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sportsfest2018-06-16 12:14 am
Bonus Round 1: Time and Place
Bonus Round 1: Time & Place
Who, when, and where? Send your favorite sports animanga characters to any time and place you want—but the filler decides what they do there.
This bonus round will close on June 29th, 2018 at 11:59PM PT. (Countdown Timer)
This Round is CLOSED, but is perpetually open to new Fills.
Rules
Submit prompts by commenting to this post with a time and place, along with any character/ship/group/etc. from one of our nominated fandoms. Your prompt can include characters from any animanga title regardless of your team affiliation.
- Please format your prompt like so:
TIME: [Time]
PLACE: [Place] - The place can be any real or fictional location.
- The time can be as specific or vague as you want.
- Your prompt MUST include one or more specific nominated fandoms. Please do not prompt “Fandom: Any”.
- If your prompt includes a relationship, make sure to use the proper notation. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Natsuo & Yuzuko). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Natsuo/Yuzuko). Feel free to add additional clarifications as needed.
Here are a few examples to get your creative juices flowing:
TIME: Victorian Era
PLACE: The catacombs of London
TIME: Monday morning
PLACE: The coffee shop down the street
TIME: The last pitch
PLACE: Koshien
TIME: June 16th, 2018 at 4:20 PM
PLACE: 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney
Fill prompts by replying to the prompt with your time and place-inspired fanwork.
Please make sure to adhere to the specific prompt/fill formats!!! Otherwise, the BR scorer may miss your fill. If you make a mistake, please edit your post, or delete and repost if editing has been disabled.
If Prompting
Please use the following subject line for prompt:
Prompt: [Your Team]
Replace [Your Team] with the name of the team you belong to. Nickname or Official Name are both acceptable
Copy/Paste the following into the body of your comment. Delete all instructional text in parentheses.
NSFW Prompts
EXPLICITLY NSFW PROMPTS must be posted to the After-Hours comm. To join, click here.
After joining, you will be able to access the AfterHours BR1 post.
“Explicitly NSFW” means that the prompt includes outright sexual content (whether in a photograph, drawing, or in words), and prompts that in the additional requests are asking for explicit fills. Prompts are posted with the same HTML format, in the same manner as a SFW prompt, just under the designated post for that Bonus Round in the After-Hours comm. See ‘Filling’ for the procedures for NSFW Fills.
If Filling
Minimums
Required Work Minimums:
400 words (prose)
400px by 400px (art)
14 lines (poetry)
There is no max work cap.
Format
FILL: [Your Team], [Rating]
- Replace [Your Team] with the name of the team you belong to. Nickname or Official Name are both acceptable
- Replace [Rating] with the rating of your fill (G-E).
- Find a guide to tagging HERE.
- Copy/Paste the following into the body of your comment. Delete all instructional text in parentheses.
NSFW Fills
All NSFW fills MUST be posted in the corresponding Bonus Round post in the After Hours community. To join, click here.
After joining, you will be able to access the AfterHours BR1 post.
If filling a prompt that has been posted on the after-hours comm, simply reply to that prompt. If filling a SFW prompt, let the prompter know by replying to the original prompt on the main comm with a link to your fill on the corresponding after-hours Bonus Round Post. Please DO NOT use the Fill subject line or Fill header when cross-linking. This will cause the BR scorer to count your fill twice.
Scoring
The scoring for bonus rounds depends on the number of people (n) on your team. You’re welcome to make as many prompts and fills as you like!
For prompts: 5 points per prompt, limited to 5 times the number of team members (5n)
For fills, where (n) = number of members on you team:
- First 5n fills: 20 points each
- Fills 5n to 10n: 10 points each
- Fills 10n to 15n: 5 points each
- All fills after 15n: 2 points each
All scored content must be created new for this round.
Additional Information
If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only (see the line of links below this post). We’ll also have a prompt/fill database up and running soon that will help you filter through BR posts.
A Tip: We all want SportsFest to be a fun and safe environment. If you notice someone has made a mistake in their required tagging, or any other html or rules related aspect of their comment, do let them know, message them privately rather than replying - if you reply, they can’t edit the comment! If you aren’t comfortable letting the commenter know directly, contact a mod and we will make sure they update the required tags.
If you have any questions, feel free to contact a mod.
PROMPT: Team Grandstand
Fandom: Kuroko's Basketball
Major Tags: None
Additional Tags: None
Do Not Wants: N/A
Prompt:
TIME: After Graduation
PLACE: A random photoshoot that Kasamatsu runs into
FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: attempts at flirting, way too many italics, Kasa is such a tsundere
Word Count: 2,927
Remix Permission: This one is fair game!
A/N: I love these two so much, which is the main reason this got so out of hand. ^^; Thank you so much for this opportunity to write for them!!
***
Kasamatsu always takes the longer way home because it goes past the park.
He’s tried for several months now to convince himself that this isn’t the reason: the exercise is good for him after sitting at a desk or pacing at the front of a lecture hall all day, the route also takes him past the conbini with the best discount bentos, the train is too crowded at the end of a long day. Plenty of other reasons besides the tidy little park dropped in among the urban sprawl.
The park...has a basketball court.
It’s one of those minimal concrete ones, set up like an afterthought at the edge of the park’s boundaries, and it always seems so tiny to him even though technically it is a full-court. It’s true that concrete just doesn’t echo like parquet, and there’s no dome of a ceiling above to magnify the squeal of rubber soles and the rhythmic heartbeat of a dribbled ball.
Not that he spends much time thinking about it.
There’s not that many kids in this neighborhood, so even on days like today when Kasamatsu manages to finish grading papers early and head home mid-afternoon, the court is more likely to be empty than occupied. Sometimes he’ll walk a little slower (to give his feet a rest) if there’s a pickup game going on, listening to the scuffle and shout of voices tearing up and down that concrete rectangle.
But today, as Kasamatsu approaches the low brick wall and stand of trees that mark the park’s border, he doesn’t hear either deserted silence or the good-natured shouts and curses of teenagers. He hears...well, it sounds like a full on mob.
There’s a whole horde of people crammed in around the court, it looks like, and his first thought is that there’s a fight going on and he’s going to have to try to remember where the nearest police box is. But the majority of the voices making up the clamor sound distinctly female, and as he gets closer it’s clear the crowd’s energy is all wrong for a fight.
Then he sees the camera equipment and it all clicks. So they’re filming here for something, then--a drama or a documentary, or maybe a music video.
In spite of himself, Kasamatsu can’t help lifting up onto the balls of his feet a little as he skirts the park, trying to catch a glimpse through the gaps between shoulders and arms. He’s not quite as sensitive about his height now that he doesn’t spend his days shouting up at ridiculously tall people, but in times like these it was still mildly irritating to have to crane his neck to see over a crowd--it’s kind of ruining the apathetic passerby persona he’d been trying to cultivate. Aside from the crowd itself, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of movement going on on the court, although if it’s a quieter TV drama scene…
And then it’s like a tunnel briefly opens up, a line of sight for his eyes only, and he sees a flash of bright blue and the sun catching on blond hair, gold hair--
Kasamatsu can’t breathe, for a moment, like something has simultaneously kicked him in the chest and dragged him backwards in time by the scruff of the neck. They’re just colors, just two colors, but for a moment he’s back inside a gym, and the afternoon sun is the floodlights and the concrete is parquet and all around him is blue. Blue...and that one spot of gold.
His fingertips itch with the memory, the imperative, of passing the ball.
He starts walking again, needing to get past the park before anyone sees him over here having some kind of--episode--over a stupid sense memory from years ago. Over some blond foreign actor in a blue shirt who’s probably just filming for a TV episode.
But before the court is out of sight, before the crowd’s murmur fades away, Kasamatsu can’t stop himself from looking back one more time. Just...to check.
The angle is different, from further down the sidewalk, and he can see much better now. He can see the spidery black camera stands, the backdrops hung on steel skeletons. A woman with such a bright dyed pink streak in her hair that he can see it all the way from over here, pointing at various things with authority.
And he can see it’s not a blond foreigner filming for TV.
He doesn’t think it’s possible that Kise has gotten taller, so he’s forced to chalk the fact that it takes him by surprise all over again up to the four years since the last time they saw each other. He still moves the same way, with the obvious excitement and energy in his limbs tamed down into competent grace.
And he’s wearing what Kasamatsu is pretty sure is a blue basketball jersey, and it makes him dig his nails so hard into his palms that they sting.
He’s too far away for more details than that, too far away for Kasamatsu to be anything other than certain of who he’s looking at.
Far enough away to keep walking, if he wanted.
His feet are already carrying him back before he can consciously make that decision. So much for being an apathetic passerby.
It’s so dangerous to join the fringes of the crowd, so dangerous to be this close. He’s practically asking to be seen, to be recognized. On one level Kasamatsu knows this, and on the other he sort of feels like giving the finger to fate right now. You made me go home this way today. You put him here, in this park. You made me see him.
Now finish what you started, you bastard.
There are still a few people crowded around, but at some point it looks like the woman with the dyed hair had managed to disperse them somewhat, so Kasamatsu doesn’t need to crane his neck quite as much to see over the crowd’s shoulders.
For a moment, Kasamatsu’s stomach feels hollow at the realization that Kise is not actually wearing a Kaijou jersey, and then he feels like giving himself one of his own patented kicks for thinking something so ridiculous. Kise probably hadn’t even kept his high school jersey, and if he had, he certainly wouldn’t be allowed to bring it out to wear for a photoshoot.
He’s holding a basketball in the crook of one arm, the fingers of that hand idly brushing the fabric of the basketball shorts settled low on his hips. His other hand keeps changing position between shots: now resting at his waist, now outstretched like he was motioning to a teammate, now raking through his gold hair (Kasamatsu had to find somewhere else to rest his gaze during that shot). There’s something half-artistic, half-athletic about how easily Kise shifts between stances like they were basketball drills. It’s actually disgustingly unfair, in Kasamatsu’s opinion.
Then Kise changes angles, and in doing so turns to face the crowd more (to the squealed glee of the remaining onlookers). It also means that Kasamatsu is now directly in his line of sight.
There’s a beat between the moment their gazes lock and the moment recognition hits, and then the lazy, cocky model smirk drops off Kise’s face just as the stuttering click of the cameras go off for the next shot.
He looks so young like that, wide-eyed and startled, like he used to look when Kasamatsu had just snagged the ball out of his hands when he wasn’t paying attention during practice.
Kasamatsu watches Kise’s lips silently form the word ‘senpai?’ and oh. Oh, that’s--
Shit.
“Kise! What the hell kind of face was that?” cries the pink-streak woman impatiently, snapping her fingers at the cameramen to reset the shot. “Focus, the light’s starting to change and we’re not going to be able to make this deadline if we don’t wrap today!”
Kise pulls himself back together with such clearly visible effort that it makes Kasamatsu’s chest feel tight and warm. His left hand settles back on his hip, near the waistband of the loose basketball shorts, his other one going to his shoulder like he’s casually rubbing a kink out of his neck, loose and languid. He puts the model face back on, but Kasamatsu swears Kise’s eyes dart back to his once more before they refocus on the camera.
They keep going with the shoot from there, and after every shot, every pose change, Kasamatsu swears he’ll leave after the next one.
And then suddenly it’s over and he’s still standing there, as the camera crew starts breaking down the equipment and backdrops. And the pink-streak woman (his manager?) is talking to Kise now, but he just keeps glancing over her head at Kasamatsu like he’s making sure Kasamatsu is still there, probably not listening to a word.
Kasamatsu swallows hard. He could still leave, now, while they haven’t yet spoken--he hasn’t yet passed the point of no return. But he is wearing his nice dress clothes today; it would look kind of strange for a man in a suit jacket and slacks to go tearing out of the park at this point.
And Kise’s edging past his manager now, nodding rapidly to whatever she’s saying even as he’s jogging straight across the court toward Kasamatsu. It really does seem small now, with the way Kise’s stupidly long strides eat up that distance in seconds, and he’s not even fooling himself anymore, not really.
He’d passed the point of no return a long time ago, maybe even years before today.
CONTINUED
Re: FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G [CONTINUED]
“Kise, shut up.” The words come out like it hasn’t been four years since he’s said them, and Kise obeys like it hasn’t been four years either. And that’s--he won’t think too hard about it right now. There’s a lot he’s trying not to think too hard about right now, forcing himself to meet Kise’s glowing gold eyes. Seeing (and dealing with) him every day for over a year in high school had blunted Kasamatsu’s susceptibility to his, his light, but apparently that was something that wore off.
“I was at Todai, but I got a job as a student instructor at the university here, so I moved. What are you doing here?”
Kise’s anxious fingers come up to pinch the mesh jersey between his thumb and forefinger. “I was at the agency branch out here to do some jewelry promotions, and this new sportswear thing came up kinda last minute. They were going for a ‘natural outdoor setting’ for the backdrop, I think they said? So they brought me out here.”
What are the goddamn odds? Kasamatsu thinks, mentally flipping fate off again (although maybe with a bit less vitriol this time). Aloud, he says, “So they’ve still got you doing the sports stuff sometimes, huh? I guess the Miracle thing still holds weight, even now.”
Kise shrugs, looking a little embarrassed, which makes Kasamatsu’s chest hot again. The Kise he’d first met would never have even thought to be embarrassed at the idea of being exalted as one of the Generation of Miracles. “I don’t mind. I kind of like it, actually. It...it brings back some nice memories.”
Kasamatsu thinks of his own storm of recently disturbed memories, the way seeing Kise had brought them surging up again: a rock thrown into a still pond.
“They...they let me pick, actually,” Kise says, and his voice is almost shy, suddenly. “The new line comes in a bunch of colors, so they let me pick which one I wanted to wear for this shoot! That almost never happens, so I, um, took them up on it.” He’s not quite meeting Kasamatsu’s eyes, which is actually awesome because Kasamatsu just knows that at least his neck and ears must be red by now, if not his face too; he can feel it. Kise looks down at himself, tugging at the collar of the jersey so that Kasamatsu can see the cut line of his collarbone and the top of his chest. “I thought this blue was pretty close to...y’know, ours.” The word in Kise’s mouth is so full of pride, and it rings in Kasamatsu’s bones, sending an almost painful wave of--of--something swelling against the inside of his ribs.
“It still looks good on you. The blue,” says Kasamatsu’s mouth with no rational input from his brain what the hell. It’s not a lie, it’s just not something he would ever actually say to Kise’s face. Except he just did. And he hasn’t seen Kise’s face in four years and he’s missed it—
“Senpai?” Kise’s eyes are wide again, wide and sort of...hopeful. God, shit, he was never able to handle hopeful Kise—Kise whose stupid, Miracle confidence could bring their whole team running in its wake—and apparently that’s not starting now.
“I’m not your senpai anymore,” Kasamatsu snaps quickly, in hopes of changing the subject and keeping his mouth from betraying him again. And because he hopes the harsh tone will disguise the rasp in his voice.
“Maybe not at school.” Kise doesn’t seem hurt by the rebuff the way Kasamatsu expected. “But you’re still older than me, senpai, and you have a real university job! I always knew you were smart, but you look so professional like this, it’s kinda…” Kise trails off, and his hand goes up to the back of his neck, like the pose from earlier, only he’s not in front of a camera now.
Kasamatsu isn’t sure what to say--he both wants and desperately does not want Kise to finish that sentence. It’s similar to the way he can’t decide whether he loves or hates Kise’s manager when she shouts suddenly, “Kise, we need to head back to the office for that wrap-up meeting! Flirt on your own time!”
Kise’s eyebrows draw together and he, at least, looks distinctly disappointed at this development. He also, Kasamatsu notices, doesn’t deny the accusation of flirting. He shifts from foot to foot for a moment, biting his lip, and then blurts, “Senpai, they’re doing another shooting here next week. Please come.”
“I--I might be busy.” Kasamatsu silently curses himself for the instinctive dodge; as if he hadn’t already been planning to start taking this route on the way to and from work from now on.
Suddenly Kise’s eyes absolutely light up, and this time he really does take Kasamatsu by the shoulders. “That’s it! The shoot next week--it’s supposed to be a dynamic one, with action shots! And they were looking for someone else to look like they’re playing against me.” Kise’s voice has that breathless quality to it, like it used to when he’d relived aloud the plays he’d made in the locker room after a game. Like he was back on the court, seeing it play out. “I’ll tell them you used to really play basketball with me, and you’ll know how to get it to look realistic! We could even play a one-on-one and let them use footage of that.” Kise’s big hands are warm and tight on his shoulders, wrinkling his suit jacket a little.
“That’s ridiculous, I’m not--do I look like a model to you, idiot?” Kasamatsu can’t even imagine how plain he’d look contrasted next to Kise on the glossy pages of a magazine. Small and coarse and clumsy. “There’s a reason you’re in this business and I’m not, you know.”
“It’s for a sports magazine, senpai, you don’t need to be pretty,” says Kise dismissively, and Kasamatsu feels a sudden and overwhelming impulse to kick him in the shins, even though he’s wearing nice leather dress shoes. Then Kise’s eyes dart back to his, before skimming slow and lingering down the length of his body, so deliberate he has to try hard not to let himself shudder at it.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re some people’s type, senpai,” Kise says, and when he grins it’s an unholy combination of shy and wicked, and Kasamatsu knows he’s lost the battle, and probably also the war.
“Kise,” his manager shouts, clearly out of patience.
“See you next week?” At least Kise has the decency to still make it a question.
“You--you’re an idiot,” Kasamatsu growls, pressing a hand over his (hot, probably bright red) face. It’s not really an answer, but sometimes you just had to go with the tried-and-true standbys.
Faster than he can react, Kise reaches out and pulls his hand down from his face. The kiss is there and gone in a second, pressed fierce and fast to the corner of his mouth. And then Kise is jogging back across that tiny concrete court, waving exuberantly over his shoulder. Like an idiot.
“I’ll make sure they save you a blue jersey, senpai!”
That absolute brat.
Kasamatsu presses his thumb to the edge of his lip. He’s going to have to hit the gym one afternoon this week, now...just to make sure he’s still sharp.
The future looks blue and gold, and bright.
Re: FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G [CONTINUED]
Re: FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G [CONTINUED]
Sometimes I forget how much I love KiKasa, and it was like this fill brought all those feelings out again. The description of the park basketball court is wonderful in all of it's minute details, and (burgeoning) Professor!Kasamatsu is so, so good! I also love how the fill navigates between genuine sincerity and humour. (I'm still giggling over, "...it’s kind of ruining the apathetic passerby persona he’d been trying to cultivate.")
The description in this fic is just so visceral. It instantly transports you to a time and place (BR theme reference not-intended, but very apt). I especially love, "They’re just colors, just two colors, but for a moment he’s back inside a gym, and the afternoon sun is the floodlights and the concrete is parquet and all around him is blue. Blue...and that one spot of gold."
The moment where their eyes meet and the reader can feel the history and the time that's passed is just... breathtaking. Kasamatsu's train of thought is also just wonderfully characterized. (Also, I don't think you could have picked a better spot to split the two sections.)
One of my favorite parts of this fic is how you characterize Kasamatsu and Kise (and their relationship). You give a lot of weight to how they've changed in the years that have passed, but also how the relationship between the two of them is still remarkably the same. That even though they're Kise and Kasamatsu now, there's still some dregs of KiseandKasamatsu in them. (Also, the line " The word in Kise’s mouth is so full of pride, and it rings in Kasamatsu’s bones, sending an almost painful wave of--of--something swelling against the inside of his ribs" was such a punch of feeling to the gut).
This was just a wonderful take on the prompt! Thanks you so, so much for filling my prompt and bringing it to life!!
Re: FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G [CONTINUED]
I'm so glad you enjoyed it though; there are plenty of ships in KnB with more history and 'intensity' and whatnot, but Kikasa has a very special place in my heart for just feeling like it'd make both of these dorks happy. They're such different people, but in a 'they balance each other out and are good for each other' way. This is the first time I've ever written them and I had an absolute blast doing it, so thank you for the fun and just-vague-enough prompt and the opportunity!!