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bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue · 10 months

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Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 1: Midnight

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! I’ll be writing fics based on their July 30-Day Challenge all this month (if I can!); I’ll also be posting them to AO3 here!

Fittingly, I wrote most of this around/past midnight—my sleep schedule is so messed up these days that I’m most productive between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM, so that’s probably when I’ll be getting most of these stories posted. So if you see me posting, for instance, my fic for Day 1 on what’s technically July 2, well…that’s what I have to say for myself.

This fic was also (minorly) influenced by @graysongraysoff’s first fic for Beboptober 2020, “3, 2, 1…Let’s Jam!”

Also, enjoy this rejected first line: “There are many benefits to being a marine biologist bounty hunter….”

As the clock ticked past midnight, Spike and Jet sat on neighboring barstools, keeping a sharp lookout for the bounty head who was rumored to pass through this bar tonight—or from a message from Faye indicating that the bounty head had visited the bar where she was stationed, instead. There had been no sign of the guy for a while, and the only messages from Faye just consisted of her complaints of boredom. (The bar was on a relatively remote asteroid, after all.) The anticipation and the silence—other than the occasional attempt at conversation from Jet or the crack of peanut shells (no drinks for them tonight, or at least minimal drinks; they needed to focus)—gave Spike a lot of time to think about the reasons he’d become a bounty hunter in the first place. The reasons he’d chosen this offbeat, freelance profession to fill this part of his life—such as it was.

Sure, the paychecks were irregular, often scanty, and—more often than the crew would like—nonexistent. And he wasn’t one to pretend that the money didn’t matter, that he was purely in the bounty-hunting business for the love of the job or whatever. And sure, one could go on and on about catching bad guys, keeping them off the streets, bringing justice to the world—and Spike supposed those were advantages too, though he preferred to leave the philosophizing to Jet. And they definitely weren’t the reason he’d picked up the work. Anyway, on nights like these—when he and Jet and Faye were in their element, and he was sure a fat stack of Woolongs was on their way—Spike preferred to focus on the more practical benefits of the job.

Spike knew he’d chafe in some corporate 9-to-5 job, or in retail or customer service, or in any position with set hours and fake smiles and a supervisor breathing down his neck. He’d struggle and squirm as if wearing an ill-fitting jacket. And he couldn’t imagine having to say things like “actionable items” or “let’s circle back” with a straight face. He often griped and complained about the woes of bounty hunting, but he was feeling unusually optimistic tonight, and he had to admit, the freedom that this job afforded him suited him perfectly.

Take the work hours, for instance. Twelve A.M. and he was wide awake, raring for a catch; in twelve hours he’d probably be passed out on the Bebop’s couch. And the job was so unpredictable that in another twelve hours, he might still be asleep. This was the kind of schedule that suited him; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And to be honest, midnight wasn’t a bad time to be up and working. The sky outside the bar was pitch-black, but the streets hummed with life. As Spike looked around, he saw flickering neon signs, sporadic streetlights, headlights of cars and spacecrafts, and the occasional tiny flame of a lighter filling the darkness. And while he and Jet were quiet, the bar was replete with lively conversation, raucous laughter, and the sounds of games of pool, foosball, and darts, often accompanied by wild cheering. These were technically Spike’s work hours. This bar was sort of his office. The gun resting securely at his side served as his office supplies. What boring corporate job would let him say that?

For another thing, he didn’t have to deal with any stupid dress codes; he never had to memorize the meanings of words like “business casual” or wear the same polo shirt with the same embroidered logo of the same megacorporation as everyone else. He did business dressed up in a suit and tie because he wanted to, and, in his opinion, it looked stylish as hell. (As bonuses, it also allowed him a lot of freedom of movement and was very comfortable, as was evident from the few times Ed had stolen and wrapped herself in it, gleefully flapping the ends of the sleeves.)

Perhaps the best aspect of the job, though, was that every day of it was different. It brought the Bebop crew in contact with such a wide variety of criminals and other strange characters—from senile old chessmasters, to vindictive bombers using teddy bears as their weapons, to homicidal genetically-engineered clowns—that no two people they encountered were ever the same. And if Spike decided a bounty head was too boring, or too much of a small fry, he didn’t have a boss forcing him to take it. (More often, he had an empty bank account and a disapproving look from Jet forcing him to take it—but that was neither here nor there.) Also, the work took Spike and his crewmates pretty much everywhere in the Solar System. He was constantly on the move, never staying in any one place for long. It suited his restless spirit perfectly—and made sure that nothing, or no one, from his past would be able to catch up to him.

“Spike.” Jet’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That’s the guy.”

Spike glanced over to where Jet was gesturing, and sure enough, the muscular, grizzled man entering the bar, with a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his trenchcoat, matched the description in the criminal records and the picture on Big Shot exactly.

With a grin, Spike rested his hand on his own gun. “Let’s get him.”

Sometimes, when he was in a more brooding mood than tonight, he’d reflect on how his life never felt real. How it felt more like a constant dream he could never wake up from. The ephemeral, meandering nature of bounty-hunting, with its strange and amorphous structure, felt dreamlike sometimes, too. And for someone on the outskirts of society, seeking autonomy—well, he guessed that applied to his whole group of crewmates, in one way or another—it was perfect. As much as he liked to complain about the job, it fit him better than he’d like to admit.

And here he was now, in the dead of night in a random bar on an even more random asteroid, easily dodging the bounty head’s blows and landing his own—without making too much of a scene that attracted the rest of the bar. The fight was over quickly enough that the man didn’t even need to pull out his gun. Just the way Spike liked it. As he threw the final punch that rendered the man unconscious and Jet tied him up, he was completely comfortable. Relaxed. In his element.

There were worse ways to spend a dream.

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the-ravenclaw-werewolf · 7 months

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Hey. If you could add more characters to the Fanfic from the same universes as the 40, who would you choose?

For me, it would be...

Zuko: Iroh

Mako: Ryuko and Mataro

Fujiwara: The rest of the student council at that time

Torhu: Yuki Sohma, Kyo Sohma and Shigure Sohma

That's all I got for now. Who would you choose?

If I had gone with more characters, I would be swimming in too many characters! (Ironic, isn’t it?)

But if I had to chose:

Italy: Germany and Japan

Heine Wittgenstein: Viktor, Kai, Bruno, Leonhard, Licht, and Adele von Glanzreich

Levi Ackerman: Hange, Erwin, The Levi Squad, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Marco, Connie, Sasha, Historia, Ymir

Satoru Fujinuma: (Since he an adult during this time) His mom and Airi

Satoru Gojo: Nanami, Maki, Megumi, Nobara, Panda, Toge, Itadori (without Sukana for the time being), Yuta

Spike Spiegel: The Bebop Crew

Kobayashi: Makoto, Tohru, Kanna, Elma, Fafnir, Shouta, Quetzalcoatl, Ilulu

Saitama: Genos

L Lawliet: The Kira Task force, Watari, Near, Mello, Matt, Naomi, Misa Misa (with or without Rem is optional.)

Yuuri Katsuki: Victor, Yurio, Phichit

U-1146: Red Blood Cell, Killer T Cell, Macrophage, Natural Killer Cell, Backwards cap Platelet

Naegi Makoto: Class 78 (without the Despair Sisters)

Haruka Nanase: Iwatobi High School Swim Club and Rin

Kae Serinuma: Asuma, Igarashi, Nanashima, Nishina, Shinomiya

Korra: Mako, Bolin, Asami

Langa Hasegawa: Reki, Miya, Shadow, Joe, and Cherry

Legoshi: Louis, Haru, Jake, and Juno

Mako Mankanshoku: Ryuko and Mataro

Chika Fujiwara: Kaguya, Shirogane, Ishigami

Kusuo Saiki: Kaidou, Nendou, Aren, Mera, Teruhashi, Saiko, Aiura, Hairo, Satou, Reita

Mafuyu Sato: Uenoyama, Akihiko, Haruki

Rin Okumura: (Admittedly I want to only pick Shiro, but this list is only if I had to pick an actually group), Yukio, Izumo, Konekomaru, Renzo, Ryuji, Shiemi

Ryota Suzui: Yumeko and Mary

Tetsuya Kuroko: Seirin Basketball Team

Tohru Honda: Kyo and Yuki Sohma

Zuko: Iroh

Edward Elric: Alphonse, Winry, Roy, Hawkeye, Armstrong, Hughes, Scar, Ling

Haruhi Fujioka: The Host Club

Izuku Midoriya: Class 1A, Aizawa

Senku Ishigami: Taiju, Yuzuriha, Kohaku, Chrome, Kinro, Ginro, Suika, Gen Asagiri, Kaseki

Shoyo Hinata: Karasuno, Coach Ukai, and Takeda

Soma Yukihira: The Rebels

Tanjiro Kamado: Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Aoi, Genya, the Hashira (inculding Kagaya Ubuyashiki)

Iruma Suzuki: The Misfit Class, Kalego, Balam, Opera

Nagisa Shiota: All of class E3, Koro-sensei, Karasuma, Jelavic

Shigeo Kageyama: Reigen

Hanako-kun: Nene and Kou

Ciel Phantomhive: Sebastian, Finnian, Baldroy, Mey-Rin, Snake, and Tanaka.

Killua Zoldyck: Gon, Kurapika, Lerio, and Alluka

Emma: Norman and Ray

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skuldarfin · 11 months

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Cowboy Bebop: Ed, Faye, Spike, Ein and Jet.

Another old bit of fan art. Tweaking my style to be somewhat anime-ish.

#cowboy bebop #faye valentine #spike spiegel #jet black #ein #ed #Bebop crew #digital art #digital coloring #fan art #fanart #cowboy bebop anime

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onedirecton · 3 months

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*blows a kiss to the stars* for ed and ein

#cowboy bebop #hope they r having a rootin tootin time out there wherever they are <3 #actually big smooch to the entire bebop crew <3

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torpublishinggroup · 1 year

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Which Dysfunctional Space Crew Do You Belong In?

by a bunch of raccoons in a trench coat & a cat

sup space babes—we're serving up hot fresh dysfunctional space crew quiz content 💪😤🚀

which cosmic crew of intergalactic flops are you destined to flip in? who cares if that sentence doesn't make sense. boldly go and take our book marketing quiz!

#space crew #silly little quiz #empress of forever #max gladstone #fractalverse #christopher paolini #fractal noise #ryka aoki #light from uncommon stars #you sexy thing #cat rambo #cowboy bebop #click the right answers and you'll get to learn abt our space werewolf girlfriend zanj

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feytouched · 5 months

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ok 3, 2, 1, let's jam...!

forgekeepers x cowboy bebop

#my art #the dynamic of the bebop crew is soooooo them like #alexa and theefs are v similar to faye and ed respectively #and spike is artem if he was always cool #dúri takes care of everyone and has tired dad energy so he's a good fit for jet #and addan is a druid so he could turn into a dog if he wanted to #oc: alexa #forgekeepers #addan #artem summa #dúri blackshield #theefsa

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swan2swan · 3 months

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I'M SORRY, BLUE EYE SAMURAI IS GOOD, BUT THIS EPISODE OF SAMURAI CHAMPLOO CLEARS IT BY SO MANY MILES.

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koropukgoro · 1 year

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My favorite fact about that movie is that it was written by the same guy who made Re-animator/From Beyond which is why it has horror elements in it. The bee and spider scenes are terrifying!!!! And lawn mower… apparently he wanted to be a little more daring (the idea of children in deadly danger depictions on the big screen was wonky back then) but Disney said no was why he left after they messed w his script. I want to see his vision I want my 90’s camp horror film that involves being very small.

#I’m a big cinema nut I love behind the scenes and how movie magic works especially from that era #Lots of good forced perspective use of miniatures and acting on a projected screen #The projected screen technique is actually how they filmed the tiny ash clones in army of darkness #You can tell very easily too with how some quick scenes have ash in completely different light from the tiny clones #But it’s still so impressive with their budget limits and ofc Sam Raimi’s silly visions 💚#ANYWAYS in regards to Spike — they just gotta find out how to unshrink him and what the device that shrunk him is used for #But that can take a week… maybe more #And the bebop crew is full of CLOWNS #Only Jet is in any way responsible with spike’s height issue and treats it seriously!!!#And maybe Ein but Ein is a dog #I do love doodling tiny spike leaning against Ein or on top of him so cute Ein is so excited #Txt #replies #Reddragoncowboy

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nicholasthepunisher · 2 years

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me n that deranged julia stan both think we’re right about our interpretations of a fictional character and his relationship with another fictional character but the key difference between us is that i don’t go out of my way to edit specific wikia pages relating to said character to impart my own view on something that should be written in a way that is objective and unbiased, bc it is a fucking wikia page that should be describing the events of the show as they appear in the fucking show

#actually i'll be honest i think i'm right and they're wrong. they're wrong about so many things #they're taking spike and morphing him into a character that is nearly unrecogniseable #just cus they have this weird little obsession with julia and need everyone to know how right they think they are #bro you can project onto spike all you want but it doesn't change the fact that he is a selfless caring person who loves the bebop crew #and isn't purely motivated by julia #bebop tag #text

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katlimeart · 1 year

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Made in 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021 + 2022

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as various girls

1. Onnanoko (Wrecking Crew 98)

2. Wii Fit U Trainer

3. Kiara (Kiara the Brave/Super K: The Movie)

4. Melisande (The Flight of Dragons)

5. Snow White (A Snow White Christmas)

6. Faye Valentine (Cowboy Bebop)

7. Pauline in a Cherryton Uniform (Beastars)

8. Rosalina in a PK Academy Uniform (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K)

9. Miki as Cinderella (Pokonyan!)

10. Nina Zenik (Six of Crows) - requested by sandsofeternaltime

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ibrokeeverything · 1 year

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I feel like there's got to be some kind of symbolism behind all the no smoking signs, areas, and comments from other people in cowboy bebop, but I'm too stupid to figure it out right now...

#im only on ep 19 #so maybe I'll figure it out by the end of the show #it just shows up too frequently for it to be a coincidence...#there's probably something there about the bebop crew being isolated and not belonging anywhere except with each other #or something like that?#who knows 🤷‍♀️#cowboy bebop

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bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue · 10 months

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Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 2: Summer Nights

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! This one is, of course, inspired by the song “Summer Nights” from Grease. Takes place post-finale.

Summer lovin’, had me a blast…

Summer lovin’, happened so fast…

Faye swore she usually had more sophisticated tastes than the almost-a-century-old film about teenage greasers in the 1950s, peppily singing and dancing their way through high school friendships and romances. Grease, she admitted, was a bit of a guilty pleasure for her, and she knew she’d probably be subject to merciless teasing if any other members of the crew caught her watching it unironically. But she stood by her love of the movie, embarrassing as it may have been.

She knew, of course—she knew very well from experience—that the real world wasn’t like the one portrayed in Grease; it didn’t have musical numbers and dance-offs and perfect happy endings where people’s cars inexplicably took off flying into the sky. (Although she supposed maybe her Red Tail counted…) The real world was filled with hard times, bad luck, scammers and con artists you couldn’t trust. The real world, put simply, sucked. But sometimes it was nice to pretend.

And at the end of a long, crappy day like today—when her bounty heads had all gotten away, her horses had all lost, and to top it all off, there was nothing good to eat anywhere on the ship—it was nice to watch something calming, familiar, silly, that would let her relax and turn off her brain. Particularly when she was in the optimal viewing position: alone, curled up on her bed, with headphones connected to the TV and jammed firmly over her ears. It especially helped if she had a drink or two to go with it, too. (Because of course the ship had that.)

“Damn, Faye,” came a voice, “didn’t realize you were actually twelve years old.” Faye turned in surprise to see Spike standing in the doorway, a sideways grin on his face.

She was going to destroy these headphones.

“Oh, are you talking about this absolute cinematic masterpiece I’m watching?” she said lightly, taking off her headphones so they hung around her neck, but letting the movie continue to play in the background. She knew this whole song by heart anyway, not that she’d readily admit that to Spike. Now that her headphones were off, she could tell they didn’t block out noise very well—stupid cheap things—and the movie’s sounds were quite easily audible through their tinny speakers even when they were plugged in. The T-Birds and the Pink Ladies crooned faintly underneath her words. Tell me more, tell me more….

“This music is giving me diabetes just from listening to it,” Spike complained.

Faye grinned. “Your tastes just aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate it.” She may have dreaded her crewmates’ teasing, but she could give as good as she got.

Spike made his way to Faye’s bed and leaned over her shoulder to look at the movie. A few minutes passed quietly this way, with Spike furrowing his brow, a vaguely confused expression on his face as he took in the action. Finally, he broke the silence. “There’s no way these actors are high schoolers,” he said, jabbing his finger at Rizzo on the screen. “I mean, how old’s that one? 30?”

“I notice you haven’t stopped watching.”

“I just wanna see how stupid it is,” Spike protested. But, just as Faye said, he didn’t stop watching. He kept looking over Faye’s shoulder, leaning against her bedpost in that casual way of his. He was mostly silent except for the occasional, “Who’s that?” and “What’s with that ridiculous getup?” and “Oh, god dammit, they’re singing again?”

Faye found it strange to watch her designated Movie For Bad Days with Spike in the room, judging it all. But she duly fended off his comments: “That’s Frenchy, she’s one of the Pink Ladies”; “You mean that beautiful getup, and it’s from like 120 years ago anyway”; “It’s a musical, Spike, not a snooze-ical. Now shut up, I wanna hear this.”

At one point, Spike pointed to Danny Zuko and asked, with a sly, joking smile, “You think I could pull off that look?”

“As if there was enough grease in the world to tame your hair like that.”

“Find me a pair of leather pants,” he said, “and I’ll get back to you.”

“The real question is, could you dance like that,” said Faye.

“Could I? Sure,” Spike answered. “Would I? With all those weird-ass pelvic thrusts? You couldn’t pay me.”

Faye smiled; she couldn’t help herself. “That’s kinda what you look like when you’re fighting.”

“Please.” Spike shook his head and turned away. “Zucchini or whatever his name is wishes he could do it like me.”

At another point, he blurted out incredulously, “You have this shit memorized?” and Faye realized she’d been unconsciously mouthing the lyrics to one of the songs, matching it word-for-word. She hadn’t even noticed she was doing it.

“You know the exact order of all those tracks on Jet’s favorite Charlie Parker album,” she rejoined.

“I’d better,” Spike grumbled, “after he’s subjected me to it all those times.” Then he looked at her, his brow furrowed again. “How many times have you watched this?”

“Maybe I’m just a genius,” she said, “with a photographic memory. And I can learn things by heart after only seeing them once.”

Spike snorted. “And that’s why you’re so great at blackjack.”

“Screw you, Spike,” she said, taking another swig of alcohol and turning her attention back to the screen.

A few minutes of silence passed before she spoke again.

“I watched this as a kid,” she said, her voice quieter as she reminisced. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Spike leaning in a tiny bit closer to listen. “My friends and I did a cheerleading routine to Greased Lightning one year, and we performed it at our school’s end-of-year exhibition.” Her face split into a surprisingly soft grin at the memory. “One of my friend’s moms showed us the actual movie, and after that we watched it so many times that we memorized all the songs, not just Greased Lightning, and we’d act them out when we were bored. God, we made up whole dance routines to them.” She gave a small laugh. “We must have looked so ridiculous. There weren’t enough of us for all the roles, so usually one of us was all of the T-Birds at once, and one of us was all the Pink Ladies. It’s one of the memories that came back.”

She wasn’t usually this unguarded, especially not when she talked about herself, and especially not when she recalled another snatch of memory about her past life. It usually just brought back what had been taken from her, what would never be again. It felt like physical pain, like jabbing at a bruise or a gunshot wound that hadn’t fully healed.

She wasn’t sure what had changed today. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was as if the wound was finally starting to scar over. Her past memories no longer always came with the sharp pang of the reminder of what she didn’t have. Now, she could recall the happiness of back then, too, and just appreciate it for what it was.

Or maybe it was because she wasn’t entirely friendless anymore. Although she’d never consider doing a choreographed dance routine to Greased Lightning with the friends she had now. (Then again, it did make her laugh to imagine Spike forced into what he’d called “that ridiculous getup,” a deep scowl on his face as he halfheartedly performed the movements.)

What mattered was that her friends were there. In a way, they’d always been there, there on the Bebop—the place she’d flitted into and out of at will, the place she’d refused to ever truly consider a home, the only place left for her after every place she remembered from her childhood was destroyed. After spending so long on the ship with Spike and Jet and Ed and Ein—these people who didn’t abandon her, even if they left for a while—she was just beginning to appreciate that.

Spike appeared to consider her words for a while, looking surprisingly thoughtful, pensive. Faye wondered if he was imagining what she must have looked like as a kid, twirling and dancing around with her friends. She’d only been a year or two younger than when she’d recorded the VHS for her future self, after all.

Then, abruptly, his face snapped back into its usual cool, lazy expression. “So…you’re not a genius with a photographic memory.”

“Maybe I just had to watch it once back then to memorize it,” she said, her light tone returning as well. “And how do you know I’m not a genius? Sixty years is a long time to keep something in your head, you know.”

That was another sign she was recovering from having lost her memories and then gotten them back. She could joke about it. The wound didn’t feel too fresh, too raw. The realization made her heart feel light.

“Now shut up,” she said, a faint smile on her face. “I wanna watch.”

Spike rolled his eyes, but obligingly shut up. But he did elbow Faye, prompting her to scooch over, and then clambered onto her bed next to her, leaning over to see the screen without touching her. Faye didn’t kick him off.

And together—Spike with his knees drawn up to his chest, Faye mouthing and sometimes softly singing all the lyrics she could remember, both of them taking alternating swigs from the bottle between them—they watched.

Summer dreams ripped at the seams,

But oh, those summer nights….

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