#schoolyard story

[kaunis-sielu]

Schoolyard: End

You pull Thor behind you to the car, open the back and tug him in behind you. You close and lock the door then climb into his lap and wrap your arms tightly around his neck.

“He. He was fine this morning.” Thor mutters into your neck. “I don’t understand. He was fine this morning.” You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You just slide your fingers across his scalp, Thor’s arms wrap tightly around you as he sobs. Your heart just breaks for him, he and Odin hadn’t always gotten along but Odin was still his father.

After a few minutes someone taps on the window, when you glance over you see a teary eyed Sif.

“Thor? I need to talk to Sif okay?” He loosens his grip enough for you to open the door.

“We need to go.” She says her voice thick.

“We do. Call the embassy and have them pack up our things. Let them know what’s going on. I want Bryn and Fandral to meet us at the plane, we’re going home immediately.”

“Okay.” Sif unlocks all the doors then closes the door. You hear the driver’s door open and the passengers then the car starts.

“Your Majesty? Can you buckle please?” Volstagg says gently and you manage to barely buckle the two of you into one seat. Thor isn’t going to be letting go of you anytime soon which is just fine with you.

It’s a mostly silent ride to the plane. Bryn and Fandral meet you there, both look shocked and heartbroken. You take Thor’s hand and lead him onto the jet then directly to the bedroom.

“On the bed Krigeren min.” You soothe and he does as you say. You tug off his shoes then cover him with the blanket, you’re afraid he’s going to go into shock. When you go to leave his hand shoots out and catches your wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to make a plan with the team. I’m going to get my phone so I can call Loki and going to grab yours so you can check in on your mom.”

“Oh, mother. I’m a horrible son I didn’t even think about how this is effecting her.” He says sitting up suddenly.

“Stay. I will get your phone.” You tell him placing a gentle hand on his chest.

“Esklede,” he murmurs and you give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now stay, let me take care of things.”

“Okay.” You go out into the main cabin where everyone is just sitting sort of shell shocked.

“Volstagg I need Thor’s phone. Fandral, Brynn can you help find Thor and I clothes that are appropriate for mourning please?” The two spring into action as Volstagg gives you Thor’s phone. “Thank you.” You head back to the room where Thor is and give him his phone. He pulls you into his lap, you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he calls his mom. They talk softly and you try not to listen but it’s hard not to. Frigga is heartbroken but worried about her son, in the way only a mom can be. Once Thor hangs up with Frigga he calls Loki.

“How is she doing?”

“Alright. As well as can be expected. Have you called her yet?” Loki answers honestly.

“I just hung up, with her but you know how mother gets. She’s more concerned with us than herself.”

“Typical.” Loki says, “are you on your way back?”

“We are.”

“Good. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Just be with mother. Make sure she takes care of herself.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, I love you Loki.”

“And I you Thor.” The pair hang up then and you card your hand through his hair and Thor, showing impressive strength, moves down the bed never removing you from his lap then lays down.

He sleeps, you doze but when Bryn opens the door to bring your clothing you wake and give her a soft smile of thanks from where you’re laying stretched on Thor’s body.

“How long?”

“Two and a half hours.”

“Thank you.” You’re going to shower and get ready now so that Thor has time to sleep a bit longer but when you go to move Thor let’s out a low grumble.

“No.”

“I’m just going to go shower and start getting ready, you can shower after.” You mutter before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles and you hum softly.

“Okay, five more minutes.” You agree glancing at your watch. You card your fingers through his hair again and Thor hums lowly.

After your five minutes you go shower and get ready for the day. Thor gets ready after you and when the plane lands he takes a shaky breath.

“Whatever you need, I’m here.” You whisper and he gives your hand a squeeze. It’s truly a blur, your concern for Thor makes it hard for you to focus on much else, you help him write a couple of speeches, one for the country and one for Odin’s funeral. He’s supposed to go up alone but when he clings to your hand like he’s your lifeline how can you let go?

“King Odin was how he was known by most, but Prince Loki and I knew him by another name, father. It is not always easy growing up with a Father who is a King but I think mine did it well. He loved and supported us, taught us to be good people, to love our country and to always care for one another. He taught us that strength in the family brings strength to the country. I know that we are not alone in our grief, for many of us King Odin was the only King we have ever known, he was not a perfect King but he kept the peace, he cared for the people and he did what he always thought was the best for the many. His is an example that I strive to live up to. I am grateful for the time that I was given to rule with his hand on my shoulder, I-” he chokes on the word and takes a deep breath, “I wi-” he chokes down another sob then glances to you before dropping his head.

“I will miss him greatly.” You say reading the words as tears flow from Thor’s eyes, “There will not be a day that I do not think of my Father and hope that he will be proud of the man that I am and the King I strive to be. Rest easy in Valhalla Father, may we see you again there someday.” You take the papers from the stand and Thor folds them shoving them back into his pocket then he leads you down off of the stage and back to Frigga’s side. She gives you a watery smile and a single nod and you know you’ve done her proud.

Both Loki and the Queen Mother speak too, the only one who doesn’t cry is Frigga, something you’re surprised by but she does have to pause several times in her speech to compose herself. Then the four of you follow Odin’s coffin as it’s lead to the burial site. You stand at his side the whole time, your hand wrapped in his, you mourn too some tears falling as Odin’s coffin is lowered into the ground and the Asgardian National Anthem plays.

The next six months will probably be the hardest, you all have to wear black whenever in public for mourning. Frigga likely won’t wear much else until she too passes. You and Thor decide to put off any wedding plans until after his first year of ruling is over, once things calm down a little bit. As much as you’d like it to be a smaller ceremony becoming Queen isn’t a time for small, and marrying royalty is, apparently, a huge deal. Thor does convince you to let him officially crown you in a small intimate ceremony to make your being Queen and his wife official. You’ll be publicly crowned as a part of the wedding ceremony but after a frank conversation with Frigga you’d both realized that he couldn’t do it alone and if you were saying that you got married in a small ceremony before Odin had died, technically the truth, you might as well be crowned officially too.

It’s not a complicated ceremony, you’re awarded dual citizenship then you kneel in front of Thor, repeating a vow to best serve the people of Asgard and to stand by Thor’s side, to be his ally and support as he rules. You promise to protect the throne to the best of your abilities as wife, Queen and mother. Then he places a crown on your head and you rise, officially his Queen and Thor kisses you soundly in front of everyone gathered. You can’t believe that you ever thought you might leave him. That you’d get an annulment and go back to New York City, living a life that you’d expected. One you’d enjoyed, but this the life you’re building with Thor, is the one that you were meant to live.

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thesassmisstress @eralen @bobbie3939 @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @killcomet @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @sophham @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @gaitwae @blackwidownat2814 @innerpaperexpertcloud

#Thor #thor x reader #thor imagine #imagine thor #imagine thor x reader #Thor x reader imagine #schoolyard story

[hydaen]

schoolyard dance off

#ocs #character design #my ocs #oc: molly #oc: bethany #story: all saints #song is schoolyard dance off by studio killers

[intiredtea]

INTRODUCING: THE TORTUGA TWINS!!!

Please, for the love of the gods below, click for better image quality.

They travel at the same time.

I figured I've lurked in the fandom long enough. I'll shake off the nerves and post my Tavs!

Zeke is... interesting in his choice of romance. If y'all are ever interested to see his disaster romancing, lemme know. DeeDee is hella yandere for "Prince Wyll" and doodles hearts around his name on her skull carvings.

Zeke and Gale really don't like one another. He is a very picky eater and thinks illusion magic is for chumps.

DeeDee is mortal enemies with Shadowheart. There's only so much eyeliner and mascara to go around and they've gotten into fist fights over using Astarion's mirror in the morning.

#happy happy sharing! #please look at my babies #also i wrote full on stories for Zeke and his relation with Raphael #dude is like a schoolyard bully to Raph #finds it hilarious to bruise his ego any chance he gets #Deedee is foul-mouthed #doesn't know how to get Wyll to notice her #offers little animal corpses like a feral cat #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #raphael #wyll ravengard #astarion acunin #unfiltered bleating #goblin doodles #autistic #devil #artists on tumblr #comics on tumblr

[armed-saphire]

I was speedrunning MGR in front of my cousin and she told me that since I was skipping every cutscene she would fill in the blanks in her head for what was going on based on her loose understanding of the events and she told me basically every pre-fight cutscene went like this

#She's played the game before so she was going off the one time she's seen the cutscenes #But yeah it was basically all immature schoolyard teasing in her mind #She kinda made the story the fuck up as we went because without the cutscenes or codecs you essentially know nothing about what's happening #Anyway #mgr #metal gear rising #raiden mgr #raiden metal gear #mistral mgr #fanart #doodle

[shyspider]

Not gonna ask for spoilers really but please tell me that soundwave and the cassettes are gonna be relatively nice to eva. She needs at least one relatively safe place in a ship full or decepticons.

I mean, Soundwave's not going to knit her space sweaters or anything, but he'll be kind to her, as he would any of his cassettes.

#As for the cassettes? #I think compared to what she's going through #schoolyard bullies WOULD seem a bit nicer #but Soundwave will be her best chance #But there will be another who is kind to her #and of course as the story goes on respect will be gained #but it will be hard earned #She is an organic autobot-sympathizer after all #Anon asks #Shyspider answers

[doks-aux]

Absolutely married to the idea of Sam Bellamy and Edward Teach as the most storied and respected pirates of their own lifetimes, who can’t get within fifty feet of each other without becoming the most bitchy, competitive, muleheaded children imaginable.

#they can and will get into a schoolyard brawl in the middle of jackie's bar #'stop hitting yourself sam!' #'fuck you eddy!' #Sam Bellamy #Edward Teach #Blackbeard #Flying Gang #pirates #Our Flag Means Death #doc's headcanons #doc's stories #Reunion AU #Prince of Hands #doc's AUs #doc posts pirates

[sagitarrio]

Day 2 - school

They finally banned it here. Goddamn Kyoya and Tetsuya and their constant fighting and one-upping. A stolen bey, a bloodied nose, and now they've ruined it for the rest of us.

We had been on our best behaviour after hearing what had happened at other schools, we were envied by the kids in our scout troop from schools who'd banned them already. But we knew it was coming eventually... and we were ready.

Us kids are often underestimated, adults never expect us to outsmart them, and when we are discovered, they always act surprised, our assumed stupidity so ingrained in their minds that they can barely accept what they see in front of them.

But a life of getting your toys taken away from you, having nonsensical rules imposed on you, having to ask to go to the bathroom, being told what to do, when to eat, where we can go. It breeds a instinctual sense of rebellion, all the kids in the school know where to go to blade, and everyone knows not to snitch.

We ran it like a well-oiled machine. Yu, one of the few kids with a phone, kept a roster of bladers and audience members to minimize crowds and not draw attention. Operations were run small scale with minimal equipment, so when we hear that hurried whisper "teachers coming", the evidence is gone in seconds. And the locations were passed along in the early hours before classes started.

The move underground also meant some more unsavoury elements, previously kept at bay by adult supervision, were able to get a foothold in the blading scene. The entrepreneurial among us set up betting rings, it was mostly lunch money and American lollies, but the money being made was nothing to be laughed at.

Gingka and the other cool kids keep an eye on them though, making sure that they don't get too out of hand. None of us want someone going crying to the teachers about getting cleaned out.

It honestly doesn't feel like too much has changed, just one more thing we need to hide from the adults. But there has been a tension in the air recently, Masamune, Julian, the other known names are talking big game. Whispers of a tournament trickle through the schoolyard, even the teachers are noticing we're more distracted than usual. Its time to find out who's the best, and I'm not going down without giving it my all.

#mayblade 2023 #this one is not based on my life #but I've been interested in the idea of a beyblade story told in a schoolyard for a while #its mostly a practice in worldbuilding #not much story but hopefully still interesting enough #it was fun to imagine the beyblade characters in this situation i see why yall like this au stuff

[elmoshipsbyler]

ST character chart

i made this in about 3 minutes- thoughts

also i can’t decide what jonathan would be

#the only ones i’m dead set on are #mike is a warrior cats kid & would both roleplay as them in the schoolyard and write fanfic stories #and #steve is a warrior cats fanfic writer #he would write one short story as a joke in grade 6 and then realize he actually likes it #dustin looks like the kind of kid to know everyone in the party’s hogwarts house #el would like warrior cats because it’s chaotic and unhinged #anyway #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #robin buckley #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #max mayfield #stranger things memes

[lilac-5ky]

Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

#Toji x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji #zenin toji #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #toji <3 #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji headcanons #jjk toji #toji scenarios #toji smut #toji fic #toji x you #toji x self insert #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[catws-anniversary]

Today is exactly 10 years since the LA premiere of CA:TWS! As good a day as any to release all of our prompts so you can plan for the anniversary event.

Kicking off on March 26th, we'll be celebrating a decade of CA:TWS with 8 daily prompts to choose from, ranging from thematic prompts and quotes, to more general prompts and character-specific ones. These can be interpreted in any manner you choose and do not need to be linked to the daily theme.

As a reminder: this is an open event (see rules and FAQs - content does need to relate to CA:TWS), and the use of our daily prompts is entirely optional. They’re there to inspire, not to put up restrictions.

You can always contact us if you have any questions. We're so excited to see your creations!

MARCH 26 THEME: ON YOUR LEFT

The Smithsonian

First Meetings

Endurance

Mission

PTSD

"I'll put it on the list"

Favorite quote

MARCH 27 THEME: STEVE ROGERS

Camp Lehigh

Elevator

Motorcycle

Steve's list

Guilt

"It kind of feels personal"

Favorite Steve quote

MARCH 28 THEME: SHIELD

The Triskelion

Compromised

Surprise Visit

Neighbor

Weapons

"It's called compartmentalization"

Favorite scene

MARCH 29 THEME: NATASHA ROMANOFF

Mall

Disguise

Redemption

Matchmaking

Trust Issues

"Did I step on your moment?"

Favorite Natasha quote

MARCH 30 THEME: TWS CAST

Press Conference

Character Bleed

Photoshoot

Social Media

Stunts

"I'll take this one"

Favorite cast member

MARCH 31 THEME: SAM WILSON

Department of Veteran's Affairs

Partners

Soundtrack/Music

Wings

Missing Scenes

"I never said 'pilot'."

Favorite Sam quote

APRIL 1 THEME: HYDRA

Lemurian Star

Project Insight

Politics

STRIKE

Post-Credit Scenes

"Order comes through pain"

Favorite fight

APRIL 2 THEME: BUCKY BARNES

Bank

Metal Arm

Memories

Ghost Story

Revenge

"But I knew him"

Favorite Bucky quote

APRIL 3 THEME: CAP QUARTET

Washington DC

Breakfast

Bedside Vigil

Uniform

Found Family

"When do we start?"

Favorite duo

APRIL 4 THEME: TO THE END OF THE LINE

Helicarrier

1940s

Devotion

Identity Porn

Reunion

"Schoolyard and battlefield"

Favorite Stucky scene

Happy creating!

#catws #catws10 #marvel events #ca:tws anniversary #fandom events #trackmarvel #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #cap quartet #captain america: the winter soldier

[theotherendcomics]

This is inspired by a true story, where I tried to toss a basketball back into a schoolyard. They all just looked at me with such disappointment when it bounced off the fence. Not disappointed that they had to wait longer for their ball, but almost apathetic disappointment in me as a person. It was terrible. Also my dad worked at the fart factory

[toskarin]

As someone knowledgeable about MMOs, and given the topic of SAO just came up. If you were to write a .Hack/SAO/Log Horizon style story, what kind of things would you focus on? I personally feel like there are a lot of different elements of MMO culture anyone writing about them could really delve into. So I'm curious what Tumblr user Toskarin would choose.

condensed

back when I played Perfect World, it had some empty spaces. this wasn't uncommon for mmos, and if you can name one older than 15 or so years, you can bet there were vast empty spaces on the world map that existed to pad it

but they were important! sure, they added nothing of obvious value and could cynically be read as existing just to pad travel time, but they also made the worlds feel bigger than you what you were doing in them. and more mysterious.

some friends in my guild and I got a message one day that one member was going to roll a new character and wanted help levelling. a complication: their starting zone was across the sea.

a few friends and I volunteered to swim across the sea to their zone. there were definitely easier ways to go about it, but setting out to do something just to see if it was possible seemed fun

now, they may have changed this since then, but the sea in Perfect World felt strange in a way I haven't seen any game really emulate since. the sky was a dull, and as was the fashion, everything was a bit muted. the sea itself was opaque, and when you swam under it, there was a significant amount of grey-blue terrain that seemed to stretch on forever into the fog

and of course, there was fuck all in it. nothing alive. no monsters until you got close to a shore. just vast empty sea that you swam through, only your friends' characters to break up the odd stillness of it. you probably turned the music off at this point, too, so there was only ambient sound and splashing

this is because you were supposed to fly over it, if you crossed it at all. and because there wasn't really a good centralised source of knowledge on these things, it wasn't really clear if it was entirely empty

the trip there was fine, if a bit boring and lonely. during the trip back, I accidentally clicked on something in the middle of the ocean

now, there weren't supposed to be things there. I had my friends, but I clicked on a monster, and when I swam down to look at it, I saw that it was actually an enormous sea monster

so I pinged one of the guildmates swimming with me and they thought I was lying, so I showed them, and then we repeated this several times until everyone in the group had seen this weird thing that felt like it came from a schoolyard rumour

Ancient Sea Dragon. 99,999,999 health points and none of us could find anything on it posted online. it was pretty common for players to run into it and be shocked, but we didn't know that

so we naturally let the rest of the guild know, got a hunting party together, and spent the better part of a day just whittling its health down

with the benefit of hindsight and documentation of this thing existing now, I can spoil this and tell you it didn't drop anything, but this long down the line, I still think about how deeply surreal it felt to stumble on an enormous sea monster in the middle of what my brain had come to understand as a liminal space. the sea was supposed to be mostly empty, and here was this thing

which is a very long way to introduce what I think is lacking here: we need more of those enormous empty spaces that leave characters with nothing to do but talk and feel completely isolated. sometimes you get to a sprawling castle city and it's completely empty because the players moved on. sometimes the devs threw an enormous monster in the middle of nowhere just to fuck with you, and that was kind of cool even if it sucked

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Vintage Drarry Fics

Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.

Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...

Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)

A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)

I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues! 

Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)

Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)

Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.

Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)

Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride. 

Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)

Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)

Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)

Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?

The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)

Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong

Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back. 

Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)

Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.

How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)

Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.

Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)

Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)

In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...

playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)

Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?

Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)

When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.

Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)

Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.

Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)

When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?

Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)

As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Post-Hogwarts

Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)

Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?

Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)

Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.

Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)

Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.

Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him. 

Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)

"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.

Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)

A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.

Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)

When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

#drarry #fic recs #vintage drarry fics #loved putting this together #blast from the past

[bridenore]

HD Being on the run fic recs

Here are a few Harry/Draco recs where Harry and Draco are on the run. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl [69k]

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

Crown Witness by @slytherco [70k]

After the war, wizarding society is oppressed by a new kind of plague—an organised crime group calling itself the Family. When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything. In which Harry and Draco learn that the way to each other might just have to go through the dingiest hotels in Britain.

Eclipse by Mijan [287k]

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

Oh, Sinnerman by @lou-isfake and @babooshkart [40k]

“I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”   He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena [128k]

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Harry. Hiding out with Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

[atinylittlepain]

Sweetness - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

Joel masterlist

Joel has done his best to forget about his birthday, and for good reason. Ellie, however, has other plans in mind. When she recruits their pretty neighbor in Jackson to put together a surprise for him, Joel is thrown for a real loop.

warnings | 18+ angst, that's pretty much it, this is just real fluffy

Joel does his best not to think about his birthday, for a plethora of reasons. September twenty-sixth, the day that everything came crumbling down all those years ago. The day he lost his babygirl.

All those years on the road, and then in the Boston QZ, it had been easy to keep it to himself, usually spending that wretched day drinking until he couldn’t think straight. Every year, the only gift he got was that of pure, blissful oblivion, and a pounding headache the next morning.

Since settling in Jackson, it’s been harder to keep this information under wraps. Ellie somehow managed to needle out of Tommy when his birthday was, and had declared that Joel needed to pick a new birthday after realizing how depressing that date truly is. When Joel refused to comply with her demand, Ellie designated it herself as April second. She had found an astrology book on the road and had firmly decided that Joel was an aries, whatever that meant. 

That had been a few months ago, and Joel has just been hoping his annoyingly persistent companion has forgotten about her declaration. But when he meets his brother the morning of April second for their usual patrol shift, he quickly realizes he will not be so lucky.

“So, I’m under strict orders to wish you happy birthday, brother.” Joel thinks briefly that he’d like to smack the shit-eating grin off Tommy’s face, instead settling for a scowl and a huff.

“Goddamnit, was hoping she’d forgotten about that.” Tommy snorts, slapping Joel hard on the back.

“You should know by now, Joel. That one’s just about as stubborn as you.” 

… 

When he gets back to town after his shift, the rest of the afternoon is spent painfully responding to awkward birthday wishes, all said with the caveat that Ellie had told them to do it. Joel could throttle the kid by the time he gets home.

As he goes to open the door, however, it’s immediately slammed shut in his face, Ellie huffing on the other side.

“You can’t come in yet, old man! Just hold your horses!” Joel scrubs a hand down his face. 

“Ellie! I’m really not in the mood for this shit.”

“I don’t care! It’s your birthday and what I say goes! Now sit down on the porch, I’ll let you in when we’re ready.” He can’t believe this kid, but he’s a little too worn down to not heed her instructions. Besides, he tried the door again, and it seemed that she had slid a chair under the handle to keep it from budging. He settles into the rocking chair on the porch, closing his eyes for a spell, even dozing off in the cooling Spring night. 

He’s rather rudely awakened by Ellie kicking at his boots.

“Hey! Time to come in, old man. Got a real surprise for ya.” Joel groans as he stands from his seat, stiffly getting pulled inside by Ellie who immediately comes behind him on tip toes to cup her hands over his eyes.

“Ellie, would you please–”

“Shut it and walk, old man. It’s a surprise.” He huffs, begrudgingly letting her lead him through the house towards what he guesses is the kitchen. 

When Ellie finally peels her hands away from his face, Joel is shocked to see her standing there. The pretty, young neighbor who Joel sees teaching the kids in the makeshift schoolyard from time to time. They’d only shared passing conversation, he’d catch her sometimes out in the garden in her backyard in the evenings. She always offered him a wide smile when he’d say hello.

She’s holding what Joel realizes is a cake, or he guesses you could call it that. It’s a short, square little thing that they’ve stuck two, lit taper candles in. She’s smiling softly at him and he can’t take his eyes away from hers, a frozen moment of time. Ellie startles him when she shouts in his ear.

“Happy birthday, old man!” Whatever spell had been cast is now broken. Suddenly, Joel feels very overwhelmed and angry. He can’t quite figure out why, so he does the one thing that does make sense to him. He turns heel and stomps straight out the door, heading down the street and ignoring Ellie’s shouts of his name. It’s not his fucking birthday, and he’s sick of all this pretend shit.

…

He winds up down at the bar, and even though it’s not his birthday, he revives his old tradition of trying to drink himself under the table. He doesn’t get far though before his brother is sitting down across from him.

“Now tell me why Ellie showed up on my doorstep in a complete fit because some asshole fled his own damn birthday party.” Joel just sighs, hanging his head.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Nope, that doesn’t work for me. ‘Cause not only did you piss Ellie off, but I’m pretty sure you broke that sweet little thing’s heart.”

“I’d hardly call Ellie a sweet little–” “Fuck, Joel. I’m not talking about Ellie.” He huffs her name, raising his eyebrows at his brother, and Joel’s stomach churns. 

He hadn’t even been thinking about her, that shy smile she shared with him before he ran off. He thinks about the cake she had been balancing in her arms, that she had probably helped Ellie make it, put a lot of time and effort and resources into something he was too chickenshit to even acknowledge. Joel feels terrible, and he knows it’s not the booze talking. He brings his palms over his face, pressing his fingers lightly into his eyes, kneading at a quick-forming headache.

“Joel, no one’s saying you gotta enjoy your birthday. But I’m saying you gotta stop being a dick to people who are trying to care for you, man. Ellie may be a little… enthusiastic. But Christ, Joel, she loves you like a father.” Joel glances at Tommy, sighing.

“And that neighbor of yours. Well, if you can’t see a good thing when it’s right in front of you I’ll smack you around myself, maybe then you’ll see the way she looks at you.” Joel scoffs at that, shaking his head. He figures his brother is just trying to convince him to apologize to her. There’s no way in hell she’s actually been looking at him the way his brother is insinuating. She’s her, lovely and pretty and popular around town. And he’s him. Enough said.

“Alright, Tommy, alright. I’ll apologize to them, both. Just, fuck, get off my ass.” His brother smirks at him as Joel rises from the table. He’s had enough of people for the night.

“You better make it right, brother. And, hey, happy birthday you old shit.” Joel flips off his grinning brother, heading out into the darkening night towards home. 

…

As he nears his home he sees that all the lights are off. Ellie must have stomped off to a friend’s house, too pissed at him to stick around. He’s going to have some serious apologizing to do tomorrow. The glowing ember of a cigarette catches his eye on the porch next door. He can see her silhouette in the faint glow of light coming from her house’s windows. She’s sitting, wrapped in a blanket, taking long drags and letting the smoke wisp out harshly.

He doesn’t know why, but his feet carry him over to her house, she tilts her head at him where he stands at the steps of her porch.

“Well, Ellie and I thought you may have skipped town, you looked so upset in that kitchen.” She blows a billow of smoke out the corner of her mouth, watching him carefully. Joel clears his throat.

“Don’t know why you smoke those. S’no good for you.” She scoffs, but stamps out the butt of her cigarette beneath her boot.

“S’that all you came over here to say? My own little public service announcement?” He shakes his head, swallowing hard.

“Want to apologize. For earlier. I just– fuck– I wasn’t expecting that. Didn’t really know how to react.” She sighs looking off just over the top of his head. Joel wishes she’d meet his eyes again.

“It’s ok, Joel. It was stupid, really. Ellie asked for my help, and I like that kid. Wanted to do something nice for you. But I see now that it was silly.” Joel steps up onto the porch, trying to get a better look at her downturned face.

“It wasn’t stupid. I was stupid. What you did was real nice. I just– I’m not used to–” “Not being in constant life-threatening danger?” She quirks an eyebrow at him, he sighs. She scoots over on the bench seat, a silent invitation for him to join her. He does, sitting down with his elbows on his thighs, looking at her over his shoulder.

“I get it, really. I know that may be hard to believe. But I wasn’t always so lucky to be somewhere like Jackson.” She glances at him before looking back down at her hands in her lap.

“I had a little brother. Jack was his name. Back before, well before. He was only two years younger than me, and I never let him forget it. But damn I loved him. And he loved me. Every year, he insisted on being the one to make my birthday cake. And, Christ, they were bad. He’d get our mom to pick up the Betty Crocker mix from the store, you know? And the canned frosting. But he’d always manage to do something real weird to it.” She laughs lightly, but Joel can see the shimmer in her eyes.

“There was one year, he baked gummy worms into the cake. Fuck, it was so gross, the worms sort of melted into the batter so it was this sticky, rainbow mess. I told him it looked like a gnome had vomited on a platter.” Joel feels his mouth pulling up into a smile. She sighs.

“When I lost him… well, every year without him on that stupid day just reminds me that he’s gone.” She clears her throat before harshly swiping under her eyes.

“I don’t know why I told you all that. I guess just to say that I get it. And that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just figured it’d be nice for someone to have a good birthday” Joel sits back on the bench, letting his arm rest along the top of the chair behind her. 

“When is yours?” She finally turns and looks at him, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Your birthday, when is it?” Her face softens.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” His mouth quirks at that and he nods.

She leans into his side, cupping her hand over his ear conspiratorially and whispers the date to him. Joel’s breath hitches at the close contact. He hums when she leans back.

“You know, today isn’t my birthday, not really.” Her eyes widen at him, he laughs softly.

“It’s really, uh, September twenty-sixth, you know, the day that everything–” she brings one of her hands to rest on his knee, giving it a light squeeze.

“Yeah, I know. Can’t say I blame you for choosing a new one.” He snorts at that.

“Oh, I didn’t choose it.” She clicks her tongue, nodding and huffing a laugh at that, muttering Ellie’s name under her breath. She gives his knee another squeeze.

“Well, your secret is safe with me so long as mine is safe with you.” He nods, bringing his hand to rest on top of hers. She flips her palm and entwines their fingers. A warmth breaks out in Joel’s chest at the way her thumb strokes the side of his hand.

“C’mon. It’s still your not-birthday and I left that cake in your kitchen. Better not let it go to waste.”

…

That’s how Joel finds himself sitting at his dining room table, on a day that’s not his birthday, as the prettiest lady in Jackson lights candles in the cake she’s put in front of him.

“I’m not gonna sing to you, seeing as it’s not really your birthday. But go ahead and blow out the candles, handsome.” He feels like he’s going to break out in hives under her gaze. He’d be hard pressed to admit that he’s really just blushing at her words. He complies with her order.

She offers him a fork before sitting down next to him, and they both dig into the pan. Joel’s pleasantly surprised at his first bite and she grins around her fork at his reaction.

“There’s no sprinkles or frosting, but I’d say Ellie and I did a pretty good job, given the circumstances of course.” Joel hums.

“I can’t believe you went through all that effort. Don’t know the last time I had something like this.” She waves his words away.

“It’s not a big deal. Besides, how else was I supposed to woo you?” Joel chokes on the bite of cake he just swallowed. She giggles as he regains his composure, only slightly.

“Woo me? You’re trying to woo me?” She shrugs, going a little shy in her glances at him.

“I thought I was being obvious. But you don’t exactly make it easy, Joel Miller.” Joel’s dumbstruck at her words. He sits back in his chair.

“Christ– I just– why would you want anything to do with me?” She huffs, setting her fork down and resting her chin in her palm.

“Well, now that you ask, I don’t know. You were kind of an asshole this afternoon.” His face goes slack at that but she just laughs. It makes his heart kick in his chest.

“I’m kidding, Joel. But yeah, I may have been harboring a little crush on you since you moved in here.” Joel’s still speechless, he feels like his brain has been jostled around in his skull. She breaks the silence with a big yawn, checking her watch as she stretches.

“Well, I’ll let you chew on that, in more ways than one. I better head home.” She’s already standing and walking towards his front door and Joel is a bumbling mess as he follows behind her. He keeps trying to start to say something, but all that comes out is a stammered “I– you– uh– well.”

He finally manages to spit something out, “thank you, for the, um, not-birthday cake, and for everything.” Her mouth turns up in a lopsided smile. Joel’s brain finally seems to be back online, and he continues.

“I, um, wouldn’t be opposed to that. To you wooing me.” She crosses her arms over her chest, stepping closer to him.

“Oh, you wouldn’t?” Joel shakes his head.

“No. Uh, consider me wooed.” He’s rewarded with a grin from her and he’s got that warm feeling in his chest again.

“Hmm, well in that case–” She steps in a bit closer, bringing her palms to his chest and lifting up to press a quick kiss to his lips. Joel freezes for a moment, but he snaps out of it quick enough to bring his hands to her hips, dipping in to chase after her lips for a deeper, longer kiss.

She pulls away first, a bubble of laughter, before leaning back in for a chaste peck. He presses his forehead to hers. What she says comes out in a whisper.

“Happy not-really-your-birthday, Joel Miller. I’ll see you later.” She’s slipping out of his grasp and out his front door, not before hollering back at him to save some of the cake for Ellie. Joel stands, staring dumbly at the door, running his fingers over his mouth, searching for remnants of their kiss.

He thinks to himself that this has been the best not-real-birthday he’s had in a very long time.

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

[jamdoughnutmagician]

After All This Time

Eddie Munson x Reader

Silly little drabble based on this text post by @mantorokk-writes becasue I couldn't stop thinking about what a cute idea it was!! Maybe I strayed a little from the original prompt but 🤷‍♀️

Warnings:Nothing that I can think of, unless badly-written fluff counts?

Word Count:1,120

Masterlist Eddie Munson Masterlist

"Still can't believe you've kept it after all this time"

A shaggy mess of dark bouncy curls stomps up to the counter in the arcade before slamming down a handful of tickets and proudly pointing to the ring underneath the glass counter.

Eddie looks at you with his big brown eyes and an even bigger gap-toothed smile. You return his smile and nod your head, holding his hand in yours, your fingers inter-twining together.

“That one please!” he says to the older kid working behind the counter.

The ring he’s pointing to is a chunky pink ring with a big silver heart shaped gem in the centre of it.

The boy behind the counter hand the ring over Eddie 

“Here you go, kid.” the boy behind the counter smiles.

Eddie immediately grabs your left hand and slides the plastic ring over your ring finger.

“There!” he smiles brightly, his rosy freckled cheeks flush under the rainbow glow of the fluorescent arcade lights. “You have to wear this ring because you’re my girlfriend and I love you!”

You hold your hand out in front of you, admiring the ring in all its fake, plastic glory.

“Eddie!!” you giggle as you lean in to kiss him on the cheek. “I love it!”

“And when I’m old enough I’m gonna get you a real ring, and I’m gonna marry you, that way we can be best friends together forever.” he tells you with a confident nod of his head, his shaggy hair bouncing as he does.

You had moved away when you were nine years old and it had been tough on both you and Eddie. He was the closest thing that you had to a best friend and now you had to move away to Chicago because your dad had got a job there and moving there just made things easier. Despite Chicago being only a three hour drive away from Hawkins, in your young mind it might as well have been on the other side of the world. 

You promised to call each other every night, and so you did. Never wanting to miss out on hearing the sound of your best friend's voice as you swap stories about your days. The phone calls sometimes going on into the late hours of the evening up until the rasping voice of Uncle Wayne could be heard in the background, reminding Eddie that he was racking up a phone bill longer than his arm.

Of course you would visit each other each summer, one year Eddie and Wayne would make their way up to you, and the next; you and your family would spend some time back in Hawkins during the school's summer break.

As you got older you got closer. Closer than most best friends do. You had been each other’s first loves since you were children playing together in the schoolyard, and then as two giggling pre-teens holding hands in a dark movie theatre. You had been each other’s first kiss. It wasn’t anything special. It had been clumsy, and ungraceful as you bumped noses with each other, but it was sweet, and charming and most importantly it was you and your Eddie.

No matter how old you got, you always made time for each other. Last year Eddie had surprised you by coming down to visit you all by himself. Driving up in his van just to see you.

That summer you spent your time together watching the sun fall in the back of his van, counting the stars and getting lost in each other's touch. Holding each other close like you had always dreamed of.

You’d moved back to Hawkins after 10 years of living in Chicago, coming back to the town you grew up in all those years ago. 

The moment you got back you immediately made your way down to the very familiar site of Forest Hills trailer park. Stepping towards the old tattered door of the Munson trailer you knock your fist against the door excitedly.

You giggle to yourself at the grumbling voice you hear walking towards the door on the inside, grouching about "who the hell would be knocking our door at this time of day?"

The door swings open, and there he is. The boy that you fell in love with all those summers ago. 

"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, immediately bringing you into an almost bone-crushing hug.

"I'm back!" You smiled broadly "..and I'm back for good this time! Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you, Eddie?" You teased.

“I can’t believe you’ve kept it after all this time.” Eddie said, nodding his head towards the small plastic ring that you’ve got hanging on a chain around your neck. "I mean, we were kids when I won that for you." He smiles, playfully nudging your arm 

“You won it for me, so it’s special to me” you smiled as you toyed the ring hanging around your neck. "I remember you telling me that as long as I had this ring, we were going to be together forever." You say, catching his eyes in a quick glance. 

"I also remember saying something about giving you a real ring, sweetheart.." 

Oh he remembered that moment just as well as you had done. He'd been thinking about it, about you ever since. 

Sliding the clunky metal skull ring off his finger, he takes your hand in his and slides the ring over your finger.

"It doesn't have to mean anything now, but I love you, I've always loved you and I just want you to have this."

It doesn't have to mean anything now. 

But it does. It means everything to you. You knew you loved him, you always had done. Just as he'd loved you, you loved him just the same.

You smile down at the large chunky ring on your finger, and a small tear escapes the corner of your eye, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions. 

"It's perfect." You tell him, before leaning into him, placing the most gentle of kisses against his plush pink lips. 

You feel him smile against your lips, his arms wrapping around you, to pull you deeper into the kiss like he's always longed to do.

"You know, this one was always my favourite one of your rings" you grin.

Oh yeah, you were the girl for him. No doubt about it. He was going to marry you one day for sure. Eddie knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he could never imagine his future without you in it, he didn’t want to imagine it. He wanted to be with you forever and always, and he could only hope that you felt the same.

@sunflowerdaydreamer @munsonology @xxhellfiregirlxx @i-me-mine @penguinsandpotterheads @galaxy-siren

#Eddie Muson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Muson x reader fluff #Eddie Munson x female reader fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine