Status: Open
Prompting is currently open. Prompting is open from 28 December 2024 to 19 January 2025.
About
"the poem begins not where the knife enters, but where the blade twists"
"beauty is terror"
"you'll just have to taste me, when he's kissing you"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy a hit tweet.
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Prompting
- Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post;
- Change the subject;
- Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want!
Need ideas? Check out our 2021 and 2022 Quote rounds.
Filling
- Reply to the original prompt;
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You may also upload your fill to the AO3 Collection.
Remixing
- Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above;
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Art/media
- Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.)
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the persistence of everything
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: when loving your passion can't stop you from wishing you could walk away from it
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
-summertime by Noor Hindi
[FILL] it goes on
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Canon Divergent
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Seungcheol can count the number of times he's seen Jeonghan cry on one hand. Seungcheol’s a sympathy crier, so it sets him off, too, which makes Jeonghan feel worse.
“You're the eldest,” he sniffs, accusatory, head resting on Seungcheol’s tear-stained shoulder. Never mind how the tears got there, only that Seungcheol’s own joins Jeonghan’s on the cotton. “You're supposed to hold your head high. Be a man.”
He doesn’t let the words stand longer than they need to. Jeonghan reaches for his hand under the table and squeezes.
The truth is that he's relieved for the end, and feels guilty about wishing for it, wanting it. About how standing on stage with thousands of eyes on him made him feel microscopic and his legs had felt like gelatin after tour. The scrutiny. The orange bottle on his nightstand and the scraping and scrounging and fighting and praying and begging.
When five members announce that they won't be re-signing with the company, Seungcheol gets visions of the life he could go back to. His education is a few semesters shy of a degree. Most of his debt has been paid. His parents have bought a home further out of the city, where the sky is bigger. His grandmother is still mobile and there's only so much time left for her to borrow.
“We’ll stay together even when we're apart?” Seokmin asks, after they toast to an uncertain future. His eyes are on Seungcheol, like he's asking for forgiveness for clinging on. Every person in this room, it was their youth, too. Both Seokmin and Mingyu had re-signed early on. Soonyoung and Seungkwan, as well, both givens.
If Carats can't have Seventeen, they could at least have BooSeokSoon, right?
“Of course,” Seungcheol says, spinning an empty bottle on the table. He watches the red lid point in different directions. He catches Seokmin’s unwavering gaze on the way back up. “We’ll always be a family.”
In the end, what’s left of Seventeen disperses. The members who’d left and the members who’d stayed, their lives would always be woven together. Seungcheol sends housewarming gifts and carefully selects things on baby registries. He’s waved to enough phone screens and cried at enough weddings and stage plays and award shows over the years that rush by him in a blur.
He gets an email from the company about their upcoming ten-year anniversary, and feels the kind of ache that he’d come to associate with hearing a guide track from Jihoon. And, always on time, an old recording of an unreleased song shows up in the quieted Seventeen group chat.
His notifications explode.
uji-ya can you get us studio time??
wah.. do u think carats would be interested
seokminnie can u sing this at my noona’s wedding
i thought i was going to be singing at your noona’s wedding!! u punk
Seungcheol moved home, after, back with his parents. Still single, still wearing a team ring on his finger. A girlfriend and a boyfriend each had come and gone, but he hadn’t felt anchored to them enough to stop wearing them. The members had agreed on one more before they’d formally disbanded, and Seungcheol keeps his close.
The sky looks a little less endless with possibility, and more like a sky. But even an empty sky can be a beautiful thing.
Every so often, the jobs come calling. Hosting, acting, guest judging. Seungcheol still likes to travel, but he marvels at the sights he gets to see when the work stays close to home. The fans still stop him in the street, but less and less now.
It’s a quiet life that he loves.
He’s the softest that he’s been since debuting, a fact that he laments when Jeonghan comes to poke and prod at him in between filming. He’s doing a show with Jaejoong—”top secret news, Cheolie, you know how it is”—and trekking back and forth from Europe, Japan, and Seoul.
“It suits you,” Jeonghan says, insistent enough that Seungcheol knows he’s being honest. “You look like you’ve been sleeping better, too.”
Jeonghan’s hair is longer now, almost as long as it was at debut. An ash blond that compliments his coloring. The last time Seungcheol had seen Jeonghan in person for longer than a handful of hours was when they’d received their diplomas, nearly three years ago.
“Besides,” he says, knocking their shoulders together. “We’re both out of practice, Coups-yah.”
Jeonghan tucks his bangs behind his ears, and they immediately float back forward to frame his face. He’s in casual hanbok, some set that Seungcheol had gifted him after his military service. His Seventeen ring glints from a necklace around his neck.
“Me more than you,” Seungcheol laments. Somehow, his mother had managed to get them to dance for her. Seungcheol knows he will remember the choreography for “Aju Nice” until he dies. The muscles remember the moves, but he’d forgotten how hard it is to move his body that way.
His downstairs neighbors probably despise him right now.
Jeonghan laughs, a hand touching the small of his back. Seungcheol goes still at the contact. He always makes it look so easy, but it’s always been like this. Careful, hidden. Back then, it was a weight but now, it’s a thrilling development. A sparkling silver lining on the clear horizon.
“Haven’t you missed me?” he asks, pointed, taking a step closer. Of course Seungcheol has missed him. Missed being this close. After all, Seungcheol is no longer in charge. Not that Jeonghan has ever relinquished control.
Seungcheol touches the pad of his thumb to the ring on his pinky. “Of course I do.”
Re: [FILL] it goes on