Bonus Round 1: Quotes

SASO 2015 is over, but this round is perpetually open to new fills (no new prompts).

PLAY BALL! For this round, we'd like you to take inspiration from songs, sayings, poems, and other kinds of famous words.

Because this is our first full round, please read this post carefully before proceeding!

This round ends at 7PM on June 13 EDT. Countdown Timer.

RULES

Submit prompts by commenting to this post with a quote attributed to a specific person or character, along with any ship/ot3/etc. from one of our nominated fandoms.
- Example: "Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here!" -Kermit the Frog
- The quote can come from anywhere. Famous people, poetry, songs, books, movies, your neighbor, etc.
- 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., Yachi & Kiyoko). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Yachi/Kiyoko). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
Fill prompts by replying to the prompt with your quote-inspired fanwork.
Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
You cannot fill your team's prompts or your own prompts.

FORMAT

Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.

Required Work Minimums:

400 words (prose)
400px by 400px (art)
14 lines (poetry)

There is no max work cap.

Format your comment in one of the following ways:

If PROMPTING:	If FILLING:	If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant:
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP] 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. Visual example	FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] 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) NSFW FILLS: Post written/text fills directly to the round with clear tags. Please link to art/visual fills. You can include a small safe-for-work preview if you'd like. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] Replace RATING with the rating of your fill, G - E, as explained in the rules Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable NSFW FILLS: Post written/text fills directly to the round with clear tags. Please link to art/visual fills. You can include a small safe-for-work preview if you'd like. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example

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)

For fills:

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kuroko Tetsuya/Akashi Seijuro/Mayuzumi Chihiro (Kuroko no Basuke)

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known.” - Chuck Palahniuk

i hate this

im crying

Reference to vague self-harm, purple-prosey?, potential unreality triggers, 1075w

*

You do not learn from your mistakes.

When he tells you every move to make you believe him; when he tells you you are best unseen, you do not hesitate and believe him. He is red and you watch him. He takes you under and out.

You do not forgive him when he takes the only pure thing you've ever known away. But as the years progress, you remember the words he has told you, embrace them, take them by the minute and weave them through your fingers. You find new red, new gold, and you do not feel selfish when his words echo behind your ears again. But you, you still feel him, through your veins and fingertips and the sweat dripping behind your knees.

As soon as the buzzer goes off you can see the light disappear from his eyes. He has been conquered - but you, you are not the conquerer. You are the destroyer, the thief, and you remember you have no light either. He had once told you your strength was just that. You wonder if he believes it of himself.

At the time, you pull the other aside and try to get a good look at him. Try to get a good look at yourself. He had said that you were the same, that the other was better even - but you are the one who has stolen his darkness before he ever had a chance to extinguish the light. He glares at you under the restroom lights and demands, What the hell are you looking at, and you say, You, because he is he and you are you and you think that if the tiles stop reflecting, fluorescent faded from view, that not much would be different.

(You try it and you hate the way he kisses, almost exactly like you, bitter and ruined and like his cock, and you begin to have second thoughts.)

*

You have tried to separate the two, to see the red from the gold. As the days pass you grow weary and hate your father. The past feels like a ghost, the present a cloud you can't see through your own light.

Once upon a time you worked for something that you could touch. At the time, sport was something that touched your fingertips, not deep down inside where the mirror could break at any moment and shatter the facade you've built up for yourself. You encountered spirits that told you how your brain worked, when the world would end, when losing was a peace of mind and winning was climbing a mountain. Now losing is being buried six feet underground, and winning is, for a second, forgetting to breathe.

You break off your wings and try not to cry.

Every moment on the court is waking up. Every moment off the court is a nightmare, a limbo that can't be erased from your memory. Sometimes you try to bite the skin off your teeth, the blood from your hangnails. Instead the world turns and your blood runs hot while you are asleep, jolting you in a sweat as soon as your feet touch the ground.

He lets you decide how to fuck him and your sweat turns cold, for a second. He does not touch you as you guide your hips down on him, watching him grunt, maybe wanting him to scream. But you are not too hard because your hands are shaking and the ice sleets through you and pricks behind your eyes. You want to believe he is himself, he is someone else, he is you - but your head spins with silver and you don't know who you are.

*

On your worst days you believe the rumors, whispers that you've never heard, that you are second-rate. You are skin and bone and nothing more than the fog sweeping by ankles. He picks you up like truck tires on a dirt road and makes you believe that there is meaning in falling asleep.

He gusts into you with side along glances and finger brushes promising sex. You take them and do not mind his teeth against your ear, like he is trying to learn every part of you, absorb you. The world around you speaks of him like he is a god taming the others, but he grips onto your shoulders and rides hot on your cock. You are the water under his fingertips. He draws out your highest tides.

He talks of victories and summer mornings and shogi. You believe him when he tells you that you are first, you are better, and you cover his whimpers with your mouth and let him bite into you. You spend lunches alone fantasizing about what ifs and maybes and skulls buried deep underground, under his skin. You touch him like he might break and he fucks like he wants to break.

You are close to holding his hand when you realize you are not first, or second, and royalty sounds more like the stories your mother used to tell you to get you to fall asleep. You wish you were asleep, the way you see their gazes meet, sun against moon, and you are the side the sun forgets about. You want to say, Hey, I'm here now - but are you? Or are you only what he wants you to be, what you wished you were?

As soon as the illusion breaks, and you watch him split, you wonder if he has ever been there at all. Or if he has been somewhere else, with him, thinking that he is you when you are already gone. You run to the restroom and try to forget that he's ever been there, that you thought you could compete, and you splash water on your face and want to dig your nails into your bones.

A door opens.

You try not to turn around, but you hear the soft whisper of your name, in a tone that already knows you. You want to spit out tobacco, but you keep your mouth closed as you are told are you okays and half-asleep apologies and stories that will keep you awake. There is a hand on your cheek and you have you remind yourself that you are not looking into a mirror. That when you try to see hate and all you get is pity, that the face you are looking at is not you.

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I LOVE YOU THANK YOU ARO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This pairing is such a disastrous ruin ME FAVE KIND OF SHIP TBH

And what the heck??? Why is your purple prose so beautiful? What sorcery is this?!!?!

CRIES THANK U BURIES FACE IN HANDS...

Bonus Round 1: Quotes

Bonus Round 1: Quotes

PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND

Re: PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND

FILL: Team Haikyuu!!, R

Re: FILL: Team Haikyuu!!, R

Re: FILL: Team Haikyuu!!, R