Fanfic Post: LOL Con [Bleach]
THIS IS CRACK. It is also stupid and unexpectedly sorta long. It probably doesn’t make sense except for a select few who are under LOCK AND KEY. Only know that it’s in response to penguin_sensei’s challenge of Urahara/Lolita-hug-in-a-convention. And I only did it to secure me a fic by her on Aizen/game theory. XD
Title: LOL Con
Author: seoinage
Gift For: penguin_sensei
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Urahara, Ichigo, and unnamed victim
Spoilers: Sorta…but not really.
Disclaimer BLEACH © 2001 by TITE KUBO/SHUEISHA Inc. and assorted corporations who bought various rights to it.
~*~
The polite, apologetic inquiry of "Excuse me, but do you mind if I took your picture?" came at the same time as the gentle tug on his sleeve that stopped him from continuing on down the vinyl-floored hallway. Pausing to a click-clack stop of wooden geta on bare feet, the man tilted up the brim of his striped bucket-shaped hat to look over his shoulder. A politely tilted eyebrow that also spoke of his delight accompanied his response. "My picture...?"
A wicked-looking black object lifted for his inspection, but his gaze focus on something other than the camera cradled in her hands. Streams of others passed by in all directions and their background noise filled the space to living. Many sported t-shirts and jeans of varying cleanliness while a smaller percentage paraded to music of their own making, robed in outfits both skimpy (he approved), and elaborate (didn't it get hot? he wondered). He also kept running into regular folks dressed in shinigami uniforms (or at least as close to what they could supply), and some were even imitating him, but of course the real and original version took the number one spot in his mind. And every time they spotted him, it seemed inevitable that the sound of shutter lenses doing their jobs could be heard. He didn't mind, mostly. Sometimes he even posed with them, flashing a two fingered peace sign to add to the mood. And the times he did mind, wanting to instead try a taste of this or that, or to go catch such events entitled “How to Talk to Girls” (not that he needed a refresher since he did well enough on his own, thank you very much, but it’s always interesting to see if any girls showed up), his breezy grin and one hand lifted in departure covered his tracks well enough.
But this...Urahara turned around completely and beamed, immediately opening his arms wide as if in welcome to a beloved and oft-missed friend. With walking cane in one hand, he stepped forward to crow, "By the GODS, ifIbelievedinanygodsthatis, you're perfect! Let me hug you!"
Without awaiting a response - not that she had time to give one considering she used up valuable seconds of escape by trying to process what he actually said and was it a joke or not, yes/no - he already sealed her fate by appearing in front of the stunned girl and scooped down to embrace her, his arms trapping hers. And when he straightened up to his full height without letting go, he lifted her clean off her booted feet, eliciting a muffled squeak of confusion and indignation. The frothing white of her ruffled skirt and petticoats and camera were crushed between them. At this range, he could see the intricate white lace and black ribbon headdress adorning her head.
The focused touch of red at her hip also added to the visual appeal, in stark contrast to the palette of white and black of the dress. Ah, to be at an anime convention where cute girls also dressed up in gothic lolita fashion!
“Please let me go.”
She blinked, twice. Somehow he could feel them. He also felt the tension in her body, most likely a result of his unexpected action. Well, too bad this couldn't go on, but it's not like he's a per-
"PERVERT!"
The shouted accusation strummed through the crowd, freezing the distance between the finger-pointing, orange-haired, part-time shinigami and also part-time high school student thanks to the current issues with the Arrancar and the lolita-hugging, blond-haired, part-time scientist, part-time store owner, and part-time trainer of young would be heroes thanks to, well...let’s not going into that. It’s a long story.
Interested eyes swing in the direction of where the finger pointed.
In the midst of releasing his vision of perfect gothic-lolita-ness, the older man gave Ichigo a half-interested glance only to find that the teen, instead of being more than a hundred feet away, was now right next to him having closed the gap between them in one second flat. Must be my training, Urahara thought smugly.
In that next one second and beyond, he wasn't so smug as an annoyed Ichigo dragged the errant instructor by the back of his collar towards the exit, looking to return them both to training. Training, where they should be instead of here, some gosh dratted however many thousands of miles and not to mention a whole ocean away from home. Oh no. Instead, someone snuck off, which forced the poor student to follow (thereby losing much desired training time), by having to find him.
Tuning out the muttered complaints about his supposed incompetence and lechery, Urahara did get to wave goodbye and apologize to the stunned (yet now perplexed and also a tad bit speculative) female. "Sorry about that picture! Maybe next time!"
~*~
A/N: I apologize (except to the Penguin), for having wasted your time. *bows*
Title: LOL Con
Author: seoinage
Gift For: penguin_sensei
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Urahara, Ichigo, and unnamed victim
Spoilers: Sorta…but not really.
Disclaimer BLEACH © 2001 by TITE KUBO/SHUEISHA Inc. and assorted corporations who bought various rights to it.
~*~
The polite, apologetic inquiry of "Excuse me, but do you mind if I took your picture?" came at the same time as the gentle tug on his sleeve that stopped him from continuing on down the vinyl-floored hallway. Pausing to a click-clack stop of wooden geta on bare feet, the man tilted up the brim of his striped bucket-shaped hat to look over his shoulder. A politely tilted eyebrow that also spoke of his delight accompanied his response. "My picture...?"
A wicked-looking black object lifted for his inspection, but his gaze focus on something other than the camera cradled in her hands. Streams of others passed by in all directions and their background noise filled the space to living. Many sported t-shirts and jeans of varying cleanliness while a smaller percentage paraded to music of their own making, robed in outfits both skimpy (he approved), and elaborate (didn't it get hot? he wondered). He also kept running into regular folks dressed in shinigami uniforms (or at least as close to what they could supply), and some were even imitating him, but of course the real and original version took the number one spot in his mind. And every time they spotted him, it seemed inevitable that the sound of shutter lenses doing their jobs could be heard. He didn't mind, mostly. Sometimes he even posed with them, flashing a two fingered peace sign to add to the mood. And the times he did mind, wanting to instead try a taste of this or that, or to go catch such events entitled “How to Talk to Girls” (not that he needed a refresher since he did well enough on his own, thank you very much, but it’s always interesting to see if any girls showed up), his breezy grin and one hand lifted in departure covered his tracks well enough.
But this...Urahara turned around completely and beamed, immediately opening his arms wide as if in welcome to a beloved and oft-missed friend. With walking cane in one hand, he stepped forward to crow, "By the GODS, ifIbelievedinanygodsthatis, you're perfect! Let me hug you!"
Without awaiting a response - not that she had time to give one considering she used up valuable seconds of escape by trying to process what he actually said and was it a joke or not, yes/no - he already sealed her fate by appearing in front of the stunned girl and scooped down to embrace her, his arms trapping hers. And when he straightened up to his full height without letting go, he lifted her clean off her booted feet, eliciting a muffled squeak of confusion and indignation. The frothing white of her ruffled skirt and petticoats and camera were crushed between them. At this range, he could see the intricate white lace and black ribbon headdress adorning her head.
The focused touch of red at her hip also added to the visual appeal, in stark contrast to the palette of white and black of the dress. Ah, to be at an anime convention where cute girls also dressed up in gothic lolita fashion!
“Please let me go.”
She blinked, twice. Somehow he could feel them. He also felt the tension in her body, most likely a result of his unexpected action. Well, too bad this couldn't go on, but it's not like he's a per-
"PERVERT!"
The shouted accusation strummed through the crowd, freezing the distance between the finger-pointing, orange-haired, part-time shinigami and also part-time high school student thanks to the current issues with the Arrancar and the lolita-hugging, blond-haired, part-time scientist, part-time store owner, and part-time trainer of young would be heroes thanks to, well...let’s not going into that. It’s a long story.
Interested eyes swing in the direction of where the finger pointed.
In the midst of releasing his vision of perfect gothic-lolita-ness, the older man gave Ichigo a half-interested glance only to find that the teen, instead of being more than a hundred feet away, was now right next to him having closed the gap between them in one second flat. Must be my training, Urahara thought smugly.
In that next one second and beyond, he wasn't so smug as an annoyed Ichigo dragged the errant instructor by the back of his collar towards the exit, looking to return them both to training. Training, where they should be instead of here, some gosh dratted however many thousands of miles and not to mention a whole ocean away from home. Oh no. Instead, someone snuck off, which forced the poor student to follow (thereby losing much desired training time), by having to find him.
Tuning out the muttered complaints about his supposed incompetence and lechery, Urahara did get to wave goodbye and apologize to the stunned (yet now perplexed and also a tad bit speculative) female. "Sorry about that picture! Maybe next time!"
~*~
A/N: I apologize (except to the Penguin), for having wasted your time. *bows*