Ship/Member: seokmin/soonyoung, soonyoung/mingyu Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: idol/non idol relationship, soulmates - i can hear the music you listen to in my head, alternate universe - canon divergent (aka svt is 12 and without a hoshi :< but for the plot i swear), seokgyu bickering as always, soonyoung has a type and its handsome men <3 Permission to remix: please ask! wc: 1195
i really loved this idea and tbh this deserves a lot more written for it but this is all i have at the moment.. but in this universe ksy still doesn't change his bias ("if it makes you feel any better, you were always in my top 3. its hard with twelve of you. how am i supposed to choose") and uses seokmin for his backstage passes to ogle over joshua hong muscle mass . seokmin uses soonyoung to keep tabs on the photocard market and he'll bring albums home before they're released so soonyoung gets to hear them first
***
Seokmin wakes up to their latest single blaring so loudly he can feel the vibrations jerking his teeth around.
It is five in the goddamn morning. Seokmin decidedly does not want to Rock with You.
“Shut it off,” he grumbles, then repeats it again, louder, in the hopes that someone will hear his plight. The guitar riffs, awesome when he’d first heard it in Jihoon’s Universe Factory, sound absolutely awful.
“Shut it off,” he whines again when it gets unbearable, throwing a pillow in Mingyu’s general direction. It lands nowhere near where Seokmin intended and ends up slumping in a sad heap on the floor.
“How can I turn it off,” Mingyu throws another pillow back, his aim perfect and true. Stupid jocks and their stupid athleticism. “It’s in your head.”
“Ow,” Seokmin complains, then wincing as an afterthought when he realizes what Mingyu’s said. “Again?” He frowns, rubbing his eyes blearily. Mingyu snorts and rolls back over to sleep, comforter pulled over his head. They’re not slotted to leave the dorms until three hours later for a fansign, and Mingyu is the type that rolls out of bed looking perfect, so he always tries to squeeze every ounce of rest that he can get. Seokmin hates him sometimes. God has his favorites.
Seokmin tries his best to modulate the sound, sending a tiny plea out into his soulmate, wherever they are in the universe, to take it down a level. Or two. Please.
Because the universe isn’t that kind, Mingyu begins snoring, and the music remains.
Seokmin sighs and settles in for a long day.
🎵🎵🎵
When Seokmin first started hearing his songs in his own head, he had thought it was just part of the background noise — when you’re in a room full of eleven other boys, you forget what silence sounds like. Someone was always playing something, somewhere. Noise just became something that he got used to.
It wasn’t until Seokmin had snapped at someone to stop playing Bring It, that he was tired of hearing it all the time, and could they please, please choose something else before he officially lost it. The music didn’t change, because no one else could hear it.
All the members blinked at him first, slowly, then as the realization began to sink in, they all crowded him, letting out whoops and hollers and tumbling over one another to give Seokmin rough pats on the back. He was the first of them to hear his soulmate on the other line.
“They must be a fan,” Jeonghan teases, amidst all the cheers. “If they’re listening to us that much. Tell them thank you for supporting us so well, all these years.”
🎵🎵🎵
As they bundle up into the van to go to makeup, his soulmate has switched from streaming Attacca to putting Gam3 Bo1 on repeat, indefinitely.
Whoever his soulmate is, Seokmin is going to ask them to stop listening to Seventeen.
For their sake, Seokmin resolutes, wincing as Vernon’s verse starts up again, autotune running rampant, this time at a notch louder than before.
And possibly his, too.
🎵🎵🎵
When they get to the entrance hall, Mingyu bumps shoulders with Seokmin as he stretches (a completely unnecessary move on his part) and leans down to whisper (also unnecessary, the stylist-noonas gave Seokmin combat boots with the platforms, and their height difference isn’t that stark).
“Do you think that they’re here?” Mingyu asks, eyes gazing out over the crowd. Seokmin is too busy plotting the best way to cause Mingyu bodily harm without any of the fansite’s lens catching him to hear.
“Hm?” He murmurs, walking up onto stage and pasting on his smile. He and Mingyu dutifully make a heart when someone asks, then just as quickly break the heart.
“Your soulmate,” Mingyu prods insistently. “Do you think they’re here?”
Seokmin is stunned into silence. He only just barely manages to oblige someone’s request for aegyo, the bright flashes of the camera jerking him back to reality. His heart starts to pound in his chest.
“What,” Mingyu asks flatly, like he’s not surprised that Seokmin hadn’t thought of it himself. “You think they’re not going to look for you?”
🎵🎵🎵
As an idol, you get used to suppressing voices inside your head. Usually, they’ll belong to netizens who have all the time in the world to sit down and insult you from the safety of their computer screens, but sometimes, and in Seokmin’s case, it’s the sound of your soulmates.
Fansigns are loud as it is, with fans shouting over one another and the general exciting atmosphere of meeting between fans and artists. Seokmin dutifully pushes the sound in the back of his brain, smiling when he’s asked and carrying over conversations when he can, without letting the noise in his head overwhelm him too much.
Though, in the moments in between, he starts to realize that the sound inside his head is syncing up with the music outside it —
A boy slides his album over into Seokmin’s space, and Seokmin gets a nudge from Minghao, whose eyes are glittering. They all have developed their telltale signals: whether or not the fan will be kind, rude, if the encounter will be memorable or if they’re expected to follow some sort of script. Throughout it all, they’re expected to smile.
He’s funny, Minghao mouths, an echo of a smile still on his face.
Seokmin glances down at the post-it, eyes straining to read it. The penmanship is awful.
“Ah, that,” the boy in front of him grins sheepishly, eyes curving into little moons. “It says Kwon Soonyoung.”
“Ah, Soonyoung-ssi,” Seokmin gives a tentative grin back, body relaxing as he flips to the page Soonyoung had carefully tabbed for his signature. “Nice eyebrow slit,” he says, pointing to his own eyebrow with a pen.
Soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh at that. “Hah, yeah, Joshua-ssi’s was so cool, I just had to try it too.”
“Oh?” Seokmin is intrigued. “It suits you.”
Soonyoung blushes at that, one hand coming up to fan his cheeks.
Seokmin smiles, for real this time, genuinely endeared. He missed seeing fans in person, missed interacting with them like this. They talk a little bit more here and there, and Soonyoung’s ears get progressively redder and redder. He mumbles something about “ridiculously handsome men” and “broad shoulders” that Seokmin mostly catches, but asks him to repeat it again, teasingly, just to see the reaction.
Just as the song changes, and just before the staff are ushering Soonyoung to move on, Seokmin hears the same thing in his head as he does out of it. He looks at Soonyoung with a stricken face, and Soonyoung stares back at him, the same caught expression and all.
Soulmate, Seokmin thinks dazedly. You’re my soulmate, Kwon Soonyoung.
“Well,” Soonyoung blinks out of it first. “This is awkward.” He flips to the next page, where Mingyu is photographed. “He’s my favorite.”
Mingyu, who’s already finished his time with the noona in front of him, curiously leaning over into Seokmin’s space — where he does not belong — hears everything. He cackles with delight.
Oh, Seokmin is never going to hear the end of this one.
this song sounds oddly familiar
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idol/non idol relationship, soulmates - i can hear the music you listen to in my head, alternate universe - canon divergent (aka svt is 12 and without a hoshi :< but for the plot i swear), seokgyu bickering as always, soonyoung has a type and its handsome men <3
Permission to remix: please ask!
wc: 1195
i really loved this idea and tbh this deserves a lot more written for it but this is all i have at the moment.. but in this universe ksy still doesn't change his bias ("if it makes you feel any better, you were always in my top 3. its hard with twelve of you. how am i supposed to choose") and uses seokmin for his backstage passes to ogle over joshua hong muscle mass . seokmin uses soonyoung to keep tabs on the photocard market and he'll bring albums home before they're released so soonyoung gets to hear them first
***
Seokmin wakes up to their latest single blaring so loudly he can feel the vibrations jerking his teeth around.
It is five in the goddamn morning. Seokmin decidedly does not want to Rock with You.
“Shut it off,” he grumbles, then repeats it again, louder, in the hopes that someone will hear his plight. The guitar riffs, awesome when he’d first heard it in Jihoon’s Universe Factory, sound absolutely awful.
“Shut it off,” he whines again when it gets unbearable, throwing a pillow in Mingyu’s general direction. It lands nowhere near where Seokmin intended and ends up slumping in a sad heap on the floor.
“How can I turn it off,” Mingyu throws another pillow back, his aim perfect and true. Stupid jocks and their stupid athleticism. “It’s in your head.”
“Ow,” Seokmin complains, then wincing as an afterthought when he realizes what Mingyu’s said. “Again?” He frowns, rubbing his eyes blearily. Mingyu snorts and rolls back over to sleep, comforter pulled over his head. They’re not slotted to leave the dorms until three hours later for a fansign, and Mingyu is the type that rolls out of bed looking perfect, so he always tries to squeeze every ounce of rest that he can get. Seokmin hates him sometimes. God has his favorites.
Seokmin tries his best to modulate the sound, sending a tiny plea out into his soulmate, wherever they are in the universe, to take it down a level. Or two. Please.
Because the universe isn’t that kind, Mingyu begins snoring, and the music remains.
Seokmin sighs and settles in for a long day.
🎵🎵🎵
When Seokmin first started hearing his songs in his own head, he had thought it was just part of the background noise — when you’re in a room full of eleven other boys, you forget what silence sounds like. Someone was always playing something, somewhere. Noise just became something that he got used to.
It wasn’t until Seokmin had snapped at someone to stop playing Bring It, that he was tired of hearing it all the time, and could they please, please choose something else before he officially lost it. The music didn’t change, because no one else could hear it.
All the members blinked at him first, slowly, then as the realization began to sink in, they all crowded him, letting out whoops and hollers and tumbling over one another to give Seokmin rough pats on the back. He was the first of them to hear his soulmate on the other line.
“They must be a fan,” Jeonghan teases, amidst all the cheers. “If they’re listening to us that much. Tell them thank you for supporting us so well, all these years.”
🎵🎵🎵
As they bundle up into the van to go to makeup, his soulmate has switched from streaming Attacca to putting Gam3 Bo1 on repeat, indefinitely.
Whoever his soulmate is, Seokmin is going to ask them to stop listening to Seventeen.
For their sake, Seokmin resolutes, wincing as Vernon’s verse starts up again, autotune running rampant, this time at a notch louder than before.
And possibly his, too.
🎵🎵🎵
When they get to the entrance hall, Mingyu bumps shoulders with Seokmin as he stretches (a completely unnecessary move on his part) and leans down to whisper (also unnecessary, the stylist-noonas gave Seokmin combat boots with the platforms, and their height difference isn’t that stark).
“Do you think that they’re here?” Mingyu asks, eyes gazing out over the crowd. Seokmin is too busy plotting the best way to cause Mingyu bodily harm without any of the fansite’s lens catching him to hear.
“Hm?” He murmurs, walking up onto stage and pasting on his smile. He and Mingyu dutifully make a heart when someone asks, then just as quickly break the heart.
“Your soulmate,” Mingyu prods insistently. “Do you think they’re here?”
Seokmin is stunned into silence. He only just barely manages to oblige someone’s request for aegyo, the bright flashes of the camera jerking him back to reality. His heart starts to pound in his chest.
“What,” Mingyu asks flatly, like he’s not surprised that Seokmin hadn’t thought of it himself. “You think they’re not going to look for you?”
🎵🎵🎵
As an idol, you get used to suppressing voices inside your head. Usually, they’ll belong to netizens who have all the time in the world to sit down and insult you from the safety of their computer screens, but sometimes, and in Seokmin’s case, it’s the sound of your soulmates.
Fansigns are loud as it is, with fans shouting over one another and the general exciting atmosphere of meeting between fans and artists. Seokmin dutifully pushes the sound in the back of his brain, smiling when he’s asked and carrying over conversations when he can, without letting the noise in his head overwhelm him too much.
Though, in the moments in between, he starts to realize that the sound inside his head is syncing up with the music outside it —
A boy slides his album over into Seokmin’s space, and Seokmin gets a nudge from Minghao, whose eyes are glittering. They all have developed their telltale signals: whether or not the fan will be kind, rude, if the encounter will be memorable or if they’re expected to follow some sort of script. Throughout it all, they’re expected to smile.
He’s funny, Minghao mouths, an echo of a smile still on his face.
Seokmin glances down at the post-it, eyes straining to read it. The penmanship is awful.
“Ah, that,” the boy in front of him grins sheepishly, eyes curving into little moons. “It says Kwon Soonyoung.”
“Ah, Soonyoung-ssi,” Seokmin gives a tentative grin back, body relaxing as he flips to the page Soonyoung had carefully tabbed for his signature. “Nice eyebrow slit,” he says, pointing to his own eyebrow with a pen.
Soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh at that. “Hah, yeah, Joshua-ssi’s was so cool, I just had to try it too.”
“Oh?” Seokmin is intrigued. “It suits you.”
Soonyoung blushes at that, one hand coming up to fan his cheeks.
Seokmin smiles, for real this time, genuinely endeared. He missed seeing fans in person, missed interacting with them like this. They talk a little bit more here and there, and Soonyoung’s ears get progressively redder and redder. He mumbles something about “ridiculously handsome men” and “broad shoulders” that Seokmin mostly catches, but asks him to repeat it again, teasingly, just to see the reaction.
Just as the song changes, and just before the staff are ushering Soonyoung to move on, Seokmin hears the same thing in his head as he does out of it. He looks at Soonyoung with a stricken face, and Soonyoung stares back at him, the same caught expression and all.
Soulmate, Seokmin thinks dazedly. You’re my soulmate, Kwon Soonyoung.
“Well,” Soonyoung blinks out of it first. “This is awkward.” He flips to the next page, where Mingyu is photographed. “He’s my favorite.”
Mingyu, who’s already finished his time with the noona in front of him, curiously leaning over into Seokmin’s space — where he does not belong — hears everything. He cackles with delight.
Oh, Seokmin is never going to hear the end of this one.