#i'll add the fic link later

[villruu]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Eret's castle in the wind

Eret sighs, pausing and leaning on her cane heavily as she takes a breath.

Across her, a sprawling valley extends as far as her frail eyes can see in the full light of the sun. The terrain is deeply uneven, sharp depressions dotting the valley, half covered in thick bushes that try to keep hidden the treacherous holes. With a huff, she continues her walk, carefully following the small creek nestled into what once was paths of wooden planks and cobblestone.

It has been ages since then, she hasn't bothered to keep track in a long long time, and yet, muscle memory guides her easily through the deceiving terrain. More than once her hair gets caught on the thick branches of nearby trees, forced as she is to sometimes almost crawl to continue, but she has come from too far to let herself just be stopped by mere plants.

At last, she arrives to her destination.

Eret stares at the decayed remains in front of her. From the tall castle she had built only mere fragments are left, crumbling stone bricks marking the place where she once lived. The front arch is barely a wall, one column left of what once was a strong wall, more moss and vines than rock.

She steps inside slowly, taking her time to stare at what once was her home. The wood has all but rotten away by now, sunken into the dirt to be reclaimed by nature once more. The colorful stained glass is all but gone, what wasn't destroyed that fateful day now eroded away by time.

She walks through the ruins without hesitation, despite the ominous creaking the remains of the building give as the wind that runs across the meadow slams against the fragile walls. Her personal garden has overtaken the entire inside, the small and carefully trimmed tree now a titan, its trunk so wide it would take a minimum five players to even begin to wrap their arms around it. The crown of the tree covers what little of the sky can be seen, a new roof for the destroyed remains.

Despite it being more pieces of rocks than an actual building, Eret is still acutely aware of what was each part. She can easily identify the long corridors she built, despite being half a wall by now, she can spot the benches she lovingly built, now mounds of dirt covered in thick grass and bushes. She can even identify what is left of her flag, the threads long dissolved by time but still a identifiable indent in the tall grass.

She doesn't know why she yearned so much to come back here, to ruins that were best left alone to be completely wiped out by nature, but she can't help but be grateful she did make the journey in the end. There's something inside of Eret that settles upon watching what is left of her time here, an old wound finally soothed.

Her cane clicks loudly as she walks through the littered dirt, the broken stone bricks turned into gravel by now that crunches under her shoes. For half a second she wishes she had thought to bring someone else with her, but she quickly shakes the idea away. Anybody who could have understood what this place meant to her has either long been gone or she has long since lost contact with. And despite how much she can… appreciate her new companions, they wouldn't have understood the severity of this place, the weight it had on her mind.

This was once a bastion, a castle, a proud building made by too arrogant hands. What more fitting end for it, than to be gently washed away by time?

With tired legs, she soon arrives at what once was her throne room. Little remains from it, same as the rest of this place, but a small part has managed to endure. Most of the gold is gone, but a small mound of redstone is left, the block barely larger than a slab, surrounded by crumblings brick stones and netherrack.

She sits down upon it, wincing at the ache on her knees, bones loudly protesting the movement, deciding to take a small break before leaving. The throne room looks bare, even to her failing eyes, no traces of opulent wood or carved gold left, the floor now entirely dirt, overgrown weeds as tall as a sheep covering every tiny space left.

The wind picks up, its howl slowly increasing in tempo, as the storm in the horizon looms ever closer to her. She pulls her jacket tighter around her, rubbing her hands to try and catch some warmth. The long shadows inside the ruins make the temperature fall lower than out in the meadow, below the blazing sun that still hasn't been covered in its entirety by the approaching rainstorm.

Taking one last deep breath, she quietly pats the mound she is sitting on top off and slowly gets up. Eret knows this is the first and last time she will ever come back here, so she takes her time in leaving, making her best to memorize this relic of the past. As she finally gets out, she stops to watch a new corner of the tower fall to the ground, rocks crashing and breaking into a million shards as it shatters, pushed by the strong gale.

Taking one last look, she turns her back and starts the walk back. She has lingered enough, and for as much of an immortal she is, she isn't still yet immune to the dangers of radiation. Best she takes her leave before she gets sick with the remaining radiation that still clings to this land. Her castle, despite being so far away from the ground zero of the explosion, was still affected enough that, to this day, it is still a land that no mortal should cross if they didn't wish to die a slow and painful death from the poisonous air.

Eret has seen enough, or at least, all that she cared to see.

There's nothing left here for her.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Roll The Highlights

{ Warnings: Major Character Death: both Steve and Eddie die. But... death is not the end in this fic. There's an afterlife. Major angst with a happy ending. I promise it ends well my dears you can trust me. But bring some tissues. 🧡}

Ao3

Eddie lives.

For awhile.

Eddie lives for three years, seven months, 2 weeks, and four and a half days, to be exact.

Steve counted. After. After Eddie was gone. After the boy he was in love with faded, his grip on Steve's hand slipping, his eyes fluttering closed for the last time.

And they'd had time. Three years and seven months wasn't nothing. Not to them. But it wasn't enough. Steve watched Eddie die. A second time. Safe in a hospital bed this time, surrounded by the people he loved, and who loved him.

And it wasn't enough.

~°~

Steve had gotten his head out of his ass quickly after they'd killed Vecna. Robin encouraged him, two weeks after Eddie got home from the hospital, she gave him this look, and it was all he needed.

He'd gone to Eddie's that night, knocked on the door, smiling brightly when Eddie answered, standing awkwardly with his crutch under his arm.

"Hey Steve-o! What's a girl like you doin in this parta town so late at night?" He'd teased, leaning on the door and almost falling over. Steve had stepped forward quickly, huffing a laugh as he stopped Eddie from falling, his hands on his shoulders.

"Oh ya know. I was in the neighborhood." Steve shrugged, his hands lingering on Eddie's shoulders a little longer than necessary before he slid them off and shoved them into his pockets.

"Mm hmm. A likely story." Eddie nodded, but he was grinning, and already hobbling backwards so Steve could step past him into his and Wayne's shiny new, government issued, trailer. Steve stepped past him and then stood in the living room, his hands still in his pockets, his hands were sweating. He looked down the hall as Eddie closed the door and made his way slowly toward the couch.

"Just you tonight?" Steve asked, rocking onto the balls of his feet and then back onto his heels. Eddie stops, looks at Steve, narrows his eyes. But he smiles, nods, leans his crutch against the wall and balances on his good leg, one hand on his hip as he looks at Steve.

"Yup. Just little ol me. That okay?" He's still smiling, but it looks nervous now, like he's worried Steve will say no and leave.

Steve nods. His eyes dropping to Eddie’s leg when he sees his knee shake. He moves forward, his hands reaching out.

"Sit down would ya? You're making me nervous standing on one leg like that." Steve huffs. Eddie laughs, bats Steve's out stretched hands away playfully. Steve sighs when he finally sits, settles on the couch and stares up at Steve.

"Hey." His voice is soft now. Steve blinks, looks down at him, crosses his arms over his stomach.

"What's on your mind? You seem... different. You okay?" Eddie asks, his hands moving over his knees as he looks up at Steve, concerned. Steve furrows his brow, groans, and lets himself fall onto the couch next to Eddie. He rests his head against the back of the couch for a moment, groans again and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, heels of his hands digging into his eyes as he covers his face.

He feels Eddie's hand move over his back, soothing circles that put him at ease. He turns, peeks through his fingers at Eddie, it makes him smile, his fingers tap against Steve's shoulder blade.

"Seriously. Are you alright?" Eddie asks, his hand resting, still and warm, against Steve's back. Steve swallows, steels himself, and drops his hands.

"Can I ask you a really inappropriate and personal question?" He grimaces as he says it. But Eddie just smiles, moves his hand from Steve's back so he can rearrange himself on the couch, turning more toward Steve.

"Umm yeah. You've come to the inappropriate questions hotline." Eddie says, scoffs, almost. Steve snorts, shakes his head.

"I dunno, this one's... kinda big." His brows are furrowed, his stomach twisting in knots. They untanlge a bit when Eddie sobers, leans a little closer.

"Okay. You can ask." He nods, once, and waits. Steve takes a deep breath, praying that Eddie doesn't hit him, or freak out, or tell him to leave or anything. Steve nods.

"Do you-" his throat freezes, he clears it, licks his lips, tries again.

"Do you like boys Eddie?" He keeps eyes on Eddie when he says this, wants him to know he's not accusing, or making fun, but really, truly, asking.

Eddie's entire body tenses, his fingers curl into his sweatpants. His hand clenched so tight his knuckles go white. Steve moves his hand over Eddie's, slowly, wills him to relax, sooths his thumb over Eddie's. Keeps his eyes on Eddie's face, his own eyes widening, encouraging, letting Eddie know it's okay.

Eddie relaxes as Steve's hand stays on his, his thumb still soothing. And, eventually, he nods. Once. Steve nods back, gives Eddie's hand a squeeze and smiles, nervously.

"Right. Well would you- I mean do you- maybe- like me?" Steve grimaces again, and has to look away, drops his eyes to his lap. And then hears Eddie laugh. It's a loud, bark of a thing. It rings in Steve's ears as his eyes snap to Eddie, who's eyes are wide, his hand slapped over his mouth. Steve feels his throat start to burn, knows that means tears are coming. So he shakes his head and stands.

"No yeah, that's what I figured. But I had to ask. Just forget it man. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." The words leave Steve's mouth in a rush as he makes his way to the door.

"Steve no! That's not what- ah shit!" Eddie calls after him and then Steve hears a thump as he hits the floor.

"Fuck!" Eddie growls as Steve turns, he watches Eddie kick the coffee table with his good foot and then watches him struggle to stand. He's on his knees next to Eddie in a second.

"Sorry. Are you okay?" Steve bites his lip. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs once he's settled back on the couch. Steve tries to stand again but Eddie grabs his arms and tugs him back down, forcing him to sit on the couch in front of him.

"Stop apologizing. And stop trying to run away when I can't fucking chase you dude." Eddie shakes his head, huffs again, doesn't let go of Steve, his fingers curled into the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt now. Steve won't look at him, can't.

"I didn't mean to laugh. Hey look at me." Eddie says, moves one hand to the side of Steve's face and guilds his eyes to him. Steve almost melts when his eyes meet Eddie's, he's looking at Steve with such care.

"It's just- I'm not sure there's any other reaction when the guy you've been crushing on since like... fucking fifth grade asks if you could maybe like him." Eddie shakes his head, disbelief and slight hysteria flashing across his face. He laughs again, through a toothy grin, and Steve can't help but smile.

"I mean, I wasn't laughing at you. I would never do that. But I mean c'mon! You? And me?" His eyes are wide, that manic energy vibrating out of him. But then he gets serious, sudden, and it's a bit jarring, he presses closer.

"Did you mean it?" He asks, his thumb moves over Steve's cheek. Steve swallows, leans into the touch.

"Yeah I meant it. Did you mean all that stuff you said?" Steve's brow furrows, his hands moves up to cover Eddie's on his cheek. Confusion flashes across his face.

"The stuff... I said..." Eddie draws, slowly. Steve snorts.

"About having a crush on me. Since..." Steve moves his hand down, slowly, over Eddie's arm.

"Fifth grade was it?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie and gets a groan in return. Steve the one laughing now as Eddie pulls away, curls in on himself, covering his head with his arms.

"Oh god I said that outloud!?" Eddie whines, swatting at Steve as he tries to pry his arms away from his head.

"You absolutely did." Steve laughs as he frees Eddie's head and wrestles his knees away from his chest, as gently as he can.

They end up tangled together awkwardly, Eddie half pulled onto Steve's lap, his back to Steve's chest, Steve pinning his arms to his sides with his own wrapped around Eddie's chest. Both of them are panting, laughs breaking through off and on as they catch their breath. Steve's thumb soothes the warm skin on Eddie's arm as he holds him.

Eddie settles down further, almost laying across Steve's lap, he smiles up at him as Steve looks down at him.

"You really like me? Like... you wanna kiss me and stuff?" Eddie crinkles his nose. Steve laughs, lets his head fall back with it, and then grins down at Eddie, moves his fingers gently over the bright red scar on Eddie's face.

"Yeah. I wanna kiss you... and stuff." He makes his eyebrows bounce as he says it, and Eddie cackles, his eyes wrinkling as he laughs. Eddie sits up then, carefully, and turns to Steve.

"You'll be the first." Eddie says, serious again. These ups and downs of his just pull Steve further into him, he finds the way Eddie goes from ridiculous to serious at the drop of a hat, intoxicating. He tilts his head.

"The first." He repeats, slowly. Eddie flushes, nods, and licks his lips, his fingers picking at the seam of the couch.

"Wait you've never-"

"Nope. Not once. With anyone." Eddie shakes his head.

"Is that- I mean is that okay?" Eddie voice is small. Steve scoots closer, curls his hand around Eddie's calf.

"Of course it's okay. We can take it slow. I don't wanna pressure you or anything. I just... I just wanna be with you. However you'll have me." Steve shrugs, almost melts under the look Eddie gives him. And then his heart flutters when Eddie smirks at him and presses close, his mouth next to Steve's ear, his breath hot again his skin.

"Oh I'll have you all sorts of ways Steven." He whispers, and then he's on top of Steve, cackling into his neck as Steve holds him close, their chests fluttering together as they both laugh.

Wayne finds them that way when he gets home from work, tangled together on the couch, asleep. He smiles down at them, tugs the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them. He moves his hand over Eddie's hair, kisses his head, and goes to bed himself, smiling into the dark. Because his boy finally has someone to hold at night.

~°~

And things are good.

For three years, things are good. They are good. Good for each other. And good together.

And then, one night, Eddie walks back into their bedroom, Steve having moved into the trailer almost a week after they got together, his eyes glazed, hands shaking. Steve stares at him, his stomach dropping at the sight, but he can't move. And then Eddie look at him, blinks a few times, rapidly.

"Steve. I don't feel so good." He says, his voice tight, before his eyes flutter and he falls to the floor.

Steve yells for Wayne, they call an ambulance, but it's too late. What Eddie has, no hospital could ever make sense of.

So they end up back in a lab, Owens is there, and he does his best. He runs every test they have to run. But it doesn't matter. Turns out, once the upside down is inside you, once it's torn you to pieces and ripped into you, there's no way to get it out.

So Eddie fades, day by day, and then the pain hits him.

Steve wakes up in the middle of the night to Eddie's screams. They're ripping their way out of his throat as he thrashes on the bed, clawing at the sheets, at his skin, screaming for Steve make it stop. He screams for Steve to kill him once, right before the nurses gives him the sedative and he sinks into silence.

But Steve's skin is crawling, itching, his heart pounding in his ears alongside the echo of Eddie's words.

"Kill me Steve! Please! Make it stop!" The words float through his head, slam into his chest. He runs to the bathroom and pukes,  twice. Robin is there when he opens his eyes. Tears in her own eyes at she strokes his hair, pushes it away from his forhead before pulling him to her chest.

"I can't do this Rob. What do I do?" He whines as he clings to her. She sooths her hand over his hair.

"You can. Hey." She pulls him up, hold his face, cradles it really.

"You can. You have to be here for him. And I'll be here for you. Always." She says, and Steve knows she means after. But there's a look in her eyes, deeper than what she's said. And Steve knows it's because of what they haven't talked about. The fact that those bats had ripped into Steve too. Just like they had Eddie. They know this, as they sit in the bathroom, curled up on the floor like all those years ago. Robin promising to stay with him. Until the end.

Owens keeps Eddie comfortable, keeps his pain levels down so he can rest, and be comfortable, and talk to people a little. As much as he can.

It happens at midnight. Eddie's fingers grip Steve's hand, waking him, and he startles awake to find Eddie staring at him, eyes wide.

"I think- I think I gotta go darlin." Eddie says, his voice raspy as he blinks at Steve. Steve shakes his head, climbs onto the side of the bed. He's vaguely aware of Wayne stiring in his chair and moving closer, to hold Eddie's other hand. Eddie smiles at him, but looks back to Steve and nods.

"It's time sweetheart." He coughs a laugh when Steve shakes his head again, hard, and then cups Eddie's cheeks and leans forward, resting his head against Eddie's.

"Please don't leave me. Don't go." Steve sobs. Eddie sniffles.

"I'd give anything to stay with you. But-" he cuts off, his chest rattling as he coughs, wet and deep. Steve stays close, doesn't care about the cough, he's already got whatever it is. Has felt it inside him the last few days, felt it growing and curling around his lungs.

"I love you baby. And hey," Eddie pauses, his voice is so soft now, he's fading fast. Steve pulls back to look at him.

"What?" He ask, his fingers tracing over Eddie's lips, his fingers come away red. He blinks his tears away. Eddie reaches up, cups Steve's cheek.

"I'll save you a good seat. I'll love you forever...Steve." he breathes Steve's name, quiet, and soft, and then he's gone. His last words half nonsense half declaration of love, and so so Eddie.

Steve sobs into his chest for nearly an hour before Wayne pulls him away. Let's them take Eddie. Steve struggles in his arms, screams for them to leave him alone. One of the nurses suggests sedating him, and though he's still struggling, he hears Jim Hopper tell them to fucking try it, in the most threatening tone he's ever heard from the man.

And then Joyce is there, pulling Steve close, and all the fight in him vanishes. He lets her hold him as he cries, feels Robin come up behind him and join the hug. He's eventually turned over to her completely. Joined by a sobbing Dustin soon after.

He and Steve sit on the floor for hours, crying and talking about Eddie. Max and Lucas join them. All of them wet with tears.

And when Owens comes in, tells them they can all go home if they'd like, he'd arranged cars for them. Steve stands, looks at Owens for a long moment and shakes his head.

"No point in going home. I'll just be back here anyway." Steve sighs. Robin hides her sob in her hand. Owens looks at Steve.

"How long?" Is all he says.

"About a week." Steve tells him. Owens nods.

"I'll get a room ready." He says, and Steve shakes his head.

"I want this one. I want Eddie's." He says, throat tight again. Owens nods, and leaves them too it.

The room gets cleaned. And Steve gets settled.

They cremate Eddie. Wayne brings the urn to Steve's room and camps out again. Steve tells him he can go, that he doesn't have to stay and watch this again. Wayne leans in real close, squeezes Steve's shoulder, hard.

"He was my boy. And he loved you. And you were his. Which makes you my boy too. You understand me?" His face is somber. Steve sobs, once, and Wayne pulls him to his chest, holds him tightly the way his own parents never had, and Steve knows he means it, he's Wayne's son now just like Eddie was. He clings to Wayne until he eventually falls asleep.

~°~

He expected the pain. Eddie's screams never really fading for Steve, they haunted him. But he still wasn't prepared, not for this, the burning.

His skin was on fire.

And the pain ran deep. His nerve endings trembling as pain shot through his body like lightning. He screams, and screams, and waits for it all to end. He calls out to Robin, but doesn't say what he wants to. Because he understands now, why Eddie begged for him to kill him, anything would be better than this.

They have the pain meds ready faster this time. Sedating him quickly. His skin burns and then the world fades to black.

~°~

He's holding Robin's hand. And Dustin’s. Both of them sobbing as he blinks at them. And he has so much he wants to say, remembers Eddie talking to him at the end, but his throat is so dry. And his chest is so full, he feels like he's drowning. He squeezes Robin's hand, tight.

"I'm here Dingus. I'm here. I love you." She says, easy. And he smiles, nods at her, of course she knows what he's trying to say. He lets his head fall to the side, looks at Dustin. He's crying, but he's trying to smile, to be brave. Steve coughs, determined to find his voice, for Dustin.

"You-" he coughs again.

"It's okay. You don't have too." Dustin whines. Steve shakes his head, weakly.

"You're the best little brother anyone could have. Ya know?" Steve's throat strains, Dustin pulls his hand to his mouth and kisses his fingers, crying hard again.

"I love you." Steve whispers, smiles at Dustin.

"I love you too." Dustin sobs, cradles Steve's hand to his chest. Steve nods, satisfied, and looks back to Robin. She sobbing into her hand, trying to hold herself together.

"Robs." Steve sighs her name, and she presses closer.

"I'm so glad I met you. And that you liked me enough to stick around." She smiles, sobs into her laugh, Steve coughs into his.

"Always and forever. It's me and you." She says, lip trembling. Steve nods.

"Always and forever." Steve breathes, his chest aching, lungs trying to fill with air, but there's no space, or lungs left, Steve's not really sure, but it hurts, deep. His eyes flutter, he feels Robin squeeze his hand, hard.

"Tell Eddie we say hi. And that if he doesn't take care of you I'll be there soon enough to kick his ass." Robin teases, kissing the back of Steve's hand, he coughs another laugh, blinks at her.

"I'll tell him. Love you Robs." He sighs, pain throbbing in his chest as his eyes flutter closed and he falls into darkness.

~°~

Death isn't what he expected. Though he isn't sure what he expected, really.

A tunnel, maybe?

Clouds and light?

Or some skeleton in a robe with a scythe.

But it doesn't look like any of those things.

Death, Steve finds, looks a lot like Eddie Munson.

An Eddie Munson with his hair pulled back into a messy bun. An Eddie Munson in a deep red tux, in a bowtie with little skulls dotting it. An Eddie Munson holding the door for him, the door to what looks like a beautiful old movie theater.

"You're right on time Sunshine. " This Eddie says to him, bowing deeply and waving his hand toward the door. Steve steps forward, his bare feet moving over what still looks like hospital tile until they reach the door, theater carpet trails on after that, into darkness. Steve doesn't see a theater past the door.

"You aren't real." He says, and to his surprise, there's no pain in his chest, he moves his hand to rest there, fingers curling into his hospital gown. The Death Eddie smiles.

"I'm as real as you are babes." He reaches out, pokes Steve's nose, and Steve feels a rush of warmth run through him. His heart isn't beating but he swears he feels it flutter.

"E-eddie?" His lip trembles. The Eddie in front of him tilts his head with a smirk.

"The one an only." He holds his hands out beside him, theatrical as ever. Steve feels one sob leave him and then he dives into Eddie's arms. They wrap around him tightly, and he feels and hears Eddie breathe him in deeply.

"God I fucking missed you." Eddie sighs into his ear.

"I missed you too. So much." He pulls back, wipes at his nose with the back of his hand as he sniffles.

"Dustin and Robin say hi. She also said she'd come in here after us if you don't take care of me." Steve crosses his arms, tries to act smug. Watches Eddie's face fall at the mention of Dustin but kick back up again at Robin's threat.

"Aww. That's cute. She's got nothin to worry about. I've been waiting my whole life to take care of you." Eddie smiles, takes Steve's hand in his.

"Speaking of. You are tragically under dressed." He lifts Steve's hand in the air, raises his free one, snaps his fingers, and Steve finds himself in a deep blue, velvet suit, his bowtie covered in little spiked baseball bats. He flicks it and looks at Eddie. He clicks his tongue and winks at Steve, moves so he's got his back holding the door for them.

"C'mon sweetheart. We're gonna miss the show." He nods toward the theater, tugging Steve through the door with him. The darkness moves and changes around them, a theater blooming were there wasn't one before. Steve laces his fingers with Eddie's, presses into his side.

"What are we seeing?" Steve asks, feeling giddy as Eddie leads them down a few different halls, with red velvet carpets.

"Can't tell you that my love. It'll spoil the surprise." He whispers conspiratorially, but stops as they get to the next door. He untangles himself from Steve and holds it open.

"After you, good sir." He bows again, lets Steve pass by him, and then follows him into the dimly lit room.

It looks like a normal theater, just a room full of seats, waiting to be filled. Eddie comes up behind Steve, wraps his arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder.

"Told you I'd save you a good seat." He says, and before Steve can ask how he even knew that then, he's being tugged to the center of the back row. Once they're seated, sitting hand in hand, Eddie turns to him.

"You ready?" He asks, head tilted.

"I... I guess?" Steve draws, hesitant. Eddie cocks his eyebrow.

"I mean. Yes. I'm ready." Steve says, with conviction. Eddie nods.

"That's my boy." He winks, and then leans back a little, looking up at the window in the back wall.

"Roll the highlights!" He calls, his voice impossibly musical. Steve opens his mouth to question, but the lights click off, and the screen lights up. And Steve's breath is catching as moments from his life begin to fill the screen. He leans closer, elbows on his knees, attention locked on the screen as he watches himself.

The first time his father told him he was proud of him plays out, the mans gentle hands on Steve's shoulders, for what was probably the last time.

His mother, calling him her handsome boy, for the last time. Just before he'd started getting his head knocked around. And before they started being gone most of the time.

Flashing moments of coaches over the years giving him praise. Genuine praise. Because he was so so good at being part of a team. And they saw that in him, and encouraged it. Right from the start.

Images of him in fifth grade, shoving his hands into some boys chest to get him away from the boy curled up on the ground. The boys looks up at him when he kneels and he gasps, he knows those eyes.

"Did you forget about that? Saving me? When we were kids?" Eddie asks, leaning into Steve's side. Steve nods, holds Eddie's hand tighter and revels in his warmth pressing to his side.

He watches Nancy smack him across the face on the screen, squirms in his seat a bit.

"Kinky Harrington." Eddie says, leaning close again. Steve snorts and shoves him away.

The next few moments all swim together, but there's Dustin, and the kids, all of them running from monsters. Steve standing in front of them for the most part, standing between them and the danger.

He watches himself meet Robin. Watches them goof off when they're bored. Watches her tease him relentlessly for stiking out again and again and again, until he throws his hat at her in frustration.

He watches them sit on the bathroom floor after the russians. Watches her gently tell him that no, she doesn't like him back, but not because he isn't likable, lovable even. It's been she likes girls. And she's scared he'll hate her for it. And of course he doesn't. He sits, and he processes, and then he makes her laugh. Makes her feels safe. Because she's his best friend. Forever and always.

The next one's Robin too, more of them goofing off. At Family video this time. A long moment of them seeing how many tapes Steve can balance on his head passes. Steve's record had been twenty three. Robin's had been four.

The kids fill the screen. Dustin and Erica. Max and Lucas. Mike and Will and El. All of them, in his car, as he ferried them around. Half the time they're screaming at each other, about nothing and everything. Just being kids.

And then the screen is full of Eddie. Eddie with Robin. Eddie with Nancy. Eddie carrying Erica across a creek on his shoulders because she didn't wanna get her shoes wet. He'd almost fallen in and she had shrieked at him that she would drown him if he did. He cackles as he steadies himself and makes it through the water.

Steve sits back in his chair, his face flushing a little as the montage of Eddie continues, moving through everything they'd been through. Eddie sighs next to him, presses close again.

"Think you might have a bit of a thing for me Steve. In case you didn't know." He looks at Steve with a straight face for about a second and a half before he snorts, and then snuggles into Steve's shoulder, his head resting there as they keep watching.

There's flashes of Eddie's smile, all his different ones, the sweet ones, the goofy ones, the ones he saved just for Steve.

And his hands, and his hair, his neck, his clothes, his shoes. Him playing music, his scars, and the way Steve used to move his hands over them gently every night before they went to bed.

And the last thing that plays across the screen is the dnd campaign that Steve had joined. It had been slower, and less involved, because they'd wanted Steve to have fun. And Eddie had fallen half in love with Steve's character the moment he tried to sacrifice himself to save Will's. Eddie had let him live. He'd made it to the end.

And the day after the campaign ended, Eddie asked Steve to marry him. Holding out a cheap little ring he'd won in a machine at the diner. Steve had cried, and said yes. And Hopper illegally married them in Joyce's living room a week later. Dustin’s mom made them a beautiful cake. And Max cried. Steve had watched Eddie pinkie promise her to never tell.

The screen fades to black, Steve's chest feeling full, and light, and wonderful. He wipes the tears from his face and falls back in his seat, turns to look at Eddie. He's already looking at Steve, his head resting on the back of his chair.

"Was it-" Steve's throat catches on tears. He clears it, smiling when Eddie smiles at him.

"Was it like this for you?" He asks, sniffling again, bumping his thigh into Eddie's.

"You mean the theater or was my happy highlights montage full of your face too?" Eddie asks, his eye hooded as he smirks at Steve. Steve shakes his head, waves his hand around at the theater.

"The theater. Or... I don't know both, maybe?" He asks, feeling shy, his cheeks burning. Eddie snorts, leans into Steve's space, kisses the tip of his nose.

"Mine was full of you too. But it wasn't a theater. It was a concert. Or sort of a concert? Maybe more like a play? It was live, that's all I know." He shrugs, smiles at Steve and then hops to his feet. He holds his hand out to Steve, pulls him to his feet as well.

"That makes sense for you." Steve says, wraps his arms around Eddie's waist, pulls him close, kisses him. God he missed kissing him. Eddie hums into the kiss, and then shoves at Steve's shoulders.

"They'll be plenty of time for that later young man." Eddie scolds, holding Steve at arms length. Steve pouts at him. Eddie laughs, presses his thumb into Steve's pouting lip.

"Oh now. None of that. You haven't even seen the best part yet." Eddie whisper, excitedly, bounces in place for a moment before tugging Steve towards a door that most definitely hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Eddie where-"

"Please save all questions and inquiries until the end of the tour." Eddie cuts him off, his voice going into tour guide mode as he smirks over his shoulder at Steve, dragging him to stand in front of the door.

"Whatever you say dear." Steve says, put upon, like always. Eddie looks at him, bites his lip.

"God I missed you." His eyes drop to Steve's lips, and he bites into his own, his body swaying foward, Steve smirks. Eddie plants his hand on Steve chest and points his finger into his face.

"Ah ah ah. No. Nope. Later." He scolds, grabs the door knob, turns it, and yanks it open.

The sunlight that shines through is blinding. Eddie squints, grabs Steve's hands, plants them on his shoulders, and leads them both blindly through the door.

"Don't worry Steve. Your sight will return shortly. The sun is just ridiculous here. I mean some clouds would be-" Eddie cuts off as the sun fades, the sky filling with clouds. They stop, both of them looking up at the now cloudy sky, the blinding sunlight gone. Eddie glances at Steve.

"Didn't know I could do that." He mutters, then smiles brightly at Steve. Steve snorts, shakes his head. Eddie holds his hand out, wiggles his fingers, and his eyebrows, and Steve has no choice but to take his hand, smiling to himself as Eddie drags him through what appears to be a forest. The trees getting thicker and thicker the longer the walk.

"Eddie if you're taking me into the woods to kill me, a little heads up would be nice." Steve huffs, trudging along behind Eddie.

"Oh ha ha. One, if I was gonna kill you, why the hell would I give you a heads up? And two, you're already dead babe." He turns to look at Steve, winks, and just keeps walking.

A few moments later he smacks his hand against a large tree and turns to Steve.

"We're almost there." He stops, turns, slides his hands into his pockets, and suddenly looks... nervous.

"Um. So... this isn't like... a permanent thing. Everything here's pretty changable, as you might have noticed. But um... yeah... it's sort've'a first draft, type thing." He shrugs, his cheeks going red.

"Eddie." Steve moves forward, rests his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve smiles when Eddie barks a laugh.

"Yeah that's- okay okay. Let's just- this way." Eddie nods behind him, and when Steve passes the large tree, a small path appears, it gets wider as they go, the trees parting to reveal a huge clearing. And as Steve's eyes land on the house in the middle of the clearing, his chest flutters again.

They walk a few more feet and then Eddie stops, he rocks back and forth, from foot to foot, next to Steve. The house looks almost like a castle, there are to circular towers on each side, the bricks are a beautiful deep red, and the hedges surrounding it in the clearing all look like animals.

Steve manages to tear his eyes away and look at Eddie. His cheeks are flushed even deeper red than before, his feet kicking at the ground, his hands fumbling together as he spins one of his rings around and around his finger.

"Eddie... did you... make this?" Steve breathes, Eddie's eyes snap to him.

"Um. Yes? If it's too castle-y we can change it, make if more homey. I was just... it was just me so I was just messing around. Ya know, making the house I always used to imagine as a kid." He shrugs, looks back to the ground. He's so dismissive of this beautiful thing he's made, and Steve can't have that.

He moves fast, ducking a little and he wraps his arms around Eddie's middle and lifts him. He spins him three times and then sets him down just so Eddie will stop squawking.

"It's amazing. I wouldn't change it for the world." Steve laughs, holds Eddie's face in his hands. Eddie leans into his touch, kisses the palm of one of Steve's hands and then looks back to the house.

"It's got rooms for everyone. It's much bigger on the inside. Like a T.A.R.D.I.S." Eddie glances at him. Steve shakes his head.

"Doesn't matter. It's bigger on the inside is all. Got rooms for all the kids. Robin. Nancy. Wayne. Hop and Joyce. All of 'em. If they wanna stay with us." Eddie shrugs, Steve bites his lips and watches as Eddie keeps talking.

"I didn't wanna have just a guest room, ya know? I wanted them all to have their own space. And when they get here they can change it into whatever they like. I mean, one of the downstairs bathrooms is jungle themed. I always wanted a fancy outside shower." He laughs, wipes his palms on his pants.

It takes that motion for Steve to realize they're no longer wearing fancy suits. Eddie's in a red cut off flannel and black jeans. He glances down and sees his old Elton John shirt, and his favorite pair of Levis. He smiles, following Eddie as he talks now, walking toward the house, his hands flailing as they approach the beautiful wrought-iron gate out front.

"I have Dustin down the hall from us. Cuz I figured he'd wanna be close. And I put Erica next to him so they can gossip to their little hearts content. And I know it'll be awhile. Hopefully ages. I mean shit. I want them to have amazing lives to tell us about." He smiles, curls his fingers around the gate, Steve smiles too, mirroring him.

"But when they do come. And they make their own spaces. I don't know... I think it could really be something." Eddie sighs, happy, as he looks wistfully at the house he's made while he waited for Steve. Steve moves into his space, curls his arms around Eddie and pulls him close, breathes him in.

"Thank you." He nearly sobs into Eddie's shoulder.

"Whoa. Hey. It's okay. What's wrong?" Eddie sooths, his hands moving over Steve's back. Steve pulls back, just enough that he can see Eddie's face.

"Nothing's wrong. I've never had a real home before. Not like this. Except maybe the trailer, with you and Wayne. But this-" he stops short, not even sure how to describe this feeling. Eddie moves, his fingers curling into the hair at the base of Steve's neck.

"I made it for you. For us." Eddie whispers. Steve nods, tears falling freely, Eddie wipes them away with a smile, all dimples.

"I know. It's perfect." Steve whispers back, closes the short distance between them, kissing his husband deeply. Trying to convey everything he's feeling into this one moment. Eddie hums against his lips, moans a little when Steve yanks him impossibly closer.

And when they finally pull back to breathe, Eddie grabs his hand and leads him through the gate, and up the path to their new home. Steve holds his hand tightly and thanks any and all gods that might be listening, for bringing Eddie Munson into his life.

Not once, and not twice, really. It had been three times now. Maybe four if you counted fifth grade. Steve wanted to count it. It was a part of them. It had made the highlights.

Steve smiles to himself, lets Eddie lift him off his feet into a bridal carry, and kisses him as they cross the threshold of their home, his fingers curled into Eddie's flannel with no intention of letting go.

[phantompages]

I've been reading a lot of MP100 x MHA fics and looking at prompts and I'm absolutely in love with the idea of Quirkless Reigen faking having a quirk, maybe even running his own (not exactly legal) "hero agency" in Seasoning City and getting the most powerful sidekicks and interns possible despite being relatively unknown as a hero (also not exactly legally one). His "agency" is more focused on just helping people with whatever issues they may have be it spiritual, Quirk-related, or otherwise really.

I just think it would be interesting if maybe, one of the kids he knows (maybe Teru, even) placed really high on the UA Sports Festival and ended up dragging along other characters to Spirits and Such because that's where he ends up interning. Others are like, surely the Hero who managed to get Hanazawa to intern at his agency is super powerful and knowledgeable right? Right??

What they end up with is a sweaty man in a cheap suit (is that supposed to be his hero costume??) claiming his Quirk to be so powerful and out of this world he can't use it for most situations lest he destroy the city block or something, who gives them much needed life counseling and lectures and takes them out to help citizens with the most mundane things under the guise of "evil spirits" or "villainous plots".

He has maybe two, three employees there, though they don't have many work hours anymore, they do pop in sometimes and help the interns learn about the job, the paperwork and attitude and helping others. And thus they learn the power of customer service that it isn't big flashy fights or being super popular that makes a hero, its just being a good person and helping others.

[sisterdivinium]

sisterscell is now ready and open! :)

Or, rather, it's open for interested parties to join and be able to read my WN fanfic whenever AO3 goes down for a few moments. I'm not sure that I'll alter the Members Only control any time soon and I am not inclined towards going back and adding warnings to the stuff I forgot to warn for (oops), but it's there after a few days' feverish work and one need only click the join button if one is ever so inclined.

Now I am going to vanish from the internet because we are almost at page 90 of the teenagers AU and our favourite tragic ladies haven't even kissed yet so we absolutely must work to allow them that much!

[taxevasiontactics]

The Godmother's Godchild [2] - This Town Ain't Big Enough for Anyone, Really

Synopsis: The problem with a small town is that you don't really have a lot of options in places to go. You keep rubbing shoulders with Peppino, much to his continued frustration, and end up overextending just the tiniest bit. Damn kids. Damn helpful instinct.

Warning: Description of a Minor Wound

Your prediction ends up coming true the very next morning.

To avoid a repeat of the night before, you go grocery shopping. As you’re driving down the tight, one-lane-in-either-direction road, you note a few things. The town was built before cars were a staple of life. It’s smack in the middle of farmland; even if it’s no corn hell, the miles of emptiness and cow fields take up the majority of your trip’s vistas. There are no big warehouse superstores, no fast-food chains, and no corporate names in sight. The grocer in town (the only one) is a mom-and-pop gig, as is every other storefront in sight. It’s charming in its own way, but you feel like you’ve wandered onto a retro show when you stop inside. Linoleum floors, buzzing lights, an old cash register that goes “ding” as the middle-aged clerk pulls on its lever. Even the people shopping around you know each other. You can feel the looks as you pass. They’re probably gossiping about the newcomer, as nonthreatening as you try to make yourself with nods and smiles.

That’s what makes Peppino stick out like a sore thumb when he appears around an aisle’s corner. You try to say hello, but the moment you turn he bolts out of sight as quickly as he came. He’s surprisingly fast too, going from near standstill to a sprint in the blink of an eye. The same thing happens as you’re perusing produce, then while checking canned fruits. Even the baking aisle is not free of a near encounter with the man. Your entire shopping trip is plagued by near-misses, disappearing the moment you even try to approach.

You finally get a chance to talk when you push your cart behind his at the only checkout lane. Looks like the man’s ditched the tank-top-t-shirt getup for now, swapping it out for zip hoodie and t-shirt instead. He pointedly does not look your way. He has a lot of food in his cart: flour, vegetables, cured meats, and a few herbs. And tomatoes. Lots, and lots, and lots of tomatoes.

“Stocking up for the day?” You ask the open air. Peppino tenses like he was hoping you would ignore him too.

“Yes. Every day, as fresh as it gets…”

You nod. “Where I used to live, every pizza place bragged about using only San Marzano tomatoes. Authentic Italian style, or something.”

He seems to take great amusement at that, scoffing and muttering a string of his own authentic Italian. This apparent blasphemy is enough to knock him out of whatever timorous behavior he’d subconsciously assigned to you.

“They wouldn’t know real Italian food if it came and smacked them in the face. Why would you need canned tomatoes when fresh ones you can make just as good, for less?” He picks up one of the red fruits for emphasis, waggling it in front of you. “You don’t need fancy things, no, you just need to know how to make it right.”

The clerk clears her throat, holding back a smile. “Mr. Spaghetti?”

“Oh, scuzi, sorry…”

He rummages around in his pockets, pulling out a coupon book. They exchange papers and knock down prices for nearly every item in his cart. You get the feeling that this is a practiced dance between them – either because the clerk is used to penny pinchers, or because Peppino makes a habit of being one everywhere he goes.

He waits while she gets through your cart, raising an eyebrow at its contents. You catch it, raising your own eyebrow. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you think. Quick fridge fill-ups, low-effort meals, and snacks.

“What?” Genuinely, you don’t know what he could criticize here.

“Don’t you think you should…” He waves his hands in the air, searching for the words. “Get some things better for you? No one can survive on cereal and- and chips, and whatever other little filler foods those are, no?”

“Questioning my ability to run after a cat on a handful of cereal, are you?” You tease.

Peppino makes a sour face, and you snicker. You decide against playing Misery Olympics and telling him about how you usually eat at work. Based on your past two encounters, he might find something else to yell at with your diet of coffee and granola bars. This is cheating­, for you. The clerk finishes, you pay, and you wheel out with your pantry goods. Peppino follows along, bags in hand.

“You seem to care an awful lot all of the sudden, considering I nearly made you crash and poked fun at your name,” you wryly reason.

“You are doing the exact same thing!” He runs ahead of you, somehow pointing at you in accusation despite the three heavy bags in his offending hand. “I’m just trying to be polite before you decide to turn me into a toad, or whatever it is you people do!”

You sigh, opening up your truck’s door and loading up your groceries. Exasperation runs through you in a moment, despite how outdatedly funny his worry is. A toad? So that’s what last night was about.

“Correction,” you start, “that would be the school of transmutation, an entirely different career path that I didn’t study. I’m from a school that primarily focuses on helping things reach a state they naturally can faster, and with less error.”

You close the door, leaning back against it with your arms folded. The more you’ve ranted, it seems, the more Peppino has shrunk in on himself. A little part of you is satisfied to see his accusations addressed and overturned.

“Even if I did know how to make polymorphic potions,” -He cringes. You continue- “you would have to absorb it somehow for it to have any effect. I promise, cross my heart, that I won’t try to turn you into a toad, an inanimate object, or anything else you might be afraid of.”

The frown on his face grows even more as he continues to grumble, “And why would I have any reason to trust you?”

“You don’t.”

You hop into your truck, catching Peppino’s frown get momentarily wiped off in bewilderment. Pleasant assumption? Unpleasant conclusion? You don’t know, and the ice cream in your groceries is going to melt if you stick around for much longer.

“You either trust me or you don’t. For the record, though?” You give him one big, cheesy grin as you start the engine. “The pizza was really good, and I can’t get any more if I turn you into something weird. Goodbye, Mr. Spaghetti!”

Peppino’s face turns bright red, one finger lifted to inevitably retort, deny, or chew you out. You peel out before you hear whatever else he has to say, riding the high of getting the last word in all the way back.

---

You’ve hit a wall in terms of preparing the property for sale.

Clue 1: the cottage was not cleaning itself.

There are many good things about magic cottages. They’re usually enchanted to take care of themselves, Aunt Marian’s was no different to your expert senses. You were still hit with a lungful of dusty air when you first walked in, yet thought nothing of the thin layer that covered many surfaces.

Clue 2: the cottage did not repair itself.

A few days after the grocer encounter, you tripped over a floorboard. It wasn’t like that before, you don’t remember breaking it in any way while organizing, but you knew for certain that the culprit behind your thrown plate of toast (which you were looking forward to, by the way) was the curiously crooked board. You blamed it on a shifting foundation and ignore it, trusting it to go back in place eventually.

This morning, a mere two days after the tripping incident, you went to get a glass of milk. Where you expected chilly cold fridge air, you found a slightly-cooler-than-room-temp puff of air from within the dark, metal cabinet. Luckily, nothing had spoiled yet, but you aborted your search for milk in favor of not tempting fate by quickly slamming the door shut again.

Clue 3: the cottage no longer provides power to anything inside.

You can only assume that Aunt Marian tied herself to the house. When she passed, the enchantments slowly faded away from lowest to highest priority until it ultimately failed you and your milk. You can’t make a change to the spellwork yourself, nor are you going to assume the future owners will have any idea how to fix it either. With this in mind, you go to the library with sleeves rolled up both metaphorically and physically. You’re stubborn enough to try keeping the cottage as it is, intent on not shelling out goo gobs of money on modern conveniences. You’re set on making your own solution to the problem.

You want to substitute natural magic with alchemy. A constructed power well, with properties you pick. Of course, this means you have to turn to the dreaded art of transmutation to make this work.

Arming yourself with a mind-numbingly dry book from the bottom of an overstuffed shelf and a bottomless bag rescued from the same pile, you walk through the nearby woods in hopes of finding the proper ingredients for your idea. Though the smell of greenery and life around you are refreshing, the mugginess and uneven ground are not. You thank Aunt Marian mentally for her foraging lessons during the hot, humid days of your youth. Then you yell at her for leaving the cottage a fixer upper.

Your mind wanders as you walk and search. Maybe this is some higher power’s way of punishing you for being a flippant idiot with Peppino. You don’t know transmutation, you said. You don’t know how to change the properties of anything, let alone turn a person into a toad! Fine, the higher powers huff to your inverse Arachne self, if you don’t know transmutation you’ll be made to learn it.

Still, you wonder and wander, what’s Peppino’s problem? Sure, you did laugh at his unfortunate name, you inconvenienced him majorly on the road, but you haven’t directly done anything that would be interpreted as hostility. He seems to immensely distrust you on principle. Aunt Marian, as far as you know, wasn’t much of a Beauty-and-the-Beast godmother, doling out curses on the deserving to teach them a lesson. Maybe he’s a staunch mundanist. Maybe he just doesn’t like new people in general. Ha ha, you think, if your godmother was the just-punishment type, he probably would have been a toad a lot sooner had they met.

Your train of thought is upended by a sudden wailing echoing through the trees. You hurriedly stuff your most recently plucked mushroom into the bag, making your way towards the sound.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-“

“Okokok calm down it’s ok-“

“MY LEG HURTS MY LEG HU-U-U-RTS!”

“I told you not to let her go up there!”

“I told her not to go up there!”

“Then why did she?!”

“I don’t know!”

You find a pair of kids underneath a tall tree, arguing over a little girl. She’s clutching a bloodied leg, sobbing as the red drips through her fingers. You can’t see the damage clearly from between her dirtied hands as you walk up, shouting to get their attention. The children stop their bickering when they realize an adult has come out of the literal woodwork. Reactions flipflop from confused relief to bracing for trouble.

“I know I’m a stranger, but I can help.” You introduce yourself right away, adding on for good measure, “I’m a doctor. Can I take a look at her?”

Your credentials do the trick, and the kids immediately blab to you about what happened as you set to work. Marnie (the little girl, you presume) went into the tree to grab a new branch because they lost their old dousing rod in a river when Thomas tossed it right in (the older girl, Aggie, points at the boy of the pair) to try and see how far it would go to save them time on finding a new well.

“I didn’t mean to lose it!” He shouts back. “I thought it would work!”

You don’t have the heart to tell them that dousing rods don’t work anyways. As they continue to tell their tale of how and why Marnie was in the tree, your triage reveals that she’s scraped herself up pretty badly. Your extra bottle of water from within the bottomless bag washes away enough blood and debris to see that there is a large abrasion covering the majority of her left shin, irregular around the edges and still bleeding. You assume that this came from the actual impact on the ground. Her arms are bruised and present similar, if more minor, scrapes in small patches. You gently convince her to let you feel her limbs, finding nothing shifting where it should not.

“Good news,” you tell her, “I don’t feel that anything is broken.”

The big sister breathes a huge sigh of relief. She hits Thomas on the arm with an even fiercer scowl than before. “You are sooooo lucky! SO lucky my sister is ok!”

“Ow-! Ow! Hey! I’m sorry! I said I was sorry! Aggie stop!”

Digging in your bag, you once again thank Aunt Marian for lessons on being prepared. You treat Marnie with a field salve mushed together with items you’ve already collected after cleaning her hurts again, then bandage her up. Aggie looks guilty. Her cheeks puff outward like a frog’s and her hands grind into each other.

“Daddy said that no work goes unpaid, but we don’t have any money. Doctor, um…” (You get the feeling she’s already forgotten your name, you let that slide too.) “Is there anything we can do to pay you without money?”

Your heart hurts to see a kid try and take on responsibility. You quickly wave off the offer, “It’s fine, I was just helping out.”

“Daddy said we can’t!”

Honest to goodness, you hate trying to reason with kids. They’re not like adults, they can go on being just as stubborn as you. You’ll make no headway in convincing Aggie that, truly, you are ok with not being paid this time. Small town values are something else. The kids have had a rotten enough afternoon and you, the adult, feel like going out of your way. It also presents a unique opportunity to knock two birds with one stone.

“Alright, alright,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “You can do one thing to help me out. I was going to have lunch all by myself, this afternoon, but…”

The kids pipe up quicker than you can finish. “We’ll help!”

“Oh, good! That’s a relief. You’re going to be doing me a big favor by coming along.”

You search up the address for Peppino’s Pizza.

---

A metal bell rings overhead when you walk through the façade’s door, alerting your favorite Italian to customers at the door. If you didn’t know the owner is as authentic as they come, you’d laugh at the incredibly stereotypical black and white tile in combination with red, white, and green décor. You watch him emerge from the kitchen with a great big cloud of flour as you usher the kids inside. You might even call him eager to greet his patrons from how fast he gathers up a notebook and pen.

“Salve! Welcome to Peppino’s Pizza, how can I help-“

It dissolves the moment he realizes it’s you standing in his empty restaurant. The click of his pen is a little too aggressive to be anything else but annoyance at your presence. Still, he can’t immediately start getting sour with the three kids here. Good, your secret weapon is working.

“Heyyy Peppino.” You come up to the counter, stretching your greeting with all the casualness you can muster. Your gaggle of kids follow suit, heads peeking over the counter. “How’re you doing?”

“Just fine.” He scans over the tiny crew, pausing on Marnie. “What happened to the little one?”

“Tree.” You shrug.

“It was a really big one,” she supplies.

His concern runs out and he taps his notepad impatiently. “So, are you going to order something, or are we going to stand here all day?”

You turn to the kids, gesturing to the faded plastic menu over Peppino’s head.

“Pepperoni!” Thomas shouts first.

“Peppers and sausage!” Aggie exclaims next. “I just want cheese…” Marnie mumbles.

The chef raises a brow after he finishes writing their orders down, leaning over the counter. “All on the same pie? Or are you going to make Peppino cook three separate pies? Eh?”

He has an exceptionally large amount of geniality for them when compared to his stiff behavior with you. You’re almost surprised – you didn’t expect it to work this much.

They look back at you. You shrug. “One small for each won’t hurt.”

“And what about you?” He turns away from the notebook to focus on you. You notice it’s less than a glower, so that’s a start. “Do you want something too?”

“Same as last time. Can’t beat a new favorite.”

He writes that down too, punches the total into a machine that you think is from the 90s, and charges you out. Four pizzas and drinks; not exactly chump change when ordering for everyone, but it’s a good deal cheaper than what you’d get back home. While Peppino heads in the back to get your orders together, you pull out the heavy book from your bag once again and settle with the trio of children in a faux leather booth. Their chatter becomes background noise as you read on, unentertaining paragraphs beginning to make more sense.

By the time you’ve finished getting a beginner’s grasp on the concepts and mechanics needed for your ideas, Peppino’s coming out with two pizzas on either arm. You’re a little impressed by how he can balance all of them at once without burning himself. So are the kids, apparently, because they’re shouting and clapping as he slides them towards each recipient over the table.

“Yours, pepperoni, pepper and sausage, and” -he takes a moment to flourish an extra spin for Marnie’s pan, who is the most impressed of you all- “cheese. Buon appetito.”

Thomas immediately digs in without a care for burning his tongue. Marnie’s hands are more careful thanks to Aggie’s help. The older sister only gets one bite for every two of Marnie’s, but she manages to take huge bites that even the difference anyways. All three of them parrot their thanks to the chef in charge between the feral bites that come with kids really enjoying their food. Peppino lingers for a second longer than he should. You follow his line of sight directly to the book in your lap.

“If you’re trying to understand what any of this is saying,” you wryly comment, “trust me, so am I.”

His gaze jerks upwards, concentration turning to yet another frown. “What is this?”

“What’s in the book?”

“Yes, the book.”

“Oh. Yes, the book, the book I am currently reading.” You hold it up and make a show of flipping the cover around for him with a smug half smile. “The book that contains information about transmutation. This book.”

You can see it. The conversation from a few days ago is turning over in his head. The kids stop eating for a moment to watch the adults talk. You feel yourself get a mirthful joker’s kick out of watching the mental journey turn wary curiosity into mounting paranoia.

“For… what?” He asks, composure holding back whatever horrors his mind is undoubtedly conjuring.

You can’t help yourself. You set the book back down in your lap matter-of-factly, opening it up to the page of polymorph potions. “To turn you into a toad, of course.”

Peppino gets out of reach in a surprisingly coordinated backstep shuffle, punctuated by a barely restrained noise that you really can’t categorize as anything but a “yelp”. The poor man’s hat slips from his head when his back cracks against his own counter in hasty retreat. The kids laugh at his expense – as do you, though less loudly and 100% less jeering.

“You said that you could not be trusted, but I did not think that you would do this right in my face!” “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You hurry up your burst of laughter, getting up and setting the book down. He doesn’t accept any of your help, even when he winces. “Sorry! I’m joking! I swear! I’m joking!”

“Merda!” Oh, now that was a curse word you recognized. So did the kids if the resulting chorus of gasps is anything to go by. “I don’t want any more of your jokes, they are the worst jokes!”

Peppino grunts and hunches over for longer than he should. You feel the fun drain out of your stomach. You got him hurt with your fun and games, overreaction to sarcasm or not. He sits with a heaviness that betrays the pain he’s in.

“That was my fault. I’m sorry.” You catch sight of your bag. You can apologize for it in action, here and now. “Look, cross my heart, no more jokes.”

“Ech, easy to say!”

Your mouth presses into a line before you continue, “I want to make it up to you, but you’ll have to trust that what I make is, indeed, something that will help you.”

His head snaps up to meet you eye to eye. You know that he really has no reason to trust you after three mean jokes in a row, nor any reason to stay nice. The slew of heated words gets chewed behind his drawn-thin mouth, mustache working side to side. It never comes – he waves his hand dismissively.

“Do whatever you want,” he grumbles, “it can’t be worse than what I already have.”

You take the chance before he changes his mind and go back to the booth for your bag, motioning for the kids to keep eating. Your pizza will probably get to a gooey lukewarm by the time you’re done, but that’s the price you pay. Ducking into the kitchen (you can see Peppino almost protest before you get in), you quickly get a small pot, fill it with water, and set to work. Plants, fungi, minerals. Ground, sieved, boiled. It’s easier than the mash you made for Marnie’s hurts from years of experience; still, it never turns out exactly the maroon Aunt Marian tried to push you towards. You pull the pot from the heat, strain it into a coffee mug, and bring it back to Peppino.

He eyes you skeptically. You motion to the white porcelain wordlessly. He sighs, takes its handle, and samples with a small, hesitant sip.

“This is tea,” he deadpans.

“That’s alchemy,” you retort. “If it’s bitter, honey always helps.”

“I don’t even feel better, what is this? You studied to make tea?”

Sarcasm, you realize, does not feel as good when you’re the one being sassed. You feel your own annoyance growing in turn. “I studied to learn what was safe to put into that ‘tea’, in what dosage, and in what combinations. Specifically, so that it will not kill anyone.”

“Oh, I see, yes that is something that is worth a whole school.” Peppino’s back straightens as he goes on rolling you over the coals, draining the mug halfway in a single pull. “Magic tea. I could have gone to school to learn how to cook when I already knew how from learning at home.”

You both realize a moment later what happened. Peppino scowls and slouches again. You regain the upper hand in smugness, leaning over the counter with an elbow for support.

“Magic tea?” You cheerily repeat. “Ok! You made your point.” He gets up, shooing you from out behind the counter. “No customers back here anymore!”

You laugh as you go back to your lukewarm pizza and giggling children.

---

You take Thomas, Aggie, and Marnie back to their homes in the truck after you all retrace your steps through the woods. Incidentally, they happen to live on neighboring farms. Aggie and Marnie’s parents thank you profusely when you drop the girls off. You’re thankful the salve has done its job by the time they go back, neither of them has to explain what never left a mark. Thomas’ mother, on the other hand, gives her boy hell for staying out so late and not telling her, then makes him apologize for making you take him home.

You feel fulfilled after today’s work. Tired from all the hiking but fulfilled. You helped some people, you got some headway in repairing your repute with Peppino, and you got a good meal out of it. There’s even half a pizza for you to heat up later. You're not sure why you keep trying with him, anyways. You don't think on it very long either - chalk it up to liking the food.

“Miao.”

You’ve heard the same pitiful, damnable noise before on your first day here. When you open the front door, lo and behold, the same tabby is sitting on the porch.

“Miao,” it squeaks again.

“I’m not falling for that.”

“Miao.”

“I already told you once, I’m not helping you again. You’ll just tear my trash bags open.”

“Miao.” It looks up at you with sad, wide eyes. You sigh.

“Ok, you make a convincing argument. But this is temporary, got it?”

“Miao.”

Somehow understanding the agreement, the cat weaves through your legs and into the cottage. You follow after it to sacrifice one of your tuna cans for its dinner. Ha ha, you think to yourself for the twelfth time today. Maybe you want to make friends with Peppino because you're a sucker for helping stray animals.

-------------------------------------------------------

is peppino more of a kicked puppy or a wet kitten? vote now, call 555-NOISETV. that's 555-664-7388, NOISETV (totally legitimate number). i'm not entirely happy with this one, but at least you're getting good pizza out of it. enjoy.

[lazuliquetzal]

I love time travel too! 💖 Do you have any time travel fic ideas for LU?

YES TIME TRAVEL FANFIC MY BELOVED

Hmm tbh LU doesn't lend itself too well to the typical time travel fanfic plot. The comic hasn't reached an end, or even a recontextualizing middle point, so a "travel back in time and meet the past versions of everyone!" plot doesn't have the same satisfaction.

one could argue that DotF is a critique of the time travel fix it plot, because... well... you know.

I do have an ageswap AU time travel idea where older legend meets wind and is like, "what the hell. You were my mentor. You were my hero. What do you mean you have no idea what you're doing."

If you want to read my fav time travel fic in the fandom, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU to read @soybean-official's fic, to rewind. It's legend time travel. It's my fav. It's the fic of all time

[gins-potter]

The Beckoning of Shadows - Chapter Seventeen

preview

“Headmistress Griffin,” Zarathustra said, making Griffin pause. “Where are you taking the tome of the founding coven?” 

Griffin’s hands tightened on the text. As the spell book put together by the three witches who had first built Cloud Tower, Griffin was the only person permitted to read its contents, but the entire staff of Cloud Tower knew how to identify the text from its cover. 

“To the heart of the school,” she finally said, gathering a few more supplies from her desk. “The Trix were right to have gone there, it’s the most direct way to funnel power into the entire school. If we have any hope of wrestling control back, that is where I must go.” 

“You don’t think the witches will have gone back there?” Zarathustra queried. A gleam of understanding flickered in her dark eyes. “That’s why you have sent the fairies on the wild goose chase, to draw them out.” 

Griffin’s lips curled in a faint smile. “Icy, Darcy, and Stormy are young, they still allow themselves to be consumed by petty revenge rather than seeing the bigger picture. If they are distracted by the need to pick them off, it will be to their downfall and our gain.” 

“How wicked,” Zarathustra purred, delighted by the plan. “I love live bait.” 

Some of the amusement faded from Griffin’s expression as she cut her deputy an indecipherable look. “Do not fall into the same ignorance that befalls the Trix, Zarathustra,” she warned her colleague. “The fairies are strong enough to be a threat even while divided.” 

Forgetting herself for a moment, Zarathustra snorted in derision. “Do not think I didn’t notice that you put the fairies in their weakest pairs.” 

“I did,” Griffin admitted. “But that was for their benefit not to aid the Trix. If the fairies can strengthen the weakest bonds among them, they will truly be unstoppable.” 

Read more: Ao3 I ff.net

Start from ch1: Ao3 I ff.net

Start from vol.1: Ao3 I ff.net

[aparticularbandit]

-looks at current tsumugi birthday fic chapter-

-sighs-

i guess this is going to have an m rating because somebody has decided to make some decisions that are not appropriate for a lower rating

[rewriting-thearrowverse]

➳ Arrow (N-S)

Main:

➴N

➴O

𖣠 Oliver Jonas Queen:

➴P

➴Q

𖣠 Quentin Larry Lance:

➴R

𖣠 Roy William Harper: (I'm bringing back Ginger Roy)

➴S

𖣠 Sara Lance

[cesium-sheep]

dear ao3

sorry for marking fics for later so rapidly you have to stop me occasionally for fear of ddos, I appreciate you looking out for everyone and I promise I'm neither a robot nor acting maliciously but I'll wait anyway

love sheepy

[purgatory-jar]

Foxfire - a pinefest fic

fic by: kilvmaim (@scatterbugged here on tumblr!)

art by: purgatory-jar

Summary: Castiel is just some guy he met at Chili's, except for the fact that he's not just some guy, really.

*

Edit: link to the fic has been added!

I'm so glad I'm finally able to share the art I did for Hannah's Pinefest fic! It was a pleasure working on this story and I couldn't have asked for a better author!

I think I'm the first one posting, so the link to the fic might be up a lil later today, I'll add it to this post and I'll reblog the pinefest masterpost as soon as they're up! In the meantime, you can find the promo post here: x

[buddierecs]

buck & christopher fics

i have had so many requests for fics with chris & buck or buckley-diaz family fics, so i am going to post some of my favourite fics with those two tags, starting with buck & christopher and then when i answer the request, i will add fics that are more specific to what the person is asking for, while linking the fic lists :) these are also buddie fics btw all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut). make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

christopher diaz has two dads okay (series) by: honestlydarkprincess "all my stories that include buck being christopher's other dad, because that's my shit" word count: 61k important tags: buck as chris' parent, buckley-diaz family feels whenever you call me, i'll be there by: ipretendtobesane "five times chris calls buck, and the one time buck calls chris" word count: 8.4k important tags: 5+1 things, tooth-rotting fluff never wanna let you go, know you make me feel alright by: alwaysou28 "four times buck's relationship with chris negatively affected his romantic relationship and one time it didn't." word count: 4.2k important tags: 4+1 things, buck as chris' parent, fluff, pre-relationship buddie i was made for you by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars "buck’s taking care of christopher while eddie is in texas when chris gets sick and has to get surgery." word count: 5.3k important tags: buck as chris' parent, protective!evan buckley, worried!evan buckley, sick!christopher diaz, team as family the wood marked for your fire by: hattalove "in which buck is used to wanting things he's not allowed to have; it's just that he never thought being a father would be one of them." word count: 10k important tags: buck as chris' parent, fluff rainbows have nothing to hide by: hattalove "how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways." word count: 3.7k important tags: christopher diaz is a national treasure, kermit memes, multimedia this postcard tells you where we've been by: daisies_and_briars "eddie finds a collection of postcards buck sent to chris over his summer in el paso." word count: 3.5k important tags: post season 7, soft and fluffy, multimedia i've seen a couple suns that set forever by: daisies_and_briars "freshly home from texas and faced with the prospect of his dad's feelings for buck, christopher's abandonment issues surface. a conversation with bobby, and realizing the parallels between buck's relationship with bobby, and his relationship with buck, gives chris the perspective he needs." word count: 7k important tags: found family, emotional hurt/comfort, teenager!christopher, post season 7 open our eyes and it's changing the view by: markofalover "christopher writes a poem and everything falls into place." word count: 3.3k important tags: buck is chris' parent, poetry, friends to lovers the parent trap by: abow123456 "evan buckley is 7 years old when his mother leaves him at a gas station, where he meets bobby nash. 20 years later, evan "buck" nash is a firefighter with the 118, when he meets 7 year old christopher diaz at a gas station, after his mother killed herself. he takes the boy in, just like his father did to him, and cares for him. but, when christophers father finally comes into the picture, how will things change?" word count: 53k important tags: buck as chris' parent, adoption, team as family, bobby and athena are buck's parents nothing left but you by: daisies_and_briars "in may of 2021, 25% of earth's population suddenly disappears. including eddie. in may of 2026, they all come back. eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly." word count: 27k important tags: time skips, temporary character death, buck as chris' dad

[archaeren]

Hello!! I hope you're having a good day ^^ I came across your post about writing non-linearly on Notion and I'm excited to try it out because the advice resonated with me! Though, I'm really new to using the app and, if possible, need help with how to do this part: 'where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry.' ;v;

Hello! Thank you so much for messaging!!! Since that post about writing non-linearly (linked for context) blew up roughly ten thousand times as much as anything I've ever posted, I've been kind of meaning to make a followup post explaining more about how I use Notion for writing non-linearly, but, you know, ADHD, so I haven't done it yet. XD In the meantime, I'll post a couple screenshots of my current long fic with some explanations! I'd make this post shorter, but I'm unable to not be Chatty. XD (just ask my poor readers how long my author notes are...) (There is a phone app as well which syncs with the desktop/browser versions, but I work predominantly in the desktop app so that's what I'm gonna be showing)

(the table keeps going off the right side of the image but it's a bunch of unimportant stuff tbh) So this is more complicated than what you'll probably start with because I'm Normal and add a bunch of details that you might not need depending on what you're doing. For example, my fic switches POVs so I have a column for tracking that, and my fic follows a canon timeline so I have a column for dates so I can keep track of them, and I also made columns for things like if a scene had spoilers or certain content readers may want to avoid, which they can access in my spoiler and content guide for the fic. (As I said, I'm Normal.) I also do some complicated stuff using Status and estimated wordcount stuff to get an idea of how long I predict the content to be, but again, not necessary. Anyway, you don't need any of that. For the purposes of this explanation, we're just gonna look at the columns I have called Name, Order, and Status. (And one called Part, but we'll get into that later) Columns in Notion have different types, such as Text, Numbers, Select, Date, etc, so make sure to use the type that works best for the purpose of each column! For example, here I'm using Select for Character POVs, Number for Order and WC (wordcount), and Text for the In-Game Date. Okay let's get into it! Name is a column that comes in a Notion table by default, and you can't get rid of it (which drives me up the wall for some purposes but works totally fine for what we're doing here). As you can see on the scene I've labeled 'roll call', if you hover over a Name entry, a little button called 'Open' appears, which you click on to open the document that's inside the table. That's all default, you don't have to set anything up for it. Here's a screenshot of what it looks like when I click the one titled 'I will be anything for you' (I've scrolled down in the screenshot so you can see the text, but all the data fields also appear at the top of the page)

(This view is called 'side peek' meaning the document opens on one side and you can still see the table under it on the left, which is what mine defaults to. But you can set it to 'center peek' or 'full page' as well.) All my scenes have their own entry like this! Note that I've said scenes, not chapters. I decide the chapters later by combining the scenes in whatever combination feels right, which means I can often decide in advance where my chapter endings will be. This helps me consciously give most of my endings more impact than I was usually able to do when I tried to write linearly. So hopefully that gives you an idea of what I mean by writing inside the table and treating the table as a living outline. The 'Status' column is also pretty straightforward, and might require a little setup for whatever your needs are. This is another default column type Notion has which is similar to a Select but has a few more specialized features. This is how mine is set up:

(I don't actually use 'Done', idk why I left it there. Probably I should replace it with 'Posted' and use that instead of the checkmark on the far left? whatever, don't let anyone tell you I'm organized. XDD)

Pretty straightforward, it just lets me see easily what's complete and what still needs work. (You'll notice there's no status for editing, because like I mentioned in my other post, I don't ever sit down to consciously edit, I just let it happen as I reread) Obviously tailor this to your own needs! The Order column is sneakily important, because this is what makes it easy for me to keep the scenes organized. I set the Sort on the table to use the Order to keep the scene ordered chronologically. When I make the initial list of scenes I know the fic will have, I give all of them a whole number to put them in order of events. Then as I write and come up with new scene ideas, the new scenes get a number with a decimal point to put them in the spot they fit in the timeline. (you can't see it here, but some of them have a decimal three or four digits deep, lol). Technically you can drag them to the correct spot manually, but if you ever create another View in your table (you can see I have eight Views in this one, they're right under the title) it won't keep your sorting in the new View and you'll hate yourself when it jumbles all your scenes. XD (And if you get more comfortable with Notion, you probably will at some point desire to make more Views) The Part column isn't necessary, but I found that as the fic grew longer, I was naturally separating the scenes into different points along the timeline by changes in status quo, etc. (ex. "this is before they go overseas" "this is after they speak for the first time", stuff like that) in my mind. To make it easier to decide where to place new scenes in the timeline, I formalized this into Parts, which initially I named with short summaries of the current status quo, and later changed to actual titles because I decided it would be cool to actually use them in the fic itself. Since it's not in the screenshots above, here's what the dropdown for it looks like:

(I've blocked some of the titles out for spoiler reasons)

Basically I only mention the Parts thing because I found it was a useful organizational tool for me and I was naturally doing it in my head anyway. Anyway, I could keep talking about this for a really long time because I love Notion (don't get me started on how I use toggle blocks for hiding content I've edited out without deleting it) but that should be enough to get started and I should really, you know, not make this another insanely long post. XDD And if anybody is curious about how the final results look, the fic can be found here.

[bigswitchenergyy]

I'm terrible about remembering to post my AO3 links to Tumblr so here's a thread of firstprince fics

and I know now that i'm so down

Singer Henry x Actor Alex AU - explicit

you're so gorgeous, it actually hurts (honey it hurts)

Alex workout thirst - explicit

back against the wall (tripping when you're gone)

Polo player Henry x Journalist Alex - E

you could be my perfect disaster; I could be your ever after and my hand was the one you reached for

Firstprince x Kingsman AU - E

you know how to ball, I know aristotle

Roommates AU - E

i want all of you. forever. you and me.

Firstprince x The Notebook AU - E, complete

(I have more, I'll add them as a reply later 🫶🏽)

[starglow-xx]

star's blue lock fic recs!

below the links are my own personal notes with a short plot blurb! a heart means it’s one of my personal faves! (but actually i just love all these fics so, so much)

im a heavy isagi simp so rn it's basically all him oops but i'll eventually add my fave fics for other characters too hehe

want more fic recs? see fic rec master list post here! all fic masterlists will be updated randomly!

✧.* Challenge Accepted : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ isagi yoichi you are a star

ᰔᩚ in which isagi is used as a chess piece for the jfa for more money and views by placing him in an exhibition match against ichinan high school with a certain someone taking his old spot as forward.

OR in which isagi yoichi proves he isn't just a lucky shot

ᰔᩚ status: complete! 3 chapters & 17,021 words

💗 More Than A Memory : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ sobbing over little isagi he's the cutest thing i just wanna pinch his little cheeks :(

ᰔᩚ isagi gets to meet his idol noel noa on his birthday and everything comes full circle 10 years later

ᰔᩚ bonus! the blue lock boys find out it's isagi birthday and chaos breaks loose as isagi and noel noa have a heart to heart

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot with 7,107 words

✧.* A Reason to Celebrate : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ isagi yoichi you are so, so loved & deserve nothing but the best

ᰔᩚ in which ego lets everyone know it's their favorite striker's birthday

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot with 6,371 words

💗 That's My Ego : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ AKSSVNSL i adore this fic sm, they're so cute i cannot

ᰔᩚ blue lock with a fem! isagi! some others are gender bent too but see fic for more hehe

ᰔᩚ sports with shoujo! follows the blue lock plot but has hints of romance as a side (?) plot mwah mwah

ᰔᩚ status: incomplete ; last updated april 19, 2023 ; 16 chapters & 85,024 words

💗💗💗 Butterfly Flutterby : ̗̀➛ ao3 link (but can also be found on quotev!)

ᰔᩚ this fic has my heart 10/10, i always reread ; i will never not recommend this fic, it’s honestly one of my faves of all time ; still patiently waiting for the next update :((

ᰔᩚ fem reader insert! the interactions with the blue lock boys are always so cute and so is mc i wanna squish her (our??) cheeks (author refers to her as rea-chan in the notes so sometimes i read it as an oc fic teehee)

ᰔᩚ mc gets chosen to be a manager for the blue lock program, competing alongside other managers facing risk of elimination like the boys

ᰔᩚ slight hints of romance/possible pairings but very minimal ; focus for now is being friends/a good manager

ᰔᩚ status: incomplete ; last updated march 19, 2023 ; 12 chapters & 64,042 words

ISAGI YOICHI

✧.* Hometown Hero : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ need more fics abt reuniting with isagi post blue lock bc man the angst potential is great :(

ᰔᩚ fem! reader where mc and isagi, her childhood friend, reunite but he's a bit different than how she remembered him

ᰔᩚ some angst but has a happy ending!

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot with 2,862 words

✧.* Fake It 'til We Make It : ̗̀➛ ao3 link

ᰔᩚ fake dating! do i need to say more

ᰔᩚ no pronouns! gender neutral reader!

ᰔᩚ a bit of angst but happy ending! :D

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot with 3,270 words

💗💗 if i had a choice : ̗̀➛ tumblr link

ᰔᩚ crying bc i want isagi to want me too :((

ᰔᩚ post u-20 match! fem! reader reuniting with isagi having already accepted soccer takes priority in his life right now

ᰔᩚ angst with a happy ending!

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot

💗 happily always after : ̗̀➛ tumblr link

ᰔᩚ ASDSVN i wanna marry isagi :(

ᰔᩚ a misunderstanding regarding a proposal causes you to distance yourself a little

ᰔᩚ hurt/comfort with a happy ending!

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot

💗💗 home visits : ̗̀➛ tumblr link

ᰔᩚ he's literally so sweet im going to die, isagi marry me pls :((

ᰔᩚ where you visit isagi's parents at his house and seeing some baby photos make you think of the future

ᰔᩚ fluffy fluff fluff, you'll get a tooth ache

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot

💗💗 as close as strangers : ̗̀➛ tumblr link

ᰔᩚ ASNVLS oh to have a meet cute with isagi yoichi :(

ᰔᩚ you go with you sister to a bar to meet her newest boy toy but end up getting rescued by a stranger when you get some unwanted attention

ᰔᩚ fluff fluff isagi yoichi pls marry me

ᰔᩚ status: complete! one shot with 1.4k words

[for-a-longlongtime]

Alert: DBF!Joel dropping TONIGHT

EDIT: it's here! -> Guilty Pleasure - Part 1

BUT

there's a catch.

Since the fic is probably gonna end up being about 12K words or something... I've decided to turn it into a little series with mini chapters that are each between 1000 to 2000 words on average. Sounds good?

also that way I don't need to pull a Spongebob for the transitions. 😁

SO.

Part 1 is dropping later today- probably in the evening (EST), as it still needs some polishing and a title. I'm also just going to do general warnings for the full fic, not per chapter, JSYK. (also yes, I'll definitely add 'next' and 'prev' chapter links for your convenience!)

Thank you for your time and all the love. 💜