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girlsfest2025-02-17 06:00 pm
Round 3: Free-for-all
Use this round for anything that doesn't match the other categories. Round 1 & 2 prompts can still contain these elements, but this is where you can request them without any other strings attached!
- Alternate universes/tropes
- First/last sentences
- Intergroup/crossover pairings
- Group lore
Click here to view the fest rules.
RULES
- You are not required to have a Dreamwidth account to participate. There are no signups necessary. You may post anonymously if you want.
- There will be 3 rounds of this fest, and 1 round will be opened each week of the fest. Rounds will be left open for fills and comments, so there is no deadline for participating.
- Prompts do not have to be claimed before you write them, and they can be filled by more than one person.
- Once a round is open, you can continue submitting prompts for it until the end of the fest moderation period. (Ex: On February 17 after Round 3 opens, you’re still allowed to submit prompts to Round 1 and 2.)
- There is no minimum or maximum word count for fills. In the spirit of the fest, we encourage you to write shorter works, but any length is welcome and appreciated!
- Users are allowed to crosspost their fic on any other site, such as AO3. However, we ask that when possible, writers post the text of their fills as a reply to the prompt and include a link to an AO3 post if they choose to do so, instead of just linking to an AO3 post in their comment. This helps keep discussion in our community!
- Feel free to subscribe and join the comm to keep track of updates and view them on your reading page.
CONTENT
Prompts and fills have to center around K-pop girl group member(s). This includes:
- All active and former girl group members
- Female soloists
- Female members in co-ed groups
- Any female idol or trainee affiliated with K-pop (e.g., GP999 contestants, AKB48 members who featured in Produce48)
- Slash, gen, het, and trans works are all accepted as long as they involve at least one girl group member
PROMPTING
To prompt, reply to a round post and copy the following template in.
It will look like this when empty:
Tags:
Prompt:
Fill out the form with your prompt. You can also write in "Any" to give the writer freedom to choose their own. For example:
Tags: You’ve Got Mail (1998) AU; or alternatively, Twenty-Five Twenty-One (2022) AU
Prompt: A & B are rivals in their real life careers, but meet and fall in love anonymously online.
FILLING
To post a fill, post a comment reply to the prompt you wrote for and copy the following template in. Title your comment with [FILL] followed by the title of your ficlet.
It will look like this once filled out:
Characters/Ship: STAYC Sieun/Sumin
Tags: rival bakery owners on the same street vs getting baking advice from each other on reddit LOL
Permission to Remix: Yes
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Content of fill here...
Please provide content warnings for Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage as well as NSFW/explicit content.
Fills with NSFW/explicit content should have (NSFW) at the end of the comment title.
Example: [FILL] love hangover (NSFW)
REMIXES
You are welcome to remix fics that the original author has approved for remixing. A remix is a work directly or indirectly inspired by another work.
To post a remix, post a comment reply to the comment you remixed and copy the following template in with your info. Title your comment with [REMIX] followed by the title of your remix.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-17 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: 80s slasher AU, blood/gore warning maybe?, slasher/horror movie metahumor
Prompt:
A & B are slashers located in the same area and A always beats B to the kills. One night, A & B decide to work together.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 12:13 am (UTC)(link)Tags: smut if possible~
Prompt: Gyuri spoils Seulgi for her birthday
no subject
Tags: situationship or whatever...
Prompt: pls explain what happened between them i want to know
death on the nile
Tags: jealousy, friends to enemies, triangulation (?), murder (?), comphet (?), open to interpretation
Prompt: Death on the Nile toxic yuri premise... when you introduce your best friend to your beloved fiance and she schemes to make him fall in love with her using her money, and then after she steals him and marries him you stalk them both and intimidate them and make them afraid you are going to kill them. <3
"Successful socialite Linnet Doyle née Ridgeway approaches Hercule Poirot [...] to commission him to deter her former friend Jacqueline de Bellefort from hounding and stalking her. Linnet had recently married Jacqueline's ex-fiancé, Simon Doyle, which has made Jacqueline bitterly resentful." - Wikipedia summary
no subject
Tags: toxic yuri, daily lives of villains
Prompt: giselle and julie are two girls who kill men for money and fun and occasionally hook up. day in the life of toxic murder lesbians
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-03-22 08:36 am (UTC)(link)Aeri eyes the wad of bills with disdain. Cash, in this day and age? A good thing she'd passed this one over to Julie. She doesn't care to ask for details about Julie's interaction with the client, but those who eschew virtual currency tend to be a of certain type: desperate.
"Thanks." No need to share her opinions on the clients who hire them. She gets paid and that's what matters. "You could have just sent it to my bank account."
"But then we wouldn't get to meet," Julie says, her smile sweet and her eyes cold. She takes half a step forward, closer to the hotel bed where Aeri sits at the edge, now close enough to wrap her small hands around Aeri's neck and choke her if she wished. Perhaps she will, later, if Aeri asks nicely enough. "You take forever to reply when I text and I miss you."
Typical Julie. All talk but never making the first move. Aeri can't even be bothered to roll her eyes before pulling Julie in by her hips, and now she has the girl in her lap. It's the perfect position to bring Julie's cute little breasts to Aeri's eye level, where Aeri can leave her mark over them once the clothes are off.
"Last time we met, you promised to wear something pretty for me." The cut and fabric of Julie's blouse makes it hard to tell just by looking, but now that Aeri has her hands on her—running down Julie's back and groping her thighs—she's fairly certain that she won't be disappointed. "Did you keep your word?"
Julie's reply is a smirk, one that promises pain in Aeri's near future. It makes Aeri swallow, hard, as Julie's fingers thread through her hair and tighten. "Why don't you be a good girl for me and find out?"
no subject
no subject
Tags: age gap, toxic yuri, power dynamics, mess
Prompt: karina is drawn in by taeyeon's charms and maturity. taeyeon, against her better judgement, capitulates to karina and her bright-eyed optimism. neither of them know what they're doing but think they do so it gets twisted real fast. also if you want throw in some side ships like taesica and jiminjeong that could make it so much messier
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 05:33 am (UTC)(link)Tags: blind date, members meddling hehe
Prompt:
A and B are set up on a blind date by their members
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 07:20 am (UTC)(link)Tags: homesickness, comforting
Prompt:
Foreign member gets homesick and a Korean member helps her through it
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 07:32 am (UTC)(link)Tags: age gap, crush and/or hookup
Prompt:
Having a crush on your big sister's best friend, or hooking up with your big sister's best friend if you're so inclined
[FILL] trickle down my spine (NSFW)
Tags: ningning and yuqi are sisters, age difference (8 yrs), meeting your ex babysitter at the gay club, explicit sex, public sex
Permission to Remix: Yes
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so i might have been a little liberal with the sister's best friend part... this got away from me, but i hope you still enjoy it!
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Yuqi and Seulgi's friendship never made much sense.
Most of all because Seulgi started as their babysitter, of all things—the nice kid from next door tasked to take care of the Ning children.
Seulgi's always had her own friends, too—all girls, all pretty, and more importantly, all her age—so there was no reason, really, for her to continue to hang out at the Ning household once Yuqi got old enough to be trusted to look after herself and her younger sister.
And yet, day after day she would come over to watch TV and play games with the Chinese immigrant kid who was a whole five years younger than her. Yizhuo once heard her mother theorize that Yuqi probably allowed Seulgi to keep living her childhood at an age where all her peers cared about was studying, boys, and having a good reputation.
What her father said, and her mother couldn't help but agree, was that Seulgi was just nice. To Yizhuo, that didn't take away from the truth of that strange friendship—nice teenager or not, Seulgi always seemed to genuinely enjoy Yuqi's company.
Seulgi became a staple of Yizhuo’s childhood in South Korea. She cried when they left, back when Yizhuo was newly fifteen with braces and pimples and strange feelings that prevented her from looking Seulgi in the eye. Her mother still smiles fondly from time to time—remember Yuqi's older friend from next door? Kang Seulgi. I wonder what she's doing now.
At twenty-three, Yizhuo can tell her mother exactly what Seulgi is doing: staring at her wide-eyed under the strobing lights of the club, mouth hanging open as if she can't quite believe what she's seeing. Yizhuo squeezes Aeri's hand where it's still holding hers, so she knows to stop pulling.
“Ning Yizhuo?” Seulgi asks, as if she needs to be sure. Yizhuo doesn't blame her too much for that—she likes to think she's grown up well from that awkward teenager Seulgi had seen last. Still, the way Seulgi looks around wildly stings. Yizhuo knows she's looking for Yuqi, as if Yizhuo is a lost child her older sister failed to chaperone.
“Unnie,” Yizhuo says, ignoring the way Aeri is looking at her. She rounds her syllables well so Seulgi can read her lips, knowing she can't be heard over the pounding bass. “It's been a while.”
Seulgi's expression tells her what an understatement that is. Her eyes sweep Yizhuo's figure, and Yizhuo feels a familiar warmth ignite that can't be explained by the shots she's had. Aeri gets closer, then, her mouth close to Yizhuo's ear. “I don't know what’s going on,” she shouts, and Yizhuo winces at the noise, “but I'm going back to the table.”
Yizhuo can't bring herself to tear her eyes off of Seulgi to watch her go. They must look comical from the outside, two women standing stock-still in the middle of the dancefloor. Yizhuo can barely feel the brush of sweaty bodies against her skin.
Seulgi must think the same, because she shakes herself off from whatever haze she was in, walking closer until they're face to face. Yizhuo shivers in anticipation, her skin erupting in goosebumps where Seulgi's palm meets her arm. “Let's talk,” she mouths, and Yizhuo can only follow, eager like a stray puppy, as Seulgi winds them through the crowd and up a set of stairs until they reach a place that's quieter, and darker, then the main floor.
Yizhuo can immediately see what, exactly, this place is used for, but Seulgi cutely averts her eyes from all the couples. Yizhuo wonders if she's normally this shy around public displays, or if she only feels embarrassed given the present company. There are many things Yizhuo has always wondered about Seulgi, and tonight might finally shed some light on them.
“So,” Seulgi starts, when they find an unoccupied corner to call their own, “I didn’t know you were back in Korea.”
That, too, stings a little bit. Seulgi follows her on social media, and although Yizhuo already knew it deep down, it still sucks to get confirmation that Seulgi’s just never cared enough to check.
“I got hired by the studio I interned at during college, when I spent a semester studying here.”
Seulgi raises her eyebrows at that. “You’ve graduated college? Time really does fly by.”
Yizhuo smiles. “Sure it does.” And it has only helped Seulgi. Not quite in the same way it did Yizhuo, because Seulgi has never had an awkward phase in her life, but she’s even more stunning now. Yizhuo doesn’t need to do the math to know how old she is: thirty-one. It’s always been second nature to know what the eight years between them amounted to.
“And Yuqi? Did she come with you?”
“Nah,” Yizhuo says, and hopes fruitlessly that it doesn’t disappoint Seulgi too much. “She’s got a good job back home. But she should come visit me soon.”
Predictably, Seulgi lights up at the news. Her cheeks still bunch up with the force of her smile, her eyes curving into crescents. “Oh, I miss her! We should get together, for old time’s sake.”
“Sure, unnie.” Yizhuo doesn’t dare ask what about the old times she misses. She much prefers the present day. Seulgi changes her stance, then, and the serious look on her face shouldn’t send a thrill up Yizhuo’s spine.
“Yizhuo-yah,” she begins, licking her lips. She’s uncomfortable, Yizhuo realizes suddenly. “Do you know what kind of club this is?”
Yizhuo’s saved from answering by a sudden shout behind them. “Seulgi-yah,” it says, “I thought you were getting us drinks!” It’s soon followed by the appearance of a lean woman of Yizhuo’s height, cropped shirt displaying the most impressive abs Yizhuo’s ever seen. As she walks closer, her look of surprise at seeing the both of them together morphs into a sly smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Seulgi is quick to correct her, and Yizhuo tries not to flinch at the urgency in her tone. “I used to babysit her.”
“Really?” The woman’s gaze is doubtful, then something else entirely as she takes Yizhuo in without an ounce of shame, lingering on her cleavage and where her dress stops at her upper thighs. “You’re getting old, Seulgi-yah. She looks all grown-up to me.”
“I’m Yizhuo,” she offers, and the hand she raises is pushed aside by Seulgi stepping in to stand between them, physically shielding Yizhuo from view.
“Seungwan-ah,” she practically growls, a sound Yizhuo’s never heard from her, and it shoots straight between her legs, “I’m sure Yerim and Sooyoung are waiting for you.”
“Wow,” Seungwan enunciates it slowly, exaggerated. “If you say so. I’ll be leaving now.” She peeks over Seulgi’s shoulder then, perhaps standing on her tiptoes to do so, and shoots her a winning smile. “Come find me if you get tired of hanging out with this one!”
“I will!” Yizhuo shouts, giggling when Seulgi turns around to stare in disbelief at her. She’s standing so close Yizhuo imagines she can feel the heat of her breath hit her skin, and count all her individual eyelashes in the dark.
“What are you doing? Seungwan is my age!”
“So?” Yizhuo isn’t ashamed of acting coy, tucking her chin to look up at Seulgi with wide eyes. It’s easy with their height difference, present even with her kitten heels. “Do you think she knows what kind of club this is?”
Seulgi looks much like she did ten minutes ago, at the dancefloor: like she’s seeing Yizhuo for the first time and can’t quite believe her eyes. Now, Yizhuo finds the courage to look back, admires the sweet curve of her chin and the fullness of her lips. Seulgi’s attire is definitely not club worthy, hiding any skin Yizhuo wants to find, but she looks anyway, imagines her waist and her tits and even the dip of her collarbones and makes it clear that she’s doing so.
“Yizhuo-yah,” Seulgi says, and pauses, like she doesn’t know where to go from there. Yizhuo sweeps a non-existent strand of hair over her shoulder and Seulgi’s eyes follow the motion, getting stuck for a moment on her low neckline. Yizhuo likes to imagine it takes strength for her to raise them again and look her in the eye. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what, unnie?” She tilts her head to the side, shifts her legs so the hem of her dress rises even more. “After all, didn’t you hear your friend? I’m all grown up now.”
She’s not sure what part of it breaks Seulgi, but Yizhuo will be forever grateful that it does. She moans as soon as their mouths meet, high-pitched like a bitch in heat and it’s only half for show because the feeling of Seulgi’s lips and the taste of Seulgi’s spit is already enough to have her clenching around nothing.
“Holy fuck, Yizhuo,” Seulgi breathes, her fingers finding the holes on the side of Yizhuo’s dress and digging in, short nails biting skin. She leans down to suck a bruise on her neck and Yizhuo whimpers, fists her hands at the base of Seulgi’s neck to pull her back to another kiss. The first swipe of her tongue makes Yizhuo see fucking stars.
“Please, unnie,” she says, barely a minute in and already desperate, but it only seems to spur Seulgi on, one of her hands leaving her waist to toy with the hem of her dress. She lifts it up soon enough to palm the curve of her ass, kneading the flesh and breaking their kiss so she can lick a stripe up Yizhuo’s chin.
“Such a pretty dress,” she says, one hand on her ass and the other now palming her tit, squeezing through the fabric until she pulls down the neckline just enough so she can swipe her nipple with a thumb. “When did you start wearing stuff like this?”
“It’s— ah, it’s borrowed,” Yizhuo gasps. “Aeri lent it to me.” She squeezes Seulgi’s bicep, feels it flex under her palm as she continues to grope Yizhuo, sneaking one leg between her thighs so Yizhuo can grind down and hump her like a horny teen.
“Aeri— your friend from downstairs?” Seulgi guesses, and Yizhuo nods in response. She’s starting to sound a little winded now, panting just a little in contrast to Yizhuo’s heavy breaths, each interrupted by an involuntary moan as the contact of her clothed clit with the hard muscles of Seulgi’s thigh teases a bigger pleasure. “She’s just a friend, right?” She asks, some of that earlier aggressiveness with Seungwan bleeding into her voice, and Yizhuo nearly gushes at the sound of it.
“I let her fuck me sometimes,” Yizhuo says, just to see her reaction, and the sudden pain of Seulgi’s hands clenching on her ass makes her whine high and pathetic. Yizhuo feels almost limp in her arms, boneless as Seulgi guides her and helps her rock on top of her, so wet she swears it’s leaking through her underwear.
“Were you going to let her fuck you here?” Seulgi asks, teasing the waistband of her underwear for a moment. She lets a finger dip in. “In front of all these people?”
“Maybe,” Yizhuo lies, crying out as that finger descends past her clit and sinks roughly into her. Seulgi takes her finger out quickly, though, rubbing hard circles on Yizhuo’s clit as she somehow comes even closer, until it feels like not a single part of their bodies isn’t touching. Her leg has dropped back into place, and Yizhuo can barely hold herself up as she gets closer and closer to the high she’s been chasing.
“You’re so wet, Yizhuo,” Seulgi says. “So tight for me, too. Are you going to let me fuck you here, where everyone can see?”
Yizhuo whines, helpless and shaking. She almost bursts into tears when Seulgi stops her motions, and almost cums on the spot when the other woman instead drops to her knees in front of her, taking Yizhuo’s underwear as she goes. Yizhuo trembles, vulnerable and on display and more turned on than she’s ever been in her life.
She tries to look around and see if she can spot the other couples she saw when they first arrived, but then Seulgi is leaning in and taking Yizhuo’s clit between her lips, and the prospect of being caught feels much less urgent than cumming on Seulgi’s mouth. Yizhuo moans, rocking her hips on Seulgi’s face, feeling the tight grip on her legs where she’s holding on. She hopes it bruises, hopes Seulgi’s fingers turn her skin purple and blue so she can look at it tomorrow and remember the way her tongue licked inside and tasted her slick.
Seulgi lowers her underwear more, until it reaches Yizhuo’s feet and she can get rid of it altogether; the moment she hooks her arm under Yizhuo’s leg and brings it up her shoulder is so filthy she fears she might go insane with it. Her cunt sits open and on display as Seulgi sucks and licks a stripe across her slit. Yizhuo feels Seulgi's lips and her tongue, the mess of spit and slick between her thighs as she imagines someone walking in—Seungwan, maybe, curious to see what’s taking Seulgi so long and stumbling upon Yizhuo, thoroughly debauched with her old babysitter between her legs.
She clenches at the thought. “Inside, unnie, please,” she begs, past the point of caring to lower her voice or having any sense of decency and when Seulgi sinks one finger inside her, then two, Yizhuo cries out and cums so hard her vision blacks out for a moment.
When she comes to, Seulgi is standing in front of her again, almost desperate as her eyes flit restlessly over Yizhuo’s face. “Fuck, Yizhuo, are you okay? I’m so sor—” Yizhuo licks her chin and Seulgi’s mouth snaps shut. She hums at the mix of her slick and Seulgi’s skin, so unique it has her immediately hungry for more.
“Unnie,” Yizhuo lays one hand on Seulgi’s arm to placate her. She looks almost like the teenager Yizhuo used to know, then, uncertain as she regards her with dark eyes. “Why don’t you give me my underwear back so I can get dressed, and take me back to yours?”
It’s almost funny how Seulgi manages to look shy with Yizhuo’s cum shining on her face. “I’m so sorry,” she says again, shoving the offending article in Yizhuo’s direction as she looks anywhere but her. Yizhuo considers making a joke about how she had no problem looking at other parts of her before, but worries it might be too soon for that.
“It’s okay, unnie,” she says instead, adding a wink for the full effect, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
Re: [FILL] trickle down my spine (NSFW)
(Anonymous) 2025-02-26 09:18 am (UTC)(link)I couldn't help but laugh at Wendy's cameo because I can totally picture it XD
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Re: [FILL] trickle down my spine (NSFW)
(also let's all go to hell together bc i loved writing this lol)
no subject
Tags: Sonny with a Chance (2009-11) AU; actors, famous/more famous, rivals (are they? are they really?)
Prompt: A is an up-and-coming actor, and B is a well-known actor. Their new projects are releasing simultaneously, which means A & B are constantly talked about in the same breath. A wants nothing to do with B, but when they meet for the first time, something changes.
[FILL] number one girl
Tags: loosely based on Sonny with a Chance (2009-11), actors, less famous/more famous, rivals (or, they think so), an attempt at tension, they are going to ruin a dressing room later
Permission to Remix: Yes
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If Jungeun hears Kim Yerim’s name in the same sentence as her own once more during this press tour, she is going to break a reporter’s microphone.
She envies Chan, who evidently listened while in media training, unlike Jungeun. He answers every question, professional or personal, with a brilliant smile stretched over his face. Jungeun, on the other hand, chews her lips to suppress her scowl when she is brought up. Surely, she is smearing lipstick over her teeth, and she won’t hear the end of it from her makeup artist when she sits down for a retouch, but that is the only way she maintains self-control.
Be as it may, and many around Jungeun look on it as childish petulance, she despises Kim Yerim. Yes, Jungeun knows the word is harsh. Especially, when it concerns a person she knows from hearsay, but it’s simple, really.
Jungeun wants nothing to do with Yerim.
All she has listened to, since the press tour for her drama with Chan started, are Yerim’s achievements, her next big project that, coincidentally, correlates with the release date of Jungeun’s own series, and intriguing quotes from tabloid articles, where her and Yerim are either compared or pit against one another.
Frankly, Jungeun has had enough.
Last stretches of promotions are after her. She is spiralling, her mind dizzy from unrest, anxiety, and stress. Anticipation is a heady drug she mixes into the concoction already swirling madly inside of her. Her tolerance for bullshit questions has run thin, and Jungeun hopes she doesn’t end up on front pages for all of the wrong reasons.
She is a picture of poise, the rising film star, graced with timeless beauty directors wish to immortalize on the silver screen, as she sits perfectly straight before rows of flashing cameras that record her every move, and eager interviewers that watch for a chip in her stoic, flawless façade. It’d be a shame to blunder now, but she can see the annoying, tacky, and boldly colored headline when she blinks.
Kim Jungeun Hates Kim Yerim. Up-and-coming actress lashes out at a reporter for asking her about the nation’s beloved all-rounder.
“Kim Jungeun-ssi, are you excited to watch Kim Yerim’s new blockbuster next week?”
Jungeun leans closely to the microphone. She grins when the only sound in the conference room comes from the paparazzi, their camera shutters ricocheting against the quiet. Before she opens her mouth, Jungeun clears her throat, and she supposes it can’t be helped when she answers, “I’m excited to see who they’re throwing me into the ring with. I hope Kim Yerim’s reputation precedes her. It’ll be a disappointment, otherwise.”
There is a complete pandemonium—journalists jump up from the stands to fire more questions at Jungeun, cameras temporarily blind the rest of the cast behind the panel, and Chan snorts into his water bottle. Surely, she will pay for what she said when she shows up at her company’s headquarters tomorrow the earliest. But, it is true. Jungeun never listened closely in media training.
⊹
Jungeun’s path to stardom is, admittedly, ridiculous.
A pleasant day in one of Hongdae’s coffee shops turned into a casting call, when a strange yet bright-eyed guy toppled over his chair to get to Jungeun, who had been in the middle of paying for her drink at the register, totally unprepared for the flurry of limbs running her way.
Convincing her to hear him out, instead of pouring her latte over his head, proved hard. Jungeun isn’t naïve. But, when she ultimately agreed to sit down with him, he’d only blabbed about his directorial debut, with the cadence of a kid on sugar rush.
Jungeun remembers the summer day vividly.
They stayed at the coffee shop longer than she’d planned. He explained to Jungeun the plot of his thriller, and how the film direly needed a face as angelic as hers. He’d even gone as far as to sketch Jungeun, covered in blood, on a napkin, to persuade her into consideration. And, she promised she’d call him when he jotted his phone number down on the back of the napkin.
Only, Jungeun didn’t think she’d do it so soon after.
She blames it on pity, mostly. Heejin blames it on stupidity. However, the truth is that hadn’t Jungeun made the call, she wouldn’t have starred in one of the most anticipated romantic dramas on television today.
And, she certainly wouldn’t have Kim Yerim knocking on the door of her dressing room the day of the premiere, demanding an explanation for Jungeun’s answer.
Who knew a good-looking bloodied face could get Jungeun so far?
Yerim stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, a fierce frown on her pretty face, as she glares at Jungeun, who sits in her makeup chair, impossibly amused.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jungeun-ssi.”
Jungeun spins around in her chair to face Yerim when she breaks the tense silence in the room. Luckily, they’re alone. Jungeun believes people would have suffocated from the arrogance Yerim exudes, otherwise.
She stands up, traipsing to Yerim. A sardonic grin spreads across her face, as she holds her hand out for a shake. “My pleasure.”
“Congratulations on your premiere,” Yerim sneers, shaking Jungeun’s hand. As if.
“Likewise.” Jungeun is a well-mannered girl, firstly. When she pulls her hand away, she disregards the small voice in her head that remarks on the softness of Yerim’s own hand. She must lather her palms with an expensive cream, that’s why. “What brings you here, Yerim-ssi?” Jungeun asks, to filter out the angel and the devil on her shoulders.
“Your interview the other day piqued my curiosity, I had to come and meet you.”
Jungeun knows Yerim didn’t show up at her dressing room to exchange pleasantries with her, but she didn’t expect for her to beat around the bush. Still, Jungeun holds her smile and bows her head. “Thank you. I know you are very busy yourself.”
Yerim clicks her tongue, waving her hand. “Nonsense. I’m never busy for my hoobae.”
Show-off. Jungeun giggles quietly. “We are lucky to have such a considerate sunbae.”
Yerim barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. Jungeun’s grin turns smug. “So, my reputation precedes me?” Yerim asks, smirking.
Jungeun scoffs under her breath, glancing away from Yerim’s haughty expression. She is infuriating, arrogant, and her shine is blinding. Jungeun wants to—. “What are you doing here, Yerim-ssi?”
“Why do you think my intentions are impure, Jungeun-ssi?” Yerim cocks her head to one side, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I only want to show my support, like you’ve shown yours.”
Jungeun is certain—she wants to punch Kim Yerim with her mouth. And, she doesn’t know what to do about it. “How did you say? I know the spotlight will be on me on the day of the premiere. Was it?”
Yerim smirks and takes a step closer to Jungeun. “You don’t find it odd how obsessed you seem to be with me? I mean, I’m used to it, but you’ll have to admit it’s unexpected from your sworn rival.”
“Me, obsessed?” Jungeun scoffs loudly this time, affronted by Yerim’s words. It’s like a whiplash, because Yerim irks her as much as she beguiles her, and Jungeun is on the verge of a nervous meltdown. “You wish. You can’t see anything past your arrogance, it’s beginning to mess with your head.”
“Aw,” Yerim cooes, pursing her pink lips into a pout. “You care about what messes with my head. Such a sweet hoobae, Jungeun-ssi.”
Jungeun almost lurches back from Yerim’s hand when she reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She flinches slightly, the touching startling yet Yerim’s fingers are gentle as they run through Jungeun’s curled hair, her knuckles brushing her face fleetingly. Jungeun hopes to heaven Yerim hasn’t heard her breath catch in her throat.
“Again,” she grits out, “you wish.”
Yerim snorts. “Is that all you know how to say, Jungeun-ssi?” she asks, flicking Jungeun’s chin with a slender, manicured finger, and she thinks she feels the graze of Yerim’s nail in her stirrup.
If it were anybody else, Jungeun believes she’d let her knees buckle from the tantalizing caress. Except it’s Kim Yerim, and she refuses to buckle in front of her.
“That’s all I have to say to you.”
Today was supposed to be Jungeun’s special day. Her first drama—her first big role—is premiering, and she allowed Kim Yerim to irk her until flames of frustration licked her insides, reaching the point of self-combustion.
Jungeun desperately needs fresh air, she needs to get away from Yerim.
“I can’t wait to see your new movie, sunbae.”
Jungeun brushes past Yerim on her way out and, until she rounds the corner, she feels Yerim’s eyes on her. Somewhere in the far back of her mind, Jungeun hopes she sees her again.
no subject
Tags: same idol generation and/or debuted around the same time
Prompt: hate at first sight (pulled from this list of reverse trope writing prompts)
[FILL] boy problems
Tags: misandry as an occupational necessity
Permission to Remix: Yes
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(This fic is not meant to be any form of promotion or support for either of their groups, even though I really miss my silly 04 hanlimz with their cute eye smiles who I think do not dislike each other in reality. In this fic, Suhye is unaware that Daeul’s contract is only for Boys Planet.)
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Kim Suhye does not, cannot, will not like Lee Daeul.
She hadn’t thought much of him when he was a round-faced musical theatre student she saw rough-housing with his friends in-between classes at school. Slamming face first into him as she rounds the corner to her vocal practice room is a different story, though.
“What are you doing here?” Suhye tries, and does not quite succeed, to sound cordial.
Daeul frowns, which is definitely not the hurried apology that she had been expecting, but she does her best to smooth her face out into a neutral expression — she’s been told to work on image after all.
“I’m a trainee here?”
Suhye feels her heart plummet, swept down to her feet together with the bucket of icy cold water that he might as well have poured over her head. She hasn’t even had the chance to debut yet. And, everyone knows what they say about small/mid-tier companies and impending boy groups.
When she comes to, Daeul is still talking.
“I was looking for you, actually,” she hears him say, “I was told that I could get some extra vocal coaching from you—”
“No.”
“What?” He looks so genuinely flabbergasted that it gives the impression that he doesn’t get told ‘no’ often. It makes Suhye dislike him all the more. Stupid, entitled, boy—
“I’m busy. I’m preparing for an EP.” She considers him, the slackness of his jaw that betrays his surprise, and quickly adds, “We’re all busy. Don’t bother asking the others.”
“B- But…” Daeul casts his eyes skyward, as if she’s somehow testing his patience when he’s the one going around demanding things.
Suhye grits her teeth, before relaxing into something a little more neutral when his eyes come down. All she is is assessing the potential damage when she says, “I didn’t know that new trainees were coming. Is it just you?”
“Oh, uh, me and Junseo. But he’s not here today—”
Suhye brushes past him, her shoulder nearly knocking into his as she heads to the practice room, before slamming the door shut behind her as she goes. She’s heard enough.
Suddenly, Lee Daeul is everywhere.
Suhye sees him in school, eyes fixed on her instead of whatever he’s meant to be doing at the moment, and around the company, always headed somewhere. She thinks she’s caught him glaring a few times, stupid ego probably hurt by the fact that she has more important things to do than give him help for free.
“What’s your problem?” He asks her once, his words sharp and snappish when she flings open the door to their shared dance practice room. He doesn’t even bother pausing the music that’s blaring through the speakers, eyes still fixed on the mirror.
“I have practice,” Suhye replies, because she does. “Get out.” They’re past being nice to one another.
“I booked the studio—”
Suhye looks past him, deliberately letting her eyes linger on the electronic clock on the wall. “No, you didn’t.”
Daeul whirls around, the sudden flurry of his movement nearly throwing him off balance. Suhye can’t help the little smile that creeps onto her lips as she watches him flounder.
“It’s only been a minute since my slot ended,” Daeul says, petulance lining the edge of his voice.
“Which means mine has begun.”
Daeul looks squarely at her, his expression unreadable from this distance. Then, he rolls his eyes and stalks off, yanking his phone from the sound system in a way that causes the speakers to crackle.
Suhye clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Don’t do that, we need to take care of the equipment.”
“You’re not any better than me just because you were here first,” he growls, pointedly ignoring her prior comment. He’s practically stomping as he leaves the practice room. How childish.
Suhye glares at his back. “Says the one who asked me for help!”
A reply never comes, leaving Suhye left to stand in the middle of the now empty practice room, which reeks of sweaty boy and body odor. She frowns to herself, irked by how unsatisfied his reaction leaves her since she’d totally owned him.
Her words hang in the air around her. They feel hollow, especially because she knows that Daeul isn’t wrong. She loathes to admit it, and will never do so out loud, but even with an upcoming EP release and a slew of pre-debut content guaranteed, there’s no promise that that won’t be the end of it. Daeul’s very existence suggests an ending to a career that hasn’t even begun. Even when Shiro unnie and Yeseo return, it’s not difficult for girls to be cast aside in favor of shiny new boys.
Re: [FILL] boy problems
yes!! i don't know either of them/didn't watch either show, but this is exactly the kind of look at being a new idol i was hoping for >:) not even in (pre)debut is there any kind of short term safety for a gg if there's even a hint of a boy group in the works... happened to my buddy [scrolls down the disbanded gg list on kprofiles]
thank you for writing!
no subject
Tags: vampire AU, gothic horror vibes, maybe some carmilla influence, toxic yuri, not sorry about the blood in your mouth i'm glad it's mine
Prompt: A is a half vampire half human kept in her family's home due to her 'illness' (being half vampire) while B is a full vampire who comes into A's life and for reasons they can feed on each other i don't think this is how vampires work but go with it because it's toxic. how did A become half vampire? how did B find A? up to you go wild
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: Magical Girl AU
Prompt:
so i haven’t consumed magical girl media since i was 13 but was getting a bunch of magical girl fanart on my feed out of nowhere today and feeling nostalgic…
i’d be happy to see it played straight with the frills and sparkle and pastels and brightness and heart, but probably even happier to see it subverted / with a darker angle? like a sort of variation of any of the following:
* magical girls as human sacrifices
* wanting to save the world only to realise it’s rotten during the process, and the ensuing doubt
* ”i don’t care about saving the world, i care about you”
* the sacrifice of self (physical, identity, etc) for the greater good
* magical girl-isms as an allegory for idolhood
* maidens and virginal purity as the antipathy to evil; religious allegories and themes
* aging out of girlhood and magic → loss of powers?
or whatever else you can think of! as long as there are pretty girls in pretty outfits with pretty weapons and magic powers!
[FILL] when your wings break
Tags: Wayward Children series fusion
Content Warnings: Implied child abuse, some gore
Permission to Remix: Yes
-
By the time Luda staggers to her feet, Dayoung’s rushed to her side, steadying her with careful hands.
“Unnie, are you okay?” Dayoung’s voice sounds distant, muffled by the ringing of Luda’s ears from the energy blast. She should’ve been faster, should’ve dodge it, should…
Head spinning, she rests a heavy hand on Dayoung’s shoulder, fingers clenching around the ruffle of her sleeve. When she pulls away, it leaves a crimson smear behind.
“Dayoung-ah,” Luda gasps, like her breaths are slipping away from her. “Your… shoulder…” The world spins. It’s impossible to tell if it’s hers or Dayoung’s, but the red makes her head throb with the wrongness it screams among the pretty pastels she’s come to call home for the past few years. “Dayoung…”
Luda jolts awake, scrambling for her wand. Arms flailing until they hit something solid, soft, warm.
Dayoung reels back, expression a little concerned, mostly confused. “Don’t worry,” Dayoung says, cheerful even as her hand comes up to rub at her nose, “they’re gone now.”
Luda slumps back, recognising the plush surface she’s lying on to be her bed, and lets the world coalesce back into place.
“It must’ve been a pretty hard hit, huh,” Dayoung’s bright voice, something that Luda had once found disconcerting but has now come to associate with comfort, rambles on, “you passed out on me — but just for a bit.”
“Mm…” Luda lets her eyes trace the ceiling absently, mentally cataloging all the places where her body hurts. Her abdomen mostly, and a deep ache in her right arm like an old injury aggravated. She’d lived in pain for so long that it takes her a moment — or maybe her head’s still too scrambled — to realise that it shouldn’t be hurting this much.
She turns her head, wincing as the muscle on her neck strains, searching for Dayoung. Dayoung’s wearing normal clothes now — a flowy dress with thin straps that bare the bandage wrapped around her left shoulder.
“Dayoung.” Luda pulls herself up into a sitting position, squeezing her eyes shut as the world tilts on its axis. She’s reaching an arm out, ignoring the ache as she fumbles for Dayoung. “Your arm.”
“Hm?” Dayoung glances down to her shoulder, catching Luda’s hand in hers. “Oh, I got nicked too. I guess.” Her shoulder slips out of Luda’s grasp, and she keeps her arm tucked carefully by her side.
“But…” The words cling to Luda’s mouth, her tongue heavy like it doesn’t want to form any sound. “You shouldn’t be injured.”
She sounds stupidly juvenile, Luda thinks, but the injuries they acquire aren’t supposed to stick once they’ve vanquished the evil forces and become normal girls again. Magical girls don’t bleed, they don’t get hurt — that’s something that belongs only to the evil, as retribution for their sins.
The look on Dayoung’s face is oddly pitying. Luda squirms in place, realising that she doesn’t want to hear what Dayoung has to say next.
“I’ve always gotten injured,” Dayoung says, unwinding the bandage like Luda has to see what’s underneath to know it’s real. “If you’re born here — if you’re a kid, you don’t get hurt so much, because kids haven’t done anything yet. But, as you get older, one day your bruises will stick, or your arm will dislocate, or your ribs will break. That’s just how it works.”
Luda can’t tear her eyes away as the bandage falls off. She braces herself for the worst, a mangled mess of blood and flesh, something like what her own had looked like after a particularly bad meeting with a glass bottle as a kid. She didn’t know that type of pain could exist here.
“That’s why we need heroes like you.” Dayoung sounds apologetic, but it doesn’t stop her from saying we. “If you’re not born here, then the world protects you a while longer — until you’re an adult, you’re invincible. That’s what makes you a hero.”
Dayoung shrugs the bandage off. What lies underneath is a massive, discolored bruise, blanketing what looks like an old scar. “I still heal fast,” she says, rolling her shoulder experimentally. “But, unnie, your birthday must have passed. You need to be more careful now.”
Finally, Luda is able to look away, fixing her gaze on her hands which clench her blanket tightly in them. Time passes differently here, and she’d always felt a little older when she transformed, so she never tried to keep track. Had eight years passed so quickly?
“What happens,” Luda asks, wanting to reach for her wand, for the security it always gave her, yet too scared to do so, “if I…. am not careful? Do I go back?” There’s a whine on the tip of her tongue, unbefitting of someone who must be an adult by now. I don’t want to go back.
“Sometimes people go back,” Dayoung says carefully. “My unnie’s friend disappeared one day, so I guess she went back. But, if you stay, you’re one of us. The same rules apply to you.”
Luda keeps quiet, trying to wrap her mind around what Dayoung is saying.
When she was ten, she’d been swept into this strange world where everyone wore pretty dresses. They told her she could have magical powers too, if she transformed, and then she’d be strong enough to purge evil. It was a child’s dress-up dream come true. It wasn’t real.
“Sometimes when you fight in a war, people die.”
“Does it hurt?” The words escape Luda’s mouth before she can stop them, leaving her feeling small and stupid. She hadn’t thought of herself as a soldier.
“I thought you knew, I thought they told you. Before you became my friend.” Dayoung sounds like she’s trying to defend herself. “Did they not tell you?”
When Luda doesn’t say anything, Dayoung’s hand finds hers. “But, you want to stay, right?”
The next time Luda finds herself on the battlefield, mortality weighs heavily in her mind. She can’t make sense of it, not when she’d been so sure it didn’t exist for so long.
When a mass of shadows surges toward Dayoung, eager to leech her energy and taint her with darkness, too fast for Dayoung to effectively block and useless against Luda’s aggressive arsenal, she throws herself in front of the younger girl.
Someone like Dayoung, who’s been fighting this battle wholeheartedly since she was old enough to grip a wand without dropping it, who had the option Luda was never presented of being an ordinary citizen, does not deserve to die.
When Luda comes to, she’s sprawled out on the ground. The world spins. Settles.
A dingy alley, draped in the dreaded grey of evil, brackets her, something so wholly foreign that it sends a stab of panic through her. She pushes herself up, too dizzy to stand fully. Her clothes cling oddly to her skin, and it feels like her nose is dripping.
“Dayoung-ah,” she calls out of instinct, scrubbing her nose. Her hand comes away wet. When she rubs it clean on her leg, it leaves a red stain on the faded jeans she’s wearing.
“Teenagers these days,” she hears, as someone walks past the alley, clicking their tongue disapprovingly. “Getting shitfaced and sleeping outside. If I were her parents, I’d be so embarrassed I’d die.”
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-18 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: alternate universe - mv, [group] lore, world-building/character study
Prompt:
so you think you’ve got lore? explore it! whether it’s a singular mv or overarching group lore and world building
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-19 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)Tags:
Prompt: cutting your hair short for a comeback and liking it a little too much
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-19 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: idolverse
Prompt:
seeing someone you used to work with at a music show. could be post-disbandment members who signed with different companies or trainees where one left. bonus point if now one is much more famous than the other
[FILL] come recognize me (anywhere)
(Anonymous) 2025-03-03 12:46 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: Canon compliant (idolverse), Canon Divergent (I mess with their promotion timelines to make them meet <3)
Permission to Remix: Yes
CW: This fic starts strongly with references to a near miss of a fainting spell, slightly disordered eating (specifically not eating, being conscious of eating, and its consequences) but nothing major or serious is depicted. Please lmk if you think I should be tagging this in greater detail!
This got too long so here's the link (https://archiveofourown.org/works/63556315) to the rest of the fic, it's also better read on Ao3 for formatting purposes x
-
Lights. Flickering. Or maybe. Maybe just her vision?
Just her vision.
One second—an eternity—a breath—hand around her wrist. Close your eyes. Open them. Fluorescent lights may make your head hurt but they’ll ground you in reality. Ground—tile beneath her feet. Beneath inserts and heels.
Hand around her wrist, connected to body. Body, face, eyes, a pair of them. Kind eyes, there and gone in a flash. Black pupils, black night closing in—blink, focus, breathe, cling to life—fluorescent lighting, black pupil, brown iris. Irises. An eye—dark midnight sky—a pair of eyes, kind. Wrinkled- in concern.
Chaeyeon-ssi. Chaeyeon-ssi.
Chaeyeon-ssi.
Chaeyeon-ssi?
Chaeyeon-ssi-
Silence, ringing, deafening-
“Oh? Chaeyeon-ah?” That voice—
—hand around her wrist—warm, soft, burning , water in her lungs, breath—
—Chaeyeon breathes. Her eyes blink open. On the wall, the clock ticks to the next minute. The woman who was just at the opposite end of the hallway has now only reached the middle. Not a single person breaks their busy pace.
Chaeyeon breathes.
No one pays her any mind, except two people at either side– one, her kind manager.
The other—
“Unnie,” Chaeyeon breathes. Oxygen in her lungs—relief, burning, then cloying, sticky-sweet.
Eunbi’s doe eyes blink up at her.
She’s standing slightly behind Chaeyeon, now that she can take in their sudden proximity, Eunbi’s miraculous presence—
—How? How did that happen?
She's standing slightly behind Chaeyeon, and her body faces the opposite direction. Near-mirror images, always; almost symmetrical, not quite. Always missing each other. Eunbi stands just behind her, facing the other way, as if she had stopped mid-stride. Her hand extended awkwardly, like she’d reached behind to grasp at Chaeyeon—like she’d glossed over her face as they’d crossed paths in the busy hallway, registering a moment too late.
Chaeyeon wonders what that feels like—for her body not to be cosmically vibrating on the same frequency as the subject of her affection–obsession? Sometimes it feels like an obsession.
If I hadn’t just been about to faint, she thinks, mildly, the past minute properly catching up to her, I would have felt you from rooms away.
That’s on her, though, on her obsession. She’s nothing close to the object of Eunbi’s affection, can’t expect any degree of devotion. An afterthought, though—that she can deal with being. The hand wrapped around her wrist had still reached out, and touched. Held them together, in this rippling current of bodies.
“Chaeyeon-ah,” Eunbi says reproachfully, stepping closer. A couple of feet past her, her manager checks her watch. Chaeyeon’s eyes track the motion, slowly—any faster and she’s at risk of nearly fainting again. “Yah, are you okay? Have you eaten?”
It takes her back instantly—
—different waiting rooms, varying sizes, changing seasons, ever-present longing in her heart. Take me back, it whispers, and with an equal ferocity clamps down on the thought. Don’t let nostalgia rule you. She cannot let nostalgia rule her, not when it comes back at every turn, a familiar, beloved face cropping up once every two months, not when Eunbi is right there, appearing when she least expects it—
Stop it.
“I’m- I was on my way to lunch,” says Chaeyeon.
Her manager clicks her tongue at her side, pressing a palm to the nape of her neck. The touch makes her flinch; the room shifts and sharpens, like someone’s put her glasses on moments after she’s blinked awake, only half-conscious and not realising how lacking her vision was, blurring her periphery while hyper-focusing on the dramatically beautiful face in front of her, as it’s tragically used to—horribly conditioned to.
“The food’s ready, Chaeyeon-ssi,” her manager says, rubbing circles into her back. “I didn’t realise you’d been pushing yourself so much. Do you need the medical room?”
Chaeyeon shakes her head, as gently as she can. Not one person in this hall would let this experience linger, entirely too familiar with their variety.
“Just need to eat. I didn’t realise, either, unnie,” she says, to her manager, but she’s still looking at Eunbi, who’s already stepping back, melting back into the current she’d parted for them, for Chaeyeon, just for the duration of those precious few moments—enough. More than enough. Benevolent in an unthinking way, always. It’s always been the most fatal thing about her, for Chaeyeon.
“Eat,” Eunbi says, eyes lingering, as do the pads of her fingertips. Light brush, bruising touch. “I’ll come by in a bit. You’d better be alright, then.”
“Yes, leader-nim,” Chaeyeon says, faintly, a weak smile tugging at her lips, but Eunbi has already been swallowed back up.
Chaeyeon feels her until they both exit at opposite ends of the hall, until there are two doors between them—and even then, still.
-
Still—the knock on her dressing room comes as a surprise.
Eunbi’s careless kindness means she makes a lot of promises she plans to follow through on, and very few she values as much as the people she makes them to. Chaeyeon is by far her worst victim—but of her own accord, solely. No one had asked her to be this way. Chaeyeon climbed every step down in full awareness of her descent.
She’s curled up on the couch, having freshly eaten. Vegetables, then beef, then a carefully portioned third of her rice, though she felt she was justified in sneaking some extra, what with the near miss. No one had said anything—they’re all somewhere on the same sea, riding the same currents, short distances apart—near enough to understand. To enforce at some times, to empathise at others.
No one had said anything. Chaeyeon trusts them—her mind is at rest. She’s nearly dozing off on the couch, waiting for pre-recording to begin, choreography beating out an unceasing thrum under her skin, almost soothing, when the knock comes.
"One second," Chaeyeon calls out, blinking awake, feet landing hard on the floor as she sits up. She stands, tugging her pants up over her safety shorts.
The knock comes again, a playful beat that skips in time with her heartbeat as she thinks: It can’t be.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Chaeyeon-ah," Eunbi calls through the door, lilting in that oh-so familiar manner.
Chaeyeon flies to her feet, more feather-like than any choreography execution she’s been praised for. The only person with her in the room right now is her hair stylist, packing up her kit, and she only smiles, amused.
The door opens to reveal Eunbi’s impish grin, so ill-fitting on that hauntingly beautiful face. Her hand goes up to Chaeyeon's lightly curled hair, tugging at a strand mournfully. "I can’t believe this. I didn’t get the chance to say it just now, but– you dyed it again?"
Chaeyeon doesn't grace this with a response—just wraps an arm around Eunbi's waist, tugging her close until she melts into Chaeyeon.
Their meeting just an hour ago feels like one of Chaeyeon’s familiar dreams, with how out of it she had been, waking over and over in the span of moments, heart still weak and mind still flickering in and out of function.
Her heart feels weak for another reason entirely, now, a familiar, shameful one. Her mind is healthy, racing ahead.
Foolish heart, falling back into old patterns—a known rhythm, a risky one. She doesn't bother praying for Eunbi not to hear it—if she never has before, she won't start now.
"Unnie," she mumbles into Eunbi's hair.
Re: [FILL] come recognize me (anywhere)
(Anonymous) 2025-03-03 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-19 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)Tags:
Prompt:
member who is on hiatus x member who is usually overlooked and now suddenly gets more lines/spotlight
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-19 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: smut
Prompt:
one of your groupmates starts having obvious sex dreams when you're sharing a room (or can be sharing a bed too)
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-20 06:53 am (UTC)(link)Tags: Jealousy
Prompt:
Friendship dates jealousy
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-20 06:56 am (UTC)(link)Tags: fic crossovers
Prompt:
Character jumping over/ entering other fanfic masterpieces.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-20 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)Tags:
Prompt:
one member from a gay business relationship duo suddenly doesn't want to do fanservice anymore
[FILL] what you love about me-me-me
Tags: canon compliant
Permission to Remix: Yes
-
Sihyeon blinks at her like she's speaking in a different language when Yiren says, "It's a little patronising, unnie."
It almost makes Yiren doubt whether she spoke in Korean at all, but she knows she did.
It's Sihyeon. Yiren would talk to her in Korean even in her sleep.
"You don't like me making a cheek heart on you?" Sihyeon asks, enunciating her words like she's speaking to a child.
"God," Yiren sighs and then feels like said child throwing a tantrum immediately. "It's not that. I just. Forget it."
*
The problem is that Sihyeon does as asked and not as Yiren wants--the two are rarely alike, and Sihyeon knows that better than anyone else. Except the more she adheres to Yiren's request to not broach the topic, the more it feels like perhaps she doesn't after all.
Or worse, that as long as it didn't interfere with their dynamic on stage, Sihyeon didn't care anyway.
*
So Yiren goes into overdrive, throwing up rock-paper-scissors when Sihyeon asks for a high-five during the encore, ignoring all calls for a joint heart when they go live, crossing Sihyeon's name off all 'which member would you pick' quizzes at fansigns; every new tour stop brings forth more ways to evade Sihyeon's hands, her eyes, the inevitability of being pulled towards each other.
At best, it's obvious to anyone looking and at worst, it's highly self-destructive but nobody calls her out on it because barely anyone's paying them any attention anyway, and the six of them have long since stopped meddling in each other's business unless directly asked to do so.
*
Yiren hasn't felt Sihyeon's palm against her cheek in over a month and she thinks, stupidly, that she might die if someone didn't touch her soon.
Does Sihyeon miss how neatly Yiren fit into her arms, too?
So she barges into Eunji and Yoorim's shared hotel room and tucks herself against Yoorim, who is busy hunting for the next challenge to try on TikTok.
Eunji's on her phone, too, on her own bed and pays Yiren very little attention, as per usual.
Yiren talks around in circles, and then in straight, unambiguous lines when it's clear Yoorim hasn't read into the tension around her and Sihyeon at all.
Yoorim's methods of diagnosis drive Yiren to the point of questioning whether she's constructed this tension in her own head but it is Eunji who cuts to the heart of the matter, almost heartlessly. "You want Sihyeon unnie to want you for you, away from the cameras and the group. You want her to just want you. But Yiren-ah...it's Sihyeon unnie."
She doesn't elaborate. She doesn't need to.
There's pity unmasked all over her face at Yiren's willingness to stand in line behind not-boyfriend number three, who Sihyeon is busy dishing out heartbreak to over long-distance texts.
Yiren didn't even know that Eunji cared enough to listen to Yiren's lovesick whinging.
Or maybe it's just another survival tactic, patch up the sinking parts of a doomed ship long enough to haul yourself ashore.
Yiren understands but she doesn't care about what Eunji has said either.
Come another fan-meeting, Yiren will continue orchestrating distance between her and Sihyeon, if only to wait for the curtains to fall and hope for a hand that might reach for her in the darkness just as it had under the blinding lights.
Perhaps needing to be wanted is her only means to survive this world, too.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-20 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)Tags:
Prompt:
out and proud x closeted and scared
[FILL] will + won't
Tags: non-idol AU, established relationship, angst, drinking, panic attack mention, not as terrible as the tags make it sound?
Permission to Remix: Yes
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Ryujin withers at Chaeryeong calling her my good friend and shatters as Chaeryeong jerks away when she tries to hold her hand in public. And still, that square-toothed smile; those whisker-dimples in a tanned face that Chaeryeong thinks is the perfect mix of pretty and handsome.
What they’re doing is wrong - at least on Chaeryeong’s end. She should let Ryujin go, let the woman find someone who has inner strength, a real conviction of will. Someone who doesn’t have a sister merely one year her senior, seemingly born so that her parents have a person to compare her to forever and always.
But Chaeryeong just isn’t that kind. Not yet.
“How does your closeted ass have a girlfriend and I don’t?”
Only Jisu has enough knowledge to say such things to Chaeryeong and enough awareness to utter them quietly. Even so, the words make Chaeryeong jump a little in her plastic cafe chair. She leans back in it, breathes out from her nose, and furrows her gentle brow. “Aren’t you closeted, too?”
“Mm, no - not really,” Jisu says. “I just don’t tell unless I’m asked. And I don’t get asked very often.” Then she smiles, awkward and self-pitying, as she leans towards the table, seemingly chasing Chaeryeong even as she tries to create distance. “I try not to read into why that is.”
“Oh,” Chaeryeong says, like a balloon deflating. She takes another sip of her iced coffee, mostly melted ice now. It’s the action itself that counts for something, because it has to.
Jisu apologizes for her stupid, blunt question (her words, not Chaeryeong’s) and changes the subject. Chaeryeong hums in acknowledgment and chews on her straw.
“I’m going out to the bar.”
“Okay,” Chaeryeong says. She isn’t taking an interest anymore; in the past she’d ask what it was like there or who Ryujin was meeting or whether it was karaoke night (and if so, which song Ryujin wanted to sing). Ryujin tries not to let the hurt run its course too deeply, even though she can’t actually stop it from being there - has gotten to know this by trial and error.
Chaeryeong doesn’t associate with those kinds of places. She and Ryujin are only together because they both decided to take a chance and share an apartment with a stranger they’d met on a Reddit thread, then had a few conversations with on Instagram. These are the facts.
Chaeryeong still kisses Ryujin goodbye, still whispers, “Call me if you need me” - even though Ryujin is starting to wonder if she actually would.
“So…how’s your girl? Are we ever gonna meet her?” Yuna asks.
“She’s fine.” Ryujin thinks about the time Chaeryeong had made up her mind to come here, the local lesbian bar that Ryujin and her friends frequent, and had a panic attack in the bathroom. Her bird-like chest fluttering and fluttering and fluttering, cheeks wet against Ryujin’s palms. Ryujin never told anyone the real reason they didn’t show up that night. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“But you want us to?”
“Of course,” Ryujin says. She’s already halfway through her first drink and her eyes feel teary, the pride flags on the back wall blurring slightly as she blinks hard. She believes Chaeryeong would like it here. She knows Chaeryeong would fit in, if she wanted to. Would probably make the bartenders laugh.
“Two months,” Yeji remarks, much like a lawyer reciting facts to a courtroom. “Don’t make yourself a martyr, Ryujin.” The way it comes out isn’t mean, especially not with how her voice gets kind of silly once she’s tipsy, but it still sounds like: Don’t love her. Don’t see her everyday. Disentangle your life from hers.
If only it were that easy.
If only that's what Ryujin wanted.
“Yeji,” Yuna pleads, reaching out for both Yeji’s hand and Ryujin’s as her big, mascara-rimmed eyes move back and forth between them.
“It’s alright,” Ryujin lies. “Advice is advice. I’ll keep that in mind.”
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-21 12:01 am (UTC)(link)Tags:
Prompt:
teaching another member how to kiss and/or fuck
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-21 12:03 am (UTC)(link)Tags: post disbandment
Prompt:
character A can only get a job working for their much more succesful ex-member, character B
no subject
Tags: idolverse
Prompt:
covering up a murder in the inkigayo bathrooms
signal song
Tags: Idolverse, Ghosts
Permission to Remix: Please ask
sorry, this is not the inkigayo bathrooms
-
If Xiaoting never has to see the ecru wall tiles of the WakeOne bathrooms again, then it will be too soon. The mess of brains and blood remains on the floor even after she’d exorcised the gui because of course she can’t catch a break.
The gui had been masquerading as a staffer, its ID lanyard now coated in red. It had poked its head into the practice room and asked for Xiaoting. “Urgent business,” it had said when Yujin had stopped the music and furrowed her brow.
Xiaoting had given her an apologetic smile before following the staffer out, mentally pencilling midnight dance practice into her schedule. She would think that the company would know better than to interrupt comeback preparations; perhaps it was something urgent, like visa issues or an update in her contract negotiations.
She would’ve much rather dealt with paperwork than cleaning up viscera.
The jiggling of the bathroom door snaps her out of her stupor. Naturally, she had forgotten to lock the door in her haste to dump the body in the bathroom. Forget visa issues, she thinks hysterically. She’ll be stuck here forever.
“Occupied, sorry!” she says as the door swings open and she’s met with Kim Jiwoong.
To Jiwoong’s credit, he doesn’t panic when he registers the body.
“Sunbaenim—” he starts to say.
“Please don’t,” Xiaoting says, interrupting him. “Could you get Zhang Hao, please?” She should’ve grabbed her phone and texted him. She’d been the one who had initially warned him and Ricky about the gui haunting the company— familiar ghosts in a foreign country.
Jiwoong winces. “I can’t,” he says. “He has a schedule today.”
Xiaoting wonders if she has enough time to rinse the blood from her skin while he leaves and reports her, but instead Jiwoong slips inside the bathroom and closes the door behind him. She hears the dull click of the lock before Jiwoong gets on his knees and takes the hand towel from her hands.
He glances at the stray ID lanyard twisted on the floor. “Never liked him anyway,” he says lightly.
Xiaoting chokes out a laugh. “You’re acting very normal about this.”
“How would you rather I act?” Jiwoong asks.
“Upset, I guess?” Xiaoting gestures to the body. “Do you hide a lot of corpses?”
The residual panic from being caught is starting to subside. She’s used to internalizing her fear while her dream dangles off a precipice. She looks at Jiwoong’s impassive face and thinks that Zhang Hao hadn’t been the only one to study past survival show seasons.
“Although, it’s not a corpse in any meaningful way,” she continues. “The actual human that this gui was born from died ages ago.”
“Gui?”
“A ghost,” Xiaoting says. Close enough. “They’re drawn to WakeOne for some reason. I think it’s due to the temporary nature of this place. You can ask Zhang Hao for more details.”
“No need,” Jiwoong says. “I believe you.”
They scrub the blood out in silence, save for the occasional requests to rinse out the hand towel and for more paper towels.
When they’re done, the waste bin is full.
“You can take out the trash, and I’ll dispose of the body,” Jiwoong tells her.
Xiaoting frowns. “I can get rid of the body,” she says. “It’s no big deal.” It’ll be a pain to drag the gui out to a safe location, but she doesn’t trust Jiwoong to dispose of the body correctly.
“Remember what you asked me earlier?” Jiwoong’s mouth twists up into a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
Re: signal song
(Anonymous) 2025-03-22 08:52 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Tags: scooby doo au
Prompt:
mystery inc is a polycule
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-02-22 08:35 am (UTC)(link)Tags: age gap, maybe crossover?
Prompt:
An older member coming to the rescue of a younger one in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation
it's about the history
Tags: idolverse
Prompt: A & B are or were under the same company, ie coworkerisms at their best. meeting by chance in the hybe elevator? on purpose during rehearsals for the sm new year's concert? training together, freshly graduated from middle school? collaborating on a project? a senior group dropping in on a predebut dance practice? so much potential...
[FILL] all I got
Tags: idolverse
Permission to Remix: Yes
A/N: i’m doing it for the seulgicycle
-
“I think you’re a good person,” Seulgi says in the concrete stairwell. Where she’s leaning against the fifteenth floor door the push bar springs in, and out again as she shys away from it.
Baekhyun looks at her sharply. “Careful, you’ll fall.”
“I won’t.”
“Then what are you even doing there?”
What is she doing here? Seulgi should have asked herself that question hours ago. Weeks ago, in fact. When did her self-control give in so completely? Baekhyun adjusts his black baseball cap and the mask on his face, and sighs.
“Don’t tell me this is a bad idea, Kang Seulgi.”
“It is,” she insists.
“I’d believe you if you weren’t in my apartment building right now,” he says.
Seulgi found out about the contract dispute a few days before it leaked. don’t freak out, he texted with no context. She was on the way to a schedule and put her phone down on her lap, not daring to look at it again until the van had unloaded at the back door and she knew she was all alone.
He laughed when he picked up her call, ever the hypocrite. “Brave to do this in broad daylight.” He knew where she was, it was a public event.
“Am I supposed to think about what you meant for the rest of the day?” Seulgi snapped.
“No, you’re supposed to be a professional and focus on your fans.”
“You’re the worst,” she said.
“I meant it when I said not to worry. I just wanted to warn you something was happening, that’s all. The less you know the better.” He knew also that she was in the middle of her own contract negotiations.
“You’re killing me,” Seulgi responded. He hung up on her.
It had started raining since they’d arrived at the venue. She stood underneath the overhang for a bit longer, watching the water pool in the parking lot.
“Who are you always texting these days?” Yerim had asked a few months ago, mischief on her face. Two things are true: a broken clock is always right twice a day, and Kang Seulgi is a terrible liar.
“...My brother,” Seulgi said, sheepish. She pretended to search for something in her bag so she wouldn’t have to look at Yerim. “It’s, you know. Our parents’ anniversary soon.” She pulled out a lip tint and reapplied some.
“Uh-huh. Reeks of overcompensating.”
“It’s not,” she whined, and Yerim just rolled her eyes and took another bite of her melon bread. It wasn’t worth being right about, especially in the middle of a waiting room.
“I think part of you wants to get caught,” Joohyun told her later, disapproving.
Seulgi felt she was probably right but resented that she said it out loud. “Don’t be jealous.”
Joohyun turned her head. “Think what you want,” she said. “It’s not my problem.”
Some things are binary. The night will end in one of two ways: either Seulgi will have slept with him or she won’t have. The details of either option, whether they involve making coffee in his apartment in the morning or hailing a 2:30AM cab on the ground floor in the most inconspicuous way possible, are frankly irrelevant right now.
“You’re not leaving,” Baekhyun says, in the stairwell. It’s not a command— it’s an observation.
“I don’t know how to make decisions,” Seulgi says, desperately. “I’m sorry.”
He looks up at the spiral of staircases above them, and she knows distantly he is considering the possibilities too: someone else will find out what happens tonight, or they won’t. “I wouldn’t want to regret you,” Baekhyun says, miserable. “I’m scared I will either way.”
In her heart, she knows what she’d regret more. Seulgi reaches for his hand and opens the door.
Re: [FILL] all I got
“I wouldn’t want to regret you,” Baekhyun says, miserable. “I’m scared I will either way.” this line is sooo gutting, despite the obviousness of the set-up and all the rest of it...
i think i only, consistently, read hetfics from you, risa, and i wouldnt have it any other way.
Re: [FILL] all I got
i'm glad you liked it pb! thank you for the high compliments <33
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-03-01 05:10 pm (UTC)(link)Tags: Body Dysmorphia
Prompt:
Post-hiatus Jeongyeon is scrutinized for her weight on the regular, and as much as she tries to keep positive it still takes its toll on her. Jihyo reaches out, knowing how that feels all too intimately, and even now that pain and hurt driving her to gym out to the point of exhaustion.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-03-02 06:30 am (UTC)(link)Tags: canon compliant
Prompt:
Eunseo visits her girlfriend on one of her sets
no subject
(Anonymous) 2025-03-03 06:34 am (UTC)(link)Tags: challengers au
Prompt:
a/b/c as art/patrick/tashi