his phone, and because his gloves have no grip (don’t say a word) it slips back into the pouch, between the pages of the book he surely won’t have time to read today, the blank screen staring back up at him. no, surely, he’s still asleep. it’s okay if he keeps it to himself, standing on the anticipatory curb at the crosswalk, that he imagines minghao sleeping tenderly and softly in this quiet morning, for just a few more moments.

but could you do this (hold a freshly roasted sweet potato (with fingerless gloves) (wonwoo-ya, let it go)). he hits send. to his surprise, a moment later, minghao sends back a sticker. wonwoo wonders if he can wonder if minghao would smile and blow on it cutely before taking a nibble. he bites into the golden shard, and breathes voracious fire through his mouth until the flame is extinguished to dampened smoke. alongside this grove, you can hear the ocean. wonwoo tips his head back and stares into the clear, clear blue sky.

아따야 대단하다, you think, as wonwoo chokes down the last of his sweet potato (peel on) without even a gulp of milk. don’t think anything of it, he cautions, and then he checks his phone. still yet, not a word from soonyoung. sleepyhead. wonwoo breathes in through his nose, because there’s traffic down his windpipe, and cuts through the park.

it’s uphill, then it’s downhill, and it’s a winding path. wonwoo pockets a pretty rock he found atop the low end of a stone wall. kids grip through monkeybars with only the sensation of thrill in their palms and their feet pick up rainbows. autumn is a beautiful time, wherever you go. in particular, it is very pretty here, framing the entrance of this alleyway. wonwoo slips his hands into his pocket, and rolls the stone around in his palm, and he exhales, as he enters.

“모든 날~ 모든 순간~ 함께헤엣취! 우우~선두룩ᄒᆞ다~”

and wonwoo announces: “you’ll catch a c—”

“ack, geez! whoa! oh—” wonwoo splutters and a red-orange leaf flutters to his feet “geez! don’t stand so close while i’ve got a whole broom in my hand! have you no sense of danger!”

wonwoo laughs, and accidentally swallows some grit, as seungkwan whacks off the rest of the twigs and leaves from his shoulder with the broomstick. fussy, admonishing. wonwoo watches seungkwan zoom in and out of focus as he finishes up his tidying. “working on sunday, too. 고생해쓰다이.”

seungkwan peels back, holding the broomstick to his chest as he flicks his eyes up and down wonwoo’s length. it’s not enough to make him quell in his choice, but really, was chartreuse not the move? “veeery weird to,” seungkwan starts and wonwoo’s brows shoot up, “hear a 경상도남자 try his hand, uh? doesn’t it like,” he waves his hand around his mouth, teeth lightly bared, “feel? uh? wrong?”

wonwoo laughs out loud and it expels from hiding one last leaf atop his head. seungkwan lets out a small 엄마야 under his breath, which resolves into a bit of a flustered laugh. wonwoo’s face held in big smile—indeed, something a bit taking.

“어, yeah,” wonwoo laughs between breaths, “어, it is pretty strange.”

“well then, stop.” seungkwan steps into the store, tossing a scowl over his shoulder, “ya look a lil stupid, y’know?” again, wonwoo laughs. “whaddya want t’day?”

there’s an agitated shout: ya, boo seungkwan! who are you talking to like that? and seungkwan shouts back, it’s just wonwoo hyung! to which seungkwan’s mother pops her head through the kitchen window beaming, telling wonwoo to come in, stay, stay, it’s so cold out, 야 아들, get him some tea, and seungkwan pinches his nose, muttering something under his breath.

wonwoo takes in the whole scene with a laugh hanging from his lips. “전.” seungkwan peeks at him as he rearranges some of the buns in the warm case. seungkwan cautions that they only have 동태 ready and, lost in his big-nosed reflection in the metal tin of sesame oil on the counter, wonwoo says, “that’s okay. my friend likes it.”

“형은.” when wonwoo looks over, he’s taken aback, maybe. the late morning sun has started to warm the back of his neck, through his thin jacquard scarf. there’s steam rising through the kitchen window, and from the vat of self-serve tea, and seungkwan’s eyes are taking on the color of the persimmon he had plucked from the tree and placed in wonwoo’s hand. it was sweet. “what does hyung like?”

wonwoo draws it out:

and seungkwan hums out loud as he nods to himself. his fingers drum along the counter, and his shoulders had taken on the slopes of the buckwheat noodles that wonwoo finds himself staring down into, as he sits on a park bench, here at bookkeu’s favorite dog park. soonyoung hasn’t responded, and wonwoo is okay with waiting.

i’m not at all entirely sure why in the world you would treat your best friend who’s offering his precious time to a 도시락 lunch as his first welcome meal, seungkwan had uttered, as he tried to squeeze in yet another row of 충무김밥 into the plastic bag, but i’m guessing this is par for the course for you all.

wonwoo looks back up at the cloudless sky. he laughs. he glimpses to his left and finds seungkwan skipping back in small hops stone to stone with two warm cans held to his cheeks, probably singing something to himself, from the way wonwoo can see his lips shaping sound and joy.

“아니, 내가 만든건데 어째 그래 맛있지?” seungkwan slides onto the bench. he’s smiling through an utter lie. wonwoo’s seen seungkwan try to cut orange wedges and octopus sausages—but, hm, he shouldn’t be talking. seungkwan’s holding a can for wonwoo to take. wonwoo considers, and chooses the coffee milk, and chooses to stuff it into the hood of seungkwan’s parka. seungkwan giggles, and the kids exclaim, and the dogs bark, and the leaves rustle, and the wind sings, and the sun rises.

and soon enough, seungkwan leaves.

coming, and going. wonwoo sips his tea. he’s particularly good at that, seungkwan. what wonwoo is good at, is waiting. waiting, and watching.

well. wonwoo gets up with a groan and dusts off his coat. figures he shouldn’t be dumb about it, at least. it’s mildly annoying to hear it from seungkwan’s lips, which are as red as his ears, as if seungkwan had been the one sitting in sudden wind chill for a good half hour, before coming to his dull senses. i’d woken up too early, wonwoo tries, and i haven’t had any coffee yet. seungkwan looks at wonwoo like he’s lost his glasses, and then offers a sip of his iced americano. seungkwan’s eyes go round as he defensively huffs, what, and while it’s an incredibly funny feeling to wash down a bite of 따끈따끈한 단팥빵 with it, it isn’t all so bad. before seungkwan’s mother can hound seungkwan, wonwoo shouts, 어머니, i ate well, and smiles into his palm. seungkwan calls him weird, and with the reticence and wisdom of age, wonwoo only half-acknowledges it. outside the window, autumn dances, and wonwoo can see the traces of a familiar smile in their arc, and wonwoo marvels it, the beauty of this time.

[FILL] left behind

[soupblog]

Ship/Member: Chan centric, Wonchan but their relationship is up to interpretation
Major Tags: MCD
Additional Tags: freeform, grief, being left behind, slight existentialism
Permission to remix: Yes

***

The funniest part of all this is that Chan can’t swim.

He never learned how to swim. Maybe that’s why Wonwoo never told him about this. It would be a stupid reason, but at least it’d be a reason; at least there’d be a reason. Right now there isn’t one.

Chan is standing on a beach, and he’s looking up at a little house on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean, and the keys are in his left hand, and the right one is holding the box with Wonwoo’s ashes. And it’s his house, and the ashes– well, they don’t really belong to anyone, and soon he won’t even have those to hold onto. He’ll just have a set of keys and a stupid house.

He walks down the beach until he gets to a path that winds up along the cliff side, tufts of grass sticking out and making it wobbly and uncertain, and Chan has to spend a long time trying to find a way to get to the house without falling to his death, which is sort of funny too. It would be pretty funny if he died trying to complete Wonwoo’s last wish, wouldn’t it?

Was Wonwoo trying to be funny? Was that the reason? Chan doesn’t think so. Wonwoo had made some bad jokes in their time together, but he didn’t make a lot of jokes about death.

No, there must be something else.

Chan is at the house now. It’s small, and painted blue, and the roof tiles are covered in moss, and it’s… it’s nice. Chan can tell why Wonwoo would like this. Quiet, far away from everything, and small enough that it’s cozy but not cramped.

There’s only two rooms; a combined bedroom, living room, kitchen, and study, and a bathroom. The furniture is unassuming, but it’s all so… Wonwoo. Wonwoo is everywhere. The pillows on the bed are the same ones Wonwoo had at his flat, and the throw blanket is the same brand, and the kitchen is full of food Wonwoo used to eat.

Okay, maybe it is a joke. A cruel joke, but a joke nonetheless.

Chan sits down on the edge of the bed and places the box next to him, and he pulls out the letter Wonwoo had left him again. It’s wrinkled and worn and in some places the ink is already starting to fade from how many times Chan has run his fingers over the words.

He skips over the first part– he’s memorized it long ago anyway. He goes to the part about the house on the cliff and the ocean. Wonwoo’s voice is in his head as he reads, rattling around like a corpse in a casket.

‘I never told you, but I bought a little house. I would’ve liked to have taken you there, I think, but it’s too late for that sort of thing now. I’ve kept it from you for too long, and now I don’t know how to say it. So I’m writing it instead.

You might be wondering why I didn’t tell you in the first place, and the truth is that I wanted something that was my own. I hope that makes sense to you. I wanted something that was mine, a place I could go to escape– yes, even you. Sometimes I needed to escape from you too. Or maybe I was just trying to escape myself; who knows. Sometimes I think you’re more myself than I am.’

Chan crumples the paper up again and throws it across the room. It bounces harmlessly off the wall and falls onto the floor. There’s tears stinging at the backs of Chan’s eyes, and he glares at the box angrily, like if he looks at it hard enough Wonwoo is going to come out of it and make all of this okay.

Maybe Wonwoo would even give him a reason. Chan is still having a hard time deciding on one.

He picks up the box and slides the lid off, and he takes the urn out, and he goes outside again– the wind has picked up significantly. He walks right up to the edge, and he’s hugging the urn to his chest, and he wants something to make sense, anything would do.

And Chan screams. It’s not horror movie screaming, not high pitched and loud, but guttural and so loud it’s quiet, so loud that no noise comes out other than choked syllables, and the wind carries all of it away, out over the ocean. It doesn’t help.

Wonwoo is still dead and Chan still has to pour what’s left of him into the ocean.

He removes the lid with shaky hands, and he holds out the urn in front of him, and he tries– he really tries to flip it over and let the contents out, but he can’t do it. He stands there with his arms stretched out in front of him until his muscles start screaming at him, and so instead he pulls the urn back and he sits down on the grass, cradling it in his arms.

If there were any tears left in him this is where he’d cry, but he’s cried so much that there’s nothing left. He chokes out dry sobs, and he screams again, and the wind takes all of it, and the ocean keeps crashing against the foot of the cliff, and nothing changes. Or it changes so slowly that Chan will never get to see it. Everything changes. Someone always leaves first.

Chan wishes he’d been the one to leave first. He doesn’t know how to do this. There isn’t even a reason. He wishes there was a reason.

He sits there for a long time before he finally gets back up and stretches his arms out again, and this time– this time he tips out the contents before he can think better of it. The ashes dump unceremoniously and ungraciously into the air and are carried off by the wind, out over the ocean, and it’s anti-climatic, and why is death so quiet? Why is being left behind so loud?

Chan storms back into the house and slams the door, and he puts the urn down carefully, and then he kicks the brick fireplace and possibly stubs his toe. He hobbles backwards until he stumbles into the bed, and he kicks his shoes off because he remembers how Wonwoo hated when he’d keep his shoes on inside, and he takes off his jacket because he remembers Wonwoo saying that he didn’t want outside clothes on his bed.

And Chan lies down in Wonwoo’s bed, and the sheets still smell like him, and he lies there alone until eventually he falls asleep. When he wakes up he’s still alone, and he’s not sure what time it is. It’s fine. No one’s expecting him to be at work anyway.

There’s not one bone or muscle in his body that isn’t aching. Why is death painless and being left behind so painful?

Why isn’t there a reason?

Re: [FILL] i’ll be brave

[fairytalenames]

thank you for making all of the bees buzz in my brain. there is really nothing more romantic and just genuinely caring than washing someone's hair and you really nailed that sentiment, I loved this.

[FILL]

[feralhoshi]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Seungcheol
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: panic attacks, eating disorders, jeonghan being emotionally constipated and seungcheol showing him it's okay to be vulnerable
Permission to remix: ask!

whew so sorry about the content of this one.

***

Jeonghan’s a firm believer of keeping his emotions to himself.

As one of the oldest, and thus being looked up to as a reliable hyung to their gaggle of misfits, he’s learned to tamp down the feelings that threaten to overflow, to burrow them deep down until they’re the last thing on his mind. He has better things to worry about anyways, like how much weight the company wants him to lose for the comeback, or putting his all into a dance move that would’ve put him on his ass a year ago. (And even still, present day, sometimes still puts him on his ass.)

That’s why, the first time Seungcheol breaks down in front of him in the studio, Jeonghan doesn’t know what to do.

It’s not a gentle sob, a little venting of frustrations, no. Seungcheol’s crouched down before him in a pathetic ball of tears, fingers buried uselessly in his bleach-fried hair. Jeonghan blinks dumbly, staring down at his shaking leader with one question on his mind.

Why me?

There’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that tells him to get to Seungcheol’s level and wrap him up in his arms, so he does. Seungcheol melts into his hold with a shuddering sigh that makes Jeonghan’s chest hurt, unfolding himself to cling to Jeonghan’s jacket, like he’s afraid he’ll leave. And, honestly, Jeonghan doesn’t blame him; Seungcheol’s head buried in his shoulder, muffling his sobs, makes a quiet part of him tense up with the urge to leave the room.

His cries eventually quiet down to the occasionally sob, tears staining the fabric covering his shoulder, and Jeonghan remains in his spot, vaguely aware of the ache in his knees from where he kneels. Seungcheol’s grip on his jacket eases up slowly, eventually releasing to scrub at his reddened, tear-streaked face. His arms leaving Jeonghan’s middle makes him hyper-aware of their position, sharing the same breath in their proximity, and Jeonghan nearly eats shit trying to stumble back to his feet.

Strong fingers curl around his wrist before he can get too far — the devil on his shoulder whispers about how his wrist isn’t thin enough, isn’t fragile enough in Seungcheol’s hold, that the diet isn’t working, and Jeonghan wants to scream — and Jeonghan stops, now looking down at their fearless leader who’s still recovering from sobbing himself hoarse into the crook of Jeonghan’s neck.

Neither of them exchange words, they don’t even look at each other. Jeonghan swallows thickly, wondering which one of them will be the first to break.

“Don’t run,” Seungcheol rasps, easing himself to his feet with more grace than Jeonghan could ever dream of possessing. His free hand brushes over Jeonghan’s jaw, guiding him to look him in the eye. His eyes are puffy and red, looking a bit pathetic in Jeonghan’s opinion, but something cracks behind his ribs all the same.

He looks like he wants to beg Jeonghan to spend the night in his apartment, keep him company through what Jeonghan’s sure is a restless night full of nightmares to come for his leader, but he must see something on Jeonghan’s face that begs him otherwise because he drops his hands, lips in a thin line. “Don’t run,” he repeats, firmer this time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeonghan says quietly, wincing at the venom in his tone.

Seungcheol scoffs, turning away to collect his things from the couch. “Never mind,” he bites out, and shoulders his way out of the room.

The next time Jeonghan’s privy to Seungcheol’s meltdown, they’re gathered in one of the company vans, having just returned from a promotional event. Seungcheol seemed fine during the event, if a little stiff, but Jeonghan was admittedly a bit distracted with the way the waistband of his slacks dug into his stomach, his brain insisting that they didn’t accidentally give him someone else’s pants, that he’s actually put on a horrendous amount of weight.

Jeonghan slumps against his seat with a sigh, popping the top button of his dress shirt. The flashing lights of expensive cameras and shouts of press left him with a throbbing in his temple, ready to shed his clothes and curl under his covers. He looks over his shoulder to where Seungcheol had crawled into the back, a comment on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t expect to see Seungcheol with his face buried in his hands, frame shaking like he’s trying and failing to even his breathing.

“Cheol?” he whispers, mindful of the partition separating them from their driver. The van kicks into gear, pulling away from the side of the street, and Jeonghan swears softly, catching himself on the armrest. It digs uncomfortably into his abdomen, reminding him of his earlier turmoil. “Hey, Seungcheol-ah, what’s wrong?”

Seungcheol doesn’t offer him a verbal answer, shaking his head with a trembling breath. There’s that question again. Why me? He doesn’t know what else to do besides watch Seungcheol make an effort to take slow breaths, chest rising and falling as he works himself through whatever it is he’s dealing with. Jeonghan bites his lip, gnawing on a patch of dead skin until he tastes iron.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol finally groans, rubbing at his face like he did all those nights ago. He lifts his head, revealing that he hadn’t been crying this time, but his eyes are red-rimmed and glassy like he’d been close, cheeks flushed.

Somehow, Jeonghan finds himself following Seungcheol to his apartment, and Seungcheol doesn’t question it. He gestures for Jeonghan to enter first, and lets him take the first shower too. Jeonghan hesitates, and Seungcheol must catch onto his concern, because he says, faint smile playing on his lips where he’s settled down onto the couch, “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Jeonghan feels that same hitch in his chest from before, and rubs at the space between his ribs with a frown. He shuts himself in the bathroom and doesn’t look in the mirror, washing himself clean of the day perfunctorily. His shower is a lot shorter than usual, and Jeonghan doesn’t think about it.

Seungcheols’s still on the couch when he comes out in borrowed pajamas that swallow his thin wrists and bony ankles, patting the seat next to him in an invitation. He holds a hand out that Jeonghan lays his own on top of without comment, letting Seungcheol brush his thumb over where his wrist protrudes the most, eyes downcast.

“I told you before,” Seungcheol murmurs, not meeting Jeonghan’s curious gaze. “Don’t run.”

“I’m not running,” Jeonghan says.

“There are some things we can’t help,” Seungcheol continues, like he didn’t hear him. “It’s okay to be vulnerable. I want to be there for you like you’ve been there for me, so please. Don’t run.”

Jeonghan frowns. Seungcheol stops touching his wrist, but he doesn’t take his hand back. “I’m not running,” he repeats tightly.

“Jeonghan-ah.” And, oh, there’s that shift behind his ribs again, threatening to drown him in an emotion that Jeonghan’s not strong enough to acknowledge now. Or maybe ever. “Let me be there for you.”

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Jeonghan huffs in mild annoyance, averting his gaze from the caress of their hands. He doesn’t offer a response, but Seungcheol seems to be pleased with his stubborn acceptance, giving his pale hand a squeeze.

“Why me?” Jeonghan finally asks, echoing the question that he’s been dying to know.

Seungcheol laughs softly, like what Jeonghan said is funny. Jeonghan wants to fuss at him for it, but Seungcheol just shakes his head, playing with Jeonghan’s fingers.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says, vague as all hell, and Jeonghan thinks he just might want to stick around long enough to find out.

Re: [FILL] bones and all

[almondtree]

doesn't it make it a thousand times worse knowing that that quote is a thing seungcheol really said like im insane really

Re: [FILL] left behind

[almondtree]

ohhhh my god okay this whole thing is so tiny and sad and gorgeous but i'm blown away by the detail of him finally dumping out the ashes and it being anti-climactic and clumsy and over in a second....and i am going to cry thinking of ww knowing he's dying and leaving this for chan so he'll have Something of him left! thank you for filling moony

like water, like air

[harbourdreams]

Ship/Member: Soonwoo
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: shared craving for freedom, shared sense of connection with the natural world; tbh i just like how these quotes mirror each other and i'm curious if anyone can make something out of it
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I started as a trainee at the age of 16 and I’ve been active as an idol till now, so I have a craving for freedom. During my debut and now, the reason why I like whales is because of the image of whales freely wandering around the wide sea. I often dream of taking a chance in a mysterious place where the overwhelming nature touches me. [...] I guess it’s because I’m a person with a lot of curiosity.

— Wonwoo 2022 Esquire, translated by wonwoosfeed. Paired with:

Q: If you were to be born again?
A: (I’d want to be) air. Without any restrictions, I’d like to live freely.

— Hoshi Carat Mag Vol. 11, translated by hoshzone.

diamond plated tension

[almondtree]

Ship/Member: any but i like to envision this with seungkwan
Major Tags: possibly nsfw
Additional Tags: i'm sorry i have no serious ideas i just think this song is really funny and i want to see someone do magic with it, maybe something silly with sk trying to make the first time having sex/trying a new sexy thing with his bf special but things keep going wrong
Do Not Wants: if you do go that route, please no unsafe sex or consent issues!

Prompt:

[We're pulling at each other like magnets / The rules are telling us to ignore them
Your moves, they're asking me for attention / Oh I'm losing it
No turning back once we're connected
No turning back once we're connected]

- Connected, by Bang Chan of Stray Kids

[FILL] safe place

[wonwoo420]

Ship/Member: jeongcheol
Major Tags: injuries/blood mention, apocalypse
Additional Tags:alexa play losing you by wonwo
Permission to remix: please ask

in the same universe as my jeongcheol fill from last years hols!! can be read on its own tho he he 👍👍

***
Seungcheol witnesses the crash in slow motion: he sees the desperate glint in Jeonghan's eyes, the first crack in the windshield until it flowers into a million pieces, the angry snap of Jeonghan's neck at impact. The wall collapses, taking with it the fence, taking with it the undead clawing at them from behind. He sees Junhui grabbing Soonyoung by his collar, away from the falling debris, Seokmin loosing an arrow prematurely in surprise, Chan yelling, watching the same crash.

When the dust clears, Seungcheol still can't move.

"Don't touch him!" he hears Wonwoo bellow at Chan, who's fighting stone and steel to get to Jeonghan. Wonwoo limps towards the car, there's a bloom of blood spreading across his thigh, but he perseveres through the path Chan and Seungkwan cleared. There isn't a door to open. Wonwoo grabs Jeonghan's unmoving wrist.

Seungcheol looks down. He doesn't want to know. Not when he's standing in the epicenter, trying to save everyone. Jeonghan had to save him. Jeonghan saved them all.

"There's no point in surviving this without you," Jeonghan told him once. The reverse is true, but Seungcheol can't remember if he made it known to Jeonghan.

"Seungcheol." It's Jisoo, draping an arm around his shoulder, half consoling, half in search of support. His other arm looks broken. "He's going to be okay, look."

Mingyu and Seokmin are pulling Jeonghan out of the car, with Wonwoo's calm directions. Jeonghan's face is cut up in so many places, but he looks like he's sleeping.

That's what snaps him out of it. Jeonghan should be yelling at him for being stupid right now.

They say your life flashes before your eyes in a near death experience, but all Seungcheol can think back to is their first date, before the world turned to shit, when Jeonghan invited him to his place, deposited him on the couch, and then slept on his lap. When they woke up the next day, both late for class, Jeonghan had never looked happier. He said he slept well for the first time in years. He didn't realize it until much later, but everything he's been doing is to bring back that hopeful, relaxed smile on Jeonghan's face.

He kneels beside the makeshift stretcher they've scrounged from their precious blankets, touches the inside of Jeonghan's wrist, wanting to feel for himself that he didn't lose him, that they can still escape from the city, build a place for themselves where they can grow their food and be safe and Jeonghan can stop sleeping with a knife under his pillow.

Seokmin wraps his hand around Seungcheol's, presses harder on tender, pale skin, until Seungcheol feels the faint beat underneath.

Re: [FILL] hotel room

[stickie]

I AM SCREAMING. THIS IS SO DELICIOUSLY HEARTBREAKING AND HURTS ME IN ALL THE WAYS. omg, i am dying DYING at:

Seungcheol likes him, sure. Likes him enough to fuck him in a hotel room at least. But not more than that. So he shouldn’t say Jeonghan’s name like he could love him.

/clenches fist/ I have no good words to use to say how much I adored this line. Everything I want in my bowl of angst soup to warm up my soul in the winter, pls. Thank you so much for writing ahhh

Re: [FILL] safe place

[moonlitmelodiesfic]

woah. woah woah WOAH. i was not expecting anyone to take safe place literally and put it into an apocalyptic setting, but i LOVE that you did. soooo effective at portraying that desperation in trying to protect your loved ones but knowing that you can’t, not in your circumstances. the devastation seungcheol felt. god. that hurt me.

and this line. how could you i am clutching my chest. “There's no point in surviving this without you," DHFJGKKG

and the last couple of paragraphs…i can’t articulate how i feel so just, ow.

thank u for this i feel like i’ve been punched in the solar plexus. i will be thinking about this <3

Re: [FILL]

[moonlitmelodiesfic]

dude. WHAT. i don’t even know where to begin. first of all, this jeonghan is EVERYTHING. his prickliness, his tendency to unconsciously run away. i love fic that latches on to the way jeonghan always seems to hide behind a facade and pretend he’s fine, and seungcheol coming to break down that mask is just UGH. so devastating.

so many lines made me want to run around the room and lie down at the same time. here are some faves:
That’s why, the first time Seungcheol breaks down in front of him in the studio, Jeonghan doesn’t know what to do.
-yes. absolutely. what do you do when the leader who’s always been tough for u, the leader who always seemed to know what he was doing, suddenly loses his way? it’s so disorienting and you nailed this throughout. the why me repeated throughout as well. gosh. the right thing to do (comfort) vs the parts of you that don’t want to do the right thing. so human. so painful.
Neither of them exchange words, they don’t even look at each other. Jeonghan swallows thickly, wondering which one of them will be the first to break.
-sobbing
“I told you before,” Seungcheol murmurs, not meeting Jeonghan’s curious gaze. “Don’t run.”

“I’m not running,” Jeonghan says.
-im not crying at all.

op you did so well. im stunned and pained by these two imperfect people relying on each other to stay somewhat unbroken. and the parts where jeonghan’s struggling with body image and weight…i just want to hug him.

thank u so much for writing this. i’m cradling this gently. <3

you haven't moved on so i can't either

[stickie]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: post breakup
Additional Tags: missing someone you shouldn't
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

So, I'm missing you already, I'm sorry
So, man am I missing you already... unfair, aren't I?
So you too should quickly become someone else's boyfriend
Before I wind up calling you...

- I've Become Someone Else's Girlfriend, by wacci

Re: [FILL] bones and all

[tenjouh]

he can taste the sickness in the blood as it smears between their mouths.

who else would ask wonwoo to love them?

you have way with words <3 thank you for writing this! honestly brought me so close to tears.

everything dies in the end

[stickie]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: love doesn't last forever no matter how hard you try to pretend it does
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

No matter how much
the spring wind love
the peach blossoms,
they still fall.
—Dogen Zenji