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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the end
Major Tags: Breakup, bad ending
Additional Tags: First person narration (please!)
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] the end
Major Tags: breakup
Additional Tags: first person
Permission to remix: yes
***
"We could give it another shot," you say, and I laugh so suddenly it startles us both.
We're in your kitchen. Two weeks ago it was our kitchen; the possessive is still in your favor, so you feel comfortable flinching in an ugly way. I met you after you learned how to do that - live in the future half a second faster than the rest of us, so that by the time we think to look for the ugly crease at your forehead or the gargoyle snarl in your mouth you've smoothed it out into something pleasant, bland; discomfort, but in a non-offensive beige.
Letting the mask drop in front of me wasn't an act of love so much as a battlefield surrender. It's exhausting, you told me once, being me. I would have rolled my eyes if anyone else said something so stale. I still did, but in an exaggerated cartoon way that let you know I got the joke.
I look away from you (do you the courtesy of looking away), but that means I have to look at the kitchen, which is full of so much... much. There are boxes in the front closet and scrunched up under the bed, theoretically saved for our move into a bigger apartment. The thought of sitting on the floor of my new place unpacking boxes labeled by your hand (BATHROOM and LIVING ROOM and SEUNGCHEOL'S SHOES (BOX 1/200), how you managed to make handwriting sarcastic is another mystery I'll never solve), boxes intended for an apartment I will never set foot in again, where you will still a year from now find a spare sock scrunched behind the washer and wonder for half a second before it hits you at a place you thought had, if not healed, at least scabbed over-
I can't look at the kitchen anymore. I can't look at you, either, because you're looking at me, and the sting of my laughter is blanching your skin as white as if I'd just given in and slapped you.
Because you thought we could give it another shot. Because you thought we were strong enough to fix this.
Within our, your, the kitchen, without the mask, your eyes are red-rimmed and dark at the same time, which means you've been crying too much to sleep.
This is where I lean forward to wipe the fresh new tears from the corners of your mouth and then take your hand in mind, noting out loud or just with a look of concern how thin your wrists have become. This is where I hesitate to close the distance between our bodies, a new, distasteful concept, and satisfy that anxiety by keeping our hands linked as I tug you into our bedroom, your bedroom, the bedroom, where the sheets are still rumpled and my pillow sits untouched. This is where I put you down into the mattress, not to fuck or kiss or hold, but to lay down as I sit at the edge, your thighs touching mg back, and tell you, in a quiet, but strong voice, that if you sleep for a little while I'll be here when you wake up. And you say, "And then we can?" and I say, "And then we can." And neither of us quite knows how that sentence ends, but there's a we in it, and so at least the start is good.
The second stick by, and my hand remains at my side. In that other reality, which is a ghost now, maybe things become okay. Maybe the boxes stay in the closet; maybe you say the right apologies, and I know how to accept them in a way which doesn't require any further hurt.
I wonder if we're happy in that other reality. I hope we are. If not immediately, than eventually. I'd like that for you. Maybe someday, I'll want that here, too.
Re: [FILL] the end
Re: [FILL] the end