Bonus Round 4: Quotes

[referees]

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

An oldie but a goodie—in this round, we draw inspiration from famous words said by other people.

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible.

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: "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." -Friedrich Nietzsche
  • The quote can come from almost anything—famous people, poetry, songs, books, movies, etc.— but please don't quote personal conversations you've had or overheard.
  • Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Natsuo & Yuzuko). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Natsuo/Yuzuko). 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.
• Here is a prompt/fill index for your convenience.

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. 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. (Please delete all text in parentheses as you go. LEAVE THE HTML ALONE or the bonus round scoring program can't parse your comment. Don't forget a comment subject!) <strong>Ship:</strong> (the ship your prompt is focused on. "&" indicates a platonic relationship, "/" is non-platonic. Format the ship name any way you want, but clarity is more likely to get you fills.) <strong>Fandom:</strong> (what fandom the ship is from) <strong>Major Tags:</strong> (https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/1609.html, when applicable; these apply to content *in the prompt itself* and is NOT an implication of what you're looking for in a fill. If your prompt doesn't require tags, write "None" here.) <strong>Other Tags:</strong> (anything else that you feel requires tagging; can include jokey tumblr-style tags here; may also pull from the "Additional Tags" list from the URL above, if applicable; otherwise, write "None" here.) <strong>Prompt:</strong>	FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] 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. (Please delete all text in parentheses as you go. LEAVE THE HEADER HTML ALONE or the bonus round scoring program can't parse your comment. Don't forget a comment subject!) <strong>Ship:</strong> <strong>Fandom:</strong> <strong>Major Tags:</strong> (https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/1609.html, when applicable; otherwise write "None".) <strong>Other Tags:</strong> (anything else that you feel requires tagging; can include jokey tumblr-style tags here; may also pull from the "Additional Tags" list from the URL above, if applicable; otherwise, write "None" here.) <strong>Word Count:</strong> (if applicable; otherwise write "None") (Place any author/artist's notes BEFORE the asterisks. Leave the asterisks alone or you may not get points!) *** (Place your fill here. You can use HTML. FOR NSFW FILLS, please cross-link these fills and use clear tags. Refer to the body of the post above for more information. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/>. Thumbnails only, please; more info @ http://referees.dreamwidth.org/5647.html#images ) NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills. Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or 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.	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] 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. (Please delete all text in parentheses as you go. LEAVE THE HEADER HTML ALONE or the bonus round scoring program can't parse your comment. Don't forget a comment subject!) <strong>Ship:</strong> <strong>Fandom:</strong> <strong>Major Tags:</strong> (https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/1609.html, when applicable; otherwise write "None".) <strong>Other Tags:</strong> (anything else that you feel requires tagging; can include jokey tumblr-style tags here; may also pull from the "Additional Tags" list from the URL above, if applicable; otherwise, write "None" here.) <strong>Word Count:</strong> (if applicable; otherwise write "None") (Place any author/artist's notes BEFORE the asterisks. Leave the asterisks alone or you may not get points!) *** (Place your fill here. You can use HTML. FOR NSFW FILLS, please cross-link these fills and use clear tags. Refer to the body of the post above for more information. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/>. Thumbnails only, please; more info @ http://referees.dreamwidth.org/5647.html#images ) NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills. Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or 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.

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 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.

Etc.

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!

Comments

Re: PROMPT: TEAM KUROO TETSUROU/SAWAMURA DAICHI

[kythen]

-CLUTCHES HEART-

Prompt: Team Grandstand

[babster]

Ship: Oikawa Tooru/Kuroo Tetsurou
Fandom: Haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt:
"Dear Applicant, We regret to inform you that Guinness no longer publishes the world record for “World's Tiniest Ass”, because it was too sad" -@dril

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Miyahara, T

[elucidatedlucy]

Ship: Hiyama Chinatsu/Ishido Natsuo
Fandom: Ballroom e Youkoso, Teppu
Major tags: Mention of death/murder
Other tags: Sci-fi, More concepts to build upon, but how i love this prompt and these girls being Themselves
Word count: 508



***

In a dance, someone must lead.

It's not much different in a fight.

Natsuo's fingers could reach the ceiling if she bounced, maybe, but her back arches like she does nothing but look down on others. Chinatsu keeps her hands close and her chin high. It's foolish, she recognizes, but she's not that tall. She's tall enough for boys to have snickered at her before, and tall enough for girls to hide eyes behind bangs, tall enough to be perfect, and not at all.

This girl towers over most average boys around, and Chinatsu thinks - she could like that, if not for the constant sarcastic smile when she spoke.

But it was never right to hide one's true feelings. "Your manners suck."

Something she had noticed about Ishido Natsuo was that - she didn't stare at people. She stared through them, and it made Chinatsu question if she noticed her at all. If she was so perceptive when no one sat next to her. How Natsuo's eyes float over and around her, now, make Chinatsu change her mind. It's not that she isn't perceptive - and probably, she doesn't notice most people. It's like an internal wince to recognize another person as being both.

"Cute," Natsuo says. "You must be the observant one."

Outside the window, Earth grows small. Like a pinprick. Like the edge of her heel when she stabs through a broken stair.

"Of course," Chinatsu lies.

Neither of them ask each other why they are here. Agreeing to this. But Chinatsu is less than grateful she is with someone else from Japan, having the misfortune of understanding every word, every glance sent askew around their makeshift metal home. When the opportunity came up - when Miss Marisa's dear pro dancers couldn't be afforded for such a program - it only made sense to send the best that no one cared about.

She should have figured she'd be stuck with someone too much like herself. It might have been better if it was Tatara, at this point - at least she could bring herself to feel bad about wanting to open up the rear hatch if it meant killing what amounted to a puppy.

"What do you do," Natsuo says. It's a slur, in her mouth, as though she's tired. Calculated.

"Ballroom dance," she answers. "Lead and follow."

It's unpleasantly quiet. Chinatsu knew space would be, but even the thrusters don't make enough sound. For how much they could skimp on comfort, the one thing the sponsors gave them was time to think about what they were doing. Assholes.

"You're not going to ask me?" Natsuo asks - this time, like a joke. Like anything could hurt her. It makes Chinatsu snort.

"Why would I need to ask about what I already know?" Chinatsu says it with too much pride, and Natsuo's teeth glisten.

"I don't know," she says. "Why would I?"

Girls sent out to space, to rip each other to shreds with the claws of victory. Chinatsu smiles back. "I don't lose, Ishido."

"What a coincidence. I can't seem to manage it either."

Re: FILL: Team Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, G

[kythen]

Tfw you're very small and very gay and the girl you've had a crush on forever kisses you. Oh, Yachi. I'm glad you liked it! c:

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

[kitaiichis]

Ship: kuramochi/miyuki
Fandom: daiya no ace
Major Tags: none!
Other Tags: aged up characters, a nebulous post-canon where kuramochi & miyuki grow up & apart, so slight Angst for that i guess
Word Count: 618

hi this prompt hurt me a lot but it's a very good prompt! kind of a loose interpretation that got highly influenced by writing with this on repeat (also recommended listening while reading for that, like, added Sads)

***


He finds Miyuki between aisles six and seven. A plastic floor sign rests beside him, shiny yellow and too-bright beneath the fluorescent lighting. Please watch your footing, it says, but of course Miyuki isn’t, too focused on staring at whatever’s in his hand to pay attention to anything else.

Kuramochi pays attention, though, ducking neatly between Miyuki and the sign before Miyuki can look up from his shopping list–he’s handwritten a shopping list–to notice Kuramochi only metres away, deliberating between tuna mayonnaise and salmon roe rice balls behind him.

Kuramochi hasn’t seen Miyuki in almost three years.



This is what Kuramochi doesn’t say:

“Need a hand?” he’ll ask. Miyuki will look up, glasses askew, eyes alight with surprise, the shape of his mouth open but not unhappy.

“Are you offering,” Miyuki will reply, and Kuramochi will swipe the shopping list from his hands in lieu of an answer. “Grab a basket, idiot,” he’ll call over his shoulder, and Miyuki will laugh. Since Kuramochi’s back is turned, he won’t see it. But he’ll hear it. He’ll hear it, and he’ll know.



If it were anyone else, Kuramochi wouldn’t have thought twice before calling out to Miyuki, laughing about the coincidence of running into each other at the same convenience store in Yokohama on a Thursday afternoon, cities away from Seidou or koshien or–or any of it, really.

If it were anyone else, Kuramochi might’ve known they still shared the same neighbourhood, or maybe shared the same neighbourhood. Might have recognised the same city streets he himself walks whenever the question So what’s Miyuki up to now? comes to mind.

Kuramochi doesn’t think about how often the question comes to mind.

Because Miyuki, for better or worse, has never been just ‘anyone else’. Clenching his jaw, Kuramochi grabs the two rice balls closest to him and heads back towards the counter. Miyuki steps to the side to let Kuramochi pass, sneakers knocking against the floor sign. From the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Miyuki start, turning to finally notice the sign. Please watch your footing. Above him, the lights blink once, the briefest flicker of shadow.

Kuramochi is sliding change across the counter as the first drops of rain hit the glass doors, sliding open to the grey of early evening and the muted sounds of rain. He hears the shop assistant greet the next customer paying at the counter, but the doors slide shut before Kuramochi can hear a reply.



This is what Kuramochi doesn’t see:

Miyuki squints at the list in his hands, blurry words written in familiar hand. Someone’s footsteps approach from behind, and he steps to the side, letting them pass. His sneaker knocks against something, and Miyuki turns, registering the familiar shape of the sign with a small, wry grin.

Whoever just passed is gone when Miyuki looks up again, an indistinct silhouette beyond the ssshh of the sliding doors, muffled by the sound of rain. Something in the set of the silhouette’s shoulders holds his attention if not his sight, and Miyuki thinks of the glasses he’s yet to pick up with their new, updated prescription.

As it is, all Miyuki really catches is the yellow of a hoodie, obnoxious and flashy, and a brushstroke of not-quite-green. Miyuki thinks he’s seen it somewhere before. Miyuki also thinks his eyes aren’t seeing very clearly, let alone correctly. He hopes whoever it is had an umbrella with them–he certainly hadn’t seen that.

Turning towards the counter, Miyuki remembers it’s what he’d meant to buy, himself: an umbrella. It wouldn’t do to be caught out alone in the rain, after all.

Re: FILL: Team Himuro Tatsuya/Nijimura Shuuzou, T

[cherrysalmon]

jhdkhshk DONT DIE /revives u

im just!!! scotty im yelling too this comment wehh ;o; dfkjshjdjh i'm really glad, i was just recently wanting to rewatch bc i saw other people doing it and this idea just crept up on me sO I GUESS PSYCHIC LINK MAYBE YEAH. yyh is so good...mayuaka too...is ko'd with u

<333 thank you for this comment its so nice _(:"3/

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, G

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Akashi/Midorima
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 414

***

“Don’t you miss Tokyo?”

“Hmm,” says Akashi.

It’s contemplative, though he’s doubtless already made up his mind, made his own feelings known to himself, because he’s Akashi and that’s how he thinks. Kyoto is nice, old-fashioned, in some ways suited to Akashi, who looks as good in a basketball uniform, in a suit, as he does with his feet in geta, draped over a shogi table in the park, old architecture in the background. Midorima could never live in a place like this; it’s a lovely city but he needs the particular lights and sounds to fall asleep; his routine is so firmly entrenched in Tokyo that if he ever moves away—well, adjustments are always hard, but this would be harder.

“There are people there I miss,” says Akashi, turning toward the pond.

Autumn leaves, rich red-green-browns, are floating across it, skimming the surface on the wind, curled dry into little boats. Midorima swallows; he thinks—hopes—Akashi means him.

“A certain someone,” says Akashi, placing his hand on Midorima’s upper arm, sliding over Midorima’s bicep.

Midorima swallows again. “Oh.”

“But, the city itself, not really,” says Akashi, his fingers dropping down to entwine with Midorima’s, nails scraping over the fresh bandages. “It’s home, but here is home too. I used to come to the family house here every summer, when I was very small. I don’t remember it all too well, and maybe it’s just false nostalgia.”

“So all your memories here are good?”

“As a net result, I suppose. Though, Tokyo…”

Basketball victories, Teikou, perhaps their first kiss. Memories that are vivid and full to Midorima, perhaps embellished by his imagination with a few years’ distance, but held close and careful all the same, even among the bad memories, Akashi playing against Murasakibara, losing in the Winter Cup, difficulties at Shutoku—those are all eclipsed right now, by Akashi, here, standing in front of him. But this isn’t Tokyo, though perhaps Midorima’s memories are less categorized, by place or by other means, than Akashi.

“I hope you’re not overthinking it, Shintarou.”

“I probably am.”

Akashi turns toward him, away from the water, smiling. A red eclipse, a blood moon, Midorima thinks. And then Akashi pulls him down into a kiss, soft and full, blanking his thoughts, clearing the overclocked, overthought concepts and metaphors and ideas strung together like lights on a wire. All Midorima’s thinking of is Akashi, here, now, longer, the future, the two of them. Anywhere.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 421

***

The innocent are marvelous, Makoto thinks. It’s so easy to bend them to his will, to fool them into thinking he’s a perfect little angel, a nice boy, a dutiful son. He barely had to wiggle his fingers to get out what he wants, a recommendation for a prestigious program, all the playing time he wants and almost as much as he knows what to do with, control over most of the basketball team.

Except Imayoshi. He is not naive, not innocent, recognizes talent and cunning where he sees it because he’s got some of his own. Not enough to be a threat, but more than enough to be a pest, a mosquito buzzing in the air around Makoto’s head, too far away to squish, Makoto clapping his hands loudly and ending up with attention on him and a quiet mosquito not squished disgustingly between his palms (but he feels as if he should wash the dirt off anyway). Imayoshi is the opposite of marvelous; he’s horrible; he makes things a little more challenging but not in a pleasant way. It would be better if he were an opponent, analyzing behind those nerdy glasses of his, saying shitty things that Makoto can explain away as due to jealousy. Then, Makoto could take pleasure into smashing an elbow into his face, breaking those stupid glasses, breaking in his nose, hearing the rip of the cartilage. Satisfaction.

Pushing Imayoshi away from this angle is hard; he’s too close in like some guy guarding him, stupidly unafraid, but Makoto can’t figure out how to get away, how to hold him at a length far away enough to do anything about him. He’s fucking annoying; it’s not as if Makoto can fake the foul and get the call, take the two frees and make them, and even if he does it’s because Imayoshi’s letting him (as if Makoto needs any help from that guy).

The worst part is when he acts like their pals, breathing on Makoto’s ear, lowering his voice like he’s trying to flirt. As if Makoto would fall for someone like that, as if Makoto would fall for anyone at all. Please. Middle school so-called romance is so trite.

Makoto repeats those words in his head, a mantra as Imayoshi kisses him, lips a dissonant non-slimy texture, mouth wet and hot. This is stupid, but maybe this is the area in which Imayoshi’s naive enough to think something stupid, like that Makoto might fall for him despite his better judgement.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Aomine/Kuroko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 433

***

Falling in love is simple, easy; it happens like lightning, quick and out of nowhere. Dealing with the fallout isn’t easy, at least not if you’re Aomine, loving Kuroko, but he can push it aside. He can pretend that they live in a world where it’s fine to fall in love with another guy who plays basketball for another school, maybe not pretend too hard and think about futures, government-sanctioned domestic partnerships, marriages, family registries. That stuff’s ugly and big and legal, a roadblock that doesn’t stand in the way of the two of them existing, being, living together right now—but it’s something Kuroko begins to extract himself from and Aomine can’t entirely blame him.

Who wants to be with someone who’s going to bolt for a job playing basketball overseas as soon as he can, a country where this stuff is legal but not necessarily accepted, not among professional athletes? Aomine can say he doesn’t give a shit what people think of him, and to a large extent that’s true, but not entirely. And it doesn’t mean Kuroko doesn’t care what people think of him, that Kuroko wouldn’t mind, that Kuroko, eager to take blame and credit, would internalize anything that might happen to Aomine.

It’s lose-lose, a hopeless love, reciprocated but not to the extent where they’re both willing to conquer everything, where they both have enough faith, hope, strength, to make it conquer everything, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, something that eats itself, a stupid insect that can’t feel any pain chomping on its own tail.

Falling in love is easy; it happens so quickly without trying. Falling out of love, though, is hard; even deliberately they can't extract themselves from this; even when Kuroko’s trying to martyr himself it’s hard for him. It’s hard to give up what now is so precious, so beautiful, so rare; they know it’s going to end sooner or later but neither of them can bring themselves to pull the trigger. They’re both fucking cowards; they’re both afraid to show the world, afraid to hide it; they love each other too much to let go, too much to keep going, not enough but too much to fall out of love, fold it up like a card table and tuck it under their arms and go.

If only it were easy; if only this were a hopeful kind of love; if only some part of it was simple and soft, easy to dig their fingers into, something they shouldn’t let go of. But if wishes were worth anything, they’d be rich already.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, G

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Umi/Eli
Fandom: Love Live!
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 487

***

There are chocolates in Umi’s locker on Valentine’s Day, from fans she supposes; they’re mostly from the ones who buy or make things for all of the school idols. It’s nice to be part of a team, this even moreso than the sports she does (it’s just her and the weapon, even though all of her teammates contribute to the overall standing; in the end she has to stand alone and hold her strength; here there are eight other girls on the stage with her, singing and dancing and supporting each other, a unit).

She hasn’t made chocolates for anyone this year; perhaps she should have (Nico is still bragging about the ones Kotori had made her, even though Kotori had made boxes for everyone, each given with a smile and a lovely card). She’s still thinking about it, that perhaps something small for everyone would have been good, that she’d had time, when she's in the club room, alone for the moment when the door opens and she smells Eli’s perfume.

“Umi, I was hoping to find you.”

This must be about the new music, each of them learning their parts.

“You’re so quiet; it’s easy for us not to appreciate all you do for us,” says Eli.

Umi wraps her hand in the fabric of her schoolbag. “Please, I—”

Eli waves her off, delicate, beautiful; Umi hopes she’s not staring. “Thank you, Umi.”

She slides a small box into Umi’s palm and then leans across and kisses her, tasting of cherry cordial chocolate. Umi almost drops the box; she’s not moving her lips; this is all too fast. Eli winks.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

*

It’s never mentioned again; they have no alone time together and Umi wonders if Eli is doing that intentionally, surrounding herself with student council affairs and family stuff and working on more shows and setting up practice. Soon enough it’s March; they’re doing a White Day performance as a gift to all of their fans, and all of the chocolate Nico’s still eating. The night before, Eli’s quite firm about all of them resting, even though she knows most of them are going to end up ignoring that.

Umi stays up making chocolate, not as fancy as the expensive store-bought stuff Eli had bought her, but hopefully with a clear meaning. She waits in the club room at lunch, singing the new song in her head to make sure she’s got it all memorized.

Eli is alone when she enters, and she smiles at Umi.

“Here,” Umi says, pushing forward the small box she’s kept tucked carefully in her bag all morning. “I made this for you.”

“Umi!”

“And, um. In return,” says Umi, standing up and clumsily putting her hand on Eli’s shoulder, leaning forward.

This kiss is better; Eli’s lips are less sweet but her mouth is more responsive and Umi’s is, too. When they break apart, they’re both smiling.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Aomine/Kuroko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 409

***

Sometimes, Aomine thinks he’d give his soul—what’s left of it, anyway, whatever the fuck it’s worth, screwed-up and twisted and full of regret and an ocean of turmoil, hurricanes within hurricanes—just to have any of it back. By any of it, he means Kuroko, of course, because that’s the only thing that matters, the thing that’s tied up in everything else. Basketball, team, connection, none of that matters without Kuroko; none of that’s worth shit if Kuroko doesn’t want him.

Okay, Aomine knows that’s not true; he’s being melodramatic about a subject that’s already halfway to melodrama without any of that, but still. If he’s got a soul (maybe he’d already sold it, even younger and stupider than he had been when he’d said all that shit to Kuroko when he had) he’d give it all up, become some kind of hollower entity, just to get Kuroko back, just to have a little longer with him, to go back and be forced to go through Teikou all over again, the endless fire and pouring rain, cold, colder, coldest, if he could hold it off to tell Kuroko how much he’d meant to him, even if it’s pushing him away.

There's no end in sight to this bullshit, no cure; he’s doomed to be this shitty forever, alone with basketball, with Kuroko unreachable, across a chasm, behind an unbreakable glass wall that Kuroko can’t hear Aomine through.

It’s like that until it isn’t, anyway, until Kagami fucking falls through the glass on his own, pushed by Kuroko in an effort, something that says he wants to reach Aomine, too, bitter and miserable jerkass that he’s become. something that says he may not want Aomine back but he wants that possibility, and maybe Aomine’s deluding himself but if it helps him get somewhere what the hell’s wrong with that?

And then Kuroko’s standing, reachable; he’s too fucking stubborn and grudging to make the first move, but Aomine’s not too proud to reach out, to wait for Kuroko to take his hand held steady.

“I’d have made a deal with the devil to get you back,” Aomine says later.

“I hope you didn’t sign anything,” says Kuroko. “But wasn’t it easier this way?”

Aomine doesn’t know about easy, but he’s glad anyway; it’s more than he ever could have hoped for, everything he was afraid to admit he’d really wanted, better than anything the devil could have given him.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, G

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Akashi/Midorima
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 414

***

The first time Akashi sees him, he’s by himself, a basketball in his hands. He’s taller than most of the other first-years, bright green hair and glasses, steel in the way he holds his face, soft cheeks and big eyes and all.

“Shoot,” says the coach, and Midorima does, a beautiful arc—something that Akashi knows, by intuition, will become something greater than this already-nearly-perfect thing, falling through the hoop and catching none of the hoop or backboard. Again and again he shoots the ball, different spots on the court, the same motion every time, the same way it falls through the hoop. This, this boy, determined and quiet, sparks something inside of Akashi that nothing else has.

That nothing else does. Akashi begins to time the drive to school so that he enters through the gates the same time as Midorima, so that he can look up at those pleasant, pretty features and talk about basketball, or Midorima’s other interests (shogi, music, or the large objects he carries around, apparently astrology—everyone’s entitled to their quirks, and on Midorima this is a little bit cute). Maybe, Akashi thinks, this is love, or something like it, its predecessor, the thing that will, as they keep going, beget love if they stay entwined.

On the court, he trusts Midorima the most; his shots are the surest and his determination the fiercest, his adherence to his own code the strongest. Aomine is wild; Murasakibara pretends not to care; Haizaki might actually not care. Midorima accepts the challenge, the honor, for what it is, and Akashi loves him even more for it.

“Midorima, do you think,” Akashi starts, and then stops.

Midorima waits, eyes wide, eyelashes so thick they cast shadows on his cheeks under the fluorescent lights and the magnification of his glasses. Akashi does not get nervous; Midorima’s affections in return are clearer than a freshly-dusted chandelier.

“Do yoyu think you would like to go out with me?”

Midorima’s mouth falls open; his tongue is so pretty. Midorima nods, rapid; his bangs swing over his face (they’re getting a little long, maybe; still they’re beautiful as they are).

Akashi’s never kissed anyone before; Midorima doesn’t have the same kind of confidence here as he does in his basketball. But he wants, and Akashi wants, too; he can’t get enough of this. And even for him, the future isn’t definite, but Akashi can’t see ever not wanting this, ever not wanting Midorima.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 466

***

Makoto’s a liar, habitual, impulsive; it had taken Shouchi longer than usual to figure out when he’s lying and when he’s not, or when he believes what he’s saying even if it’s not necessarily true (like the hatred and loathing he claims to have for Shouchi; Makoto’s a decent liar but he’s best at fooling himself, the way his eyes follow Shouchi on the court and the way he waits to talk to him betraying the—not necessarily admiration, but something like that, deep inside). Sometimes Shouchi calls him on that shit; sometimes he’s too tired of it; even if these aren’t battles anyone wins he’s got to pick them (and it’s funny how carefully Makoto sees him choosing them, when really it’s when he feels like it, when he thinks he can get to Makoto a little more than usual, nothing more than that).

Makoto’s a liar; he’s got a hell of a lot more than two faces, one for every person he’s with, juggled seamlessly as if he’s showing off his intellectual prowess (as if he needs to, but Makoto wouldn’t be himself if he weren’t a showboat). He’ll fuck you up, pretend to be someone he’s not, but if you look closely enough you can see him before he stabs someone else in the back, gets them pushed out like everyone on the basketball team, like the old coach, like the teachers who for some reason unknown to them dislike him (he makes them uneasy, but they say he seems like a good kid).

He’s worse by high school, whirling around and striking people in the head, knee, chest, shoulder, taking them down like a system, like a catalogue full of check-marks, one by one, his five little accomplices standing behind him. Shouchi's smart enough to know that Makoto’s not pulling the strings completely; they listen and respect him but they’re their own kinds of agents of chaos and violence, the difference in a game.

Somehow, Harasawa ropes the Touou kids into an exhibition after the season, the group of them, now captained by Shouichi, against the group of kids led in every sense by Makoto. Shouichi starts out wary, but Makoto seems as if he’s still pretending to hate Shouichi, muttering things under his breath.

Shouchi can see him coming but he can’t stop it, the crack of his ankle against Makoto’s foot, the way Makoto stares him in the eyes. He falls to the floor; the pain is sharp and it’s probably a sprain, only a few weeks, maybe—but Makoto’s smirking.

“I’m honored you respect me so much.”

The smile turns into a scowl, and then the fakest look of concern Shouichi’s ever seen as the ref rushes over.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” says Imayoshi. “I’m pretty good.”

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 447 words

Stalking, underage, obsessive behavior. See also: don’t play with Hanamiya’s heart.


***

Hanamiya, Imayoshi learns during their middle school years, is an all-or-nothing boy. People miss that because they don't understand that Hanamiya's goals are different to most people's. What Hanamiya wants, he will pursue relentlessly. What Hanamiya pursues, he will get even if he has to kill everyone in his path and carve a new road through a mountainside.

There is no compromise in Hanamiya, no willingness to accept a lesser prize.

He is like this when it comes to grades, where he stays on the honor roll seemingly effortless. He is like this when it comes to basketball where he studies his teammates and how best to create a spider's web that no opponent can esacpe. He is like this when it comes to love, where he sets his sights on Imayoshi and lays siege to his heart like an experienced General instead of a child of twelve.

What he wants, he gets - and what he gets, he will not let go.

*

"How will we manage when you to go to Touou Academy?" Hanamiya asks, sprawled over Imayoshi's bed, languid in the afterglow.

"What do you mean, Makoto-chan?" Imayoshi asks in response, twirling a lock of Hanamiya's hair around a finger. He knows, of course. He always knows. But he needs Hanamiya to say his lines so Imayoshi can say his; skipping ahead to the end won't work if he doesn't soften Hanamiya up first.

"Well. Do I come and visit you? Do you tell people I'm your little brother to get me into the dorms? You can't keep isiting back here, people will think it's odd, but we have to meet somehow." Hanamiya's words are perfectly reasonable and perfectly predictable.

"You won't come and visit me, Makoto-chan. This was just a teenage fling. It was fun while it lasted, but it's over now." Imayoshi pets Hanamiya's cheek, aware of how easy it would be for Hanamiya to bite him, and smiles down at the boy. "You should find some nice girl to love instead."

"I don't want a nice girl. I want you." Not love. Want. Hanamiya avoids the word 'love' as if it's acid in his mouth.

*You'll get over it," Imayoshi says breezily and kisses Hanamiya's forehead, already practicing for their farewell.

*

The first week at Touou Academy is exactly what Imayoshi expects.

Hanamiya breaking into his room late Saturday night is also what Imayoshi expects.

Hanamiya won't give up on what's his. Imayoshi's his first love and will be his last and only love.

Imayoshi's resigned himself to that and so when he sees Hanamiya waiting half-defiantly, half-uncertainly on his bed, he simply smiles and asks, "What took you so long?"

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 472

***

You’re going to regret something, Imayoshi reckons. Like his parents regret not doing the expansion on the house while they'd still had the money, before they’d squandered it lending to Imayoshi’s wasteful aunt because they’d had no excuse not to and she’s family. His mother regrets getting stuck at a shitty job; his father regrets not making the right investments; Imayoshi’s heard it’s better to regret things you’ve done rather than the things you haven’t. As a child he’d wondered if it wasn’t better to have no regrets at all. How fucking naive of him, but then, there’s only one way to really learn.

Perhaps it’s better to have the right regrets, a set of things that had turned out all right or the best they could despite the wrong choices. That’s a little bit too optimistic, though; it’s closer to truth to say that life goes and flows, and you’ll be stuck somewhere. IT’s better not to think about the rocks that had shredded you a kilometer or so back because you’ve got to make it through the white water up ahead.

Or maybe Imayoshi’s just saying that to make himself feel better, because his eyesight sucks and his foresight’s not much better, and even if he could go back and do it all again there’s no way things would have worked out with Hanamiya. He’d wanted too much, thought he could have the universe, gently correct Hanamiya’s actions, move him away from the path he’d been walking, the horrible thing he’d been trending toward. Imayoshi would be a shitty moral guardian now; he’s no saint—and if anyone’s playing devil’s advocate (a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously close to Susa’s) they’d ask him if Hanamiya was not the better of the two of them, since Imayoshi’s trying and wanting something that will never be. But back then, he’d been a worse choice; he’d assumed Hanamiya wouldn’t guess what he was doing, wouldn’t dump him and tell him it’s not his job to be a self-righteous asshole and that Hanamiya could find his own way, thanks very much (and that he was a better basketball player, which even then had already been true).

He doesn’t regret wasting his energy on an attempt, but he’s not sure if he hadn’t tried he’d regret not doing it. Maybe there’s no right choice; maybe this is a video game with no good end, or at least he’d split off the best path too far long ago to figure out when. But either way, wherever the two of them are, even if they never reconcile any of this, life will continue, the plans for the addition to the house swept away, the bank account balance in reality becoming what Imayoshi’s used to seeing, even if he’d rather it were a little higher.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya, Hanamiya&Kirisaki Daiichi
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 411

***

“I’m not in love,” Hanamiya says, practically spitting the words.

He hates Imayoshi’s guts; as trite as it is to say that means deep down they love each other it’s not fucking true. So they fool around sometimes, so Imayoshi’s fun to mess with (except when he thinks he can get away with messing with Hanamiya). That’s got nothing to do with love and romance; even if it did if it was them it would be a mockery.

This feeling is like having his throat cut, blood spilling over and choking, the ay Imayoshi looks at him, a nasty smell like his guts being pulled out of him with Imayoshi’s bare hands wrapped in his intestines. There are no roses and chocolates and tender things, spoken lovingly or even sarcastically.

“Of course you’re not,” says Hara. “You just talk about your boyfriend, Imayoshi, all the damn time—”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“And how much you hate him, how he makes you feel things that aren’t the urge to elbow someone in the head,” says Seto. “It’s cute, Makoto; you’re growing up.”

“Shut the hell up. Who says I don’t want to elbow you in the head?”

“Not as much as you want to kiss Imayoshi,” says Hara, and then he starts to make kissy noises.

Why does Hanamiya let these people hang out with him? Basketball, maybe, but even outside of that. His cheeks are getting hotter, but it’s only because he’s angry with Hara for acting like a small child, ten at best. This is not love; this is just amusement and loathing, mixed together all funny, quickly tipping over the way it feels in a flash. Like, again, his throat being slit, the life going out of him (except, maybe, the opposite effect).

“I’m not in love!”

“If you weren’t you wouldn’t talk about it so much,” says Yamazaki.

Furuhashi’s somehow got a hold of Hanamiya’s phone; Hanamiya lunges for it but Furuhashi ducks. “He’s sending you hearts and you haven’t deleted them or given a concussion.”

“Why the fuck do you have my phone?”

“Thought it was mine.”

“You’re reading my text messages!”

“I was going to text myself to find my phone.”

“You have a different brand!”

“That’s off-topic,” says Hara. “Just admit it Hanamiya, you love your boyfriend so much; you want to hug him and kiss him and marry him and make love—”

Hanamiya pushes him off the bleachers; Hara smirks all the way down.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Akashi/Mayuzumi, past Akashi/Kuroko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 454

***

Every bad ending is a learning opportunity, an opportunity to start anew and fresh with no mistakes. That’s conventional wisdom, but before Kuroko Akashi makes no mistakes (none, at least, that are not small enough to cover up quickly, and if no one sees them they’re not real mistakes). Rakuzan feels like an opportunity, to win at the high school level with a different group of talented individuals, ones who are already used to finding room for all three of them in the hierarchy, elbowing each other aside or holding each other up. It’s no less of a challenge, but it’s one less thing to worry about when it comes to the missing piece.

There’s no missing piece to Akashi; the thought that when those he cares for leave him they take some of him is foolish. He is not the same person, but he has not given them any of himself (as much as they have tried to take). The next will be no different; the next will want to take, try to take, fixate himself around Akashi the way Kuroko had not (always reaching for a brighter flameout, always reaching for something beyond himself). There’s a line between that and satisfaction with one’s own lot, and, well, Mayuzumi Chihiro treads it already.

It’s simple, to form on him who has no form, tar and feathers and shadow, shadow which is still not a concrete form but more like water, fitting to the shape of its container. This container is that of Akashi’s companion, not slavishly devoted, not made entirely in Kuroko’s image, but taking the good parts of him, the things Akashi wants back. The dispassionate glances, stuck onto his face, the want pushed into him, from the tips of Akashi’s fingers. Want, greed, but not too much, not so much it veers into entitlement and self-righteousness and easy grief.

Mayuzumi, New Mayuzumi, is better. He stands out even less than Old Mayuzumi, ordinary, plain, nose in a book, had. And he is good at basketball; he can pass and shoot and steal; the best part of his game is not how much he loves it. It’s about how well-trained he already is, fitting into the Rakuzan machine without any need to accommodate him, filling the spaces between the walls and Nebuya’s meaty elbows, Hayama’s foot, Mibuchi’s long fingers, Akashi’s presence. He was created to fill this, and nothing else; he is not expendable; he is the shadow, silhouetted by four candles burning bright.

His kiss is mock-submissive, just the right amount of sarcasm and just the right amount of want, desire, for Akashi—not as a tool, as something tied to basketball. But as Akashi, as he is.

Re: FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Miyahara, T

[babster]

ahh, thank you! i was really hoping someone would do chinatsu/natsuo, and this is really great. the opening lines are wonderful and i love natsuo looking through people and i'm very curious about the world that led up to this. thank you!

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

[kitaiichis]

Ship: kuramochi/miyuki
Fandom: daiya no ace
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: POV second person (works best if you imagine miyuki as the 'you')
Word Count: poetry fill, 29 lines

you: i saw the sunset forty-four times--
me: oh, like when seidou lost against inashiro & miyuki spent forever re-watching the match footage

***

–he is calling your name. he is calling
your name & you should answer
but you don’t, because the game is still happening
the game has not stopped happening
the game is the only thing stuttering forwards

in this room, pixelated & grainy
on the club room TV
a fraying thread of light navigating
the red-wire blue-wire network of your mind.

stop.

–he is calling your name. he is calling
your name & you should answer
but you won’t, your voice
a frequency too close to static
white noise conversations

wrong words at the right time
suspended mid-air, fraught
against the back of your throat

stop.

–he is calling your name. he is calling
your name & you should answer
but you can’t, the distance between
you alight, a livewire of almosts
or a series of pre-meditated farewells

a chain reaction of misinterpretations
the translation of kindness
as selfishness. if everything ends
ends alone: cause or effect

stop–

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya + Hanamiya & Hinata/Kageyama
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke, Haikyuu
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 433 words

Implied domestic violence though knowing Hanamiya and Imayoshi, it was probably just kinky rough sex. Also emotional manipulation.


***

"That looks awful!" The little redhead said, leaning in and eyeing the scar on Hanamiya's throat. He reached up and traced over it with unsteady fingers, eyes glazed and a little hazy behind the sunglasses.

He was very drunk, Hanamiya judged. Why else would he be wearing sunglasses inside a bar? The calloused touch of his fingers gave away he was an athlete of some sort though he was so short that Hanamiya had trouble imagining what he could play. Ping Pong, perhaps? It was tennis for little people.

Hanamiya tilted his head a litte, just enough to show off the fading bruises near the corner of his mouth where one of Imayoshi's punches had landed poorly.

As soon as the redhead saw it, he gasped, his free hand flying up to his mouth. "What happened to your mouth?"

His rich brown eyes fixed anxiously on Hanamiya's face, the small redhead radiating concern. "Is someone beating you up?"

"My boyfriend can be a litte moody," Hanamiya said, ducking his head and letting his eyelids lower in feigned shame. "It's not really a big deal."

"Yes, it is!" The boy insisted. He took Hanamiya's hand within both of his and squeezed tightly. "If someone's hurting you, you shouldn't stay with them! You should tell the police! Come on. You can come with me ad Tobio right now. We'll take you to the police and help you move your things out-- do you have anywhere to stay? If not, you can live with us!"

Hanamiya bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from laughing at the boy's naivete. How could he invite someone he'd just met to move in with him? He had no idea who Hanamiya even was!

He caught sight of Imayoshi returning towards him and gave a quick, warning shake of his head which the redhead misinterpreted as being for him.

"No, really! It'll be okay." He beamed up at Hanamiya, perfectly confident in the role of self-assigned protector. "You do't have to live like this, you know. You're very handsome. There'll be plenty of other men out there who'll love you and treat you right."

Oh? Was that a hint of attraction in the boy's words? Breaking up happy couples was more of a sideline for Hanamiya rather than his main form of entertainment but he might be willing to devote himself to this case full time. The redhead was cute and living with them would be an interesting way to spend the next few weeks.

No relationship could last more than that with Hanamiya meddling in it.

FILL: TEAM BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, G

[notallbees]

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 789

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

***

Kei regrets most things to do with Kageyama. He regrets not pushing him down a well at their very first Golden Week training camp. He regrets not telling him to suck a dick when he asked for advice on confessing to someone. He regrets a lot of things.

Kei is in his second year of university. He doesn't like to dwell on his past mistakes; it's bad enough admitting to himself that he made them in the first place. That said, he wouldn't peg himself as a carpe diem kind of person either. It's just that if he fucks something up, he tries not to think about it.

It's part of the reason he doesn't make a lot of efforts to preserve his friendships. Yamaguchi and Hinata and Yachi are all pretty determined about keeping in touch, and it's easier for Kei to go along with it. He likes relationships that don't require too much effort on his part.

Kei frowns down at his phone, reading over his recent message history with Kageyama.

Kageyama: i'm staying at yours on saturday
Kageyama: meet me at the station at 18:03

Me: Why should I?

Kageyama: bastard send me ur address then

Me: No, I'll be there

Wrinkling his nose at his phone, Kei slips it back in his pocket and lifts his head to look over the crowd. It's currently seven minutes past six; Kageyama should be here any minute. Kei sighs and pulls out his phone again, not wanting to seem too eager when Kageyama arrives. He's still not sure why Kageyama is coming to see him at all, or if he just has a convenient couch to crash on. They haven't spoken in person in at least a year, but they've talked more lately, here and there.

"Oi!" a loud voice calls over the crowd. Kei pretends not to hear. "Oi, Tsukishima! Have you gone deaf?"

Kei slips his phone into his pocket and gives Kageyama a scathing look as he pushes through the crowd to reach him. "And here I was hoping you'd missed the train."

"You came to meet me, didn't you?" Kageyama snarls, but his tone is belied by the crack of a smile starting to spread over his face. "Asshole."

"Moron," Kei says, smirking.

Kageyama grins. "Fuck knuckle."

Kei makes a face. "You've been stealing insults from Tadashi."

"You're just saying that because you don't have a comeback," Kageyama says, falling into step with Kei as he wordlessly turns to leave. "So I can stay?"

"Where else would you go?" Kei asks with a shrug. "I'd feel like a bad citizen if I left you roaming the streets, tormenting innocent people."

Kageyama snorts. "Yeah, you're such a nice guy."

They walk a little further in silence, until Kei stops to buy a drink at a convenience store, and offers the second one to Kageyama.

"Why'd you agree to let me stay?" he asks, taking the bottle with a nod of thanks.

Kei shrugs. "Why'd you ask? In town for the annual Idiots Conference? Although I suppose then Hinata and Lev would be here too."

"My aunt lives here," Kageyama says, uncapping the bottle. He takes a drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I'm going to see her tomorrow."

"So stay with her."

"I wanted to stay with you."

Kei frowns. "Why?"

Kageyama stares him down, unbothered by the direct response. "I can't tell you," he says at last, looking away again. His ears have turned pink. "Not here."

"Oh," Kei says, his stomach doing a funny turn in his chest. He thought he'd gotten over that.

Kageyama makes a frustrated noise. "Fine, I don't want you kicking me out later. I like you, asshole. What do you think about it?"

Kei rolls his eyes. "Didn't you learn anything about confessing to people by now?"

Kageyama scowls at him. "You were the one who wouldn't help me!"

They glare at one another for several moments. And then Kei starts to laugh, the sound quickly building in his chest. Furious, Kageyama reaches out and seizes the front of his coat.

"Oi, shithead—"

"Don't," Kei says, still laughing. "For once I'm not—laughing at you."

"Oh yeah?"

Kei reaches up and unhooks Kageyama's fingers from his coat, threading his own fingers through them instead. "There, is that enough of an answer?"

Kageyama looks down at their joined hands, and then away, blushing again. "Fine, I guess."

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Fuck off."

Kei grins. "You fuck off, I live here."

"So let's go to your place," Kageyama says, squeezing his hand.

Again, Kei's stomach flips with unexpected pleasure. "Alright."

"Alright," Kageyama echoes. "Jerk."

Kei rolls his eyes, but doesn't respond. He'll get his revenge later.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Akashi/Kuroko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 413

***

They had both injected poison into their relationship, careful like scientists at first, pumping it through their veins as if to color proteins, diagnose a problem. Of course, that phase had really only lasted a brief period, until carefully-disguised animosity had turned into all-out disgust, dislike. On top of the attraction, messy like oil and water, the wrong things to mix, the things they could not make work. IT had not exploded; things between the two of them do not explode, because it’s them, even at their wildest they are too restrained, too good at containment to let something like that occur.

They go their separate ways, and meet again. Kuroko forgives Akashi, in a way that seems a little bit self-serving, something he sees as himself giving a generous gift. He’s forgiven himself already, something that has indeed unburdened him. Perhaps that is why he wins, because he can forgive, as cruelly as he does. It’s maybe out of some bitter resentment for Kuroko’s attitude that Akashi lets himself keep a grudge. Maybe it’s in his blood, some ancestral survival tactic. He’s forgiven himself, mostly, for screwing up. He’s forgiven Kuroko for doing the things he'd done, equally misguided. But, hypocritically, vengefully, Akashi thinks that he didn’t have to be such a dick about it.

He doesn’t mean to forgive Kuroko when he does, but forgiveness is a feeling, a release you can’t force, loosened by the erosion of time, the flare of attraction once more. It’s in conflict with his bitterness, but not in the same way as it had been, not in the way it had made every kiss feel like Akashi’s entire face hurt, an allergic reaction (an overreaction, they were so young; they still are so young). The attraction washes away the adhesive that sticks the grudge, soothes the wound in Akashi’s mind; he can let go of this on the way to something more. It’s not a return; its not a regression; it’s forward progress, watching the burden of anger wash away until it passes the horizon, out to sea, gone.

Neither of them has stated their forgiveness in so many words. Kuroko has never acted like Akashi’s forgiveness was necessary for him (another thing that had made letting go a little bit easier, a little bit harder at once). Their shoulders are lighter than ever now; they fit together better, like their jammed uneven gear teeth have been filed down to something congruous.

Re: FILL: Team Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, G

[moetushie]

Thank you for the lovely prompt! I was really hoping to write some adult Rin this round especially since KyoAni relapsed new characters designs of Rin's mom and dad ... and Rin's dad is basically an adult Rin! Complete with shark teeth, bless. :')

I think SouRin is like ... they are long distance, but it's also just a continuing story, isn't it? Like they'll go their own way, but they'll come back together again. But man, you miss a lot when you don't see someone for a long time.

I couldn't decide if Sousuke worked at Samezuka or not but if he did... Sousuke, you work here ... why are you still getting lost....

Thank you for reading!

FILL: TEAM OTABEK ALTIN/YURI PLISETSKY, G

[marks]

Ship: Robo/Youzan, Robo & Tomoya
Fandom: Robot x Laserbeam
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 625

well that's me breaking a new fandom seal for myself. all hail golf manga.

***

“Tomoya, have you ever been on a date?” Robo blinks at him, passive as always. Tomoya doesn’t understand how Robo never gets worked up about anything, aside from getting a shot under par. Before they joined the golf club, Tomoya didn't know Robo was even capable of getting worked up. He probably would have joked that Robo would get about as worked up for sex as he would the weather.

Well. He would have if he had the courage to say that sort of thing out loud. But in his head, Tomoya makes very funny jokes.

“A date?” Tomoya repeats. “Why are you asking about that?”

“Youzan asked me out,” Robo says. He blinks. “So I was wondering what dates are like.”

Tomoya nearly falls out of his chair, but settles for flailing around a little. The best amateur golfer in Japan asked Robo out? The best amateur golfer in Japan liked dudes like that? Robo liked dudes like that? “Youzan?!”

Robo blinks again. “Does that mean you don’t know what dates are like? That’s all right, Tomoya. I’ll just ask someone else.” Robo looks around their classroom and zeroes in on their class rep, a blonde girl who went to karaoke with Robo one time. He starts to march over to her in a straight line, and Tomoya just barely manages to get an arm around his waist to drag him back.

“Sorry about my friend…’s everything,” Tomoya says, bowing apologetically as he drags Robo away. He takes a deep breath and nods his head, rounding on Robo and putting his hands on Robo’s shoulders. “I haven’t been out on any dates, but you can’t just approach strangers for romantic advice.”

“Why?”

“They’ll take it the wrong way!”

“Which way will they take it?”

Tomoya looks at the ceiling and mentally screams to the heavens. “The wrong way,” he says. “No more questions, just accept it. Anyway, we’ll figure out what you’re supposed to do. To the library!”

The chime signaling the end of lunch goes off.

“To the library after school!” Tomoya declares, and guides Robo back to his seat.

*

Three days later, Tomoya hides in some bushes and listens from surveillance equipment he’d strapped to Robo’s chest, just to make sure Robo had really learned from all those etiquette books. The date with Youzan seems to be going well: Robo gave Youzan a single rose when they met at the cat café, he pulled out Youzan’s seat for him, he allowed Youzan to choose the first cat to pet, and when Youzan told him he was politer than he’d expected, Robo told him he just wanted to impress Youzan.

“You already impress me,” Youzan says. “Your golf impresses me, and I like you very much. To tell the truth, when I asked you out, I just thought we might make out for a couple of hours.”

Robo stands right up and the cat in his lap tumbles off with a disgruntled yowl. “Let’s do that instead. Have you made out a lot before, Youzan-kun?”

Youzan laughs. “No.”

“So are we going to the library to learn how to make out?”

“No,” Youzan says again. “I thought hands-on experience might be more fun.”

Robo shrugs. “Okay.” And they leave the cat café without buying anything, which Tomoya thinks is pretty rude. He watches as Youzan tugs Robo around to the back of the building, until he can’t see them, which is a relief until the sounds start up.

“Take off the surveillance equipment,” Tomoya hisses into his mouthpiece. “Take it off.”

Robo either pretends not to hear him or is too busy kissing Youzan to pay attention to Tomoya anymore.

Tomoya pulls his headset off in disgust. Courtesy is a lost art.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Imayoshi/Hanamiya
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 417

***

Makoto,

My dear, my one and only. We’re out of cereal. Please pick some up when you’re on your way back from work.

Yours,

Shouichi xx

(“So you admit you’re mine?”

“I don’t reckon that was much of a secret,” says Shouichi.

“Leave me the last bit of cereal next time, asshole,” says Makoto—his cheeks, Shouichi notes delightedly, are turning a lovely shade of bright red.

“And let me starve?"

“You can buy something at the convenience store. I’ll fucking pay you back if you’re too cheap.”

“Romantic.”

“Shut up.”)

Shouichi,

Stop leaving your damn phone in the bedroom. How else am I supposed to get hold of you when you’re at work? Act like a responsible adult.

(“If you don’t sign your letters, how am I supposed to know it’s you?” says Shouichi.

“Does anyone else live here?”

“Could be Koko-chan.”

“Don’t call the cat dumb names,” says Makoto. “Cats can’t write.”

“Who’s a clever girl?" says Shouichi, staring at the black cat winding her way around the bottom of the chair; she looks quite unimpressed at Shouichi not giving her any food, but that’s cats, just like Makoto, always ungrateful.

“Take your damn phone with you,” says Makoto. “Then I won’t write notes you complain about. We’re living in the twenty-first century, old man.”)

Makoto,

I could text you but it seems I’ve forgotten my phone at work again, and I don’t want to wake you up. You look very cute when you’re sleeping, and you don’t get enough of it. I’ll make dinner tonight, so there’s no need to buy anything.

Always thinking of you.

Your Shouichi

(I’ll buy you a fucking wallet chain if it’ll keep your phone attached, Makoto texts almost as soon as Shouichi arrives at work.

Swearing is vulgar, Makoto.

You’re plenty vulgar.

During work hours? Oh, my.

Makoto doesn’t text back after that, although it’s just as well. Shouichi’s got a lot of work to do, and as fun as silly love notes to Makoto can be, they're a bit of a distraction when he’s doing his job. He still hasn’t decided on dinner, and when he gets a bit of free time he thinks about Makoto rather than about that. There are so many ways he can flatter Makoto and make him blush and push back, pretend so badly to be annoyed. This little game of theirs is silly, but it’s no sillier than the notes themselves.)