#fic: the long way around

[redrobin-detective]

Number One Hero, Kacchan otherwise known as Bakugou Katsuki, gets hit by the quirk erasing bullet during a raid. He's not going to think about the implications of possibly losing his quirk forever. He's certainly not going to think about what he would do if he couldn't be a hero. No, he's going to intern for Japan's one and only quirkless hero, Deku, to catch the villains who thought they could take him out.

A story of two quirkless idiots trying to save the world, themselves and maybe grow up. Just a little bit.

-

The sequel no one asked for but I had a lot of fun writing! Exploring a few years further into TLWA verse and the impact of Quirkless Deku on society, what it means to lose the thing you value the most about yourself and growing up.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.

Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?

I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.

You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[kusanagihaku]

because love knows no distance

⭢ haku x mc, 10.8k

His eyes alight on yours, a sunset-warm that sends sparks skipping down your veins, a July-gold that spreads like lava to the tips of your fingers. You’re not sure how you’ve ever denied it, but now, under the spotlight of his gaze, your heart thrums with what it knows to be true – that you have loved Haku through every version of him, just as he has loved you through every version of you.

or: childhood friends to lovers au with a side of hotarubi shenanigans, because i couldn't resist. on ao3 here.

[boycarfreak]

the tags from this post lowkey possessed me and i couldn't get them out of my head the entire walk back home from a grocery run so i sat at the computer after dinner and typed this out instead of being productive. enjoy, haha?

“Do you wanna know what i opened my burner insta to today Max?”

Daniel breaks off their kiss and practically breathes on him, leaning away after indulgently laying a wet smooch on his lips when Max follows him on instinct. Not a real kiss, like the one they were sharing before with Max spreadeagle on top of Daniel’s sheets with Daniel lazily humping his hard-on onto the soft line of Max’s tummy from where he’s perched on his tummy. It takes a stretch of minutes where Daniel’s staring at him in silence for Max to finally process his words, brain cloudy in the way it gets when Daniel crowds in on him like this even after all these years.

“What is it?”

The smile lines around Daniel’s eyes from decades upon decades of contracting muscle to give way to the most stunning sunbright smile a man could wake up to from the other side of the bed, digs deep rivulets into his skin as Daniel’s lips stretch in a smile and he pecks the underside of Max’s jaw like he’s done something impressive when all Max’s really done is give a simple answer to a question he’s been asked. That doesn’t stop a small smile from ticking up the corners of Max’s own lips, that’s just the effect Daniel has on people.

“It was a shot of you in your fireproofs” Daniel whispers consiprationally into his skin as he peppers a trail of kisses from his jaw to his breastbone, nibbling at spots of skin along the way leaving max shivering in their wake. “You were going all inspector mode on you car baby, but the people in the comments were doing exactly that with you ” Daniel drops a kiss to his sternum, ticklish when his beard snags at the motion and looks up at Max through his lashes, chin digging into the soft give of where his belly just starts. “They were calling you so shaped Maxie, they were calling your white fireproofs a blessing on humanity and god the things they were threatening to do with your tits sweetheart” A white hot burst explodes in Max’s belly at that, inches from where Daniel’s face palmed himself on to Max like this is too much for him as well. Max’s never particularly been bothered with the way his chest’s filled out in the past couple years in particular from all his workout regimes. Nor has he been phased by comments of the kind he’s seen people leave under his own posts or the Redbull official accounts. But just like with everything else when its coming from Daniel, when Daniel seems to like it that people other than him are looking at and thinking about Max in this way, its enough to get Max straining in his boxers.

“But you Daniel of course are the only one that gets to do anything to my tits” His words give way to a sharp gasp when Daniel twists the bud of his left nipple between long fingers, almost as if in retaliation. His head swivels up and his eyes bug out like he wasn’t expecting the reaction. “Sensitive, are we?” He flattens his palm over Max’s left pec and skates the bitten raw fingernail of his thumb over the bud, hungrily absorbing every twitch in Max’s facial expression when he visibly looses his breath over it.

Daniel shoots up, spine ramrod straight the way he’s always trying to get Max to sit and in one collective scoop he’s got two palmfuls of Max cupped in his hands. He’s kneading the muscle of Max’s chest the way you’d do a girl’s, not just the nipples but all around it as well, like Max might defy biology and have gotten arioles overnight. And he might as well with the way his brain feels like its leaking out of his ears. Its only worsened when Daniel goes, “Think you can cum just from this Maxie?”

Daniel thumbs his nipples until they’re halfway to chaffed, whispering sweet praise on how perfect Max is, how good he’s being for him, how much Daniel loves the way Max’s team polos stretch a little too tight across his chest nowadays and how much he loves the image of Max prancing around in his fireproofs “tits bouncing” from across the paddock. In the end its Daniel taking one of his rubbed raw nipples and biting down hard that has him yelping and coming in his boxer briefs. Daniel’s there in an instant, kissing away tears Max didn’t realise he was crying and murmuring endless praise in his ears.

He’s still coming down from his haze when he feels Daniel shift an arm between them to fist his own cock, frantic strokes Max halts in an instant with a hand tugging at Daniel’s upper arm. Daniel flexes the muscle there like he has to overcome a reflex compelling him to bat Max’s hand away and makes questioning eyes at him.

“Here Daniel, on my chest with my tits you can” Max pushes his pecs together in demonstration. Daniel’s mouth actually hangs for a second, “You-- you want me to fuck your tits sweetheart? Is that what you want?” Max bobs his head up and down the best he can from where he’s straining his neck to look up at Daniel.

Daniel presses his dick into the little channel Max’s made for him between his tits and makes a noise like he’s been wounded. He anchors a palm onto the mattress next to Max’s head and thrusts in sloppy strokes. “You’re so perfect for me Maxie. So perfect and pretty and tight even here” Daniel pants and thrusts and thrusts and cums in pearly ropes all over Max’s neck, the final spurts dragged out of Daniel leaving tracks on his chest.

Max’s dick jumps at the compliment like he didn’t just cum hard enough to have his mind blown to bits only a handful of minutes ago. Daniel seems to feel it too almost telepathically, because he scoots back on Max’s torso and makes himself snug on his thighs. Peeling Max’s underwear off where his cock is half chubbed again and lying in a mess of his own jizz.

“Being all tight and perfect for me gets you off this good baby?” There’s a teasing little glint in Daniel’s eyes, like he’s taunting Max for liking this a little too much, like Max won’t always like everything ever so long as its with Daniel, like the same isn’t true for Daniel, like they aren’t both intimately aware of this information. Like Max is eighteen again and can’t take his eyes off of Daniel through every pr challenge side quest Redbull’s stupid marketing department kept sending them to, and like he’s twenty one again and jizzed in his skintight jeans from the first time he’s made out with Daniel, tipsy and loose lipped with a heart cracked open at his going away party.

Daniel moves to wrap a hand around his dick but seemingly thinks better in the last second, he’s belly flopped into the space between Max’s splayed open legs on the bed and the scorching wet heat of his mouth is enveloping him the next thing Max knows. Daniel sinks down on the entire length of him in one practised motion. Relaxing his throat and breathing in through his nose before he starts rhythmically fucking himself on Max’s cockhead. Max sneaks a hand into Daniel’s curls just to rest it there, as the oversensitive flush of it has his balls drawing up and then he’s coming down Daniel’s throat unannounced. Daniel slurps every last drop of him without complaint and pecks the inside of his thigh looking utterly sated himself.

When Max drags him up the bed hooking hands under his armpits afterwards, because he fully well knows Daniel’s not far from passing out with his nose half up Max’s ass, Daniel wraps his limbs around Max all koala-like and whispers into his ear. “Sugartits, that’s the internet’s new favourite nickname for you Maxie”

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[blackbatofel]

What are Clark & Bruce's love languages for each other?

I think Bruce's would be acts of service and gifts. He's a fixer, and he'll jump at any opportunity to help others, specially those he loves. Thing is, he's also a bit controlling (understatement of the century), so he'll most likely do these acts of service without asking first (same with the gifts), and I can imagine that, at least in the beginning, it'll bother Clark. But he'll eventually get that that's how Bruce shows he loves him, and he'll make a point to ask him to not intervene whenever he deems necessary.

I can also imagine a situation where Clark tells him he doesn't like expensive gifts, so Bruce's solution is to make his gifts more personalized and meaningful. Bruce would give Clark the most earth-shattering sweet gift, like something he made with his own hands and worked on for months, and he would just shrug and say "it's nothing, I just thought you would like it" while Clark is on the verge of tears.

Clark's love languages would be words of affirmation and quality time. It's canon that he doesn't shy away from telling it to Bruce how it is (more often than not, that means calling him on his bullshit), and I don't think it would be any different when it comes to telling him directly how much he cares for him and showing his affection with words. Of course, Bruce would short-circuit for a second, but he'll get used to it. I also like to think that Clark would try to make time to be with Bruce as often as he could. He would visit him at the cave and accompany him while he works, or drop by during patrol just to say hi.

[youmakemyhearthowl]

The first time Steve went with Robin to a gay bar in Indy, he got a lot of education on the queer community from a group of Drag Queens. They were so pleased to run into a straight man at a gay bar that was there to protect his lesbian best friend that they answered all of his questions he’d asked. Even if a few of them were pretty convinced Steve was some sort of queer and just hadn’t gotten around to figuring it out yet. 

The biggest thing that seemed to stand out to Steve was the hanky code. It was such a cool way to let yourself share this super secret part of yourself with the world without the dangers that actually sharing it would cause and Steve was enamored. 

One particular Drag Queen, Helen, knows most of what the different colors mean and Steve can’t stop himself from asking about every single one of them.

When they get back to Hawkins Steve feels truly educated and Robin just smirks knowingly at him as he rambles on about everything he learned. He’d told Robin a few weeks ago he thought he might also like guys but was still figuring everything out. Robin was just happy he was willing to learn, even if he decided men weren’t for him. 

Everything sort of spirals quickly after that. 

Steve and Robin are at work when Dustin comes barreling into the store with Eddie Munson in tow. 

“We need Rocky Horror Picture show right now.” The demand is sharp, and Steve just rolls his eyes at the teen.

“Not that I’m judging or anything Dust, but what do -you- need with that movie?” Robins voice cuts across the store from where she’s restocking returns in the romance section. 

“We have a theory about Mike we want to test.”

“You have a theory about Mike you want to test.” Eddie cuts in hoping up onto the counter and crossing one leg under him. Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a second. Because right there in his left pocket is that stupid black hanky that Steve never really paid attention to before, but now his eyes lock on.

“Steve!” Robins next to him now shoving him out of the way of the register so she can check out Dustin, and Steve’s still just kind of frozen in place because, Munson’s into some kinky shit and he’s not entirely sure how to bring his brain back from the rabbit hole it’s just dove down.

“Stevie, are you still coming over for movie night with me and Buck?” Eddie chirped climbing down off the table to follow Dustin out the door. Robin looked from Eddie to Steve, trying to figure out what exactly broke her best friend, when her eyes land on the hanky and she has to hide her laugh with a cough.

“Yea, he’s coming. He’s my ride anyways. We’ll see you at 8 Eddie.” With a nod and a questioning glance in Steve’s direction Eddie throws open the front doors and skips to his van as Dustin clamors into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dingus.” Robin slides in front of Steve, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. “Learn anything new just now?”

“Holy shit Robin, how am I ever even supposed to -look- at him again.” He groans throwing his head down onto his crossed arms on the counter.

“He’s still stupid Eddie.”

“Stupid Eddie who likes to tie people up and administer pain in the bed room. Fuck.” Robin could see all kinds of gears turning in Steve’s head. Dots connecting, pieces falling into place until suddenly his face turns bright red and he stands up straight again locking fearful eyes with Robin.

“Oh my god Robin. I think I wanna fuck Eddie Munson.”

Robins laughter was so loud, Eddie could hear it all the way in the parking lot.

(inspired by @undeaddisillusion ‘s post found here)

[redrobin-detective]

ill be honest the first time i read The Long Way Around (which must have been in 2018 !) and for a while after i simply was not aware it was a series, even after i started following you? when you posted rise up i remember being very surprised and excited "oh there's MORE?" so i really have zero expectations lol

i absolutely adore it and it's a very wonderful series, thank you (and i am also very glad you are a fan of other things i am a fan of, so i can just hop fandoms and continue enjoying your fic)

Ahhhh you're gonna make me scream because I also am in love with your stories. I've adored them for years and now have been greedily reacquainting myself with all the excellent BNHA stories I've loved over the years. Your 30 minute fics still haunt me and are Astounding.

When I first wrote TLWA, the seeds of the hypothetical future were there but didn't really cement until I finished the story. Once done, I came up with what eventually became Rise Up and the finale story. I've had that finale story outlined down to the detail for years. It's always bothered me, having that ending live only in my head, to be incomplete. That coupled with a bit of a falling out with BNHA made it hard to get momentum going. I decided a few weeks ago to really make an honest effort at wrapping things up.

I decided to bridge the gap, to dip my feet back into the world, by writing a sort of set-up/in between piece that addresses things I've wanted to talk about but never had the space to. It's actually going well! I'm finally starting to get into the groove and have about 7000 words so far. My optimistic prediction is Feb/March but oh the more I write this fic the more I'm raring to go the finale fic. With it all plotted, I hope that comes out fairly quickly like TLWA/RU did.

This whole verse is still very important to me, Rise up remains one of my favorite fics I've written and I get teary eyed every time I reread it. I'm so genuinely excited to move forward with this, its like coming full circle even if I took the long way around.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[soft-pine]

i’ve whispered and walked on eggshells just to choose misery over dispute

some blueberry pie life: chapter 23

hi! i've gotten a few new followers since i last posted a chap of this so i wanted to do a quick re-intro post as well as a chapter update. this fic is my magnum opus, my precious baby. basically it's like a million one-shots that touch on themes from canon-time spn and how they tie into pre-canon and eventually post canon. it's pretty heavy and the beginning is much more of a dean character study than DeanCas per say but we are heading there.

title from Misery Over Dispute by Waxahatchee

notes below!

August, 2002

Sam leaving is mentioned throughout season 1 but this specific convo is a reference to the conversation between Sam and John in 1.20

The house that they were staying in when Sam left for Stanford is shown in 5.16

The reference to Sam begging to come hunting is from 11.08

Dean dropping out of high school and therefore needing to get a GED is a reference to 5.01 and 5.13

The chick-flick comment is a reference to 1.01 and 11.23.

May, 2013

Takes place during and right after 9.03

The reference to Cas falling asleep in the car before was from 5.22

May, 1993

John sending Dean away when he really pissed him off is something Dean talks about in 14.12

[overly-verbose]

I'm just thinking that Uraume is a great cook, but the real masterpieces are made up of people. I understand that Sukuna will be a little uncomfortable eating people's kebabs (that usually scares teenagers, you know). BUT. The moral mobility of His Evil Majesty's mentality simply says to me: Find the enemy, and the big guy will finally get a nice meal. He worked so hard, he deserves dinner. ("Fu_k, Marry, Eat" game. Start). SO. ONE DAY. People tempura — yes or no? How much Curse is in our King?

Uraume is indeed a great cook, ridiculously even lol

- I mean afaik it's canon that, whilst human meat is supposedly difficult to prepare well, they managed to do it; which is one of the main reasons why Sukuna kept them around aside from the fact that they're a powerful sorcerer lol

(he most probably liked the unaltered taste by itself too (he did in my Series Canon for sure), but Uraume made it additionally enjoyable - so for Mr. I Do What I Want it was definitely a unique plus lol)

As for SIkuna eating people, hmm

Although he's pretty deeply in denial about it, he doesn't actually directly feel anything negative at the prospect

(as showed in Part 4, he actually found the little taste of Yuji's blood he got by accident ridiculously enjoyable, if in terms of Identity Issues and 'Ah Shit That's The Kid's Blood' extremely distressing as well. What a fun combination)

- it's Everything Else around it that makes him uneasy; like the fact that he Knows It's Wrong, The Kids Would Most Freaking Likely Not Like it, and just overall the Character Dissonance he feels about it all

because how the fuck can he be a protective inner marshmallow that would just like to hug the kids, and give them headpats, and heal their wounds, and just overall take care of them as best as he can 🥺

and someone that gets absolutely freaking giddy at the idea and acts of violence and bloodshed (as long as it doesn't involve Some People but especially if it involves Other Ones) at the same time y'know?

(sorry bro, you're not gonna get any less contradictory anytime soon if ever - have fun being yourself, whatever that means, lol

Complex characterisation and all that ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

But returning to the topic; I won't say anything about further down the timeline

(he might, he might not, who knows, probably not in a way that would upset the kids too much if anything but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

but there is this one particular, hm, person that would fit all boxes in terms of being a mostly guiltless but still tasty snack, though not as tasty as possible, who miight be meeting him relatively soon (how??)

- and SIkuna wouldn't even need to break any promises with Yuji (oop spoiler 👀) to indeed have a spooky snack!

So, before anything as sophisticated as tempura - there may be moreso sashimi :] *HeeHee HoHo's a bit as lighting strikes in the background and I comically jump in surprise because wtf the sky's clear-????*

.

[starlooove]

“Fandom isn’t fun anymore fandom isn’t fun anymore” tbh it just feels like white racist “normies” jumped in as opposed to white racist nerds and for me personally u can feeeel it kinda but it doesn’t change much

[socialbunny]

But I'm only half as wrong as you