Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
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.
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a weathered shape
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
âfrom Alone With You in the Ether
[FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Post break-up
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
âAnd did you get everything you wanted?â
Minghao snaps his focus back to the present, caught off-guard. âYes,â he affirms automatically. âYes, I did.â
Mingyu snorts to his champagne flute, gold band on his ring finger molten in the sunlight. âYouâve become so agreeable,â he remarks in disbelief.
Their newly wed mutual friend in the center of the venue has an arm around her husbandâs side, other hand holding the knife with him to cut the cake. Minghao returns her smile when they briefly make eye contact. Theyâd all clamored over Mingyu in the down time between the ceremony and reception with the woes of wedding planning, and Minghao had watched as he took their overbearing advice graciously with a winning smile from the sidelines. âAnd youâve become so sure of what you want,â replies Minghao in stride, âOn your way to married life.â
âBut have you everââ Mingyuâs jaw sets, stubborn, as he cuts himself off. âI knew you wouldâve said no if I asked.â
âBut you never asked.â
âYou told me to stop being desperate!â Mingyu bursts out. He lowers his voice when the group of bridesmaids turns to look at them. âWhat was I supposed to do, let myself keep getting hurt from all your rejection?â
âNo,â Minghao admits staring straight ahead. Everyone around them starts clapping at something they hadnât been paying attention to. Mingyu joins in absentmindedly while Minghao continues, âI donât have everything I want.â
âWhat?â Mingyu applauds five beats longer than the rest of the crowd.
âBut youâre still too impressionable,â Minghao elaborates. âThatâs why we broke up, remember?â Just then, a waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres utilizes the space between their shoulders and cleaves them in two.
***
Some time after the break up, Minghao was sitting across from Junhui at the same hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant theyâd been going to for years, eating the same dishes they always ordered and pecking at the pickles the owner always piled high for them for free with their chopsticks when Junhui pointed out suddenly, âHao Hao, you donât realize youâve changed?â
Minghao looked up from the work email heâd been skimming on his phone. âWhy do you ask that?â
Junhui only smiled, sheepish and curling in on himself over his bowl of noodles. âBecause you have.â When Minghao didnât reply, he added, âYou regret ending things with him.â
âI donât regret cutting off a relationship before we both got irreparably hurt from it, if thatâs what you mean,â was Minghaoâs canned response. âAnd Mingyu didnât know what he wanted. You know it's dangerous, not knowing what you want. That's how people get taken advantage of."
Junhui placed the last radish on Minghaoâs plate gingerly. âYou say that only because you think you have to say it.â It was even worse, knowing what you wanted but knowing it was never possible the way you dreamed it to be.
***
Mingyu calls him a week after the wedding. âI just have to understand,â he stammers as soon as Minghao picks up the line, âWhen you said you didnât have everything you wanted. Did you mean â shit, this is so stupid, I just⌠I think Iâm reading too much into this, but did you mean me?â
Minghaoâs heart is beating in his throat. âMingyu, this isââ
âMyungho,â Mingyu interjects like heâs afraid Minghao will hang up at any time, âI donât think Iâve stopped loving you.â A dangerous hope shakes in his voice. âSo if you still love meââ
When they were still together, itâd become a running joke that Mingyu was always bombarding him with a never-ending stream of questions, most of which Minghao answered to with some version of no.
âDonât you ever get tired?â Minghao asked once, half-laughing and apologetic. Mingyuâs thumb was rubbing against the cracked skin on Minghaoâs knuckles, dry from the winter. The touch was so tender it stung. âYou hear ânoâ more often than a cold call salesperson.â
âCongratulations on your engagement,â Minghao settles on, hanging up the phone right after. It buzzes with an incoming call less than ten seconds later, and again, and again, and again until it finally quiets like something on its dying breaths inevitably succumbing to the end.
Mingyu on that couch had peered up at him from where heâd been resting his head on Minghaoâs shoulder. âAll it takes is one yes to make it worthwhile,â he said, playing the part to a T with a full-canine smile that didnât quite reach his eyes.
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
âYou say that only because you think you have to say it.â god it's minghao to a tee I'm in pain
âAll it takes is one yes to make it worthwhile,â CRIES MINGYU. I HOPE HE'S HAPPY NOW EXCEPT HE'S CALLING UP HIS EX TO CHECK IF HE STILL LOVES HIM WHEN HE'S ALREADY ENGAGED SO PROBABLY NOT [lies face down on the floor forever]
thank you for my pain
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Minghao continues, âI donât have everything I want.â
âWhat?â Mingyu applauds five beats longer than the rest of the crowd. my favorite line and then of course in the end is the same thing mingyu also latches onto⌠using junhui as a foil to minghaoâs belief that it was simple but also an act of necessity to break up like T__T wow i love you descriptions n the bleakness but also the way you choose your words. thank you for writing
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
Re: [FILL] i will have you know â my swan song will not be my last
[FILL] i wanna see you (but you're not mine)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, no one really knows what they are, every day things as metaphor
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
There's a mishapen mug sitting by the granite countertop, a comma of sorts amidst the clean and straight lines of the kitchen. It sticks out like a sore thumb, with its handle askew and lop-sided rimâit would be a miracle if it can hold anything liquid without spilling. But things like these are valued not for its functionality but by the sentiments Wonwoo chooses to keep.
Wonwoo is like this house: clean lines, sharp edges, soft-closed doors and the single potted plant sitting by the foyer. There are no photos on the wall, the television untouched despite the contractor boasting how it's the most stylish unit and other âishes Wonwoo had tuned out of; there was a bed and a functioning bathroom, what else would he need?
But the mug is there and it's not Wonwoo's.
No, the mug isn't his and it sits collecting dust on the countertopâuntouched. Here time stands still, unchanging and suspended.
Wonwoo refuses to move it, he doesn't know if the decision had been conscious or if the days had just bled into weeks and the weeks to months until it became a permanent fixture in his kitchen, a statment piece if you will or a tombstone.
Here lies the remains of what could have been, what has been lost, what has been left.
Jihoon had given him a long look when he noticed the mug during one of this monthly visits to Wonwoo's house but chose to say nothing, Soonyoung on the other hand had been more vocalâtrash bag in hand and a threat forming in his lips: get rid of it.
But Wonwoo's stomach had rolled, nausea building in his chest as he snatched the mug out of Soonyoung's holdâdisrupting time, unsuspending memories, a snow globe shaken and chaotic.
"He won't come back," Jihoon whispers from his seat by the couch, back turned against Wonwoo.
"He will," Wonwoo finds himself saying: optimistic beyond doubt, a stark contrast to the house he had built for himself.
"How many months has it been," Soonyoung asks, tone like the nail on the coffin but Wonwoo wrenches it open with a hammer.
Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn.
"He will come back," Wonwoo speaks with finality.
The mug is placed back on its perch and time stands still, once more.
And when Wonwoo comes home four months later with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he finds that the mug is sitting on the drying rack, water gently seeping out of its rimâtime moves, warps, twists and then rights itself.
"You kept it," comes a voice from the stair case behind Wonwoo.
"I did," is his reply, feet rooted on its spot, watching the snow move around the globe as it drifted slowly into the ground.
"Why?"
Wonwoo sighs before turning, a despondent smile sitting on his lips, "You hated the ones I owned."
There's a furrow sitting on Jeonghan's forehead, a reminder that he's closer to the human than the divine.
A man, not a ghost even if sometimes he feels like one.
"Why," Jeonghan asks again and Wonwoo watches him carefully, notes that he has grown his hair out, blonde this time. A shirt too big on him is sitting on his shoulders, a blue splotch resting by the hem from when Wonwoo accidentally spilled a pen. There are pillow marks on Jeonghan's left cheek and if Wonwoo were to check the bed upstairs, he'd not doubt find the very same print embedded on the material.
Jeonghan doesn't have to ask why, him standing in the middle of Wonwoo's living room is enough of an answer.
"Do you want to order take out?" Wonwoo asks, placing his bag by the couch and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Jeonghan likes Chinese, Wonwoo muses despite his sensitive stomach.
Extra spicy, he picks.
Jeonghan is silent as he walks over to Wonwoo, cheek pressing against his shoulder as they pick dinner options.
Wonwoo picks up a congee, checking the add chilli flakes option before thinking better of it and placing the order.
"I'll set the table," Jeonghan hums, twirling away like starlight and something in Wonwoo's chest constricts before it rights itself when Jeonghan still remembers where the bowls are kept.
The memory is a muscle, no matter how long time has passed.
Food arrives, Jeonghan fills the misshapen mug with water, sliding it to Wonwoo before picking out his own from the cupboard by the sinkâclean lines, perfect rim.
They share a quiet meal.
Later when the lights are dim and Wonwoo can still feel the slight dampness from his face after washing up, he finds an added weight sinking into his bed.
They say nothing for a long while, breathes syncing quietly in the silent air as their bodies reorrient themselves with each other, a homecoming of sorts.
"Why," Jeonghan asks again, whispers it to Wonwoo's chest, close to his heart.
"I like the mug," Wonwoo not-answers before he shuts his eyes, draws Jeonghan close, the first time he has held him in seven months.
"Should I make more?" Jeonghan mumbles, quietly.
"If you want," Wonwoo replies, smells strawberries in his pillows, "We can replace my old ones."
"Even if they're misshapen?"
"Especially when they're misshapen."
Wonwoo is like this house: clean lines, sharp edges, soft-closed doors and the single potted plant sitting by the foyer.
But his heart? His heart is a misshapen mug sitting on the countertop beside a cracked clay bowl that they use for keys.
Re: [FILL] i wanna see you (but you're not mine)
its some muted yearning some comforting domesticity??? personally im not too sure either but it definitely adds to the allure. The Exception... oh man.
(But Wonwoo's stomach had rolled, nausea building in his chest as he snatched the mug out of Soonyoung's holdâdisrupting time, unsuspending memories, a snow globe shaken and chaotic)
this is crazy i love the way you just... melded time in this. its mindblowing. the desperation. pivotal if you will.
the details... it's all about how you've made this come so alive by all the little details. the ink blot on the shirt the sentimentality of it all is so appropriately portrayed TT i really. really love it all.
(But his heart? His heart is a misshapen mug sitting on the countertop beside a cracked clay bowl that they use for keys.)
i also love the roundabout.... the way it feels cyclical in some kind of way. this is a never ending process of yearning and optimism almost.... whatever vibe you've sought to achieve i genuinely believe you've done it.. and so well. so well. thank you for this work really!!!!
Re: [FILL] i wanna see you (but you're not mine)
Re: [FILL] i wanna see you (but you're not mine)
(Anonymous) 2022-12-28 12:02 am (UTC)(link)thank you for writing and sharing!
[FILL] ditto (say it back)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: First Kiss, Unrequited Love, Childhood friends to ???
Permission to remix: Yes!!!
this was just me rambling my boochan thoughts... thank u for the prompt~ i also listened to nwjns ditto obsessively while writing this so it's double inspired!
***
It starts like this:
Seungkwan leans forward and presses his lips to Chanâs. For a moment, itâs as if time stands still. Seungkwan and Chan in their shared kitchen, with Seungkwanâs hand balanced on the counter for support and his lips pressed lightly to Chanâs own.
The moment ends â itâs a ghost of a kiss, really, but still, it has Chan reeling.
âLike that?â Seungkwan asks. He is wringing his hands together nervously, eyes flitting everywhere but at Chan. For all of Seungkwanâs bravado, heâs much more timid than people may realise. Choosing to shrink into himself when he feels like heâs doing something wrong, an apology always on the tip of his tongue. Chans inhales deeply â he needs to be calculated about his response, but all he can focus on is Seungkwan. His nervous smile, nervous hands, his lipsâ
âYeah," he responds, âjust like that.â
\
They are friends (maybe), they are not lovers (never will be, Chan thinks). Instead, they are a secret, terrible, third thing.
(Two people who love each other, but not in the same way)
For Seungkwan, it may have begun at that kiss â his first and only kiss. But for Chan, it begins before. He thinks they were friends, at one point in time. Somewhere between meeting Seungkwan and that kiss they shared, they had been close. Seungkwan must think they still are because they still share the routines theyâve shared for years now. They live together, they share the same space and memories.
For Chan, it started on the very first day he met Seungkwan.
When Seungkwan first moved to Seoul and enrolled into the same school as Chan, he went around their kindergartenâs small playground during recess, backpack slung unzipped across his chest. Heâd approached Chan with light footsteps and reached into his open backpack, pulling out a beautiful Jeju orange. Full, and too big in his little hands, heâd pushed it into Chanâs own hands.
When Chan was young, when he first met Seungkwan, he loved and was loved by Seungkwan (the exact same way). But Seungkwan, at that young age, loved everyone. His caring hands which nurtured their friendship, and tender hands under which Chan bloomed.
For Chan, it was always Seungkwan â it had to be Seungkwan. But for Seungkwan, it was never Chan.
Not the way it mattered, anyway. It would be many people to him as the years passed, but it never seemed to be Chan.
/
Chan reaches forward as Seungkwan pulls away, grabs his elbow and keeps him rooted to the spot.
âSeungkwan-ah,â his voice comes out hoarse and urgent. Seungkwan smiles at him, urging him to go on.
For a moment, one impossible moment, Chan is back at their kindergarten playground â the noise of kids as surround sound, Seungkwan offering him an orange in his too-small hands. But really, itâs Chan taking a piece of Seungkwanâs heart and keeping it for himself.
Chan presses his hands into Seungkwanâs now, his heart bleeds down his sleeves into Seungkwanâs palms.
\
st8rgazer on twt!!