2022 Round 1: 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 "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." "What is grief, if not love persevering?" "You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath" Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. Each prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, and more. Steal from a literary classic, or WeVerse drama. Have fun! Examples Minghao + Ocean Vuong The most beautiful part of your body is where it's headed. & remember, loneliness is still time spent with the world. Ocean Vuong - night sky with exit wounds Hoshi/Anyone; "Beauty is terror" Thinking about these two quotes together and the idea of on/off-stage personas: "Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful we tremble before it. And what could be more terrifying or beautiful, to the Greeks to to our own, than to lose control completely?" - Donna Tartt, the Secret Histories "I am calm in everyday life but when I put on my in-ear device and step on stage, I can feel the tension and hear the cheers getting louder as the music gets louder. When the staff tells me it's time to step on stage, I feel something boil inside me. I feel it steaming inside and I think I have to give a burst of something, spill what is inside me." - Hoshi in Hit the Road Ep. 04 Any ship; "It's been so many years" Hello, hello there, is this Martha? This is old Tom Frost And I am calling long distance Don't worry 'bout the cost. 'Cause it's been forty years or more Now Martha please recall Meet me out for coffee Where we'll talk about it all. Tom Watts - Martha 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 to something interesting; Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want! <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; Change the subject to [FILL], you may add a title or stay chaotic; 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 DATES FAQ BAITS ✧ FILLS ✧ ❮ ROUND 1: QUOTES ❯ ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES ROUND 3: LAST WORDS

Comments

[FILL] ...and back again

[seasignals]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Idolverse, Lovers to Coworkers, referenced Minghao/OC (or pick your favorite of his Chinese celeb friends)
Permission to remix: Yes

slides in extremely late. i'm not sure how well this fits the prompt... i'm not sure what this is at all... but i was so intrigued by this combination of quotes!

***

When Minghao comes back to Seoul, he is in love.

It takes Mingyu a while to notice. First, for the obvious reasons: Jun and Minghao have to quarantine, and then there are the rehearsals for the shows they can’t participate in and the end-of-the-year concert itself. And beyond that, Mingyu’s learned to respect the space Minghao asked for, learned it so well that it’s become comfortable. Minghao wouldn’t bristle anymore if he caught him looking too long, just give him a quizzical little smile. But Mingyu doesn’t look too long.

Except in a break during the rehearsals for the GDAs, when he catches Minghao curled up against the mirror, grinning at his phone. He’s lit from within; love animates him. He’s always been painfully slow at typing, but his fingers are flying. Mingyu knows the impulse, remembers what it’s like to look around and need to tell someone everything you see, as if that could bring them to you. Lost in thought, Minghao thumbs his lower lip, feeling the curve of his own happiness.

Don’t touch your mouth if you haven’t washed your hands, Mingyu thinks crossly. He’s pretty sure he’s told Minghao that before, but it didn’t stick.

>>

In the car coming back from the GDAs, Minghao’s on his phone again the second the window rolls up and he stops waving to fans. He doesn’t bother hiding his screen from Mingyu; they both know he can’t read a word on it. There’s not even a telling emoji saved by the other person’s name.

“What did you do on New Year’s?” Mingyu asks, to fill the silence. The manager who’s driving has put on some moody indie music he actually does like, but it’s nowhere near enough.

Not looking up, Minghao shrugs. “I called my parents. And some other people. That’s about it.”

And some other people. No shit. “Why didn’t you go out with Jun-hyung?”

Minghao taps a long finger against the side of his phone case. “What do you want me to say? I didn’t feel like it. Nothing to do with him.”

They’re stalled at what feels like the longest red light in the world, and the indie band is singing about a faithless lover. “I feel bad,” starts Mingyu, “since you were by yourself on your birthday and Christmas…”

Minghao turns to really look at him. He has a terribly open way of looking at people, as if everyone else was hiding behind some kind of film and only he figured out how to peel it away. That is not how he is looking at Mingyu now. “I’m not saying this to be mean, but it just isn’t any of your business. Anyway, I like being by myself.”

He wants so badly to make this a fight, but there’s nothing he can do with another person listening. Minghao is always kind to the staff by default, but he sometimes seems to forget they are there.

Before Mingyu can think of a diplomatic thing to say, Minghao’s phone buzzes and he is thousands of kilometers away.

>>

Mingyu throws away his pride and asks Jun about it.

“Ah.” Jun’s smiling like he’s a little embarrassed for both of them. For all three of them, for being in this situation. “I think if you asked Hao and he didn’t tell you, it’s not for me to say.”

He hadn’t, of course, asked Minghao.

<<

“Why did you post that?” Minghao had demanded, back in May. “You said we were over, so act like it.”

He posted the picture on the group's anniversary because it made him smile. A beautiful morning, dazzling sunlight, Minghao laughing for the first time in days.

“You’re still my best friend,” Mingyu said, and Minghao whitened.

They’d been so mature about it. You weren’t supposed to be able to break up with your bandmate and then keep going like nothing happened, but they’d talked it over. Talked it to death. The whole thing had begun as an accident, an uncontrollable freefall, but he thought they’d pulled off a graceful landing. Still—

“Sometimes it feels like—I don’t know. You’re making this really hard for me. I need to be my own person,” Minghao said, and Mingyu stared.

“You’ve always been your own person,” he said. “Probably more than anyone I know. If you don’t feel that way, I don’t know if I can help you.”

>>

“I’m sorry I was rude to you the other day,” Minghao says. “After the awards,” he clarifies, when Mingyu looks at him uncomprehendingly.

That had been more than a few days ago, but Minghao has always operated on his own sense of time. Besides, he’s been away with Seungcheol and Soonyoung. He must have wanted to wait and say it in person.

“It’s nothing,” he says, offhand, but it’s impossible to brush Minghao off when he wants to make a point.

“I was lonely, but I didn’t want to admit it. I should have just said that.” A deep breath. “Coming back—being back—has been more complicated than I thought it would be. But I want you to know I did miss you. I’m happy to see you again. And I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

He could easily have said I did miss you all. I’m happy to see you all again. It doesn’t start the spark it would have once, when every reunion was like fireworks. After all, they’d both made it clear that they owed each other no special privilege. This is what it’s like, he thinks, to truly be over it. A girl he’d dated in high school got engaged a few months ago; when he saw the announcement, all he felt was a distant pleasure, a pride on her behalf. That is what it will be like.

He should finally broach the question, like Jun assumed he had. But he doesn’t.

“I’m happy to see you too.”

Re: [FILL] do you feel it too?

[seasignals]

oh, i love this so much... the characterization is so clear and sharp, especially in the way josh keeps trying to evade and keep things easy, and vernon going against his nature and really pushing because it's something that genuinely matters! the mismatched communication styles that aren't really an obstacle because they both know each other so well! the recurring scientific motif also really gets me... thank you for writing this </3 <3

[FILL] in the midst of a red ocean

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Jeonghan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: succession-typical mindfuckery and language, sexual content
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Jeonghan wishes he could eat his words. His hand hovers over Mingyu’s for a moment and he stares at their skin, both discolored and bruised by arbitrary shadows and low lights. “And you’re sure? About all this?”

Mingyu takes a healthy swig from his beer. He already came to the dive bar drunk off his ass and he’s still drinking. Poison on poison. “‘Course I am.” He pulls the baseball cap down lower on his head and he fixes beady eyes on Jeonghan. “I’m a big boy now. Of course I can handle some bullshit management training. I’ll fuckin’— I’ll fuckin’ murder it.”

Jeonghan takes a tiny sip of the White Russian in front of him. Mingyu had ordered for him earlier, perhaps some small gesture of gratitude. As if the things they do together could ever be just genial and nice and normal for once.

He winces as the sweetness and cream cloy his tongue. Jeonghan isn’t here to be seduced. He wants something else. Something less agreeable.

“No need to be so vulgar. Just— just do me a solid and don’t murder anyone,” Jeonghan chides, but he’s smiling halfheartedly. “Not sure if we can risk it after your buddy Jungkook’s latest stunt,” he mutters under his breath.

“Well, fuck you t—wait, what did you just say?”

“Oh.” Jeonghan laughs politely. “Nothing important. Just ignore me.”

Mingyu purses his mouth, displeased, but he just leans back in the seat. Drops it. He’s always been smarter than he looks and Jeonghan knows this to be truer than anything. Ever since Mingyu inherited the company and had to hand it over Eunwoo and Jaehyun because he couldn’t get his shit sorted out. Sure, people talk shit and insult him to his face but Jeonghan’s been on the frontlines. He knows Mingyu. He knows what it’s like to be taken for someone he isn’t and knows what approval can do to people like them.

“Fine,” Mingyu says. “I already asked Seokmin and I asked Seungkwan but I won’t ask you.”

“I would tell you, but— you know. In case it jeopardizes… things in the future.”

Jungkook is hanging on by a weak thread. He’s about to lose his spot on the board and if Mingyu finds out why he’ll go down with him too.

“In case it jeopardizes things in the future,” Mingyu parrots, rolling his eyes. Despite looking drunk and a little greasy, his symmetrical face glows. “If you keep giving me meaningless excuses, they’ll become platitudes,” he states matter-of-factly, shit-eating grin coaxes the sharp canines towards his lips. “Nothing more than horse shit coming out of your sweet little mouth. All of your quotables could be on the front of some cheap ass Hallmark greeting card.” He nods encouragingly. “How’s that for a fuckin’ knowledge bomb?”

Jeonghan scoffs. “That’s extremely sad to hear. I’ll try to think of something meaningful to tell you and Hallmark, then.”

Mingyu puts his bottle down on the sleek table. When he grins it blinds Jeonghan—it’s too much all at once. “Don’t ever say I never help you out, Jeonghannie,” he teases. “Jjongjongie.”

“Stop it,” Jeonghan groans, smacking his arm. “Don’t call me that shit.”

“Why not? I thought you liked nicknames. You always call Wonwoo Wonungie and Soonyoung Hoshingie.”

“Okay? We’re colleagues. Friends, even.”

“Okay. You used to call Seungcheol Dda—“

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jeonghan cuts in, pursing his lips tightly.

“You like nicknames,” Mingyu insists, deciding it for him. “How come I don’t get one?”

This motherfucker. “You have one, obviously,” Jeonghan admits. He should be drunk right now. Why isn’t he drunk?

Mingyu narrows his eyes. “You’re fucking me. You incorrigible, nepotist little serpent. Why are you fucking me?”

Everyone’s fucking over everyone in their line of work. Sometimes, Jeonghan feels a weird sense of loyalty to Mingyu. He’s never been the emotionally sensitive type, usually cleaning up corporate shitshows out of duty and maybe spite but otherwise playing both sides in the family feud like Italy. Jeonghan doesn’t mind being the self-serving bystander in the midst of all this. It’s a means of survival.

But looking after Mingyu feels scary and wrong, like standing on the roof of a building with no real intent to jump. And there’s the even scarier off-chance that part of it is instinctual. Have you ever wanted to care for somebody who’s perpetually at their fucking lowest? Maybe it’s not up to Jeonghan to decide for himself anymore.

Jeonghan shakes his head no. “I’m really not.”

“Oh.” Mingyu’s ears flush deep red. He nervously scratches the back of his head. “Could I maybe… could I maybe hear it?”

Jeonghan pauses dramatically. He makes a dumb face just to fuck with him. “I’m not sure, but…”

Mingyu leans in closer, taking the bait. “But?”


“That’s not what we’re here for,” Jeonghan hisses, lowering his voice into something breathier and feeling all the more sinister for it. He tucks some loose hair behind his ear and tilts his head at the bathroom door. “Is it?”

Mingyu stills with understanding. He nods and licks his lips, drawing back from the table.

“Right,” he says solemnly. “It isn’t.”

-

Jeonghan angrily wipes his hand on tissue paper once they hurry out of the handicapped stall, whirling around to face Mingyu in the mirror.

“The excitement outweighs the actual risk of us getting caught,” he recites mockingly back to Mingyu. “You overgrown asshole,” he hisses, fastidiously adjusting his shirt collar. “Why were you so fucking loud? Someone almost walked in on us!”

“That’s the exciting part!” Mingyu throws his hands out, exasperated. “That’s the whole fuckin’ point of fuckin’ doing this!”

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan whispers, rubbing his left temple. “What am I doing? What the hell am I doing with you?”

“Helping me fix my early-onset erectile dysfunction,” Mingyu grumbles, shutting the tap water off. He petulantly flicks the water from his hands and Jeonghan glares when the droplets land on him. “Did you want a fucking cookie?”

“I mean, I don’t know—your pathetic cock seemed to be functioning just fine when I was giving you the worst handie in your entire life.”

“Jeonghan.” Mingyu blinks a few times and breathes out his nose. “Enough with the insults.” He looks down sadly at his overpriced denim jeans, a warning tone in his voice. “I’m about to get hard again.”

Jeonghan heaves out a miserable, miserable sigh. He hopes he’s just imagining it but the joints in his hands are starting to ache. Fuck a handjob! Mingyu is literally giving him arthritis.

“Good God,” he mumbles. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

-

Mingyu doesn’t always come, but he at least keeps Jeonghan satisfied.

He supposes he’ll make do with that alone.

-

“You should probably start seeing someone.”

They’re both fully clothed, laying on top of the duvet on Joshua’s luxuriously furnished guest room. Staring up at the stark white ceiling to avoid everything else.

Mingyu turns his head and glances at Jeonghan over his fake glasses. “Why’d you say that? I’m already seeing you.”

Jeonghan sighs. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Fine. What should I do, tell a fugly hack of a blue-check sex therapist that I get off to you degrading me? That’s probably vanilla to her.”

“No, I think you should tell her you want me to call you weird shit. Like… like a revolting… little… slime… puppy.” He watches Mingyu’s expression go dark. “You’re so sick.”

“That’s actually pretty good,” Mingyu says very quietly. He exhales, slow and measured like Jeonghan’s really giving him a thrill. “I’ve always wanted to be your puppy.”

“See?” Jeonghan’s arms drop onto the mattress in exasperation. “You clearly need professional help.”

“Aren’t you a professional?” Mingyu rolls over onto his stomach and grabs Jeonghan’s hand, slowly bringing it down to the cleft of his ass cheek. Jeonghan tells himself he’s letting it happen.

“Come fix me up,” Mingyu says, voice sultry. “Doc.”

He already looks breathless. Jeonghan’s knobbly fingers tighten grasp tight flesh. He imagines himself pulling on Mingyu's scalp by his soft hair and fucking him to death, watching his larger frame give out underneath him.

Oh, the debauchery.

“Fuck me ‘til I’m right again,” Mingyu murmurs. He lets out a broken laugh but recovers quickly. “Hm? Wouldn’t you like that for me? For us?”

He could say, There’s no us. Laugh it off and agree to tell him something nasty just to hold him over for the night.

He could say, There’s no us, because we’re barely even here, because we’ve gone extinguished and turned skeletal trying to force every whim and desire our way. He could tell him this is all just some sick, perverted dollhouse game of marriage and business and vitriol and they’re wasting their time hiding their silly little fling, trying to stay afloat.

Jeonghan won’t say anything, though. If Mingyu’s Player One, then he’ll be Player Two. Simple as that.

Jeonghan gets up and sits on his knees so he can grope Mingyu’s ass. He lightly touches the small of his back.

Listens to Mingyu choke out a pleased sigh. Sounds like no one’s touched him there in a long time. This could work.

Jeonghan doesn't know if he possesses the bandwidth to be whatever Mingyu keeps asking for, but how could that matter now that he’s got so much in his hands?

An excess of sheer power. A warm body next to his and the sweet taste of its greed. How could he ever deny it?

[FILL] i see you at the end

[asterismo_s]

Ship/Member: Vernon/Seungkwan
Major Tags: Magical Realism, Long Distance Relationship
Additional Tags: dreams as a means to be close to you, do you ever just pull inspiration from disparate media from your childhood and fumble them all together into a vague magical world, yeah… yeah!
Permission to remix: yes, please!!! and if anyone even wanted to expand this concept to another ship/fandom, i think that’d be so cool

i kinda ran out of ideas by the end, but truly if anyone wanted to come talk to me about this concept i would be so!! excited!!!

I'm walking through the dawn

As if I could blow away the rest of today

When I look up, I feel like I could touch it

I endured this day with sighs as I match my

foolish steps with the flowing stars

-Lee Changsub, "At The End"

---
It’s difficult, them meeting here. They’re on completely different sides of the world– he in New York City and Seungkwan in Seoul, and so their sleep schedules… barely even match up.

And it’s not like Seungkwan can always find his way to the dream world–– He’s not as good at directing his mind here, not the way that Vernon can. So the only thing worse than him spending the whole night alone by this lone castle in an endless expanse of desert (they’d found it together; this part of the ever-shifting dream landscape– that never moves, never changes) was when he’d turn at the sound of his name and see Seungkwan’s dear figure running over the dunes towards him, arms wide open –– before his alarm would blare next to his ear, rudely awakening him to another day.

But they make it work. Phone calls, video calls, all of the typical markers of a long-distance relationship. But their meetings in the dream world are special, tangible. For if Vernon cannot have Seungkwan with him during his waking hours, he’ll sure as hell ruin his sleep schedule to hold him in his dreams.
---
Even when he was a child, Vernon’s dreams have always been–– a fantastical, untamed landscape. Not in a terrifying way, but he didn’t have any control, not yet. But one night when he was five, he finally found his mother in the midst of a lush jungle, where she then took his hand and taught of the Sandman, of dream sand.

The Sandman, in her words, was a master artist–– an architect, even. All day long, he loved to weave together new wonders for those with the power and imagination to access this world in their dreams… an oasis for their weary and tired minds. And his medium of choice, the dream sand, was a wondrous thing that could shift and meld to fit whatever vision the Sandman had decided upon that day–– although, she’d paused to laugh, the Sandman doesn’t really stop to think about the time of day, since he takes care of the dream sands for everyone in the world to come, whenever they find the time to rest.

These are the things that my mother taught to me, and that her mother taught to her, and her mother before her, Vernon’s grandmother told him as she cradled his small body close to her. Every person in the world could be connected through this dream world, (a patchwork quilt of everyone’s dreams, she’d called it) but those closest to you–– it’s easiest to find them there. When your hearts and minds are aligned, you can always find your way to each other.
---
Tonight, they are lucky. Or, really, it had taken meticulous planning to maximize their time together now: checking and double-checking work schedules and appointments, a few nights of deliberate sleep deprivation.

But it’s worth it, and it’s always so quiet, in this small corner of the world that they’ve found for themselves– sometimes Vernon even wonders if they'd built it themselves. Or that somehow the Sandman had heard tell of their circumstances, and extended this small bit of compassion to them. And for that, Vernon is so thankful. Because Vernon…

Vernon wishes he could bury himself into Seungkwan's ribs, or that he could swallow him whole. Sometimes he feels as if the two of them were once one cohesive whole, then split into two— it's impossible to tell where he ends, or Seungkwan begins.

And just when he’s starting to doubt, starts to rationalize that Seungkwan would never sink into such thoughts, he’s just being melodramatic with how much he misses having Seungkwan with him, right then–– Seungkwan will turn to him with his clear, open eyes and say plainly, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

And Vernon’s arms will wrap closer around his beloved before he lies, “No, you’ve never. Tell me again.”

tell your baby that i’m your baby

[icarusundone]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Mingyu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: dogs, video game spawning logic
Permission to remix: No

***

Wonwoo keeps collecting dogs. His newest acquisition is squirming in his hands, its wide eyes balefully looking up at him.

“Please don’t,” Wonwoo says right before the dog leans up and licks his face, covering his glasses in slobber. “Ugh.” Contrary to his disgust, he carefully places the dog down. It promptly runs off, presumably to terrorize what little he has left to destroy. Dogs one through nine already chewed through everything that could be chewed through (and some things that couldn’t) and the rest continued to lay claim to his entire apartment.

He’s running out of space to keep the dogs. Minghao keeps giving him pityingly looks whenever he visits and Junhui has started to steer clear of his apartment, claiming that his cat Miantiao gets agitated by the scent of dogs.

It’s not like I wanted to be a dog person, Wonwoo wants to yell. It’s not like he chose to have this magical ability to spawn dogs whenever he thinks of—

Another dog appears in his hands.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo says. The dog takes this opportunity to lick his face. “Not again.”



The first dog had followed him home. Wonwoo had thought it was a stray and kept his distance, but then the dog had darted between his ankles and slipped into the apartment, and after a panicked call to Minghao, who had showed up at his door unimpressed but nonetheless helped take the dog to the vet, and a newly acquired clean bill of health, Wonwoo was the begrudging caretaker for a dog.

“Can’t you take care of it?” he had pleaded to Minghao, who simply raised an eyebrow as they both watched the dog gnaw at a throw blanket.

“Have you seen my place,” Minghao replied. Wonwoo had. He’s sure that the dog wouldn’t chew through that many bolts of cloth or lay waste to Minghao’s sketchbooks.

They continued to watch as the dog decided that the daily newspaper was a better source of nutrition.

“Good luck,” Minghao said dryly.



Wonwoo started naming his dogs after the fifth one appeared. Before then, he had been hoping that it was a coincidence, that he somehow turned into a dog charmer overnight. Then his mind had drifted off and he made the mistake of thinking about another puppylike figure in his life and Dog Number Five blinked into existence in his hands.

“Sherlock, please stop,” he begs. Sherlock, formerly known as Dog Number Five and not named after the SHINee song, no matter what Soonyoung says, predictably ignores him, dashing off into the distance, his leash flying behind him like a scarf.

Wonwoo sprints to keep up with him. When Sherlock finally stops running at mach speed, distracted by a squirrel or something, Wonwoo bends over, pressing his hands to his knees, his shoulders heaving as he catches his breath.

“Woah boy,” someone says, their voice dissolving into giggles. “And what’s your name?”

Wonwoo looks up to see someone sitting down on the sidewalk, Sherlock pawing at their sweater and licking their face.

“It’s Sherlock,” Wonwoo says as he jogs up to the two. He’s about to apologize when the person looks up at him.

Mingyu tilts his head, reminding Wonwoo of a dog, (and that’s where the trouble began, wasn’t it). “Sherlock?”

“Short for Sherlock Bones,” Wonwoo says, looking Mingyu defiantly in the eyes and preparing for the response. He’s been teased enough by his friends.

Mingyu throws his head back and laughs, his laughter like sunshines and rainbows and all that pathetic fallacy bullshit. Sherlock joins in by barking along, and Wonwoo takes one unfiltered second to admire the scene and the lack of more dogs before his world comes crashing down.

Wonwoo witnesses a lag spike in real life. There’s no another way to describe it. One moment his ears are graced by Mingyu’s laughter and Sherlock’s barks, and then it’s pure cacophony, nothing but the sounds of dogs barking and howling as a horde of them render, paused in default form before the frame rate picks up again and they start running around. It’s literally raining dogs.

And above it all, Wonwoo still somehow hears a tiny meow. He’s half-convinced he’s hallucinated it since no cat will approach him within a mile radius now, but then his eyes zone in on the tiny ball of fluff in Mingyu’s hands that he’s certain wasn’t previously there. A tabby cat barely bigger than Mingyu’s palm turns its gaze to Wonwoo.

“You too?” Wonwoo asks.

Mingyu smiles sheepishly.



title from “i bet on losing dogs” by mitski

Re: tell your baby that i’m your baby

[bluerthanbluets]

smiled silly the whole time i was reading this. AAAAAAAAA THANK U SO MUCH FOR FILLING, THIS IS PERFECT AND MORE THAN WHAT I'D EVER IMAGINED WHEN I PROMPTED

looooveee everything here, the wonhao friendship, the little soonyoung mention, wonwoo's voice here:

It’s not like I wanted to be a dog person, Wonwoo wants to yell. It’s not like he chose to have this magical ability to spawn dogs whenever he thinks of—

Another dog appears in his hands.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo says. The dog takes this opportunity to lick his face. “Not again.”

+ SHERLOCK? SHORT FOR SHERLOCK BONES.

ehuehuehehe the comedic timing in everything!!! AND THE ENDING LMAO the lag spike and then the tabby cat! u are so cool for bringing it to this point, i thought halfway thru its gonna be a whole one sided thing w/ ww short end of the stick as usual etc. and yet! a tiny kitten for mingyu!!!!!!! wah so cute <3 enjoyed this so much! thanks for filling this :"D

Re: [FILL] in the midst of a red ocean

[kwontent]

my jaw was dropped THE WHOLE TIME i was reading this because every line was pERFECT and now im losing my whole fucking mind i can't fucking believe this ITS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS ENVISIONININNGNNGNGNNGNGNG

ok first of all... THE 97z AS THE SUCCESSION SIBS.... eunwoo and jaehyun running a company???? lol

Mingyu narrows his eyes. “You’re fucking me. You incorrigible, nepotist little serpent. Why are you fucking me?”
it's SO good it's so tasty it's so fucking elite, organic, prime, wagyu beef oh my god

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan whispers, rubbing his left temple. “What am I doing? What the hell am I doing with you?”

“Helping me fix my early-onset erectile dysfunction,” Mingyu grumbles.
ohhhhhhhhhhhhh my god oh my god oh my god

“Jeonghan.” Mingyu blinks a few times and breathes out his nose. “Enough with the insults.” He looks down sadly at his overpriced denim jeans, a warning tone in his voice. “I’m about to get hard again.”

ARE YOUUUUUU JOKINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG IS THIS A FUCKING JOKE

i can't believe this. i really can't. holy fucking shit. i would pay upwards of thousands of dollars to continue reading this holy fucking shit i know this is just me screaming at you which doesn't make it a very analytic comment but i have no analysis other than this is literally perfectly made and fully formed. oh my god

Re: tell your baby that i’m your baby

[icarusundone]

thanks so much for the prompt and the comment! i read the poem and i immediately was like, this would work great with video game logic
press f for wonwoo cat person spawning dogs at the thought of mingyu. i think he enjoys dad jokes and sherlock holmes, so sherlock bones <3
i do enjoy ww repressed pining but also tiny kitten too kyoot

FILL: bitter after

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan-centric
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: vaguely 2020 OTY tour; unrequited minwon; unrequited jeongcheol
Permission to remix: Please ask

consider: what if you were the one let go

***

The ground starts spinning as the last “Aju Nice” ends.

If Seungcheol were here, he'd be making that face. That you are my responsibility face, eyes wide with fire and worry that can't be silenced with a simple shrug.

As it were, Seungcheol is not present, and won't be for at least another couple of days. And as it were, Jeonghan isn't speaking to him. But that's another thing entirely.

Backstage, it's somehow hotter than it was under the spotlights. Hotter than the showers Jeonghan takes to attempt to steam some sort of energy out of his weary bones each morning. Than the flash of annoyance when someone asks him to consider taking a break on the next stop.

Luckily, the spinning has started to slow. It isn't the kind that makes Jeonghan’s chest cave in, a monster swallowing grief and repressed desires buried in his chest.
Someone is shouting for water over the chorus of tired sounds, and a manager is reaching for him with a concerned look on their face.

“Why don't we travel with a physician, again?” someone asks. One of the members. Maybe Minghao. He's right. He's heard that some groups even travel with a massage therapist. That sounds nice.

A sports drink gets pushed in Jeonghan’s hands, and he's drunk most of it by the time he finally sets his hands on the familiar black duffel bag that Mingyu had gifted him for his birthday.

There's still so many obligations to fulfill before send-off. His phone is nearly dead from the wave of notifications crashing in at turn-on, and there's still some filming to happen before turning in for the night.

Jeonghan’s gotten the right amount of bitch down to a science. Snippy enough that people given him a wide berth for most of tour, gleaning his sour mood from the handful of passive aggressive emoji in the groupchat pre-travel days.

There's something awful about being the one who everyone treads carefully around. Chronic fatigue has only gotten worse as time goes on. Seungkwan refuses to leave him alone, however, and deep down, they both know why.

A hand steadies him as he climbs into the hotel shuttle. Jeonghan barely remembers the flashing lights and screaming fans sending them off. Maybe there was a sign with his face on it that someone will mention later, or a Carat he'd held eye contact for a millisecond who found meaning in the micro-acknowledgment.

He genuinely hopes there was something there to give some small comfort, some positivity in how awful he feels. Later, he'll probably catch some video of himself with unseeing eyes, not knowing where the person wearing his face has gone.

Wordlessly, Wonwoo sets acetaminophen in his lap. It's sealed in a tiny medicine bag, paired off with something that looks like one of the supplements Jeonghan left back at the hotel. He takes it with the last bit of what's in the bottle and sets his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says into the scarf Wonwoo is using as a makeshift pillow. His hum of acknowledgement vibrates through Jeonghan’s body.

“Any time.”

----

🍊 boo seungkwan
[11:38 am]
food in jun and shua’s room
mingyu was looking for u but left with wonu earlier

🐰 yoon jeonghan
[1:53 pm]
ah is there still food
jk kyeomie is here

[2:40 pm]
are they still filming
where is mingyu now

----

Mingyu’s room is single-occupancy, but still filled to the brim with supplies to feed thirteen people and their crew. Typically, they keep a room just for snacks for the members to grab, but Mingyu had jumped at the opportunity to get some alone time. Jeonghan can’t say he blames him for snagging slices of silence where he can get them.

He ends up drifting there in the evening, head in Mingyu’s lap. Jeonghan toys with the strings of his hoodie, staring blankly at the TV. God, his English sucks. Nothing makes sense.

“What did you do today?”
Jeonghan had finally peeled himself out of bed around 3 pm to take a walk, finding their floor unsurprisingly silent. Flights to the next city start departing early in the morning after, so maximizing any off time is a priority.

He feels helpless when they're overseas in cities where he doesn't speak the language. No amount of research can settle the bubbling unease each time an unfamiliar scenario arises. Staying close to the hotel until they end up splitting off for dinner is safe.

Mingyu talks about the museum he’d traversed to in the early afternoon, showing off pictures from his day. Even for shots taken on his iPhone, the photo quality is miles above anything that Jeonghan has ever taken. Not that he’s ever taking anything past half-face selcas to send off to his sister these days.

Were things different, he'd send them to Seungcheol. Find the courage to say the words I miss you when they're written down. But that moment has long passed.

Jeonghan’s stomach grumbles loud enough that it interrupts their conversation, and Jeonghan drops into the theatrics, draping an arm over his eyes. “Hey. Feed me.”

Mingyu snorts. His attention is back on his phone. Jeonghan catches a glimpse of KaTalk on his screen. The name he sees is unsurprising.

“Feed yourself. The microwave is right there.”

Packs of instant noodles line the chair furthest from the door from the staff’s last grocery run. It's almost certain that they'll give him a sodium headache, but it's about the principle of the thing, really.

Mingyu threads his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair, letting the strands drape over his fingers. It’s a good sign that he’ll cave. He keeps the small talk going to wear Mingyu down, and the TV flicks to something that looks familiar. Jeonghan can't understand more than half of the dialogue, so he keeps talking.

Mingyu pulls a throw over both of them, Jeonghan’s body and Mingyu’s legs. He smells warm. Jeonghan curls into his hoodie even more, fabric over fists.

“So,” Jeonghan finally comes to a stop, yawning. Mingyu’s fingers are still in his hair, brushing the bangs back.

“So?”

“How long was Wonwoo here for?”

Mingyu stills at being caught.

“Long enough.”

“No need to be defensive.”

Jeonghan heaves himself into Mingyu’s lap with a soft groan. Legs over legs, thigh over thigh. Mingyu’s ears are burning red, face matches the hue.

“You're reading into it too much,” Mingyu stares past him, suddenly taken with a toothpaste commercial.

He may be a decent actor, but he's a terrible liar.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Mingyu crosses his arms then, eyes jumping back to Jeonghan. He can hear the pout in his voice when he says, “No,” and “There’s nothing to say, hyung,” lisp hyper prominent and dripping poorly concealed annoyance.

Jeonghan raises a hand on his cheek.

Mingyu’s hackles retract.

“You know you can talk to me about this.”

The defense falters for the briefest of seconds.

“There's really nothing to say.”

There’s something unfathomable about loving someone so much that every second by their side in any circumstance doesn't feel like enough.

Mingyu moves out from under Jeonghan, suddenly busying himself with making him food. He knows deep down it was a cruel direction to take, one that will sit heavy in his gut.

What’s in Mingyu’s eyes is reflected in Jeonghan’s, opposite ends of the same moving stream.

Re: [Fill] The Way You Make Me Out to Be

[leomoonwonu]

THE WAY I HAVEN'T COME BACK AND REPLIED TO YOU SDLFKJSDFKLJ THANK YOU AS ALWAYS MY DEAR IT'S LIKE YOU LIVE IN MY BRAIN TRULY <333333333

Re: [Fill] The Way You Make Me Out to Be

[leomoonwonu]

AAAAAAAAAA thank you so much T_T This was so fun to work on!! Sometimes I feel like every Meanie I write is the same one but I just have to keep saying the things I need to say <333

Re: [Fill] the mess you made

[leomoonwonu]

the fun thing about 17hols is I can just type out half formed brain worms and that's fine! This makes me feel just BANANAS!!!

Re: [FILL] ode to the has-been (where did the party go?)

[leomoonwonu]

Thank you so much!!! It was short but I had a great time writing it <3333

Re: [FILL] ode to the has-been (where did the party go?)

[leomoonwonu]

Love to be able to get people back with THROAM!! I totally agree! I think that it's inevitable that when you think of Seventeen, in spite of everyone participating in their process, it really comes down to Jihoon. Sorry for being former emo kid it's just that this is how my brain is wired! It was really fun to think about how much of himself he's actually putting out there (vs bandom for example, where things feel a little more "authentic") and what that must feel like in an idol context. you just keep getting me!!!

Re: [Fill] The Way You Make Me Out to Be

[leomoonwonu]

Thank you so much <333333

Re: [Fill] The Way You Make Me Out to Be

[leomoonwonu]

thank you so much!!! <3333

Re: [FILL] do you feel it too?

[madeoutcreek]

ahh i'm really glad you liked it! vershua... two guys trying their best... i do love them <3 thanks for this sweet comment!!

Re: FILL: bitter after

[dumbo1510]

Oh.. my. God... The longing.. ugh i don't want this to end 😭

(Thank you for this 🥺)

Re: FILL: bitter after

[infrequencies]

thank you for reading!! <3

Re: [FILL] do you feel it too?

[madeoutcreek]

wow thank you for this lovely comment! i have to admit i kept it in my inbox for a little bc i loved reading it T___T you're very kind and i'm really happy to hear you enjoyed my joshua hong extrapolations LOL

the science bit was kind of out of the blue? i guess it's just a way for me to rationalize repression, i'm so glad it worked for u while reading. i have a lot of thoughts abt vernon and joshua separately so yeah!!! steady bros! you get it :D

Re: FILL: i thought it'd be harmless

[stickie]

*inhuman screeching* ahhhh, i love this to death. honestly not sure how to verbalize exactly how much i love this, but /i thought it'd be harmless/ just makes it feel gutwrenching. the irresistible pull of wonwoo even though mingyu doesn't feel like maybe he fits into that world at all is sooo good and perfectly written. ahhh, i just wanna scream for minghao but also like T.T they should be together. ahhh, this was a wonderful bite-sized morsel to get all my brain sparks zinging and happy. thank you so much!

[REMIX]: from the dead: a sense of scale

[deadwine]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jeonghan, implied Wonwoo/Mingyu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: spies au, im not saying triangulations but am i, brief descriptions of violence and murder, richard fucking siken
Permission to remix: Yes
Remix 4/5

A/N: Honestly I wrote this trying to get myself out of a really bad slump so if it makes no sense it's because I was trying not to second guess myself and I didn't make any edits after writing.(sorry for the mess, lilli TT)

***


Jeon Wonwoo has pretty fingers with knuckles that jut outwards in a way that should be off-putting but only makes Jeonghan want to bring them to his lips.

He has a haunted face, stricken with the possibility of its own self even as it tries—always too hard—to not give anything away.

Jeonghan knows the type.

His type.

Being a part of the shadows means knowing that the light always touch darkness somewhere, means knowing that it isn’t the absence of light that makes darkness but the constant, active bending of light by someone who knows it’s truth: it’s corruptible.

Jeonghan’s been that someone in his own life for as long as he can remember.
Though if ever asked he’d claim to flit between the glowing valleys where the living stake their claim because he had no choice, it’s only that by the time he found any sign of yearning to turn back on what he had chosen for himself, it was easier to quash the signs of any weak emotion than attempt to escape, unscathed. Freedom wasn’t a luxury affordable to any paid liar.

Jeon Wonwoo isn’t a novelty, the first time he runs into Jeonghan in his latest hideout in Daegu—Seokmin’s crooning only his third number of the night on stage while Jeonghan nurses iced water under the guise of vodka, eyes fixed on Kim Mingyu draping himself over the new face in the corner table like he hadn’t almost let a target get away just an hour before forcing Jeonghan to get his hands dirty.

The new face returns next day, traces of Kim Mingyu scattered all under his open collar, red peeking out of his uncuffed sleeves and last night’s coat hanging over his shoulders. Jeonghan knows if he draws him close enough for the perspiration on their glasses to touch, he’d be drowning in the scent of Mingyu’s cologne.

Jeonghan keeps his distance and allows himself to look.

It takes another month before Jeonghan is approached by him—Jeon Wonwoo, Jeonghan catches him share with Seokmin one early evening when Seokmin’s got his shimmery bodice artfully half-opened a hyung, could you please falling from his lips oh so demurely. Wonwoo scrambles to help him and it ticks Jeonghan off, a flare burning up under his skin and he knows he’s going to give Seokmin the cold shoulder for the night, just to let him suffer. Seokmin’s no saint but Jeonghan’s not going to tell Wonwoo, who should know how to tell the difference himself.

At least with Jeonghan, you can always plainly see everything that you’re about to get coming to you.

When Wonwoo finally approaches him, Jeonghan’s at the corner table where Mingyu had straddled Wonwoo four weeks ago—not that either of them are thinking about it; Jeonghan certainly isn’t.

“May I join you?” Wonwoo hesitates before drawing the chair on the opposite side and Jeonghan knows immediately he’d clocked him right. He’ll have to be careful to not mention this to Seokmin. He’d hate to hear Jeonghan hyung, you’ ve got a type drawled into the dip behind his ear.

It’s not really a type if everybody’s looking for a place inside of someone else, is it? All Jeonghan is doing is facilitating them, saying come in with doors wide open.

Maybe a second maybe ten whole minutes later, Jeonghan smiles with a slight tip of his head back before he nods.

Wonwoo takes the seat and flags a waiter with his left hand.

Up close, he looks younger, something so fresh about his pale cheeks and the nervous tapping of his fingers on the tabletop. And yet Jeonghan knows he’s old enough to have seen a death or a couple by the force of his own hands, knows that Jeonghan maybe held responsible for toying with his feelings but can never be pulled up for doing so with his life.

“So what’s your name?” Wonwoo finally asks and Jeonghan can’t help the laugh that rumbles out of him.

Over their heads, the lamp bursts with a pop and Jeonghan feels Wonwoo’s knees knock into his before he hears the sharp intake of breath.

“Wonwoo-ssi,” He starts to answer, “You should’ve stayed where the light is.”

“I killed someone.” Wonwoo splurts out, at the same time. Even in the darkness, Jeonghan can see him pretend to wipe off sweat from the bangs falling over his forehead. He’s received at least minimal training then, that should make this all the more fun, thinks Jeonghan.

When the lights are restores, Jeonghan pretends to be captivated by the bar while Wonwoo watches him, knees still pressing under the table.

In Jeonghan’s dreams that night, Wonwoo’s knuckles brush over his cheekbones, too tender to have ever done a hard day’s work; his palms cradle Jeonghan’s face and his fingertips are too soft to have ever held somebody’s thrashing body down until it succumbed to the inevitable. In Jeonghan’s dreams, they never pretend to sleep.

Re: FILL: i thought it'd be harmless

[infrequencies]

thank you!!

Re: [FILL] you, in my memory

[stickie]

omgosh i loved this 😭😭 it was so sweet and cute. and ahhh *magic* does exist minghao, you silly head. this put a big smile on my face today. :)) thank you so much for writing!

Re: [REMIX]: from the dead: a sense of scale

[slytherminie]

oh you are SO COOL i love the jeonghan pov ;-; how you show that he's been craving as well but he's much better at trampling it down than wonwoo could ever dream of being, and the little hints at something with mingyu (and seokmin mmmmh he's interesting too) the way jeonghan oh-so-easily reads wonwoo and knows that he has a type but he doesn't want to admit it, not even to himself. ugh!!! you're so good.

Jeonghan’s been that someone in his own life for as long as he can remember.
Though if ever asked he’d claim to flit between the glowing valleys where the living stake their claim because he had no choice, it’s only that by the time he found any sign of yearning to turn back on what he had chosen for himself, it was easier to quash the signs of any weak emotion than attempt to escape, unscathed. Freedom wasn’t a luxury affordable to any paid liar.
this is my favourite part for some reason, it's just so !!!! incredible. you're incredible. mwah. i kiss your huge brain.