sportsanime | Bonus Round 1: Memory

Let's start our summer by looking at the past—things that happened in canon, or maybe in an AU, or maybe just as wishful thinking...

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.

FORMAT

Brand-new works only, please.

Required Work Minimums:

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

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. Below that, place applicable major content tags (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none") 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; 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	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] 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

code of conduct

SCORING

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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Abe Takaya & Furuya Satoru (oofuri & daiya no ace)

Remember when Furuya ended up playing baseball for Nishiura and was the exact kind of pitcher that Abe hates dealing with most?

you're killing me hERE

I want it SO BAD, OKAY

I want Furuya to just be his beautiful single-minded self and for Abe to EAT SHIT

word count: 1088

The locker room is quiet with just the two of them. Even the thrumming in his veins is slow and soft, just a steady beat somewhere deep in his ears. This kind of quiet is familiar; being alone isn’t any surprise. Hokkaido’s behind him now, miles away and becoming a memory, but this much has stayed the same. It’s different though, he thinks, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his jersey before slumping down onto the bench. Even with just one more person, alone feels different.

Abe is at his back, the sound of his breathing quiet and familiar. When they’re together off the diamond, Furuya feels strangely, accutely aware of the distance between them: whether it shrinks or grows; how different it is from the regulated space stretching out from the mound to home plate. What the air in between feels like.

Right now, it’s like the drip of a faucet, like the pulse of his blood. His limbs feel loose and heavy; his shoulder rolls easy, warm with the burn of throwing all afternoon, as hard as he can. The sound of the ball hitting the mitt resonates in the back of his mind, a satisfaction that coils slow and sweet.

Abe lets out a low hiss and Furuya turns, watching the muscles in his back ripple, stretching taut as he pulls his compression shirt off. There’s a green yellow bruise smeared along Abe’s left side, and Furuya’s shoulders straighten, something butterflying inside his chest. “What,” he starts, slow and quiet, the words like hard seeds blooming in his mouth. He licks his dry lips, “What’s that from?”

Abe’s eyes are on him, careful as always, wary and guarded. There’s a strange flicker at the dark center that makes Furuya’s fingers curl along the fabric of his pants. “From your wild fastball last week,” he tells Furuya finally. His lips pressed tight and even, words low and catching on the edge of his teeth. Abe shifts his weight to one leg, easing back and leveling his gaze on Furuya, facing him head-on.

There’s something on Furuya’s tongue that tastes stale and sour, something that makes him think of grey days under a bridge: just the sound of the wind and passing cars, voices from the baseball diamond too far in the distance to make out the words. He clenches his fist tighter, trying to swallow it down.

Furuya can see all the colors marking Abe’s chest, a marble patchwork that puts a small lump in Furuya’s throat. There’s a deep blue bruise sunk deep at the corner of Abe’s hip, the shape familiar, the size like his fist. His eyes linger there watching it ripple under the steady rise and fall of Abe’s breathing, deep steady breaths. Furuya can see the way the abdominal muscles at the edge of the bruise twitch slightly.

“That one’s from your splitter,” Abe says, something brittle in his voice, a thin layer of ice on the edge of fracturing under his fingertips. “I can catch it now though,” Abe tells him, turning back towards his open locker. The smooth plane of Abe’s back doesn’t give anything away. It’s strong and clear of marks, pale skin stretched taut over muscles, the dip of his spine running straight down the middle.

There’s something about this moment that doesn’t feel right to Furuya. Like something he can’t see or hear, but is supposed to trust is there anyway. When he’s on the mound, the only thing he knows, the only thing he can see and hear and trust is Abe sitting across home plate, the shape of his mitt wide open and waiting.

Furuya reaches out to grab Abe’s hand, sliding his fingers over the curve of Abe’s wrist, pressing his palm against the curl of Abe’s palm. Abe’s hand doesn’t feel any cooler or warmer than his own; the calluses are dotted in different places but it’s just as hard and strong. He presses his thumb against the ridge of a knuckle, his hand squeezing slightly to the same rhythm as the pump of his heart.

There’s something thick and wordless lodged in Furuya’s throat. Something wanting, burning up inside him. It’s like when he stood at the edge of the road with his grandfather, his eyes sweeping over the shape of the diamond again and again, just the shape of the mound and the crisp white lines; the players all too far away, moving to a rhythm of their own.

In this moment, Furuya is glad for the steady solid feel of Abe’s hand in his own. There’s just the stillness of the air all around them, the skin and bones of Abe’s hand, the flex of his fingers firm against Furuya’s. He doesn’t know how to tell Abe what it means to be on this team, to have someone who won’t give up the place behind home plate when Furuya steps up to the mound. Maybe these things are easier with half the diamond lodged between them. Maybe he can only say them with the strain of his muscles and a pitch bulleting forward. Furuya starts to pull his hand back, something jolting off rhythm under his skin.

“We can win with your pitching,” Abe tells him, clutching at his hand. His fingers curl so tightly around Furuya’s knuckles, he can feel a pulse thrumming under the skin. Abe’s voice is low but his words are clear, strong in the quiet and steady in the emptiness. “I’ll catch what you throw,” Abe says, pressing in closer, his eyes locked on Furuya’s. There’s a wild flicker all around the edge of Abe’s eyes. “But you need to throw where I sign.”

Abe’s hand feels the same as Furuya’s, the calluses rubbing together, the pulse thrumming to the same beat. “You’ll take the top with me,” Furuya says finally, every word rolling off one long slow breath. There’s nothing waiting in the quiet except for Abe. When he’s on the mound, the world narrows to the signs hanging off Abe’s fingers; the sound of Furuya’s pitch hitting the mitt like an echo of something Abe only lets Furuya know. “We’ll win together,” he says, the want burning up under his skin; his palm pressed flushed against Abe’s.

Abe’s lips part wordlessly, his hand squeezing tightly around Furuya’s. “Yeah,” he says, mouth quivering, curling up slowly at the corners. A glimmer of teeth and something burning in his eyes. “You and me,” he tells Furuya. “You and me and everyone. We’ll win together.”

I adore this so, so much, it's everything I could have hoped for with this prompt and more.

I really enjoy your writing style, it has this very deliberate weight and really nice pacing, and so many of your turns of phrase are lovely. But what I like best about this fill in particular is how thoroughly it alludes to both Furuya and Abe's pasts, without ever bringing their backstories out into the open. I love that it's present as this weight upon them, this thing that causes them to rub each other's nerves where they're raw without quite understanding it, but I love best of all that it doesn't stop them from being a battery who can work together.

And the handholding! As much as I adore this in general I think I love that the most with specifics, because it really makes me think about Furuya at Nishiura and the ways in which that could be really really good for him. It and everything after it make me want to believe that in the end, this battery will be good for Abe and Furuya both.

Bonus Round 1: Memory

PROMPT: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA

Re: PROMPT: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA

no subject

FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [G]

no subject