2017 Locker for uchiyin

[kayable]

Name (as you'd like it to appear in the subject line for your stocking): uchiyin

Friending Meme Post: (optional) here

Fandoms: yuri on ice, yowapeda, oofuri, love live, danganronpa, 19 days, tamen de gushi, sailor moon, haikyuu, nichijou

Characters/Pairings/Moresomes:

yoi: leoji, viktuuri, saracheva (milasara), otayurio, phichris

yowapeda: manatou, t2, imate, fukuishi

oofuri: abemiha

love live: kotopana, nozoeli

danganronpa: hinanami, ishimondo, sakuraoi, sondam

19 days: zhanyi, mohe

tamen de gushi: sunqiu

haikyuu: asasuga, oikage

Likes: angst, angst, fluff, reincarnation au, maid dress, domestic au, crossovers, unrequited, mutual pining, guanghong ji

Dislikes: nsfw (im underage), noncon, stalking, abuse

Anything else: i like guanghong


Reminder that NOTES are welcome too - just a nice little comment (either plain, or you can even type it up on a nice little graphic/image etc.) for the recipient.


(Comments are going to screened until the reveal on Feb 14. Lockers will be open until the end of Feb.)

Comments

MUSIC... Start!!!!!!!

[(Anonymous)]

Daring! You'll be wild!!

Don't worry, don't worry!
(You're a challenger starting now?)
Don't worry, don't worry!
(No hesitation, go, go!!)
Don't worry, don't worry!
(Don't lose heart, how boring!)
Don't worry, don't worry!
(No hesitation, go, go!!)

The sky is blue today
We'll talk excitedly, too
Say goodbye to your frowns, and don't stop them on their way out!

So, I’ll give this to you. Cheer up! With our smiles just the way they are,
Let’s sing, let’s sing! I’ll give this to you. Cheer up!
Let’s stop worrying and look to our dreams.

Try your hardest, never never never give up
Na NaNaNa Na that's what I wanna be
Try your hardest, never never never give up
Na NaNaNa Na that's what I wanna be

Instead of sitting comfortably, I want to go on adventures
Smiles on our faces, jumping high
Our time never pauses
We'll continue to seek our radiance

Do your best, do your best! Wonderful things
Lie in store for you right ahead
I'm OK, I'm OK!　I'm not giving up!
We'll be happiness makers tomorrow too!

[kiyala]

Leo/Guang-Hong; 416w; G

The difference between Leo's timezone and Guang-Hong's time zone is sixteen entire hours, and sometimes it feels like they might as well be in completely separate dimensions.

It's nice, Guang-Hong thinks, that Leo updates his SNS as often as he does because it gives off the feeling that he's just always around, his phone within easy reach at any time of the day.

Guang-Hong knows it's not true, though. He remembers every single time he sends a message, only to wait several hours before he receives an apologetic reply, Leo saying that he's only just woken up. Guang-Hong hates the feeling of being done with his day before Leo's even gets started. It means that he usually wakes up to a screen full of messages that Leo's sent while he was sleeping—idle chatter that's directed at himself just as much as it is to Guang-Hong. It's a nice feeling, Guang-Hong thinks as he lies in bed each morning, scrolling through the messages, knowing that Leo has been thinking about him. If Leo thought about him even half as much as Guang-Hong thought about him, it would make him the happiest person in the entire world.

At least when they both have the time, they'll sit in a video call, and the difference in timezone doesn't feel like it matters for a while because they're both there, they're both happy, even if one is tired and the other is only just waking up. Even if Guang-Hong is nodding off while trying desperately to follow the thread of conversation, just to listen to the steady, comforting sound of Leo's voice as he talks about the new short program he's putting together with his coach.

"You should sleep if you're tired," Leo speaks up, soft and amused, and Guang-Hong jerks awake, blinking his heavy eyelids.

"Huh? No. I'm awake."

"Guang-Hong," Leo smiles at him through the screen, and it makes his heart skip a beat. "It's fine. You've had a long day. Go to sleep so you're well-rested for practice tomorrow. We'll talk later."

"Promise?" Guang-Hong asks, reaching for his mouse reluctantly so he can hover it over the End Call button.

"Absolutely. You know I'll be right here."

The problem is, right here for Leo isn't the same as it is for Guang-Hong.

"Hey," Leo speaks up. "If you nail that free skate you're working on and win nationals, we'll probably see each other again soon."

That, Guang-Hong thinks with a smile, is all the motivation he needs.

[fic] Fukutomi/Ishigaki, Moving In

[catlarks]

A/N: rarepairs in yowapeda have always been my jam and Fukutomi/Ishigaki is a combination I've never properly written before, so I was happy to try my hand!


It begins with a practical approach, as many things do with Fukutomi.

“I’m graduating from Meisou in the spring,” he says, to an Ishigaki who is browsing the handlebar tape in the bike shop nearest the university campus. “Which means I will be moving out of the Meisou dormitories before that time.”

“Congratulations,” Ishigaki says, caught off-guard and unable to immediately offer a more composed response. Then, as the full weight of what Fukutomi is saying sinks in, he adds: “So… You’re moving?”

Fukutomi shrugs, with an understated roll of one shoulder that seems to say the question goes without answer. Ishigaki isn’t a student at Meisou, isn’t even cycling competitively any longer, not since graduating high school. His work simply brought him to the same city Fukutomi happened to be studying in, and his continued love for cycling — competitively or no — brought him to the same bike shop frequented by one of Hakone Gakuen’s retired kings. Calling them friends feels almost too generous, but Ishigaki has come to accept that the designation is one he’s earned.

To have Fukutomi move away only after all their little chance meetings, casual talks, and slow overtures of friendliness have grown into something comfortable and familiar… It’s something Ishigaki has never thought to consider. He finds, now that he’s thinking about the possibility of Fukutomi walking right back out of his life, he doesn’t much like the idea.

“When I move,” Fukutomi continues, bypassing the question itself in his usual blunt, purposeful way, “I won’t be in a position to rent an expensive apartment under my own power. It would be more expedient to rent with an apartment-mate. Doing so opens up better possibilities for both of us.”

“That’s true,” Ishigaki concedes, into the momentary pause that feels designed for his input.

“I would like you to rent with me,” Fukutomi says. “If that is acceptable to you.”

Ishigaki stops, his fingers stilling in their pass along the row of tapes. His eyes lift to meet Fukutomi’s, watching his impassive face for some sign, some clue as to how he’s meant to process the information he’s been given. They’re friends, yes, but friends who meet once a week in a bike shop to talk about the new parts they’re ordering for their bikes, the routes they like to ride along, the way the wind looks that day. Sometimes they get lunch, when Ishigaki suggests it. Moving in together is a large step up from being friends whose entire acquaintanceship revolves around cycling.

Ishigaki finds that he isn’t entirely opposed to the proposal.

“Moving in together takes a lot of doing,” he says, no longer so willing to throw caution to the wind as he once had been. “If we get an apartment together we’ll have to talk about it. It’s not just one decision.”

“We have time,” Fukutomi says. “We can make those decisions together.”

It shouldn’t be as simple as that. There should be more consideration, more hesitance, more doubt — more problems to be overcome, because nothing worth having has ever come to Ishigaki without a fight. But he finds, the longer he thinks about it, that perhaps it is as uncomplicated as Fukutomi wants to make things. If he’s made these considerations for himself, far be it for Ishigaki to second-guess him.

“Alright,” Ishigaki says. He takes a breath in, allowing the clear air to steady him. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” Fukutomi says, with such conviction as to make Ishigaki wonder whether he’d planned for anything other than acquiescence — whether he’d considered Ishigaki’s agreement a foregone conclusion. “I would like that, too.”

Ishigaki finds that, whether Fukutomi has taken him for granted or not, he really doesn’t mind.

[starkspangles]

It was the quiet mornings that he liked the most. The days that they both had neither class nor work, waking up at a later time than eight am and having a chance to snuggle and sleep in. For a long time Asahi had been the big spoon, thinking it natural for him since he was much larger than Suga. Luckily, Suga had realized the gentle giant was the one who needed warmth at his back, to feel safe and loved.

This also helped the fact that Suga liked to be the last one awake. Even since their days in high school, Suga was the last to rise before morning practice at training camp. In their apartment off campus it also worked for them, seeing as Asahi liked to cook them both breakfast. Maybe not anything too gourmet, but definitely edible and not burnt. (Like when Suga tried making pancakes once and somehow burned through the pan. It resulted in quite a bill for a new stovetop. And pan.)

On this morning in particular, Suga's nose twitched as he awoke, the scent of cinnamon and bacon wafting in from the kitchenette. His boyfriend must have been up for a while, because not a moment later he walked in with a tray of food with two plates and glasses of milk. Asahi smiled and sat on the bed, setting the tray beside his hip and reached out to push bangs from Suga's eyes. "It's already 11:30, you know."

Glancing at the clock atop the endtable, Suga groaned. "That early? You should have let me sleep another hour at least." A deep chuckle came from above him. "Alright, alright. I'm awake. Ish." He sat up and brushed the gunk from his eyes, yawning with a stretch of his arms above his head. When he looked back down, Asahi was moving to a more comfortable position and nudging him over so they could both sit up against the headboard. "Are these... apple cinnamon?" Suga's eyes widened with glee, much more awake.

Asahi smiled with a scratch at the back of his neck. "Yeah. I hope they turned out okay? I haven't tried it before, so they might be weird-"

"Shhh." Suga put a hand over the taller's mouth and quickly reached forward, grabbed a fork and dug right in. As he chewed on it he made a pleasant;y surprised noise. "They're so good! You are now required to make these every week, I hope you know." Another bite, and he finally took his hand from Asahi's mouth.

"Are you sure?" Suga nodded, mouth much too full to respond verbally. "Thank goodness." Satisfied with the answer, Asahi started on his own plate.

When they finished, Suga slumped against the headboard and drank the rest of his milk, set his glass down and rested his head on the taller's shoulder. "Thank you, Asahi. That was delicious. I really liked the cinnamon in there."

The brunet smiled, ruffling a bit of Suga's hair. "Glad you enjoyed." After a moment of silence, he turned to try and look down at his boyfriend's face. "Don't go falling asleep though. You know the rules. You have to do the dishes." A loud fake snore came from him, and Asahi chuckled. "You're not fooling anyone. Get up."

Suga made an annoyed whining noise, but they both knew he was just playing around. If he didn't do the dishes, who would make him those amazing pancakes again? Plus, he liked flicking soap suds at Asahi because he'd bet the gentle giant couldn't stop himself from helping when those puppy eyes asked him.

And that's exactly what happened.