BONUS ROUND 1: THROWBACK PROMPTS

[a1c0bb]

In this round, we'll be using prompts from last year's bonus rounds! You can either come up with a prompt based on the previous themes, fill a prompt from previous bonus rounds, or fill a prompt that's been posted this year!

Here is the tag with all the previous bonus rounds!

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!

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]

If you're filling from a 2023/2024 prompt, please link to their prompt in your post!

To participate, reply to this post!

Comments

FILL: Team RWBY

[hopelessgemini]

fandom: RWBY

ship: winter/cinder

-

On the nineteenth Tuesday in a row, Cinder is forced to admit they’re stuck.

The worst part is, of course, that they’re stuck together. Except Winter thinks that if she’s alone she would have gone insane, and Cinder is Cinder, so. It’s definitely a blessing in disguise. She says as much over the nineteenth mediocre takeaway in a row, mouth flicking up at the corners, and Cinder watches her with a little half-smile that says she agrees but she won’t admit it.

“So,” she says, putting her fork down, “how do we get out, then?”

Cinder brings her cup to her mouth. Winter watches the movement and the way her lips move to cover the rim of the glass, and then realises she’s staring. “You know, you’d think that after nineteen days and twenty years you’d stop eating pizza with a fork.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating pizza with a fork! I just don’t want to get my hands greasy. That’s logical.”

“Uh huh. Well, anyway, we have ascertained that we can’t die, so that’s out.”

“We can die, it just resets after,” Winter says. She picks up her fork again and spears a remaining piece of crust, ignoring Cinder rolling her eyes. “But we’re the only people stuck, so the cause is probably directly related to us. Both of us.”

Cinder snorts. “So what’s wrong with you, then?”

Winter gestures to herself, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I would make a spreadsheet or something, but it would just reset tomorrow. So that somewhat defeats the point. But there has to be a piece we’re missing.”

“Maybe you just need to stop eating pizza with a fork,” Cinder says. Her mouth closes around the rim of the glass again, leaving a smudge of lipstick.

(Winter has gotten very used to determinedly not staring over the years, and she’s not about to break her streak now.)

-

“Maybe it’s about change,” Cinder suggests.

Winter glares at her, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ve slept in the same bed before.”

“Yeah, when we were kids. This is different. Like, sexually charged.”

“It is not —”

“All I’m saying is, we’re both private people, right?” Cinder says, raising her hands defensively. “Maybe it’s about change. About opening ourselves up to other people. Maybe the universe thinks we’re both sad fucks who need to get a life.”

“But I already tell you everything,” says Winter, who has been telling Cinder everything since they were both five. Except for one crucial detail, but she hates cliche and refuses to believe that’s what this is about, so.

Cinder pouts. “So it can’t hurt to try, right?”

“If you wanted to hug me, you could have just asked.”

“Woah, who said anything about hugging?” She raises both hands again, jerking her head towards Winter’s mattress. “Look, it’s your room, and you hate having people in your room. And I hate being touched, so. Maybe there’ll be cuddling, but like. Minimal cuddling.”

-

‘Minimal cuddling’, it turns out, involves waking up to Cinder sleepily peeling herself out of Winter’s arms. At least they didn’t wake up in different rooms, Winter thinks, dragging herself up into awareness — and then Cinder presses a small kiss to the corner of her jaw, and freezes, realising what she’s done —