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.
🛑 HOLD UP
If this is your first time on 17hols please check out our About Page which has helpful information about dreamwidth and HTML. We are a prompting fest where all the action happens in the comment section.
Rules
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- Fills have a minimum of 400 words for prose, haiku-length for poetry (3 lines), and 400px by 400px for art (memes are also art). Other mediums are fine too!
- There is no maximum cap.
- Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest).
- NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged
- NSFW art should not be visible, please provide a link and a warning. You may crop the artwork and embed a SFW preview.
How it works
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;
- You must change the subject to [FILL] - this is to help the mods track. Feel free to add a title
- Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment, edit the sections, and add your text.
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;
- Change the subject to [REMIX].
Art/media
- Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.)
- Using the same HTML code as above, copy the link into your fill or remix. That's it!
- Optionally, you can embed a picture into your comment. Please use the following code instead.
(To explain, the HTML resizes your picture to 400x400px so that it fits on most screens. Users can view the full size if they click on it. You can also add a link to your work on twitter so that others can share it, or to any other website you want)
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don't you wonder about me?
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: love that isn't fully reciprocated or that is imbalanced in some way
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] . . . . . . . .
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: canonverse (early/debut days), ambiguous relationships, repression
Permission to remix: yes
***
In Junhui’s defense, his mouth was full of kimbap.
He thought it was an understandable excuse for inaccurate pronunciation while rehashing his and Minghao’s argument. Not to Wonwoo, apparently.
“Siot is a little breathy. Ssang siot is more tense.” Wonwoo demonstrated it. “Do you hear the difference?”
Junhui chewed. “Not really, no.”
“Listen.” Wonwoo enunciated a consonant, slow and careful. “Which one was that?”
“Erm.” Junhui swallowed his mouthful and slurped at his last of his drink to wash it down. The straw made a loud rattle in the empty cup, a sound Minghao would have scolded him for. He put his cup down. “Ssang siot?”
Wonwoo shook his head. “Siot.”
Junhui was a student of application. He was consistent, if not particularly studious, about his Korean lessons. The members were the most effective teachers anyway. Those lessons stuck. Textbook memorization? Not so much.
“Anyway,” said Junhui abruptly. “What do you think I should do now?”
“I can re-explain the difference in another way,” offered Wonwoo patiently, “or I can quiz you again?”
“You’re missing the point, Wonwoo,” said Junhui lightly. “I was saying words, not just consonants.”
“What?”
“My argument with Myungho — what should I do now?”
(“Wonwoo,” said Junhui, through a bite of mackerel. “I . . . . . . . .” He choked, fishbone caught in his throat.
Wonwoo thumped Junhui’s back. “What were you saying?”
“Fishbone,” spluttered Junhui, coughing. “I can still feel it.”
“Swallow it,” advised Wonwoo. “Eat another bite of rice. That’s what I do. It’ll push it further down your throat.”
“But I don’t want that,” Junhui said stubbornly, voice hoarse. His chest hurt. “I want it out.”
Wonwoo blinked. “I don’t know if I can help with that.”)
Wonwoo found Junhui in one of the company’s meeting rooms. Junhui was hunched over his unfinished Korean assignment, mouthing vocabulary words to himself.
“Oh, Wonwoo!” Junhui sat up straighter, his grin lazy. “Is it my turn to record? Were you looking for me?”
“I didn’t know you were here. They were being loud in the studio. And my head hurts.”
“I can be quiet,” promised Junhui.
Wonwoo gave him a little smile. “You don’t have to. Go back to what you were doing. Pretend I’m not here.”
Junhui laughed, half breath, half sound. “As if that were possible….” But he turned back to his assignment obediently.
The silence lasted a full ten seconds.
“Wonwoo. Are you busy?”
“Hm?”
“The members always say you’re good at Korean.” Junhui dipped his voice to a comically low tone. “Teacher Jeon Wonwoo, please save me…”
“What do you need to learn?”
“Well, we’re working on relationship terms right now. Chapter seven. For example, you are my-” Junhui sounded it out: “Co-work-er.”
“Is that all I am to you?” teased Wonwoo.
“No, you’re-” Junhui switched to Mandarin for the words he couldn’t yet express. “You’re my . . . . . . . . too.”
“What does that mean?”
Junhui averted his gaze. “Hmm. We haven’t gotten that far in the lesson yet.”
“Try to tell me.”
Junhui paused. “I don’t know how to explain it in a way you would understand.” He looked down at the open Korean workbook. “So did I say it right? Co-work-er?”
“Yes, you’re my coworker. But you’re also my roommate.” Wonwoo enunciated each word, slow and careful. “You’re my member.” Wonwoo looked away. “You’re my . . . . . . . . and my friend.”
“What did you say?”
“Friend?”
“No, no, I know. Soonyoung taught me that one. Friend,” repeated Junhui impatiently. “What did you say before that?”
“Coworker, roommate, member, friend?”
“There was something else.” Junhui scanned the Korean workbook futilely. “Never mind. Maybe I misheard. Guess I still need more Korean lessons…”
Wonwoo hummed noncommittally.
When Junhui was alone again, he pulled out his speech-to-text app, fumbling at mimicked pronunciation. It took eight tries before his phone recognized his utterance and spit out something close to intelligible. Even then, he wasn’t sure if he got it right.
Did you mean: 짝사랑?
Junhui copied the text. Pasted it. Pressed translate.
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and on the other hand the jun choking out the fishbone vs wonwoo swallowing it metaphor... i enjoyed this so much thank you for filling!! :D
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thank you so much for reading & taking the time to let me know what you thought!! ♡♡
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also the part where junhui only pretends for 10 seconds that wonwoo's not there, “Teacher Jeon Wonwoo, please save me…” - your junhui is so endearing TT___TT ♡ and the ending - so clever that us readers are left to follow junhui's same motions to figure out what wonwoo (potentially) confessed!! really enjoyed this, thank you for writing such a lovely wonhui ♡
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wjh impulse control ;___; he lasted for 10 whole seconds haha. thank you so much for such a thoughtful & kind reading of my fic!! ♡♡
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