Okay since I'm in Zosan hell rn. Here's an AU idea I cooked up based on @/7Shizuka9's Isekai Au on Twitter.
So in this story, Zoro was competing against Mihawk in a famous Kendo competition. He manages to get into the semi-finals and come face to face with Mihawk but unfortunately lost, only to win in second place with an injury on his chest. Zoro, feeling like he broke his promise to Kuina all those years ago (and being a dramatic ass/sore loser) overstrains himself in hospital and dies.
Suddenly when Zoro wakes up, he finds himself transported into a romance visual novel and he, you guessed it, is the main protagonist. Meaning like ants attracted to a puddle of honey, all the girls are throwing themselves at him. And he hates it because:
1. He's awkward and an ass
2. He's thinks about Kendo and only kendo (i.e. he doesn't even know how to open the goddamn game menu)
3. He's gay. EXTREMELY GAY.
So for one person, this scenario could be heaven, but for Zoro, it's an equivalent to Dante's Inferno and he's not having a good time.
But for every demon comes a guardian angel and his shining light is Sanji Blackleg: His classmate and love rival in the game.
Except he's not a guardian angel. Because to Zoro, he's a douchebag to all of the guys, including him. So naturally, he hates Sanji's guts and the feeling is mutual on blondie's side too (because Zoro is goddamn cockblock)
At first these guys can't stand each other. They argue in the halls, in class, on cleaning day. It's a nonstop bickering and punching match for these two.
But everything changed once Zoro saw Sanji giving a bento box to a homeless kid on the street, snacks to the school's gardener, and finally, giving Zoro some handmade rice balls himself after Zoro's stomach growled from not eating anything since his reincarnation.
So to make amends, Zoro subtly makes attempts to get the girls to pursue Sanji instead of him. Sanji takes notice of this and confronts him about it. Zoro replies with:
"Because if anyone deserves someone, that'd be you Curly."
And since then, they try to help each other out, Zoro putting a good word for Sanji (albeit terribly) and Sanji pursuing the girls.
Their pursuits don't go so well (The game unfortunately makes the girls go "Urk!" when they see him) and it comes to a point where one girl rejects Sanji's advances completely and throws Sanji's home-made bento box to the ground.
Zoro, annoyed and upset that their hard work has gone to waste, eats the ruined bento from the ground and eats it in front of Sanji to cheer him up.
And Sanji with his cheeks flushed, angrily shouts at Zoro for eating like an animal and offers him to go to a famous ramen place, his treat.
*cue more shojo shenanigans insue*
I might make more but you'll get this for now lol
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WIP Wednesday 📝
Kickstarting things off with a little something from a new wip for the Daylight Series -> I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) <- which is Eddie’s POV of his and Buck’s first meeting plus some of what happens after Buck leaves him and Chris at the cafe ☕️
Writing essentially the same story but in someone else’s POV hasn’t been as easy as I thought 😅, but it’s been fun and I’m all about trying different things when it comes to writing. Find what I like and what I’m good at.
Without further ado, here’s a lil snippet …
“Is it possible to die from embarrassment?”
Eddie doesn’t think Buck was meant to say that out loud but he answers him anyway, creating an opportunity to introduce himself.
“It’s possible, but it’s extremely rare so I think you’re safe. Guess you’ll just have to live with your shame like the rest of us.” He smiles openly at Buck, hoping to ease some of the man’s nerves. “I’m Eddie by the way, Christopher’s dad.”
Buck repeats Eddie’s name back to him, like he’s testing it out and the way he says it, Eddie can’t explain, but it feels like being called home.
He wonders if saying Buck’s name will leave him with a similar feeling, but he doesn’t get to test it as Christopher makes them aware that he is still present by asking about pancakes. Eddie doesn’t usually get so distracted that he forgets his kid is with him but there’s just something about Buck that has drawn him in and captured his attention. It could just be because he’s extremely attractive, but in his gut Eddie knows it’s something more. What that more is, he doesn’t know, but he thinks he’d like to find out.
Eddie reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. “Well I can’t deny a budding guitarist pancakes now can I?”
Chris beams at them then asks if Buck can join them and Eddie thinks his son might just be as taken by Buck as Eddie seems to be, probably more so.
“You’re gonna have to ask him, mijo.”
Buck seems rather taken aback when Chris asks him, like he was just expecting them to shake hands and then part ways. He mustn’t have any kids of his own or any nieces or nephews because kids are notorious for making friends within 5 minutes and then wanting to invite their new friends home. Chris is just inviting Buck to Abuela’s for pancakes instead of to their apartment, which is almost the same thing seeing as they live above the cafe.
No pressure tagging: @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @athenagranted @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @lover-of-mine @devirnis @exhuastedpigeon @shitouttabuck @hoodie-buck @rainbow-nerdss @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @callmenewbie @jeeyuns @captain-hen @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @homerforsure @princessfbi @nmcggg and anyone else who wants to share something 😘
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(FINE I guess this is a series now. whatever.)
“He’s where,” says Steve.
“Off to see the wizard, my dude.” Argyle passes him a pipe. Steve’s not really sure where it came from or when Argyle packed it, but he’s got manners, so he takes a hit and hands it off to Jonathan.
“Murray,” elaborates Jonathan, on an exhale. “The…you know. Oh wow, I guess you’ve never met Murray either. That’s weird, right? I mean, you were there, you were just…”
“Babysitting, probably,” says Steve. “Wait, why is Eddie meeting this guy?”
Argyle gestures in a big loopy way. It reminds Steve a little bit of how Eddie waves his arms around. “Eddie’s on, like, a spiritual journey. A dream quest, but…real life. The realest.”
“Not spiritual like church,” adds Jonathan. “Like, gay spirit. Is that a thing? Shit, why doesn’t anyone know Murray.”
“I don’t know Murray either, man,” says Argyle.
“Is…Murray a real person?” Steve asks. He doesn’t think it’s an unreasonable question.
“Yes! Jesus. He’s real, okay? Nancy knows Murray, we—yeah. Nancy knows him.” Jonathan looks kind of dour and depressed, but he always sort of looks like that.
“How’s Nancy doing?” Steve doesn’t really want to know, but it seems like the polite thing to say.
“We’re fine,” says Jonathan.
“Okay,” says Steve, who hadn’t asked that at all.
“Everything’s fine,” Jonathan repeats. Argyle reaches over to pat Jonathan on the head, then takes the pipe from Jonathan’s hand.
———
“Hm,” says Murray. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking behind all the facial hair and glasses. “Okay, I don’t usually do this, but…what the hell. Kiddo, you are way too young to be talking like that. Your life’s not over, and if you’re smart about it, it doesn’t have to be over any time soon.”
Murray sits back on the couch, kicking up his feet. There’s a hole in his left sock.
“You think happily ever after only looks like one thing? That’s the thought of a child. If you really want, you can make some kind of picket fence life for yourself, suburbs and all. But you’re a queer, so that means you don’t have to do that shit because nobody’s expecting you to anymore. You get to decide what matters to you.”
“I don’t know any way to be gay that’s not lonely as hell,” Eddie says.
“That’s because you’re an idiot and an infant,” says Murray gently.
“You don’t have a—a boyfriend.” It comes out a little too sharp and mean, but Eddie’s feeling cornered.
Murray laughs. “Kid, what did I just say? I don’t want a damn boyfriend. Some guy coming over here all the time, eating my food? Hell no. We’re degenerate homos, we get to decide what to keep and what to shove down the god damn garbage disposal. I got some arrangements in place, and that’s the way I like it. The whole lovey-dovey romance shit isn’t for me.”
Eddie draws his legs up, wrapping his arms around his shins. His boots are probably leaving marks on the couch, but Murray can deal. “I think it…I think that is for me. I want that to be for me. Um. In general.”
Murray actually tilts his head down to give Eddie a scathing look over the top of his glasses. “No shit, Joan Jett. Your whole ooh please push past my defenses to prove you love me schtick is visible from space.”
“Fuck,” says Eddie, knocking his head against his knees. He closes his eyes, humiliated beyond words, feeling scooped-out and awful.
“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Eddie feels a tap on his arm, and when he looks up, Murray’s holding out a glass with about an inch of amber liquid in it. “We all go through something like that. It’s a rite of passage, just like it is to get so wasted you throw up on the stranger you dragged into a club bathroom. You’ll do that too. You’re gonna be messy and embarrassing anyway, so just enjoy the ride. And take the damn Talisker, it’ll help.”
Eddie takes the damn Talisker and knocks it back in one go, just to be an ass. Murray rolls his eyes but pours him another one.
“Ah, practical shit…” Murray scratches at his beard thoughtfully. “Been a while since I had to do this. Poppers are great, don’t overdo ‘em. Splurge on the fancy medical lube if you want but Vaseline or Crisco’ll do the trick just fine. And listen up, kitten, because you can ignore everything else that comes outta my mouth, but you can’t ignore this: always wrap it up. I mean always. I don’t care if he’s your soulmate, I don’t care if it kills the mood, I don’t care if he says he’s a blushing goddamn virgin. If he doesn’t want to wear a rubber, he doesn’t care if you live or die.”
Murray looks down at his own glass. For the first time, Eddie thinks he looks—tired.
“I know there’s probably a big part of you that doesn’t care if you live or die, either. But you gotta remember there’s people who do. The kid who sent you to me. He doesn’t want to go to your funeral.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. It comes out too quiet; he swallows and tries again. “Yeah. I know. I’ve—been to funerals too.”
Murray barks out a surprised laugh. “God, you have, haven’t you? Think I was almost thirty, my first time. I’m sorry, Joan Jett, this isn’t a great time to be young and gay. Go make friends with some dykes, they’ll keep you sane.”
Eddie, who has held Robin’s hair back as she ralphed into a bucket after losing a Peeps-eating competition with Steve, has his doubts, but he just nods.
Murray looks at him for a moment, then takes his face between two big hands and kisses him on the forehead. It feels neither sexual nor familial, but something beyond all of the easy categories Eddie’s known.
“Now piss off,” Murray says. “Don’t get some crazy idea that this means we’re friends, or that you can start coming around whenever you feel like it.”
“So, just Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Sunday,” says Eddie, and ducks out before Murray can start cussing at him.
———
See, Eddie’s little crush on Steve is meant to be purely recreational. It’s fun to crush on unavailable guys he knows—way more fun than celebrities or whatever. It’s just nice, to feel his heart speed up a little when Steve’s around, safe in the certain knowledge that he’s never going to do a damn thing about it. It even feels good to hurt a little bit over it, achy and sharp, like pushing on a bruise.
Yeah, Eddie knows he’s a little fucked up. But he figures this is harmless enough: a secret little vice that nobody’s ever going to know about.
Apparently, everybody knows.
“Um,” says Jonathan, wide-eyed. “Was it…supposed to be a secret?”
“Yes,” hisses Eddie. “Because this is Hawkins, Indiana, and I don’t want to fucking die. Did we or did we not just have a conversation about the many and various perils this whole thing entails.”
“My dude, if you don’t want it to be, like, public knowledge, maybe don’t flirt with him so much?”
“Betrayal!” Eddie gasps, staggering around like he’s been stabbed in the back, because he fucking has. “An unjust hit by Argyle the Assassin.”
“Argyle the Assistant,” says Argyle. “I’m assisting you, bro.”
“I don’t flirt with Steve!” Eddie screeches. “We’re friends! I flirt with you two dickwads more than I do with Steve, because I don’t flirt with Steve!”
“You really do,” says Jonathan apologetically. “Kind of…a lot. Remember when we were out by the quarry, and you kept calling him princess.”
“As a joke!”
“Ohhh yeah,” says Argyle. “That was the day you, like…took his jacket, right?”
“I was cold!”
Jonathan grins. “Is that why you kept asking him how it looked on you?”
“As…a joke,” says Eddie, weakly. He’s starting to remember that it might’ve been even worse; the words do I look pretty in your clothes, Stevie may or may not have been uttered.
“Hey, man, it’s no biggie. That was a million years ago and he didn’t say anything, so you’re free and clear. Totally righteous.” Argyle throws an arm around Eddie, who curls into him sulkily. Argyle’s tall and solid and kinda hot, so it’s a real shame Eddie can’t crush on him instead.
Eddie sighs. “If Jonathan weren’t here, I’d ask you to make out with me until I felt better,” he says.
“What,” says Jonathan. “You can’t—I mean, you can, and I, uh—support you? Should I leave?”
“Aw,” says Argyle, and ruffles Eddie’s hair. “That’s sweet, dude. If Jonathan weren’t here, I would.”
“What is happening,” says Jonathan. “I’m gonna—should I leave? I’m gonna leave.”
Eddie whines, “No, c’mon, stay, we’ll do that seance. That’ll make me feel better too. Maybe we can resurrect my deceased heterosexuality.”
They don’t manage to raise any ghosts or any heterosexualities, but it does make Eddie feel a little better anyway.
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