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sportsanime2016-05-27 10:01 am
referees) wrote in sportsanime2016-05-27 10:01 am
Entry tags:
Bonus Round 1: Memory
This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on June 9 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.
Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)
RULES
- Submit prompts by commenting to this post! You prompt should consist of one scenario beginning with the phrase "Remember when", along with any ship/ot3/etc. from our list of nominated fandoms.
- Your prompts can take the form of recalling canon facts/events ("Remember when Nozomi and Eli got parfaits after school?"), non-canon events ("Remember when Megumi and Jin met at the Tadokoro Family Reunion?"), or somewhere in-between ("Remember when Bokuto and Kenma first met?"). Headcanons and AUs are welcome!
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Rei & Nagisa). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Rei/Nagisa). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
- Post fills by leaving a responding comment to a prompt with your newly-created work.
- Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
- 400 words (prose)
- 400px by 400px (art)
- 14 lines (poetry)
- Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to, including Grandstand or Sports Teams
- Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points
- Place the prompt's relationship in the first bolded line of the comment. Including the canon isn't required, but it's nice.
- Below that, place applicable major content tags (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none")
- Visual example
- Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to
- Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points
- Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
- Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none")
- NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of the fill in your comment.
- To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/>
- Visual example
- Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
- Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable
- NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment.
- To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" />
- Visual example
FORMAT
Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.Required Work Minimums:
Format your comment in one of the following ways:
| If PROMPTING: | If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
| PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
| FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING]
| FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING]
|
Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.
SCORING
These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)
First 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each
All scored content must be created new for this round.
Etc.
If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
FILL: Team Tennis no Ouji-sama, G
Word Count: 1962
I know this has already been filled multiple times but it was too good to pass up (and I hope it gets a thousand more fills tbh) >.<
-
If heaven had a Google Maps location, it would situate itself firmly at 1-04-Flowerbed St, smack bang in the middle of Flowerbed Hospital and Flowerbed Heights, at the doorstep of Flowerbed Florals, proprietor, Iwaizumi Hajime.
"I didn't pick the name," Iwa-chan defends. Tooru wants to rub his hands all over the crease in that brow.
"You wouldn't have such good taste," he says instead, leaning over the counter for a closer look at the bouquet-in-progress (and maybe also to sneak a better look at Iwa-chan's legs, but nobody needs to know that). The snapdragons flutter their petals at him, preening under Iwa-chan's fingers, and Oikawa knows they're taunting him. They're probably possessed, he thinks, fighting the urge to sweep them to the floor in retaliation. He's seem them when they wilt, ugly husks of brown, looking for all the world like tiny skulls. "Why are snapdragons popular here anyway?"
Iwa-chan pushes the stems into his hands and bends over to pick up a bright red ribbon. "Hold these for me."
Ignored then, but Tooru puts up with a lot for Iwa-chan, so he waits patiently, appreciating (from a purely selfish viewpoint) the stretch of Iwa-chan's trousers as he hunts for the right materials. Tooru would hold a lot for Iwa-chan. His flowers, his his stamen, his pollinating pollinators...It probably says something about how much time he's been spending in this shop that he's starting to think in floral metaphor.
He's spent a lot of time in this shop.
"Thanks." Iwa-chan plucks the flowers back, calloused fingers grazing the inside of Tooru's wrist, and this, this is why he became a nationally renowned volleyball star and notorious Casanova -- so he could have reason to order six hundred carnations in a week. And pay for them.
He's not desperate, no matter what Mattsun giggles behind his hand when Tooru graces the room with a generous sprinkling of blue flags. Tooru is a sensitive man, a genuine romantic, and so it's only natural for him to require a steady supply of flowers.
Really, he should be getting a discount. "You're going to give me a discount, right?" It's worth a try, though he already knows the answer.
"I'd consider it if you were less of an idiot," Iwa-chan tells him. "And I thought you were here to cancel?"
Tooru splutters all over the freshly-cut snapdragons. "What? No, why would I cancel on you?"
Iwa-chan kicks the floor. The words spill from him soft, hesitant. Different. "You wanted 'a hundred yellow carnations to rub in Tobio-chan's face when we wipe the floor with them next week.'"
Ah.
Tooru's fists clench of their own accord, his heart hammering in his chest as it had two days prior, fist outstretched, close, close, and yet never reaching, a stupid dream wilted and sour. "Iwa-chan," he trills, a semitone too high, "have you been keeping tabs on me?"
"You played well," Iwa-chan says. It's as much of an admission as Tooru's going to get, and if it doesn't completely ease the sting of defeat, it shapes the emotion into something more manageable, trims the thorns from its memory. "I have this for you instead."
It's a star-shaped flower, purple, but a lighter shade, with deep blue streaks through the broadest sections, fading to white in the centre. Tooru has no idea what it is, but it looks almost alien, and that alone is reason to love it.
"It's a narcissus, Trashykawa. Look it up."
Tooru bursts in early the next day before practice. Iwa-chan's spritzing water on the plants, still half-asleep, frowning at them like he can intimidate them into blossom.
"New beginnings, right?" he gushes, completely without context.
Iwa-chan understands him, though, and maybe it's their fantastic chemistry, maybe it's some alien superpower he has. Maybe Iwa-chan's been looking as much as Tooru has. For a moment, Tooru allows himself to imagine Iwa-chan on the court, biceps flexing as he draws back to strike the ball, and it's easy, too easy. If Iwa-chan had been there, Tooru wouldn't have lost to Tobio-chan and that shrimp in the first game of the season. "Nah," Iwa-chan says, shoving him aside to access the delphiniums. "Because you're a stuck-up asshat. Did you really come here just to say that?"
"And to make sure you weren't terrorising the flowers!" Oikawa says brightly, because Iwa-chan's grumpy face is a national security threat. If it's that bad after breakfast, Oikawa wants to know what sort of monstrosity it is when Iwa-chan's just woken up.
He manages one last word before he's kicked unceremoniously to the curb outside, flace flushed, grinning like his life depends on it. Dewy mist covers his face, stinging cold in the morning wind.
He finds the shop by recommendation, Suga-chan's gentle advice after a bad breakup. He's more pissed about being broken up with, which is a good sign for his future prognosis, but it's a stinging blow to his ego right then, and he stomps into the nearest florist without much motivation to buy anything at all.
"Can I help you?" Iwa-chan says, the politest he'll ever be, and Tooru launches himself onto the counter, sobs about his breakup, and would have thoroughly trashed his reputation as a mysterious heartbreaker had Iwa-chan not dragged him to the back room. There's a discreet tissue exchange, an awkward offer of a hug. He leaves with heart light and wallet lighter, a dozen red roses in his arms.
He never gives them to Mari-chan. Instead, Iwa-chan's bombarded with requests for a new bouquet every day of the week, addressed to a different girl each time. He explodes before Tooru runs out of names to give, raging as he ties increasingly sloppy bows, and he scrawls out cards with the artistry of a doctor. Within a month, he's chasing Tooru out the door, get out of my shop shrieked in much the same tone old men use to chase juveniles off their lawns, and Tooru forgets completely about his wounded pride. His mind is filled with black spikes and narrow eyes, a face that's plain by any standards and yet impossible to look away from.
"They say stupidity is cute," he says fondly, watching Iwa-chan struggle with the kanji for infatuation.
"Shut up," Iwa-chan fumes, looping his radicals so it's hard to tell what character he's actually written. "Who wrote this, anyway?"
"I'll have you know he's a famous poet," Tooru lies. Iwa-chan hates literature; he's never going to know.
"Do you believe in aliens?"
Iwa-chan fixes him with a terrifying glare, but this is important, okay, Tooru needs to know this sort of thing before he gets in too deep with someone who doesn't comprehend a basic fact of life.
"No," he says, finally. Tooru wants to cry. Nobody's perfect, his brain consoles him, while his heart screams abort aBORt aboRT. Then Iwa-chan's lips turn up, a wry grin that makes him look almost handsome. "I suppose that won't matter to them if they really do exist, though." He clearly doesn't think anything of it, but Tooru sees the red string of fate manifest right there and then.
He drops by every morning after that to educate Iwa-chan about the government conspiracy. Iwa-chan stops letting him in. "I have actual customers to serve," he growls, over Tooru's plaintive whimpers.
"Iwa-cha~n," he tries, but his seductive eyes are ineffective against the rock-hard quality of Iwa-chan's biceps, the carved outline of his pectorals. They might be more effective if Tooru brought his eyes up to Iwa-chan's face, but with a body like that, it's asking the impossible.
In short, he has no choice but to claim he needs a bouquet of cacti as an offering for the aliens.
"I'm going to have to order those in," Iwa-chan tells him.
Which gives Tooru the perfect excuse to wander past every couple of hours, just wondering whether those cacti have come in yet.
"I will call you when they come in," Iwa-chan howls in frustration on the third day. Which in turn, gives Tooru his number. He earned his heartbreaker title. Clearly, the way to Iwa-chan's heart is through his shop door, and Tooru has this. He has this flirting business down.
"I'll become a regular," he vows. "The best regular ever."
"You're already on the first team," his coach says, confused, "but it's good to have ambition."
Tooru only asks Iwa-chan to a game once.
"I injured my knee in high school." Iwa-chan lifts up his trousers, shows off the scarring. "Pretty ugly, huh?"
Tooru can't stop himself from reaching out to trace the scars, remembering his own injury, back in school, that freezing terror he had felt beyond the pain when he went down.
"I'm fine with it now," Iwa-chan continues, "but I haven't been to a live game since. It's different, you know? Seeing it in person."
The smell of sweat in the air. Shoes squeaking on the court. It's completely different watching from the sidelines, hands trapped by his sides. He can't imagine ever being a spectator. "Yeah," he says, watching Iwa-chan roll his trousers back down. "I know."
He walks in the day before the match and lays his credit card on the counter. "I want the biggest screw you bouquet you can dream up."
Iwa-chan grins, the lie flowing smoothly from his lips. "We don't take cancellations."
He's still not expecting to see Iwa-chan in the stands, the garish bouquet a stark contrast to the sea of jerseys and signboards. His next serve rockets over the net with pinpoint accuracy, his mind a mess off he came, and they win the match in straight sets, a dozen aces added to his stats chart.
Iwa-chan meets him after the debrief. "Good game."
Tooru beams. He hears Makki and Mattsun whispering furiously in the background, a hooted go get him barely hidden behind a cough, and his mind's still white with victory and an endless stream of he came for me. "Iwa-chan, are those for me?" He aims for teasing, but misses by a whole court-length, choked up and breathless like he hasn't just won the easiest game of his life.
"I paid for your stupidly overpriced tickets," Iwa-chan says, gruffer than usual, and his eyes are tinged red at the corners. Tooru's heart breaks to see it, knows too keenly the curse of having to sitting with hands tingling and legs aching. "You'll have to reimburse me."
"Anything," Tooru says, and means it. "You didn't have to come."
Iwa-chan looks away, mumbles something about customers and good service. It's a stupid excuse, and Tooru knows a thing or two about stupid excuses. But Iwa-chan came, and that means, it means --
"Tell me I'm not getting this wrong," he says, opening his arms out wide, and Iwa-chan pushes the bouquet into them, blushing dark down to his neck.
"When are you not getting things wrong," he says, but he types out a date and a location in a text a few minutes later. Bring flowers, is the accompanying message, and Tooru huffs out a laugh.
I might know a place.
They say love blossoms unexpectedly, but Tooru hates that sort of volatile concept, the inability to at least gauge the course of a lifespan. He wants a love that he can find, tucked away on the outskirts of Sendai castle, a love that looks terrible in the mornings and blooms in a hundred different colours every single day of the year.
Re: FILL: Team Tennis no Ouji-sama, G
BUT I LOVE HOW YOU WROTE THIS. I love Oikawa's overt flirting and Iwaizumi's more subtle flirting IT"S SO GREAT
Re: FILL: Team Tennis no Ouji-sama, G
Re: FILL: Team Tennis no Ouji-sama, G
Re: FILL: Team Tennis no Ouji-sama, G