referees: (Default)
SASO Referees ([personal profile] referees) wrote in [community profile] sportsanime2017-05-28 06:52 pm
Entry tags:

Bonus Round 1: AUs


SASO 2017 is over, but this round is perpetually open to new fills (no new prompts).

This popular round is back once again! To begin this year's SASO, we encourage you to let your mind run wild with alternate ideas and settings.

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)

  • Submit prompts by commenting to this post with an alternate universe idea, along with a ship from one of our nominated fandoms. There's a comment template below for your convenience.
    • 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., Izumi & Sakaeguchi). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Izumi/Sakaeguchi). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
  • An AU can be a canon divergence, e.g. "what if [character] was the Team Captain instead of the canon captain character?", or a completely different setting altogether, e.g., pop idol AU, coffee shop AU, superheroes AU, etc.
  • Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work.
  • Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

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:

  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to. Any way you format it is fine.
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to. Any way you format it is fine.
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. [community profile] saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills.
    • Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or [community profile] saso_afterhours ONLY.
    • Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere; you may include a small safe-for-work thumbnail of the fill in your comment.
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. [community profile] saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills.
    • Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or [community profile] saso_afterhours ONLY.
    • Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere; you may include a small safe-for-work thumbnail of the fill in your comment.

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.

If you see anyone breaking the code of conduct (e.g., causing drama, being rude) anywhere (not just DW), please contact the mods immediately.

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 4 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 5-10: 15 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21-50: 2 points each
Fills 51+: 1 point each

All scored content must be created new for this round.

If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only (see the line of links below this post).

Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kuroko &/ Miracles
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Kuroko is a dragon who keeps hoarding all their basketballs.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kuroko &/ Tetsuya #2
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Tetsuya #2 is a baby dragon instead of a puppy but Kuroko adopts him anyway and he becomes the team mascot?
stariceling: (Default)


[personal profile] stariceling 2017-06-01 09:44 am (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Here be dragons
Word Count: 1560

I really love this prompt! I just love the image of Kuroko carrying a little dragon around in his backpack, although it became more introspective than silly.


Kuroko honestly wasn’t doing anything, but even his teammates refused to believe him. The fact that he could walk down the street with a dragon trotting beside him and not get a second glance from anyone was not due to his misdirection. He had thought about how to keep people from overreacting, but he’d never needed to put any of it into practice.

In fact, when they got close to the station and the sidewalk became more crowded he bent to pick Tetsuya Two up. There was a possibility someone would trip over the little dragon otherwise.

Next to him Kagami said, “geh!” and jerked sideways so that he stepped off the sidewalk. Only for one step, however, before he righted himself and was walking normally at Kuroko’s side again. Tetsuya Two still seemed to startle him sometimes, even though he said it wasn’t a problem anymore.

Tetsuya Two made a low chirring noise and rubbed the top of his head against the underside of Kuroko’s chin. Kuroko hoped he wasn’t shedding again already. He’d already gone through one shed with skin lifting away in papery sheets that then crumbled like flakes of ash. (Kuroko had ended up researching shedding in pet reptiles at that point, and tried misting Tetsuya Two with a spray bottle. He wasn’t sure it helped but Tetsuya Two had liked the game.)

Also there was the fact that the dragon was definitely getting bigger, but had barely gotten any heavier. What had been a round little dragon the size of a puppy was now almost serpentine, with long limbs and neck and so-far-useless floppy wings. He was still easy to carry, and if anything harder to put down than before since he could cling more effectively now.

Kagami thumped his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked up to find a slight frown on his friend’s face. He must have looked more troubled than he really was.

“What did Aomine say? He showed up, right?”

Aomine had said before Kuroko’s visit that he didn’t have time to see him and Kuroko had relayed this comment to Kagami, but of course Aomine had showed up.

“He said we’re not allowed to lose to anyone before him.”

Kagami made an offended noise and Tetsuya Two let out a bark that sounded like a laugh.

“Momoi said she couldn’t find any information,” Kuroko added a moment later. That had been his main reason for visiting Touou. He hadn’t been able to find anything about dragons outside of fantasy and myth, but he had been sure Momoi would find something. It was still hard to believe she hadn’t.

It was troublesome not to have access to information about how to go about raising a dragon, but at this point Kuroko was interested in the lack of information itself. Maybe dragons were everywhere and people looked right past them.

“It took some time to even show her Tetsuya Two the first time. Even after he stopped hiding,” he added.

“That makes sense. It’s easier to keep track of that thing when you’re holding it.”

“Is it?”

Kuroko hadn’t known that. He didn’t notice any looks from anyone around him while holding Tetsuya Two.

Tetsuya Two suddenly slithered over his shoulder and climbed into his backpack. Kuroko could feel him curling up and settling until he somehow fit and then the soft vibration of purring. He had stopped wondering about the fact that he was sure his bag had been zipped or how Tetsuya Two still fit in there, just like he had stopped wondering why those claws never ripped his clothes or skin.

Kagami bumped his shoulder again and said, “Come on. I’m starving.”

It was good to hang out with his friend, the conversation halting between topics and then picking up on something else a minute later. Tetsuya Two climbed back out of his bag and into his lap to steal some of his fries, and it all felt like a nice return to normalcy.

(Tetsuya Two would eat Riko’s cooking if offered and stray coins if not stopped. Kuroko was not worried about the fries at this point.)

It wasn’t until he said goodbye to Kagami that his brain veered back to the comment about Tetsuya Two being easier to see with him.

He’d never had trouble seeing Tetsuya Two. Since the moment he’d approached the abandoned box and found a dragon curled up in it instead of a puppy or kitten, it had obviously been a dragon in front of him. His attention had never slipped over it and onto something else. What else could have possibly distracted him?

He had looked into those calm blue eyes and then Tetsuya Two had put his front claws on the edge of the box and made that noise Kuroko could only think of as a bark, and everything had been decided.

Riko had been able to see Tetsuya Two right away as well. He wondered if the rest of the team had seen the dragon before she picked him up and gushed over him. Tetsuya Two did seem to like her in particular. He often sat by her when Kuroko was practicing or on the court and ate the bits of protein bar she gave him under the bench.

Even if no one outside the team could see their mascot, Tetsuya Two enjoyed coming to practice and games, and cheered the team on with chirps and barks.

Kagami still sometimes lost track of Tetsuya Two, even now. Teppei had the same problem, although he didn’t jump. It had been very difficult to introduce Tetsuya Two to Aomine, too. He had a feeling the rest of his past teammates would have the same problem.

It wasn’t quite dark when he made it home, so he took Tetsuya Two out to the grassy lot behind his house. People were always saying it would be paved over and turned into apartments or a parking structure but somehow that never happened. For now the long open stretch was good for playing fetch. Here it didn’t matter if his aim was abysmal.

He wondered if Tetsuya Two would get big enough to do this with a basketball. So far whenever Tetsuya Two played with one of their basketballs, ‘dribbling’ it across the floor, the ball had escaped unscathed, but he suspected that fetch would only work once before he needed a new ball. Tennis balls survived being chewed on.

On one of his more erratic throws he noticed how high Tetsuya Two jumped, wings outstretched. His next toss was more careful. Underhand and not aimed anywhere in particular but in a high, slow arc.

Tetsuya Two exploded out of the tall grass with the setting sun glinting golden on his scales and glowing through the raised fan along his spine. He was definitely flying this time, wings kicking up a plume of dust.

Kuroko didn’t understand how people could not notice such a creature. (For this moment, there was no one but him to notice.)

Tetsuya Two missed the tennis ball completely, landed with an undignified squawk, and galloped after it. When he brought it back that was apparently to show Kuroko his trophy, not to let him throw it again.

The game devolved into chasing Tetsuya Two through the grass, trying to retrieve the ball.

By the time he was home picking grass seeds out of his socks, Kuroko felt much better. Even if there were no instructions on how to raise a dragon, he would figure it out. He would still gather information and plan ahead where he could, but he could adapt as many times as he needed to.

Tetsuya Two recognized something of himself in Kuroko the first moment he saw him. Kuroko was a human shadow. He was much dimmer and softer around the edges than any dragon could be, but a shadow nonetheless.

Dragons were creatures of absolutes, the way life and death are absolutes. When they died they disappeared so completely that they ripped memories of themselves from human minds. They were drought or rain, light or shadow. They could even be both, although never at the same time.

They were always shadows when they were young and vulnerable, and Tetsuya Two was so young that being a shadow came more naturally than hunting or flying.

Hiding against the dark of another shadow might not be the best survival strategy, but when dragons adopted someone that love was also absolute.

When Kuroko was asleep he was no more of a shadow than any other human. Tetsuya Two never understood how he managed this trick. While Kuroko slept, Tetsuya Two crawled into the flimsy hiding place under blankets and curled up tight against his stomach. There it was easy to listen to the little incidental sounds of his body, the bellows of his lungs and the working of his gut and the throb of his heart. It seemed he couldn’t stop those processes, even awake.

In that comforting space, Tetsuya Two dreamed. He would grow and grow and his scales would harden into incorruptible gold and he would outshine the sun. Instead of shadow he would become light.

Kuroko couldn’t grow so much. Kuroko would still be a shadow, thin and grey and soft around the edges.

He would grow bright enough to become Kuroko’s Light.
Edited (forgot to put wordcout) 2017-06-01 10:20 (UTC)


[personal profile] fickle - 2017-06-01 10:35 (UTC) - Expand
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[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Takao/Izuki
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket/
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Takao and Izuki can shapeshift into a hawk and eagle respectively but neither of them know that about the other until it’s revealed.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Akashi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: Violence, blood.
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Akashi shows Hanamiya why he’s just an amateur when it comes to cruelty.
alectorine: (Default)


[personal profile] alectorine 2017-05-29 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
i know nearly nothing about knb but from what little i do know i REALLY really want to see this


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[personal profile] moetushie - 2017-06-02 00:02 (UTC) - Expand
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[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Sakurai/Aomine
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Sakurai leads Aomine around on a collar and leash because it’s the only way to get him to places on time.
yrindor: Head shot of Ulquiorra Cifer on a black background (Default)


[personal profile] yrindor 2017-05-29 04:33 pm (UTC)(link)
I was already building a small hoard of your prompts *before* I made it here; now I'm just yelling. I'll be back.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kagami/Aomine
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Kagami poolsharks to support himself in Japan and Aomine gets OWNED.
Edited 2017-05-29 12:08 (UTC)
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Momoi/Riko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: mention of non-con, violence
Other Tags: none

Prompt: Sweet/Vicious AU aka the girls go around beating up rapists.
putsch: (Default)

FILL: Team Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, M

[personal profile] putsch 2017-06-08 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: violence, blood, major injuries (to the knees and face)
Other Tags: non-con implications
Word Count: 408


it took time, it took practice, but they've boiled their trade down to an art.

step one, find a target: never a hard feat these days with boys who believe they are strong enough to stand above the world, willing to step on anyone they want and take what they have without asking.

sometimes they find their targets from the local news. but more often than not, it's another young woman on campus whose heard the whispers and comes to them with "please."

step two, research: sometimes this is the most fun part. they've spent what feels like lifetimes watching others, picking apart their strengths from their weaknesses, their hobbies, everything all the way down to height weight and blood type.

they spend nights comparing notes, finding the missing pieces in address books, closets, and weaponry drawers.

step three, the hunt: if all went to plan, this, this is where it all came together, and momoi or riko couldn't deny it was the best kind of thrill.

they've done well this time, there's no blood on their knuckles and the fool is on the pavement crying and shaking, unable to look at them or his bloodied broken knees.

"hey now, quit making a fuss darling." momoi cooed, tapping her crowbar underneath his chin. his voice cut off to a whimper, and momoi smiled. "see, much better."

"you know why we're here don't you?" riko asked, coming up to his side. he tried to shuffle away from her only to remember why he's on the ground.

"p-please! i didn't do anything!"

riko sighed and looked up at momoi for the signal - a simple nod, a tuck of her hair behind her ear.

"you should know better than to lie to us." momoi said, watching riko pull thick black leather gloves over her elegant fingers. "but then again, considering what you did to poor kiyo-chan, maybe you don't."

the man's eyes went wide for a second, and just as he opened his mouth riko's knuckles collided with it hard. his head snapped back as he fell limp and bleeding on the ground.


"well we knew that darling." momoi pulled her mask off so she could show her big smile. "just like we knew we could take him out."

"obviously." riko grinned back, looping her arm around momoi's waist. "and it was as good for you as it was for me."

"oh," momoi's grin went violently sharp. "obviously. "
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Momoi/Riko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where they’re both spies.
wino: (Default)


[personal profile] wino 2017-05-30 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none
Word Count: 553

i went with a skyfall-esque interpretation. they're sort of spies? anyway


"Turn right, 002, turn right!"

"I am turning right, Q, don't yell at me!"

"My right! My right!

"He's gaining on you, just so you know."

"Oh, shit."

Kagami wasn't even remotely close to overtaking Aomine, but what Aomine didn't know is a win for their team, so the lie doesn't linger on Momoi's conscience too much. Aomine always needed unique motivators, so to speak, which is what happens when the Agency employs agents who don't care enough about protecting the country as much as they should.

If forging rivalries within the department is what gets them going, Momoi thinks it's a sweet bargain.

"Now," she says into Aomine's earpiece once he arrives at a crossroads again. "Turn left. My left."

"I got it." Aomine pauses, as if he's mulling something over, and he proves Momoi's suspicions in less than two seconds. "He's not still right behind me, is he?"

"No, you've lost him." Momoi takes a cursory sip of her peach tea, smiling at the incoming realization.

"Was he ever right behind me?"

"Nope. 006 is operating in a different region tonight. Don't tell me you miss him?"


"I'm sorry, Dai-chan, but mentioning him always sharpens your focus. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I'm not."

At the other end of the line, Momoi hears him grumble. "Whatever. Just tell me where to go next."

She sets down her mug. "I'm on it."


They gather the necessary intel before the sun has even risen, so Momoi considers it a job well-done. She sets Aomine on a private jet home and placates him with promises of the latest magazine with Mai-chan in it before it hits the printing press, and calls it a night.

She's just about to leave the office when Aida, another Q, and the only other Q on Momoi's level, walks into her quarters wearing an expression just short of smug.

"You only finished now? My 00 completed the mission hours ago."

Momoi smiles, inwardly, because she's not about to give Aida the satisfaction of seeing it. This part, too, is cursory. "Is that so? Well, we all know 006 has always been a smidge sloppy in his execution. It's only natural that he'd finish first."

"As if 002's infiltration of Touou Corporation isn't right under the dictionary definition of sloppy—"

Momoi clears her throat, changing tactics. She's not about to admit defeat so early. "We can go at this all night, Q. Is this all you really came here for?"

"Yeah, why else would I—"

Momoi flicks a pen off her desk and bends over to pick it up, giving Aida an unobstructed view down her chest. When she's upright again, Aida's face is sporting a magnificent blush.

"You're cheating, Q."

"Only using what's in my arsenal. We both know how that goes." Here is when she smiles, considering it her victory, however close the margin had been. "My place, or yours?"

"Yours," says Aida quickly. She reaches out, twirls a lock of Momoi's cherry blossom hair with the tips of her fingers. "Some of the boys keep crashing at mine, and it stinks there right now."

Momoi's mind flickers to Dai-chan's unfortunate preference in deodorants, and laughs. Aida mirrors the sound, and Momoi can't help but lean in to taste it.

"I know the feeling."
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Aomine & Kise
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where they’re an idol group that broke up but Kise still wants to sing duets.
clearlykero: (Default)


[personal profile] clearlykero 2017-05-29 12:15 pm (UTC)(link)
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kise/Ryoma
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket/Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Kise sees Ryoma playing tennis and gets inspired to join the tennis team (aka Ryoma is basically Aomine in this verse).
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Aomine/Ryoma
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket/Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where the Japanese tennis and basketball teams go to the Olympics together.
Edited 2017-05-29 12:10 (UTC)
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Eijun & Ryoma
Fandom: Daiya no Ace/Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where the Japanese tennis and baseball teams go to the Olympics together.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kirihara/Ryoma
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Ryoma is the tiniest cutest imp in Hell and Kirihara has been assigned the task of showing him how to blend in the human world. By playing tennis.
psiten: (Default)


[personal profile] psiten 2017-06-03 12:36 am (UTC)(link)
Do you mind if I do a spin where Ryoma is actually much better at this than the person assigned to teach him?
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)

Ship: Kirihara/Mizuki
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Mizuki can do dark magic but ends up biting off more than he can handle when he summons Kirihara.
zephyr_djinni: (Default)


[personal profile] zephyr_djinni 2017-05-30 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Supernatural elements
Word Count: 852

This is a really cool prompt! I like the idea of Kirihara and Mizuki together :)


Fellow dark magician Fuji Syusuke is Mizuki’s next door neighbor and greatest rival (to be). Fuji is known for his trademark ability to hex anyone with a simple flick of his eyes, and more recently has gained the ability summon creatures from the underworld at will. (Even going as far as to give them all disgustingly cutesy nicknames). Mizuki isn’t quite sure how he does it, but as Fuji’s number one rival (to be), Mizuki is determined to do everything in his power to best him.

After gathering all his summoning tools, Mizuki heads off to the town square so all the villagers may witness him conjure up a being much more powerful than Fuji could ever imagine! The only problem is, the summoning spell calls for fresh rose petals and, with it being wintertime and all, Mizuki only manages to find dried ones. Also, not wanting to alert anyone to the fact that he still relies on his spellbook, Mizuki writes the entire enchantment on a sticky note and hides it discreetly in his palm. But unfortunately, the ink smudges and he is forced to fudge a couple words here and there.

So, yes, Mizuki modified a few of the minor details, but it never should have resulted in THIS.

Mizuki flushes in humiliation as a mangy looking gremlin calling himself The Devil Akaya emerges from the center of the casting circle.

“He looks like you,” a passerby remarks, “Cousin?”

How. Dare. They.

Mizuki Hajime is the epitome of beauty, while this--this Akaya figure is...well, okay, he does slightly look like him. And is Mizuki crazy for thinking he’s kind of cute? (Does it make him a narcissist?)

For now the passerby would escape Mizuki’s hex. Mostly because Mizuki can’t remember the order of the words for the particular curse he wishes to cast, but also because he is intrigued by The Devil Akaya.


“Got any video games?” Akaya clasps his hands behind his head, eyes darting around Mizuki’s tiny magician’s hut.

When Mizuki answers that he doesn’t have any, that it wouldn’t match his evil baroque aesthetic, Akaya becomes enraged. Red eyes glowing, his little devil feet stomp all over Mizuki’s freshly polished floor sending the china cabinet crashing to the ground.

Mizuki wants to scream.

There has to be a way to send him back, Mizuki thinks, pulling out his pocket spellbook only to happen upon a line of fine print he skipped over in his former haste.

WARNING: Substituting dry rose petals for fresh may result in summoning The Devil Akaya

No, there is *no way* to send him back.

Ha ha ha.

Mizuki twirls his favorite lock of hair, watching in agitation as Akaya stomps all over his freshly laundered baroque carpet. The Devil Akaya seems terribly ill-mannered, even for a devil.

As Mizuki’s trying to remember if he’s learned a spell powerful enough to lock a devil in the cupboard, there’s a knock at the door.

Likely it’s his number one rival (to be), Fuji Syusuke, asking to ‘borrow’ a cup of sugar. He always does this, ask to borrow sugar, which should really be called stealing a cup of sugar since he never gives it back. Although Mizuki is rapidly running out of sugar for his English breakfast tea, he can’t refuse. Word will get out, and the whole town always takes Fuji’s side. Probably because Fuji’s cursed them into doing so.

But, before Mizuki can do anything, a still enraged Akaya proceeds to open the door, kick Fuji in the shin, and slam the door right in his face.

Mizuki doesn’t hold back a smirk at Akaya’s brash actions. Maybe, just maybe, one small handheld system won’t disturb his evil baroque aesthetic. He’ll take Akaya over to the non-magical-items shop after tea-time.

Mizuki then remembers all his precious cups are strewn across the floor, shattered into millions of unrecognizable pieces.

“Oh, your tea cups…” Akaya says following Mizuki’s gaze to the mess on the floor, seeming to just now notice the tiny shards of porcelain beneath their feet. “But, you can fix it, right? You’re a magician!” The way Akaya’s eyes light up when he says magician makes Mizuki feel like some type of God. Or Santa Claus.

“Of course.” Mizuki waves his hand in the air dismissively. Truthfully, as a dark magician he doesn’t know much about mending things, but he will just have to figure it out.


When the shopkeeper says Mizuki doesn’t have enough money to pay for both a handheld gaming system and tacky glue, Akaya punches him square in the face, giving the shopkeeper a not-so-mild concussion. And, with the shopkeeper out of commission, Mizuki impulsively ‘borrows’ a pound of sugar on their way out the door.

As they sit side-by-side piecing together the baroque teacups, Akaya gushes about how badass he was, stealing that bag of sugar like no big deal. Mizuki glows, feeling eviler than he has in a long while, and decides summoning Akaya isn’t the worst mistake he could have made. In fact, as long as he remembers to put slipcovers on all his furniture, it may be his best mistake ever.


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fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Yukimura/Kirihara
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: Death
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Yukimura survives the surgery because he sold Kirihara’s soul to the devil.
kazucchi: (Default)


[personal profile] kazucchi 2017-05-29 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
moetushie: (nezumi)

Prompt: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] moetushie 2017-05-29 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Mayuzumi Chihiro/Kuroko Tetsuya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: None

Prompt: Actually, Mayuzumi isn't so much a new version of Kuroko as much as he an older, alternate version of him who escaped from his hellish home dimension (where the MiraGen are super-powered gladiators who -- look it's not that interesting) so he could read his damn light novels in peace.
Edited 2017-05-29 12:14 (UTC)
kiyala: (Himuro)


[personal profile] kiyala 2017-06-07 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: selfcest
Word Count: 424


Mayuzumi takes one look at Kuroko, curled up into a ball on the futon beside him, deep in an exhausted sleep, and thinks, poor fucking kid.

He seeks contact as he sleeps, the top of his head pressed against the side of Mayuzumi's leg, not appearing the slightest bit disturbed by the fact that the light is still on. Mayuzumi puts his book down for a moment, shutting it and placing on the floor, just so he can look at Kuroko properly. He's smaller than Mayuzumi is, and younger too. For all that his face might look expressionless to anybody else, Mayuzumi knows his own face, even when it looks this different to his own.

It's lined with sadness, speaking of a life where he's taken responsibility for all the things that the Generation of Miracles did, for all the things that he, personally, couldn't.

At least in this world, the extent of that isn't quite so bad.

(Kuroko has tried questioning him about it, multiple times. There's a hollowness in Mayuzumi's eyes, he says with concern. He doesn't need to bear it alone, no when he has another version of himself to split the burden with—

He's a kid, Mayuzumi thinks to himself every time. He might only be two years younger, but they feel a thousand lifetimes apart. Kuroko's just a kid, and he doesn't deserve to know what his friends are capable of.)

"Mayuzumi-san," Kuroko mumbles, stirring.

"Shh," Mayuzumi replies, patting him on the shoulder. Belatedly, he picks his book back up, doing his best to look like he's been reading all this time.

"I had a dream." Kuroko sits up. "Everyone was there and they were so strong, it was terrifying, it wasn't just basketball any more, it was everything—"

"Sounds boring," Mayuzumi interrupts, pulling Kuroko against him. He thinks of what he could have done with himself, a couple of years ago, and drops a kiss into Kuroko's hair. "It's fine. You'll be fine. Just go to sleep and let me read."

"Do you really like these light novels so much?" Kuroko asks sleepily, leaning into Mayuzumi's arms. "Nothing really happens in them."

I know, Mayuzumi thinks to himself, that's the whole point. Too much has happened already. This is all I want.

"Don't be so dismissive," he says instead. "It's a valid literary form."

Kuroko hums tiredly, sounding so much like Mayuzumi himself for a moment that it throws him off.

With a heavy sigh, Mayuzumi pulls Kuroko's blanket up over his shoulders. "Just go to sleep."
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Abe/Miyuki
Fandom: Big Windup/Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Abe and Miyuki meet up monthly to bitch about pitchers and their egos.
luckycricket33: (team mikiinchou)

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Miyahara, G

[personal profile] luckycricket33 2017-06-08 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: pitchers am i right, oofuri, daiya no ace
Word Count: None

I've wanted this exact scenario for so long Damien
here it is bigger and rebloggabler


fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Takao/Oikawa
Fandom: Kuroko no Basket/Haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: Fantasy historical AU where Takao keeps pulling Oikawa around in a rickshaw.
factorielle: (drae sayz)

PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] factorielle 2017-05-29 12:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kuramochi Youichi /& Miyuki Kazuya
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: brainwashing, amnesia

Prompt: Within The Wires AU
catzuya: (Default)

Re: PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] catzuya 2017-05-29 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)

Re: PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] factorielle - 2017-05-29 12:27 (UTC) - Expand

Re: PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] kitaiichis - 2017-05-29 13:40 (UTC) - Expand
caeslin: (Default)


[personal profile] caeslin 2017-05-29 12:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Fuji Shuusuke/Kawamura Takashi
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: bodily fluids/functions (blood), graphic depictions of violence/gore (mutilation (puncturing the skin))
Other Tags: supernatural elements, bloodplay

Prompt: Kawamura is a vampire. Fuji has a pain kink.

(Note: I had to use the "graphic depictions of violence/gore" tag to get to the "puncturing the skin" tag, but potential fills would not necessarily have to include graphic depictions of violence! Vanilla bloodsucking is A-OK with me.)
yrindor: Head shot of Fuji Shuusuke with his eyes open (Fuji)


[personal profile] yrindor 2017-05-29 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooh, I love this. I'll be back probably.


[personal profile] blueminuet - 2017-05-29 21:22 (UTC) - Expand
hailing: (cheer squad)

PROMPT: Team Daiya no Ace

[personal profile] hailing 2017-05-29 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Okumura Koushuu/Seto Takuma
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: None.
Other Tags: Potential disasters: car crashes

Prompt: Racing AU with two childhood friends
soup: (Default)

Re: PROMPT: Team Daiya no Ace

[personal profile] soup 2017-05-29 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)
why u gotta block me like this

Re: PROMPT: Team Daiya no Ace

[personal profile] hailing - 2017-05-29 14:10 (UTC) - Expand
justlikeswitchblades: (Default)


[personal profile] justlikeswitchblades 2017-05-29 12:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kagami Taiga &/ Midorima Shintarou &/ Akashi Seijuurou
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: violence, death, rape, sexual content
Other Tags: manipulation, power dynamics

Prompt: Berserk AU
Edited 2017-05-29 12:49 (UTC)
nautilics: (sneaky atsumu)

PROMPT: team miyuki kazuya/oikawa tooru

[personal profile] nautilics 2017-05-29 12:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kise Ryota/Kasamatsu Yukio
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: magic AU, loosely based on double arts but not really

Prompt: In which a spell goes wrong and as a result Kise must not, under any circumstances, let go of Kasamatsu's hand.
kitaiichis: (Default)

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

[personal profile] kitaiichis 2017-05-29 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
major tags: none!
other tags: none!
word count: 899

i admittedly have no idea about double arts at all (casually ignored whatever plot points might actually have occurred) but here, lemme give you a some kikasa indulgently holding hands lmao. this entire thing is 100% ridiculous.

also, wow, i have never written kikasa before? try one new thing everyday, i guess


kasamatsu is willing to bet what little money sits in his savings account that hands are not supposed to be this sweaty. or at least, not in any of the photoshoots kise’s done, anyway, and kasamatsu has seen a lot of kise’s photoshoots.

(he’s seen all of them, actually. keeps a copy of every single one in the top drawer of a filing cabinet beside his desk. but that’s beside the point.)

not that kasamatsu will ever admit to hoarding any of kise’s photoshoots. for all kise knows, kasamatsu has simply accepted that indulging kise’s cheerful habit of procuring pictures of himself for kasamatsu--for the team-- is a habit that’s here to stay. he has no qualms with pointing out the current, sweaty state of kise’s hand, however, and he does so with no small amount of smugness.

“my hands are not sweaty,” kise insists. then, at kasamatsu’s raised brow, adds: “senpai.”

“could’ve fooled me,” kasamatsu grins, and kise wails.

(he still doesn’t let go of kasamatsu’s hand. kasamatsu pretends not to feel the way kise grips his hand tighter instead, ridiculously so. it is a little endearing, though. just a little.)

“well, it is what it is,” kasamatsu relents. “so long as your hand doesn’t slip.”

“never,” kise says. he squeezes kasamatsu’s hand again. it’s probably not intentional this time.

kasamatsu squeezes back anyway.

explaining the situation to moriyama and kobori is a lot less funny and a lot more awkward. in an ideal world, kasamatsu wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone--and definitely not to moriyama, who hasn’t once stopped smirking at kasamatsu, not even when kise asked, the portrait of innocence, “won’t your face stick that way if you don’t move, moriyama-senpai?”--but, well.

“we can’t just not tell them,” kise had pointed out, even though kasamatsu is fairly sure this is patently untrue.

“so tell me again: you really can’t let go of each other’s hands.”

moriyama looks like a cat that won an entire year’s worth of cream. kasamatsu wants to deck him.

“we really can’t,” kise confirms. “i’ll die, probably.”

“that’s unfortunate,” kobori hums.

“i’m not going to repeat myself,” kasamatsu says.

moriyama wisely--or unwisely, depending on who’s speaking--ignores kasamatsu. “excellent.”

“still doesn’t explain how this happened, though,” kobori points out.

“it was a spell,” kasamatsu begins, before he pauses, realising he doesn’t actually know what kind of spell it was, exactly. “kise?”

kise smiles, all teeth, and doesn’t answer.

kasamatsu narrows his eyes, fingers squeezing kise’s. it is in no way romantic, and kise’s smile stutters out of place.

“it’s really the present that matters most,” kise tries. “isn’t senpai the one that says not to fixate on the past--”


“--yes, sir.” kise’s smile shifts into one kasamatsu recognises quite well: don’t get mad at me later, okay?

“a love potion,” wheezes moriyama, “a love potion, he says.”

kobori stopped trying to shut moriyama up five minutes ago, putting up a less than valiant effort at pretending he isn’t laughing, too.

“why,” kasamatsu asks nobody in particular.

kise, bolstered by his senpais’ tolerance for stupidity, answers with ease. “valentine’s is coming up really soon, you know! i thought kasamatsu-senpai might need a little help…”

a vein twitches on kasamatsu’s forehead. kise hurries on, stumbling a little over the words as he does.

“...but not too much. just so he can talk. to the girls. because chocolates! valentine’s chocolate.”

kasamatsu is insulted and moved. mostly insulted, he tells himself.

“uh-huh, yukio’s smothered in valentine’s chocolate, after all,” kobori says. kobori is a liar. .

moriyama snorts. kise, oddly, doesn’t respond.

kasamatsu doesn’t give it too much thought. “great. so now you can think about how to un-help me.”

“oh.” kise pauses. it feels like that should mean something. “if you want.”

“it is,” kasamatsu agrees, mostly to talk over the top of moriyama, who had burst into a fresh round of snickering.

somewhere between un-helping attempts four and seven, kasamatsu realises kise’s not the only one whose hand is sweaty. or their palms have been pressed together long enough that kasamatsu can no longer tell the difference.

“senpai,” kise says. he swallows, jaw set. determined.


kobori had kicked himself and moriyama out at attempt number six, citing “minimising the possible collateral” as his excuse before hauling moriyama out the door with him.

so now they’re alone.

and holding hands.

they really shouldn’t have been, as of attempt number seven, but there’s a saying about once bitten, twice shy. or something. someone squeezes their grip, the tiniest show of hesitation. it could’ve been either of them, really.

“on three?” kise asks.

“on three,” kasamatsu says.



a pause. “what if it doesn’t work?”

kasamatsu doesn’t hesitate. “you’ll be fine. if it isn’t, then leave it to me.”

there is absolutely no logic backing up the assurance, but kise doesn’t question it, nodding with a faith that follows the familiarity of a line said many times before, still yet to be proven false.

“one,” kasamatsu whispers. he lets go.

nothing happens. it’s a relief that kasamatsu doesn’t get much time to savour, however, because kise slumps against him almost immediately. “oh,” kise breathes. his fingers find kasamatsu’s, trailing up kasamatsu’s palm slowly, the set of their fingers together less desperate. hopeful, maybe.

“oh,” kasamatsu echoes. he doesn’t let go.
folklore: ₁₇₅₂₈₆₁ ∗ ᴘɪxɪᴠ ⊛ ғᴏʟᴋʟᴏʀᴇ ∗ ᴅᴡ (⚾ ₀₀₉)


[personal profile] folklore 2017-05-29 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Miyuki Kazuya/Narumiya Mei
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: possible drugs/alcohol, blood, violence, sex
Other Tags: angst, probably

Prompt: “I’m an undercover cop that infiltrated the mafia but I love you and I really don’t want you to go down with the rest of them” AU, where Miyuki is the undercover cop and Mei is part of the mafia.
exyankee: (Default)


[personal profile] exyankee 2017-06-07 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
-saving this prompt-!!!!!
foxrocksthesesocksss: (Default)

PROMPT: Team Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

[personal profile] foxrocksthesesocksss 2017-05-29 01:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None

Prompt: In which Takao is the Miracle instead (went to Teikou and everything), and Midorima is his new teammate who once lost to him in Junior High.

i will love you if takao still winds up pulling midorima round in the rickshaw ;w;
hatchbacks: a lime (Default)


[personal profile] hatchbacks 2017-05-29 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: swearing
Word Count: 2392


“I’m here to play shooting guard.”

Midorima’s not here to mince words, dampen the message by saying it’s something he’d like to do. It’s something he’s going to do, something he can return to now that he’s on a strong team. Shutoku’s nationally-ranked forward corps is one of the main reason he’d chosen it for his high school; there is no need for him to play center because he’s the only person over six feet, no need to stick him under the hoop because his teammates can’t grab rebounds or raise their hands in a block. There’s no need to pass the ball out to someone unreliable so they can shoot a three.


Takao Kazunari is, however, wholly unaccounted for. He stands, small but powerful, hair held back by a headband and arms crossed over his chest. Midorima feels his jaw twitch involuntarily, and wills himself not to think about that game—Takao Kazunari, the hawkeye, shooting the ball through the hoop at every angle, passing it out to the forwards, standing tall as one of the Generation of Miracles, as Midorima had fallen.

“Me,” says Midorima, scowling harder and standing taller.

“Hey,” says Ootsubo, stepping between them. “Midorima, aren’t you a forward?”

“That was not my choice,” says Midorima. “There are excellent forwards here; I can play shooting guard.”

“Look,” says Kimura. “Takao is—”

“A brat,” Miyaji finishes. “Look, Kid, Takao, a little competition never hurt anyone, and if you’re as good as you think you are then whatever, but I’ll run you over if you dismiss your teammates. You, too.”

Midorima supposes that last bit is directed at him, and wonders if Miyaji actually means what he says or if his threats are empty (he supposes that since Miyaji’s younger brother hasn’t been decapitated by a pineapple yet he might be safe, but then again he’s not family). Takao’s cocked one eyebrow at Miyaji.

“Look, with all due respect—” Takao starts.

“Nothing respectful ever comes after that,” says Miyaji.

“You’re not helping,” says Kimura.

Midorima would tend to agree, if anyone had asked him, but they all seem to have forgotten he’s there in the first place. He coughs.

“Takao Kazunari,” he says. “I challenge you to a three-point contest.”

“Oh?” says Takao, grinning widely enough for it to look just a little creepy. “A challenge, huh? We’ll see.”

Midorima wouldn’t mind if Miyaji did run Takao over—after Midorima’s beat him, of course. Which, of course, he will. He hasn’t prepared as best he could for in-game three-point situations, but even as a forward he’d continued to take his hundred shots at the end of every practice, increasing them to two hundred after that game where Takao Kazunari had all but laughed in his face. He might dismiss Midorima now, but Midorima’s okay with it if it means he has farther to fall. Midorima pushes up his glasses.

“We should really—” Ootsubo starts.

Kimura claps his hands. “Great! We’ll have it all worked out and then we can get to practice. Here.”

He hands a ball to Takao.

Takao picks his shots, not for distance but for angle—taking his own advantage, which isn’t really fair, but Midorima’s not in the business of fairness. He’s prepared for the situations where Takao’s hawkeye gives him the advantage, and even without vision he has muscle memory, repetition, routine on his side. Takao sinks a shot from the corner; Midorima sinks a shot from the corner. Takao sinks a shot from the other corner; Midorima sinks the same shot. They go around the arc, less than a meter from half-court, each of them sinking every shot.

“Look,” says Ootsubo. “You’re both good. Take a shot from half-court and be done with it.”

Midorima huffs; Takao can keep going but Midorima’s seen him miss a few shots in games (and no, that’s not delight he’d felt at the time when he’d seen it, and he hadn’t been measuring his own shooting percentage against Takao’s, getting it ever-upward not only in a quest for personal perfection but to increase the distance). Midorima doesn’t miss too often, but Takao misses more, and he’d be willing to bet that Takao will miss one of these shots first.

“What if we both make it?” says Takao.

Miyaji rolls his eyes. “Wait until it happens, Brat.”

(Even if this happens—even if Midorima does make it and Takao doesn’t, doesn’t Coach Nakatani make the final decision? Midorima steals a glance at the sidelines, the backups and the players competing for the starting job, the managers, and Coach with his clipboard—perhaps he’s confident in letting them work it out for themselves. But he hasn’t stopped them, and if Midorima wins that’s not a strike against him. Even if it takes longer, he’ll prove the starting job is his.)

Takao takes the shot first, dribbling in place (what does that accomplish?) before taking the J, the arc slow and winding and nearly flat, but almost exactly on target, and in this case almost counts just as well. The ball rolls around the hoop and falls in, bouncing to the floor. One of the backups hurries over and passes the ball back down to Midorima. He picks it up, rolling it in his fingers until he finds the optimal grip. He stands, looks, and shoots. It’s been a long time since he’s watched one of his shots fall from this distance, and while he doesn’t want to let himself admire it the ball looks nice, high and graceful and fast, tumbling from the peak of its arc straight through the peak almost too fast for the netting to even make a sound. That’s something he’d practiced, even after his hundreds of shots, something he’d never dream of doing in a game back on that shitty middle-school team but something maybe he could do here, at Shutoku.

He looks at Takao. Takao’s jaw is open, as if he’s been daydreaming in class (he looks three thousand times less attractive like that, not that Midorima’s ever been quantifying his looks). Is he going to concede? (It’s not conceit but simple fact that Midorima’s shot had been better, prettier, more decisive.)

“One-on-one,” Takao says, finally. “Show me. I don’t care if you’ve got trick shots, try doing them against me.”

Ootsubo looks as if he wants to step in again, but Kimura holds him back. Miyaji crosses his arms; he looks impatient but interested.

“One-on-one,” says Midorima. “First to five points. For the shooting guard position.”

“Done,” says Takao.

Ootsubo does the tipoff; Takao wins it. He dribbles down the court and Midorima gives him a wide enough birth; his arms are long enough and his vertical’s good; if Takao goes to shoot Midorima should be able to stop him, and if he fakes Midorima’s got enough room to recover. Come to think of it, Midorima’s got the natural advantage in a one-on-one—Takao’s secondary skills were all passing-focused, but Midorima’s are blocking and rebounding, things that should translate well enough even when they’re straying far from right under the hoop.

Takao makes a move to shoot; Midorima follows—but just as quickly Takao pivots and shoots from the side; Midorima wonders how it will even go in if it goes over his arm but it does; it streaks right through where his arm had been before he’d started his lean to correct for Takao’s new position, off the backboard and in through the hoop. From the first position Takao had been at a bad angle and he’d known it; the second was his plan all along.

Everyone on the sidelines is cheering; there are some whistles; Midorima sets his jaw. He is not going to let Takao humiliate him like this.

“Concede?” says Takao. “It’s okay if you do.”

“Never,” says Midorima.

They go back the other way; Takao’s in the lead—he’s only got two, but he could win with a three and Midorima knows that all too well. Takao’s aggressive on defense, pushing Midorima back and darting in for the ball; he finally gets tired of faking and lunges in for the steal—Midorima snatches it away from his fingers at the last second and he might as well shoot now. Takao gets up in time for a block attempt, but Midorima shoots it over his fingers. He’s just beyond the arc; this is going in for three.

“I think you’ll find that my so-called trick shots work just as well when someone tries to defend them,” says Midorima.

“It’s still my possession,” says Takao.

Midorima does not plan on letting him get anywhere near three or even two points, but enacting that will be difficult. A challenge, but one he accepts gladly. Takao dribbles down the court, slowly, trying to throw Midorima off. It won’t work. Midorima fakes in; Takao doesn’t flinch. When he moves to shoot, it’s deliberate; it’s beyond the arc and no fake this time, Midorima’s sure. Takao’s going to regret giving him that chance. He leaps. Takao releases the ball at the peak of his jump; Midorima thinks for a second he’s too late but then the ball grazes the top of his fingers and he’s sent it off-course—but when he looks behind him, the ball is traveling toward the hoop regardless. Had Takao planned for that, bet on Midorima changing the trajectory, calculated the arc? Does that vision thing of his do that? Wasn’t the Teikou point guard the one who was supposed to have precognition?

Midorima races toward the hoop; the game might be over but if it’s not he’s going to grab the rebound. The ball lands, hitting the top of the hoop and bouncing up, falling to hit it again and this time bouncing to the left, right toward Midorima. The rebound lands in his hands, secure, the way it has many times before, only this time it’s not on him to pass it out or start something that ends in a layup. Takao’s in front of him, fast enough to guard him with the ball, but Midorima knows he has this. He’s not going to get too secure, but he can take any shot and it will go in. He doesn’t even try to go around Takao, taking a jumper from just inside half-court, close enough where his accuracy jumps a few percentage points. Takao’s blocking attempt is admirable, but he’s too short and even if he’d had a ten-foot vertical the ball’s trajectory is too high and straight. It falls through the hoop; Midorima watches Takao watch it, head twisted and arms still outstretched.

The sound of the spectators brings Midorima back to the present; Takao slowly turns. He looks annoyed, but mostly unreadable; Midorima frowns.

“Well, I guess it’s your win,” says Takao with a sigh.

Midorima nods. “Indeed it is.”

Takao pulls a face. “God, you’re so—whatever.”

“Where’s he going to play?” Miyaji says, walking over with Coach Nakatani.

“Try him at the one,” says Coach. “If it doesn’t work out, we might switch back, but for now we can try Midorima as a shooting guard and Takao as a point guard.”

“And you’d better fucking try,” says Miyaji, turning to Takao. “Don’t just not show up because you want to play another position.”

“Do I look like the type to sabotage my own team?” says Takao.

(Midorima’s inclined to agree with Takao there; as annoying and cocky as he is he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would do that.)

Miyaji shrugs. “Just saying.”


“I don’t remember this part of the bet,” says Takao.

Midorima points to the rickshaw. “You need to improve your jump and your leg strength. Pedal.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Shutoku’s starting shooting guard,” says Midorima, pushing up his glasses. “I need a ride to school.”

“Absolutely not,” says Takao. “This is ridiculous.”

Midorima looks at him. Takao sighs.

“You know, you should have gone somewhere like Teikou. Played with other good players, might have taught you some modesty or something.”

He still gets on the rickshaw and pedals, and Midorima considers it another victory in his column (not that he’s counting, but his lucky item today does happen to be a chalkboard).


They win the first exhibition game against Josei, perhaps in part due to Midorima’s insistence that Takao carry Scorpio’s lucky item, a can of soda. Takao’s passes are crisp; the hawkeye skill lends itself well to his new position even after years of honing it for shooting ability. Midorima’s own shots are accurate; he shoots only threes and leads the team in points, shots, and accuracy (not as high as he’d hoped, but close enough that he decides not to take more than the usual two hundred for extra practice when he gets home).

“That was really something,” says Takao, sitting backwards on the bike seat.

He’s leaning on the handlebars; Midorima wants to say something about not breaking it but Takao’s light enough for it not to work.

“Oh, man,” Takao says. “I don’t know if my legs can take the ride back, though.”

“You’re Generation of Miracles,” says Midorima. “I thought you could do everything.”

It doesn’t come out as bitter as he expects it to, but Takao cocks his head.

“I’m not going to fall for goading, you know. But—c’mere.”

Midorima scoots forward in the back of the rickshaw. Takao sits up, almost pitching forward—is this a trust fall? Is he going to try and get Midorima to pedal?—but then catching himself before his forehead touches Midorima’s. Midorima feels hot all over suddenly, as if he’s back in the middle of the gym, like he needs to take off his jacket. And then Takao’s lips are on his, soft and salty, and Midorima can’t move. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to close his eyes or do something with his mouth, but the kiss is over before he can decide.

“Oh,” he says, numb, when Takao pulls back.

Takao’s smiling at him. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Midorima repeats.

“You can say something else, you know, Shin-chan.”

“Shut up, Takao.”

For once he listens, and the ride home is comfortably silent. Midorima watches Takao’s shoulders as he pedals, already strong and wide enough to stretch the fabric of his warmup jacket just a little.