99Disclaimer: I own nothing of RWBY.
Carrot
By: Imyoshi
Nora Valkyrie stalked her prey through the corridors of Beacon Academy.
Left, right, two turns and whoosh, she pounced and glomped her Fearless Leader from behind. Dumb-dumb staggered from the sudden shift of weight. Not a problem for her. Her legs wrapped around his waist with arms hugging his neck from behind, squeezing tight like an affectionate sloth. His twisting and turning added to the fun, and she openly grinned between the bouts of dizziness.
"Nora!"
She giggled against his neck. Jaune-Jaune always knew who slothed on his back, like a mind reader. "Happy Piggyback Day!"
Jaune Arc almost rolled his eyes and sighed all at once. She could tell from the way he gripped the nearby wall for support, breathing in that heart-racing way that was a mixture of panic and joy. None of her added weight affected his posture, but she felt his shoulders shift from rigid to relax in a heartbeat. Then he moved away from the wall and shot a glance over his shoulder, trying—and failing spectacularly hard—at hiding a smile. Dork.
"Piggyback Day?"
"It's important to celebrate all the holidays, even the smallest ones, that way none of them feel underappreciated. Now march! Move your butt!"
He shook his head and followed through with the eye-rolling, but never ordered Nora to detangle herself or showed hints of annoyance. What she failed to mention was celebrating the made up ones counted, too. Funny thing about insanity, more exposure led to less resistance. Nora Valkyrie, aka the self-proclaimed Queen of the Castle, conqueror of sloths and Pancake connoisseur, didn't live by the edge of her seat, she was spontaneousness incarnated. Every few days was a holiday for her. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so forth! All belonged to her. He learned this the hard way during their first week as a team, discovering that Prank the Professor Day was not, in fact, a holiday supported by the Kingdom of Vale for the students and facility, nor did Doctor Oobleck have a sense of humor after replacing his coffee with decaf. The only reason they got caught was because she wrote their names on his mug in permanent marker a few days after.
Don't you see? I had to! It was Confess Your Crimes Day!
Things spiraled out of control after that. Dynamics shifted. Nora invented new anniversaries on a whim, celebrating them to their fullest, and somehow, someway he always got roped into them. Some were better than others. Hug a Tree Day was his favorite thus far, ending faster than it took to say it, while Cut a Lock of Yang's Hair Day left him emotionally scarred with a permanent state of fear that had him looking over his shoulder every time Yang entered the vicinity. She never found out, and the scrapbook Nora kept the lock would forever remain locked underneath her bed until they graduated. Not like Nora cared for the consequences.
She lived in the here and now.
Sometimes he put his foot down and told her no. Okay. He tried telling her no. Fine! He never said no. How could he? Seeing her so happy made him happy, in a sappy and exhausting way. Not to mention, she kept things from being boring. Scrolls' amusement only lasted so long, much shorter than their abysmal battery life.
In all honesty, it was his fault for indulging her for so long.
Now the social norm included fulfilling his role as holiday enthusiast, but missing the enthusiast part. Maybe if he had some help diverting her attention, oh, he hadn't the foggiest clue, perhaps some team members to shoulder the responsibility? Things wouldn't be so unforgiving. Alas, where would he find some partakes in this joyous day of piggyback riding?
Jaune Arc forcefully kicked open the door open to his team's room and zeroed in on the frozen Ren and Pyrrha.
Speak of the devils.
Nora threw her hands up. "Guys! It's Piggyback Day! Grab a pair of shoulders and ride until the sun sets."
Ren blinked nonchalantly to the display. He saw the distress his leader was going through and wisely shared a sideways glance with Pyrrha. A bristle of wind passed from the open window, and in a display of sheer backstabbery, he peeked down at his wrist and feigned a raised brow.
"Would you look at the time." Ren tapped his finger on his imaginary watch. "We got that thing, right, Pyrrha?"
"At that place? Most certainly." Pyrrha smiled, but it was shallower than a puddle. "Apologies, Nora. Perhaps another time."
Traitors! Both of them. Mutiny at its finest.
Nora pouted, resting her chin on his noggin. "Boring. Both of you. Jaune's having fun, see?"
By fun, she meant against his will. He showed that quite well with the sweat trickling down his cheek, but Nora's kicking legs turned the mood to her favor. One part Arc, one part Valkyrie, all fun. F-U-N. Fun! Ren and Pyrrha sadly couldn't share in the fun having a thing to go to at that place. Did he forget to mention they were traitors? Both of them?
Pyrrha hid that smile behind her palm, emerald shaded eyes glowing in mischief. Ren's lips threatened to curve at the edges, almost shattering his nonchalant deposition. Pink irises refrained from arcing upward. Nora added to the merriment by brushing her cheek against his, squishing skin against skin.
Ren booped Nora on the nose. "Another time, Nora."
Pyrrha twirled her finger in a delightful circle before copying Ren, poking her partner's nose with a pearly white grin. Unlike him, her eyes bent upward, and she quickly paced out the room before guilt took hold of her. Somewhere in the background, along the corridors of the hallway and in the absence of no one, laughter escaped the invincible champion. Ren resisted Nora's pout and gently patted his hand on his leader's shoulder before following Pyrrha's path. A door closed with a click, and Nora's still squishing face switched places to rest her chin on her holiday buddy's noggin.
"Oh, well. More fun for us."
While stuck on this never-ending story, he glanced up. "Nora? How long am I going to be doing this?"
He felt her shift downward. "Until my legs get tired."
Ah.
Of course, until her hanging legs tuckered out from a long day of not walking. How foolish of him to ask. Piggyback Day couldn't end until one of them tuckered out. He straightened his back and headed toward the door. Might as well play along.
"Where to milady?"
He felt her grin. "A walk around Beacon. I want to wave to my loyal subjects. Onward, trusty steed."
Subjects meant students. Waving meant waving. Somehow that made perfect sense to the Arc and he trudged forward. Nora kicked the door open this time, cracking the hinges in place. He wasn't looking forward to explaining that to Professor Goodwitch. Not again. He drew the short straw last time, so by fairness, one of the other three had to venture into that lion's den. Steeds were much too busy moving onward to stay behind and poke the lions with a stick.
Down the stairs and out the hallways, they brisked with Nora waving to her fellow-subjects. Most of the student body didn't bat an eyelash to Jaune giving Nora a piggyback ride around Beacon, far too used to her antics. Few openly pitied him. Fewer grew envious. One recorded his walk outside on their Scroll.
Jaune Arc ignored them all.
More pressing matters weighed upon his mind. Nora's body cuddled up to his made for an uncomfortable distraction. Keeping her legs up required him to grip her smooth thighs, and her insistence to cling firmly pressed two soft mounds against his back. Braless, he might add. Worst of all, she smelled like Red Sap. Nothing overpowering. Good actually. A pleasant aroma that suited her more than syrup. Too bad that only heightened his senses and made him more aware of her slender body pressed to his.
For her hyper activeness and sheer audacity to throw common sense out the window, Nora disregarded personal space. Contact was a must for her, touching more often than not. She wasn't a hugger. Huggers hugged, Nora glomped. Booped. Pressed an infinite array of buttons until the machine malfunctioned. A walking, talking energizer bunny, but even he couldn't ignore her natural feminine side.
Out of the frying pan and into the oven, before he hadn't noticed the closeness, good ol' adrenaline blocked out sensation for survival, but now that his blood had an opportunity to cool off, it only reheated between each seditious step. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. First his teammates and now his hormones? Rebels in every corner. He tried not to think about it, not even when she shifted upward to wave to the commoners, pressing her chest against the back of his head. Jaune thanked his lucky stars that Nora couldn't see him blushing up a storm. Exertion! That was the lie he readied just in case any noisy pecker asked. A twitching eyebrow was a side effect, next to thinned lips and a stoned-like face.
Nora kept on waving.
Picking up the pace, he maneuvered around the corner and headed straight for the courtyard. She offered him a small reprise by kneeling on his palms, but that lasted all but three seconds before she rested her chest on his head. Now she leaned on him, basking in the infinitely warm sun with two perfect lumps sitting on his sun-kissed hair. Who knew piggyback riding could be so corrupt? Devious. Dare he say blood rushing? He really tried not to think about it, hoping the sooner he marched through the garden section, the quicker he could crash and burn. Nora refused his internal request by making him go another round around the academy. Then another, and another.
A real strain on his back.
Not to say she was heavy. No, no, no. Far from it. Light as a feather, actually. A little of both. An oxymoron. Hn? The best way to describe Nora Valkyrie was an extra-thick short stack of pancakes. Juicy and sweet, but messy and fun twenty-four seven. Plumpy. Marshmallow soft. A tempting smell with a dazzling personality and attitude and—really trying not to think about that with her body caressing his from behind. Weakening legs staggered from carrying extra weight in what felt like an hour, and it hardly helped that modesty and her were strangers on a good day. He kept his sights focused on the worn path ahead of him, stepping between cracks to occupy his thoughts, but Nora squeezed his neck and relished in the fun.
Baking under the sun must have simmered some of her enthusiasm because she gradually ceased her hailing and relaxed on his back. Silence followed the setting sun. A few minutes turned into ten, then twenty, and he was walking his fourth time around the courtyard when she booped him on the nose in a casual gesture.
"So? What's new, Fearless Leader?"
"New?"
She threw her legs out. "That's what I said, don't wear it out."
New? New. Huh? He racked his brain for an answer. Whatever he expected to find was missing. "Nothing, I guess. We're a team. Not much happens that the others don't find out about."
"Nothing?" Nora repeated. "No strange new diseases? No secret techniques. Nadda? Just the same old, same old?"
"Zip." Jaune smiled before he paused. "Oh! My parents did send me a postcard from our family's backyard, wondering when I'm coming home. That's new, I think. They've been sending one for each week now. It's honestly getting a bit suffocating, but hey, they worry. Family stuff."
He didn't notice the tone shift of the atmosphere until Nora slumped against his back. At most he considered her boundless energy finally hitting low, but that proved not to be the case when she frowned against his cheek, eyes glossy.
"... What's it like having a family?"
He instantly sobered up. Casualness turned rigid, and he offered a thoughtful hum. Of all things for Nora to ask him, and she touched on that subject? Tch! His fault for bringing up family stuff. Him and his big mouth. What was he supposed to say to orphan without hurting their feelings? What could anyone say in this situation? Well, not like he had much choice now. Indulging her would be better than pretending she never asked.
"Think of our team, but more of them and you've known them forever." Jaune reflected. "They get under your skin. There's very little privacy and everyone hordes food. Blackmail is common between siblings. Gotta do what you can do to survive in the food chain."
"But?"
"But they always have your back and tease you to no end. A family cares about your safety more than you care about it. They're annoying like that. Occasionally there's cheek pinching, but that fades over time."
"And parents?"
He chuckled. "Worse. Imagine having a monkey on your back all the time. Everyday. Until you move out. And even then they still call you and send you postcards. It's a nightmare."
"You make it sound fun."
Considering all the negative aspects he told her, he wouldn't trade any of the fond memories away for anything in the world. Good times. Bad times. Some had been fun. Others annoying and downright awful, but mudpies and stubborn sisters aside, he looked fondly back on all of them.
"It has its quirks."
Nora offered him a dull smile against his cheek, shoving hair into his skin and mouth, but she fooled no one. His failed attempts to distract her with cynical examples only worsened her mood. Her arms slackened around his neck while she detangled herself from his back. Piggyback Day had officially ended on a low note, or so she believed.
Gone went those lingering thoughts of indecent touching, and whatever idle movements cursed him vanished. He pulled her legs in tight, spread his feet apart, and before Nora said a word, took off in a race against the setting sun. Two more runs around the courtyard? How about ten! Jaune Arc ran them all, dipping and swirling around the gardens with Nora seizing his neck to lean back and enjoy the raging wind against her hair.
Today would be the best Piggyback Day of all time, even if it killed him.
…
Someone put Jaune Arc out of his misery.
He literally crashed against the door to pry it open, wobbling inside with feet crying out for the sweet relief of death. So much sweat spilled down his face, dripping in that ew-ew way that made his sisters keep him back with a ten-foot pole. Jaune couldn't even see past his wet bangs, having used Nora's misguided directions to reach their dorm room. Not one of his brighter ideas. Something should have told him that going left four times meant following the path of a square or crudely drawn circle. Then again, he just finished running around the courtyard like a grade-A lunatic, so details, details. Pushing passed technicalities, he tottered and wiggled.
Nora graciously leapt away from his back to fix her unkempt hair and wrinkled outfit with a wide smile.
Jaune dropped down onto his bed like a sack of potatoes. Plump! Down he went, face first into his pillow with his muscles sore. Ouch! Double ouch! During some point, it went from uncomfortable to strenuous with all bouts of perversion flying out the window once his legs began shaking and her demeanor changing. Embarrassment turned into effervescent. Then that turned into exhaustion. Everything ached. Not for Nora. She hummed cheerfully at the side, fixing any wrinkles off her skirt with a twirl in her step. Her gigawatt smile lit the room up, and he visibly winced at her telltale thinking face. Already she planned another holiday, chewing on her hair in a rare occurrence of seriousness.
Ha. Ha-ha. Arg! It hurt to laugh rhetorically.
When it came to planning and sorting, Nora Valkyrie showed three faces. First came her thinker's face, eyes narrowed and arms crossed in holy defiance. Tapping of the foot followed her eureka moment, and stars and glitter shone in her eyes for those oh-so-special holidays. Of the three, stars and glitter haunted his nightmares, because sometimes she showed only stars or glitters, but both usually ended up with bruises and fractures. For example, right now, right this instant, turning the world upside down on its back, she currently vibrated in anticipation, drooling almost.
Not good. Not at all. Nope, nope. Time to skedaddle.
If he crawled to the door right now, rolled down the stairs and survived the impact, avoiding a concussion along the trip down, he might be able to make it to the Bullhead before tomorrow morning. A solid plan that she dismantled in the blink of an eye. Rose Rose ran at the speed of sound. Nora Valkyrie outran lightning. Gone in a flash, she blurred and grabbed a mountain's worth of sheets. Nora then wrapped him squarely on the bed with his layers dug deeply into the sockets. Her way of saying thank you for an extra-extra special day. Easy escape for anyone with strength to spare, but his muscles screamed in protest and decided to be jelly. Noodly. Just like his name. Woe was Jaune.
"There you go. Nice and tight! Like a bug in a rug."
He failed to see the analogy. A few words were missing. Snug. Where was snug? He struggled a second time, a futile gesture. Nora overlooked his wiggling, much too busy searching the closet with a pile of junk tossed out by her haphazard hands. What he searched for he hadn't the foggiest clue, but when she grabbed some helmet with horns attached to the ends, he feared for tomorrow.
Then their partners walked in with Pyrrha holding her report for next week's history class, and Ren carrying a heap of snacks for the evening. Nora cheered, threw her hands up, and pulled Ren to the side to devour treats and talk aimlessly about her day, mouth stuffed. He listened attentively, every so often cleaning her cheeks clear of crumbs. Pyrrha, on the other hand, sat on the edge of her partner's bed, poking him on the side with her rolled-up report.
"How was Piggyback Day?"
"Legs. Noodley."
Pyrrha puckered her lips. Noodley legs? Clear signs of exhaustion? An intact spine? He escaped easy. Smiling, she glanced over to animated Nora, who told Ren all about her day in minute-to-minute detail. Judging by the exuberant grin and mad shaking, Nora enjoyed every second. That could also be a reaction to the intense sugar rush from swallowing three cans of soda, but hard to tell with her. Not the worst way to end a Thursday, or Nora's self-proclaimed Norasday. Why she held that particular part of the week in her heart not even Ren knew.
"At least Nora had fun."
Jaune turned his head on his pillow. "When doesn't she?"
Instead of walking in circles, Pyrrha gently ruffled up his hair. "There, there. Tomorrow's going to be a better day."
"And how do you know that?"
Now her eyes adopted that stars and glitter look. "Because we've got training all night long. And I've planned out a special regime to help build up stamina and focus on core development. You'll see. It'll be enjoyable. Be prepared to work off a sweat."
Suddenly he missed Piggyback Day.
...
Nora tiptoed across the room, careful not to wake up Jaune.
In her arms, she held an antique helmet and fake beard she purchased from the one-hundred lien store. She needed not to worry about Ren or Pyrrha. Sleepyheads wore earplugs to block out the sound of someone's snoring. Which was odd since neither of them snored, huh? Mysterious mysteries for another time. Blah, blah, she stretched her legs before pouncing on her leader's bed with her feet planted right on his stomach in a battle cry befitting a Valkyrie. The way he harshly gasped, coughing as she dropped and straddled his chest with her palms pressed flatly against his sputtering chest, forced her to give a pearly smile. Brilliant. Full of mischief. Nora cooed as Jaune caught his breath for the twentieth time this week.
When he regained full consciousness, instantly zeroing in on her bestraddled position, he inhaled casually, but firmly. Nora patiently waited. Three, two—too long!
"Happy Leif Erickson Day! Hinga Dinga Durgen!"
Not even her thunderous voice shook him alive or turned his scowl upside down. Nope. Hmmm? Probably had to do with his sore muscles. She felt them through his broad chest, finding knots for his knots and knots for those. Pyrrha pushed him through the grinder and back a few days ago. Something, something training, she barely recalled the whole ordeal, catching up on a history paper at the time. Bor-ing. All she remembered was Jaune's head plopping down on his bed in a coma-like state every night. Very zenny.
"Leif Erick—what?"
Her smile stretched, promising shenanigans. "Leif Erickson Day. So get up. Up, up. Here's your costume." Nora shoved a thorny helmet into his hands with a fake beard in the shade of her orange mimicking hair. "Prepare for a day of greatness. They'll tell stories to their grandchildren's grandchildren about our journey. Think a barrel of monkeys, but twice as fun!"
Since his experience with a barrel of monkeys was more nonexistent than his legit transcripts, he had no idea how to measure fun between the two. Grandchildren's grandchildren? Whatever. Best to inspect his costume for the day. Huh? Armored hats and fake beards? Okay. Reminded him of Halloween. How bad could Leif Erickson Day be?
Hours later, Pyrrha gasped when her partner walked into the room that afternoon with parts of his skin seared in first-degree burns, mostly his right arm. Aura worked to repair his forelimb, combating burn marks and rejuvenating burnt skin, but the ashy soot meshing with his cheeks, nose, and hair left plenty to be concerned. To her credit, she didn't jump up and rush to aid her friend, hiding a knowing smile in the least subtle of ways.
"Dare I ask?"
"It's Leif Erickson Day."
"Ah. Of course."
Silly of her to forget. Good thing Jaune reminded her as he snuffed out a tailing bit of ember at the end of his hair. He tossed whatever remained of his helmet and threw away the fiery beard. The sound of skin burning filtered in the room, but if he refused to wince, she pretended not to notice and quietly fetched the first-aid kit while he removed what remained of his armor. Some of the edges were melted, a story she couldn't wait to sink her teeth into.
When she returned to find him sitting on her bed, torso exposed with the majority of the damage clinging to his right side, Pyrrha could only imagine what Leif Erickson Day entailed. That remaining half of his armor would never see combat again. A blessing in disguise if she ever saw one. Now he could acquire substantial protection and not something that covered only his torso and back. Poorly, she added.
Thank Oum for Leif Erickson Day.
She sat next to him and dabbed open the kit, reaching for lengthy bandages, burn ointment, and an ice-pack. Pyrrha started with the packet, pressing it gently to his arm while he internally winced from the cool to hot contact. Then she instructed him to hold it there while she applied the burn ointment to his cheeks, rubbing it soothingly across his charred skin. He relaxed somewhat, and every so often she brushed ash away from his face but showed to be somewhat alright. Then she daubed some aloe vera on his nose with a cotton swab and his face contorted.
"Ow! Not so rough."
"Oops, sorry." Pyrrha checked his arm and creased her brow. "The good news is your Aura should have to fix up by tomorrow morning. Maybe even tonight if you don't strain yourself."
"... And the bad news?"
She frowned. "We're out of pain medication."
Which wouldn't be much of an issue if Vale wasn't forty minutes away by Bullhead, but Beacon Academy only carried the good stuff, and first-degree burns weren't on their radar. Not with Aura a contender to pain blockers. Plus, the air traffic on a Saturday afternoon just made things look awful in comparison. Survival of the fittest and yadda-yadda, she sympathized with her friend and swapped more ointment around his nose. He flinched a few more times before exhaling.
"I don't know how much more I can take of this. Nora's driving me up the wall with her made-up holidays. Now I see why Ren makes her an overabundance of food. It's not to feed her, but to slow her down."
Understatement of this still very young century, but she sighed, peppered a few more slabs of cream and smoothly wrapped his arm, slapping him on the back to get her point across when his vision unfocused. A head turned. A bandage placed on his nose, and she shooed away any lingering bits of volcanic ash away from his mane. Pyrrha then did a reach around and wrapped her final layers of wrappings around his torso and shoulder, simpering upon noticing his edging frown and covered face.
"Jaune, you have a heart that's three times the size of a regular person's heart. Do you know what that means?"
"That I should go to the doctor?"
Her smile stretched. "No, well, yes, but no. It means you are unable to say no."
Eyes narrowed. "Where are you going with this?"
"Nora's one to wear her emotions on her sleeves. She's an unstoppable force, and your inability to say no puts you right in her path. She'll drag you along for every adventure just like she does with Ren, but he's managed to divert her attention towards you. If I'm being entirely honest, I think he deserves the break. Dealing with Nora can't be all it's cracked up to be."
More narrowing. "What about you? Where are you during my time of need? Some help would be nice, ol partner of mine."
She lazily waved her hand in the air. "Oh, you know me. I have places to go and things to do. You know that."
Curse those places—curse those things!
Matriarch Arc raised no jester. He saw past her fabricated fib like a teetering house of cards. She knew it. He knew it. Teasing smiles and palm-hidden laughter betrayed him at every turn, yet Pyrrha lacked guilt throughout the body numbing ordeal, checking his bandages for tightness with harmless smirks. While she remained quiet to his pleas, acting guiltless to her filthy crime of mutiny, he called her out.
"You're throwing me under the Bullhead."
Silly Jaune. "Just say no. N-O. No. See? Easy. You could even try the Ruby Rose way and say nope. I heard that's quite effective."
"You're enjoying this."
More of a statement than a question, but she played along. "Admittedly, it's quite fun watching Nora create these new holidays. She's got a very active imagination. And if injuries of this nature persist, then I'll intervene, but right now I see no reason to stop her."
He grumpily crossed his arms as she shooed away specks of ash from his skin. "Who knew my partner was so sadistic."
"At least I'm not the masochist."
"Ha-ha, pick on the injured." Jaune thoughtfully poked her shoulder. "Maybe all your opponents already had broken bones before you fought them in all those supposed tournaments."
She paused and playfully rolled her eyes before resuming her treatment. "You mean the Mistral Regional Tournament? The televised tournament that thousands of people watch? That I won four times in a row? That tournament?"
"Just because you couldn't see it, doesn't mean there wasn't any foul play. I'm on to you, Miss Nikos. You can't fool me. Detective Jaune is on the case."
"You're mistaking cheating with skill, detective. It's not the first time you've done this." Pyrrha jabbed directly at his fake transcripts. "Try not to let it bother you. No one has to know. It'll be our little secret."
He softly shoved her. She shoulder bumped him back and regretted it once he cringed. Part of her desperately craved to know what Lief Erickson's Day entailed, but when he puffed out pyroclastic ash from his lungs, she figured it was better not to pry and rubbed the remainder of the aloe across his fingers. Thinking about the damage pushed her thoughts to an equally burned Nora, and she absently checked to see if they had enough aloe for a second patient.
"So? Where is Nora? I can't possibly imagine the state she's in."
He scoffed. "Ren's already treating her. She's not as banged up as me, but that's because she was further away from the explosion."
"Explosion?"
"You don't wanna know."
"I sort of do."
"Just know this, there was a lot of Dust. Lots. Too much to count."
She cocked her head to the side, unable to fathom the day her partner had. Observing the transparent clues on his person, she figured long and tedious. Possibly outrageous and near the spectrum why, Oum, why. Maybe some advice from the ill-legitimate Mistral Regional Tournament four-time champion might help her deluded partner. She had a few tricks up her sleeve for a rainy day. One that fancied her thoughts was the reverse. Turnabout was fair play. Nora made up holidays on the spot and dragged him along for the wild ride. By that backward logic, he should be able to do the same. Only he never thought of it, much too busy keeping himself from spontaneously combusting.
"You know." Pyrrha offered, checking his back. "Maybe you should make up a few holidays of your own. Give her a taste of her own medicine."
He scoffed with a witty retort on his rolling expert tongue but swallowed in clarity. Recognition, sweet relief spilled over him like a torrent of oasis water in a harsh, bitter desert. His body loosened with muscles retracting from overstress. A smile, his first real one since entering the room, sprouted and things quickly escalated from there. Up, up, up! He jumped onto his feet and hit his palm with a fist.
"Hey? That's not just crazy enough to work, it's genius."
Pyrrha allowed the genius comment to distract her for a brief moment, but she snapped on his growing smirk. Revenge sounded fine and dandy when it came to pranks, outlets were healthy, but while the gears might be turning, she feared for the wrench that was engraved Nora Valkyrie. She appreciated the simple-mindedness of the plan, but not the poor execution.
"Careful now, Nora's not so easy to annoy. You might end up defeating yourself in the process."
He ignored her warning. "I'm sure I can think of something."
Pyrrha Nikos didn't know whether or not to concern herself over her partner's need to rub his hands together like some megalomaniac villain, only adding to his fiery, burnt appearance, but a bit too late to stop the gears now. Cogs turned. Jaune Arc, by definition of Team JNPR's totem pole, acted as the team's fearless strategist. Whatever plans he came up with made all hers pale in comparison. Having seven siblings helped with the creative juices. Knowing he entered Beacon without any prior knowledge to Aura or swordsmanship skills only showed how far he was willing to push. To think some people called him weak, a coward, and hardheaded. While one of those were true, the others failed to stick.
Maybe she should have stopped him when he grabbed a chair, sat down, and hunched over their desk to think of holidays to celebrate with Nora between fits of borderlined clownish laughter, somehow ignoring the blistering pain of a first-degree burn. She should have done a lot of things. Like not promote that unhealthy cereal or use her opponents' weapons against them? Some still had scars. Instead, she hovered over his shoulder and watched him work, fascinated by the inner workings of his mind while brushing off remnant flakes of ash from shoulders. Perhaps Jaune hit closer to home with that sadistic comment than she initially thought?
That might explain the blood-rushing joy she experienced whenever clobbering someone with their own weapon.
...
Revenge was a dish best served cold, or in Jaune Arc's case, at five-thirty in the morning with a potted cactus in his arms.
He named it Jim.
Mud military-style paint covered his face, and splotches of grass poked out of his sun-blessed mane. He moved, he scampered, he swift. Scruffle. Scruffle. Jaune ever so leisurely approached the corner of Nora's mattress, poking his head up from the corner with his vegetative hair acting as camouflage in the mildew twilight. Ocean blue eyes twinkled in the darkness, whirlpools of misery and joy. His target snoozed away, unaware of the dangers lurking in the carpet padded room. Then, like a wind-up Jaune-in-the-Box, he sprang forward and acted as an alarm clock, yelling at the top of his lungs to a drooling and snoring Nora.
"Happy Grass Day!"
A monarchy fell.
Nora scampered out of her bed as her sheets tangled her body in a heaping pile of limbs, screaming bloody murder. Her extra-strength bedding worked against her every inch on the way down toward the floor. Thud! Chin first, her feet dangled in the air with her upper body flat on the carpet. A twitched passed her body, followed by two. Ren and Pyrrha remained sleeping. Seconds later, once she recovered enough brainpower from massive information overload, her head shot out of the mountain of cotton, shaking back and forth in an episode of befuddlement.
"Huh! Who! What! Where! Why! How!"
Good. Jaune caught her just waking up. He leaned over her frantic form, grinning from ear to ear. "Good morning, Nora! Happy Grass Day!"
Nora blinked at the sight of her Fearless Leader, and she meant blinked. Like really, really hard. Was that a cactus in his arms? War paint. Jaune-Jaune had war paint on his cheeks. She ignored the grass sticking out his unkempt hair. By far the least strange thing to happen to her in the span of a few seconds. Turquoise zeroed in on his exuberantly bright smile, and she stretched her jaw.
Nora rubbed the Sandman's sand away from her eyes, yawning loudly with her hair frizzled-frazzled. "Jaune! What are you doing?! It's seven in the morning, and it's Saturday. Sat-ur-day. The sun's not even awake yet!"
He booped her on the nose.
"Exactly! What are you doing still sleeping? Grass Day's not going to celebrate itself!"
"Grass Day?" Nora parroted. "What's that?"
For some odd reason, a shiver raced down her spine from the way Jaune-Jaune's smile stretched.
The random cactus in his arms only added to the fear.
Four hours later, she struggled to remain awake. Grass Day focused on the oh-so joyous activity of watching grass grow for hours on end. Outside on their elbows. Away from other people! So far the highlight came from a passing ant crawling from blade to blade. She had named him Turnip, but he soon vanished into the green jungle and abandoned her for greener pastures. Another hour passed—make it two—and she threatened to rip her own hair out.
Boring.
Mind-numbingly dreadful, Nora felt her mind slipping from the boredom. Not moving for hours on end was slowly suffocating the life out of her. Grow, useless grass, grow! Hurry up! An inch. A centimeter. A millimeter. Anything! Just hurry up and stretch already! End her suffering now.
Nora only agreed to Grass Day out of her obligation to celebrate every holiday—made up or not—under the blazing sun, but this was pushing it too far. Who enjoyed this stuff? Maniacs, that was who. Just look at her leader, resting his face on his elbows in an intense staring match with a blade of grass. She scoffed, and she thought Pyrrha was boring after catching her reading for fun. Blake, she understood. Smut—ahem—literature added spice to a tiresome day, but no amount of juicy details or under the desk writing could replace the thrill of doing things, and how she missed moving.
Groan!
For the love of Monty Oum, grow!
Across the courtyard, resting her feet in the brisk fountain water, Pyrrha pitied her fellow female. Watching the grass grow? Brutal. More so considering who she was, a firecracker with the inability to stay still for mere minutes at a time. She had to give credit where credit was due. Her partner—her leader—knew how to hit and how to hit hard. Deceitfully devious of him to use the cactus to hide his face. Maybe Nora would have noticed her leader sleeping, but not a chance between that prickly pine. So she kept on staring, eyes bloodshot with him waking up from his nap a quarter past one. He absently checked the time on his Scroll and nodded in approval, hiding a yawn.
"Hey, hey!" Jaune teased. "The grass grew an inch, looks like we can pack it up and leave."
"Finally!" Nora never sprung to her legs so fast. "Oum! I'm out of here! Kitchen, here I come!"
He gripped her wrist. "Hold up, Nora. Not so fast. Before you head off, make sure you remember to sleep early for tomorrow's fun holiday. I want you well rested for tomorrow."
Her energy sapped. Another holiday so soon?
Tomorrow?
"What's tomorrow?"
"Paint Dry Day."
She visibly hiccuped. Paint Dry Day? Paint Dry Day! What kind of cruel hell was this? What happened to variety, to fun? She was this close to strangling his windpipe. None of this was enjoyable, quite the opposite. Almost as if he was attempting to break—oh. Oh! Sneaky. So? That was Jaune-Jaune's game? Break her until she snapped. Drive her nuts and into a straightjacket. Ha! Not on his boring life. Paint Dry Day? Child's play!
Nora wickedly grinned.
Ren never challenged her open wackiness, always following the path of least resistance. Made for everlasting adventures, but staleness could be a stick in the mud. Jaune, however, grew up with seven sisters. Seven of them. He thrived on the randomness of it all. Up, down, and all around, her Fearless Leader grabbed the Boarbatusk by the horns and mushed. Not her style. Ursa Major was more up her alley, but she was game.
"Can't wait."
...
Things hit a nine-point five on the weirdness scale.
Ren and Pyrrha watched from the sidelines as the holidays slowly turned into that of competition. Gone went the random, fun games.
On-upping the other became the prime definition of a holiday, fascinating to watch, more interesting to hear the festivities they created on a whim. Some were impressive. Others were downright cruel. All in all, their greatest weapon came from their overactive imagination. Nora possessed absurdity to the tenth degree, but Jaune thought outside of the fourth dimension. Who would cry foul out first? Ren put his lien on Jaune for the sake of shattering normalcy. Pyrrha regretfully betted on Nora. Insanity had no limit. Persistence, while an admirable quality in the fight against the Grimm, faltered beneath Nora's queen complex madness. Delusion drowned the strongest of wills.
To prove their point, Ren and Pyrrha remained dutifully quiet as Jaune ate Nora's pancakes and in an obnoxiously boisterous manner. Trade Food Day never sounded so absurdly nefarious until someone watched Team JNPR's leader mock his teammate in the openness of the Mess Hall. Clever? Definitely. Suicidal? Well, this was the guy who entered Beacon Academy with nothing but the clothes on his back, an ancestral sword, and blind optimism. Again, proving their point, he chewed loudly just for Nora.
"Mmmm! So good. It's like a flavor party in my mouth. Ren made them special today. What's the secret ingredient, Ren? Your leader demands to know."
Ren played along. Lien was on the line. "Today, I used Red Sap as a syrup."
Jaune gulped down the rich tenderness. "Well, it shows. I could eat this all day. Maybe I will. How does that sound, Nora?"
Nora's mouth literally watered at the thought of Red Sap covered pancakes, but she reeled herself in and scowled down at the waffles covering her plate. Grabbing fluffy goodness wouldn't help her one bit, not with Jaune stealing her food before she even sat down. Temptation to stab him with her fork grew by the second, one little twist and turn and jab, right in the gut. She only needed a second before anyone could stop her.
Nora alternatively stabbed her waffles with enough force to crack the plate underneath. "I'll remember this when it's my turn."
Remember she did, exacting her revenge during Doctor Oobleck's class the following day. Taking the Blame Day was in full effect when she threw a paper ball right for the good Doctor's head, shushing the class in eerie silence as it bounced off his hair and plopped right down into his coffee mug. Not even Oobleck, for all his infinite wisdom and exceptional relapse time, knew how to react to the bizarre and traitorous action committed by one of his dear students. His glasses fogged considerably with the air turning stale. One small turn of his body, posture bending, and eyebrows knitting shushed the entire room with a fear befitting an alpha Grimm.
"Who was that? Speak now, or your punishment will be more severe."
"It was Jaune!" Nora promptly answered. She stood up and pointed to the doey-eyed Arc, hands slapping wood. "He did it. Right, Fearless Leader?"
"What? Uh?" Jaune glanced down and found a haphazardly written script for him to read with the title Taking the Blame Day written in bold lettering. He sighed before clearing his throat. "Right. It was me, Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR. Stealer of food, and—ummm? I can't read that. Is that a V or U—anyways, I did it. Sorry, I don't know what came over me. It'll never happen again."
"That's a month of Saturday detention."
He expected nothing less and sunk into his seat while Nora giggled silently in the background. Oobleck hummed, turned his back, and resumed with his lecture. All was normal in the history drowned classroom again, but curious emerald eyes watched in fascination as Nora tore off a second paper from her rarely used notebook. Pyrrha considered aiding her partner when Nora prepared a second paper ball, this time twice the size, but lien never betrayed anyone. Better to focus on something else, like Doctor Oobleck's thermos. When she squinted hard enough, she saw splotches of Nora's writing on the side of his mug. Jaune Arc and Nora Valkyrie were here! Circled in a messily drawn heart of pink.
Plop!
Pyrrha visibly hid her smirk when her partner groaned and slammed his head on his desk. Easy lien.
...
Switch Outfit Day turned out better for Jaune than it did Nora.
Walking Beacon's hallways in his clothing somehow backfired. While his overstuffed clothing hid her tinier figure better than her skirt and jacket combo did for him, he rocked the combat skirt and stretched her favorite undershirt. Ha-ha. Just like the ballroom dance. Mr. Tall, Blond and Scraggly acted all confident in pink. People laughed, but fewer than before, and some openly gawked. Others ignored the randomness. Was it weird they both had short hair? Somehow she felt like a fish out of water in his baggy hoodie and jeans, a Grimm crashing a human party. Arg! His useless pants kept falling! No wonder he wore two belts and not the one, and why were the sleeves so long? Not that she cared, actually preferring their length to flap them in excitement, but Nora persisted and bamboozled everyone in all her five-foot-one awesomeness.
Yup-yup! She flipped his hoodie over her eyes, acting sinister with her smirk gleaming through the opened gap. Not a victory, but not a defeat. Stalemate. So with a draw at hand, she savored the fun in wearing her leader's clothing, never realizing how unfathomably comfy his Pumpkin Pete hoodie felt around her tender body. Softness between every thread treated her like a princess, and the lingering aroma of summer tickled her nose. Smelled just like Jaune, but everywhere and all at once. Not a horrible scent. A good one. A really good one. Nora inhaled a whiff of the odor from the flaps of her sleeves, shivering in delight, eyes closed and smile pressed up against the stitches.
If there was anything positive to gain out of this, her leader smelled nice.
A delightful smell, a real treat on her nostrils. Not to mention, he had that tallness and furnace-like quality going for him. Quality? Tall? Huh? What-the-what? Did she just think—nu-uh. Nora shot him a non-sneaky glance from underneath his hoodie. Inhale! Denying it would be fruitless, especially to an emotion wearing sleeve girl like her. Now that she got a decent look at Jaune, her tiny shirt worked wonders for him. Stretching fabric accentuated his torso, not allowing any room for breathing. Girth around the shoulders exposed lean, mean fighting machines usually hidden underneath the hoodie, impressive, like the rest of his body. Yup with a popping P, he rocked that outfit better than she did for his. Not fair? Possibly. Maybe?
No.
A bit of muscle on the side never hurt anyone, eye candy for her. The look but don't touch rule never applied to her per se, but the urge to reach out and smother those arms, maybe pinch them or run a ringer through the crevice of beefy muscle, almost overpowered her sense of reason, but she resisted the temptation and slapped herself silly with the flapping sleeves. Must be the overbearing hoodie and overpowering aroma. Too hot all around. Yeah. Heat under the collar, that was the culprit to her reddening cheeks. Steam from her ears was just a troublesome side-effect from sniffing the overly stretched sleeves.
Exhale!
"Not your best idea, Nora."
Gone went the troubling emotions, and in its place stood an orange-headed nymph wearing clothes three sizes too big for her. She stood on her toes, poking him extra-firm on the chest with a sleeve covered finger. Her hoodie glare, only matched by her flaming blush and hidden eyes, added to the flare as she jabbed between each syllable spoken. Poke. Poke. Poke.
"And what's that supposed to mean? Huh? Huh!"
Jaune Arc, dressed as an over-sized Nora Valkyrie, shrugged. "Your holiday, Nora, it's boring. I don't know. I expected better from you."
Gasp! She took two steps back, clutching her aching heart. B-B-Boring?! Her? Nora Valkyrie, dressed in Jaune Arc's clothing? Boring? Unforgivable. Her desire for fun adventures, and to turn the world upside down, occasionally tilt it on its axis every so often, demanded her and boring to never be used in the same sentence. Somehow her combat skirt-wearing leader missed that memo. Somehow he missed many memos.
Challenging him with unorthodox holidays and playing his games pushed for over the top fun, but she aimed to win.
An entire semester of Saturday detention failed to crush his spirits. Humiliation bounced off him like rubber. So he expected better? Her A-game? The cream of the crop, the bee's knees, the—blah, blah, blah! Fine! No more screwing around, tomorrow's holiday would dethrone his cocky attitude.
Nora promised this as her twin-belted pants dropped between her ankles.
...
Slam!
The bathroom door burst open with Nora rushing inside, before banging the door shut with her back pressed against the wood. She undressed and jumped into the shower in record time, sighing contently underneath the barrage of water droplets splashing her heated skin. Brrrr! Refreshing! Cold water never felt so riveting. So yummy on her aching nerves. She opened her mouth to swish the water high-spiritedly, yet her mood soured, and she ended up spitting the water out in annoyance.
Somehow she burned up underneath the misty shower, and she stood there, under the icy torrent, biting her lip, arms crossed, and pout adorable. Today had been a wash, pun very much intended. Nothing was working. Nope. No signs of Jaune-Jaune hesitating. Not a flinch, or a twitch, or a muscle spasm of any kind. Drat! Double drat! She kicked away a bar of soap and drenched her hair in orange-scented shampoo. Her fury cooled underneath the soap duds and water. Digging fingers helped, too.
Nora admitted her wackadoodle leader had guts. The sturdy and squishy kind. Squish, squish. She thought for sure he would have caved during Stand in One-Hundred Degree Weather While Wearing Five Layers of Clothing Day. Heck! After her Aura reversed the second heatstroke, her legs gave out, but she remained dutifully behind as he sweated his sweaty socks off in the blazing, unforgiving sun. Not even his cactus stood rigid in the record-breaking heat. No matter how much she pushed, prodded, poked, or provoked, he never took the bait.
Humph!
Shaking underneath the water, Nora slapped her puffed cheeks together and blew out air. The only time she recalled him floundering was during Piggyback Day. Dumb-Dumb stunk at physical contact. That much was undeniable to a Valkyrie who observed the master of silence for years. Awkward stillness never bothered her, not like her leader. His heart had raced faster than Ruby's mad running Semblance. Partially her fault for resting her funbags on his back and then head, but bras itched. Not like he cared—wait! He had cared. Affirmative! Physical contact wobbled his resolve. More could only break him entirely and grant her free reign over the holidays.
Nora smirked with her soapy hair covering her eyes.
Push, prod, poke, and provoke didn't work, but perverse had yet to walk up to the pancake filled plate.
Plan in mind, she threw her head back and lathered, rinsed, and repeated, catching that familiar scent from the first shampoo bottle she managed to grab. Mmmm. Smelled just like him, down to the musky scent exposed in his clothing, and she recalled the way she poked a hard chest. That shirt and her jab left little to the imagination. Touching and rubbing other parts of his body sounded fun.
She couldn't wait to sink her claws into him tomorrow.
...
The next Saturday afternoon, Jaune Arc walked into his team's room, after serving his mandatory detention, and found no sign of the apocalypse outside his window or around the bedroom.
Today Nora had control over the holiday shtick. A two-for-one. Whatever horrible or inhumane day she had planned, he stood firm and ready. Cactus unhesitant, he dressed in his weekend clothes and strapped his blade on for a precaution. Chase Grimm Day still haunted his dreams since he had foolishly discarded Crocea Mors in the room that day. Beowolves never ran away from a lone noodle. Ursai told boogieman equivalent tales about Nora.
Little did he know, she had hidden behind the opening of the door, only now realizing his folly once she flung the door closed with a sharp kick with her foot. He turned. She grinned. Her innocent smile stretched, far too devious to be harmless. A hand reflexively gripped the handle of Crocea Mors, but she shattered grand delusion without thinking it over.
"Nora Hug Day!"
"Nora Hug Day?" Jaune blinked. "Nora Hug Day?"
She never missed a beat. "Yup! I get unlimited hugs all day. On demand. Whenever I want. Where I want. Anytime I want. Got it?"
Not at all to what he was thinking, but his fingers relaxed on Crocea Mors' grip, along with his shoulders. "Uh, sure. Okay. Yeah, Nora Hug Day. So when do you want a—?"
"Now!"
"Oh?! Alright."
He gingerly opened his arms, waiting for the inevitable, but Nora remained standing and shook her head roguishly. An impish simper simmered, and she hobbled on the soles of her boots impatiently with her hands bunched together behind her arched back. Took him the better part of a minute to figure out her game. So she demanded he came to her and embraced her from the front? No finger lifting from her. Calling it surprising would be a flat out lie, and Jaune moved four steps before wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a delicate—pushy arms shoved him away.
"No, no, no, silly, a real hug. Don't give me the grandma discount. Make it count!"
Part of his pride took a hit. Grandma Arc cherished his hugs, pinched cheeks told the tale. Humph! Make it count? Challenge accepted. Long arms rushed out and pulled her in tight, throwing away delicacy for support and firmness. She blinked from the sudden display of bravery, glancing up from his chest with her lower jaw hidden underneath the bunny's logo and worn threading. Both his arms had wrapped around her head, forcing her body to lean into his. Slowly, ever so gently, cautious that might burst his brain from sensory overload, she slivered her hands around his torso, eyes curving upward from the way his heart sped up. Seconds turned into a minute with him refusing to make eye-contact as she had yet to let go.
Nora melted into the rare embrace.
Not part of her plan. Things already worked to her advantage and then some with the thumping against her nose, but she couldn't recall the last time someone hugged her back. People yelped every time she embraced them, turning into a flurry of emotions, but no one ever returned the favor, not even Ren, except now. Jaune-Jaune's hug? It felt nice. Safe. Toe-curling good. How long? How long since someone held her so close with such comfort? Memories failed her. Nora had forgotten how warm and fuzzy hugs were, and she refused to give it up now. If not for his clumsiness to touch, she would have remained glued to his chest for an hour. Maybe two. Instead, she broke apart and slapped his chest before shooing away and holding back laughter from the way his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
Nora planned to milk this day until the noodle ran dry.
Best holiday ever!
"You better keep those arms warm, because I'm going for a record-breaker."
He said nothing, hugging her a third time when she smushed her face against his torso. This time she rolled her body into his, not shying away from physical contact, derailing his train of thought from the way she showed affection. He never checked Nora into the same category of cute, until now. When he glanced away, finding the infinite specks of dust in the ceiling more interesting than the way snuggled for seconds longer than average, she smirked and extended the embrace until it became much too hot to bear. Good thing she had the whole day to cool down and eat her fill. Fingers dug into his shoulder blades at the thought.
The moment she released him, he practically bolted out the door and toward a random direction. She stayed close behind, jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck only seconds after their last embrace. He just knew that today was going to be a long day when she wrapped her legs around his waist and giggled into his neck, making him stumble.
Several hours later, between the hallways of Beacon with his guard up, he traveled between the flurry of unknown faces with his head lowered and cheeks refusing to cool down. Jaune Arc never knew hugs came in all shapes and sizes. Everyone comprehended about the standard chest-to-chest hug, but the reach around embrace or glomp surprised him when they happened, especially when Nora took a running start and crashed him into the floor. Oh? Here she came for the second one of those, and he had no other choice but to throw his arms open and—glomp!
Thud!
Down he went, crashing against the floor with her cheek squished firmly against his. Rub. Rub. Rub. Nora showed no mercy, sighing while her body laid squarely on top of his with her arms wrapped slothfully around his neck and legs pinning his waist down. He remained flat on the floor, trying not to think about the passion she shared or how she straddled him. Why she created Nora Hug Day eluded him so, but he both despised and enjoyed every bit of it. Most people thought guys hated affection, but that couldn't be further from the truth. They didn't hate it, they craved it. Once she hopped up and skedaddled away, he rubbed his neck and cursed himself for already missing the magical touch of her soft skin. Just like Piggyback Day, but one-hundred times worse.
Any attempts of not thinking about taking her into his arms and squeezing her tight failed miserably.
Even the mightiest of creatures turned into drool machines when scratched behind the ears or held dotingly, and he confirmed to be no exception. Something about holding Nora close made it impossible not to smile. Side hugs, where she wrapped her arms around his body from the corner, not the front or back, stretched that ever-growing simper. Disloyal blood rushed to his cheeks from the softness of her body, but nothing compared to the embraces that left his heart thumping loudly in his ears.
So far he tomatoed at the infamous arm squeeze. Walking around Beacon with Nora hugging the life out of his arm, hadn't been the primary issue, her lack of modesty caused the problems. Clutching his arm sounded tame from the start, then he had noticed by clasping his arm, her frame melded into his skin. Bounciness rubbed against muscle. Softness, added with unforgiving warmth, forced him to look away while she squeezed and caressed his arm with tantalizing light fingers. When she leaned her head on his shoulders, that was when he figured out how much trouble he could expect. Hugs were childish gestures meant to convey trust and security, but Nora twisted them for evil purposes.
He accepted her game and fought with fire of his own.
Not really. No. Jaune's clinches worked against him too. When she sprinted forward, dived, and encircled her limbs around his upper physique, grinding her generous chest against his face, hugging back did nothing but push him deeper into jiggling madness and irresistibly thick thighs. Fighting fire with fire? Useless.
Once those greedy arms entangled him, he faltered. Glomps weakened his resolve. Adorable embraces left him a red-faced mess. Any part where she touched his body, running ravenous fingers across his hair, neck, torso or arm, further shoved him deeper into the Velvet's hole. Jaune didn't know how much he could take before admitting defeat. Hearts could only take so much punishment before bursting open, and his already leaked.
He had to discover a way to hug her without her hugging back.
An enigma, maybe a paradox, but one such cuddle existed. Timing was everything when it came to performing this one, but his time was cut short when he rounded a corner and found her sprinting toward him. Now or nothing. Nora then rocketed forward, arms greedily out, like a torpedo ready to bombard her defenseless leader.
Tch! Not this time.
Crash!
Feet dug into the ground to halt her momentum, resisting turbulence as her tiny body collided upon his. His legs buckled for the briefest of seconds, sliding against the floor before he gained his footing. Time stood still in the hallway once he came to a screeching halt. She blinked upon her newest position.
Fuzzy. Warm. Mmmmm.
Only a few of the mind-numbing sensations she felt whenever trapped between his arms, but this one took the Red Sapped cake. Not from the brazen tactic or his ability to withstand her tackle, but from the absurdity of her position. The awkward angle made returning the favor a mooted one, and Nora froze due to his extraordinarily rare, bold smirk. Bulky arms squeezed her lithe waist, holding her figure up from off the floor. Her feet dangled with palms pressed flatly against his chest, much too stunned for words. Unless Nora felt like hunching forward and clumsily squeezing his head, she had no choice but to limp in his hold. Not such a horrible way to misuse a hug—eep!
Her chest nearly exploded into a supernova risque light when he buried his nose into her stomach, shoving so much tender loving affectionate into her smooth, slender frame that it left her paralyzed for more. Now her heart stammered. Now her face tomatoed. Now everything rushed like the blood in her ears to the gentle curl of her toes. Her lips actually wobbled. He noticed none of it, grinning in victory while keeping her up and never ever letting go.
"Caught you."
Nora's cheeks remained honeysuckle red, but her dumbfounded posture relaxed. Flat fingers dug into his hoodie with her feet kicking up, and she rested her bum on his arms, sharing in the joyous celebration. Somehow he figured out her plan. Good, good. Exactly what Nora expected from her Fearless Leader, but the unique nuzzle had been an unexpected and exhilarating surprise.
She laughed and booped him on the nose once he separated from her stomach. Jaune Arc caught her for now, but tomorrow was a brand new holiday. Lightning was unpredictable. Fast, blazing, hot. Anything could happen. Hugs were just the beginning.
Nora Valkyrie would make sure of that.
"Boop."
Author Notes: Imagine Cherry, but in Nora's Arc form, and masquerade in the subtlety of holidays. Also, expect a serious Nora's Arc main story called Orange to be added to the mix of Blue, White and Silver.
