response to @svtwritenight‘s prompt 06: character A needs to confess something to character B. Write the scene without using abstractions.
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Every time you catch your leg restlessly bouncing beneath the table and will it to still, it isn’t long before that exact process occurs again.
Wonwoo’s glasses slide down the sharp bridge of his nose in a similarly repetitive fashion and while seesawing a pencil with your fingers you wonder whether his regular act of pushing them back up is subconscious. Nimble fingers poke out of the large sleeves of his sweater to turn a page in his textbook, reminding you of how long ago you last turned a page in your own, or even completed reading a full sentence. Itchy teeth fidget with the flesh of your lower lip, leaving a reddened surface in their wake.
Your leg is bouncing again, until it stops.
You ready yourself to speak but are prevented by a sudden thickness in your throat and your eyebrows furrow. A taut fist squeezes your pencil while the other lies clutched over your lap, a consistently rapid heartbeat pulsating within your chest. Wonwoo’s eyes remain fixed on his schoolwork, shielded from noticing your leg that bounces under the table. It stops.
A hesitant hand covers your mouth as you clear your throat.
“Wonwoo.”
His eyes glancing up at you causes your heart to jump and the saliva you force down your throat is dense. Hot blood rises along your neck and finds purchase beneath the skin covering your cheeks, your leg bouncing briskly. It keeps bouncing.
Wonwoo hums, stare locked with yours and your chest heaves in a steady rhythm.
“Uh,” you begin, voice wavering and you keep your own fingers from pinching yourself as a result. Still reddened lips form a stiff line before proceeding. “I-...”
Wonwoo keeps still and your tongue curls around another thick swallow. One deep breath in, one heavy sigh out.
“I’m the friend Seungkwan keeps saying has a-a crush on you.”
The man opposite you blinks once, twice, thrice. Surrounding sounds suggesting the company of human life become white noise and hurried pounding bounces in your ears. Your lungs freeze as the next breath they will take is put on hold and crescents form in the skin of your palms by curled fingers with solid nails.
Wonwoo looks back down before he smiles, grin stretching generously from one cheek to the other, hand fluid as it jots something down in his notebook.
“I know,” his low voice affirms without meeting your wide-eyed stare.
The drumming within your rib cage gradually calms, lungs slowing in their previously hasty breaths. Your fists relax and your leg stills. It does not resume its bouncing even once for the remainder of the afternoon.
summary: your relationship with wonwoo seemed to be made of seasons. now, during autumn, it felt like it was time to let it fall along the leaves.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
a/n: a small drabble for @svtwritenight and related to this prompt. i couldn’t screenshot, but the picture i got was a bunch of autumn leaves, so it’s quite self explanatory.
You stared at the golden looking leaves falling across the grass. It was funny. All it took for them to fall down was a simple, soft breeze. This same breeze caused goosebumps to appear against your skin. Wonwoo was sitting next to you, but you never felt so distant. You wondered how the two of you came to this. How something as mundane as a breeze was able to turn your relationship into crumbs. How a fucking little wind made it all slip through your fingers.
Everyone talks about the wonders of dating your best friend. How priceless it is to have someone next to you who knows you and who loves you for that exact same reason. No one talks about the downfalls of that, though. What if someone changes? What if both change? How do you deal with that, then? Do you still feel like you know them? If you don’t, are you able to continue to love them, despite that? What if you feel like you don’t even know who you are anymore? How are you supposed to keep up with their changes as well? What happens to the friendship after a break up? Thinking it remains untouched is too naive, almost childlike. Could you even break up with your best friend? Was that even doable? Well, it had to be. You’d make it doable.
The two of you grew up along side each other and turning into something more than friends was something that came naturally. It was expected, you guessed. Everyone thought this would happen at some point. But no one thought you’d break as easily as you came together. You couldn’t point a finger at Wonwoo and blame it all on him. Not without looking at the mirror and recognizing you played your part in it too. Life was also at fault. There are too many variables in human relationships which you can’t control. They affected this dynamic as much as both of your actions did. You had fallen into the ultimate cliche - things happen, you guessed.
You didn’t know how to go on without Wonwoo and you didn’t know how to go on with him at this moment. You want to hold on to him, oh so badly. You just don’t know how. Or if you should. Or if you can. Maybe this love was made of seasons. Maybe now, in autumn, it was time to let go of it. Let go and let it reshape so it can blossom again later on. Maybe thinking like this would make this less unbearable.
You let out a breath, “Wonwoo?” He simply hummed in acknowledgment. “You’re my best friend. C-can you be honest with me?” You could feel warmth coming from his shoulder while it rested against yours, despite the weather and the layers of clothes you were both wearing. It was good to feel him against you.
He kept staring at the trees in front of him. Serious, collected, Wonwoo. Like magnets, he then took your hand in his. Another goosebump. “Always.”
“Aren’t you tired too?” It hurt to feel distant, to adjust to the changes you were both going through. You felt trapped and this was not how a relationship was supposed to go.
“You know me, how do you think I feel?” There was no rudeness or sarcasm in his voice. It was just an honest question.
“Do I?” You inquired. You thought he was tired too. It was impossible for him not to be.
Wonwoo let out a sad chuckle, “Maybe not anymore.”
No, do not to focus on the excruciating pain you’re feeling. Focus on the fact that you know, deep down, that he’ll come back to you the same way you’ll come back to him. He was yours to keep. You were his destiny. So maybe now it was time to trust life would do its trick later on. Kinda like that red thread of fate history. If you love it, let it go. Now, it was too painful to be together as something more than friends. You cherished the history you two had built too much to let it die alongside this tiresome relationship.
You swallowed dry, “Maybe if we end this now, we can still save some of it for later.”
You saw a particular leave fall down. It kinda looked like a heart. Yeah, your heart. Another blow, another leave. Another blow, another piece of you and Wonwoo falling down.
“You know we’ll end up together, right?” Wonwoo said, squeezing your hand.
You nodded, “That’s the only reason why I’m doing this now.”
“Ok.” He laced your fingers together. It felt somewhat like a plea. Please, don’t go. Don’t end this. Please, let’s be together. No, don’t give in. If you give in now, it will just ruin everything. It’s autumn now, it’s time to fall. You’d still have to deal with winter, but spring would come soon. You’d be back with him again. You just had to endure the colder times. Do this for you and for him too. He spoke again, voice barely a whisper after you didn’t answer to his unspoken request, “So I just let you go now?”
At a particular strong breeze, you felt tears forming by your eyes. “You’re not letting me go. We’re surrendering. You said yourself we’ll end up together, right?” He nodded. “So just let fate act on us. We’ll won’t survive if we keep this going on now, Woo.”
He agreed. He knew better. This doesn’t mean it felt good to simply break up. You were still everything to him. He used to feel invincible by your side. Now, he felt nothing but defeat. He felt like you were meant to be eternal. Now, it was nothing but forever fading away. However, you were still the one he loved the most. But maybe that’s why he should allow the breeze to knock him out. To knock you out. In order to rise his love, he had to allow it to fall to the ground first. Letting it fall would make it stronger. Still, he felt small. Unwanted. Unloved. So he had to ask. “Will you still love me after autumn?”
You looked at him for the first time, staring at his breathtaking features. You hoped your eyes would speak even louder than your words. “Always.”
a/n: hm ok so! wrote this in like, 1 hour. this is actually an idea i have for a longer thing which i’ll maybe develop later on. i’m trying to write more for seventeen so i thought joining the writenight would be a nice idea. feedback’s always, always appreciated. feel free to drop by here. i’m excited to read other entries hehe. on other notes, isn’t wonwoo a perfect person for a friends to lovers thingy? and also to angsty plots. stay tuned :)
response to @svtwritenight‘s prompt 2: character A has unexpectedly run into character B. Write something that answers these questions: where are they, and why is it surprising to find B there?
- - -
It's three drinks in when Seungcheol realises that the bar Mingyu picked has a live band. Tucked into the dim front corner, by the long window is a trio - a drummer, a guitarist and a singer. Jun and Mingyu are rowdy, so much so that the english cover can barely be heard. The thickly lacquered wood table is sticky under his shot glass and Jeonghan giggles at how flushed he is already. Seokmin has his head tipped back, already passed out, wedged between a sober Vernon and Wonwoo. The lighting is dim enough to be warm, even as the exposed yellow bulb swings low above them. His back is to the band, but Seungcheol doesn't pay any mind, too distracted by the drinking game in front of him that he was about to lose...again.
It's six...no, seven, drinks in when the final strum of the set vibrates against his back.
"Okay, we're gonna take a twenty minute break, thanks guys!"
The voice is familiar, but the young man can't put his finger on it. Mingyu's head is lolling on his neck as he whines about how drunk he is. Seokmin is awake again and finding every breath funny. Jeonghan nudges him insistently with a bony shoulder.
"C'mon, cheollie. Your shout this round." He cheers. "Cheollie, cheollie, cheollie!"
He rolls his eyes but nods with a smile, holding his hand up for an attendant. Waving it with a bit of distorted impatience, Seungcheol stands to look for someone's attention. His elbow jabs someone who squeaks in pain.
It's then the recognisable scent of heady florals stabs him, forcing him to turn. Narrow pupils and ajar mouth meet him. It's a version he's seen too many times.
"Y/n?"
"S-Seungcheol - I, uh Cheol?" You splutter, similarly shocked.
Of course it's your favourite perfume that he recognises. The same always settled into your skin, that seeps into his shirts when you hang out.
"What are you- You said you were busy tonight." He says, hand still in midair.
Zero drinks and two nights ago, he'd invited you out for drinks with them. Hassled you seeing as you hadn't been seen since before the lunar new year. Something you swiftly turned down with a teary emoji and other arrangements. A rain check.
You fidget on the spot, tugging and playing with the long moonstone pendant on tonight. The rapper finally gets a chance to take in your attire. A pair of jeans and a thin top and stylish dark jacket.
"I-I am. I have been. I, uh will be." You say, evasive.
"Oh?"
Cheol is seven drinks in when he hears your name being called over the chatter of the bar from the corner where the music came from. The lanky guy on the cajón holds up a cranberry coloured drink in one of his hands. You nod in a gesture to stall.
"Why is the drummer calling for you?" He says slow, the flush on his face fading with growing sobriety.
You twist the metal chain even more, eyes on anything but him. You shrug.
"I may be in…." He doesn't catch the end of your sentence. You clear your throat. "I'm the singer in a band. Me and a couple of guys from my old communications class started up a cover band. This is a regular gig of ours."
"You sing?" He says, bewildered.
You laugh from a combo of his lack of filter and the sweet painting of red across his face. "Yes. And I'm not bad at it."
Seungcheol is seven rapidly sobering drinks in when he realises that one of his closest friends and not so secret object of his affection sings like an angel. You touch his bicep and show a hasty smile.
"I gotta go. But I'll be here for another hour and a half. Maybe see you then?" You chirp.
He nods dumbly, even as he is unsure if he and the boys will last that long. "S-sure."
response to @svtwritenight’s prompt 04: open the nearest book to page 52, find the 4th word in the 2nd sentence. write something with it.
book — fiesta: the sun also rises, ernest hemingway. word — twirl.
warnings: slight mention of alcohol consumption. word count: 463.
There’s something about the way Jun looks at you.
You can feel it, down to your bones, and you’re not sure if it’s a product of the wine you had with your dinner or the stars that shine like a mirror in his eyes, but it feels like home. Warm, and cozy, and familiar. It’s a warm summer night, and you’re completely sure that both the blush in your cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in your heart have nothing to do with it — because even when it’s cold outside, you always feel the same way deep within.
“It’s amazing how much your dancing has improved in this past year,” he says, voice so soft it breaks through the spell. You’re brought back to tonight and to the ever-present tradition of post-dinner dancing you’d stablished even before you had gotten married. And to Jun, as if your thoughts had even wandered off of him in the first place.
You look back at him, feeling one of his hands resting low on your waist and the other holding your own. You can feel the golden wedding band on his finger as it rests upon your skin, and can only think of the matching one adorning your hand. He smiles, and you don’t even try to fight back on the one that forms in your face as a response. There’d be no use for it, anyway, because with him, you’d always worn your heart in your sleeve.
“What, you’re saying I was a bad dancer before?” You ask, responding with a question of your own. A habit, and one he recognizes, for his smile widens upon your words. A sense of comfort. “And we’re hardly dancing. We’re swaying.”
He sways a little to the side, letting go of your waist just enough to give you a twirl. Your hair flutters with the breeze, and he holds onto you as soon as you come back into his arms. You draw in a breath, and try not to lose your balance as he kisses your forehead and continues to sway the both of you along to the music.
He lets out a quiet laugh. “Well, I guess now we’re dancing!”
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s Dream a Little Dream of Me plays softly from your record player, words and melody dancing organically alongside the soft cracking of the fire, the breathlessness in your laughter and the sound of your own footsteps. And, if you focus hard enough, even the sound of your own heartbeat. Even if there was no music playing, it was a sound you could dance to forever.
Tonight you have music, and you have him. It’s a warm summer night, after all, and with a sky full of stars shining over your heads, you keep on dancing.
svt writers! our next write “night” will be this weekend (07/03/2020-07/04/2020).
since the wider time frame for responses seemed to work better last time, here’s how the next write “night” will operate:
On Friday, July 3rd at 6AM EDT, 2 prompts will be posted on this account. An additional 2 prompts will be posted at 6PM, and then again on Saturday July 4th at 6AM and 6PM. So, “write night” will essentially be live for the course of those two days.
Over the course of the weekend, you can write responses to any of the prompts posted for the event. The event will be considered “live” until 6AM Sunday, July 5th. If you have plenty of free time this weekend, this might mean you’ll have a pair of prompts to choose from roughly twice a day. If you can only join for one day or a couple hours, you’ll still have at least a few prompts to choose from, if not a whole set. (Timezone converter - all times/dates here are in EDT.)
As always, I will be online periodically during the event to reblog any prompt responses back here. If you have questions or suggestions for prompts, feel free to send them in.
If you plan on participating, please go over the guidelines -- and remember most importantly to be ready to send feedback to fellow writers on their prompt responses!
@svtwritenight’s prompt 2: character A has unexpectedly run into character B. Write something that answers these questions: where are they, and why is it surprising to find B there?
characters: wonwoo x the vigilante
words: 465
Although the power outage lasts a mere few minutes, Wonwoo believes it to be good enough a reason to fire a few people; one person for every minute of his time wasted. Entering his office, Wonwoo tosses his blazer onto the leather couch. His bored expression, which the public has coined as his usual RBF (read resting-billionaire/bastard-face), is momentarily replaced with a quizzical one as he notices the unwelcome presence of another in the room. As if he needed another headache.
“What do you want?”
“No introductions?” a voice responds from behind Wonwoo’s desk.
“I assume you know who I am. Do I need to know who you are?”
The back of the leather office chair turns to reveal the intruder. Wonwoo’s eyes scan over the figure who has made themself comfortable in his office; stark platinum hair behind an unfamiliar, black mask. Either an eccentric robber or another wannabe hero, Wonwoo concludes.
“Maybe one day,”
The masked figure stands up from the office chair revealing their lithe frame clothed in black Lycra; a woman. She taps her fingers rhythmically along the mahogany surface of the desk as she makes her way towards him.
“But for now you should probably up the ante on security, considering how your building has a reputation for being impenetrable and all.”
She comes to a stop in front of him as she finishes her sentence. With only a few steps in between the two, Wonwoo notices the slight glint in her eyes as she cocks her head to the side. If he could be bothered he might have felt threatened, but right now she’s challenging him to something he does not have the time or patience for.
“Get out before I call-”
“Security? Haven’t I just proven to you that they’re useless?”
She rolls her eyes behind her mask. Wonwoo grits his teeth.
“Either way, I’m not staying for long.”
Darkness suddenly fills his office for the second time that day.
“And that’s my cue.”
Wonwoo counts. The power outage lasts for exactly one minute. Enough time, however, for the woman to escape as mysteriously as she appeared.
Wonwoo makes sure to cancel the lunch appointment he had planned with Minghao, spending the rest of the day meticulously viewing security camera footage, firing even more people, reluctantly permitting police to search through his office, and sending off a single strand of platinum hair for DNA testing. He receives the result the next week. His efforts, however, prove to be futile; the test concluding that the hair was synthetic, and no other evidence of the woman being discovered. Nothing was stolen and nothing was left behind.
Given any other circumstance, Wonwoo would have been livid. Now he thinks he has the time and patience to accept the masked vigilante’s challenge.
write about a simple good deed having wildly unexpected consequences.
@svtwritenight
for jihoon, every day was the same. he’d go to the coffee shop only a couple blocks away from his house. then he’d go back home, with his coffee in hand, and start working on his songs. everyday, his world was gray.
for some reason, today felt extremely off. more people were in the streets, but it was also relatively quieter than normal.
in front of jihoon’s regular coffee shop, a tall man and an extremely small girl were arguing. how was he supposed to avoid them? if he turned around, he would have to go to the other side of town to get to the right entrance to the coffee shop. as he got closer to the couple, he heard the girl plead to the man “just let me go! i don’t want you anymore, you’re terrible to me,”
the girl turned around, but the man grabbed her by the arm. jihoon could tell he was hurting her, as she twisted her arm to get out of his hold the skin would turn red and blotchy. all of a sudden, he was walking faster to help her.
jihoon pushed him by his chest. he guided to the girl to get behind him. “leave her alone, man. she doesn’t want you. just accept that.” jihoon spat. the man stared at him with a wild look on his face, then finally turned around and walked away. jihoon turned to the girl.
“i’m sorry for interfering-” jihoon looked her in the eyes. all of a sudden he could say the light color of the side walk, the baby blue shirt she was wearing, and the green of the plants behind her.
“you’re my soulmate,” she breathed. jihoon swallowed and nodded.
prompt 05 : write something that answers these questions: where does character A need to be in five minutes? why are they still at least twenty minutes away? how come they aren’t moving any faster?
@svtwritenight
It is a new beginning. You’ve been waiting a long time for a day like this. Working hard, every day, hoping someone will notice your efforts, and reward you for it. And it happened. Chief Yoon, the head of your service has encouraged you, pushed you, and helped you get that promotion. It is a pity, he told you more than once. If more people were like you, one can only dream of the miracles our great nation could achieve. Instead of moping around, people should strive for more. Be the change you want to see in the world! Well, you are the change he wants to see in this world. You keep it for yourself, but you can’t help thinking that, if indeed more people were like you – your job would then be useless.
He told you the news a few weeks ago. First day of Nation’s Month will be your first day in charge of Coordination. It means, you’ll have to organize all of his meetings, but also the healing plannings for all the department’s employees. This, he reminded you, is a most important task, for there is no room for approximation. Dilettantism caused the fall of the old regime, and it only takes a simple mistake for people to get funny ideas in their heads. You already know it. This is why you applied for the job in the first place – you’re very good at organization. It takes skill to ensure that neither employees nor patients meet. Everyone must think they are absolutely alone in the building. Even you, after all these years working on the premises, have only met six of your colleagues or superiors. This is what makes institutions strong: everything is neutral. This contributed to the disappearance of the feeling of persecution - that, and the treatments, of course. The most significant advantage, is that people naturally stopped sticking together, when they stopped seeing each other. Turned out, even after the orgy of communication displayed during the digital age, no one really wanted to keep in touch. Just another lie of the past, a urban legend. No one really cared, and now the treatments are ready, shortly, no one will. When the experience is unique, and so intimate. When we are unable to know if it is shared? No more solidarity, no more risings.
You are god’s instrument toward perfect harmony.
And yet, here you are, sitting on the toilet, trying to finish up your cigarette as fast as you can, instead of working. You shouldn’t be here. What a pitiful sight on the first day of work. Although now, you really are grateful for your position. No one will see if you’re in your office or not, no one will notice. The only information given to the security department are your movements within the building – and, well, you are the one in charged here now. No harm done. Still, you are quite ashamed of loosing your nerves on your first day in charge. This is the dream, and you won’t let anyone ruin it for you, not even yourself. You have a full review of the camera system to do in five minutes. This is an opportunity to show the little mice who monitor the surveillance cameras of the lower ranks what you are made of. You cannot let them think they have any room left. Overstepping your rank is a felony, but having the thought of it – which you can’t yet prove scientifically, but soon enough you will – is just as dangerous. Tossing the butt of your cigarette in the toilet bowl, you flush it, collect yourself – you’ve been a bit excited and overwhelmed, who wouldn’t in your place? Maybe you could find a moment to drop by the lab, ask for a little calming shot – surely they must have something in store for you.
As you open the door, you’re met with the barrel of an old shotgun.
«Hands in the air»
Shit.
There’s two of them, dressed in black, faces covered. One of them is holding chief Yoon’s head. Shit, shit, shit. You look at their feet instead, hands up.
«Sit down at your office, don’t you dare tryin’ anythin’, obviously.» He keeps aiming at you.
You do as you’re told, and the other – his attitude weirdly familiar, for some reason – sits across your desk.
«Well, well, well, my dear neighbor – shit, shit, oh shit – sorry to bother you, says Mingyu. I’m afraid we’re ruining your promotion, aren’t we.» You don’t have anything to answer. «Now, we’re asking you to delete all the data you have access to. And, well, when I say we ask...» He tilts his head toward his comrade, in case you’ve already forgotten the threat you’re under. «You know. Just fucking do it.»
