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Prompting is currently open. Prompting is open from 28 December 2024 to 19 January 2025.
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"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.
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why won't you just love me back
(Anonymous) 2024-12-30 06:41 am (UTC)(link)Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: desperate, yet unrequited love
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] anything for you
Major Tags: unrequited love, unhappy ending
Additional Tags: pining. NYE.
Permission to remix: Yes! Go crazy.
happy new year...?
***
Mingyu shifts the case of beer higher on his shoulder as he knocks on Wonwooâs door. Thereâs no answer at first, which is strange. Wonwoo is usually prompt, quick to respond, especially since heâs the one who asked for help. Mingyu frowns and knocks again, louder this time.
âComing!â Wonwooâs muffled voice calls out.
A minute later, the door swings open. Wonwoo stands there, his glasses slightly askew, damp hair sticking to his forehead. âSorry about that,â he says, stepping aside to let Mingyu in. âGot caught up in the shower.â
Mingyu freezes for half a second. âCaught up?â he echoes. His eyes flick to the bead of water trailing slowly down Wonwooâs neck, disappearing under the collar of his hoodie.
âYeah.â Wonwoo shrugs, running a hand through his wet hair. âLost track of time.â
Mingyu steps inside, trying to shake off the strange feeling twisting in his chest. Glancing around, the apartment is cluttered with boxes of decorations, which feels out of place for someone like Wonwoo.
âYou know,â Mingyu says, setting the case of beer on the table. âI was already surprised when you said you were hosting a party. But streamers? Balloons?â He raises an eyebrow. âWho are you, and what have you done with Jeon Wonwoo?â
Wonwooâs lips twitch into a half-smile, but he doesnât meet Mingyuâs gaze. âItâs New Yearâs Eve. Thought Iâd do something different this year.â
Different. The word needles at Mingyu, heavy with implications he canât quite place. Different? Why? Wonwoo has always been a creature of habit, set in his ways since they were teenagers. Heâs the kind of person who takes the same route to the train station every morning, who orders the same coffee from the same cafe, who has kept the same watch from high school even though the strap has worn thin.
Mingyu wants to ask what prompted such a change, but before he can, a door creaks open behind him. He turns instinctively, and his heart stutters, then drops.
Seokmin steps out of Wonwooâs bedroom, damp hair curling at the edges, wearing a sweater thatâs unmistakably Wonwooâs. It hangs loose on Seokminâs frame, the sleeves casually pushed up to reveal his forearms. Mingyuâs seen this sweater a hundred times, knows the way Wonwoo always tugs the cuffs down to cover his hands.
âOh, hey, Mingyu!â Seokmin greets him with his usual bright smile. âDidnât know you were coming so early.â
Mingyu swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry. âUh, yeah. Wonwoo asked me to help set up.â
Seokmin grins wider, turning to rifle through a box of noisemakers. âThatâs so nice of you. Wonwooâs been stressing about tonight all week,â he says. âItâs sweet, isnât it? I know heâs not really into this kind of thing, but he knows how much I love big holiday parties, and so heâs really going all out.â
Mingyuâs gaze flickers to Wonwoo, who busies himself with unraveling a roll of streamers. His expression is neutral, but thereâs a faint pink on his cheeks that Mingyu doesnât miss.
âOh,â Mingyu says quietly. âYeah. Thatâs⌠sweet.â
Sweet. The word feels foreign when he thinks of Wonwoo. Wonwoo isnât the type to fawn or make grand, sappy gestures; his care is always quiet, subtle.. Like how he passes Mingyu the second blanket when theyâre crashing on the couch together watching a movie, or the way he moves Mingyuâs jacket from the chair to the coat rack whenever he visits. Itâs the kind of care thatâs easy to miss if youâre not paying attention. But this? The decorations, the planning, the effortâthis isnât Wonwooâs usual MO. And it isnât for him. Itâs for Seokmin.
Mingyu forces himself to smile, to keep moving, even as the ache in his chest deepens.
As they set up for the party, Mingyu canât help but watch, stealing glances from the corner of his vision. He watches as Wonwoo adjusts the playlist when Seokmin deems it too slow, as he sets a drink on the counter before Seokmin can even ask for one, as his hand lingers on Seokminâs lower back when they pass each other. None of it is big or showy. Itâs justâŚthoughtful.
Thoughtful in a way Wonwooâs never been with him.
The realization hits harder than Mingyu expects, and he canât stop comparing the intimate, effortless warmth Wonwoo shows Seokmin to the casual, platonic care he offers Mingyu. Itâs the same person, similar gestures, but the difference is glaring.
âHey, can you hand me the tape?â Wonwooâs voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and Mingyu blinks, realizing heâs holding the roll of tape in a death grip.
âYeah, here,â he says, handing it over. His fingers brush against Wonwooâs briefly, and itâs pathetic how his heart stumbles at the contact.
âThanks,â Wonwoo says, smiling faintly before turning back to Seokmin, whoâs calling him over to taste-test something.
Mingyu swallows the lump in his throat, forcing himself to keep moving. âAnything for you,â he whispers under his breath.
***
The party is in full swing by the time midnight approaches. Wonwooâs apartment is packed, fuller than Mingyu has ever seen it. There are familiar facesâmutual friends scattered across the roomâbut more than that, there are strangers. People Mingyu doesnât recognize, laughing and chatting like theyâve been here a hundred times before. Guests of Seokmin, no doubt. People that belong to a world Mingyu has no access to, a world that Wonwoo and Seokmin share.
Mingyu stands by the kitchen counter, nursing a drink thatâs mostly melted ice now, watching from the sidelines as Wonwoo flits around, Seokmin never far from his side.
Itâs the little things that cut the deepest. The way Wonwoo leans in when Seokmin speaks, his nose scrunching as he laughs at something Mingyu canât hear. The way their fingers deliberately brush as they pass a glass of champagne back and forth. The way Seokmin reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Wonwooâs ear, and Wonwoo doesnât flinch, just smiles, soft and easy. Itâs the casual familiarity of it all, unthinking and natural, and somehow more intimate because of it.
The countdown begins, voices rising excitedly as people gather close.
âTen! Nine! Eight!â
Mingyu grips his glass tighter, the condensation slick against his palm, his eyes locked on Wonwoo even though it hurts. Heâs flushed pink, his hand on Seokminâs arm, fingers curling just slightly.
âThree! Two! One!â
âHappy New Year!â
The room erupts in cheers, and Mingyuâs stomach sinks as he watches Seokmin cup Wonwooâs face, thumb brushing over his cheek as he pulls him in for a kiss. Wonwoo smiles into it, his hands finding Seokminâs waist, and the sight is like a needle slipping beneath Mingyuâs skin.
He tears his gaze away, tipping his glass back and downing the rest of his drink in one go. Itâs watered down, nearly tasteless, but it burns all the same, sliding down his throat and pooling in his chest.
âHappy New Year,â he mumbles to himself.
No one notices as he sets his empty glass on the counter and slips out the front door. The muffled sound of celebration fades behind him, replaced by the sharp bite of the night air and the distant crackle of fireworks.
Another year. Another one wasted, tossed onto the growing pile of years spent pining after Jeon Wonwoo.
Mingyu drags a hand down his face, his breath fogging in the cold.
2025, he promises himself. 2025 will be different.
***
Mingyu wakes up to the faint light of dawn spilling through his window, his head pounding and his mouth dry. He groans, rolling over to escape the sun, the movement jostling his phone. The screen lights up, and a single notification stares back at him.
Wonwoo.
His chest tightens as he unlocks it with a quick swipe.
âSaw you sneak out right after midnight. Whyâd you leave without saying bye?â
The ache from last night resurfaces in full force, pressing against his ribs.
Wonwoo noticed.
He should feel something goodârelief, maybe, or a flicker of gratitude. Wonwoo, who was so absorbed in Seokmin and the celebration, still managed to catch the moment Mingyu slipped away. But all it does is twist the knife in his chest. Wonwoo noticed, but he didnât come after him. He didnât ask him to stay.
Mingyuâs fingers tremble as he types a reply. He deletes it. Types again. Deletes it.
What can he even say? That he left because the sight of Wonwoo kissing someone else was too much? That heâs spent years choking down feelings that only seem to grow sharper the harder he tries to swallow them?
âCanât you just try? Just once, see what itâs like to love me backâ is what Mingyu has wanted to type out for almost a decade. But he doesnât. He never does. Instead, his hand falls limp, letting the phone drop onto the mattress.
The promise he made just hours agoâto move on, to stop torturing himself with hopeâfeels impossible now. Another resolution broken before it even began.
He rolls over, pulling the covers over his head, as if that can shut out the pain.
He wonât be getting over Wonwoo this year either.
Re: [FILL] anything for you
Re: [FILL] anything for you
[REMIX] for us
Major Tags: unrequited love
Additional Tags: a different NYE
Permission to remix: Yes
***
hi its me again
âHow long has it been for you?â
â...Years. You?â
â...Years.â
*
It was obvious that it was a stupid, terrible idea right from the start, but neither of them are willing to be the one to call it off first. Maybe neither of them can, anymoreâgrown too addicted to burying their sorrows in a warm body, the curdled empathy they feel from constantly returning to the embrace of someone who understands exactly how they feel. Having someone to project onto, or escape with, as the case may be.
In the evenings Mingyu bites bruises into Minghaoâs pale thighs and wishes they were someone elseâs. He would do the same to the meat of his neck, his chest, but there are rules about where heâs allowed to leave a mark. He leaves lighter kisses there anyways and closes his eyes to the desperate swirl of his imagination.
Minghao grinds against Mingyu and leaves bruising fingerprints in the meat of his hips, head bowed. They each bury a name in their kisses and groans when they come. Sometimes they donât quite manage to stifle the sound of them at all. Sometimes Minghao gasps out not-quite wordsâsometimes he says things in Chinese that arenât meant for Mingyuâs ears.
The whole arrangement is just a little terrible and bad and he doesnât quite feel better afterwards, but he canât get enough of it, either.
Itâs better to keep carrying his torch while doing something, right?
*
The year feels like it both went in a flash and overstayed its welcome, molasses-thick in progressing. Against all oddsâwell, against the bitter hopes that sometimes swell in Mingyuâs heartâWonwoo and Seokmin are still together, and Wonwoo is once again hosting the party to ring in the new year. Mingyu had at least been spared from helping to set up; he would have, if Wonwoo asked it of him. He wishes he did.
And Seokmin, at least, had heard something about his arrangement with Minghao, briefly flitting away from Wonwooâs side to congratulate them both.
âMingyu! Minghao! I never would have thought it of the two of you,â he says cheerily, lifting his glass in a loose toast as his eyebrows dance. Minghao quickly hides a pained look when Seokminâs eyes turn to him, and Mingyuâs chest cramps in sympathy. It looks just as bad from the outside as it feels.
Seokmin returns to Wonwoo and exchanges his glass for an easy kiss, and Mingyu canât look away from the colours shifting over his face.
Minghao never comments on how he looks when left in Wonwooâs wake, and heâll return the favour.
*
The countdown to the new year begins, and as always his eyes inevitably drift back to Wonwoo. Heâs saying something to Seokmin, heads tilted towards each other and small smiles playing on their faces. Itâs a smooth transition into a sweet kiss as the seconds tick over, and cheers fill the room.
Mingyu sighs and shares a quiet toast with Minghao. They drain their glasses. The alcohol burns as it slides down his throat.
*
Theyâre both tall, and thin, but Minghaoâs lithe dancer body is otherwise a poor replacement for the reassuring hold he yearns for. It makes him consider how badly he must be doing as a substitute for Seokminâor maybe thatâs the point, for Minghao, to plaster over the ache with something so deliberately out of place, as if there was nothing for him to long for in the first place.
He doesnât ask, and Minghao doesnât offer.
Re: [REMIX] for us
lovehate it.Re: [REMIX] for us
Re: [REMIX] for us
Re: [FILL] anything for you