SASO Referees (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
referees) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sportsanime2017-06-11 06:56 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2017-06-11 06:56 pm
Entry tags:
Bonus Round 2: Tic-Tac-Toe
Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. There's a lot of text here, but if you read carefully and follow the instructions step by step, you will be okay.
RULES
Please refer to the first comment thread of this post for an example of how this round works.PROMPTING
- Select a ship to create your prompt card about. Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Haruki & Kazuma). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Haruki/Kazuma). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
- Visit this card generator.
- Here is a visual guide to using it.
- The large text box is where you can list prompts if you have your own ideas. Please list at least 9 prompts; you can list more if you want. (The generator says you need at least 24, but it's lying.) Single words or short phrases are better than sentences.
- Otherwise, you can use the dropdown menu found right below it. Note: some of these prompts lists are NSFW. (NSFW prompts are a-ok as long as you tag for it.) If you don't like some of the options that appear in a prompt list, you can delete them.
- Text prompts only, please. Also, each card square must be unique—don't list the same prompt 9 times.
- In "Configuration Options," make sure you select 3x3 and (Normal prompt). This is the most important step!
- Leave the tic-tac-toe card with its default colors, so everyone can read it clearly.
- Click the "Create a bingo card" button.
- Scroll down to see the card that was created for you. If you don't like the prompts it picked, you can reroll by clicking "Create a bingo card" again.
- When you're satisfied, scroll further down the page until you see a textarea box full of HTML.
- Copy and paste the HTML from the box and into the body of your prompt comment, then post!
FILLING
Fill prompts by selecting an individual square to create fanwork for, then leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work. (Optional:) If you can fill three squares from a prompt in a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line, you get a tic-tac-toe (and an additional point bonus)! You can also just fill prompts as you please and get standard points.
- Prompt squares are labeled as follows:
A1 B1 C1 A2 B2 C2 A3 B3 C3 - If you're trying for tic-tac-toe, you cannot combine squares into one fill. If your fill can satisfy multiple squares, pick the most relevant square: e.g., one square is sailing and another is pirates and you make a fill about pirates sailing, it's mostly pirates so put down the pirates square.
- Each fill must stand alone as an individual piece, but all your fills can slot into a larger universe if you'd like.
- You cannot fill a prompt square more than once, but you can fill every square on a tic tac toe card if you want to.
- You cannot work with your teammates to get a tic-tac-toe. Only individually achieved tic-tac-toes get the bonus.
- Multiple people can fill the same prompt square. You cannot "block" others from getting tic-tac-toe.
- Remember to also 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/images)
- 14 lines (poetry)
Format your comment in one of the following ways:
| If PROMPTING: | If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
| FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [SQUARE], [RATING]
| FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [SQUARE], [RATING]
|
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 for each tic-tac-toe card (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
Tic-tac-toe Bonus: 2 points each for the first 12 achieved by your team
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!
PROMPT: Team Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Major Tags: Sexual content (mentioned)
Other Tags: The "oh no he's hot" prompt collection
Prompt:
Re: PROMPT: Team Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Strong Language, Kittens
Square: "you just picked up a baby/puppy/kitten and suddenly i want to kiss your face off"
Word Count: 1474
***
Otabek had changed since he moved to St. Petersburg; Yuri knew him well enough to see the change in him, even though he had a feeling no one else had noticed. He still pushed himself in training, still treated others with a distant politeness, but maybe it was because Yuri remembered the look on his face over their Skype call, when Otabek was still in Almaty.
“My coach thinks I’d do better under someone else’s tutelage,” he mumbled, lips pursed sourly. “He found me someone he thinks I’d thrive under, in Russia.”
Yuri had wanted to celebrate, because it sounded good to him; a friend in his own backyard he could escape to when Viktor and the Katsudon were being unbearably disgusting. Otabek within arm’s reach, and not just an image on his phone’s screen. But Otabek was so dour, he made it clear he wasn’t in a celebratory mood.
“So what’s wrong?” Yuri prodded. “Is Russia that unappealing to you?”
“What? No. But I barely got back to Kazakhstan two years ago, and I hoped it would be for good.”
Yuri hadn’t really known what to say, never having had to leave his home to pursue skating. In fact, he couldn’t think of anyone who had been tossed around as much as Otabek, from Kazakhstan to Russia to America to Canada – that would take a toll on anyone, even someone with Otabek’s mental fortitude.
So now, the fact that Otabek seemed especially distant was of real concern to Yuri; unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of problem he could solve by scowling at. After a long day of practice, Yuri went home and immediately flopped on his bed, physically sore and mentally exhausted from trying to figure out a way to help his… Otabek-person. Potya hopped up on the bed beside him and started to lick the exposed part of his cheek. In spite of himself, he laughed at the tickling sensation.
“Potya, not now,” he grumbled, turning over and lifting his cat up so his tongue wouldn’t reach. “I know you think I stink, I’ll take a shower later.”
Potya mewled at him, his curious eyes trained on Yuri’s. Eventually he broke, and let the cat sit on his chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled half-heartedly. Idly, Yuri stroked Potya’s soft fur until something clicked in his mind, and he would have leapt out of bed if not for the precious bundle on this chest. He stretched to reach his phone, which had fallen out of his pocket on the other side of the bed, and sent off a message:
--
Despite Mila’s best efforts to scare Otabek about what Yuri was like around animals, Otabek didn’t back out of his agreement to accompany Yuri to the animal shelter; he was, smart enough to be skeptical.
“What could you need to pick up for Potya from the shelter?” He asked as they walked away from the rink, gym bags thrown over their shoulders. “Don’t they only have adoptable pets there?”
“Uh. Copy of her adoption papers,” Yuri lied. “I’m taking her to a new vet and they ask for that shit.”
It was kind of a shitty lie, because Yuri’s acting skills were nowhere near the level of his skating skills, but Otabek seemed to buy it anyways. Yuri led him down the busy, brisk, late fall St. Petersburg streets, until they arrived at the shelter. At the reception desk, Yuri gave his name and asked for the certificate he didn’t need, and then casually added, “Is it alright if we go play with the cats while you get it?”
“Oh, sure,” the girl at the desk smiled. “Do you need me to show you the way?”
He waved her off, already walking ahead. “No thanks. Come on, Otabek.”
They headed into the back, carefully stepping over the dogs that came out to greet them, until they got to Yuri’s favorite section of the shelter: the kittens’ pen. He squatted down by the low wall to offer a hand to the kittens, a few of whom readily came over to sniff his fingers.
“Beka, come on,” he repeated, this time more gently so he wouldn’t scare the babies off. “See?”
Otabek knelt down beside Yuri, and in the small space that reeked of litter boxes his body wash was a breath of fresh air. He hoped it wasn’t obvious how hard he’d inhaled.
One of the cats, a calico with bright green eyes, butted her head against Yuri’s palm, and he obliging scooped her up and held her close to his chest. Otabek was watching her, leaning a little closer, and the fringe on the end of his scarf caught the kitten’s attention. She all but jumped out of Yuri’s arms as she went to swat at the little strings, and it was fortunate that Otabek’s reflexes were quick enough to enable him to catch her.
“She likes you,” Yuri started to tease, only to have his throat dry up when he looked up from the cat at Otabek’s face. He was looking at her so softly that it was almost reverent, lips parted in a silent gasp. The kitten squirmed and Otabek adjusted his arms so as not to drop her; when she settled down, playfully batting at the end of his scarf, he chuckled.
Yuri fought to swallow.
“Hey there little guy,” Otabek murmured gently, brushing his forefinger along the kitten’s belly. “Having fun?”
“G-Girl,” Yuri coughed.
“Huh?” Otabek asked, turning his open expression to Yuri.
“She’s a girl,” Yuri said, voice cracking. “Male calicos are rare.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah.”
Otabek stared at Yuri for a long minute, then turned back to the kitten. “Okay then, girl.” His soft smile was back. “I don’t think she and Potya would get along,” he commented. “They’d both want you to spoil them.”
Yuri physically clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from saying the words that jumped to his tongue. He took a deep breath, then said, “Maybe you should take her home.”
“Me?” Otabek looked up again. “I don’t know the first thing about cats.”
The kitten, Yuri noticed, was licking and biting his finger, and he was allowing it to happen without so much as a wince. He didn’t even answer Otabek, except to raise his eyebrow pointedly.
“I don’t think I could…” he went on, letting his finger playfully bump the kitten’s nose. “I spend too much time at the rink, and she’s going to need a lot of attention…”
“But you’ve been so—“
Yuri cut himself off, but it was too late. Otabek was giving him a quizzical look, his head tilted to one side. “I’m so what, Yuri?”
“So… so fuckin’ upset, lately, and I figured it was because you were lonely, and Potya helps me so I thought—“
“You think I’m lonely?”
“Aren’t you?” Yuri demanded, unnerved by the intensity of his own emotions. “You hate it here!”
Otabek’s gaze dropped. “I don’t hate it here.”
“You didn’t want to leave Kazakhstan. Even though no one there comes close to keeping up with you.”
“Well yeah, I’m homesick. That doesn’t mean I hate it here.” Otabek responded seriously. Then, dropping his voice down lower, “And I’m definitely not lonely. You’re here.”
Yuri’s breath shuddered out of him, and he found himself leaning closer to Otabek. When his mind caught up to what his body intended to do, he shut his eyes tight, but just as fiercely grabbed Otabek by his short hair and mashed their mouths together. He felt the hum of the noise Otabek made against his skin, but just when he’d convinced himself to pull away, Otabek’s fingers were tangling in hair, and his mouth yielded to Yuri’s fervency.
It was the calico’s mewling and scratching at their bellies that made Yuri pull away, unsure of how much time had passed while they kissed. Otabek blinked, then attended to the kitten, cradling her carefully in his palms and depositing her back in the pen with her littermates.
“How…” he started, before clearing his throat. Yuri could see color creeping in Otabek’s cheeks. “How long have you wanted to do that…?”
“I don’t know,” Yuri answered honestly, pushing his hair out of his face. Not only was Otabek not mad, not only did he kiss back, but this was the first time Yuri had ever seen him blush, and it was adorable. “When I saw you with the cat, I just…”
Otabek laughed. “That’s what did it? Not me, but the cat.”
“Shut up,” Yuri huffed, hitting his arm. “You just looked all,” he groped the air in his hands as he tried to come up with the right word. “…Squishy. It gave me squishy feelings.”
“Squishy.”
“Shut up, Beka.”
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
this is really sweet and cute aawwwwww.
Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T
FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A1, T
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: clothes that should be burned, skyping with the parents, sneaking up on the boyfriend
Square: you're literally wearing sweats and a day-old t-shirt HOW ARE YOU STILL HOT
Word Count: 685
All the Kazakh is from google translate/googling around so hope it's not the worst.
***
Yuri is kind of a slob around the apartment. It's not the biggest shock to Otabek, who had years of seeing Yuri's room in selfies and over Skype, clothing costume pieces and equipment tossed this way and that. The lack of attention he pays to dressing himself at him is slightly more of a surprise, because it's barely two weeks of living together before Yuri's dress code defaults to sweats and t-shirts, sometimes the same ones for days running, topped with a palm tree as if even a braid or bun was too much trouble.
Otabek comes home from a long meeting with Yuuri about choreography and is about to call that he's home when he hears the murmur of voices in the kitchen. He kicks off his boots as quietly as he can and slips towards the kitchen in his socks noiselessly, spying like the shamelessly creepy boyfriend that he is.
Yuri is in the kitchen alone, hair pulled up lazily so that it's falling out all over in soft pieces against his neck, sweats double-knotted and still slipping down his hips, wearing the ratty Pyeongchang 2018 T-shirt that Otabek has tried to throw out at least three times. He's wrist-deep in a heap of dough, flour halfway up his arms and smudged across his cheek. His laptop is open on the counter in front of him, facing away from Otabek, and Otabek assumes he has it open on a recipe until his mother's softly-accented Russian comes out from the speakers.
"Don't mix too much or it gets tough. Yes, that's good enough, the same as mine, see?"
"That's it?" Yuri asks, reaching for a towel to cover the bowl.
"That's it," Otabek's mother assures. "Leave it to rise one, maybe two hours, until it reaches the top. If you aren't sure, call back, all right?"
"I'll send a picture when it's done," Yuri promises. Otabek's mother makes an approving noise. And then Yuri adds, "Raxmet, xanim Altin," and the center of Otabek's chest melts into utter goo. He's crossing the room before he knows what he's doing, Yuri just hitting disconnect on the Skype call before Otabek grabs him from behind.
Yuri yelps, then growls when he sees it's just Otabek. "Beka! You gave me a heart attack, dammit!" Otabek cuts off his protests with a long kiss, arms sliding around Yuri's waist to press them close together from chest to knees.
"You're beautiful, zhanym," Otabek murmurs, the kiss migrating to Yuri's cheek, his jaw, his temple. "You're too much."
"Uh, you threatened to burn this entire outfit this morning," Yuri points out. He's standing awkwardly, hands still covered in flour and bits of dough. "It's because you heard me just now, right? If all it takes to get you all hot and bothered is a couple words of Kazakh, leggo and let me wash my hands and I can rock your world, buddy."
That's not exactly the reason, but Otabek laughs and releases Yuri with one more quick kiss, leaning against the counter to watch Yuri wash off. He lets his eyes drag down over the holes stretching up from the hem of Yuri's T-shirt, the waistband of the sweats with the elastic clearly giving out, stopping centimeters above Yuri's bruised ankles and heels sticking out.
"Hm, I know like Meniñ atim Yuriy," Yuri calls over his shoulder. Impatient, Otabek puts his hands back on Yuri's hips, leaning into him from behind and humming low encouragement against the back of Yuri's neck. "And uyge qos keldiñiz and awejayga deyin and tasbaqa."
That makes Otabek pause. "Why do you know the word for turtle?"
Yuri turns in his arms, grabs two fistfuls of his T-shirt with wet hands and kisses Otabek soundly.
"So that you aren't the one who can use stupid pet names." Yuri slips from Otabek's grip and is already through the doorway before Otabek can stop laughing long enough to follow, calling over his shoulder, "Hurry up, meniñ tasbaqa!"
(AN: the Kazakh Yuri knows is thanks Mrs. Altin, my name is Yuri, welcome home, to the airport, and of course, my turtle.)
Re: FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A1, T
FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A2, T
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: hotel shenanigans, "the superhero"
Square: you just got out of the shower and UM
Word Count: 438
***
"Yura," Otabek hollers, leaning out the door of the hotel bathroom, "do you see my deodorant out there, it's not in my…what?"
Yuri is sprawled on his stomach across Otabek's bed, thumbs on his phone, but frozen looking up at Otabek, mouth partially open.
"What?" Otabek says again. He hadn't meant to tease, but Yuri's reaction is flattering to say the least, and Otabek feels like he should make the most of it whenever he catches Yuri somehow off-guard. It's only fair since Yuri takes his breath away without warning about twenty-seven times a day.
"Nothing!" Yuri says, defensive. He looks back down at his phone, but a second later they dart back up again. "What?!"
"I asked you what first," Otabek says patiently. Yuri's cheeks are going pink. It's hard not to laugh at him outright. "You're allowed to look, you know."
"I'm not looking!" Yuri screeches, which is even funnier because he absolutely is. Smirking, Otabek lets go of his towel. "Stop that! Get dressed!"
"I'm trying to, but I can't find my deodorant." At this point, it's all tease as Otabek strolls towards the bed, looking around. He casually strikes a pose which JJ always calls "the superhero," fists on his hips, legs slightly parted. "I just don't know where it could be."
"Bekaaaaaa," Yuri whines in defeat, dropping flat to the bed to bury his face in the comforter. Even the tips of his ears are red.
Chuckling, Otabek climbs into bed beside him and curls up along his side. Yuri groans into the bed when Otabek strokes fingers down the back of Yuri's T-shirt, feeling each bump of his spine one by one. "I like it when you look."
Yuri turns his head just enough to eye Otabek with one suspicious green eye over his elbow. "It's embarrassing."
"Why?" Otabek asks, dragging his hand back up and starting over.
"Because I see you in clingy skating shit all the time and it doesn't make me go all euuuurgh."
"That's work and this is us in a hotel room with a whole," Otabek glances over Yuri, "twenty-five minutes before Victor and Yuuri will be down here pounding on our door for dinner. And for the record, you wearing my T-shirts always makes me go all euuuurgh."
"Shut up, you do not." Yuri cuddles closer.
"I do it on the inside." Otabek leans in closer, lips against Yuri's ear. He slides his hands up the back of Yuri's shirt, his skin smooth and warm under Otabek's palms. "But I know how to solve that problem."
Re: FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A2, T
FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A3, T
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: long-distance relationship, questionable skype activities, terrible designer fashion choices
Square: that is the ugliest shirt i have ever seen but somehow you make it work
Word Count: 436
Link at the end to Yuri's absolutely horrendous shirt. I hope you enjoyed these and i'm super pleased you are using the silly DaiSuga icons I made you guys XD
***
"It's Versace," Yuri informs him, voice deep with scorn at Otabek's lack of taste.
Otabek doesn't even bother to hide the smile as he rests his chin in his hand, elbow on his desk. "Just saying the name of the label half an octavee lower doesn't make the clothing more attractive. There's fourteen patterns on that thing."
"And I rock all of them, thank you very much," Yuri sniffs, one hand on his hip. He turns in a circle as if Otabek has asked him for a 360, pausing with his back to the laptop to look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised like he's daring Otabek to say it's ugly again.
The thing is, and here's how Otabek knows he's done, in way too deep, Yuri doesn't look good in it. Not the shirt especially which is probably damaging Otabek's retinas permanently, but the jut of his hip and sharp look over his shoulder and the curve of his ass in the black skinny jeans just under the hem, the spill of his half-loose hair over his shoulder. If Otabek were there he could forgive the shirt, wouldn't care about it even an iota, because he'd already have his hands on Yuri, on his shoulders and face and waist and thighs. He'd press his mouth to Yuri's and steal all of his air until Yuri was racing to peel that monstrosity off and fling it to the ground.
And then Otabek would be safe because he's well-acquainted enough with Yuri's housekeeping habits to know that once something is on the floor, it's much more likely to be kicked under the bed than to ever make it back into the closet.
"What are you smiling about?" Yuri demands, turning to face the laptop squarely.
"The idea of you wearing that out in public," Otabek lies, just to make Yuri glare at him. He's so cute when he's annoyed, and far too easy to get him there. "Seriously, what did you pay for that thing?"
"Oh, listen to you, Mr. It's Only Money I'll Fly to Canada For the Weekend If I Want To." Yuri rolls his eyes. "For your information, it was a freebie from this morning when I, your attractive and stylish boyfriend, did an exclusive photoshoot for them." Yuri crosses his arms, smug. "What do you have to say about that, huh?"
"I'd say," Otabek leans in towards his camera just a bit, dragging his eyes down Yuri oh so slowly, "that I'd much more like to see you take that thing off."
(this is Yuri's Versace shirt by the way.)
Re: FILL: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, A3, T
also a flipping love the icons you made us, thanks again for that!!! it makes me smile every time i see my icon on things now <3