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

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i wake up crying, you're just in reach

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: reckless optimism, desperate hope, all tied to one person
Do Not Wants: major character death

Prompt:

You're like my yo-yo that glowed in the dark
What made it special made it dangerous
So I bury it and forget

But every time it rains, you're here in my head, like the sun coming out
Oh, I just know that something good is gonna happen
I don't know when, but just saying it could even make it happen

- Cloudbusting, Kate Bush

[REMIX] break my heart for what breaks yours

[hwarium]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Jeonghan, Jeonghan/Seungcheol, Seungcheol & Mingyu
Major Tags: Many Character Deaths, animal hunting + butchering
Additional Tags: same AU same tags + unrequited love conga line
Permission to remix: Yes

_{You said it was an open ending but when I read it there was only one ending and it went like this (2.2k):}

***

Mingyu is in love with Jeonghan. He’s in love with Jeonghan’s blond hair and smooth skin and bright eyes and red lips that pepper kisses on his forehead. Mingyu will go to the moon and back for him, and if Jeonghan asked, Mingyu would lay down and die for him.

Home is with Jeonghan, and Jeonghan knows best. He feeds Mingyu the best vegetables from his garden and always gives him the first taste of his latest brew. He cares about what Mingyu thinks about his creations, and Mingyu is only too glad to savour every drink and ponder over each feeling that blooms in his chest.

One day Jeonghan crosses his legs and beckons with his fingers. Mingyu strides over and drops to one knee.

“How may I help?”

Jeonghan smiles, “What’s for dinner Mingyu?”

Mingyu pauses, he was going to prepare the usual, “Stew and sourdough — was there something you had in mind?”

“It’s lacking a little substance,” Jeonghan hums, “Some meat perhaps. I am in the mood for rabbit.”

“Rabbit?” Mingyu blinks, “We don’t have rabbit.”

“Ahh, you’re so silly,” Jeonghan pokes him in the shoulder, “Mingyu, there are rabbits in the forest. And you’re good with a knife aren’t you?”

And Mingyu indeed, feels very silly and stupid. He is very good with a knife. He’s also very good with bows and arrows and other martial weapons. He’ll hunt down a rabbit for Jeonghan for dinner.

---

The meat is simmering in the vegetable stock, and Mingyu can still hear the frantic squeals ringing in his ears. He had found rabbit tracks by the river and followed the trail into the forest. Had spied a pair in the undergrowth and stalked the animal until he had a clear shot.

His first arrow pierced one in the leg and it released a shrieking cry, scampering away with a leg that sprayed blood across the soil. The other rabbit jumped and bolted, but immediately returned, running in desperate circles.

When Mingyu stood before them, the healthy rabbit did not move, and stood stoic over its collapsed partner. It stared up at Mingyu, and it’s clear, round eyes seemed to say, I will not let them die alone. Or perhaps it was —

I cannot live without them.

Whatever it was, Mingyu felt like it was a look he understood. From human to animal, empathy passed.

When Mingyu broke their necks and silenced the forest, all he could think about was Jeonghan’s happy smile and soft kisses.

The squeals rang in his ears as he skinned the carcass, blood running down his arms. It rang as he scraped the meat off the bone and cracked the joints into the broth. The sound continued to ring until Jeonghan bent over his shoulder, soft hair tickling Mingyu’s cheek, nose sniffing.

“That smells delicious! I can’t wait.” Jeonghan’s fingers ruffled Mingyu’s hair, “You did so well, just as I expected.”

Mingyu’s heart bloomed with pride. The noise cleared from his mind and he felt satisfied, accomplished, beloved.

---

After dinner, Jeonghan moved his chair so that he was next to Mingyu. Mingyu’s skin burned where their knees touched and he yearned to move even closer, so that he could feel more of Jeonghan against himself.

Jeonghan smiled and Mingyu watched the movement of those lips, wishing that he could feel their touch.

“There’s something important I want you to do for me,” Jeonghan tilts his head, “It’s a bit complicated but I can trust you, can’t I?”

“Yes, anything,” Mingyu replied immediately, back straight and ears open, eager to please.

Jeonghan’s eyes glittered.

---

“Mingyu? Is that you? Kim Mingyu?” a voice echoed across the courtyard, “Yah! Mingyu, where have you been, the whole palace has been looking for you—”

“Oh thank the gods, wait until —”

“Someone go and tell —”

There’s a flurry of movement all at once. Someone runs away, someone runs towards him and Mingyu is knocked back when a man barrels into him with open arms.

“You came back!” the man yelled into his ear, “Where were you.”

“I’m back,” Mingyu says, his mind supplies a name, “Seokmin.”

Seokmin lets out a choked sob and buries his face in Mingyu’s shoulder, “I was so worried, you just left and never came back and we weren’t sure if something happened to you or if you went over to the other side or if you were stuck somewhere waiting for us to —”

“Hey hey,” Mingyu pats Seokmin’s back, the motion comes easily to him, he wants to bend down and rub their foreheads together, the action feels halfway between a memory and a habit, like a play well-rehearsed. So he does exactly that and Seokmin’s mouth wobbles further.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Mingyu comforts, “How about you walk me to my room and we can catch up later?”

“What were you doing for a whole year?” Seokmin asks, “Oh, you’ll have to tell —”

“Later,” Mingyu says, rubbing Seokmin’s shoulder “Later.”

---

Mingyu knows why he’s here and he knows Jeonghan knows best but still, it hurts to be away from him for so long. He knows he must be patient but he can only think about Jeonghan’s smile, waiting for him after it all.

“You absolutely can’t remember anything?” a voice came from beside him. Mingyu looked over, it’s one of the court dancers, Minghao. Something in his chest flutters, like a warm breeze, but then his mind whirls back to Jeonghan, Jeonghan.

“Not much,” Mingyu lies, “I get flashes here and there, but it just feels out of reach. But I feel fine, just like my old self”

Minghao looked at him sideways, “You’re different though, to before.”

Before? What does Minghao mean, by before?.

Minghao continues, “Maybe you should visit the priests though, just in case. This doesn’t feel natural, maybe it’s something the gods have done.”

“Why are you here?” Mingyu asks, cutting through the conversation. He has something to do.

Minghao’s eyebrows furrow briefly, almost a wince. But his face smooths over again, “His highness will see you now, if you may.” Minghao steps aside, sweeping an arm out toward the open door.

Mingyu nods his head, “after you.”

---

“Kim Mingyu, in the flesh.”

“Seungcheol,” Mingyu breathes out. It’s Choi Seungcheol, his liege, his commander. If Minghao made his heart warm, Seungcheol sets it on fire. Mingyu wants to smile, he wants to leap forwards and capture him in a hug.

You can, a voice whispers, I allow you to.

Mingyu runs forward and Seungcheol meets him halfway. Mingyu squeezes so tightly he feels his back strain and his ribs tense. Seungcheol's hand cups the nape of his neck and Mingyu feels grounded, comforted, real.

"I'm so glad to see you," Seungcheol whispers, "When you disappeared without a word, I didn't know what to think."

Mingyu steps back, "I'm sorry, I know. There's a long story." His hand moves to the jug tied to his waist, “We should sit down."

“What is that?”

“Can’t come home without bearing gifts, you know me,” Mingyu grins, “Spiced wine from a trader’s fair in the south. Almost had to trade my horse but luckily the merchant accepted leather.”

Seungcheol laughs, guiding Mingyu to a seat, “So that’s where your armour went?”

Mingyu scratches his head sheepishly as he sets out two goblets on the table between them, unstopping the wine and pouring them two generous servings, “they were old anyway, I’ll get new ones refitted tomorrow. But first, let’s toast.”

“I know you, and you know me well,” Seungcheol grabs a goblet and raises it to the ceiling, “to your return, Mingyu, and to the damn-good story you’re going to tell me.”

“You better down the drink Seungcheol,” Mingyu picks up his own goblet, “Slow drinkers ride slow horses.”

Seungcheol scoffs with a smile, but they click their drinks and as Seungcheol moves the cup, he throws a wink at Mingyu over the rim and then he's throwing his head back in the way Mingyu knows so well.

As Seungcheol gulps down the wine, Mingyu watches, watches as the peak of his throat bob with every swallow. Good, very good. The wine is sweet and tart on his tongue but all Mingyu can taste is Jeonghan's kiss, Jeonghan's smile.

Seungcheol finishes his drink first with a satisfied smack, "Bloody fine wine this is, pour me another and get started on your story."

"Perhaps I would be better suited to tell it," a lilting voice carried from the window.

Seungcheol spins around "Who -"

It’s Jeonghan, elegant and backlight by the moon. He steps forward and floats to the floor, his wispy robes fluttering around him like a thousand butterfly wings.

"Remember me, Cheollie."

"Jeonghan," Seungcheol gasps, his hand bolts to the sword by his side, legs already in a battle stance. "GUARDS," he bellows.

"Oh, they won't be coming," Jeonghan states, "no one will."

"What?" Seungcheol exclaims, "Why - what did you do."

"I didn't do anything," Jeonghan strides forward until he was next to Mingyu, "It was all Mingyu, wasn't it."

"Yes Jeonghan," Mingyu answers. He had done what Jeonghan wanted him to, and poured the contents of certain vials into the palace drinking wells. It was very hard! He had to find it in the dark.

"Good boy," Jeonghan purrs, "Well done."

Mingyu's heart soars. He's a good boy, Jeonghan said so! The time spent apart was worth it because Jeonghan is happy with him.

"What did you do to my people Jeonghan," Seungcheol hisses, "What did you do to Mingyu."

"Your people," Jeonghan scoffs, "You should ask instead, what I have gained. Your people are my people now. I have an army that will die for me."

"You can not force my men to bend to your nefarious will."

"There's no forcing around here, isn't that right, Mingyu?"

Mingyu nods earnestly. Jeonghan is always right. But he’s getting confused with all this back and forth. What was done to him?

“How do you feel?” Jeonghan asks him, fingers curling through his hair.

“Like I love you,” Mingyu replies — and like all the times before, this gives him a beaming smile and a kiss. Except this time Jeonghan’s head does not turn when he kisses Mingyu’s forehead. His eyes are on Seungcheol.

"I am very kind," Jeonghan says, "you will find this is an army that loves me. They will gladly do what I say, and servitude will be the source of their own contentment."

"There is no honour in your methods," Seungcheol spits out, "I am the only one you want, there is no need to involve my men. What happened on Aeaea was only between us.”

“No need,” Jeonghan threw his head back and laughed, “When you sailed after making so many sweet promises? No need to involve your men? What is yours will be mine.”

“I did not promise you anything beyond what was already in the past,” Seungcheol says, “I was never yours Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan strides forwards, “You will be mine, Seungcheol. In fact, you already are.”

“No,” Seungcheol looks at the jug on the table, the empty goblet. Mingyu sees the moment Seungcheol’s eyes change, harden.

“Yes,” Jeonghan raises his hand towards Seungcheol, “Come to me, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol is still, and then slowly, he takes a step towards Jeonghan.

“Yes!” Jeonghan exclaims, “You love me now.”

Mingyu can hear the glee in Jeonghan’s voice. But there’s another voice inside him, one that says no, no. And deeper then, is another voice, one he can not hear.

“I … love…you,” Seungcheol drawls, shuffling towards Jeonghan.

No. Mingyu knows Seungcheol.

No. Mingyu loves Jeonghan.

And Mingyu said that he would —

Mingyu starts bolting across the room before anyone moves. He is behind Jeonghan just as Seungcheol moves his hand and he is pushing Jeonghan away just as Seungcheol brings the dagger up and deep into his chest.

Seungcheol’s beautiful eyes widen, “No. Mingyu, no!” His hand jolt open and he grabs Mingyu’s shoulders, “No no no, Mingyu, not you.”

Strange, Mingyu does not feel pain. But he does feel sleepy. His knees buckle and he feels an arm curl around his back.

Seungcheol whips to Jeonghan, “Save him.”

Jeonghan sounds stunned, “Impossible, I saw you drink. That was my strongest concoction.”

“Save him, Hannie, damn it!”

“I can’t,” Jeonghan stammers, “I don’t, I never —”

Mingyu is gently lowered down to the floor. His eyes are heavy so he closes them. He can hear Seungcheol’s foot stomping and Jeonghan’s choked gasp.

“Cheollie - please,” Jeonghan wheezes, “You love me, don’t you?”

“I did, once,” Seungcheol’s voice is hard, “I do not now. Love potions and erotic spells won’t work on a child of Aphrodite.”

Jeonghan sucks in a breath, “No. Back on Aenea —”

“I’m sorry, I could not tell you. It was my curse.”

“For me to fall in love with you?” Jeonghan laughs, “Was any of Aenea real?”

“That’s why I left,” Seungcheol says sadly, “It was not fair.”

“You loved me though?”

“I loved you,” Seungcheol affirms, “So I will make this painless.”

Mingyu hears the swish of a sword, and the soft crumble of a body. He feels the floor vibrate under his fingers and he wants to reach out, to feel a touch, the warm press of soft lips, the curve of a smile ready to spill praise. But Mingyu is so, so tired.

The last thing he feels are lips on his forehead, and then, he sinks into silence and darkness.

[FILL] a ghost is a wish

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Hoshi-centric
Major Tags: implied Major Character Death
Additional Tags: drunk!hoshi
Permission to remix: Yes

***

The legend goes something like this: hundreds of years ago, when tigers still roamed the mountains of Choson, a young man went out hunting and was killed by the very tiger he intended to slay. Death, however, was only the beginning. Cursed to an existence of slavery, the dead man’s ghost was forced to stay on earth instead of passing on; it wandered the land in search of an unsuspecting traveler, luring them to its side with the promise of a story worth their while.

What the traveler could not possibly know was that the ghost was working under the orders of its new master the tiger. It would tell the traveler enough of its tale to sufficiently distract them, but hearing the tale’s end would never be in their future: the story was but a cover to let the ghost discreetly call for the tiger and present to the beast its meal.

Only if it succeeded in its task of feeding the traveler to its master would the ghost be allowed to switch fates with its victim: the traveler, upon death, would become the next ghost to do the tiger’s bidding, and the dead young man would be free to move on to the afterlife and find peace at last.

“Bullshit,” Soonyoung slurs, slamming his glass down on the table. The sound startles Seokmin beside him; Soonyoung feels him jump in his seat. “Why does that bastard get peace?”

Across the table, Wonwoo frowns. “What, you want him to suffer as a ghost forever?” he asks. “That’s fucked up.”

“But he… he deserves it,” Soonyoung responds slowly. “He tried to kill a tiger!”

A beat passes. A grin grows on Wonwoo’s face. “Oh, is that why you’re offended? Because it was a tiger?”

“Tigers are…” There’s a word Soonyoung can’t remember. What’s the word he’s looking for? He searches the bar for an answer, and one of the lamps on the opposite wall catches his eye. It’s not what he was looking for, but it’ll do. He points. “They’re like that light!”

Now both Wonwoo and Seokmin are openly snickering. Jihoon, ever sober, raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re drunk,” he says matter-of-factly. “Already?”

None of them get it. “None of you get it,” he says. “He tried to fight the light. The light! You can’t just do that! Not without con– cons–” Gyeolgwa, he wants to say, but shaping the word has suddenly become impossible. “Anyway, you can’t do that.”

“It’s just a story, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says, and the conversation unravels, turning to other topics. Soonyoung tries at first to follow the thread, but the story still hangs heavy on his mind, so he lets himself follow that instead. If he ever went looking for a tiger, it would never be to hunt it. He would befriend it. He could do that. He has a tiger-print matching two-piece back home; he could wear it to visit the tiger. It would probably like that, right?

“Right?” he says out loud, turning to Seokmin on his left.

Seokmin just looks at him. Then he pokes Soonyoung’s cheek and pushes it so that he’s facing forward again. “Sure,” Seokmin says, drawing out the syllables, and pats Soonyoung affably on the back of his neck. “Whatever you say.”

Soonyoung reaches for his glass again, refills it, drinks. What if, all along, the tiger was just lonely? Why else would such a mighty creature curse the man to stay by its side, when finding prey couldn’t possibly have been difficult for it on its own? Maybe it wanted someone to talk to. Maybe everyone around it was too busy eating makchang and discussing future plans, analyzing their last concert and considering improvements for the next one, when all it wanted was for someone to listen to what it had to say.

He decides to befriend the tiger.

A couple of taps to Seokmin’s shoulder and he’s moving his legs, making way for Soonyoung to maneuver his own chair away from the table and step out. Someone from the other table—Jeonghan, maybe—calls out to him: “Where you going?” Then, when he gets no response: “Where’s he going?”

“Probably to take a piss,” someone else says, and then Soonyoung reaches the door and pushes his way through it.

The evening’s cool air assaults him, rendering him temporarily disoriented. Why’s he outside in the cold, when everyone else is still laughing in the warmth indoors? Somebody mentioned taking a piss. Was that him?

And then he remembers the word. “Divine,” he says out loud, elated. In the moment, he doesn’t even mind that he’s remembered it too late to make a difference. “Divine!”

He subsides and looks around him. The group is in Daegu, there to film an episode for Going Seventeen. Naturally, Seungcheol’s elated, and has been dragging as many of the members as he can round up to his favorite spots in the city whenever they’re free. If Soonyoung recalls correctly, Seungcheol mentioned a hiking trail on Mount Palgong, complete with trees and greenery and apples ready for the picking. Do tigers eat apples? He doesn’t know, but it’s the only place he can think of to look.

Soonyoung starts walking.

Minutes hours seconds later, he finds himself in the middle of a forest. Tall shadows loom above him on either side of the trail, the trees near-invisible in the darkness. How did he get here? He vaguely recalls a bus ride and a talkative passenger seated behind him, but he can’t be sure if the memory is a recent one. Soonyoung supposes it doesn’t matter; he’s here now, and he has some searching to do.

A short distance into his walk a thought occurs to him. He’s here in the name of friendship, but what if the tiger doesn’t want to befriend him? What if it deems him unworthy as a companion? It’s unlikely that will ever happen, but if it does, will the tiger kill him like it did all the others, except this time not keep him around?

Perhaps dying to a tiger’s bite isn’t the worst way to go.

The idea has only just crossed Soonyoung’s mind when he hears a voice, someone calling out to him from his right, from the other side of the railing: “Hey! Traveler!”

No matter how hard he squints, he can’t clearly make out the person standing there. Half-hidden in the undergrowth but beckoning him closer, the figure looks otherworldly, spectral. He wonders how they got over the fence separating the two, because the ground drops steeply beyond it; the jump can’t possibly be an easy one. As if able to hear his thoughts, the figure gestures to a part of the fence covered by leaves and says, “There’s a break you can walk through right there.”

Going over to it and pushing the leaves aside, Soonyoung realizes the figure was right. He looks up at them waiting for him. “Who are you?” Soonyoung asks.

The figure hums in thought before answering. “A stranger to you now,” it says at last, “but we don’t have to remain so for long.” And then the words he’s been waiting to hear ever since he learned of the myth: “Would you like to hear my story?”

Soonyoung smiles.

***

[based on the changgwi myth from korean ghostlore!]

[FILL] too funny to laugh about

[lachrymosy]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jun
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: miscommunication, ambiguously unhappy ending, canonverse
Permission to remix: Yes

***

[SEVENTEEN / ENG TRANS] COMEBACK SHOW
🐱 For me, I think it’s Wonwoo
🍊 Wonwoo is your ideal type?
🐱 What? I misunderstood the question!


Wonwoo finds Jun outside, sitting on a bench by the door that leads from the parking garage into the company building. He twists to look up at Wonwoo as the door latches closed with a soft beep.

“I misunderstood the question,” Jun says. “My Korean sucks. Sorry I embarrassed you.”

He turns back to face the rows of vans as Wonwoo sits down next to him. “It’s fine. You didn’t.”

An uncomfortable silence expands between them. Wonwoo’s gaze falls on a smear of makeup at the corner of Jun’s sweater, and drags up to the side of his face. His make-up has started to separate a little, revealing the faintest five o’clock shadow. His hair hangs over his eyes, obscuring them from Wonwoo’s view.

“The fans will go crazy for it,” Jun says, laughing a little.

The sound buoys Wonwoo, and he knocks his shoulder into Jun’s. “You always have good instincts for shows,” he says.

After the recording ended, Jun had avoided him, sticking closer to Minghao than usual and grinning without faltering, like he had something to prove. Wonwoo fears he might be arrogant to think it had anything to do with his gaffe, but. He thinks that.

He wishes he knew what to say, though. He swallows, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but his mouth is dry.

Jun leans back and rests his head against the concrete wall. His hair, stiff with hairspray, poofs up behind his head. “Minghao asked me if I was serious. Isn’t that funny?”

Wonwoo shrugs. What he’d give for a beer or a cigarette, even though he quit, but just—something to do with his hands right now. “I don’t think it’s funny.”

Jun barks out a laugh and turns on the bench, pulling up one knee and resting his chin on it. “You’re just trying to be nice,” Jun says with a toothy grin. “It’s hilarious!”

Wonwoo searches Jun’s face for any betrayal of hurt feelings, but finds none. His smile shines brightly, a laugh twitching at the corners, and his eyes twinkle with amusement.

Oblivious to the silence, Jun keeps talking. “I mean, you’re not even my type. And you know what they say, don’t sit where you shit or whatever.”

“Don’t eat where you shit,” Wonwoo corrects.

Jun looks at him sidelong and laughs again. “Right. Exactly. See what I mean? We’re not even compatriable.”

Wonwoo bites his tongue to keep from correcting him—it’s close enough. The meaning is clear; Jun doesn’t think the compatibility is there. The one time they’d kissed they’d been drunk, anyway, and it was as a joke—wouldn’t it be funny if we kissed right now—though Wonwoo has never been able to figure out the punchline.

Wonwoo unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, like you said, the fans will like it.”

“I’ll have to think about what to say,” Jun continues, “If they ask me about it when I go live. Are you going back inside, by the way?”

“Yeah, I’ll follow you in a minute.” Wonwoo answers.

Jun hesitates, kicking his feet back and forth against the concrete. He looks like he wants to say something. Wonwoo can’t think of any words, but he wishes Jun would.

Finally, Jun gets up and goes back into the building. Wonwoo is left alone.

He leans his head back against the wall. Maybe he’s been the butt of this joke all along.

Re: [FILL] Apple of My Pie

[citrinecowboy]

😘😘😘😘😘

Re: [FILL] burn it down

[lachrymosy]

ahh thank you so so much for this lovely comment! I'm so glad you enjoyed it and so appreciated reading your thoughts <3 I may do a series of interconnected oneshots eventually with this!

Re: [FILL] burn it down

[lachrymosy]

Ahh thank you so much!! I'm so grateful you found them to be in-character; I think it's always especially challenging for me when writing an au!! So glad you enjoyed this <3

Re: [FILL]: troika

[almondtree]

IM OBSESSED let me go leave a real comment on ao3 but i love this

[FILL] holy doves and dynamite

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Seungcheol
Major Tags: Graphic depictions of violence (typical of old Western outlaw stories)
Additional Tags: rated E, cowboys au, svt as an outlaw gang, train robbery, love as devotion, religious tones, a cameo from lee taemin because why not, aftermath of violence, actual violence, gun violence, dynamite blows up, (you get the picture), bottom mingyu if that's an issue for you, keep your cowboy hats on and your expectations low folks
Word Count: 2.6k

I suppose I might as well go for 5 aus at this point, huh?

thank you for this prompt, this is one of my favorite songs <3

yeehaw everybody

Re: [FILL] a ghost is a wish

[cruelsummers]

oh WOW this is amazing? the beginning with the story and then how it concludes... it was just so well crafted with the right amount of tension in an otherwise lighthearted scenario... until you realize that hoshi is really in the woods and you go 'oh shit.' hoshi you are SO HOSHI (wanting to befriend the tiger) thank you so much for this delicious snippet!

[FILL] and the end of the world would be so lovely

[hwarium]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan-centric (as your majesty wishes)
Major Tags: themes of depersonalisation/derealisation
Additional Tags: idolverse, do we let the intrusive thoughts win, emotionally this is 2019 Jeonghan
Permission to remix: Yes (always)
(1.4k)

***

He’s fighting with Mingyu about a ransom. Mingyu thinks ransoms should always be paid. Jeonghan thinks there is no guarantee criminals would cooperate. Jeonghan thinks paying would enable more crime. Mingyu thinks if there’s a chance of salvation, it’s worth it. Jeonghan thinks Mingyu is naive, Mingyu thinks Jeonghan is paranoid.

A hypothetical ransom. But he’s fighting with Mingyu about a hypothetical ransom in the living room and it’s been an hour and they’re still going. They stood up 15 minutes in, and are still standing now, yelling and snarling at each other’s throats. The others have retreated, cleared the living room and only venturing out in quiet desperation. Jeonghan had spied Seokmin slinking to the kitchen for water, knees bent and shoulder pressed to the wall.

Jeonghan is being rational about this. He tried to accept Mingyu’s points, work with his perspective. It’s Mingyu who refuses to concede. Refuses to see that he’s wrong but most importantly, how his well-wished intentions are causing more harm than good.

He gets moments of lucidity during this argument, like now, when Jeonghan thinks about how it must look to everyone else. How different he must look and sound, fingers jabbing, tongue sharp and praying for a wound.

All this noise over a hypothetical ransom.

Jeonghan will make up for it tomorrow. Fanservice as repentance.

---

They don’t reach a compromise. Halfway through a counter-argument, Jeonghan’s throat closes on him and Joshua takes the chance to swoop in and pull him away for dinner.

---

Tomorrow he tells Mingyu that he loves him, in front of a thousand people. He grins and leans a little too close, stretches his throat in a way that he knows Mingyu can not resist looking. And he knows, that moment will be captured by a fansite and uploaded to the internet by this evening.

Jeonghan can guess the story that they will tell. Extrapolating the proxemics, the gazes, their facial expressions.

Jeonghan doesn’t say sorry, but he does let the world know that he loves Mingyu.

---

Jeonghan gets moments of lucidity that feels like an intrusive thought. He’s doing an online fansign, answering nonsensical what-if questions about an imaginary date. His mouth knows the answer, he’s answered this before, is pretty sure that answer was recorded and circulating online — but as he says it and forces his mouth into a smile he is thinking — there’s a war in Ukraine — I don’t have a university degree — Wonwoo’s mother is in hospital.

“As long as my date is happy I’m happy, but good food is also important~”.

He does a buing-buing followed by hannie-hannie-hae! with rabbit ears. And he feels his soul leave his body.

Hah, not exactly. But one moment Jeonghan is doing aegyo at a phone on a tripod, and the next second he feels something detach, and he is looking down at himself doing aegyo.

He watches his mouth move and he hopes that whatever is left in his body knows what to say. He can guess the questions, he knows the best answers — and they often aren’t true.

Jeonghan watches himself blow kisses at the tiny screen. He watches Soonyoung do the same thing next to him. Behind the phone are rows of staff, laptops open, clipboards ready, earphones in. A voice in his head sings how many died in Itaewon — you missed your mother’s birthday — are you saving enough for retirement.

The Jeonghan below blurs out of focus and the noise squeezes down to a muffled whimper. A part of him wants to go back down, there’s an anxiety when he thinks about how his answers may not be perfect, with part of him floating up here. He worries that the fansign will be awkward, flat, insincere. A part of him needs to be in control, to make sure what is seen is beautiful.

A part of him says -

what does it matter.

---

Concerts feel like a lucid dream that he’s trying to wake from. From the moment thirteen hands separate, Jeonghan feels locked to his body and locked out of his mind. Songs meld together. He blinks and his costume has changed. He remembers singing but it feels like an imagining of someone else’s story.

Later, he’ll try to recall his performance but he can only see it in third perspective, from the angle of a fancam. He’ll see himself pour water on Seungcheol, slap Joshua, poke Seungkwan’s cheeks.

Later, there will be another camera and another microphone and someone asking him how he feels.

I’m happy that I was able to show our carats a lively performance - I hope you all had fun!

He’ll hop off before they catch him and later, later, he will come by again, and watch Wonwoo measure out his words and pour them onto the table like spring water. Jeonghan will watch Wonwoo pause and reflect (oh to think on camera, what a concept) and pull out the most honest words, the truest words, and Jeonghan will think:

How can you bare yourself, and not be destroyed.

His own feelings feel like coins at the bottom of a black pool. Jeonghan knows they are there, but he does not know what they look like or how heavy they are in his palm. He just knows that reaching them would mean drowning.

---

When you look up idol in the dictionary, the first definition is this:

idol (noun)
a representation of a god used as an object of worship

Jeonghan thinks that’s about right. Idols are loved because they represent something better than themselves. They are worshiped not for their own merit, but for the image held by their worshippers.

---

Jeonghan imagines himself going to heaven, in the way Joshua describes: choir music, gentle ascension, pearly gates. An old white man will ask him, why do you deserve to get into heaven and Jeonghan would think I don’t but his mouth will point to all his good deeds and his infinite kindness and caring words.

Jeonghan could point at his life, almost every day on the public record, with some moments from a hundred angles. He could point at tweets that tell the world about how kind he is, how caring, how professional.

But the old white man, with his holy omniscience, will look down at Jeonghan, over his big book of human lives, over his snowy white beard and clean white robes, and say I know what you were really thinking and it’s your thoughts that matter.

There is no space in heaven for you

---

Jeonghan wants to be as stubborn as Junhui, he wants to say no sometimes, to stomp his feet and insist on his way. Sometimes he tries, pokes at Chan’s ego and fishes the maknae into an argument but then he hates the look in Minghao’s eyes that mean why don’t you just let it be, you’re the hyung.

He hates it when Seungcheol asks him out to beers. Because he will say yes, because Jeonghan knows that Seungcheol craves emotional connection, worships the intimacy between people when they are tipsy and touching. The only way he can say no is to let Seungcheol’s calls ring, not pick up, and pretend that he is not guessing the end of every conversation when they meet.

Jeonghan feels the safest in his own room, away from cameras, away from gazes, away from the need to perform.

But within the world, he feels the safest when Yoon Jeonghan takes over with his perfect answers and perfect faces, and just Jeonghan floats away to the back.

And when that happens, it feels like a state of grace, of purgatory on Earth and salvation in a camera. When he lets the thoughts and deeds of impulsive, gremlin Jeonghan wash away with the stage lights, and every dance is an act of worship, every touch an act of repentance for who he is.

---

<sub>Thank you for reading! Twig, you know you got me with this, I started writing immediately, paused, then spitefully started when ester posted that she was also looking at this, and stopped again. Because the phrase is so beautiful on first read but on consideration, it was such a challenge to imagine what it /meant/ to give your body to the world and then walk away from it - to want to walk away from it. (a la Siken quote, throw sadness into river but you're left with the river and your hands.

Jeonghan living for others was something I've explored elsewhere, but that Jeonghan was one who was painfully /within/ his own body. Thank you for stretching my brain so good, and happy 17hols!</sub>

the body I was given vs the body I wanted

[hwarium]

Ship/Member: Any (consider:lesbian jihoon)
Major Tags: source text contains some body dysmorphia + has mature themes
Additional Tags: online relationships, when online personas are more real than reality, honesty in anonymity
Do Not Wants: None - please feel free to take the source text and run

Prompt:

For me, as a genderfluid person who grew up on zines and Livejournal, there’s something sentimental and electric about these word-first interactions. It’s a thrill to build my body from scratch, to write it into being. Text—interpellation—is a powerful means of gender affirmation, and fucking with the body I write can feel more profound than fucking with the body I was given

- Jinhua Qian, Sexting at the End of the World

love as a dilution and refraction

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: ok MINWON???? or WONHAN??? or any yearner in hhu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: unreturned love, pining from the outside, bittersweet au maybe, tbh take this wherever u want to go i just got punched in the gut by this
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

What is love if you get it secondhand? Is it a fact or merely a detail?

— Brandon Taylor, All About My Mother (incl. in What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About)

but love is memory

[millionrmb]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: break ups/getting back together, (when you're broken up but were never really together), complicated/ambiguous relationships... consider: literal memory loss (scifi, eternal sunshine?)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember
It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender
And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning
I never know what to think about

I think about you

The 1975 — About You

[thembocollector]

Ship/Member: Any, although if you end up w/ gyuhan i will repay u somehow !!
Major Tags: non-idol universe; modern setting
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: character death

Prompt:

Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
- A Supermarket in California; Allen Ginsberg

[FILL] decision to leave

[st8rgazer]

Ship/Member: wonwoo/chan, chan-centric
Major Tags: mention of future death, mentions of suicide
Additional Tags: canon divergent, time travel, post disbandment, grief (# mourning the past & mourning the future), hurt/comfort, tw/ mentions of suicide, introspection, character study
Permission to remix: yes!
(2.2k words)

hi... this took me 4 whole days to write... & it's way too long but i haven't played with a concept like this ever and it was really cool to do! i loved this quote but i had no idea what or who to write for it, and then this was born.

to op: thank you so much for this prompt! happy new year & i hope u enjoy this <3
& also: dedicated to karina for telling great stories always

***

[March, 2012]

There has not been a time in Chan’s life when he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his future — who he wanted to be, and by extension, the people he wanted to be surrounded by.

The first time Chan had walked into that god-awful green practice room, it had been empty. The large mirror extending all the way across one wall showed him only his reflection. He stares and stares. He’s young still, eyes full of hope, clothes neat and new — sparkling.

He hears voices coming from outside, hears the click of the door as it’s about to open and spins around to greet the people he is going to spend all his time with from now on.

Only for it all to fall away.

He’s in another practice room. The floors are sturdier under his feet now, the wall across from him is still covered by mirrors.

He is still young, still in the same clothes he was in just a moment ago.

Chan had stared at himself in that big new practice room for what felt like hours, until he started blurring at the edges, vision going foggy.

And then he’s back in that green room, still spinning around as trainees flood in as if time had stilled for the few minutes he was gone. Chan shakes away the confusion and starts greeting them one by one.

/

[May, 2026]

Chan wakes up to a text from Wonwoo, asking to meet up.

It’s late in the morning because Chan still follows the same routine he did when he was a member of SEVENTEEN on a day without a schedule. He doesn’t have schedules anymore, anyway, because he’s no longer the Future of K-pop — Dino.

He wakes up at 10 am and starts brewing his daily barley tea as he brushes his teeth. He takes his probiotics — a habit Seungkwan instilled in him that has yet to die.

He’s standing by the stove waiting for the tea to finish brewing, the toasty scent filling his senses as he scrolls through his phone. A notification pings and Chan’s eyes slide to the top of the phone. He stares at 17’s Wonwoo Hyung until the notification disappears.

He’s not drunk enough for this.

He pours his tea into a mug and cleans the teapot as he waits for it to cool. The kyusu had been a gift from Minghao for his twenty-fourth birthday, almost three years ago now. Chan was obsessed with green tea — to cleanse his body of bad toxins, back then. It’s a beautiful cream colour, small enough to brew tea for just one person.

He rinses the clay pot under warm water for longer than necessary, one eye trained on his phone the entire time.

/

[3rd September, 2024]

It didn’t happen for a few months after that first time, but Chan never gets used to travelling to the future, no matter how many times it’s happened. It’s not something he can control either. Time steals and is stolen from him periodically, again and again, pushing him into the future with no concern for what will happen if Chan decides to change things.

It’s a terrible thing to know what awaits you, the beauty of fate slipping right through your fingers like water. It’s an even worse thing to witness what Chan does this time.

He isn’t there as it happens, but slightly further in the future, in late 2025, when autumn leaves are falling off the trees leaving them naked and bare to the winter cold. He arrives in a future where every major news site is reporting on the untimely death of Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan, a world where Jeonghan has ceased to exist.

Chan is stuck in that timeline, his future, for almost three days, although only moments would have passed when he goes back to his original timeline. He’s frightened, frantically trying to figure out what went wrong. It’s worse because he can’t speak to anyone, no one can see or hear him when he goes to the future.

His phone doesn’t work, as usual, and he spends hours in a PC bang poring over articles and threads on how Jeonghan died — many suspect that he’s committed suicide.

He looks through months worth of their content — Weverse lives and Going Seventeen episodes and social media posts.

It’s a terrifying thing to know what will happen even though he hasn’t lived it yet, heart-wrenching to find out what has happened for him to land in a time where there is no turning back.

All alone in his room, Chan cries for hours when he comes back. He thinks of all the posts and interviews he’d watched, the comments all spewing nonsense, every other comment a hate message directed towards Jeonghan. Being in the public eye, it would be more of a surprise if they didn’t receive any backlash at all, but nothing could have prepared him for whatever he saw in that future.

In the end, the decision is not hard to make.

Further cemented every night as he dreams of those few days he’d spent in that horrible future. Seungkwan kisses his shoulder awake most nights as he trembles from the aftereffects of it.

Their contract ends in a few months anyway.

It’s not a hard decision to make at all, especially if his one choice can prevent everything he had witnessed.

/

[May, 2026]

Wonwoo texts him again as he’s leaving for the gym. A simple It’s not nice to ignore your hyungs, but Chan disregards it. He is terrified of facing them, even after almost a year has passed. They’ve all kept in touch but Chan had tried his best not to, scared of looking into their eyes and seeing something accusatory.

Wonwoo doesn’t text Chan again, and the notification collects dust on his screen until the end of the day when Chan finally picks up his phone and reads the message.

He could just ignore it, even though he knows he shouldn’t, it would be easier to ignore it. But — he replies, texts Wonwoo back.



It’s been a few months since Chan has last seen Wonwoo. Months since he saw any of the members, really. Texts still pop up sporadically in the group chat they still have, but the wound is still too raw. It hurts when exposed to the weather, to the wind and the heat of the accumulated pain of thirteen people. Even more, if he counts every secondary person his decision has hurt.

Wonwoo waves Chan over as soon as he sees him walk into the bar. The lights are dim and Chan is grateful, at least this way he’ll be spared from seeing all the horrible unsaid things in Wonwoo’s eyes.

Chan lets Wonwoo order both of them, choosing to study Wonwoo’s profile as he does. He looks just like he did the last time Chan saw him. Light acne bumps are visible now under the shadows of the lights. His glasses are still the same horn-rimmed ones he’s been using for years, and his hair is healthy too, the damage from the constant dyeing and bleach having grown out and cut off.

Wonwoo looks good — great even, amazing. He looks like he has his shit together, like he’s doing well away from the public eye — like he doesn’t need to be a member of Seventeen for his life to have meaning.

But Seventeen is all Chan had — has. His skills and tenacity don’t matter if he’s not by his hyungs’ sides. But time only steals from Chan, and he can’t turn it back, can’t unmake his decisions, and he can never go back to what they had.

Wonwoo is smiling at him, gentle gaze piercing through his soul like it doesn’t matter that Chan fucked them all over.

“You finally decided to show your face, huh,” Wonwoo laughs. His nose scrunches up the same way it always has, and Chan suddenly can’t breathe.

Almost a year since Seventeen disbanded, and it finally dawns on Chan.

Chan bows his head — to hide the brunt of his shame, for some semblance of an apology. He is grateful at least for Wonwoo’s silence as he weeps, fat teardrops falling onto his thighs, seeping into the fabric covering them.

He is still staring at his thighs when Wonwoo’s hand comes into view. It’s a startling kind of warmth Chan hasn’t felt in a while, a touch from someone who knows you, knows what you need. These touches used to flow freely between the thirteen of them. He remembers Joshua’s hand on the back of his neck and on his head as he ruffled Chan’s hair. Jeonghan’s gentle shoves, the warmth of his body as he draped himself all over Chan. And Seungkwan’s fond lips on his hands, and shoulders. His lips dragged away slowly as if he couldn’t bear to part with Chan’s skin.

Wonwoo rubs his knee, and through his blurry vision, Chan watches Wonwoo’s hand stroke circles into his skin. The light catches on his pinky and glitters — Wonwoo still wears the ring.

This is even worse, Chan thinks because as much as time has stolen from Chan, Chan stole from them too.

He hears the waiter come back and set their drinks down on the table. Wonwoo murmurs a quiet thank you, rubbing Chan’s knee all the while. But Chan can’t look up, cannot drag his eyes away from that ring Wonwoo still wears, the one Chan no longer wears. His eyes slide to his own hand, the slight indent that is still there if he squints hard enough. It used to be paler than the rest of his skin, the promise burned into his own body.

But time passed, and the skin saw the sun and skies for the first time in over ten years. The indent lifted, leaving Chan with only the memory of the cool pressure that used to be a constant against his skin.

Chan’s eyes are so swollen he can barely keep them open, but Wonwoo sighs out a laugh and asks him to close his eyes. Chan feels the cool press of a glass against his eyes, still for a few moments before moving on to the other eye.

When Chan opens his eyes again, Wonwoo is studying the glass with mild amusement, “Yah, your face made my drink all warm,” he says with faux annoyance. His eyes slide back to meet Chan’s and there is nothing there — nothing Chan expected at least. His eyes are open, gentle waves crashing against the midnight shore.

Chan manages to smile this time, sliding his own glass toward Wonwoo as an offering.

They’re slow with the drinks, ordering ridiculously overpriced sides to absorb the alcohol instead. The conversation feels stilted and wrong, words and laughs are no longer exchanged as comfortably as before. It’s nice, nonetheless, to be in the company of someone you share history with. Countless hours spent together learning about each other doesn’t go away just because you don’t talk for a few months.

Chan yearns for it, that easy flow of conversation as they speak. Drunk on their feelings instead of alcohol.

“How’s your family?” Wonwoo asks. A glance at him shows that he has his chin balanced precariously on his palm, intent gaze on Chan’s face. Chan goes back to tracing patterns on the tablecloth.

“They’re fine.”

“Really? My father mentioned that he spoke to your mum recently,” Wonwoo mentions.

Chan stops tracing patterns into the tablecloth. Their parents still keep in touch too, Chan knows this, but knowing something and getting confirmation is like a sucker punch to his gut.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Wonwoo straighten up, “She’s worried about you and your dad.”

Wonwoo waits, but when Chan shows no sign of responding, he sighs and shifts closer.

“You always did shine the most on stage, Lee Dino,” Wonwoo says.

Chan scoffs, “You’re rubbing salt in my wound, hyung.”

“We all have the same wound, Chan-ah,” Wonwoo replies, “you can’t leave it to fester for too long, you’ll get hurt.”

He bumps their shoulders together, jostling Chan out of his position enough so that they’re leaning against each other, Wonwoo slants his head against Chan’s shoulder. Chan leans further into his space, resting his head against Wonwoo’s own.

Wonwoo speaks up after a long while, his words vibrating through Chan’s skull so he feels them travel through his body.

“You aren’t the type to give up so easily — it took me some time to come to terms with it, but you must have had your reasons, Chan-ah.”

He takes Chan’s silence as permission to continue, “It’s hard, right?”

Tears prick dangerously at Chan’s eyes, of course, it’s hard. It’s the most difficult thing to go through, and even though he would never go back to undo it, it hurts so much.

“Just trust yourself the way we trust you, Chan-ah.”

/

Chan is cleaning the practice room he rents before his evening class starts when he hears the pattering of his students’ feet outside the door. He turns to greet them with a great big smile when it happens.

He’s in a practice room again, mirrors encapsulate the entire room this time. In the middle, the thirteen of them are in a single line, mic stands in front of them.

Chan steps forward, reaching out for this future he has wanted so desperately– when everything falls away again. He shakes it away and starts greeting his students as they stream in.

He can wait.

[FILL] reach inside

[thembocollector]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Soonyoung
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: love is a never-ending loop of Concern, domesticity
Permission to remix: Yes

ao3 link here!

***

It was almost dawn.

Wonwoo's glasses were illuminated by the blue light of his gaming tower's water cooling system. (Wonwoo once had made a valiant effort to try and explain its intricacies to Soonyoung, who had simply stared at him in response. No use, then.)

"You're not tired?" Soonyoung scrolled through Instagram for the fifth time in about three minutes; having closed and reopened the app multiple times. He'd even set a time limit on his phone so that he'd be unable to access the app, but, out of sheer boredom and frustration, decided to disable the function instead.

Woonwoo hummed. "I'll go to bed in a bit."

"You always say that," Soonyoung replied. This was somewhat true. He'd have exhausted the remnants of whatever caffeine was lingering in his system by then. Or, as Wonwoo liked to remind him, somewhat tetchily, Nobody Should Have Three Coffees In A Day, to which Soonyoung replied with, Suck My Balls.

"Where are we going tomorrow?"

"Don't deflect the bed-shaped elephant in the room," Soonyoung said.

"I am not deflecting the bed-shaped elephant in the room," Wonwoo replied. Someone died on-screen. It was decidedly not Wonwoo's character.

Soonyoung stifled a yawn before giving in. His jaw clicked.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Soonyoung replied, yawning again.

"I'm nearly done," Wonwoo said.

"Take your time." Soonyoung's voice was soft.

***

Soonyoung liked to light candles before going to bed. Tonight's candle featured strong notes of amber and musk.

"You're going to set something alight, if not yourself," Wonwoo said, frowning, as he crawled into bed, bone-tired.

"Yeah, yeah," Soonyoung said, his voice thick with sleep.

Wonwoo reached over, so that his body brushed against Soonyoung. "Let me extinguish the flame real quick."

Soonyoung hmmed in assent. "What's for breakfast tomorrow?"

"We just had dinner not too long ago."

"Is it a crime for me to ask what's for breakfast?"

"No," Wonwoo said, and Soonyoung could hear his smile, even with his eyes shut. "No, it isn't."

Soonyoung could smell freshly-brushed teeth—spearmint this time round, since they had run out of their typical peppermint. He opened his eyes momentarily, so that he could face Woonwoo. He studied the way his jaw was tense, even before bed. The way Wonwoo still wore glasses to bed.

"You're going to bend those, you know," Soonyoung said.

"I have four more pairs."

"I know, but."

Wonwoo sighed and removed his glasses. Soonyoung strained his ears to listen to the quiet thud they made on the bedside surface. "Better now?" Wonwoo said.

"Yes, actually," Soonyoung said, leaning in for a kiss.

Re: [FILL] a ghost is a wish

[svteen]

tysm! v glad u enjoyed it <3

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

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