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sportsfest2018-07-01 12:02 am
Bonus Round 2: Quotes
Bonus Round 2: Quotes
Sometimes you just have to keep with tradition! Keeping with the SASO roots that SportsFest was born from, Bonus Round 2 is all about quotes.
This bonus round will close on July 13th, 2018 11:59PM PT. [COUNTDOWN]
This Round is CLOSED, but is perpetually open for new FILLS.
Rules
The Rule of Thumb for this round is prominence - did a published author or poet write this line you’d like to quote? Great. Is it from a speech or a historical document? Cool. Did your friend say something funny on twitter the other day? Not so much.
Please DO NOT prompt screenshots of private conversations, Discord convos, or conversations between you and your friends. This can easily and unintentionally bring the prompts into inside joke territory, and can create an exclusionary environment.
Quotes from other SportsFest participants (or yourself) are NOT allowed in this round (for similar reasons to above, and the fact that you could just make anything a quote).
Please give credit to the original speaker of your quote whenever possible.
If prompting with a screenshot, it is polite to post a transcription of the text below the image for accessibility.
Please use your best judgement, and if you’re unsure if something qualifies - ask! The mods are here to help.
And to reiterate, Your prompt MUST include one or more specific nominated fandoms. Please do not prompt "Fandom: Any".
A Few Examples:
“Today is far from Childhood -
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter -
Which shortened all the miles-
- Emily Dickinson, ‘One Sister Have I In Our House’
“Til this moment I never knew myself”
- Elizabeth Bennett, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice
“SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE!
- Damian, Mean Girls
“It's a quarter past midnight
As we cut through the city”
- Quarter Past Midnight, Bastille
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. “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.
Once you have joined the Afterhours community, you can find the corresponding post HERE.
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).
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. 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.
Once you have joined the Afterhours community, you can find the corresponding post HERE.
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
Confused? Don’t worry; math is hard. Check out the Bonus Round Point Widget to help you figure out the point scale for your team.
All scored content must be created new for this round.
FILL, Team Grandstand, G
Fandom: haikyuu!!
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: future fic
Word Count: 1630
Remix Permission: sure!
dying over this song choice for these two, thank you,,
***
Funnily enough, nighttime is a good look on Tsukishima. His hair's grown out further since the last time Kuroo saw him, almost covering his ears and sweeping down over the edges of his glasses, and the volume of it in the light from every open storefront they pass has Kuroo wanting to reach out and---
"Are you kidding me." Tsukishima looks at him through the very side of his eye, like rotating his neck that tiny extra bit is beyond his baseline of courtesy. "Don't ruffle my hair."
Kuroo removes his hand, slower than he strictly needs to, stretching his own neck a little to assess Tsukishima's expression. Probably not truly annoyed, though Kuroo will be the first to admit he does, on occasion, still assess wrong. He shows a smile, fingers brushing Tsukishima's shoulder on their way to dig back into his jacket pockets. "Was there an in the middle of the street with that request, or was it à la carte?"
Tsukishima snorts, answering Kuroo's first, unasked question. "I said exactly what I wanted. Not that you take orders." He extracts a gloved hand from his ridiculous coat as their steps slow for the corner, layers of stuffed fabric swishing as he presses the pedestrian crossing button -- two seconds hold, then back off, like always.
"Some things can't change," Kuroo says, grinning forward at the passing cars. "Where would I be if I let people lead me off the menu?"
"Just where you are now, I imagine."
There's a smirk in his voice; Kuroo tries to turn his head at a normal speed as he goes to catch it. "I," he says, setting his shoulders back, "believe I take offense." Nothing to be said for the delight he can hear in his own voice. Maybe it's a character flaw, he thinks, but somewhere, someway, he does enjoy being talked back to.
And doesn't Tsukishima know it. "Any such concern for me," he says, stepping out with a methodical glance around as the lights change, "who has to suffer your offense when you take it?"
Kuroo matches him stride for stride across the wide, painted lines like it's a game. "Concern?" he says. "Of course. But not for that." Because this is no game, and if he doesn't want to follow, neither does he want to lead.
They walk a few more blocks in quiet, noise enough for a city reaching their chilled ears from all directions. Kuroo tries not to linger over all the things he would do or say -- the things he has done, and has said -- to catch that unassuming light in Tsukishima's face when he's placing down an upper hand. He manages to cut himself off when Tsukishima lands a brief touch to his elbow.
"Do you mind if we stop in here?"
It's a bakery, and the near-empty illuminated display baskets might reflect across Tsukishima's glasses but Kuroo can see the soft, small hope in his eyes, and of course, of course he doesn't mind. He tilts his head, corners of his mouth twitching upward, and gestures them both in.
"Shut up," Tsukishima mumbles as he pulls open the door. Warm light slips around him from inside. Kuroo, head still tilted, still laughing to himself, finds instead the way Tsukishima's shoulders rise and close toward his ears and can only think, That isn't what I wanted to say.
Tsukishima asks for a piece of shortcake to go. Kuroo squats next to the counter, peering in at the single servings of pastry resting on their thin, crimped papers. There aren't many left on display now, as the round clock on the wall ticks toward closing time, but the varieties there are still bright and pristine: one ribboned with chocolate, another sprinkled with coconut, still more shaped by molds and brushed with butter until they glisten. There's even some sort of cake topped with an orange icing cat with a tiny purple icing fish in its tiny piping mouth.
"330 for that one," comes Tsukishima's voice over his shoulder, quiet, and Kuroo blinks. Next to him, Tsukishima lifts an eyebrow. "You looked like you were considering it," he says, before turning back toward the small, packed-up box in his hands.
Kuroo exhales a laugh, for want of a verbal reaction to being assessed in turn. "Are you offering?" he asks, playing up his tone, though he keeps his voice low while they're still inside.
Tsukishima only shrugs. "If you're asking."
Well. "Nah," Kuroo says, pushing smoothly to his feet. "I was just admiring the confectionery work." With this, he smiles toward the employee waiting on the other side of the counter, and thanks them as he pushes open the door to the street, holding it for Tsukishima behind him.
The train station is a few blocks away. There are just as many cars on the roads as there were all evening, and probably were all day, too, and after a short while gazing out at the controlled rush, every streak of reflected neon begins to look the same.
Some things can't change.
Kuroo lets his footsteps stride a little shorter, a little quicker. Part of him finds amusement in the way he and Tsukishima are still walking at the same pace. "Hey," he says, a thought from earlier occurring to him again. "Why didn't you want to stay at the bakery, eat your shortcake before it got cold?"
There's a pause as Tsukishima shifts, coat sleeves rustling as he switches hands on his carrying box, and pockets the one left empty. "I didn't want to impose," he says evenly, facing straight ahead.
"What," says Kuroo, lost. "You? I'm the one visiting, aren't I?"
"Earlier," Tsukishima says, "when I asked if you minded, going in for a bit. It seemed like you were humoring me." He turns his head, and his neck, quick as a read. "I appreciate it, of course. But all the same."
Kuroo stares, gears spinning in his head, rattling and crashing around the edges. They sound a lot like oh and no and dammit before he gets a handle on their uneven bits and slows them down. "Tsukki," he says, trying to soften his regular grin into something at least less sarcastic. "Next time, you could ask me." Next time, I could tell you.
A pause as Tsukishima looks at him, hair falling over his ears, as they near the yellow glow of the station platform. Kuroo shows his teeth, raises his eyebrows. Tsukishima sighs. It's next time.
"I wouldn't have minded," Kuroo says, too earnest, but he can't find the dial to turn it back. "I'm here for you, anyway. You know, whatever you want to do with that time."
They come to a stop beside one of the posts on the platform. Tsukishima holds his box from the bakery ten blocks from his current home.
He seems like he doesn't know what more to say; to this, Kuroo can relate. But then he straightens up, shoulders steady in the way where Kuroo didn't realize he wasn't already standing at his fullest height, and there is something that is not a smirk in the tilt of his mouth.
"The sciences department at school is holding an exhibit soon," he says. "Open to the public on Saturday afternoons, if you're interested. For next time."
Kuroo's insides might be floating. The bright fluorescent bars lined up above them have nothing on the stare-and-you-miss-it openness in Tsukishima's face, when he takes his metaphorical empty hand and holds it out, asking without asking for Kuroo to meet him halfway. "Oh, I'm interested," he says. It's the whole truth, in half the meaning.
Naturally, Tsukishima notices, and though Kuroo wasn't staring, part of his expression quietly closes. But here he stays while Kuroo waits for his train, like he feels it, too -- that this back-and-forth of theirs is no play to win, and no game to lose.
When the time comes, the breeze lifts around them, carrying faint clatter and an imagined scent of speed. Kuroo steps into the space between them, reaching; Tsukishima glances toward him.
"Are you kidding---" he starts, but the offense dies in his voice as Kuroo's ruffling hand stills in his hair.
"It was good to see you," Kuroo says. He runs his fingers back, slow, thumb on Tsukishima's temple above the stem of his glasses, and breathes in as much as he can of the air around Tsukishima's person, because there are some things, digitally unpreserved, that he likes to remember.
Tsukishima shifts toward him as the train pulls to a stop beside the caution line. "Likewise," he says. It lands in Kuroo's ear softer than a whisper of opening doors. Kuroo can barely register Tsukishima's hand at his waist, has just taken note of Tsukishima's skin on his cheek when the cold platform air hugs him once more, and he's through the sliding doors on autopilot before his heartbeat comes back to him.
Some things...
Kuroo knows there is an extremely dumb grin stretching across his face, but he doesn't even care. There is Tsukishima in his long ridiculous coat in the late evening stillness, watching Kuroo's train move away, cold shortcake in a bakery box in one hand while his other burrows into a pocket, hiding.
Maybe in a few months, when the weather's turned, or when Kuroo finds it in himself to do so. Maybe he'll take that hand in his own and press his lips to knuckles marked by ghost lengths of tape, and neither of them will try to hide.
He settles into a seat as the train picks up speed, catching his lone reflection in the dark glass.
He wonders what Tsukishima might look like, then, and turns his thoughts forward as he heads home.
Re: FILL, Team Grandstand, G
you're so good at details, you paint such a soft and quiet picture, that little glimpse into their lives and developing relationship and it fits so easily into kuroo's POV (he's a sap and poetic soul, none can convince me otherwise), who would of course notice all these little things. it's a little hesitant but it's comfortable too and so so soft
The bright fluorescent bars lined up above them have nothing on the stare-and-you-miss-it openness in Tsukishima's face, when he takes his metaphorical empty hand and holds it out, asking without asking for Kuroo to meet him halfway. I'M SO SOFT FOR THESE TWO
i can't even quote all the bits of prose i like because there's so much good stuff here, wow. just, thank you, this sustains me
Re: FILL, Team Grandstand, G
kuroo 'we are the body's blood' tetsurou absolutely seems a sap and a poetic soul, i'm so glad i could, capture a part of that ;v;
thank you for all your kind words (especially re my magnifying glass on details, cries in gratitude) and this bright grinning tsukishima icon oh my GOSH!!!!
Re: FILL, Team Grandstand, G