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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 DAIYA NO ACE
Fandom: daiya no ace
Major Tags: sexual content
Other Tags: alcohol, wild veering from 'slapstick sex goofs' to 'depressing kind-of-comedy', infidelity
Prompt:
FILL: Team Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, A3, R (1/2)
Fandom: Daiya no A
Major Tags: Brief mentions of sexual content, non descriptive.
Other Tags: boys who suck at feelings
Square: A3, "8 Quick Labels For When You Don't Know What The Fuck Is Going On In Your Relationship"
Word Count: 3,542
HI I'M BACK AGAIN, that's 2/2 mei ships you've gotten me on o7
***
Mei has a little list he keeps in the back of his head for Miyuki Kazuya. He's had this same list since he was eleven years old and they first met, and he's mentally scratched off the title of that list since its creation, changing it from year to year, going from "Reasons Why Miyuki Kazuya is the Perfect Catcher for my Perfect Team" to "Reasons Why I'm Going to Crush Miyuki Kazuya at Baseball" to now, "Reasons Why Kazuya is Driving Me Crazy".
There are eight reasons. Eight little things that are driving Mei crazy.
8. his stupid text messages.
hey. what's the code to your apartment?
Mei stares at his phone like it's grown a second head.
It's a late Tuesday night, a day before his next doubleheader with the Swallows. He's supposed to be resting, but Mei ignores the conscious voice that sounds suspiciously like Masa-san in the back of his head to watch another rerun of some dubbed English show with a bowl of ice cream in his lap. He's already in his pajamas, hair soaking wet from a shower, wearing a pair of slippers and considering never moving again, and apparently Kazuya is here.
To his credit, he doesn't get straight up. (The him of eight years ago might be proud.)
are you trying to break into my apt?
wow, yes, Mei, that's exactly why I'm asking for the code. Are you going to let me in so i can steal your valuables?
Mei snorts at his sarcasm, because his valuables are in fact great, but saves the snippy reply for when he gets up and opens the door himself in lieu of the code, telling him very seriously that he doesn't trust him for a second around his good stuff.
Kazuya looks like Kazuya, a little tired, but holding a baseball scorebook under his arm. He's still in his pajamas, sweats and a t-shirt too, a beanie pulled half-assed over his messy brown hair. He has data, he says, about their next game.
Mei lets him in immediately.
They fall asleep together with the scorebook between them, both laid out on Mei's bed. When Mei gets up in the morning, Kazuya's in his breakfast nook, making coffee, and he's gone within an hour.
Mei walks out of the entire experience more confused than he was 24 hours beforehand, but at least he's got a solid one-up on Hongou for this match, for once.
In the future, he'll label this with "When It All Began", like a researcher creating a manic little corkboard of memories. If this list is his board, then this is his very first red string.
7. the fact that he's a bed hog.
It's not the first time that Kazuya stays the night, and it won't be the last. After the doubleheader--one in which Mei, as usual, received glowing reviews for his performance, his excellent fastball that's getting faster every year--Kazuya comes home with him to talk over game stats.
It's always game stats. Mei doesn't mind--he could talk about them all day every day for the rest of his life, too, and he settles in beside him on his own bed, hip to hip as they look over the manager's careful data and watch tapes. Mei shoves him when he points out a dumb face he makes on the mound, looks pleased when Kazuya praises him.
When night falls, Kazuya doesn't go home. He just drops into Mei's bed, where they haven't moved in a few hours, shimmies out of his pants, and rolls onto his side.
And though Kazuya doesn't have an eyemask--he sleeps with his arm over his eyes instead--his other arm falls across Mei's waist when he lays down like it's the most natural spot on the bed. He won't look at him, not when Mei's eyes snap open and he looks down at the offending arm with a mixture of confusion and delight powering the furious little bird beating away in his ribcage that seems ripe to escape out of his throat.
Mei stares at it a little longer. Kazuya doesn't move, his breathing even; Mei's pretty sure he's not asleep, though he's sure pretending.
He shuts his eyes again and doesn't move.
What the fuck?
(Phase two: The ?Accidental? Cuddle. Consider it in bold red ink on his mental list.)
6. his personal space issues.
The next day on the field, Kazuya doesn't come anywhere near him short of where he has to. He's practically got a forcefield up, which isn't surprising, but is definitely jarring because if Mei closes his eyes enough, he can still feel the warm heat of Kazuya's arm over him.
On the surface, nothing seems abnormal between them. They bicker on and off the field, Mei needling at Kazuya and Kazuya hitting right back, the two of them familiar, joking, the "husband and wife" at it again, as their teammates affectionately (possibly) call them, shaking their heads.
Kazuya doesn't miss a beat when they do, tilting his head to the side. His eyes are big, fake wide, and Mei feels a rise of irritation in his throat just looking at it. "It's a shame Mei doesn't have a domestic bone in his body. I hope you'll all understand the difficulties I have with my wife."
Mei throws a towel at his face. It's very, very satisfying.
(This would be label number 3: "Sarcasm Over Emotions". Someone ought to pay Mei for his genius names.)
5. housewife mode.
For all the commentary Kazuya proceeds to make about Mei being the wife--even if Mei reminds the entire team that stupid joke is the other way around--it's Kazuya who defies gender roles entirely and acts completely and utterly domestic. (Not that they had any actual roles in the first place.)
This is by far the most baffling thing that's happened over the past few months. Mei's known Kazuya since they were twelve. He knows most of his habits and hobbies. He knows he likes to cook. He, never, in their ten years of friendship, has ever cooked for Mei.
And yet, here he is. He's carrying not one, not two, not three, but four small containers of tupperware when Mei opens the door to him this week. They stack up to just about his nose, and Kazuya juggles them to one arm to give him a one handed wave, his grin cheeky as he strides right in past Mei, who is gaping at him just a little.
"Bad day?" he quips, eventually, staring at the space where Kazuya was occupying for just a second to make sure he didn't just imagine that, "Kazuya, what the hell."
"Says you." Kazuya replies, calm as ever as he sets his stack down. He does have a point. They'd suffered a nasty loss to the Giants, and there were rumors swirling around that Mei had reached his peak. Mei's not saying he's been moody--he's a mature, responsible adult who just needs to reflect on his performance--but also, he's currently wrapped in a blanket and none of the apartment lights are on.
He scoffs, kicking the door shut with his bare foot. It makes a satisfying noise behind him, and Mei shuffles into the room, dropping himself dramatically into one of the kitchen island stools. "Why are you here."
"I can't be worried?" No, Mei thinks, you're physically incapable of human emotion. Kazuya waves a hand as he pops the top off of a big container of fresh rice. "I was elected to make sure you weren't dead."
He says it deadpan, and Mei's mouth draws into a pout, imagining the team playing rock paper scissors to see how their ace was doing. They should all be clamoring to make him feel better--not that he deserves it right now, but still.
He opens his mouth to say something back, but Kazuya stops him, almost immediately putting a spoon in his mouth. Making an "Mmpht--" noise, Mei does his best to scowl at him, but the fact is that his food is fucking delicious, and Mei won't argue that. He eats an entire serving and then some, and banters with Kazuya over the effectiveness of a slider in clutch situations over bowls of chicken and rice.
The only reason Mei knows he stays the night is because he falls asleep with his head on his lap on the couch a few hours later, and he likes to think Kazuya, maybe, didn't have the heart to move him.
(He felt the fingers sifting through his hair right up until he dozed off, and didn't say anything. Never said anything. Never has said anything, not for a crush that's been long-standing for at least five of the ten years of their friendship. It's phase four: the Maybe I Should Say Something.)
4. always knowing how to say just the wrong thing.
They get into a screaming argument over pitch count two days later, Mei snarling in his face, Kazuya as cool as ice. The coach separates them and sends them both home from practice, and Mei fumes for hours, kicking pillows across his apartment.
Maybe if you keep playing like this, someone'll hit a walk off homer off of you. Too bad your talent's not as big as your ego.
Mei can't stand him. Him and his pompous, obnoxious, weakness-hitting face.
It echoes in his head until he sleeps, alone and angry, and ignoring the ready made meals Kazuya prepared for him in the fridge.
(Phase Five: The I Want To Punch You, and Definitely Not With My Mouth.)
3. the way he kisses like it means something.
Once everyone's (not) said their apologies, the show must go on. The coaches are so used to Mei and Kazuya being, well, Mei and Kazuya, that the head coach's response to their argument is to put them in the bullpen until they're back to normal.
It works. It always does: Mei throws the ball as hard as he can and Kazuya flings it back, and feelings that could never be said out loud find their way through a few ounces of white leather and red stitching. Within an hour, they're bickering like normal, Mei finding the easy thread of their relationship and giving it a tug back into the right place.
Mei has always said he pitches well when he's angry: Kazuya will call him a liar every time. Either way, he pitches only the second no-hitter of his career in their game the next day. The entire stadium rises to their feet as Mei throws his final pitch, his changeup that his been his weapon since he was 14.
Kazuya opens his arms across the plate. It says give me everything you've got, and as Mei's fingers find the grip, he takes the sweet delight in knowing that even though the batter across from them knows what he's going to throw, there's not a chance he's going to hit it.
The stadium erupts when the umpire calls, but Mei doesn't hear any of it. His whole world narrows down to the brilliant light that fills up his chest, the I did it that screams across his face, and to Kazuya across from him, who rips off his mask and throws it to the ground, who joins the rest of the team in rushing Mei, but is the first one to hit into him bodily, his arms solid and strong when he grabs Mei around the waist and picks him up so his feet are off the ground, and Mei lifts his arm in the air and points to the sky, a number one as he collapses into a pile of his teammates.
When they go home together, Mei's hot off of victory and Kazuya's the same. He's holding the tapes in his duffel bag, having dodged paparazzi and interviewers alike to get home, but Mei will watch his victorious performance later, laser focused on the back in front of him, on Kazuya who whirls around on him in the front entryway and faces him, his eyes lit up like he just caught a pitch no one said he could.
It sends a bolt down Mei's spine, and he grins at him, hungry, delighted, and is the first one to pin him into the entryway wall to claim his mouth in a kiss--though Kazuya gives right back, his hands twining up in Mei's hair and pulling him in like he could get more, more, more.
The victory high doesn't even wear off when they're lying side by side in Mei's bed again, clothes missing, chests heaving, and Mei lifts his fist to put it up in the air.
Kazuya knocks his against his, says, "Romantic," and Mei laughs so hard he thinks he might cry.
(Phase Six: It Could've Been Perfect Right Here, but No)
7. his ability to pretend to ignore me, when i know he can’t
Things aren’t weird after that, which is in reality what makes this whole thing weird. Mei’s expecting--something. There’s an anxious little trill in his chest that comes up with a variety of different, horrible possibilities for this new little wrinkle in their years long relationship, but Mei ignores it, and as far as he can tell, so does Kazuya.
When he gets to the bullpen, Kazuya greets him with a nod, makes a shitty comment about his pitch count, drops into a crouch, and gets right to work. It’s almost anticlimactic: but for now, Mei rolls with it. After all, this is a two way street, and Mei can think of several things he’d rather do than confess to Kazuya (“tell Sawamura Eijun he’s a better pitcher than me”, “spend a week in Umemiya Seiichi’s company, even if he’s not playing baseball”, “play something boring like catcher”, for example), so he rolls with the idea of nothing changing.
And for a while, it’s fine.
It keeps happening. Kazuya keeps inserting himself into his life, texts him stupid things when they’re not at practice, appears to cook him dinner and hit the top of his hand with a wooden spoon when he’s trying to sample the food. That’s the kind of thing they’ve always had, but now there are new dimensions. Now, occasionally Mei will pin him into the oven and kiss him senseless, might eat him out for half an hour until he’s flushed red and sweaty and pounding his fist against the bed and cussing Mei out (Mei’s favorite; Kazuya rarely swears, and to get a series of them is like Christmas morning.) Sometimes, Kazuya will throw Mei over his shoulder like he’s made of paper and carry him off to bed, fit between his legs like he’s meant to be there.
And nothing changes.
It’s driving Mei crazy.
But, over time, things start to shift, and not in a good way. It’s not obvious, but to Mei, it feels like a chasm being built between them: Kazuya stops asking him to go over scorebooks with him, stops appearing at his apartment until its dwindled to nothing at all. He hasn’t sent a text message outside of practice in a week, and it’s about then that Mei hits his breaking point, when Kazuya still has the nerve to crouch across from him in the bullpen like everything is fine.
If he throws a little harder than usual, he’ll just blame it on being wound up.
Maybe he needs to get laid.
(Phase Seven: Fuck, I Think I Fell In Love With Him.)
FILL: Team Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, A3, R (2/2)
It all comes to a head when they lose in a major tournament. Mei’s already pissed enough about losing, and makes a general storm about it on the bus on the way home, sitting in his seat and jamming his headphones in his ears. Everyone’s defeated, quiet, and Mei watches with barely hidden rage as Kazuya walks right past him and drops into the empty two seats behind him.
Hell no, he thinks, and stands up.
Narumiya Mei has never cared much about making a scene. He stands up, grabs his jacket, and moves a seat back, dropping into the seat next to Kazuya with a prounounced huff, who looks at him as one might glare at a speck of dirt on their shoes.
“Mei, move.” Kazuya says, his tone even, tilting his head up. The light reflects off of his glasses.
“No.” he says back, nasty and stubborn, and puts his foot up into the back of the now empty seat in front of them as if to create a physical barrier on top of the invisible one. “You don’t get to pretend I don’t exist.”
Kazuya looks at him like he’s nuts, now, but Mei can see all the little gears whirring in his head. If he looks hard enough, he can see the realization that he’s been caught in his brown eyes, can see him putting together an escape plan, which comes out as, “We just played an entire game together. It’s impossible to pretend you don’t exist, don’t be an idiot.”
“Is it?” Mei snipes back, dropping his foot with a decided thunk: the bus rattles to life and starts to move, right in time for Mei to sit up properly and turn his shoulders towards Kazuya so he can actually address him. He at least has the decency to hiss under his breath. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kazuya replies testily, immediately--he almost bristles. Good. Mei likes it when he gets mad.
“You are what’s wrong with me.” Mei growls, smacking his hand on the armrest between them. “Make up your fucking mind, before you put me in an insane asylum. Is it because we lose? Do you think you’re making me lose focus?”
Kazuya blinks--Mei actually might have thrown him for a loop. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You know what!” and he maybe sounds a little more desperate than he meant to, but goddammit, Mei’s pissed, and the fuel from their shitty loss--from a stupid, shitty umpire, as everyone on the team had agreed--is just making it worse. “When was the last time you showed up at my house?”
Kazuya stares at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” Mei almost shouts, and then abruptly brings his voice back down, lest he make anyone stare. It’s a low, heated whisper, and he reaches out to jab his finger in Kazuya’s chest. “You are the absolute worst.”
“You’re the one doing this right now.”
“Stop it!” He snaps, throws his arms in the air--Mei can’t help himself. It all finally drops, and he puts his hand through his own hair, giving it a frustrated, annoyed ruffle, “See, that’s--exactly what you do, you always have to have something to say, could you take like--five seconds and get your head out of your ass for a minute and think about everything we’ve been doing for the past six months?!”
To his credit, Kazuya does not have something to say. He just looks at Mei for a moment, before he abruptly turns away and puts his jaw against his fist, propping his elbow up on the armrest. Mei briefly considers connecting his fist with Kazuya’s jaw, but he speaks up before he can, finally. “I’m not an idiot, Mei.”
“Really? Because you do a great impression of one.” Mei grumbles, and Kazuya rolls his eyes.
“Now who has something to say?” Pot, kettle. He does have a point, though, and Mei shuts his mouth, some of his fire cooled down as he watches him. It’s the fact that Kazuya has a little bit of a flush on his cheek that’s caught his attention, and even incensed, a little part of him does a backflip on sight. Kazuya’s unaware of that, at least, and he continues to look at the back of the seat in front of him with great focus. “It’s--complicated.”
Mei stares at him. For a good, solid minute, he just stares, mouth working open and closed, brow furrowed, before he just--lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Wow, you--you really suck at this.”
Kazuya turns back to look at him, abruptly, seeming shocked and embarrassed and--caught, Mei totally caught him. All of the anger flushes right out of his system, and Mei can’t help it. He laughs, a bright, “Kazuya, you’re terrible at this!” coming out of his mouth before he can stop it.
Kazuya narrows his eyes at him and turns away, and Mei’s giggling himself into a frenzy in the seat beside him, at Kazuya’s red cheeks, at the way he was refusing to make eye contact. Everything makes perfect sense--Kazuya, his closest friend, his literal years long crush is still the same person who took at least five years to call Mei “Mei” to anyone outside of the two of them, who Mei has heard use the word “friend” maybe twice in his life (and never to him, only to Kuramochi, which is rude!)
“You suck at this.” he giggles, again, but when Kazuya goes to say something, Mei grabs his left hand with his right, intertwines their fingers, and doesn’t let go.
(Phase Eight: I Have to Do Everything Because I’m Right, Obviously.)
Re: FILL: Team Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, A3, R (2/2)
I really love how you made it Miyuki who (not so) subtly tries to move the relationship into new ground but just.. how his communication skills aren't the most refined things so he tries to use his actions instead and hopes it gets through. But then Mei is so different from that, just direct and it works so well for them in the end. ;u;
All the little things domestic things you put in to show their comfortability and just their care were wonderful, from the little touches and to their fights. (Like they are a couple that would no doubt be arguing so often, have so many walls, and I!! love!! I love Miyuki hitting Mei's weak points, that he gets under his skin so easily.) I appreciate you going that direction to show their closeness. You did a wonderful job focusing on their actions rather than their words to convey that and it's so fitting, particularly for Miyuki. And with that little bit of embarrassing playfulness after their kiss (Mei lifting his fist after?? omg) just ahh so cute! I love how they don't work yet they also just.. do.
But yea, tldr this was such a fantastic little fic and I really enjoyed it! Wonderful job!