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

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Aomine/Kagami
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 417

***

Kagami feels kind of stupid sometimes, like Aomine’s stupidity is rubbing off on him. I’s not like suddenly he doesn’t understand shit; it’s not like he was some kind of Rhodes Scholar to begin with. But when he’s with Aomine, sometimes he can’t think; sometimes the only thing he can think about is Aomine, his hair grown out a little, that casual way he sits arms back and legs spread taking up way too much space on the park bench (so it seems like there’s barely room for the basketball next to him).

(“You’re just in love,” Tatsuya had said, as if this was all some sort of giant amusement, and Kagami doesn’t think he’s funny—he knows he’s in love, but this is, like, something else, probably).

Or maybe Tatsuya’s right, and maybe no matter what the reason Kagami should stop worrying. He doesn’t so much when they’re playing ball in the park, when he’s not supposed to be thinking about much other than the way Aomine’s moving and the way to block, how high he has to jump and when to time it, when to get in a shot of his own, a dunk or a longer jump shot just out of Aomine’s reach (but they foul each other, too; they both know the rules of street ball and the way they get physical; there’s no referee, just the two of them). Aomine grabs Kagami’s ass between plays, as if to rattle him; Kagami grabs Aomine’s back because he’s not going to let him have all the fun.

Loser buys the ice cream, but even when Kagami wins it ends up being his treat, not that he minds. It’s only a few hundred yen for soft serve, melting on their tongues and shared between them because even when they both get the swirl they’re never happy with not giving and taking all over again. They lick it from each other’s tongues in the hallway while Aomine pretends to fumble with the keys, though Kagami’s seen him open the door dead tired and dead drunk before, but he doesn’t mind the obvious ploy. It’s not a trap if they both fall in and enjoy it, is it? There’s no reason to pretend, though, not when they end up in bed with the ice cream melting sticky on the sheets they’ve been sweating in anyway so they might as well change, the feeling of body on body, no clothes, no basketball, no ice cream in the way.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Haizaki/Kagami
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 481

***

“I like you,” Shougo says, his face coloring at the sides, and that much has been obvious to Taiga for a while now.

He’d figured Shougo didn’t want to do anything about it, that he’s not great with feelings or wasn’t ready, that he’d give him time to get things settled and figure his shit out. If that meant keeping this thing going until it really was just casual sex for Shougo, friendship attached (benefits with friends?) he’d back off. He just hadn’t wanted to make a move, scare him off, wanted to have his twenty cakes of sex every time their teams met and dumb texting conversations and eat his fantasy of Shougo coming to him and asking him to give it a go sometimes. Taiga waits for Shougo to continue; there’s got to be more to it than that.

“I know there’s a lot of distance, and I understand if it’s like, a casual thing to you, and I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Shougo shrugs and tries very hard to keep his eyes focused on Taiga’s rather than look away; it hasn’t been too long ago that he’d avert his eyes most of the time when he was giving Taiga looks like this.

“I like you, too, and I want a relationship with you. Like, valentines and mushy shit even if you yell at me about it.”

That gets a half-smile from Shougo at least.

“But if you’re not sure, if you’re not ready, then I don’t want to push you because I like what we have.”

“I mean. I’ll probably never be ready, and I might screw things up and it’s weird for me, you know, to feel like I have to be careful not to with you, because I don’t want to. I want us to be good; I want you to like me.”

“I’m not going to hate you if you forget to buy milk.”

“I know,” says Shougo. “Like, actual screwups, you know? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, even with this. Friends or fuck buddies or whatever.”

“You’re doing pretty good,” Taiga says, smiling in a way he hopes is encouraging.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. But that’s not always going to be the case.”

“Good relationships aren’t perfect,” says Taiga. “But like I said, I don’t want to pressure you.”

“I want this; I want to go out with you and date you and all that stuff. Stay with you more than a week or so in the summer, not just when it’s convenient. I just want you to know, like. Me.”

“I know you,” says Taiga. “None of us ever knows what we’re really getting into, though.”

“Yeah, I guess,” says Shougo. “But I’m in; this isn’t, like equivocating or waiting for you; I’m in.”

Taiga’s pretty sure he’s never smiled this wide before.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Aomine/Murasakibara/Kagami/Himuro
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 516

***

There isn’t much of a downside to the all star game, especially when they all get to go (Atsushi complains about working on his off weekend, but they’ve still got the break afterwards and it’s just one game where they split the minutes pretty evenly; Atsushi always ends up denying that he’d wanted to play more). It’s the one chance they have to all play together, a handful of charity matches in the offseason aside; being split between four NBA teams (at least they’re all in the Eastern Conference right now) and two national teams makes that pretty damn near impossible at any other time. By far the biggest downside is the hotel, the bill footed by the league (not cheap, but considering their salaries not bad) and the regular king size bed they all try to cram onto. They’ve had their share of hotel beds in their combined years playing in the league, most of them big and empty and nowhere near as good as home, especially home when you’re with someone else (or multiple someone elses). But trying to fit four guys their size on this is a little bit tight, a little bit cramped. Tatsuya offers to take one of the other hotel rooms, take someone with him, but it’s not like anyone really wants to leave; it’s not like they’re going to split off into twos all over again.

And despite the tight fit, once they’re in and asleep Atsushi absolutely doesn’t want to leave.

“This is better than basketball," he says, hugging Taiga close to his chest; Taiga’s already halfway dressed, shaved and teeth brushed and he’s completely unamused by Atsushi.

He can’t disagree; he can’t agree; fuck. He’s just not going to say anything other than telling Atsushi to get off him.

“Aww,” Daiki coos. “How romantic.”

Tatsuya’s doing up his tie, way better than Daiki ever has himself even if it always takes him a few tries to get it right (Taiga usually does his, tight against his collar, knuckles against Tatsuya’s throat).

“I’m not waiting for you," says Taiga, tugging himself free.

(He ends up being the last one in the room with Atsushi, yelling at him to hurry the fuck up and all they have to do is get down to breakfast and doesn’t he want pastries—apparently not enough to speed his routine up all that much.)

But then there’s the game, the four of them; it almost doesn’t matter who the fifth is. It feels as if they could take on the whole West team at once, just the four of them, the passes that they’ve practiced, the slick alley-oops, Atsushi staying back to shoot a three of his own (and slow or not, God, that wingspan). The four of them, together, are an eclipse; they know each other’s basketball well enough to come in like an explosion and take no prisoners. They’re still high off the victory when they collapse in the tiny bed late that night, just the four of them once more. Yeah, the downsides to this thing are pretty minimal.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, G

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Midorima/Akashi
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 442

the universe where talking flowers are standard?

***

It is an ordinary day, the hum of the hydroponic systems in the air, Akashi’s reading glasses low on his nose and a novel open on his desk. He’s read all of the relevant botanical literature, and it gets too boring sometimes when he’s surrounded by his work to read about it more. The flowers chatter to each other, the four closest to the front (best cared for, not for sale) peer out of the tinted glass window.

“Sei-chan!”

“Yes?” says Akashi, laying the book folded open on the counter.

“There’s a boy outside.”

Akashi’s used to hearing the tones of roses, but the Mibuchi variety has always puzzled him (and Reo in particular). He can’t tell if it’s quite with disdain or with interest, or perhaps mixed with both.

“He’s kinda cute. He’s green, you know,” says Kotarou.

Akashi looks out the window; a boy with very green hair and glasses is indeed looking inside. He is quite cute, even if he’s rather tall, very long legs (lake a dance, perhaps, but maybe he’s too tall for that). Akashi takes off his reading glasses and leans forward; the boy moves toward the door and opens it.

The previous proprietor of the shop had left a chime in the door; Akashi had taken it down quickly because he’d found it annoying, and the flowers had expressed similar opinions.

“Hello?”

He has a deep, rich voice; Akashi likes him already. “Hello. How can I help you?”

“I was looking for a plant…a geranium, maybe, for my sister.”

“Ah,” says Akashi. “Follow me.”

Geraniums are chatty, but the boy looks like he knows what he wants, a lovely one in a small pot that it might get too big for soon, of the Kimura variety. It’s strong and hardy, and though geraniums tend to be talkative (yappy, even) this one’s more content to listen. As Akashi explains, the boy nods in approval.

“Pick me, damn it!” says one from the shelf above, and Akashi is going to have to have another talk with them about manners.

The boy doesn’t seem to mind it too much; it makes his decision to buy the Kimura all the more firm. His eyelashes are long, casting shadows on his face under the garden lightbulbs; he’s nearly tall enough for his head to clear the shelf, and Akashi thinks about leaning back and pulling him down for a kiss. A nice fantasy to break up the monotony of the workplace, he supposes.

“Please come back soon,” Akashi says as the boy (Midorima, according to his credit card) signs the receipt.

He nods, and then blushes. Very good.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Aomine/Kise/Himuro
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 441

***

They shouldn’t play streetball after a night game, when it’s already close to eleven as they get out of the arena, but fuck it. They haven’t had a chance to do this in too long, and its the stuff their relationship is built on. Aomine, Kise, a basketball, a gym or a park or anywhere. It’s a week night and it’s hot for November; no one’s out and they have the whole court to themselves to screw around, to block and shoot and push each other, to kiss under the streetlight afterwards. Aomine takes a picture to send to Himuro, him and Kise and the basketball under the hoop. Himuro calls them, and they’re all sleepy already (Himuro’s still on the east coast) but they manage to hold on for half an hour, their voices blending over the speakerphone.

*

Aomine visits Himuro in December; it’s too cold already to go outside, an early snowfall blanketing the city in white-grey-black, snow melting to ice with car exhaust, punctured by holes until it looks like a demented sea sponge. Himuro’s got the keys to the Knicks’ practice facility, though; he says it’s fine if Aomine comes, too, as long as he doesn’t steal their secrets. It’s weird being in a gym this big just the two of them, the lights so bright and their voices echoing off the nothing; it seems like every shot is a little bit longer and Himuro’s three from just beyond the arc is practically full-court. They’re still hot when they get out of the facility, but they hold sweaty hands anyway. Himuro texts Kise and receives a string of emoji in response; he and Aomine take turns trying to decipher it all.

*

Kise and Himuro are both in LA at the same time, Kise to play the Clippers and Himuro to play the Lakers. It’s the rare happy accident in the grueling schedule, even if they have to deal with Kise playing three games in four nights and Himuro’s jet lag from the fight in from Florida. It’s nice to be in LA in the winter because it’s warm, and right now relatively dry; Himuro doesn’t complain about the New York weather too much (not as much as he used to, anyway) but Kise can tell it perks him up being home. He also knows the street courts well, knows where the two of them can sneak in unnoticed and battle for the rim, face off the way their teams won’t for another two months. Aomine calls Kise when they’re finishing up, and they talk underneath the hoop, voices in low murmurs, Himuro’s arm around Kise’s waist.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Imaizumi & his mother
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 406 words

Post THAT RACE. You know the one.

***

For weeks now, ever since that fateful race, Imaizumi has had a ritual whenever he wakes up from a nightmare.

First step is to calm his breathing. He counts twenty breaths in, twenty out. Next step to drink some water. He keeps a glass by his bedside, refilled right before going to sleep, just for the sake of this ritual. These two steps are only delaying tactics. He needs to get his heartbeat back to normal and he needs to convince himself that everything is fine and he should go back to sleep.

(It never works. He has never been a good liar, least of all to himself.)

If he still isn’t calm enough to sleep, he slips out of bed as quietly as he can. Step by step, watching the placement of each foot with a ballerina’s focus, he makes his way out of his room and down the hallway. From experience, he knows he needs a little light here so he takes his phone with him.

When he opens his mother’s bedroom door, the pale glow of the screen provides enough illumination for him to see her. He never needs to watch for long – she’ll sigh, or roll over, or do something that proves she’s alive. Something that proves his nightmare was just that and she didn’t die during the night.

It’s all Midousuji’s fault. The frantic minutes he spent pedaling back to the last checkpoint, thinking all the while of his mother lying dead, must have etched that terror into Imaizumi’s subconscious. He’s never had such nightmares before and now he dreams of her dying, night after night, with a clarity that makes them seem like memories.

(Imaizumi increases how much time he spends cycling to try to tire himself into sleeplessness. It doesn’t work. It gets worse. Now he wakes convinced that she had been crying out for help but he’d been too soundly asleep to hear her.)

Sometimes, his mother wakes up when he’s checking in on her. Those are the nights that he ends up in the kitchen with her, sipping hot tea and talking about nothing at all until he’s calm enough to sleep.

She knows why he checks on her. Ever since his father died, she’s all the family he has. She tells him to be patient, the nightmares will end soon and though he nods, he disagrees.

Nothing will stop the nightmares except defeating Midousuji at the Inter-High.

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

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

***

Satsuki is of the frost. She sinks back in each year to the snow as it disappears around her, as the sky warms and the day breaks. The snow melts and she melts and then there is spring, trees remembering that they can create colors less bleak than brown-grey, mosses and lichens and flowers pushing out of the ground. At least that’s how Satsuki’s always heard it described, by the people she visits, who let her in not knowing what she is.

Riko knows; Riko lets her in still. Their window is vanishing as Riko grows older but Satsuki stays the same, forever young and frozen in that cold winter way, pale skin pale eyes pale hair. This is but a small blip in her life, but it feels larger; it feels like something that could encompass her. Riko is like snow, disappearing as she grabs hold of Satsuki, becoming a different person, changing in the months in which the air is warm and the ground is soft and she does things, becomes things.

But long as it is, it’s too short to dwell on unhappy things when they’re together, when Satsuki is conscious of herself, aware of her surroundings (Riko had asked her if she dreamed while she was wherever she goes; Satsuki had laughed and said only of Riko but it had been dodging the questions more than anything else; the truth is she doesn’t know whether she thinks or not, dreams or not, if she even exists before the first frost). The sky is permanently grey this season but the sun is its backlight, the few hours a day it comes out; they go out in the darkness between blizzards, when the clouds are grey but the snow seems to shine, Satsuki in a sundress and RIko bundled up, her breath freezing in the air (Riko always says with such wonder in her voice that Satsuki’s breath is cold).

They share a bed, under the blankets that Satsuki doesn’t need to feel comfortable, but she won’t melt. She’ll crystalize, huddled around Riko, her body artificially warm like a reptile sitting on a rock in the sun, and they’ll both wake up sweating under the heavy furs. The days blur into each other and Satsuki thinks that perhaps if she pretends a little bit harder, she can imagine this winter as eternal, nothing changing. But the equinox approaches; the sun stays higher in the sky, fast approaching days that go too long. Soon, she will be gone again; like every year she hopes Riko will be there when she returns.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Horio & Karupin
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 455 words

No real warnings except possibly Ryoma being a bit of a jerk.

***

“Horio, bring my clothes.”

“Horio, I need a drink.”

“Horio, hold Karupin for me.”

The last had actually been the worst. While Horio was used to being Ryoma’s unofficial servant by now (and proud of it since it meant that he was helping the Seigaku regulars in a concrete way), he’d nearly dropped the cat out of shock when Ryoma had casually bundled Karupin into his arms.

He’d never held a cat before. He knew that they supposedly fell onto their feet when dropped but this was Ryoma’s cat. He couldn’t drop him!

The cat stared up at Horio, his round brown face framed by creamy fur that made him look disconcertingly doll-like. Karupin’s brown ears flicked back then his bushy brown tail waved gently from side to side.

Oh no. Was that a bad sign? Cats wagged when they were about to attack, didn’t they? Could they smell fear like dogs did?

Horio did his best to keep his breathing calm and bring his heartrate down. This was Ryoma’s cat. Surely it would have to be well-behaved.

What was he thinking. This was Ryoma’s cat! It’d probably be as bratty as him – or even worse, because it was a cat!

“N-nice kitty,” he stammered, gulping nervously. Somehow, he felt his 2+ years of tennis experience wouldn’t help in dealing with a cat. Unless…

“Do you want to play with a tennis ball?” He asked hopefully. He was almost positive that it was dogs that liked to retrieve tennis balls but it wasn’t as if he carried cat toys on him! A tennis ball was the best he could do!

Glancing over at Ryoma, Horio sighed as he realized that Captain Tezuka was going through some exercises with Ryoma. Horio wouldn’t be able to get rid of the cat anytime soon.

Why had Ryoma even brought a cat to practice?!

“Meow,” the cat in his arms said and Horio hurriedly turned his attention back to Karupin. Was he hungry? Thirsty? Did he need a litterbox?

“What do you mean, meow?” He asked, unable to keep the aggravation out of his tone. ”I don’t speak cat!”

What was he supposed to do?

“Meow!” Karupin said again, then leapt out of Horio’s arms. He sat on the ground, daintily licked a paw and then looked at Horio as if to say, ‘your move, human’.

Before Horio could even begin to panic at having lost Ryoma’s precious cat, strong arms scooped Karupin up and the cat went into a frenzy of purring, butting its head against Kaidoh’s chin and nuzzling him.

“Ryoma wants you to look after his cat,” Horio said hastily and bolted to the opposite side of the court where there were balls to pick up.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Ryoma & Seigaku
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 402 words

Warning for major sports injury!

***


The tennis ball collided with Ryoma’s ribs and then hit the ground a second before Ryoma did. He crashed down onto his side.

Tennis rules allowed players to take a timeout for acute injuries but it was from the Seigaku team that the calls of “Time out!” and “Time!” rose in a series of loud, overlapping shouts. Ryuuzaki ran to Ryoma, Tezuka and the rest of the team overtaking her easily, but it was Momoshiro with his long legs that reached him first.

He dropped to his knees besides the boy, looking down at him. Ryoma’s wide eyes, pupils dilated from pain, fixed on him briefly.

"I can't breathe, Momo-senpai.” Ryoma was pale, his breathing uneven and wet-sounding. The wheezing breaths were shallower, Ryoma’s face screwed up with agony. His arms were wrapped protectively over his side and Momo had to reach under them to tug Ryoma’s shirt up and see what had happened.

He’d seen Ryoma play with blood trickling down his face, without any memories and so exhausted that he’d fallen into a coma. He’d never seen Ryoma look this hurt – this small.

“Let me see, kid,” Ryuuzaki said gently, pushing Momo’s hands away. “Don’t move.”

The red, vicious swelling that spread over his side made Momo suck in a breath. On Ryoma’s other side, Eiji was holding his hand while Tezuka had taken one look at it, then got up to speak to the referee. Ryuuzaki lightly brushed her fingers over the bruise and Ryoma screamed. The high, loud pitch of his shriek made Taka backpedal and Fuji open his eyes to stare down at Ryoma. Ryoma’s eyes were wet now, brimming tears barely held back.

“Sorry, kid. It looks like a broken rib,” Ryuuzaki diagnosed. Ryoma’s fast, shallow breaths made it hard for him to talk but he asked, “Can you tape it?”

“No. We’re taking you to hospital and you’re going to have to rest until it’s healed.” Ryuuzaki looked up at the worried team members. “Call an ambulance. We need him moved carefully.”

Nobody needed to be told that a broken rib jabbed into the lungs would kill him. Oishi was the first to get his cellphone out; while he called, Momo and Eiji kept holding his hand.

“What about the rest of the match?” Ryoma asked between labored breaths.

Eiji and Oishi had played a doubles, Momo and Kaidoh had lost a doubles, Tezuka had won a single, Taka had lost a single and now it was a tie.

“Fuji will play in your place,” Ryuuzaki said.

“I’ll win for you,” Fuji promised, voice surprisingly soft.

"But I want to play," Ryoma said stubbornly. Even if it killed him, he wanted to play!

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Inui/Kirihara
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 402 words

MELODRAMA. Thank you for prompting Inui/Kirihara for me. <3

***

“You ruined him. So he can’t even see right from wrong. He can’t even see the sanctity of a human life anymore.” Inui’s glasses glinted as he stared coldly at Kirihara.

“What sanctity? There is only winning.” Kirihara laughed, sipping from his water bottle casually, and the glint of his own green eyes met Inui’s without flinching.

“He knew better,” Inui said. In his own hand was a sports bottle, filled with one of his special juices prepared just for this occasion. “When he was with us, he knew better.”

“No,” Kirihara corrected and all the amusement was gone from his gaze, “When he was with you, he knew weakness. He could have met me in his own true form but you made him stop.”

Each word was as precise as a Twist Serve, Kirihara locking his gaze on Inui’s in a wordless accusation.

“You ruined him. You refused to accept his potential.”

“His potential to be a monster?” Inui scoffed, a short sharp sound leaving his lips. “There was a 86.7% chance that if Kaidoh went into demon mode, he wouldn’t be able to control it.”

“Why control it?” Kirihara asked. “Demons aren’t meant to be controlled – or used.”

“If you’re so fond of it, then why aren’t you a demon right now?”

“My body isn’t strong enough to maintain that for too long,” Kirihara said after a short pause. He took a sip of water and then added deliberately. “Yet.”

At Kirihara’s smile, Inui felt cold claws trace their way down his spine.
“…I want to speak to him,” he said, thumbing at the squeeze-flip top of the sports bottle. “I brought this for him.”

“What is it?”

“One of my special strengthening juices.” Inui held the bottle out towards Kirihara, tilting the mouthpiece to his face. “You can taste it if you want to check.”

“I know what happens to people that taste your drinks, Inui. I’m not falling for that – or that you’d bring Kaidoh a strengthening juice. Like I’m going to believe that you want to make the enemy stronger. What is that, some sort of cure?” Kirihara laughed, the sound high and unbalanced enough to make Inui look sharply at Kirihara’s eyes again. No. Still green. He breathed a silent sigh of relief even as Kirihara mocked, “You think it’ll make him turn good again?”

“No,” Inui said and pressed the sports bottle hard, squirting the holy water directly onto Kirihara’s face. As Kirihara screamed, flesh melting and slipping off his skin, Inui bolted past him.

Kaidoh was somewhere in that hell house. Inui just had to find him.

Re: FILL: Team Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, T

[tehngo]

YES YES YES OMG FRAT AU!!!!! SO FITTING I LOVE IT... this is perfect ughghghgh i love bokuto i love these rowdy boys thank you for another fill y_y <3 your writing is fantastic

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, M

[fickle]

Ship: Aomine/Sakurai
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 440 words

Mild sexual content! Mostly just nipple play.

***

Aomine was all muscle under Sakurai’s hands, unforgiving and tense. Sakurai pressed his hands down hard, seeing if he could make the muscle give way, but it stayed as hard as rock sprayed with silk to make it surface-smooth. He cupped his hands over Aomine’s pectorals, curving his palms to fit the angular mass of muscle perfectly into his hands.

When he pressed his thumb over the dark circle of Aomine’s nipple, Aomine didn’t react. He stayed on his back, looking up lazily at Sakurai with his hands folded behind his head.

But despite his seeming ease, despite his apparent relaxation, his muscles were hard and his eyes were sharply focused.

He’s nervous. This isn’t basketball and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen, Sakurai guessed, pinching Aomine’s nipple between his fingers and digging his fingernail in sharply. That, at least, made Aomine jolt beneath him though Sakurai couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“Sorry,” he said quietly just in case, drawing his hand back.

Aomine’s big hand closed around his wrist.

“Do it again,” Aomine ordered. Sakurai’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Did being so big mean that Aomine was less sensitive than a normal person? Would making Aomine feel things require more pressure than usual?

He caught the tip of Aomine’s nipples between his nails and pressed as hard as he could. It felt like trying to snap a cherry seed in half.

Aomine’s mouth opened and he grunted. It was not a sexy sound, sounding half-surprised, but he shifted under Sakurai restlessly with his eyes fixed on Sakura still. A wave of triumph rolled through Sakurai and he leaned down, dragging his lips over the strong clavicle that jutted out from the muscle like it was breaking free. He kissed the smooth skin, parting his lips to scrape his teeth over the starkly-emphasized bone, and felt Aomine go still once more as if he were bored.

Good. Sakurai smiled to himself, working his way down strategically with a trail of kisses and little nibbles. He felt like a barnacle on a whale, something small and barely noticed, but the rapid thud of Aomine’s heartbeat under his palm reassured him that Aomine was feeling something. He just apparently wasn’t very expressive.

He toyed with Aomine’s nipple still, digging his nails in as hard as he could, tugging and scraping at it with his nails viciously, but got no more audible reactions, only the quake-shiver of Aomine’s hips against his thighs as Aomine shivered.

He took a deep breath, replaced his fingers with his mouth and bit down as hard as he could.

Aomine came with a shout.

FILL: Team Prince of Tennis, T

[fickle]

Ship: Momoi/Riko
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 443 words

...This somehow turned into a medieval fantasy AU. Um. I hope that's your thing!

***

There was no denying it; Momoi simply looked more like a princess than Riko, with the exception of her over-sized breasts. Indecorously large, they stuck out in front of her and drew the eye of anyone that spoke to her.

Apart from that, she was the perfect royal. She kept her long, rose-petal pink hair in perfect condition so that it swayed and floated around her as she moved. When she turned corners at a run, it swung out behind her like a knight’s cape. She was sweet-voiced and quiet, with large, shining eyes that every court painter exaggerated in their portraits. Compared to her, King Aomine looked like a lout of a man, oversized and ungainly in how he sprawled on the throne like some peasant worker in from the fields.

Queen Momoi ruled the people and the land; everyone knew that. Riko’s own advisors had stressed before she set off on the state visit that it was Momoi whom she should talk to and ingratiate herself with. Their kingdoms bordered each other and so it was vital to maintain good relationships between Seirin and Tōō.

Kuroko went along with Riko, thanks to some childhood friendship he had with King Aomine, but nobody expected him to do much except quietly collect data while being unnoticed.

Riko promised to do her best but that didn’t stop her from hating Momoi on sight. The fact that Momoi clung to Kuroko (who had apparently been her childhood friend as well and how could Kuroko not have mentioned that on the 15-day ride to the other kingdom?!) did not help endear her to Riko either.

Eventually, Queen Momoi was peeled off Kuruko who promptly disappeared with Aomine, leaving the two queens alone.

“So,” Queen Momoi said brightly, “We have a banquet for you tonight and tomorrow, I thought that perhaps we could discuss the matter of the marine treaty.”

Being thrown straight into business wrongfooted Riko for only a moment. “Of course. That, along with the mutual détente, should be revisited at our earliest convenience.”

“I couldn’t agree more! Shall we stroll in the gardens for a little? My favorite hunting bitch just had puppies and I heard you are quite fond of canines.” Momoi’s eyes twinkled as she made the offer and Riko automatically smiled back even as she wondered who had fed Momoi that tidbit of information.

As the visit progressed, Riko only became even more discomforted by how good Momoi’s knowledge was of the Seirin court and kingdom. Riko was going to have to take a hard look at her security and her courtiers when she got home. Someone was feeding Momoi information!

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Ranpha/Rakshata
Fandom: Love Live
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 402 words

***

Ranpha knocked on the door again, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. True, it was past 9 but it shouldn’t be so late that Rakshata was asleep!

The door opened and Rakshata tilted her head to a side curiously at the sight of Ranpha still dressed in her delivery uniform with a wicker basket clutched to her chest.

“Oooh, what’s in there?” She asked as she sniffed the air. She’d already eaten but the rich, tempting smell that wafted out from the woven container made her stomach rumble with interest.

“Xiao Long Bao!” Ranpha said proudly as she entered. “Special flavored ones. Cheese, Szechaun and ginseng. That’s yellow, pink and green – we’re having a special pastel promotion and I got us a basket to share.”

“Mmm, sounds tasty! Thank you for the gift.” Rakshata quickly got out her plates along with a set of cutlery for each girl, then sat cross-legged on the floor.
“It’s not a gift,” Ranpha said, laughter rippling from her lips as she stopped Rakshata’s abortive movement towards her wallet. “No, no, you don’t have to split the cost. You’re always making sweet curry and sharing it with me. I wanted to be the one to feed you for a change.”

“Oh!” A red flush colored Rakshata’s brown cheeks, followed very quickly be a smile. “Thank you, Ranpha! That’s very sweet of you.”

“Not a problem!” Rakshata picked up the chopsticks and gestured for Rakshata to copy her. “See, there’s a special way to eat xiao long bao. Pick it up with the chopsticks and put it on the spoon, then nibble just a little at the side – then all the soup spills out and so does the steam! You have to wait a bit for it to cool and then pop! You just put it all in your mouth and bite down.”

She demonstrated, closing her eyes in bliss as the hot, flavorful soup flooded her mouth and each successive bite released more of the pork and cheese juice inside the dumpling.

When she opened her eyes, Rakshata was chewing with her eyes shut and a wide smile on her smile. Rakshata swallowed and opened her eyes, smiling even more brightly when she realized Ranpha was watching her.

“It’s delicious!” She said delightedly, licking her lips to make sure none of the soup had dribbled out. “And so clever! I wonder if they make a curried version…”

Re: FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[marks]

I was grinning from the very beginning because I just love everything about their dynamic but I was swooning by It's important for a captain to know his ace, after all, and to know his strengths—as well as his weaknesses. Everything about this version of them as third years works just great for me and I'll take whatever percentage of blame you want for you shipping them, especially when I get to read things like this. :D

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, M

[fickle]

Ship: Mizuki & Fuji brothers
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 410 words

...Mild sexual content implied for the future.

***


Anyone with eyes could see how the story was going to play out. Yuuta wanted Mizuki, Mizuki wanted Shuusuke and Shuuzuke just wanted his brother to be happy again.

"Want to work together like we used to, Yuuta?" Shuusuke asked, following his brother’s gaze to where it was locked on Mizuki. Mizuki was adjusting his holly crown in a mirror, ignoring the rest of the Christmas party temporarily as he tried to perch it at the perfect angle on his dark locks of hair.

“Really?” Yuuta’s gaze darted to Shuusuke, the black kohl around his brown eyes making what had been ordinary seem more striking. Even his eyes couldn’t compare to Shuusuke’s, merely brown where Shuusuke’s blazed blue when he bothered to open them properly. He knew that, he knew that he couldn’t compete with his brother when it came to looks and yet...

The heart wanted what it wanted, reason be damned.

“Mhm,” Shuusuke nodded, eyes still on their prey. “You go find a bedroom upstairs and get ready. I’ll go get him.”

Their host had such a big house that surely he wouldn’t mind if they appropriated a bedroom for their use. Yuuta nodded, then slipped off through the crowd. Shuusuke picked up a glass of punch from the table, then glided over to Mizuki.

In the mirror, Mizuki watched Shuusuke approach, eyes keen and hopeful.

“I’m surprised your crown isn’t mistletoe,” Shuusuke said as an opening line, sipping at the punch. The red liquid lent color to his lips, making them sticky-glossy and appealing.

“As if I’d want to kiss most of the people here,” Mizuki scoffed, his gaze distracted and unable to keep from straying to Shuuzuke’s mouth.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Subtlety, Shuusukek knew, was overrated when it came to would-be chessmasters like Mizuki. That was what his poor brother had yet to learn. Devotion would never work as well as disdain when it came to people who thought they were clever than you.

Shock flashed over Mizuki’s face for a second but he recovered quickly, laughing and tucking a lock of hair back from his face. If his fingers trembled slightly, nobody but Shuusuke would’ve noticed.

“Well, if you’re offering…” He let the words draw out, watching Shuusuke with glittering, hungry eyes.

“I am,” Shuusuke said and flicked his gaze upwards towards the stairs. “Come. Let’s find somewhere more private.”

Like a leashed and loyal dog, Mizuki followed.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, M

[fickle]

Ship: Kevin/Ryoma
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 418 words

Warnings for child abuse, emotional manipulation, alcoholism.

***

His arm’s numb but he’s still gripping the racket. Across the court, his father prepares to smash another serve at him and Kevin hurriedly uses his other hand to push his arm into position.

He’s so tired that the balls are beginning to blur and he’s stumbling as he runs but he can’t stop. His father expects practice to continue until sundown every night. Being sick is no excuse for slacking off.

He fails to return the serve; his father’s yelling turns into just noise and Kevin fixes his eyes on the far side of the court, hoping that’ll look as if he’s paying attention.
-

His after school routine is simple. Go home, check how many beer cans are in the trash (or worse, bottles), throw the trash away, check if his father’s awake, then shower. If his father’s awake, it’s practice time until sundown. If his father’s asleep, then he can get a headstart on his homework instead of having to wait until the sun sets.

Kevin’s aware that dinner should come into the equation but he’s too small to use the stove and the fridge rarely has anything except beer in it.

He skips dinner most nights. It’s okay. The school gives free breakfasts.
-

It’s not all bad. That’s the worst part. Some nights, his father orders food delivered and tells Kevin to show him his hands. He rubs the callouses and shows Kevin strengthening exercises, reminding Kevin that this is all to make him stronger, to make him better. Echizen’s got a kid and you’ll be the one to take the snot-nosed brat down.

-

In school, Kevin learns about ‘living vicariously’ and understands, for the first time, what his father is asking of him. This isn’t revenge. This isn’t Japan shaming good old American values. This isn’t some epic battle of East vs. West like his father makes it sound.

It’s a washed-up drunk who can’t play professionally anymore pinning all his hopes on his son.
Kevin wants to skip practice that night but the only way to do that is to not go home and he has nowhere else to go.
-

If he wants to get away from his father, he needs money. The only way to get money is to win tennis competitions.

He wins and he wins and he wins and one day, Richard Baker asks if he would like to start playing internationally where the real money is at.

Kevin thinks of Ryoma Echizen and says yes.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Riku/Takeru
Fandom: Haikyuu
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 435 words

Mild sexual content. Mostly just fun.

***

Riku looked at the silky piles of cloth doubtfully, running his rough fingertips over the material and feeling it snag against his skin.

“You want me to wear these? Won’t they look weird with my leg hair?” He asked, lifting one of the stockings up and examining the elastic tops, cleverly concealed by lace, that’d supposedly keep the stockings from falling down.

“I’ll shave your legs for you,” Takeru volunteered. From nowhere, he’d produced a saucer with shaving cream sprayed in a whirl like whipped cream. In his other hand, he held a razor. When Riku didn’t immediately agree, Takeru added reassuringly, “Swimmers do it to make themselves faster and reduce resistance.”

“We don’t run with bare legs,” Riku said but he headed to the bathroom anyway. He peeled off his jeans easily and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, long legs outstretched. Takeru sat down on the rim of the tub as well and ran warm water over Riku’s legs before he carefully lathered them from ankle to upper thigh. He cradled the heel of Riku’s foot in his palm, using it to hold Riku’s leg steady as stroke by stroke, he stripped the fair hairs from Riku’s lean muscle. The swell of the calf, the narrowing near the ankle, the sensitive skin behind the knee, the gleaming femoral artery…

Takeru drank in the sight of Riku’s legs, now bare and oddly vulnerable, and kissed the exquisite jut of his ankle bone before rinsing Riku’s legs off. He dabbed them dry with a towel, checking for any missed spots. Not a single hair marred the smoothness of Riku’s hair now.

“Come to the bedroom,” he said quietly and his voice was as close to reverent as it would ever get.

Riku followed him into the bedroom and lay down, legs spread. Slowly, Takeru rolled up one of the stockings and slipped it over Riku’s foot. The prince giving Cinderella her slipper back could not have been more worshipful. The thin, semi-opaque black material stretched over Riku’s leg, shadowing the contours of muscle. Takeru unrolled it past the oval kneecaps and up over the strong, thick thighs, pressing his thumb into the divot of muscle before he finally smoothed out the lacy top.

A little white butterfly was attached to the back of the stocking near the ankle, a delicate little touch of whimsy that made Takeru’s mouth dry. He lifted Riku’s leg up, the stocking material unbelievably silky against his palm, and kissed the inside of Riku’s thigh like a pilgrim kissing a relic.

No heavenly bliss could feel more divine.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Nico/Eli
Fandom: Love Live
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 434 words

***
“Thank you!” Nico beamed, twirling around and around so that her short, full shirt rose up and spun around her like a ballerina’s tutu. “Thank you all! Nico-nico-nii!”

She adopted one of her cutest poses (one leg slightly in front to make her legs look slimmer, head tilted to a side like a bird, a wide smile and a heart formed by her hands), “Nico-chan’s so happy to know you all love her so much!”

The fresh outpouring of squees from the fans made Nico smile and fluff up her act even more, striking pose after pose until Eli, who was impatiently looking at her watch, stepped forwards and announced, “Nico-chan’s got another appointment to get to, everyone. Thank you for your support.”

The chorus of disappointed noises were gratifying to her ears but it was Nico who drank it in and kept waving goodbye and striking poses all the way into the limo. Once inside, she gave a deep sigh of relief and practically threw herself over Eli’s lap.

“Ah, that was such a good interview! He didn’t ask a single rude question!” Nico beamed up at Eli, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement of being besieged by her fans outside the building. “And did you see how happy everyone was to meet me?”

“I saw,” Eli said dryly. Her hand came down to smooth over Nico’s hair, put up in her trademark pigtails with big pink ribbons bursting from a wealth of fresh roses. “You’re supposed to rest, Nico, not do meet-and-greets in the cold. What if you fell sick?”

“Bah!” Nico dismissed Eli’s concerns airily with a wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t fall sick! Not in the middle of an international tour.”

“Cold germs don’t care about that, Nico. You have to be more careful of your voice.” Eli’s fingers strayed down, grazing over the smooth column of Nico’s throat and sliding under the cashmere scarf. Under her fingertips, she could feel Nico’s heartbeat quicken.

“Why?” Nico asked, smiling up with supreme self-confidence. “I’m the best idol. Nothing will happen to me when I am so loved.”

“Modest as always, aren’t you?” Eli teased. Try as she might, a note of fondness crept into her voice. It was always so with Nico.

“Modesty is for people who have nothing to boast about,” Nico shot back. She wriggled a little, sitting up, and placed her hand on Eli’s cheek.

“If you’re really so worried about me being cold, you know how to warm me up…” she murmured and followed the words with a kiss.

Suddenly Eli felt very warm indeed.

FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T

[fickle]

Ship: Nico/Eli
Fandom: Love Live
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 434 words

***

“I’m soooo tired,” Nico said, throwing herself dramatically onto the couch. She let her arms flop to the side, head lolling back over the arm rest and one dainty foot perched over the back of the sofa. It was a very un-idol-like pose but it did make her fluffy, flouncy skirts fall between her thighs in a way that was as much of a tease as it was modest.

“Being an idol is so exhausting,” she went on to say when Eli didn’t reply. “All the practice, all the singing, all the exercise to keep in shape and worst of all, the jet-lag!”

She huffed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I could fall asleep right here… “ When Eli still didn’t respond, she peeked at the table near the window where Eli was working. Ever since the tour had started, Eli had practically been glued to her laptop! Nico was mystified as to what Eli was doing that was so important that she would ignore her girlfriend but Nico was not going to let it steal Eli from her!

“Anyone who gave me a footrub would have my undying love…” she said, letting her voice trail off suggestively.

When even that didn’t work, she said loudly and with a slight note of exasperation, “Eli!”

“Hm?” Eli answered distractedly without looking up from the laptop.

“What are you doing that’s so interesting you can’t come pay attention to me, your idol star girlfriend?” Nico asked, lower lip jutting out in the pout that her fans seemed to find irresistible.
“Double checking your hotel bookings, your plane tickets, filing your expenses, checking the take from the merchandise sales, reminding the manager of the next place that you require security outside your dressing room, ordering you a masseuse from the hotel’s spa to give you a proper rubdown, keeping tabs on the social media mentions of your concert, arranging an interview for you tomorrow with a list of pre-approved topics—“

Eli looked over, taking off the glasses she’d recently started wearing and rubbing her own eyes. With a pang of remorse, Nico noticed new lines around her lover’s eyes that hadn’t been there when they’d started the tour.

Nico worked hard as an idol, yes, but Eli worked just as hard to make her tours successful – and unlike Nico, Eli didn’t have crowds of screaming fans to reward her.

Well, Nico decided, she’d just have to be Eli’s biggest fan and make sure she never failed to praise her wonderful manager!

FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T

[hatchbacks]

Ship: Akashi & Rakuzan
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 423

***

They’ve just drunk down Shutoku, strong vampire veins let out to pour blood in their glasses. They’ve been taken away, to a secure place; they’ll know what’s happened when they feel the punctures on their neck. But Rakuzan has won this right for their clan, played within the rules for it (they wouldn’t lose; they wouldn’t submit; their leader is too strong).

Akashi’s ascendance has been called meteoric, but it’s not really that he rose. He was at the top from the beginning, great and fierce, fangs not bared but carrying with him persuasion, one eye the color of fresh human blood, spilling out of a wound. He is always hungry; he has taken the blood from the rest of the clan as they have offered it, fangs straight in veins where he can get them, eyes glowing with the power he tastes. They are all powerful in their own ways, all together, and in this world the rich get richer. They defeat the other clans, drink their blood, become more powerful, and it happens over again. They do not gloat in their victory; they only ever take single glasses of blood, one for each of them.

For Akashi it is Midorima’s, a former clan mate, blood familiar and thick in his throat. For Mayuzumi, it is Kimura’s, stronger and more solid than he. Nebuya has chosen Ootsubo, the leader who stands like a shield in front, unyielding; Mibuchi has taken from Takao’s darting figure and Hayama from Miyaji’s loudness momentarily silenced. They drink their blood down quietly, having kept it from clotting until now but the less fresh it becomes the less delicious it is, the more the power seeps away as if through a sieve.

“I must propose a toast,” says Akashi, swirling the blood in his glass, an amusing imitation of humans with their wine if he does say it himself. “To our continued victory.”

“To our continued victory,” they murmur, as if controlled by his strings.

They all take sips, slowly at first, savoring the taste, not quite as rusty and metallic as human blood, fuller. Midorima’s blood hums on Akashi’s tongue like an electromagnet, almost; it’s always been like this but perhaps moreso now. He has been consolidating power, too; moving clans had been a wise decision.

“Another,” says Mibuchi. “To Sei-chan’s leadership.”

Akashi tilts his glass toward the other end of the table, as if in thanks and acknowledgement. Again, the glasses clink, echoing loudly across the dining room. This has been a fine meal indeed.

Re: FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Miyahara, G

[winterstuck]

this is so cute!!! i love the pikachu addition ahhhhhhhh thank you <3 <3 <3

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: 424

***

The road home is long, but perhaps that’s because it’s not a road at all. It’s a journey, laborious; Daiki’s got to set up everything with the person in charge of checking on his mail at the house in Cleveland, get his car checked in so he can leave it at home, clean out the arena (always longer after an end to the season that comes too early, an unwelcome result; it feels as if all effort’s been lost). He’s got to book a flight that takes him home, to Tetsu; he’s got to call Tetsu and of course he has work and can’t be at the airport after the indirect two-transfer flight path from hell (and Daiki’s used to getting shitty flights from place to place, long across the country, though those are less frequent considering how close to the middle they play). But what’s a few more hours when the road’s this long, when it had started when he’d left Tokyo in September, and promised to return?

It feels like for fucking ever when he lands in Narita, finally gets to step onto real ground; people all around him are yelling in Japanese and he needs to find his baggage and Tetsu’s still at work but fuck. He’s home; it hits him all over again like a rock to the gut in the best kind of way and he almost wants to cry, but he’s not going to do that (he can see the headlines now, two-time NBA MVP crying in the middle of the airport—jilted by lover? Still hung up on disappointing playoff run?) so he heads for the baggage claim.

Daiki almost falls asleep in the cab; he jolts to sort of awake when the cabbie slams the brakes hard and they arrive at Tetsu’s building, quiet and unassuming and out of the way, a facade like Tetsu’s. Daiki pays the driver, who all of a sudden recognizes him, but at least he doesn’t want an autograph and lets Daiki go without a hassle.

Daiki wakes up in Tetsu’s bed with Tetsu peering at him eyes bright in the dark.

“I’m home,” Daiki says, and God, his mouth is so fucking dry.

“Welcome home,” says Tetsu. “Do you need a glass of water?”

“Yes, please.”

He drinks it looking Tetsu up and down, everything he’s missed; it’s still in his hand and spilling when he brings Tetsu in for a hug, breathes him in and kisses his neck. This is worth the journey, a hundred times over.

PROMPT: team miyuki kazuya/oikawa tooru

[nautilics]

Ship: Miya Atsumu &/ Miya Osamu
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major tags: Incest, implied death
Other tags: reposting a screened prompt here!

Prompt:

“I’ve been prepared for almost anything; except absence, except silence.”
― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

FILL: Team Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, G

[putsch]

Ship: kurodaisuga
Fandom: haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 593

***

the fact of the matter is that they fuck up a lot at first. more times than any of them ever want to admit.

moving in together wasn't a fuck up. splitting a two bedroom between the three of them, right near campus, is cheaper than living alone and allows all of them more space for volleyball gear and books and even a place for a couch.

getting together wasn't a fuck up either, although sometimes they have to admit it feels like one because spending time quietly pining had to be less stressful than what they wrought on each other when things went poorly. it was worth it for all the times they could all fall into each other, cuddling and joking and kissing. the couch nor the beds were big enough for three people, but when they pressed together just right it worked.

the fuck ups are a lot of small things, especially at first. kuroo eating the last of the cereal that suga bought and was saving for later. suga trying to wash the sweaters he stole from daichi but shrinking them so they wouldn't fit him anymore. daichi forgetting to buy paper towels on the way home even though kuroo texted him eight time about it. those are little fights, things that they get over with an apology and a promise to fix it next time.

the bigger incidents are more intimate matters of heart. it's suga and daichi teasing each other in the kitchen with inside jokes from their karasuno days until kuroo makes a snide remark so he's included in the conversation again. it's daichi and kuroo getting to share one of the bedrooms because their schedules were nearly identical, but suga can hear them laughing and murmuring through the shared wall until he knocks to tell them to be shut up and go to sleep. it's suga and kuroo curled up together on the couch, kissing or sleeping, when daichi gets back and he can't bring himself to interrupt and goes to be alone.

it always boils down to the same fear that if the other two are close, why do they need me?

they argue about that the most - the number one fuck up that all of them understand to their marrow and yet they all make the same stupid mistake.

it's not that they mean to, they all know that too, but it's hard. none of them have been in a relationship like this before, and the shape of it is new and unwieldy between six hands who all want to make it right without knowing how, and it's inevitable that there are breaks.

but at least, they have figured out how to fix it.

"i'm so sorry." daichi will say, pressing kisses to foreheads and knuckles, "i didn't realize how upset you were. i don't want to make you upset." before asking if there's anything else he should know so he doesn't screw that up too.

kuroo brings home groceries for a week, makes a huge spread for dinner and dessert, holding their hands as he listens and listens and promises, "i'll try not to be so shitty next time."

suga wraps his whole self around them, body like an octopus around two boys decidedly bigger than he is. "i'll make this right, ok?" he says with all his determination. "i'm not going to let us fall apart."

it's not perfect, but it's them, and they know things are going to be okay when the fall back into one another.