Whenever someone sends an ask to you about a fic they can't remember I get the weirdest image of you behind the counter at a bar, looking exactly like Urahara Icon⢠ofc. A young and weary traveller walks in, passing by the other resting patrons, and takes a breath. This bar is old and creeking with memories. They have heard references of this place from their many wanderings. They scribble a note and pass it to across the counter, unsigned. You pause your work to give it a glance and shrug.
âSorry, but Iâve never heard of an arranged marriage time travel KHR and TW crossover fic like this.â The young traveller is momentarily crushed and their shoulders sag. Sympathy moves you to call out into the crowded bar: 'Anyone come across it?â Some patrons, travellers themselves, listening in, stroke their chin. Some comment ('might have seen something like it on my last Ao3 visitâ) but no concrete answer is forthcoming. In the end the note is pinned on a wall, next to dozens of others.
The young traveller comes by every day, twice a day if they can manage. Still nothing. Patrons come and go in the bar like the tide and none wash up to shore with an answer. Until one day, a true veteran appears. They have been on distant travels exploring a new fandom but civil war had struck that area. Discourse is strife. They had fought the fight but now was the time to rest. They sit, browse through what the bar has to offer. The ask, now a week old, catches their eye and they still.
Yes, they know this fic. They leave and do a quick search on Ao3. And there it is, written and abandoned more than six years ago. They smile in fond memory of the banter in the fic. They dust it off and carefully note down the name (quaint song lyrics in all lowercase) and the author on a scrap of paper. Then they return and walk up to you behind the counter and ring the notification bell. You pause in your work and look up. 'That KHR/TW ask,â they say. The paper is slid over. 'Here it is.â
The young traveller is ecstatic! Another note is taped underneath their own when they arrive later that night! It has all the details plus an ending advice to 'bring tissues, itâs an abandoned WIP.â They rush over to the counter and gush their thanks to you and their mysterious benefactor. Then theyâre off, ready to spend a night in delightful misery, indulging in their reunited fic. You tip your striped hat, another good deed done, and go back to work. There are other patrons to feed fics to.
Essentially? Your blog reminds me of an information hub of a watering hole and my brain ran with the image of you as a broker behind the counter. Somewhere along the way it manifested into a weird meta story.
Lolol does this mean I read waay too many fanfiction? But I can live with this imagery XD Also more than one person has told me they think of Urahara when they think of me, which amuses me =D But Iâm glad I can help sometimes when ppl ask me for a fic find ^_^