YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 7

[a1c0bb]

For this round, we want to see prompts that are based on settings or locations! For your prompts, please provide a location or setting. It can be as specific or as abstract as you want, and can be in any medium you prefer!

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

FILL: Team Anime/Manga

[hopelessgemini]

“This sucks,” Cinder says delightedly, “you really know how to make me hate myself, babe.”

Winter makes a noise too dignified to be a laugh into her cup, tactfully avoiding meeting Cinder’s eyes over the table. “I can’t count the number of meals I’ve had at this place. My father loved meeting contractors here.”

“Oh, that explains so much about him.” She picks up another piece of steak with the end of her fork and studies it in the half-light, mouth working into something that could be a smile. “G-d, even you can’t fuck food up this badly.”

“Tell me about it,” Winter says idly. She picks her own fork up and takes the steak from Cinder delicately, looking amused. “So, do I win?”

“Well, I don’t know how I’d beat this,” Cinder hums. “So yes, you win.”

Winter settles back into her seat, tilting her head up. “Excellent. I’ll mark this down.”

“Catering for the wedding?”

She kicks her shin under the table. “I’ll hire some place halfway decent for that. You haven’t tried any good Atlas food.”

“I refuse to believe Atlas and good food belong in the same sentence. You were posted in Mistral; you should have had all the time in the world to find somewhere better than this,” Cinder laughs, flashing a grin at a waiter as they pass by. Winter, being Winter, just sort of stares in a way Cinder’s sure she thinks is friendly.

“Well, maybe. I was sort of preoccupied with being in the military at the time.” She picks another piece of steak off Cinder’s plate and adds, “But I’d like to try, if you’d be so willing.”

“Maybe when we’re not engaged in a ‘worst date ever’ competition,” Cinder says. She finds Winter’s leg under the table and hooks her ankle around her shin, pulling her close. It’s the kind of thing she would have called gross a few years ago, the kind of thing she revels in now. “You know, I am so endlessly glad that I lost.”

“And why’s that?”

“It means I’m incapable of making a date bad.”