rawrlight
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The classroom a theatre, his classmates the audience, everyone—everyone!—an actor—and he feels an irrational urge, right then and there, to stand up and speak. Something clenches in his chest, and elation hooks a chandelier over the dim, cold classroom lamps, and Neil becomes aware of a yearning, brighter and brighter, that implores him, begs on its knees to speak—and dear God—he wants, and wants, and wants so much that it clenches his hands into fists and his mouth into a line and squeezes life out of him, there to be found yet—and to be an actor, even miles away from a stage, is a prospect as heartbreaking as it’s possible, because now the stage is right in front of him and it’s almost pathetic, is pathetic, how much he wants to feel the words (drip from his tongue, like honey).
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In which Neil’s father doesn’t let him audition for Henley Hall, but A Midsummer Night’s Dream features heavily in Welton’s literature lessons—and when a performance opportunity rolls around (disguised as Welton’s annual Open House ceremony), it prompts Todd into directing that very same play.
And Neil, of course, wants to act.
(Or: In which Todd and Neil save each other.)
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"The man standing in front of him is an affront to humanity. Dark eyebags, hunched figure, crumpled T-shirt paired with blank eyes and pale skin.
The man—thing? —then shuffles forward. Light looks down and immediately regrets it. The thing’s barefoot toes squelch on the hardwood floor which Light had just taken the liberty to sweep. He vows to himself to never do any good deed for anyone ever again.
Smile, Yagami, the voice in his head says."
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or: Light is a part-time barista, and L is his mysterious customer. They take an interest in each other.
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The bell dinged. Light stretched a smile across his face, as far as it could go, and just when he was about to say “Welcome!” in his brightest, cheeriest voice ever, the word wilted on his tongue.
The customer was a weirdo. Not even half a weirdo, not even slightly a weirdo, he was just a full-on weirdo. Light’d seen many weirdos, of course—that was sort of a guarantee of the job. He’d seen drunken love confessions, a guy pissing right next to the entrance, another who purchased twelve cartons of a dozen eggs and proceeded to throw them all out of the car window when he drove away. And on one particularly memorable occasion at 10.37 pm on a Wednesday, a well-dressed businessman had grabbed Light’s wrist, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, “Be careful, boy. The devils in Hell know you, and they’re coming for you.”
Now, looking at the customer before his eyes, Light realised how true that last statement was.
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or: Light, and L, and learning how to be perfectly normal.
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glass half full, i'd probably just drink that too! by rawrlight
Fandoms: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
04 Feb 2025
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He exhaled, going into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. Finally, finally, some peace and quiet—
“Hello,” a voice said from behind the shower curtain.
Light screamed, flinging himself away from the shower curtain.
“Don’t scream.” The voice sounded mildly annoyed, and a pale hand reached out and tugged the shower curtain open. “I don’t look that horrendous, I'm sure. And I'm definitely not as terrible as those people partying down there.”
Light stared at the person before him. He was curled up in the bathtub and looking quite content with the life choices he had made thus far, except he also looked like an anthropomorphic version of a raccoon whose main diet was derived from rummaging through countless dumpsters. The way this unknown person was hunched up in the bathtub was also reminiscent of a shrimp, and the sight made Light vaguely uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scream, I was just…startled, I suppose. I wasn’t expecting someone to be up here…”
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or: Light meets L at a college party that both of them regret going to.
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When Light finally crawled into bed at midnight, an hour behind his usual schedule (oh, god, he hated when things were behind his usual schedule), he was royally pissed the fuck off.
First of all, he had a fucking fifteen minute shower before L banged on the bathroom door to ask him for the hairdryer. And then banged on the bathroom door again to ask when he could come in to brush his teeth and if Light was naked, both questions Light dearly wanted to say no to but clearly could not.
Second of all, L was terrible at keeping his belongings all to himself. Not in the nice, traditional way of oh, I’ll share this with you, but oh, I’ll dump my mess all on your side, which was exactly what he did and now L’s shirts were scattered on the floor around Light’s bed, vaguely resembling some sort of demon exorcism ritual, except with shirts instead of candles.
And the last reason of all, Light could not fucking sleep.
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Alternatively, a road trip, starring Light and L. You can imagine how well that would go.