2025 Round: Quotes

[hwarium]

Status: Open Prompting is currently open. Prompting is open from 28 December 2024 to 19 January 2025. Seventeen Holidays 2025 Round: Quotes About "the poem begins not where the knife enters, but where the blade twists" "beauty is terror" "you'll just have to taste me, when he's kissing you" 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 a hit tweet. 🛑 HOLD UP If this is your first time on 17hols please check out our About Page which has helpful information about 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 TWITTER BAITS ✧ 2025 ROUND: QUOTES ✧ 2025 FILLS MASTERLIST ARCHIVE: 2021 ARCHIVE: 2022 ARCHIVE: 2023 NOTION DATABASE

Comments

with every heartbeat

[delicatesse]

Ship/Member: any but consider seokshua, seoksoon, jihan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: breakup(?), moving on, something ending
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

we could keep trying but things will never change
so i don't look back
still i'm dying with every step i take
but i don't look back

and it hurts with every heartbeat

-- robyn, with every heartbeat

distance between two bodies

[infrequencies]

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

Prompt:

Alone & afraid are mostly
the same thing. We were both.
We were both here. Your face shone
the first safe beacon I had ever seen.
— "Close Encounters", Natalie Wee

We're dancing all night long
Let's make our only triones
I'm stuck up here on my own
— "Orbit", Minghao

[tenderlyache]

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

Prompt:

"Seeing someone you used to love is like visiting a house you once lived in. Everything about them is familiar yet strange. The greater the distance between you, the more unbelievable they seem. Maybe I have always been involved in some kind of fieldwork."
- Marlowe Granados, Happy Hour

&

"I suppose it is possible that one day we will meet again and it will feel as if nothing ever happened between us."
- Maggie Nelson, Bluets

&

"A long time ago, we met. I think that's important—the fact of a meeting, the fact I remember a sense of before. Meeting implies a point before knowing, a point before Leah and I became this fused, inextricable thing."
- Julia Armfield, Our Wives Under The Sea

[FILL] an almost palpable ache

[kumquat]

Ship/Member: Seungcheol/Jeonghan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: going to your ex's wedding, rule 63, sorry mingyu
Permission to remix: Yes

***

“Unnie,” Seungkwan whispers, too gently for Jeonghan’s liking. Jeonghan pretends not to hear her. Instead she forces herself to relax her fingers slowly and put the spoon back down on the table. Seungkwan has been complaining about her hunger all night, but she’s still here because she’s a good friend. Jeonghan is still here because she’s a coward.

A small crowd buzzes around the buffet table, where the bride cuts a beautiful, jarring figure in white lace. When the couple had stood with their backs to the audience for the vows Jeonghan had almost been able to pretend she was someone else. But then it was time for Seungkwan and Seokmin to perform, and she had turned around to gaze at them with such familiar adoration on her face that Jeonghan had to look away.

Jeonghan looked at the groom instead, then wished she hadn’t, because even as his best man began to sing he was stealing glances at Seungcheol like he couldn’t believe his luck. It made something unexpected and hot rear up in her gut. Believe it, she wanted to scream. She chose you!


–


They’d still been fucking around then, when Seungcheol first met him.

Seungcheol’s breath was warm against the back of her neck. It ruffled Jeonghan’s hair on her exhales. As usual she’d let Jeonghan have the lion’s share of the bed, like it didn’t matter if half her body was hanging off the twin size mattress, as long as her arms could encircle Jeonghan’s waist.

“The other intern is funny,” Seungcheol was saying, her voice fading between yawns. “He’s tall but he texts like a teenage girl.”

Jeonghan stared across the room at the half-open closet door. If Jeonghan squinted she could see the shape of their high school uniform jacket, hanging behind the hoodies and the flannels and the nice work blouses. Jeonghan had burned hers right after graduation, but Seungcheol never threw things away.

“His family’s dog is really cute too,” sighed Seungcheol.

Jeonghan’s flight to Tokyo was on Monday. It had been booked for months. Seungkwan was actually going to kill her if she didn’t tell Seungcheol today, but Jeonghan would take a ritual execution at this point. It wasn’t like they had ever talked about what they were doing. And college was over now, too.

What was Jeonghan supposed to do, ask Seungcheol to wait for her like a military wife? She’d wanted to shoot back at Seungkwan when they’d argued, but even admitting it out loud was too mortifying.

The warmth was draining from Jeonghan’s body. But Seungcheol’s breathing had slowed down, so Jeonghan resisted the urge to shove her feet between Seungcheol’s warm calves. Instead she extricated herself carefully from the bed, trying not to shiver.

Seungcheol had gotten a smart new pantsuit for her internship. They’d left the blazer halfway to the bed, the pants crumpled on the floor of Seungcheol’s childhood bedroom. Before she left Jeonghan picked up the pieces and smoothed them out the best she could. She hung them back in the closet and she turned off the light.


–


Mingyu gets to them first. Up close his smile is even more boyishly charming and he’s carrying his plate and Seungcheol’s, both overflowing. Seungkwan plies him with congratulations while Jeonghan smiles with her teeth.

“We’re so glad you could make it,” he says as he turns to Jeonghan. He ducks his head a little; he’s strangely shy. “Seungcheol has told me so much about you. I’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time.”

“Is that so,” Jeonghan says, when –

“Jeonghan-ah!” comes the breathless cry. Seungcheol appears at Mingyu’s side, and his entire body seems to shift towards her gravitational field. Jeonghan feels it too. She looks at where their sides press together, white lace against black like they can’t bear to not touch for even a second, and something inside her dislocates. Somehow, she’s clutching the spoon again.

But Seungcheol is looking straight at her. Smiling her easy, guileless grin, and her dark eyes are full of love. She still believes in Jeonghan – thinks the world of her. So Jeonghan puts the smile back on her face. Narrows her eyes like she’s teasing.

“Seungcheollie,” says Jeonghan, “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world tonight.”

vengeful

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Any... but not Seokgyu (sorry.)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

context is literal stabbing, but could intent to mortally wound someone in other ways :)

Prompt:

"You can't kill me, Victor," said Eli. "You know that."
Victor's smile widened as he buried his knife between Eli's ribs.

"I know," he said loudly. He had to speak up over the screams. "But you'll have to indulge me. I've waited so long to try."

[FILL] ouch (nsfw)

[gyucassu]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jeonghan
Major Tags: tw: mentions of blood, tw: actual stabbing -- well, more like slicing
Additional Tags: fine lines between love and hate, mr. & mrs. smith dynamics-ish, no mcd (sorry not sorry, it's funner this way), kinda nsfw -- probably nsfw
Permission to remix: Yes

***

There are worse ways to die, Jeonghan thinks when he wakes up to a sharp pain in his ribs.

It's a conflicting feeling, he muses, when he looks up to see Wonwoo straddling him in bed. Merely hours ago, the sight made Jeonghan so fucking hard, he nearly came when Wonwoo sat on him and bottomed out. Now, as Jeonghan's eyes watch his blood drip from the knife Wonwoo is twirling between his long, delicate fingers, he --

Nope, he's just as hard as he was earlier. Good to know that when you're dying, some things really don't change.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. "It's a superficial cut," he explains. Jeonghan hisses when he adjusts his position.

"These are new sheets, Wonungie," he groans in annoyance, trying desperately not to sound like he's gritting his teeth.

Wonwoo shrugs. "You can buy new ones."

"Do you know how expensive it is to buy Egyptian cotton nowadays?" Jeonghan ruts his hips up against Wonwoo, partially to annoy him, and partially to distract him. His lips curl into a slight smirk when he watches Wonwoo's eyes roll to the back of his head, a guttural groan escaping his lips as his groin pushes down against Jeonghan.

"Don't I always make it worth your while?" Wonwoo purrs.

Jeonghan isn't sure what's going to kill him faster -- the small pool of blood ruining his perfectly good sheets, coming from a thin slice along his ribs, or the way Wonwoo is leaning over him. Wonwoo's hair is finally long enough for Jeonghan's fingers to tangle into and tug down for a searing kiss. His body, sculpted to perfection by months of training and eventually missions, fits perfectly on top of Jeonghan when their tongues battle for dominance in the small space between their lips.

Jeonghan pulls away when Wonwoo brushes against his wound, letting out a hiss. "Fuck," Jeonghan growls, glaring up at Wonwoo. "Did you really have to do that?"

"It's been a fantasy of mine since we met, hyung," Wonwoo replies innocently, the small smirk on his face shooting pulses of heat down to Jeonghan's dick. "And you like fulfilling my fantasies, don't you?"

Jeonghan hisses again when Wonwoo presses the flat sheet against the wound.

"You're so fucking pretty, hyung." Wonwoo's eyes devour the mildly pained look on Jeonghan's face. His teeth latch onto his bottom lip, and Jeonghan demands (to no avail) his cock to stop throbbing this instant. "You're gonna make me hard again, looking like this."

The older lets out a chuckle. "Wonwoo-yah, who are you kidding?" His fingers move to grip onto Wonwoo's hips. "Like I can't already feel how much you want me."

Wonwoo grins, a full-blown smile that takes Jeonghan's breath away (well, that and the new gill Wonwoo fashioned for him in his fucking sleep).

Jeonghan pulls him down again, his lips crashing against Wonwoo's. Wonwoo's tongue instantly asks for permission to explore his mouth, and Jeonghan lets him.

There's something about Wonwoo that makes him feral, something that makes Jeonghan find pleasure through the pain as he rubs his cock against Wonwoo through the sheets. Something about how fucking hot it sounds when he hears the knife clang to the floor because Wonwoo is switching it out for lube.

Jeonghan so often loves being in control, yet there is something about Wonwoo that makes him turn to putty in his hands. Makes him pliant when Wonwoo's fingers reach behind to work him open. Makes him whiny when his fingers are replaced by his cock. Makes him needy when he begs for Wonwoo to fuck him deeper. Makes him boneless when he screams, pain and pleasure colliding, friction turning into fire, ribbons of cum splattering all over Wonwoo's chest and down his stomach.

"Now we're even," Wonwoo whispers against his mouth. Jeonghan can feel him grin.

"Not until you get me some new fucking sheets."

*

When Jeonghan wakes up again with a gasp, he clamors around the bed, fingers grasping around in the dark.

The moon shines slivers of light into the room. Jeonghan's eyes begin to adjust to the dark. His fingers brush against his ribs, skin sewn neatly together by almost surgically-precise stitches.

The knife lays prettily on his bedside table, stained with Jeonghan's blood. A note, written next to it:

Angel, I was called for an assignment. The folder's in the kitchen with all the data. Pick me up at the airport tomorrow?

P.S. I'll pick up some sheets on the way back. Love you.

P.P.S. How do you feel about being gagged?

spring's always been here

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Any, but especially Seungcheol/any; Minghao/any; or Joshua/any.
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: finally, finally getting together
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

And, oh, my love, I lied to you
But I never needed to
Oh, my love, I lied to you
But you always knew the truth

[FILL] love is not an easy thing to admit

[abaegel]

Ship/Member: Gyuhao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: canon compliant, yearning and pining, finally confessing after 10 years
Permission to remix: Please ask

based on that one mingyu Instagram post of gyuhao in berlin, you know the one.

***

Mingyu was born to be free.

Mingyu glows under the warm streetlight, eyes wide and shining in its reflection—so full of wonder and awe of his surroundings.

Mingyu pointing out a building, some street art, or an interesting café like it’s his first time experiencing the joys of traveling when they’re ten years into their careers and have been touring the world for most of it.

Mingyu dragging Minghao around, utterly oblivious to how he has been watching him the whole time, scenery paling exponentially in his presence.

It’s what they do, a script they follow that has been stitched into the fabric of their friendship for as long as Minghao can remember. Mingyu asks him if he wants to go for a walk, and Minghao agreeing with a sigh and a smile, earning himself the signature Mingyu grin—bright sunlight and sharp canines.

Sometimes, Minghao lets himself entertain the idea that maybe Mingyu feels the same. Maybe the fleeting glances he catches from the edges of his vision are real, the smiles when their eyes meet, the hands on his back, and the way he seeks Minghao out in the crowd no matter what.

Minghao holds his phone, looking at the photos Mingyu posted on his Instagram of their night out the day before, and wonders if Mingyu saw the longing in his eyes and if he felt the way he held onto him tighter than he needed to when he carried him.

He wonders if Mingyu saw through his lie and went with it anyway or if he was just being helpful and caring because, at the end of the day, that is who Mingyu is.

He looks at the pictures more and wishes he could see the way Mingyu looks back at him. He doesn’t trust his memory, not when it matters and definitely not when it comes to Mingyu.

He wonders, and that’s all he does because Minghao yearns, and that is also part of the script.

***

“I saw the pictures you posted,” Minghao says, and already he feels like he said too much, like he has put himself on display, allowing Mingyu access to the parts of himself he tries to keep hidden.

“Yeah, carats seem to really like them too,” Mingyu replies, and if he is aware of the storm brewing within Minghao, he doesn’t let it show. “Do you want to know which one is my favorite?”

And Minghao pauses. He pauses because that is not how the conversation is supposed to go; it is not in the script they follow when the topic is about them.

“Sure,” Minghao says, trying to be nonchalant but sounding choked up instead. The shrug of his shoulders is too stiff, and his fingers too tense.

This is unnavigated waters, and Minghao is a captain lost at sea, so far from land that the expanse of the water threatens to drown him.

“It’s this one,” Mingyu inches closer, not close enough to touch but so close that Minghao feels the warmth radiating off his body.

Mingyu pushes his phone into Minghao’s field of vision, and he goes still, looking away from Mingyu to the phone in front of him and at the picture on the screen.
The one that was captured moments after Minghao asked to be carried, the one that captured Minghao looking at Mingyu, façade cracked, and eyes shining with love, affection, and fondness.

“I like this one because,” Mingyu’s words startle Minghao, dragging him out of his thoughts and back into the real world.

Minghao looks at him and sees the way Mingyu is looking at him, the way his eyes linger on his lips before meeting his eyes. The way he seems to be as lost as he is because that is yet another thing today that is not part of the script.

“Because?” Minghao whispers, suddenly too aware of how close they’re sitting. How, if he wanted, he could lean in, and Mingyu would meet him halfway.

“Because,” Mingyu starts, looking at the phone again before looking back at Minghao. His heartbeat is going wild, as if his heart wants to break out of his chest and land in the hands of the person it has belonged to for the past ten years.

“I finally have proof that I’m not imagining the way you look at me,” Mingyu lets go of the phone, letting it drop on the floor and reaching timid fingers towards Minghao, brushing through the strands of hair around his face. “That, maybe, you might feel the same way I do.”

“And what is that?” Minghao is suddenly aware of how close they have gotten. He can feel Mingyu’s breath as he exhales, and he feels how shaky it is—how Mingyu seems to be just as affected.

“Are you going to make me say it?” Mingyu pouts, and Minghao can’t help but smile at how predictable he is because even through uncharted territory, this is still Kim Mingyu, his best friend who he knows like the back of his hand.

“Yes,” Minghao says, a giggle slipping past his lips as he gets so close their noses touch. As the situation starts to set in because, it’s as if a pen has been taken to paper, adding line after line to what it means to be Mingyu and Minghao, redefining it in the best way possible.

“How about I show you instead?” Mingyu says, and Minghao watches as his eyes flutter shut. As he closes the distance and rests their foreheads together first, his hand reaching for his cheek, and he lets his eyes fall shut as well, the warmth of Mingyu’s fingers spreading through him as they stay still for a moment, taking in the closeness, breathing each other in—the final moments before taking that last leap.

When their lips touch, it’s everything, and nothing like Minghao thought it would be.

Mingyu is so gentle, so careful with his touch, applying the faintest pressure with his lips and Minghao feels like he’s floating. He feels his lips tingle at the touch, content to stay in this moment, drinking in the feeling of Mingyu’s lips against his after yearning for it for so long. He feels Mingyu pull away, and he stays still, suspended in motion, with his eyes closed because just this one kiss has taken his breath away.

When he opens his eyes, Mingyu is looking at him, and it’s that look Minghao has never been able to categorize. But now, now he sees the love stored in those eyes, the affection that Mingyu carries for him—has carried for him for so long, and he breaks out into a shy smile, leaning into the hand that’s on his cheek and covering it with his own.

“So, do you?” Mingyu whispers, his thumb brushing against Minghao’s cheek, and Minghao finally realizes, this has been a part of the script all along. “Do you feel the same way I do?”

“Yes,” Minghao says, and it’s unnecessary to say at this point, especially with the way they’re intertwined together but it feels incredible to let out, to finally share it together.

sweet for me

[kkulecru]

Ship/Member: Any, maybe Joshua or Jihoon???
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great
But while in this world
I think I'll take my whiskey neat
My coffee black and my bed at three
You're too sweet for me

Too Sweet, Hozier

[FILL] love is for the freaks

[deadwine]

Ship/Member: Jihoon/Seokmin
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: breakup, unreliable narrator, self-sabotage
Permission to remix: Please ask

a/n: title from nuts by rm. sorry if this is a very convoluted take on too sweet :/

***

The morning rises with Seokmin while Jihoon nurses yesterday's hangover in bed till noon today.

Or so Jihoon believes to be true. Seokmin isn't here anymore for Jihoon to keep track of his movements. Yesterday's whiskey has already sent him where Jihoon could never yearn to follow: away.

Jihoon knows it was only a matter of time before the fairy tale holiday romance nectar started rotting their teeth and ruining the lining of their stomach. Pulling the plug before they were in the thick of it saved both of them a world's worth of delusion and hurt.

If painting himself the villain was the only way to get Seokmin to leave, for his own good, then so be it.


It's not you it's me--
I'm begging you baby, please.


If the sunlight fit itself over the canvas of Seokmin's face like it was a part of his own skin, the LEDs of Jihoon's studio shaped themselves into the world's most ill-painted portrait, making a caricature of the most beautiful man to ever grace these halls.

Seokmin begged to be let into Jihoon's inner world and Jihoon loathed his own filth bleeding into the inviting spaces of Seokmin's open heart.

It had been acceptable to let their bodies embrace each other on the beaches of Thailand, every day an alien stretch of time that tied neither of them to anything but their obvious desire to touch and be touched in turn.

But Seoul throws under a microscope what Jihoon had already gained cognisance of back then--there is no space for Lee Seokmin, golden-tongued poster boy of the local theaters, inside Jihoon's dingy rat-infested studio; nor is there any room for him in the unimpeded, arrhythmic wreck that is Jihoon's life.


We were never meant to be.
Are you even listening to me?


Still, it takes Jihoon longer than he'd like to shake free of Seokmin.

Turns out love can be quite easy to get used to, even when you're convinced of its failure from the very first step you take towards it.

And Jihoon loves Seokmin much more than he thought he was capable of loving anything.

But every open-mouthed kiss is a saccharine reminder of who he casts into shadow with every late night call he reels them into--every endearment dripping from Seokmin's lips encased in coffee-stained venom that Jihoon himself has put there.

Jihoon loves Seokmin more than he's loved anything but it's still less than what Seokmin deserves.

Laced with Jihoon's spit, even tenderness tastes bitter and goodbye's never been much of a sweet fruit anyway.

Perhaps that's why Seokmin's eyes are so dry at their parting, unlike what Jihoon has come to expect from him.


Smile because it happened--
--you'll cry every time you remember it's over.



허니

Don't do this hyung.
Whatever bullshit justification you've given yourself, just throw it away.
Friday, 8:15 a.m.

Hyung.
HYUNG.
Friday, 9:37 p.m.

Goddammit.
You're a fucking idiot, Lee Jihoon.
Saturday, 2:09 a.m.

rushing around

[kkulecru]

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

Prompt:

somebody told me you had a boyfriend
Who looked like a girlfriend
That I had in February of last year
It's not confidential, I've got potential

Somebody Told Me, The Killers

what are we going to do, baby?

[cheapdates]

Ship/Member: Any... the usual suspects
Major Tags: horror? but it doesn't have to be
Additional Tags: codependency, a match made in hell, doomed love
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

it shouldn't have happened, but
it did. we're here now. we've been

here for so long that we've carved
a ghost out of our waiting. we've

woven ourselves a haunting. something
is dead because we killed it. & now

there's blood under out nails &
Mercury in retrograde.

we can
kiss over the corpse until sunrise.

but we still have to dispose
of the body.

- yves olade, bloodsport

[FILL] i can't get you off my mind (i can't get you off in general)

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Seungkwan/Soonyoung; implied Seungkwan/Seokmin; past Seungkwan/Mingyu
Major Tags: Minor Character Death
Additional Tags: *Laid AU; mild sexual content; using each other <3; i kill mingyu again. sorry dude
Permission to remix: Yes

*spoilerish for the TV show Laid which centers a woman who must come to terms with her complicated past after a string of her exes start dying off. In the order she'd slept with them. Please watch it.
***

Seungkwan's feet lead him to Soonyoung's apartment, because, in the end, all roads lead here. He answers the door with one hand in a cereal box, slack-jawed, which almost makes him turn on his heel and head home, but home is where Jeonghan is sulking on the couch, and he doesn't really want to deal with any of that.

Scene: Soonyoung takes a minute to reboot before he finally melts into the kiss, guiding Seungkwan’s hands to his middle, to the soft skin underneath his rucked up shirt. Ugh. Who has abs like this? (....most of Seungkwan’s now-dead exes, but that’s neither here nor there.)

The box of dry cereal hits the floor. Cheerios everywhere, crunching under their feet as Seungkwan pushes him inside of the apartment and onto the couch.

Everything is as Seungkwan remembers it. He’d been here just 12 hours prior, after all, and when he drags a hand over the front of Soonyoung’s sweatpants, he can tell that he still isn’t wearing any underwear.

Maybe there is a god, and maybe she is merciful after all.

Of course, this is what got them into this mess in the first place: that little broken-off sound that Soonyoung makes when Seungkwan sinks his teeth into his shoulder—payback for Soonyoung introducing him to being bitten during sex in the first place, primal freak—and how excitement sparks like a little flame at the power.

How sex is choreography, every scene from vanilla to depraved is blocked in ways that teach you about the person you’re with. What are they like? How much are they willing to give?

Of all of his exes, Seungkwan will give Soonyoung this: he is a giver. Of all of his exes, he’s glad that the curse seemed to have skipped him over. He’s taking the situation in strides. He’s given himself a hard reset, which is inspiring. Wingmanning being a death doula with whimsy, despite the fact that Seungkwan often feels like he’s unraveling.

He misses when sex wasn’t tied to death, and with Soonyoung, he can at least try to forget.

When they pull apart, the slack-jawed expression has been replaced with a more lustful one, tongue tracking across his bottom lip. He stares up at the hand that Seungkwan had managed to pin to the back rest.

"Now?" Soonyoung asks, breathless. His shirt is pulled up and resting under his chin. Seungkwan traces a path with the tip of his nose, down.

"Yes now," he says, urgent, hot, dropping small kisses on his descent. "Kim Mingyu just died—"

"The actor?"

Soonyoung shoots upright and nearly knocks Seungkwan off-balance. He drops onto Soonyoung’s knees, ignoring his wince. Serves him right.

"Don't interrupt me,” he pouts, kneeing forward until they’re chest to chest again. “Yes, the actor, and he was horrible in bed by the way—"

"Seungkwan, when did you sleep with an actor—”

“—and we had mutual friends, and I’m distraught and need someone to touch my dick.”

Soonyoung stops squirming and just stares, which isn’t a good sign. It’s never a good sign when Soonyoung stops talking, stops squirming, stops doing anything and everything to get serious. The more they do this, the more Seungkwan remembers why he’d never called him back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Soonyoung asks, gentle. One of his hands moves up, knee then thigh, thumb rubbing against the thin denim stretched over Seungkwan’s leg. It’s not sensual, though. It’s pitying.

Total boner killer.

“What exactly do you want to talk about, Soonyoung?” Seungkwan hisses, rolling off his lap and standing. That they’re both still clothed is a nightmare. He was really hoping that Soonyoung would be fucking him into the couch cushions right about now.

“That this is the 8th person to die in the last 3 weeks? That Seokmin asked me out and I had to turn him down? That I have to figure out why this is happening or Jeonghan is going to kill me?”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that part. Soonyoung’s brow furrows.

“You fucked your roommate’s boyfriend, too?”

Fuuuuck.

Seungkwan crosses his arms. “They were on a break.”

“So that makes it better?” Soonyoung is standing now, shirt smoothed back over his biteable abs. He opens the front door and retrieves the box of cereal, then turns back to Seungkwan.

“I think you should go.”

“You’re not serious.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

He laughs. No fucking shit. “Yeah, well, you’ve already fucked me, so—”

“Your literal body count is racking up, and all you can think about is yourself,” Soonyoung says, gesturing towards the doorway. “Congrats on not being selfish enough to kill Seokmin, but I don’t think you can keep using me.”

Seungkwan trudges toward the front door, knocking things over with his dragged feet. It’s a brat move, but it’s how he feels. “You’re an asshole, Kwon Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung’s face brightens, almost thoughtful at the insult. Then he drops the hammer.

“At least I’m not a murderer.”

dead men tell no tales

[stickie]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: consider; taking things to the grave but literally
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“Everyone has secrets. And everyone has the right to keep them. Even if they’re dead.”

― Keigo Higashino, Malice

but why do i keep coming back

[stickie]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: consider; breakups, fwb, situationships
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

― haruki murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

softly, softly know me

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: Any, Minghao/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: situationships, fwb, age difference?
Do Not Wants: mcd, non-con etc

Prompt:

He told me I was so small,
I told him 'Water me,'
I promise I can grow tall
When making love is free

- Water Me, FKA twigs

oh, what a monster we've created.

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: love triangle, public mess (celeb/idol setting or otherwise)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

heterolifemates.

i wont lie. i hate being this dude.

i wish it wouldnt have come to this but goddamn, hes right.

no one knows how to break a heart like he does.
— chris gutierrez, aka heychris to pete wentz in an old livejournal post

aftershock

[firstresponders]

Ship/Member: Any, a Wonwoo or Joshua ship would be nice
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: character study, losing a pre-existing relationship to unrequited love
Do Not Wants: explicit NSFW – implied/non-explicit is fine

Prompt:

I'll quiet down, if it's what you want
I understand I'm not the only one
For you
So tell me what you're looking for
Is it a picture-perfect girl
For you?

I'm here regardless of the pain
Don't ever tell me to go away
From you
When we're old and have to leave the Earth
I'll still remember all I've learned
From you

'I Know You'– Faye Webster

Tell you how I felt
Sugar coated melting in your mouth
Pardon my emotions
I should probably keep it all to myself
Know you'd make fun of me

'Bags' – Clairo

i love you i want us both to eat well

[kumquat]

Ship/Member: any, but consider mingyu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: chef au? or cooking for a loved one in general
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I'm asked a lot what the best thing about cooking for a living is. And it's this: to be a part of a subculture. To be part of a historical continuum, a secret society with its own language and customs. To enjoy the instant gratification of making something good with one's hands—using all one's senses. It can be, at times, the purest and most unselfish way of giving pleasure (though oral sex has to be a close second).

Anthony Bourdain

FILL: a hundred pitchers of honey

[dearmonday77]

Ship/Member: Minwon/Meanie
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Fluff
Permission to remix: Please ask

***

▢ 1 package (340 g) sundubu extra soft/silken tofu
▢ ⅓ cup thinly sliced kimchi
▢ 85 g pork
▢ 1 to 3 teaspoons gochugaru
▢ 2 teaspoons minced garlic
▢ 1 tablespoon sesame oil use a little more if using more gochugaru
▢ 1 cup water or anchovy broth
▢ 2 to 3 tablespoons juice from kimchi
▢ 1/2 teaspoon saewujeot or salt to taste
▢ pinch black pepper
▢ 1 scallion, finely chopped
▢ 1 egg - optional

1. Cut the meat and kimchi into small thin strips. Add the kimchi, meat, gochugaru, garlic and sesame oil to a small pot, and place it over medium heat. Stir fry until cooked.

The first thing they teach in the class is how to hold the knife.

"Pinch the end with two fingers, then hold on to the handle," the woman says at the front of the room. Wonwoo follows along as she demonstrates. It's like learning the controls before playing the game, Wonwoo tells himself.

It's a basic Korean cooking class. His manager had asked him three times if he was sure that this is what he wanted to do but he'd insisted. He'd thought about Joshua to help him out but eventually the embarrassment had won out and he hadn't asked. Almost everyone he knows cooks "with feeling" which is nice for him when he is eating the food they'd made but not helpful for him in learning.

It's much easier for him when things are more precise and the instructions are clear. So, a cooking class. Now it's part of the official Seventeen schedule that Mijoo noona updates. It's listed only as "Wonwoo's solo schedule."

He knows Coups hyung knows what it is but he's not sure if the other hyungs or members know. They don't ask him or tease him about it, so maybe not. It's fine. This is his little secret for now.

He starts out at the back of the room but when their instructor realizes how poor his eyesight is and that he needs more help than the others in the class, she moves him to the station closest to her.

He bows in apology but she only pinches his cheek.

"I don't have many men coming here to learn how to cook for their sweethearts," she says, after a particular hard pinch. She'd asked him curiously, after a particularly disastrous episode with a potato that had slipped from his hands, why he was in this class and he'd told her, in a fit of surprised honesty, that he wanted to cook for someone he cared about. "Certainly not ones as handsome as you are."

"Ah, thank you," he says, voice wavering as he laughs a little awkwardly. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to getting complimented about his looks no matter how many years he's been an idol.

She smiles at him and then promptly tells him that he needs to slice his onions more evenly and that one teaspoon does not mean heaping.

He nods and takes notes on his phone, even as some of the gochugaru smudges on the screen. He's got a long way to go.

2. Pour in water (or broth) and the juice from the kimchi. Bring it to a boil, and continue to boil for 3 - 4 minutes. Skim off the scum.

In his last class, his teacher pinches his cheek one more time and tells him to call her if he needs any help. She hands him a stack of papers with all the recipes they tackled along with her annotations. He can mostly work independently now and is at least now 100% sure that anything he cooks at least be edible if not the most delicious.

His last class also happens right at the start of SEVENTEEN's annual vacation (something they'd added to their renewed contracts once it was time to renegotiate) so he'll be going home and he'll have time to practice away from the other members.

Wonwoo kisses Mingyu goodbye at the door and takes the KTX back home to Changwon, where he subjects his family to his many attempts at perfecting what he's learned in cooking school. The first time he tries to light the stove almost ends in a minor fire and so he's promised his aunt to wait for her so she can supervise before he makes any further.

He still plays games when he's at home and takes Seollie out on her walks. But there's a callous developing on his index finger from the knife he's been using to mince garlic and slice meat. He learns more about soy sauces when he goes to the grocery with his aunt and knows now never to buy Tamari again (the way he did that one time when Mingyu asked him to do the shopping).

The first time his father's face lights up when he tastes the japchae Wonwoo made for the first time makes something warm and please bubble up in Wonwoo's stomach. Bohyuk asks for seconds.

3. Add the soft tofu in big chunks. Stir in the salted shrimp (or salt) to taste (start with 1/4 teaspoon) and black pepper. Cook for 4 -5 minutes. Add the chopped scallion just before removing the pot from the heat. If desired, crack an egg into the stew to serve while it’s still boiling hot.

"Hyung? Are you home?"

Wonwoo wipes his hand on the kitchen towel and surveys the mess he's made of the kitchen. He needs to wipe down the counters and surely he used more bowls than he probably needed but there's kimchi sundubu-jjigae on the dining table that tastes exactly the way Wonwoo had hoped it would and a few of side dishes that Wonwoo's been hiding at the back of their kimchi refrigerator, hoping that Mingyu wouldn't notice. They haven't seen much of each other these last few days with their schedules completely clashing so he thinks he's gotten away with it. The rice cooker chirps beside Wonwoo.

"In the kitchen," Wonwoo calls just as Mingyu comes into view. He's got his head tilted curiously. "Have you eaten?"

Mingyu looks at Wonwoo, taking in the mess of his apron and looking at the messy counters behind him.

"Hyung, did you…cook?" He looks a little alarmed.

"Yeah," Wonwoo says, scratching the back of his neck, flustered. "I took a class."

Mingyu looks up at him from where he's been inspecting the jjigae, leaning all the way down to breathe it in. "What?"

"You know the personal schedule I've been going to every Thursday night?" Wonwoo's face is warming up. In some ways, he'd known he was going to tell Mingyu about the class but he hadn't accounted for how much it would feel like showing his soft belly, even though he knows Mingyu will only take care of him. "It was a Korean cooking class for beginners."

"I thought you were working on a solo album." Mingyu's much closer now, just one step and he'll be close enough for Wonwoo to kiss.

"That's for another time." Wonwoo fiddles with the ends of his apron's ties. "Can we sit? And um, can you tell me if it's any good?"

"Yeah, of course."

Wonwoo scoops out rice for them while Mingyu serves them a bowl each of the jjigae. Wonwoo watches, stomach doing somersaults, as Mingyu brings up the spoon to his mouth. He takes a mouthful of rice slurps up the hot broth. Wonwoo holds his breath.

Mingyu closes his eyes and makes a noise Wonwoo would call a moan if he weren't drowning in anxiety. "Hyung, this is so good."

Wonwoo slumps back against his seat like a puppet cut from its strings. All the anxiety bleeds out of him all at once. "Really?"

"Yes," Mingyu says emphatically. He has another mouthful and follows up the bite with a little kimchi. He moans again.

Wonwoo can finally breathe, relieved. "I'm glad."

Wonwoo takes a bite of his own and is pleased to find that it does taste good. It could maybe use a little more spice but it's far beyond the passable attempts he's made in the past.

"Why did you suddenly want to take classes, hyung? I could have taught you." Mingyu asks between big bites.

"You've been so busy lately." Wonwoo flushes all over again, overcome with shyness all of a sudden. "I wanted to be able to make you something other than ramyun on the nights you're too tired."

"Wonwoo," Mingyu says, voice soft.

"I get it now, why you like to cook for me and for the team."

Wonwoo thinks he finally understands why Mingyu and other members do this. Watching Mingyu enjoy what he made with his hands is like hearing Carats' cheers from the stage, that electric moment of sharing something he and his team made condensed into a bite-sized package, intimate in a way he hadn't quite understood until he'd done it himself.

"I love you," Wonwoo says. He reaches out for Mingyu's hand and squeezes. Mingyu squeezes back. "Let's both eat well."

[hyojungss]

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

Prompt:

The things I want
Have always been in my hands
/
Even if I try to hide it
You’re calling me, calling me back

-- Calling Me Back, IRENE

[hyojungss]

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

Prompt:

But I remember sentimental
Sleepless nights, I set the table
And just waited
All along, I would have given
Every song I've ever written
Just to spend one day with you

-- In The Living Room, Maggie Rogers

[hyojungss]

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

Prompt:

justsomeguycore
Nov 9, 2024
the front seat of the car is a type of confessional

justsomeguycore
Nov 9, 2024
i genuinely think that physically it’s easier to have hard conversations when you’re both facing forward, not having to look at each other. the catholic church knew this also

&

tordenvejr
Jul 23, 2023
both worship and condemnation erase the possibility of truly seeing someone

my body is home

[infrequencies]

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

Prompt:

mockiatoh

You can’t deserve a person’s love. You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking like that. They either love you, or they don’t. That doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough for them to love you, because love isn’t something you earn by being good enough. It isn’t something that can be quantified or doled out. Don’t blame yourself for not being loved how you need to, just teach yourself how to look for love where love lives.

mockiatoh

This isn’t just about romantic love, or even skewed towards romantic love, although it does apply there too. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to accept is that my mother simply wasn’t someone who was capable of loving me, and there is no version of me that I could have ever been that would have earned that love. But with acceptance came healing. I was able to love myself more instead of resenting myself for not being more than any one person could be.

mockiatoh

Are you listening? Even love for yourself isn’t earned. It is a kindness you give yourself.

i can water the moon

[firstresponders]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Chan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: vaguely idolverse, existential crisis, subtle references to mental illness
Permission to remix: Yes

***

"Hyung. What makes you think you'd be different?"

If it were any other person, Wonwoo would've been offended. Chan hopes he would. But the older man lets it ripple the stillness between them, reverbing softly from where Chan is lying on his lap. Wonwoo's hand tread through his bangs like they're harp strings. It's pleasant. It makes him itch.

Wonwoo hums at him, "I never said I am."

His skin is cold lately. Not from the AC blowing incessantly in the dance studio, but from a deep seated chill underneath. Wonwoo isn't very warm either. It's still warmer than whatever lingers on his skin. It feels good. It scares him that it does.

"Don't you get tired?" he repeats. "I'm not good at staying, hyung. I always have this—" Shift, shake, look away. "—urge to run away. I'm only going to hurt you, hyung. Like I've hurt everyone else that tried. Like I've tried with other people. They want me to stay. To let them stay. I don't know how."

When humans evolved into settlers, they developed the ability to make a shelter out of everything, no matter where they move. It's the nomad in them that never went away. It's a survival instinct. Humans are wired to find a place.

Chan is stuck somewhere before that evolution.

He must be flawed. Whatever program ingrained him with a yearning for perfection makes him ill-equipped to receive affection. It's supposed to be a transaction, isn't it? You do well and do enough and do well enough and be rewarded. The applauses, the awards, the screams, the sold-out stages, the respect and adoration and awe. Sometimes it feels like the future he promised himself flinches when he comes closer. It keeps slipping away.

Chan keeps chasing the unknown feeling. Clawing at the sky, climbing for the stars. When the night sky darkens, where does he go? He doesn't know what to chase anymore. There's a constellation of twelve shining for him to come home, but the feeling of being the odd number grows a root deep in his chest and cracks open a void.

"Why is this so hard?"

Why can't he sit down? Why does he itch for motion and acceleration and speed, to run until the ends of the earth, grind his bones in the wind until he disappears?

"Why is this so easy for you?"

Wonwoo is an enigma. A ghost. He lingers, undeterred by the void that swallows Chan inside out, turning his head into teeth. He knows how many hearts have Chan broken and how many times Chan had tried and got left burned. The irony is that Wonwoo knows how to handle Chan better than Chan knows how to handle himself.

There should be an explanation as to why he's so adamant on staying within the orbit of a planet that wants to rip away.

Wonwoo doesn't act like Chan earns him. When he's pushed away, he draws back. There's an eerie timeliness in how he emerges back when Chan gets better, when Chan could laugh and dances around or argue with Seungkwan or takes hugs from everyone without running away. He teases him nonstop. He agrees with everything Chan says. He lets Chan know that he's wrapped around his finger. It's confusing. It feels safe.

Wonwoo feels safe.

Wonwoo might be the closest to the love that Chan allows himself to have.

"People are tricky, you know? Maybe they don't know how to handle you. Maybe you don't know how to handle them. I do know that you, sometimes, don't even know how to handle your own thoughts," he muses.

"I know. I'm too confusing even for myself." Chan averts his gaze to the flickering light above them. "I don't get how you do all this, hyung. Sometimes I don't even feel like I'm... me. But you keep coming for me and I don't—" He briefly forgets whether he has been breathing through the whole conversation. "I don't know why you keep coming back. I don't deserve this. All of this... whatever it is you keep wanting me to have."

Being the youngest has sometimes left Chan aching to do more. To be more. He pokes, prods, tests their patience a lot, stretches their limits.

But maybe deep inside all he wants to know is whether they're really going to stay.

It's almost shameful, really, his near-constant need for certainty. He always hungers for it. It's a terrifying craving to have in a world where everything changes and nobody is ever guaranteed to stay, not even the self he wants to be.

What makes Wonwoo think he's any different?

For starters, "You talk a lot about yourself in transactional terms, Chan-ah."

He reads Chan well, but doesn't act like he does. He doesn't show a lot of his emotions, but somehow it's all presented in a glass box whenever Chan so much glances at him.

"I believe everyone has a place among others. And it's not something they have to buy for themselves," He links their hands together. Chan lets him. "I may be a bit naive, but stay with me. I personally think," He squeezes their hands. "That your constant itch to run away comes from you thinking love should be something you receive when you think you deserve it. But it's not. Everyone here loves you, whether it's in the way they know or you want, or even a huge mess where it clashes and you hate it, but you also don't."

Wonwoo's hand wraps around Chan's. It's grounding. It's...

For once, he just wants to feel happiness without a shadow creeping behind it.

"I know," he tries to convince himself. "I know that, hyung."

When he looks at Wonwoo, the stars have shone upon his eyes. There's something in Wonwoo's smile that makes the knots in his chest loosen, and suddenly there's oxygen in his lungs again.

"And even if you think you'll never be ready for it, that's fine too. You're still meant for love even if you don't feel like it."

"How do you know?"

Wonwoo's next words are muffled onto Chan's neck, his figure a barrier protecting him from the outside world and himself.

"I just decide that you do."

i think you're a saint

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: MCD

Prompt:

I know it's chemicals that make me cling to you
And I need a miracle to get away from you
/
I need a miracle to bring me back to you
I know you're gone now but I still wait for you

undressing

[klav]

Ship/Member: Any, Minghao/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: a negotiation of vulnerability, maybe a supernatural or surreal take (hybrids?)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

All I want is to finally take off my cowboy hat and show you my jeweled horns. If we slow dance I will ask you not to tug on them but secretly I will want that very much.
–Calling a Wolf a Wolf, Kaveh Akbar


Kaz: I want… you.
Inej: And how will you have me? Gloves on? Fully clothed? And your head turned, so our lips never touch? I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.
–Netflix’s Shadow and Bone

[FILL] anything close can cut through bone

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: UnREAL AU; ambiguous relationships; bickering and mild power play
Permission to remix: Yes

***

“I think you’re too smart to be on a show like this,” Minghao says, breaking the silence. Most of the crew has made themselves scarce, and the only reason Mingyu is still here is because old habits die hard.

“A show ‘like this’?” Mingyu echoes, tired.

It’s not an uncommon sentiment, but it gets old after the first time you’ve heard it. What’s a smart boy like you doing producing a dating show? His friends are on the film festival circuit. Emmy-bound. Cannes. Tiny little events you’ve never even heard of, racking up awards just to rub shoulders and be closer to someone of some sort of proximity to someone who knows someone.

The easy answer is that he’s damn good at it. The real answer is a lot less simple, but nothing ever is, is it?

He leans over to look at Minghao, on the opposite end of the room, where his eyes are still locked on the screens. One of the girls is doing her one-on-one while the others rush past her in a flurry of sequins and satin.

He’s already forgotten what the hell their date theme is supposed to be tonight, and he’s itching to be out on the set rather than sitting in mission control. But supervisors supervise, and if Jeonghan intervenes any more, it’ll be a costly blow to his sanity.

At least Joshua isn’t on set anymore.

“And yet, here we both are.” Mingyu gestures between them before reaching for his coffee. Minghao lets out a short laugh, flipping to the next page in his notebook.

“I’m just saying, you’re smart. You’ve been here, what? Four years? You could be supervising on a different project. See the world.”

The air pot in the PCR is empty, and they still have a few more hours of filming for the evening. He’s already forgotten the name of the runner since Heuning Kai’s been promoted to PA—and doing a piss poor job of it. Watching him fumble with the contestants Mingyu had handpicked for him is painful.

“Some of us have to rely on regular work for a living. Not a trust fund.”

“Right.” The backrest of Minghao’s chair squeaks as he leans back from the table, two legs off the ground. “Or your inheritance.”

Mingyu’s head snaps up, body turned fully forward. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not the only one who runs intel on new coworkers.”

“It’s not an inheritance.”

“Your parents live in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in all of Korea.”
Mingyu scowls. It’s not not wrong. He examines Minghao from the corner of his eye, watching him watch the screens. Watching his hand glide across a page as he takes notes, so clearly out of his element here.

Mingyu thumbs through the searches he’d done before Minghao had formally arrived on set. Before he’d screamed into a pillow in his hotel room and helped himself to the mini-bar. His Instagram. The blog he’d kept through university, and the director commentary on YouTube.

Sure, the network had bid on him, but no one gives unless they’re getting.

“Network intervention aside, was it your mom or your ex that was a fan of the show?”

There’s enough distance between Minghao’s last project (a short doc on repression and art) and where he is now (watching a has-been female idol wrestle with an Olympic archer for a shot at a date with some soccer player) that it’s one or both.

Minghao’s hand stills. “My mom.”

“And when was the last time you’ve spoken to her?”

Hesitation. And then, “Some time.”

Mingyu reads between the lines. “That last story took you too far away from home, huh?”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Produce me,” Minghao says sharply, snapping his notebook shut. His chair rolls as he stands, circling the table to retrieve the worn leather laptop bag that dangles from the old broken tripod everyone uses as a rack. “I fell for that shit once, and I’m not doing it again.”

“So be real with me, sajang-nim.”

Minghao’s arm drops, eyes already rolling before facing him head on. Watching the professional veneer come down changes his body language, his stance. There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks again.

“You know I didn’t take this job because of you.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh, turning his attention from the screens to give it to Minghao fully. “Oh, I know. There are easier ways to upset me, and you’ve always been creative.”

Minghao’s expression darkens at the reminder. They’d done so well at keeping the shared past under wraps that Mingyu dragging it out into the open, even when they’re alone, is a betrayal.

As they both know from two rounds of eliminations so far, the past cannot stay buried. Better to drag it to light now rather than let someone dig it up later.

On screen, the ex-idol bests the archer. The camera pulls in on her triumphant face, the dark glee in her eyes. She’s thrown her fear of shattering her reputation to the wind. Mingyu makes a mental note to move her on the board. Character arc aside, it disqualifies her from what they call ‘a wifey’.

“You’re the one who went above Jeonghan’s head to tell Seungcheol about what he and Joshua are doing on this set,” Minghao says carefully, turning over each word like a smooth stone.

Each word already lined up to be thrown in his direction.

“I’m sorry that your brilliant plan backfired and didn’t go your way, but when you’re in my control room—yes, Mingyu, my room, I’m showrunner, not you—we are not…”

One of the walkies blips, and they both jump. A sharp reminder of where they are now. How their lives have reconverged.

Minghao’s hands twist around the leather straps, reddened face visible even in the din. “You’re nothing to me. Do you understand?”

Then the mask returns, and Minghao’s professional persona slips right back into place.

Mingyu clears his throat and turns back in his chair. He reaches for the walkie, catching something near Camera 3. It’ll be smart to capture it for the B-roll.

“Yeah. Understood.”

[dearmonday77]

Ship/Member: Any but consider minwon, soonhoon, jeongcheol
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: mcd, unhappy ending

Prompt:

but to love for a lifetime
takes talent

you have to mix yourself
with the strange
beauty of someone
else
wake each morning
for 72,000
mornings in
a row so
breathed and
bound and
tangled
that you can hardly
sort out
your arms
and
legs

- The Kama Sutra of Kindness: Position Number 3, Mary Mackey

champagne, cocaine, gasoline

[vasopressin]

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

Prompt:

Bar to bar at the speed of sound
Fancy feet dancing through this town
Lost my mind in a wedding gown
Don't think I'll ever get it now (don't think I'll ever get it now)

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time, Panic at the Disco

while you were sleeping

[vasopressin]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: gore

Prompt:

Is it cloak and dagger
Could it be spring or fall?
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips

These Dreams, Heart

see you later

[vasopressin]

Ship/Member: Soonyoung/96z, Soonyoung/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Sometimes, there seems to be a halfway point
between where you've been and everywhere
else, and we were there. All the trees were dead,
and the hills looked flat like in real bad landscape
paintings in some nowhere gallery off an interstate
but still, it looked kind of pretty. Not because
of the snow, but because you somehow found
a decent song on the dial and there you were,
with your marvelous mouth, singing full-lunged,
driving full-sped into the gloomy thunderhead,
glittery and blazing and alive
- Oh Please, Let it be Lightning, Ada Limon

(not) a love song

[gyucassu]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: discouraging angst bwahahah (but like if u want to who am i to stop your creative genius)

Prompt:

i’d like to take a bite of everything that you say
i’d like to know every letter, every word and how they taste
//
am i coming on too strong
when i say i’d like to get stuck in your mud?
oh, i’ll find a million ways to say it
before i say, i’m in, i’m in —

- (not) a love song, liang lawrence