Bonus Round 4: Official Art

[referees]

Bonus Round 4: Official Art

This round is CLOSED. Late fills can be posted, but they won't receive points.


Memorable canon moments, bizarre omakes, tantalizing magazine spreads—this is the round to explore them all. Bring out your screencaps, promotional art, and manga pages, and let's talk about what really happened.
Please read the rules carefully before posting!

RULES

• Submit prompts in the form of a canon screencap from one of our nominated fandoms along with a ship. Screencaps can be from an anime or manga, as well as any other kind of offshoot media, e.g. official art, drama CD covers, light novel illustrations, magazine covers, and/or caps from games. Doujinshi, fan-made games or any other fan-created work should not be prompted, even if you receive permission. Only prompt screencaps that are taken from a piece of canon media.
• Keep your prompt concise. Don't prompt a whole manga chapter, for example.
• Upload the cap somewhere (imgur works well) and post here with the images themselves or a link to them.
• Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Riko & Momoi). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Riko/Momoi). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
• Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work inspired by the cap.
• Fills can be directly connected to the cap, e.g. panel redraws or writing fic that fleshes out the moment that was capped or that fleshes out what happened directly before/after, but fills can also be more indirectly linked. As long as the work is somehow inspired by the cap, it counts.
• Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

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, including Grandstand or Sports Teams Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Place the prompt's relationship in the first bolded line of the comment. Including the canon isn't required, but it's nice. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example	FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E) Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable) NSFW FILLS: Post written/text fills directly to the round with clear tags. Please link to art/visual fills. You can include a small safe-for-work preview if you'd like. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] Replace RATING with the rating of your fill, G - E, as explained in the rules Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable NSFW FILLS: Post written/text fills directly to the round with clear tags. Please link to art/visual fills. You can include a small safe-for-work preview if you'd like. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example

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.

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 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each

All scored content must be created new for this round.

Etc.

If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.

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

Comments

FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/IZUMIDA TOUICHIROU, G

[elucidatedlucy]

Major tags: None
Additional tags: Trans characters, honestly this is a silly way of taking this prompt
Word count: 567

Imaizumi snorted. "Those two would get along famously." The words came out in a derisive whisper, with what little he knew of Hakogaku's former ace climber - but would they really? He frowned for a moment.

Jinpachi Toudou was the child of one of the more affluent families in the Hakone region, in comparison to Naruko. Even in what little he'd allowed him or Onoda to see of his family's small busy house, it was obvious that the most expensive thing he'd ever owned in his entire life was that flashy bike he played up so much.

"...Onoda," he murmured, over the screams of the crowd around, carried into an uproar by Naruko's play. Pointing, he asked, "Do you think he'd ever get on well with someone rich?"

The climber startled for a moment, but puffed out a cheek in thought without questioning his curiosity, before she answered, "Well, if they were polite, maybe! Naruko likes Makishima, I think ... and we're all friends! So ..."

"Friends." He shook his head. "Right, right ... thank you." Returning to his musing, he considered it. Toudou and Naruko meeting, probably on bikes - that was how all of them tended to know each other. More so, it would be further from the obvious show of wealth - Toudou was shorter than Imaizumi, as well, which was already another point in their favor when it came to Naruko. Maybe it would be at an awards ceremony, he thought, and nodded. Of course. Naruko would like that, as well - winning for the all rounder section, jumping up on stage, and he could hear his caterwauling in his ears already.

"I'm Shoukichi Naruko," he'd yell, with a massive grin, "And you haven't seen the least of what I've got ta offer!" He'd point to his fans, raise up his arms, and probably cry out, "Y'all better come tomorrow, so I can give you a real show!"

And mere moments after he handed off his microphone, to allow the climbers to be awarded, Toudou would take the microphone with elegant fingers, throw their hair behind their ear, and announce, "You may be interested in seeing this redhead, but allow me to give you more reason to arrive, to see just how far my Sleeping Climb can go under true duress!"

Out loud, Imaizumi muttered, "Makishima wouldn't be there, would she ..."

"What?" Onoda piped up.

"N-nothing," he sputtered, beginning to realize how absurd this thought process was. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from imagining Toudou and Naruko meeting eyes on the stage, smirking at one another, and accepting the other's presence - each of them waving to the crowd before taking their leave from the stage. Some kind of showy rivalry, somewhat like what Naruko loved to play up with Tadokoro - yet in this case, Imaizumi couldn't stop himself from wondering about the two of them discussing fans - the one with tons of fangirls, and the other with just as many fanboys - until the terrible thought of even Naruko being a fan of Toudou's sprung to mind. Even worse, Toudou falling for -

"What am I doing," he groaned, dragging a hand down his uncomfortably sweating face. The thought of Naruko and Toudou gazing into each other's eyes, hands tightly locked together, was locked into his mind. He had watched far too much Love Hime for his own good.

FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G

[onceakoala]

omg i thought i fucked up by filling a prompt for my own team by accident and then realized IM GRANDSTAND SO I CAN DO IT AHAHHA we get points after all!!! (it's such a dumb fill tho, i'm sry......)

FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/IZUMIDA TOUICHIROU, G

[luckycricket33]

no warnings



"Are the stars pretty tonight, Maki-chan?"

FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/IZUMIDA TOUICHIROU, G

[elucidatedlucy]

Major tags: None
Additional tags: AU - Fantasy, trans character
Word count: 2032

Onoda watches Imaizumi put on his gloves - he takes his time, smoothing out the wrinkles and brushing away hair and dust that had alighted upon the leather. From her chair, from her place, she wonders if he would reconsider. It is still possible to turn back - it should always be possible, as long as he is at her side.

When he allows his hands to fall to his sides, and walks forward, she can see the even set of his shoulders, despite the crimson cape that fluttered at his back. The cold sweat it sets upon her answers her own fears.

"I'll be back," he says.

There is no one that Onoda can believe like Imaizumi. Yet as hard as she tries, here, there is no way. When she moves to open her mouth, admit some quiet worry, a suit of armor raises a hand to her cheek, frozen enough to make her hair rise. He walks from the platform without looking back - without knowing.

When he steps onto the minute hand, the clock begins ticking.

"For our kingdom," a dusting of gold rains down, as long as it had waited for the next cycle. "For our future," a whisper of fog floats up, slowly awakening with time, coiling around their feet. "For eternity," a crowd now, and no one at all, further away, awaiting their sacrifice.

"For the princess," a single voice says, and tears land upon Onoda's hand before she realizes - but the metal keeps her silent, set into her teeth and bones until she is nothing but an observer.

Upon the hands, another knight walks, on the hour hand - and she knows him, as well, someone who had saved her life at one time, and left her to die another, for his own prince's sake. No matter what she did, she couldn't hold a grudge against him.

"You're doing very well, Imaizumi," Ishigaki says, hardly audible over the wind the pendulum below set off. "I'm glad if it had to be anyone, that it's you."

She strains in her seat, squinting through the showy mask they'd forced onto her instead of her normal glasses. Imaizumi draws a sword, but holds it length-ways across both his hands. "I wish I could say the same to you," he answers, "But there are a few dozen people I'd rather see here." She can barely make him out, beyond his cape.

Ishigaki laughs with a warmth that cannot break the pressure of the trial - it only makes Onoda shiver more, until he says, "Fair enough!"

Imaizumi does not wait for the minute hand to reach Ishigaki's platform - under her breath, she whispers, "Be careful," as thinly as she can see his feet traverse the thin line to the center.

So many times in the past, the two of them had practiced with Naruko, for his former place in circus and magic with Kinjou, upon balance beams and tightropes. He wouldn't fall - he shouldn't - but there was something different about the darkness in this arena, and the way it pulled even upon her dress when she tried to pull up the hem, when she tried to inch forward off her seat for a better view.

"I'll catch you if you fall." His words echo from the past, secret, gentle, and only for her. "If you're willing to put yourself on the line like this, I'll make sure you get through to the end." Princesses are not meant to practice footwork upon trees and swords - if she is someone like that, she was meant to be a prince, and not the girl she fought to make people believe she truly is - but Naruko and Imaizumi kept her secret. They let her be the princess - they let her make her own way.

Onoda's fists ball up, until her nails dig into her skirt, and it is the first clang of metal meeting that drags her out of her memories of forests and friendship and freedom.

"Oh, very nice!" It is Ishigaki who speaks over the clash, wearing a smile wide enough to be even clear from her seat. "Beginning with an underhand feint? I'd love to meet who taught you that."

"I don't think he has the time to spend on someone like you," Imaizumi spits back, enough to make Onoda wince. The two of them - they had been friends of a sort, once upon a time - before these tournaments set in - before these expectations - he had looked up to Ishigaki, as she herself had. "If you need lessons from him, I'll be the proxy to give the last one you ever need, personally!"

Sparks flicker off each time they meet, Ishigaki's smile growing more strained with every strike, and of course - of course, Imaizumi could win, but the clock continues to move, until the center plate has twisted to where she can see his face, grim and dark and final.

It is not right.

There are no weapons - her dress is new and stiff - but her eyes land upon her guard made only of metal and insidious magic, lingering upon them to force them to prove something she herself would never understand. Onoda keeps her gaze on the fight, as she edges closer to the chair, and raises a hand as discretely as she can, struggling to keep her hand in the air against the heavy fog that grows by the second. She has not chosen what to fight for, yet.

Someone screams - and her hand jolts, smashing into the armor, and her mouth opens in a pained screech as well, as though her skin was turning to ice and crushing her bones. At the knight's stage, through teary eyes, she could see Imaizumi stagger back - she hadn't been paying attention - his cape hangs from only one clasp, clutching the opposite shoulder.

"Is that all?" Ishigaki sighs. "I didn't want Midousuji to be the cause of your end, either ... I was hoping maybe we could ..."

"What," Imaizumi gasps, tripping back over his own cape. "Shake hands and go our separate ways?" He forces out a laugh, only making himself fall into a coughing fit, struggling to say, "If you wanted better, you wouldn't have stepped out here so willingly!"

Onoda wrenches her hand away from the armor's grasp and rips the knife out of its hilt, even as her hands turn white and red and begin to crack.

"I can't say no if it's for Kyoto's sake, Imaizumi."

She rips through the bell of her dress, until she strikes the wire petticoat, blood beginning to seep through the dry frozen cuts in her hands and across the fabric.

"You had all the choice in the world!"

There is no space in the minutes or hours for her, but the seconds spin around just as quickly, as thinly as they ever would, as dangerous. Onoda only wastes two seconds thinking, before jumping out of her own shoes and landing on the weak looking bridge. It bends under her weight, but she is already running, not looking at anything but how Kyoto's knight advanced on her own - the person she loved.

"Maybe we aren't as similar as I'd thought we were. Maybe if you'd become a captain knight, too, you'd understand," he murmurs, and in some way, she knows she couldn't have heard if she was not so close, if she was not running towards him, feet sticky against metal. "At least I have the chance to say goodbye."

He raises his sword - Imaizumi turns away, a silent apology upon his lips - and Onoda screams.

She could have reached before that if she'd stayed silent, but it gives Ishigaki time to move, and her knife meets his blade - and shatters. She falls back, scattered by the sound, the weight still harsh in her hands, and only just catches the disappointed look on his face before he swings again.

"Move, Sakamichi!" She doesn't need to question whose voice it is, a fire burning in her chest at hearing him say her name for once, even as the two of them tumble across the stage. The recoil of Ishigaki's sword is unpleasant, but from the way he yells in pain, she knows it was worse on him.

Imaizumi rolls to a stop, still holding her tightly in his arms, wire cutting into her legs and the leather of his pants, before she scrambles up, touching his cheek.

"Are you alright?" she whispers, fiddling with the mask on her face, trying to look for blood, injuries - seeing a hard bruise blossoming across his cheek. Her hands move to cup his face, shaking, but he grabs her first, and pushes her to the side.

"Get out of here," he hisses, after he evades another strike from Ishigaki. She tries to whisper back, just to refuse him, but his steps echoing closer to her make the words die on her tongue.

"Two opponents?" Ishigaki's gaze lands on Onoda first. "If you're on this stage, that means you aren't even a princess ... I'm so sorry, Onoda." He levels his blade at her neck. "I'm shocked your kingdom would have lied for so long. I wish I could do something to avoid this ..."

"I am a princess!" She tries to scamper back, eyes widening. "They didn't lie! But I ... I couldn't stand aside. Ishigaki, sir, please! I know there's a better way than this. Why do we have to have these duels?" He slashes at her legs and Onoda barely rolls out of the way, the weight of ice beginning to set into her ribs. "I don't want to accept this!" He won't look at her - but behind, Imaizumi is looking only at her - he meets her gaze. "We shouldn't have to."

"I'm sorry," Ishigaki says, unaware of her knight's single sure nod. He raises his sword - and Imaizumi slides over his own.

She grabs the hilt as though it was made for her, well practiced in the heavy weight of Imaizumi's weapons, the only ones she regularly had access to, and it is easy to stop Ishigaki's strike - his blade slides down her own, and he loses his balance. It gives her the space to force herself to her feet - throw away her mask - pull the glasses hidden in her loose bodice onto her face.

"I won't let any knight be killed for the sake of a game like this!" she yells, as Ishigaki struggles to regain his composure. "And," alighting a shaky smile upon Imaizumi, "I especially would never let my knight struggle alone."

Ishigaki shakes his head and strikes, more aggressively than before. "If it isn't a knight who takes it, then it can only be a prince. If you're not the princess, Souhoku has no sacrifice to offer, either. Everything will fall apart. No one will be given the time they need. Every kingdom will crumble." He slashes, but Onoda dodges underneath, and slams the pommel into his side.

When he drops to his knee, she takes nervous steps back towards Imaizumi, pressing a hand to his chest. He is still alive - still warm. It makes it easier to breathe.

"I ..." Her words come out as gasps despite that boon, until Imaizumi hovers his hands over hers at the hilt. "I can never be a prince! I'm not trying to. I've always been the princess. And I always will be." Ishigaki rises, but his skin is gray - he can hardly hold his sword any longer. "I don't know how, but I know that no one planned for me to be who I am!" If she was not the princess, it would have to be Kanzaki, and she would never allow the burden of sacrifice to fall to her - and now, she knew, she would never allow it to fall to anyone ever again. "So if I'm so unexpected ... we'll find a way to trump every single one of those rules."

Imaizumi smiles against her cheek. "I agree."

Re: FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/IZUMIDA TOUICHIROU, G

[luckycricket33]

"are you saying you want to see me wearing less next time? ;Dc"
"...you can wash this yourself"

FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, E

[aeglos]

not safe for work. no archive warnings apply.porn, lapslock, established relationship.
917 words





matsukawa issei is a closet romantic.

he’s someone who treasures the little things in life (and there’s a short joke waiting to happen. hajime can hear him smiling into it already). he likes nosing at hajime’s neck after cat naps, and sometimes he’ll wrinkle his nose even after hajime’s showered and clean. he thinks he’s funny.

but issei does like the way hajime buries his face into his shoulder, undercut hair soft against his forehead. he likes lazy, morning sex when hajime kisses him awake, drops extra kisses soft on his skin while issei is still half-asleep. he sports riotous bedhead while he stretches out, content as an oversized cat. hajime isn’t even a morning person, but issei would sleep until noon if allowed.

“morning,” he mumbles, and if hajime were forced to it, he’d admit that the way he rubs sleep from his eyes is pretty cute. (i’m kind of a handful, issei had admitted, anxious face disappearing to make way for his usual mischievous smile. hajime had nearly quit right there, to live the single life, when issei continued, more than a handful, but i’m not one to brag. you wanna see for yourself--but he’d ducked hajime’s punch and gone for him, scooping him up to lift hajime in the air, arms tight around his midsection.) they have a similar sense of humor, even if issei will go for the blow below the belt (and waggle his eyebrows at the expression). he’s easy to read, easy to be with.

hajime kisses first, the response time between issei waking up and issei kissing back remarkably fast. he’s awake, the fucker, he’s definitely awake, but issei shuts his eyes and lays back down, bedhead crashing down on his pillow, and lets his smile spread on his face, slow and sweet. “hajime,” he smiles, but he won’t fall for it--not today, so he strokes his hands across the soft expanse of issei’s chest, down his soft stomach and rests them on his waist. he traces the outline of issei’s dick, hard in his pajama pants, and grins.

sometimes, issei is actually proactive in the morning. he’s the kind of guy who wakes up to have sex, and when issei drags him by the shirt to rest on top of him, chest to chest, he bucks up his hips to get their dicks to brush together. it short-circuits hajime’s train of thought, but he can still catch the gleam of amusement in issei’s eye when he smiles, peeking up at hajime to see--to confirm--the reaction he’s sure to get.

he’d like a lot to spend the whole day in bed, going back to sleep so he can wake up to fuck issei in the afternoon hours. or maybe just take it easy now and coil issei from his lazy, sprawled-out position to something a little more high-tension, until he’s panting from exertion and he twists them around, rolls them over in bed to ease himself on hajime’s cock in his eagerness. (well, maybe not. if hajime has to hear oikawa say ‘microtears’ in that disapproving voice one more time, he’ll deck him for real.)

but it’s hard to think about his stupid best friend when issei shifts, it’s hard to think about anything at all when he pushes apart hajime’s legs until he’s straddling his thighs. hajime can brace his hands on issei’s shoulders, but he prefers to put them palms-down on the bed, like he’s doing push-ups. his fingers curl in the sheets. “okay?” issei breathes, and hajime nods, the air boiling in his body when issei finally, finally gets his act together and fists both their dicks in his grip, slick and loose.

“fuck,” hajime manages, and issei huffs a shaky laugh--and somewhere in it there’s a just me, not god joke that he doesn’t even have to say.

he could stop the jokes just by kissing him again, but he likes the small, broken pants issei makes when he’s getting close. “sei, sei,” and hajime’s own voice is embarrassingly soft, choked-off and strained when issei jacks them faster, hands so slippery they add to the squelching noise between their legs. his limbs shake. just like push-ups.

and maybe hajime is something of a closet romantic too, but when they’re cocooned in bed with morning sunlight spilling between the blinds, it’s hard not to be. issei’s hips snap up and hajime drops down his head to kiss his collarbones, his neck, flush creeping up his skin from underneath his sleep shirt. “come on, sei,” hajime breathes, and grinds down his hips, fucks into issei’s loose grip and watches him take shuddering breaths.

release is easy, electric jolts from issei’s hands and the slick skin of his shaft against his own, issei’s quick thrusts growing shaky. hajime nearly collapses on top of him with the sheer relief of it, pleasure and sweet sugar running under his skin. issei’s mouth is open, groaning exhales lilting in hajime’s ear, and hajime doesn’t even care about the mess, just pushes himself off his boyfriend and lays down next to him, body still heaving from the effort of keeping himself upright.

“mm, morning,” issei breathes again, when he can, and looks down at his stained fingers and their clothes. “laundry?”

it takes half an hour for anything to run in the washer, and another thirty for the dryer. hajime can do a lot in an hour. “okay,” he agrees, and issei’s laugh curls up from his mouth and into another little kiss.

FILL: TEAM FUKUTOMI JUICHI/KINJOU SHINGO, Rated: T

[thebikiestdad]

major tags:slight implied nsfw
[no actual nsfw, just a meme]

FILL: TEAM FUKUTOMI JUICHI/KINJOU SHINGO, Rated: G

[thebikiestdad]

No major content tags

Re: PROMPT: Team Aoyagi Hajime/Teshima Junta

[hapaxlegomenon]

Goddamn

PROMPT: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/TESHIMA JUNTA

[hapaxlegomenon]

Aoyagi Hajime/Teshima Junta; Yowamushi Pedal



Take me to church

[catlarks]

ROUGE I AM CRYING THIS IS! SO BEAUTIFUL!!

Kinjou feeling left out. :') My heart. :') I have basically real life Will Smith posed for your art because I'm visiting with Ciry and I just SHOVED MY LAPTOP AT HER like, CIRY LOOK! LOOK AT THE BEAUTIFUL THING MY TEAMMATE HAS MADE! I'M SO PROUD!!

I'm so happy you did so well. ;_______;

FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, G

[aeglos]

no archive warnings apply. lapslock.
1350 words




on mondays, it’s egg salad. “it’s hard to wake up,” lev says, and morisuke can’t quite disagree enough to kick him. he doesn’t even bring a lunch of his own, just buys something from the canteen and eats outside.

it’s an unspoken agreement that their volleyball club all eat together when they can, since it’s a pretty nice excuse for their captain to feed his gamer boyfriend without arousing suspicion. kai is already sprawled out on the grass, empty lunchbox bare even of flecks of rice, and morisuke turns a blind eye to inuoka hurriedly scrawling his sixth-period literature homework while taking bites of croquettes. he does, however, laugh with the group when inuoka misses his mouth, sauce smeared on the tip of his nose.




on tuesdays, it’s a hamburger steak lunch. furikake flakes dot the ends of lev’s chopsticks, dwarfed by his long fingers, and morisuke chews the last of his karaage while lev tries to pick up the little grains of rice, stuck together, one by one. “senpai,” he whines, and morisuke’s fist gently connects with his forehead.

“quit playing with your food,” he scowls. “just eat it.”




wednesdays is some kind of chicken, and lev tears into it happily. “my mom makes good chicken,” he says with his mouth full, and taketora gets a faceful of it. he grimaces, before taking a big bite of his onigiri in answer and showing lev the half-chewed contents of his mouth. “ugh, senpai, that’s really disgusting--”

it’s not like morisuke intends to keep hitting him, but the concept of proper manners never seems to make itself known to lev unless they were instructed wordlessly. lev doesn’t have time to duck the kick morisuke aims at the back of his knees, and taketora gets away with a knuckle sandwich to the top of his head.

kuroo watches them all with an amused smile, content on watching kenma play, and stops morisuke only when he catches a teacher approaching.




on a thursday, it rains.

it’s a particular thursday, and when pressed, in the far future, morisuke couldn’t tell anyone what meal lev had eaten that day. the rain was so loud and so oppressive it clouded the mood of his classroom, and kuroo had scuttled off to kenma’s classroom to disturb the second-years there while feeding him lunch--but not before throwing him a wave and a smile.

he doesn’t sit with anyone else, really, not when the volleyball club provides him an automatic seat among a group of friends. “senpai?” lev’s wide eyes are always some shade of curious, but he’s sopping wet from head to toe. he waves his lunchbox in one hand, knotted tie a mess around his neck as water droplets fall from wet hair. “i thought we were still sitting outside!”

“idiot,” morisuke frowns, but he’s already standing up and grabbing his own lunchbox. “why would we eat in the rain?”

“i couldn’t find anyone,” lev says sadly, and follows morisuke out the door. water drips down onto his collar, and from the ends of his sleeves. “well, i found kenma-san first, but he looked busy. and kuroo-senpai said that kai-senpai went to go ask moriyama-san about his math homework, and called him a dog and a skirt-chaser, but inuoka says he’s never met moriyama-san. he does say she’s a math tutor, though.”

“moriyama? from 3-2? she’s pretty,” morisuke shrugs, and lev stops walking. morisuke leaves him behind before noticing the sound of only one pair of shoes against the floor. “hey?”

“does yaku-senpai like people who are good at math?” lev will need to wear his gym clothes to class until his uniform can dry, morisuke decides, before his brain catches up with the question.

“what the--”

“i don’t know calculus yet,” lev frowns, and crosses his arms, lunchbox still in his grip. the gesture squeezes water from the fabric bunched at his elbows. “is that okay?”

“of course it’s okay,” morisuke says. there isn’t a place for either of them now, where he can eat in peace and lev won’t be some kind of wet floor slipping hazard--so he eyeballs the little trail of water lev leaves behind him and makes for the stairs, sitting on the first step close to the railing. “why wouldn’t it be? sit down and eat, lev.”

lev sits on the third step, using his sodden lap as a table while he eats. the rainy air outside is in the stairwell, too, and morisuke tries to finish his tamagoyaki to give lev enough time to change. “senpai,” lev sighs, like he’s confessing something, and morisuke turns his head to look up at him. “i like eating lunch with you.”

“oh. yeah. we’ll all eat together again tomorrow, when the rain clears.”

“i like eating lunch with you,” lev insists, and morisuke wonders for a second if he’s speaking russian. (but lev doesn’t know much russian. he’s half, and looks it, but japanese is native to his mouth. he’d said so himself, after the third-years had suffered their last module of world literature together, and winced after looking at kai’s neat tolstoy notes as much as anyone else.) “i don’t know that many people here, and nekoma’s a great school, but senpai’s the only person i really, really, really like.”

“to have lunch with?” morisuke manages, still trying to follow--if this is some kind of weird haiba joke, he’ll kick him down the stairs.

“that too,” lev shrugs, the movement liquid grace through his shoulders. “we could not be eating lunch and i’d probably still like it. senpai is the person who helps me the most,” he grins, face brightening up as morisuke puts down his chopsticks. it’s hard to eat and think at the same time. “we should eat lunch together all the time,” lev concludes.

“we do.”

“oh. could we eat lunch separately, but together?” lev’s eyes are green as the grass outside, after a full day of rain. morisuke isn’t even quite sure lev knows what he’s asking.

“sure,” he says instead, and lev leaps off the stairwell in his joy. his shoe slips on the floor, still slick from the water in his uniform, and morisuke barely manages to catch him before cracking his skull on the floor. “jesus--”

“ah, senpai, you caught me! good thing you were already so close to the ground--”

morisuke leaves him in the stairwell, and finishes his lunch in 3-5 alone. when kuroo comes back, he gives him the evil eye in response to his “oho?” and almost considers not sharing his history notes.




friday is the day lev doesn’t bring anything at all, just spends a little pocket money in the canteen the way morisuke does on lazy mondays. but the next friday after his little rainy-day confession, he brings not one but two lunches, and hands one over to morisuke immediately.

fukunaga laughs at the sight of lev’s lunchbox in his hands, and morisuke would punch him too if he weren’t already about to choke on his food. taketora pounds him on the back while kuroo eyes them both, as if they were critical in-match developments, a sneaky grin crawling across his face.

“you couldn’t have given this to me while we were on our way here?” morisuke says weakly instead, and lev positively sparkles at him.

“no! senpai! an ace stakes his territory! aaaghh--” and out of sheer spite, morisuke yanks lev down onto the grass, dry and a healthy green under their sprawled legs.

there are two portions of a large, large meal divided into separate boxes, but it’s a matching lunch, down to the same set of utensils. after morisuke opens it, he chews tentatively at the food--it’s just tamagoyaki and rice and chicken--but it tastes different, and lev watches him eat before digging into his own food.

“it’s not bad,” he admits, and lev’s smile stays on his face until he’s running laps at practice.




((and on monday--a particular monday--lev will probably have egg salad sandwiches for lunch again, but morisuke will return the favor. he can learn to mash eggs and mayonnaise like anyone else.))

FILL: team imaizumi shunsuke/naruko shoukichi, T

[pastatrap]

no major content warnings apply

words: 518

It had been two weeks, and Kyoutani still padded along behind Iwaizumi cautiously at volleyball practices (on the rare occasion he chose to show up), like a street dog following a stranger that tossed them scraps. He never inched too close, just stared at Iwaizumi hard as he did as he was told. Iwaizumi was starting to get worried.

“Iwa-chan~!” Oikawa’s sing-song voice is pitchy as always as he drapes himself across Iwaizumi’s shoulders one Saturday. “I can’t believe you’re cheating on me. I can’t believe I lost to dog.” He sighs dramatically into Iwaizumi’s ear, warm and loud. Iwa-chan knocks his head against Oikawa’s mouth in retaliation on reflex, and he wonders what Oikawa knows about Kyoutani that he doesn’t.

Oikawa rolls onto his back with a theatrical whine and a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, prodding gently at his possible split lip with long fingers. “You’re such a brute, no wonder Mad Dog-chan likes you so much. Maybe he thinks you’re the alpha dog he’s been looking for to set a lone wolf like him straight.” His tone is light and his smile is teasing, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something dark and calculating in his stare, and Iwaizumi feels like it’s more of an accusation than a teasing prod.

“I don’t actually think he likes me,” Iwa-chan says with a crease between his eyebrows. “He never really says much to me at all.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow further. “Of course he doesn’t, Iwa-chan. If he talked to you for more than five minutes, he’d realize you aren’t a pack leader or whatever he thinks he’s found. You’re a kitten.” The smile drops from Oikawa’s face, and Iwaizumi is about to hit him for being irritating until Oikawa continues, “A kitten with like, toned biceps.”

Iwaizumi hits him twice for how loudly he laughs at his own joke.

--

Kissing Kyoutani is dangerous, Iwaizumi finds out the following Monday. He doesn’t touch Iwaizumi anywhere, just balls his fist in Iwaizumi’s shirt and slams his open mouth onto Iwaizumi’s lips. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, that much is clear, but he’s determined. Iwaizumi had not expected this to happen when he asked Kyoutani why he’s always staring as he drops a bag of balls into the corner of the empty club room.

Iwaizumi’s teeth hurt from Kyoutani knocking against them, and he jabs an elbow into Kyoutani’s collarbone until he stops trying to gnaw a hole in Iwaizumi’s bottom lip.

Somehow, the first thing out of Iwaizumi’s mouth is, “What the hell kind of kiss was that?!” Kyoutani’s jaw tenses and he looks like he might throw a punch.

“You have to go slower or you’re gonna knock my teeth out, you know,” Iwaizumi says, softer this time, because he can’t ignore a kouhai in need of direction. Kyoutani leans back in slowly, without a trace of hesitation, his eyes open and watching, and Iwaizumi shouldn’t be surprised by his obedience.

“Stick your tongue out,” Iwaizumi mumbles after a moment of silence, his face red as he opens his mouth.

Re: FILL: TEAM MATSUOKA RIN/NANASE HARUKA, PG-13

[myriahkamm]

Oooooohhhhhh this is awesome! Thank you! =3

Re: FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, G

[krankran]

I'm going to cry, I love this fill so much look at these precious second year idiots (and Ennoshita)

Thankyou so, so much o(*≧□≦)o

FILL: TEAM FUKUTOMI JUICHI/KINJOU SHINGO, G

[krankran]

Warnings: none



After seeing the other Kate Beaton fill, I couldn't resist.
Origional comic here. Kate Beaton is literal goddess

PROMPT: Team Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga/Kise Ryota/Kuroko Tetsuya

[ali_kise]

Mibuchi/Akashi or Mibuchi/Hayama or Mibuchi/Nebuya (Kuroko no Basket)

PROMPT: Team Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga/Kise Ryota/Kuroko Tetsuya

[ali_kise]

Kise Ryota /& Kagami Taiga (Kuroko no Basket)

PROMPT: Team Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga/Kise Ryota/Kuroko Tetsuya

[ali_kise]

Kise Ryota /& Kuroko Tetsuya /& Kagami Taiga (/& Kasamatsu Yukio) (Kuroko no basket)

PROMPT: Team Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga/Kise Ryota/Kuroko Tetsuya

[ali_kise]

Midorima Shintarou /& Takao Kazunari (& Kuroko Tetsuya)






I think Shin-chan buying a T-shirt for Takao is too cute! >3

PROMPT: TEAM MAKISHIMA YUUSUKE/TOUDOU JINPACHI

[telenovelas]

Isashiki Jun/Yuuki Tetsuya (Daiya no A)



(For context, Ryousuke is looking at Tetsu's bookshelf, and commenting on what's presumeably a whole bunch of shoujo manga - Jun's favourite. Poor Tetsu has been ruined.)

Re: FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/IZUMIDA TOUICHIROU, G

[elts]

THE CUTEST!!! I'M ON FIRE! i love Maki's expression and reflections in her eyes, Hanayo is prettier and brighter than the stars tbh.

thank you! （○゜ε＾○）

FILL: TEAM FUKUTOMI JUICHI/KINJOU SHINGO, G

[krankran]

Warnings: None?
Word Count: 551

He can’t remember walking home, dragging his feet and his backpack, head filled with white noise and eyes unblinking and staring hard at the ground.

On Autopilot back to his house, that afternoon’s match seeming so far away, yet so close he can still hear the disappointed roaring of the crowd.

Why? Why wasn’t anyone there? Why weren’t you there?!

His house is empty, silent, dark and for once he does not mind. He doesn’t mind because right now, like this, he doesn’t mind much at all.

Kunimi stares at him, face blank, speaking in a tone so aggravatingly calm, Kageyama wants nothing more than to grab him by the lapels of his shirt and throw him to the ground.

His bag falls from his fingers, half in the hallway, half in his room as he drags his feet, and sits numbly on his bed.

Kunimi’s voice is firm. Unyielding. And yet, he sounds so tired. Finished with this conversation before he even began.

His phone vibrates, but he doesn’t care to answer it. Because it’s not who he wants it to be, it’s not anyone bearing goodwill, because why would they? Why would anyone after what has become of him?

You don’t listen. To any of us.

He didn’t realise. A childish excuse, he realises now, staring down at his hands as his thoughts spin so clearly in the white noise that is his brain. But it was no excuse.

You hold your head up high, and think you're far better than we are. Maybe you’re right. But you have no right.

He had no idea, so he couldn’t stop. Didn’t stop. Even if he realised his words were harsh, that he was cutting deep, he thought it was fine, they could take it. Because in the end they would win if everyone just tried harder.

It stops Kageyama in his tracks. Words he has heard before, but the weight they carry overwhelm him, smother him.

It wasn’t that he overestimated. But he had pushed too far, he now realises, forced the boundaries far beyond their breaking point.

You tell us we need to get better, go faster, try harder, as if you know anything about us. About me.

He had tested the limits of their endurance and patience until it burned out and left nothing more than a tired bridge, far too brittle for him to ever cross again.
If they allowed him to in the first place.

You even so as far as telling us how we should feel, as if you even know.

It wasn't that Kunimi was emotionless, as much as everyone else on the team would talk about (would laugh about when he wasn’t there, because Kageyama would ruin the fun, wouldn’t he?).

I can’t do this anymore.

It just that he never had a reason to smile around him.

You’re poison, Kageyama.

Maybe he was.

And I wash my hands of you.

He buries his face in his hands.

He can’t bring himself to apologise. Kunimi looks at him like he doesn’t expect him to.

And feels his heart shatter with regret.

“I’m not sorry.” Kunimi says, face betraying him for a second, and looking as heartbroken as Kageyama felt.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, no audience to hear it, no one to accept it.

Re: FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, G

[elts]

watch me as i quietly weep over this fill and little recognition this pair gets o(╥﹏╥)o

i love the mood here. cool evenings, swinging, talking are so my jam, and combined with ikedai- deathblow. thank you for filling this particular prompt!

"How can anyone be this gorgeous" same, Hayato, same.

[catlarks]

OH MY GOSH RAZ. I'm so proud of my beautiful team for making beautiful, terrible memes, this is wonderful. ;u;