Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
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
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sometimes i want to give up myself just to be with you.
Major Tags: forgiveness
Additional Tags: n/a
Do Not Wants: none
Prompt:
[FILL] i want us to eat well
Major Tags: apologizing with actions instead of words bc if you said all that you felt it might be too much (and you never were good with words anyway)
Additional Tags:
forgiveness as something you earn instead of something that is given, food as a love language, love is hosted in the small things, the shame of saying i’m sorry so you do other things to hint at it, minor seokgyu antagonisms, but mostly they’re kind to one another, life advice guru minghao, nonfamous/slice of life AU
Permission to remix: please ask!!
wc: 1590
going for 5 of a kind — nonfamous/slice of life AU
the first thing i write in 2022 is going to be kind and warm and forgiving!!!! and i kind of ran away with this one (its always the seokgyu) but i hope you like it :’)
***
Seokmin is the first to break.
They’d gotten into one of their fights again. Like always, it started with a tiny little quip that Mingyu just could not let slide, even though Seokmin has made countless remarks like it before. Maybe that was the problem though, and like the metaphorical straw breaking the camel’s back, Seokmin’s words — meant to lighten and loosen the displeased lines that knit Mingyu’s brows together — became sharp and hurtful. They bruised instead of healed. Mingyu had gotten huffy, which in turn, made Seokmin huffy. He was just trying to help. Mingyu was also always trying to help. But in doing so, they’d inadvertently made things worse. The air soured between them, and they’d turned away from each other, steaming in their madness.
Like always, it ended in silence.
Seokmin slides the steaming bowl of seolleongtang towards Mingyu. Seokmin had put extra marrow in there when boiling the broth, because he wouldn’t hear the end of it if Mingyu took a sip and found it too bland to his liking. That was Mingyu though, always taking the time to nitpick at the tiny details instead of taking the gesture at its whole. Sometimes it was endearing. Sometimes it was incredibly exhausting.
So Seokmin has learned to prepare it the way Mingyu likes it. With all his years of living with Mingyu, Seokmin has long grown accustomed to the saltier taste anyways. No use in changing things now.
The bowl scrapes against the counter, shattering the quiet of the room. A little bit of soup splashes onto the counter just as the violence subsides. Mingyu glances down at the bowl in surprise.
“Eat,” Seokmin says, roughly but not unkindly. He grabs the ladle as an excuse for not looking Mingyu in the eye.
Seokmin can still feel Mingyu’s gaze on him, questioning, as he helps himself to a serving.
“While it’s still hot,” Seokmin gestures to the bowl with a meaningful tilt of his head.
Mingyu, ever obedient, picks up his spoon.
“Thank you for the meal.” Mingyu whispers it so Seokmin can pretend he didn’t hear it. They sit in begrudging silence for the rest of dinner. Shoulder to shoulder. Close enough that their thighs touch, elbows jostling into each other every time Seokmin or Mingyu take a sip of their soup. Even if it is by accident — or more likely, on purpose — they let the warmth of their bodies bleed into one another. To reassure the other person that they’re still there. That they’re not going anywhere.
Sometimes, this is enough.
Mingyu reaches over to grab Seokmin’s bowl when he’s done.
“I got the dishes,” he mutters, voice gruff. “You made dinner.”
Seokmin knows when to let things go. They’ve done this so many times he’s lost count. What is the same though, is how it ends.
“Alright.” Seokmin acquiesces.
Still, he stacks the rest of the plates neatly, the ceramic clacking as he carefully scrapes off any leftover scraps they missed. He wordlessly presents them to Mingyu when he’s done, who takes them with soapy hands and a quiet mouth.
When Mingyu’s done, he joins Seokmin in their bed. They curl up together, slotting together perfectly, like they’ve known only each other all their lives.
And then they do it all over again.
“Mingyu and I got into a fight,” Seokmin complains, grocery basket in hand.
“What is it this time,” Minghao sighs disparagingly, like he’s about to pass a higher form of judgement on Seokmin’s character. “Haven’t you guys run out of things to fight about?”
“No. Never,” Seokmin says mulishly, after pretending to take the time to think about it.
He’s whining, he knows, but he does so with the comfort of knowing that he’s known Minghao since childhood. He can act this way and all Minghao will be thinking is, Ah, Seokmin-ah, you haven’t changed a little bit, not at all. There’s no pressure to put on any act and pretend that the Seokmin standing here today is any better than the little kid he was, all those years ago. He still feels that age, especially with Mingyu by his side.
Minghao bumps his own cart along, frowning as he peers at the prices of the produce section. “Well,” he hums. “You guys will figure it out. Don’t these fights usually fix themselves?”
“I don’t know about this one,” Seokmin says mournfully, absentmindedly scanning the aisles and picking off stuff from the shelves to place in his basket. “Mingyu said he was, and I quote, ‘Getting a little tired of pizza’. Can you believe that? And I was like, well, if you’re getting so tired of pizza then maybe you can be in charge of making dinner for once — which, I know, is hard, since he just got the new promotion and his boss is making him work overtime like crazy. And I know, I know, I should be more supportive of him but did he really have to go at my pizza? I love making pizza, and Mingyu loves my pizza, Minghao, you know that, so for him to say that, it really hurt my feelings—“
Minghao stops to stare at him.
“What,” Seokmin asks, still irritated thinking about it.
“You put the Chapagetti in your basket. It’s Mingyu’s favorite.”
Seokmin huffs defensively, hand curling over his basket. “I know that. Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean that I don’t want him to eat well.”
Minghao mutters something to himself, something that suspiciously sounds like You guys need help, and stalks off.
Seokmin frowns at the space where his friend once stood. “Rude. I thought he said he was trying to be a better person this year. Self-actualization and all that.”
This fight lingers on longer than Seokmin thinks it will. Maybe they’d yelled at each other a little too long, a little too loud, and all the hurt they’d been keeping in spilled out again, hot and messy. But it’s not unfixable.
Both of them are stubborn creatures, unwilling to budge but also too soft in heart to truly hold a grudge. It’s a lot of missed chances and forlorn glances, pride too sharp to be the first to wave a white flag. By the third day, when Mingyu’s side of the bed remains cold and unforgiving as it did the first night they’d had the argument, Seokmin gets antsy. He misses Mingyu. He just doesn’t want to admit it.
“Well,” Minghao says drily when Seokmin calls him over the phone, frantic for advice. “Have you tried saying sorry?”
Here’s the thing about Mingyu and Seokmin: never once have they said sorry to each other.
Not outright, anyways.
Mingyu will jostle Seokmin’s shoulder and then pull him closer, tight, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of being apart any longer, clinging onto him for the rest of the night. And Seokmin will complain, loudly at first, and struggle to no avail against Mingyu’s freakishly large biceps, but eventually he’ll sink into it because the feeling of being hugged so fiercely is quite nice, and honestly, who doesn’t love being loved like that? Mingyu laughs every time it happens.
Seokmin will shuffle into the room, eyes downcast, hands working at the hem of his overly large t-shirt, mumbling some excuse about needing help with some random task he’d made up for the sole purpose of getting Mingyu to talk to him again. Mingyu will huff but he will also roll out of bed and follow Seokmin to where he needs him.
These, too, are acts of kindness, done out of love. A sorry without having to fully outright say it. If not to spare the other person’s pride then to save them from hurting even more.
In the end, the meaning gets across. It doesn’t matter how. Sometimes, the words get too hard to say. They both understand that.
Seokmin knows what he has to do.
He makes another grocery trip.
(A memory, from a long time ago —
“Here we are, Seokmin-ah,” Seokmin’s halmeoni grins as she proudly unveils what’s cooking on the stove. Under the kitchen lights, she looks like an angel, shining and ever so lovely. “Are you hungry?”
Seokmin’s stomach growls in response, and they both laugh.
“Food won’t fix everything,” his halmeoni says softly, spooning a steaming portion into Seokmin’s mouth. “But it helps. Don’t you think?”)
Seokmin does a balancing act worthy of a circus performance, juggling the groceries in his arms before he opens the door to a sheepish Mingyu standing over the stove, armed with a frilly pink apron and a spatula. By the smell of it, it’s Seokmin’s favorite dish. Some part of his heart squeezes, as if to remind him who it beats for.
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says softly, a toothy smile peeking out. “I don’t think I say it enough, but I hope you know that. I’m sorry, Seokmin-ah.”
Seokmin smiles, though it feels a little wobbly. There is a beautiful boy in his kitchen, one that loves him even in spite of all the silly little fights they have. They are not perfect, but love never truly is. They’re starting to learn that, he thinks. Together. Which is the most important part.
A tear falls out before Seokmin can catch it. “Me too. I’m sorry Mingyu-yah, I—“
“We’ll talk about it later,” Mingyu shakes his head softly, gesturing to the pan on the stove. “Come eat while it’s still hot. I made it for you, you know.”
Seokmin beams back. “I know.”
Re: [FILL] i want us to eat well
your seokgyu always gets me right in the gut. this is so THEM, the mindless petty little fights, their like-mindedness in how stubborn AND soft they can be. FOOD AS A LOVE LANGUAGE, wah this was so sweet and tender. it was also forgiving which is just soooooo important to :( love this really!!
Re: [FILL] i want us to eat well
Re: [FILL] i want us to eat well
They sit in begrudging silence for the rest of dinner. Shoulder to shoulder. Close enough that their thighs touch, elbows jostling into each other every time Seokmin or Mingyu take a sip of their soup. Even if it is by accident — or more likely, on purpose — they let the warmth of their bodies bleed into one another. To reassure the other person that they’re still there. That they’re not going anywhere. TWO DOGS IN TIME OUT... they're still mad at each other but if they can't feel the other person next to them they'll get upset >:(
He wordlessly presents them to Mingyu when he’s done, who takes them with soapy hands and a quiet mouth. mingyu's quiet mouth ;;;;;;;;;; mouse face.... ;;;;
Mingyu will jostle Seokmin’s shoulder and then pull him closer, tight, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of being apart any longer, clinging onto him for the rest of the night. EXTREMELY mingyu. big ol arms pulling seokmin tight! that's what mingyus do best!!
also the details about mingyu getting picky about the broth, seokmin asking mingyu for help and mingyu sighing but always helping him, the way they're both doing it to spare the other's (or their own) pride... everything was so perfect :( and of course the ending!!!! he made it for him :( he loves him :((( they're the same :((((
thank you so much for filling this prompt so wonderfully, i'm gonna reread it so many times!!! love you ♡♡♡
Re: [FILL] i want us to eat well
Re: [FILL] i want us to eat well
“I don’t know about this one,” Seokmin says mournfully, absentmindedly scanning the aisles and picking off stuff from the shelves to place in his basket. “Mingyu said he was, and I quote, ‘Getting a little tired of pizza’. Can you believe that? And I was like, well, if you’re getting so tired of pizza then maybe you can be in charge of making dinner for once — which, I know, is hard, since he just got the new promotion and his boss is making him work overtime like crazy. And I know, I know, I should be more supportive of him but did he really have to go at my pizza? I love making pizza, and Mingyu loves my pizza, Minghao, you know that, so for him to say that, it really hurt my feelings—“ oh seokmin you anxious rambler!! also i love your resigned relationship counselor friend minghao to dumb pups seokgyu so much.
[FILL] we'll try again
Major Tags: mentions of death and war
Additional Tags: this is about God and seokmin and oranges
Permission to remix: Please ask
Word count: 1342
dear cat, i have no idea what this is anymore. enjoy
***
Mingyu doesn’t believe in God. It’s hard to believe in anything when all he does is go to war. For weeks at a time, he goes to hold off the monsters that have escaped from labs around the world to plague humanity. He pushes himself to breaking point so that people can have at least one more day. He fights until all he knows is the searing pain in his muscles, until his hands form a grip even when he lets go of his gun. He loses people almost every day - friends, family, colleagues. When he looks around, all he sees is the world he loves crumbling to nothing. What merciful, fatherly God would let his children live like this? What nurturing, all-forgiving God would punish the world like this?
So no, he doesn’t believe in God. He believes in what’s around him. He believes in the shadows of his fellow fighters that he can just about see in the dark, standing tall and proud near him until they are felled. He believes in Seokmin, who tends the wounded for a living and yet never quite loses his lustre by the time he gets home.
Seokmin is what he’s thinking about when he turns up at home on his leave. He’s exhausted, each muscle in his body screaming with pain, and he wants nothing more than to lie next to Seokmin and think of nothing at all until he’s called again. Seokmin will offer him water and food and the soft palms of his hands and Mingyu will take it all. Believing in this, Mingyu uses all of his remaining strength and opens the door.
“Seokmin-ah,” he calls, “I’m back.”
Seokmin is on the couch, reading a book. He stiffens when he hears Mingyu’s voice, taking a moment before looking up.
“Oh,” he says, and that’s not what Mingyu expected to hear. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Mingyu tries again, dumping his bag near the door.
Seokmin’s face doesn’t change. He puts his book down and shifts a little on the couch.
“Do you want something to eat?” Seokmin asks, but it feels more like a hoop he has to jump through.
Mingyu doesn’t know. He’s lost his appetite all of a sudden. “I think I’ll just head in the shower,” he replies, trying not to show how despondent he feels.
Seokmin just nods, pursing his lips a little, before picking up his book again. Mingyu heads to their bedroom to reach the small en-suite and bang his head against the door, before actually taking a shower.
It’s not like he’s forgotten about their argument right before Mingyu went to fight again. It was about Mingyu fighting, actually - Seokmin wanted to know why Mingyu didn’t just retire, and Mingyu was adamant that he had to keep helping. It was a horrible note to leave on, really. Neither of them spoke as Mingyu went out of the door, his bag heavy but his heart heavier. It wasn’t until Mingyu was in the thick of it, deep in the muck and death of war, that he realised that if he never came home, his and Seokmin’s last words to each other would have been rancorous. Neither of them deserved that. But that was what they did to each other - they tore each other apart until their bed felt ice-cold, and Mingyu walked out of the door anyway.
He only hopes that Seokmin will let him back in now.
The shower refreshes him as much as a corpse can be rejuvenated, and he steps out, wearing his own jogging bottoms and Seokmin’s T-shirt (large for Seokmin, perfect for Mingyu). Seokmin isn’t in the living room and so, only mildly panicking, Mingyu makes his way over to the kitchen. Thankfully, Seokmin’s there, back to the door, peeling an orange over a plate on the counter.
Seokmin is so good at peeling oranges. It’s an odd talent to have, but it’s a marvel to watch. He digs his nails in, incisive, stripping it of its peel with his long fingers in one fluid motion, and it comes off whole. But the thing with Seokmin is that he is never usually as incisive and confident as this. Whenever something upsets him, he retreats and gets shy and doesn’t like talking about it, especially if it’s Mingyu that’s upset him. If he does choose to talk about it, it’s awkward and jagged, each word hesitant. He’s always so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing - it’s taken Mingyu years to figure that out.
Sometimes it feels like Seokmin is only ever sure of himself when he peels oranges.
“Mingyu-yah,” Seokmin calls out suddenly, like he’s sensed Mingyu darkening the doorway, “just head to the living room, please. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Mingyu nods, even though he knows Seokmin can’t see him, and moves to sit on the couch. The air still feels heavy and bitter on his tongue, and he doesn’t really know what to do from here. Will Seokmin keep pretending that their argument never happened? Will Mingyu? Which of them will break first? Which of them will cry?
It doesn’t take too long for Seokmin to appear, clear in his line of vision. He’s holding a plate laden with orange pieces, ripe and inviting and smelling sickly-sweet. He sits down on the couch next to Mingyu, and only now does Mingyu notice the tightness of his jaw, the gentle pain in his eyes. Mingyu wants to hold Seokmin’s shoulder, or his hands, or his face, but something tells him now isn’t the moment. He just looks Seokmin in the eye, waiting for him to speak.
“Mingyu-yah,” Seokmin says, voice straining, “you made me cry.”
Seokmin could be talking about anything. He could be talking about their fight - he did cry then. He could be talking about when Mingyu decided to go to battle anyway - he did cry then. He could be talking about the days when Mingyu was away - Mingyu didn’t know for sure, but he could have cried then.
“Yeah. I know,” Mingyu replies. Then he says, “You weren’t kind to me either, though.”
“Yeah. I know.”
There’s a beat of silence. All the words that Mingyu hasn't said swirl around his throat and bash at his skull.
He tries to let some of the words out. “I think we should talk ab-”
“Now?” Seokmin interrupts, imploring. “Can’t we do that later? Can’t I just have you back for a while? Can’t I have you for myself, please?”
And Mingyu always knew that Seokmin missed him just as much as he missed Seokmin, but this is the closest he’ll get to hearing it said loud and clear, and something twists deep in his gut.
“Yeah," he replies. “Yeah. I want you with me too.”
He doesn’t say I missed you. He hopes Seokmin hears it.
Seokmin’s lips move in a vague imitation of a smile, and he holds the plate of oranges out towards Mingyu. “If you’re going to go around fighting battles, you need some Vitamin C.”
Mingyu smiles, and tries not to cry too. The movement makes his brain and lips hurt. He takes a piece of orange from the plate. It’s ripe and ready to burst with its own juice, and it’s the brightest thing Mingyu has seen in weeks that isn’t Seokmin. He bites it - there’s an explosion of sharpness in his mouth that almost stings, and then the sweetness rushes through. It’s been a while since Mingyu has had something sweet. It’s been a while since he’s let himself.
Seokmin gives him a weak half-smile as he eats, and eventually he picks up a piece of orange and eats it too. And Mingyu doesn’t believe in God, but for a ridiculous moment he thinks that he’s found God here; here, in his lover’s orange-scented hands, the hands that hold him and caress him and forgive him again and again. Not the immediate, all-encompassing forgiveness of a deity, but the kind of forgiveness that takes work, the kind that says we’ll try again, we’ll try again, I’m still with you, don’t worry. The kind that Mingyu could believe in.
Re: [FILL] we'll try again
my most favorite exchange
“Now?” Seokmin interrupts, imploring. “Can’t we do that later? Can’t I just have you back for a while? Can’t I have you for myself, please?”
And Mingyu always knew that Seokmin missed him just as much as he missed Seokmin, but this is the closest he’ll get to hearing it said loud and clear, and something twists deep in his gut.
“Yeah," he replies. “Yeah. I want you with me too.” U DUMB PUPPIES!! HUG IT OUT! USE UR WORDS!
Re: [FILL] we'll try again