YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 5

[a1c0bb]

for this bonus round, the theme is competition! pretty open-ended, prompts that are about some sort of competition! this round will end on july 31st!

Fills can be in any format, and you can fill your teammates prompts, but you cannot fill your own prompt.

You can post as many fills and as many prompts as you want! To participate, reply to this Dreamwidth post!

for your prompt post title, please use the following format:
PROMPT: TEAM [TEAM NAME]
for your fill post title, please use the following format:
FILL: TEAM [TEAM NAME]

 

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PROMPT : TEAM OCS - MOON

[sapphicam]

"You wanna bet on it ?" "Oh, you're on, sweetheart"

FILL: Team Anime/Manga

[hopelessgemini]

word count: 745

pairing: winter schnee/cinder fall

fandom: RWBY

// “Another red bill,” Winter says, looking over the top of her glasses at Cinder. It’s less intimidating and more cute, but she doesn’t point that out. “Do you know why?”

Cinder shrugs, lifting her coffee mug to her mouth. She waits for Winter’s eyebrows to vanish into her hairline before making a show of swallowing and saying, “Dunno. I’m a very good girl. I turn all my lights off before I go to bed.”

Winter looks to the left, to where the sun is rising over the top of the skyline of apartment blocks opposite their window. She looks very pretty like this, Cinder thinks, all gold and silver edges. “Well, this had to come from somewhere,” she says eventually — good mood effectively ruined — “and I don’t feel like trying to figure it out.”

Her hands twitch impatiently around the paper. Sensing a rant coming on, Cinder puts down her coffee mug and removes the bill from Winter’s grip. She doesn’t bother reading it, just begins folding as Winter’s eyes find something else to latch onto and nods along when she starts rambling. This is how she is supportive: sitting and listening, feeling out Winter’s edges. It’s a perfectly effective method, thank you very much.

“I don’t even know what they think they’re doing,” she’s saying, “you know, the, the —”

“The fuckass government.”

“ — yes, exactly. Energy bills and water bills and all that shit. I don’t know how they expect us to be able to — I mean, I’m twenty-five and since my father cut me off I’ve only ever lived in apartments, and that’s something else, what kind of country lets people like Jacques fucking Schnee hoard their wealth while Mantle — what are you doing?”

Cinder looks down at the paper airplane in her hands, then back at Winter. “What?”

She scrunches up her nose, which Cinder graciously avoids calling adorable. “Are you folding our bills into paper airplanes?”

Cinder sets the completed one down and starts rifling through the papers on their kitchen table for more bills. “Yes,” she says pleasantly, “why, my love?”

“I don’t think you can do that,” Winter points out, but the corners of her mouth are tugging up, seemingly against her will. Coming from her, it’s practically hysterical laughter. Cinder also graciously avoids calling this cute.

“I do whatever I want, love. I’ll make two and we’ll throw them out of the window.”

“I don’t think you can —”

“I do whatever I want,” Cinder repeats, reaching over the table to press a finger against her lips. Winter goes cross-eyed trying to look at it, then glares at her, and it’s really not that intimidating at all. “Bet you I can go further.”

Winter snatches her finger away from her mouth, glowering. “You’re shit at throwing things.”

“I’m great at throwing things. Watch me,” Cinder says, and starts folding a third bill just to prove a point.

“Besides, you’re already bringing me breakfast as repayment for the laundry incident, anyway.”

Cinder glances up from her hands, quirking an eyebrow. “What?”

Winter has never been particularly good at looking mischevious, but she manages it now. She settles back into her seat with her arms folded, eyeing Cinder up and down. “I’m assuming the stakes would be breakfast-related. And you’d probably lose, is what I’m saying.”

Cinder snorts. “Wow, that’s bold. I was going to say you’d have to let me whisk you away from work for a charming afternoon date, but if you don’t want that I can just aim low.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Winter picks up an airplane from the table and starts towards the window, halting only to watch Cinder send her third creation in loops around the kitchen and duck when it sails past her. “If we’re doing this —”

“You’d better have a great idea in mind, if you’re planning on winning,” Cinder grins.

“I have fantastic ideas all the time. I have never had a bad idea in my life.” She opens the kitchen window with one hand, curls Cinder into her side with the other when she approaches. Unfair, Cinder thinks, since Winter is a good four inches shorter than her, but it’s not like she doesn’t mind being held by butches who speak like they were born in 1820.

“You sure about that?” she says, and then, just to psyche her out, “You’re gonna lose anyway, so.”

“Want to bet?” Winter asks, all too smugly.

Cinder bumps their shoulders together, taking aim. “You’re on, sweetheart.”