Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."
"What is grief, if not love persevering?"
"You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. Each prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, and more. Steal from a literary classic, or WeVerse drama. Have fun!
Examples
Minghao + Ocean Vuong
The most beautiful part of your body
is where it's headed. & remember,
loneliness is still time spent
with the world.
Ocean Vuong - night sky with exit wounds
Hoshi/Anyone; "Beauty is terror"
Thinking about these two quotes together and the idea of on/off-stage personas:
"Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful we tremble before it. And what could be more terrifying or beautiful, to the Greeks to to our own, than to lose control completely?" - Donna Tartt, the Secret Histories
"I am calm in everyday life but when I put on my in-ear device and step on stage, I can feel the tension and hear the cheers getting louder as the music gets louder. When the staff tells me it's time to step on stage, I feel something boil inside me. I feel it steaming inside and I think I have to give a burst of something, spill what is inside me." - Hoshi in Hit the Road Ep. 04
Any ship; "It's been so many years"
Hello, hello there, is this Martha?
This is old Tom Frost
And I am calling long distance
Don't worry 'bout the cost.
'Cause it's been forty years or more
Now Martha please recall
Meet me out for coffee
Where we'll talk about it all.
Tom Watts - Martha
Rules
- Sign up is not required.
- 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 to something interesting;
- Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want!
Filling
- Reply to the original prompt;
- Change the subject to [FILL], you may add a title or stay chaotic;
- 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)
Note!
On dreamwidth, you can't edit a comment once someone has replied to it.
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no subject
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Complicated Feelings, Past Relationships, Parties
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] dawning dusk
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: parties, balconies, alcohol and cigarettes
Permission to remix: Yes
***
“Hello.”
Wonwoo snubs his cigarette underneath the sole of his shoe. The embers scattered on the tile of the balcony, all unimpressive greys and blacks with no indication of catching fire again.
“Hi,” Wonwoo replies, pulling his head back a distance.
Minghao would always reel at the smell sticking to Wonwoo’s shirt after work. On particularly rainy days, it accompanied every word parting from Wonwoo’s mouth—and yet, Minghao would always pull him in for a kiss, then.
Wonwoo expects a reprimand here, right in between the gaps of silence. But none came. The red dusting Minghao’s cheeks is a crimson bloom against the haze of Seoul’s dusk.
Minghao has always been giggly when inebriated. In these rare moments, his hands roamed braver, touches more abundant, words freer.
This time, Minghao leans his back against the railing of the balcony, face bound skywards. He says nothing. He isn’t even smiling, lips a perfect line. Hands kept close to his torso.
Wonwoo looks away, vision zeroing on the low hanging moon in the distance. Not voluntarily.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
That isn’t true. It’s supposed to be: I knew I’d find you here
Wonwoo shrugs, “I’m not into parties.”
He says it as though it’s their first time on this balcony. The amount of words exchanged is not much different though, and the silence is familiar, if only more unpleasant. It might as well be their first time.
“Not even when it’s mine?”
They were strangers when they first met. Wonwoo remembers the aftertaste of their encounter, the kindling warmth of: I’m glad you found me here. Only nicotine lingers on his tongue now, and he wants it to overtake his senses.
“Aren’t you supposed to be inside? It’s a celebration for your white coat ceremony, after all.” Wonwoo asks back, already fishing out another stick. Any other time, Minghao would get to it first before Wonwoo could light it. The fire flickers into nothing. He pockets his cigarette, puts his lighter down on the railing.
“You’re right.” Minghao moves, standing up straight. “I should.”
Don’t go, Wonwoo wants to say. The words are lead in his throat.
“Congratulations,” Wonwoo says instead, “I always knew you’d make it.”
He always knew. He knows, he knows, of course he knows. He’d been there during the sleepless nights, during the frantic translating of medical terms he could barely understand into Minghao’s mother tongue, during the quiet nights at the park, the much needed breaks where Minghao’s head make landfall on one of his shoulders.
“Thanks.”
When Minghao smiles, Wonwoo recognises the hesitance. The creases of his eyes disappear after a second, and Minghao stays standing there, halfway to the door. It’s not the congratulations he want.
Wonwoo makes no move, even when Minghao frowns at the refusal. An expression Wonwoo never sees when the other was intoxicated.
In the end, Minghao doesn’t leave on his own. A fact Wonwoo both hates and is glad for. But it’s more so the latter, a fact he hates even more.
The door slides open, and Hansol blinks as soon as he spotted Wonwoo. Before he makes any discernible expression, his eyes find Minghao in the middle, between them.
Something ignited, right then. Not in Wonwoo, he doesn’t think anything will again.
Minghao bridges the distance to the door with haste. His previous inhibitions all gone with the new presence.
“Everyone’s waiting for you,” Hansol says, “They want you to blow the candles on your cake.”
“Cake and candles? It’s not my birthday.”
“No. It’s not, but it’s a new chapter in your life, so it’s pretty much like a new age for you, isn’t it?”
Without me, is something unsaid, but Wonwoo doesn’t need it to be.
“Okay. You’re right.” Minghao nods, smiling now.
They both disappear, door closing with a click behind them.
Wonwoo is alone again, back to where he was before, but not quite. His gaze finds the moon now, following its slow, lonely ascent through the sky. He touches around for his lighter to find none. Ah, he must’ve knocked it over the railing by accident.
Cheers erupt behind him, loud and boisterous and full of heart—everything Minghao deserves.
He leaves his box of cigarettes, hoping gravity would rid of it, as it did his lighter, before anyone else does.
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