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Thinking back to the kiralu fic again. Trying to think of some chapter titles. I want them to read like manga chapter titles! So far, my ideas are “Lucille Cunningham Needs Control, Part 1/2” and “Negative Creep/Lucille Cunningham’s Negative Creep”. I want a few in reference to Kira too but we will see what happens

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This is so me. Insanely me

I was studying names for animals in german and IMMEDIATELY recognized "taube" (dove) bc of all the medic fanfic ive read

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I am unsure about that curious butterfly but HARLOW I SEE YOU YOU AINT SLICK. And thank you to whoever sent in the bill. I am a fan.

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CLANCY AND FRITZ POSTING!!!!!!!! I think about tf2 all the time. I am sorry that blonde demon has taken me away from you medic. I love you forever

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the

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Obsessed with this addition thank you

Does heavy tf2 apply sunscreen to his bald head or like what

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LUCILLE!!!!!!!!

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Does heavy tf2 apply sunscreen to his bald head or like what

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Last semester I had an online creative writing class that I turned into “how can I write fanfiction with this weeks’ topic for my submissions?” And I wrote. Boy did I write. and I would like to share one of these submissions tonight. KiraLu as written like a stage play. Written beneath the cut

This was before I had as much of an understanding of her character as I do now, so if I were to rewrite it, there would be a little more nuance to her. I’m still pleased with how it turned out.

KIRA and LUCILLE are drunk in his home. There is a dining room table to stage left, immaculately organized with three chairs; there is an implied fourth, but the space is empty for the audience to see better. Also present, more to stage left, is a couch with one blanket neatly folded over its back. There is a countertop behind them to imply a kitchen.

LUCILLE is slumped in the rightmost chair at the table, practically laying down, with her head craned back to rest upon the top of it. She is still in her work uniform, but it has obviously been loosened around the collar, and her skirt has ridden up on her legs.

KIRA is out of his blazer and making tea at the counter. His button down is, similarly to hers, undone at the collar, but not a button more. He turns on his heel to slink over to her.

KIRA sets a mug in front of her before rounding the table, setting his own mug down, and pulling out the chair opposite her. He sits down with weight to his drop.

The two of them sit quietly for a long while. He sips his tea, eyes lidded, and watches as she pulls herself upright limb by limb.

KIRA: [hesitantly] … Do you always drink so much?

LUCILLE peels her eyes open, dropping a hand over the top of her mug to move it close to her.

LUCILLE: Only on special occasions.

She slips her hand down to the handle, curling her fingers around it in a way that makes KIRA tense. She takes a sip, but as soon as she swallows, her face scrunches up and she coughs.

LUCILLE, disgusted: Ugh! What is that?

Kira’s jaw ticks as he warms his hands on the sides of his mug. He watches her choke on the drink a moment more before she settles, and only then does he begin to speak.

KIRA: Green tea. It contains L-theanine, and will help with easing your intoxication. It will rebalance the chemicals in your brain.

As he speaks, LUCILLE slumps forward, her expression exaggeratedly confused.

LUCILLE: … you talk too much. [she huffs through her nose, resting her elbows on the table. Her manners are usually better than this.] You’re drunk… act like it.

Kira brings his tea to his lips amidst her slurred dialogue. He stomachs the grassy taste without a flinch.

KIRA, having just swallowed: You could do to act more sober.

LUCILLE scowls at him, but it carries no real threat. Her arms move to lay flat over one another, and she rests her head atop them.

LUCILLE: Always something to say. Too much to say. [she hiccups, and it makes her wince.]

KIRA: Perhaps you never have enough to say.

He sips his tea again, and she remains quiet, as though the force of the hiccup had physically harmed her.

KIRA, setting the mug back atop the table, holding it with both hands: You talk more than anyone else we know, but you never really say anything, do you?

She remains quiet, and he allows the silence to settle between them. He blinks slowly, like he is outside of himself and having to move his eyelids with conscious effort. His shoulders, slowly, fall relaxed, and are not as square as they always are. His words don’t really hit her, per se, but rather are seeds that plant themselves in her head, and slowly begin to fester as her inebriated mind makes sense of them.

KIRA: In fact, I’m certain I don’t really know anything about you.

A beat.

KIRA: I don’t like that.

LUCILLE’s brow twitches, and her eyes open to stare at him.

LUCILLE, muffled: You know plenty.

KIRA: I can’t understand you like that.

She raises her head, expression more irritated now.

LUCILLE: I said you know plenty about me.

KIRA: Very little.

LUCILLE, impatiently: A polite amount.

KIRA, narrowing his eyes: And that seems uncanny for a relationship such as ours,

Her eyes widen a fraction.

KIRA:… don’t you think?

LUCILLE is quiet again. In separate movements, she sits up straight, scoots her chair in with her hips, and moves her hands to her lap.

LUCILLE, hesitant in a way more suspicious than uncomfortable: Is that right?

Kira’s eyes flicker observantly over her as her posture shifts, and it makes him shift in his seat.

KIRA: I would think so.

LUCILLE: Tell me what you know about me.

KIRA: Well…

He clears his throat and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt as he begins to speak. This quietly catches her attention.

KIRA: You… are from Illinois. Is that correct?

LUCILLE: That’s right. Springfield.

KIRA: Springfield. And I know you were transferred to Japan as a director for Kame Yu department stores.

LUCILLE: That’s two.

KIRA: And just tonight, I learned you and I live in the same area.

LUCILLE: That’s three things off the top of your head… I’d say that was plenty.

KIRA’s jaw clenches, and he leans forward a good bit to look at her from under his brows.

KIRA: I beg to differ, miss Lucille. And your tea is getting cold.

His tone quiets her, raises her brow, and she stomachs another sip of the now-cooler tea. She makes a face, but says nothing of it.

LUCILLE: You never seem very curious at work… [a hiccup, less intense]… what is with your changed tone this evening?

KIRA lowers his head to rub at the back of his neck as he prepares his words. Being relatively modest, this is the most disheveled she’d ever seen him.

KIRA, head down: … perhaps I drank a bit too much. Besides,

He raises his head, lowering his hands to clasp on the tabletop.

KIRA: It’s strange, already, that a woman with a position much higher than mine is so chatty with me.

LUCILLE: I’m chatty with everyone.

KIRA: That’s the only thing saving me. If I were to reciprocate, I’d never hear the end of it from Mahito.

This gets a dry laugh out of LUCILLE, who leans forward against the table some in her drunkenness. KIRA is not laughing; he is used to her being easily amused.

LUCILLE: Well… Mahito isn’t here, is he?

A beat.

KIRA: I suppose he isn’t.

LUCILLE: Then ask me.

KIRA: Ask you what?

LUCILLE: Whatever it is you’re dying to know.

Kira stares at her for a moment, and the faintest hint of a smile crosses his lips.

KIRA: Very well.

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So if I said I was drafting a fic…

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Shoutout by the way to the person literally writing Lou Barnette into THEIR fanfiction??? HELLO

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Answer my riddles three and you might get it back

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MY STRAWPAGE!

Send me anything you like, just preferably not your tax info. That’s tiring.

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Thinking about Medic again… sigh…

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Sorry I've been dead! I hope this drawing makes up for my absence. (Click for better quality)

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loubill has rotted my brain i hate them

SCREAMINGGGGGGG I HAVE MADE IT I HAVE REALLY MADE IT GUYS