Bleach Drabble (442-443)
This is me rediscovering how absolutely random I can be. o.o
442.
Title: Incredible Inedible
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character/s: Yumichika, Ikkaku, Renji, Matsumoto
Word Count: 575
Warning/s: Spoilers for the early part of the Arrankar arc.
Summary: The shinigami encounter a strange human world phenomenon- the mall food court.
Dedication: JaB- I thought a lot about the facial expressions you draw on Ikkaku and Renji when I was writing this. ^^
A/N: Pointlessness to see if I can still write. O.o Also, to poke fun at the fact that some variations of “Chinese food” (in the loosest sense of the word) should be considered toxic. At least, in my opinion. XD Because I am one of those types of people who is vaguely insulted (and disgusted) at the idea of Sweet-and-Sour anything.
“The hell is that?”
Yumichika looks thoughtful. “Orange chicken.”
Renji blinks. “Orange chicken?”
“Mmm,” Yumichika responds, still regarding the food he’d brought curiously. “I heard the name and I just had to see what an orange chicken would look like!”
“Looks like a great steamin’ pile o sh-…”
Ikkaku is cut off by a deft swipe to the back of his head by his prettier division mate. “People are going to be eating that thank you, Ikkaku.”
The bald shinigami growls and rubs at the back of his head. “Well I ain’t gonna…”
“Orange chicken,” Renji repeats, furrowing his brow and picking up a chopstick with which to poke at the gloppy mess of fowl flesh on the table between them. The chopstick makes a wet sucking noise when he pulls it away from the inch-thick sauce and he shudders. “Chicken ain’t supposed to be that color,” he declares after a moment, with infinite surety.
“No shit,” Ikkaku chimes in, helpfully. “Look like it’d kill a man, you ask me.”
The three of them stare at it thoughtfully for another moment.
“I’m sure it’s edible,” Yumichika states after a minute or two. “Go on, Ikkaku.”
“Like hell! You bought it, you eat it.”
Yumichika looks just as happy with that idea as Ikkaku had about the whole concept of orange chicken in the first place. “Well if I won’t, and you won’t and…” he pauses to lift an inquisitive eyebrow at Renji, who quickly shakes his head, “…and Renji won’t, then who will?”
“Ara, I’m sooooo tired!! This shopping thing is an even better workout than training with taichou!!!” a voice declares loudly, Matsumoto Rangiku sweeping into the mall’s food court a moment later with countless bags around either of her arms and a rather manically satisfied look on her face. “Oooh, food!!”
She sheds her bags, dropping them beside the table before flopping down into the last remaining chair with a heave of her considerable bosom. “What is it?”
“Try some,” Yumichika invites.
“Waaah, don’t mind if I do!!!”
And she does.
The three men watch the blonde vice-captain pack away the unsightly concoction without so much as a twitch on her pretty face.
“Oi, that mean it’s safe?” Ikkaku whispers to the other two, still sounding infinitely uncertain about the concept as a whole.
“Hmmm,” Yumichika responds, noncommittal as he watches piece by piece disappear at record speed while Rangiku chatters on about something indecipherable (Dulce and Gabanna? What the hell is that?).
“Um,” is all Renji has to say on the matter.
“Maybe Rangiku-san wasn’t the best subject to perform an initial test on,” Yumichika offers after a moment, wincing a bit as the tenth division shinigami leans back upon finishing, rubbing her stomach and belching impressively.
“Oh, excuse me. Hehe, guess I was hungrier than I thought!” she exclaims with a laugh and a hearty slap to Renji’s shoulder.
Ikkaku and Renji look at each other at that and find that they agree with Yumichika’s assessment- they should’ve started on someone normal.
“Mmmm, let’s go buy a takeout box for Hitsugaya-taichou then, shall we?” the pretty fifth-seat suggests with a practiced smile. “I’m sure it would be very rude to exclude him.”
Ikkaku clears his throat. “Er, good idea, Yumi. Here, lemme help ya with that.”
Renji stands up too. “Yeah! I’ll uh, I’ll help you both.”
Back at the table, Matsumoto burps again.
The men hurry towards the Panda Express.
END
443.
Title: Paralysis
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika, Yachiru
Word Count: 285
Warning/s: No spoilers I can imagine.
Summary: Shuuhei wants to know why.
Dedication: electrify and chibify for feeding my Shuumi fangirl heart in a time of great darkness. Also for kaeru_chan, for the encouragement. ^^
A/N: Ahaha the dialogue I’ve been writing has been infinitely weird lately. I don’t know why.
Shuuhei, covered in bright red paint in the shape of child-sized handprints, stands in the doorway and glares at Yumichika. “Why?” he asks, sounding winded. “Why do you give her candy? Why would you do something like that?”
Yumichika blinks at him, because the answer really ought to be obvious. “Because she likes it!”
“Oh,” Shuuhei says, because he doesn’t really know how else to respond to that unapologetic declaration. “Oh.”
Yumichika smiles. “Aren’t you two having fun drawing together?”
“I can’t feel my legs,” Shuuhei announces, and leans against the doorframe.
“You must be having fun then,” Yumi chirrups as he finishes putting the final touches on the snack tray he’s been preparing. “Fukutaichou’s favorite cookies.”
Hisagi’s blood runs cold. “Why?” he echoes, faintly. “Why do you do this to me?”
Yumi’s eyes sparkle mirth at that helpless inquiry and he steps forward; reaching up to touch Shuuhei’s cheek (the one without any paint on it) tenderly. “You’ll make a fabulous father one day,” he declares with the utmost certainty. “I love you very much.” Then he pecks Hisagi on the cheek with infinite gentleness and turns back to his tray, picking it up and sliding past his lover into the adjoining room.
“Yachiru, cookies!”
“Waaaah, yay!!!!! Come paint with me, Yumi-pon!”
In the doorway, Shuuhei raises a hand to touch the spot on his face that Yumichika kissed, unwittingly drawing a line of red paint across it as he does. He thinks about fatherhood and cookies and candies and the sugar-glazed madness that takes a child over after ingesting all those things.
He wants to say “Thank you, I love you too.”
But all that comes out is: “I can’t feel my legs.”
END
EDITS PLZ.
442.
Title: Incredible Inedible
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character/s: Yumichika, Ikkaku, Renji, Matsumoto
Word Count: 575
Warning/s: Spoilers for the early part of the Arrankar arc.
Summary: The shinigami encounter a strange human world phenomenon- the mall food court.
Dedication: JaB- I thought a lot about the facial expressions you draw on Ikkaku and Renji when I was writing this. ^^
A/N: Pointlessness to see if I can still write. O.o Also, to poke fun at the fact that some variations of “Chinese food” (in the loosest sense of the word) should be considered toxic. At least, in my opinion. XD Because I am one of those types of people who is vaguely insulted (and disgusted) at the idea of Sweet-and-Sour anything.
“The hell is that?”
Yumichika looks thoughtful. “Orange chicken.”
Renji blinks. “Orange chicken?”
“Mmm,” Yumichika responds, still regarding the food he’d brought curiously. “I heard the name and I just had to see what an orange chicken would look like!”
“Looks like a great steamin’ pile o sh-…”
Ikkaku is cut off by a deft swipe to the back of his head by his prettier division mate. “People are going to be eating that thank you, Ikkaku.”
The bald shinigami growls and rubs at the back of his head. “Well I ain’t gonna…”
“Orange chicken,” Renji repeats, furrowing his brow and picking up a chopstick with which to poke at the gloppy mess of fowl flesh on the table between them. The chopstick makes a wet sucking noise when he pulls it away from the inch-thick sauce and he shudders. “Chicken ain’t supposed to be that color,” he declares after a moment, with infinite surety.
“No shit,” Ikkaku chimes in, helpfully. “Look like it’d kill a man, you ask me.”
The three of them stare at it thoughtfully for another moment.
“I’m sure it’s edible,” Yumichika states after a minute or two. “Go on, Ikkaku.”
“Like hell! You bought it, you eat it.”
Yumichika looks just as happy with that idea as Ikkaku had about the whole concept of orange chicken in the first place. “Well if I won’t, and you won’t and…” he pauses to lift an inquisitive eyebrow at Renji, who quickly shakes his head, “…and Renji won’t, then who will?”
“Ara, I’m sooooo tired!! This shopping thing is an even better workout than training with taichou!!!” a voice declares loudly, Matsumoto Rangiku sweeping into the mall’s food court a moment later with countless bags around either of her arms and a rather manically satisfied look on her face. “Oooh, food!!”
She sheds her bags, dropping them beside the table before flopping down into the last remaining chair with a heave of her considerable bosom. “What is it?”
“Try some,” Yumichika invites.
“Waaah, don’t mind if I do!!!”
And she does.
The three men watch the blonde vice-captain pack away the unsightly concoction without so much as a twitch on her pretty face.
“Oi, that mean it’s safe?” Ikkaku whispers to the other two, still sounding infinitely uncertain about the concept as a whole.
“Hmmm,” Yumichika responds, noncommittal as he watches piece by piece disappear at record speed while Rangiku chatters on about something indecipherable (Dulce and Gabanna? What the hell is that?).
“Um,” is all Renji has to say on the matter.
“Maybe Rangiku-san wasn’t the best subject to perform an initial test on,” Yumichika offers after a moment, wincing a bit as the tenth division shinigami leans back upon finishing, rubbing her stomach and belching impressively.
“Oh, excuse me. Hehe, guess I was hungrier than I thought!” she exclaims with a laugh and a hearty slap to Renji’s shoulder.
Ikkaku and Renji look at each other at that and find that they agree with Yumichika’s assessment- they should’ve started on someone normal.
“Mmmm, let’s go buy a takeout box for Hitsugaya-taichou then, shall we?” the pretty fifth-seat suggests with a practiced smile. “I’m sure it would be very rude to exclude him.”
Ikkaku clears his throat. “Er, good idea, Yumi. Here, lemme help ya with that.”
Renji stands up too. “Yeah! I’ll uh, I’ll help you both.”
Back at the table, Matsumoto burps again.
The men hurry towards the Panda Express.
END
443.
Title: Paralysis
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: ShuuheixYumichika, Yachiru
Word Count: 285
Warning/s: No spoilers I can imagine.
Summary: Shuuhei wants to know why.
Dedication: electrify and chibify for feeding my Shuumi fangirl heart in a time of great darkness. Also for kaeru_chan, for the encouragement. ^^
A/N: Ahaha the dialogue I’ve been writing has been infinitely weird lately. I don’t know why.
Shuuhei, covered in bright red paint in the shape of child-sized handprints, stands in the doorway and glares at Yumichika. “Why?” he asks, sounding winded. “Why do you give her candy? Why would you do something like that?”
Yumichika blinks at him, because the answer really ought to be obvious. “Because she likes it!”
“Oh,” Shuuhei says, because he doesn’t really know how else to respond to that unapologetic declaration. “Oh.”
Yumichika smiles. “Aren’t you two having fun drawing together?”
“I can’t feel my legs,” Shuuhei announces, and leans against the doorframe.
“You must be having fun then,” Yumi chirrups as he finishes putting the final touches on the snack tray he’s been preparing. “Fukutaichou’s favorite cookies.”
Hisagi’s blood runs cold. “Why?” he echoes, faintly. “Why do you do this to me?”
Yumi’s eyes sparkle mirth at that helpless inquiry and he steps forward; reaching up to touch Shuuhei’s cheek (the one without any paint on it) tenderly. “You’ll make a fabulous father one day,” he declares with the utmost certainty. “I love you very much.” Then he pecks Hisagi on the cheek with infinite gentleness and turns back to his tray, picking it up and sliding past his lover into the adjoining room.
“Yachiru, cookies!”
“Waaaah, yay!!!!! Come paint with me, Yumi-pon!”
In the doorway, Shuuhei raises a hand to touch the spot on his face that Yumichika kissed, unwittingly drawing a line of red paint across it as he does. He thinks about fatherhood and cookies and candies and the sugar-glazed madness that takes a child over after ingesting all those things.
He wants to say “Thank you, I love you too.”
But all that comes out is: “I can’t feel my legs.”
END
EDITS PLZ.