#solidarity x reader

[writeawaythepain]

That Funny Feeling

Jimmy Solidarity x (gn!reader)

…Hey! I’m not dead! And I finally have the urge to write again! Hope you enjoy my spiral into a new fandom!

tw: self-deprecating thoughts, angst (don’t worry there’s a fluff at the end)

Word count: 1.7k

Prompts:

“You are worthy of love and friends and respect.”

"why do you care!" "because i’m in love with you!"

Summary:

You walk in on Jimmy having beef with a fence post, and though you're not really surprised, you wonder if he’s dealing with more pain than just that of his injured foot. Includes you giving the poor guy a much needed hug, and a slip-up that lets him in on how much you really care about him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You don’t think you’ve ever really seen Jimmy upset…not really. He never minded being the butt of any joke, laughing along at any jab or insult. He didn’t mind if people made fun of him as long as it made someone laugh at the end. He was selfless like that. You were always a little bit jealous of his resilience, and maybe that’s why you always thought of him as almost…invincible.

So, when one day you came to check up on how the Sheriff’s new building was going, you were surprised to see that barely any progress had been done. It actually…seemed like he’d torn parts of it down. You approached slowly, taking in the half done walls and foundation, a door frame without a door, and started to look for him. 

Before you can even call out to him, though, you see the back of a familiar blonde cowboy. A cowboy who was seemingly talking to himself. “No- come on Jim! You know you can do better at this- you just gotta… just gotta…” He stops, clenching his fists and yelling out in frustration. “It’s not that hard!” He emphasizes the last word by kicking a rickety fence post, but it must have been sturdier than he expected because he instantly flinched back, grabbing his foot and crying out in pain.

The whole sight was almost cartoonish, with him wearing his cowboy hat and boots, so you couldn’t help but snicker even as you reached out your hand in concern. “Oh my god Jimmy, are you ok?” You can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face, but it wavers slightly as you approach him and notice…are those tears in his eyes? He quickly wipes his face, replacing his frustrated look with an excited smile. 

“Oh hi! I didn’t even see you there! Me and this fence post are having beef, actually- See, it won’t do what I tell it to, and make my stuff look good so I was reminding ‘em who's in charge round here!” He laughs a little as he says it, his smile so bright you're inclined to believe him…it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes though, and you still wonder if the kick hurt him more than he was letting on.

“Yea, you really showed him!” You try to mirror his energy, shaking off some of your worries as he replies in his usual chipper tone.

“Yea I did!” He laughs but then slightly turns away from you. “Listen uh…you know I always love having you around. You’re welcome anytime! But uh…I really have a- a thing I gotta do and…” Your smile drops as you see him wince a little as he puts his weight on the foot he ‘beat up’ the fence post with.

“Hey Jimmy, is your foot ok?” You walk up to him, concerned. “Maybe you should sit down-“

“Nah I’m fine…probably anyway.” He laughs like it’s a joke, but when you look at him you're not smiling.

“You're limping. You might not have broken anything but- here, sit down.” You gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s really nothing, I’m just being an idiot...” He moves away from your touch, shaking it off and puffing up his chest a little. He tries to shoot you a smile again, but it did little to aid your concerns.

“Just, let me take a look at it? Maybe I can help-“ You start, a little frustrated at his stubbornness.

“But I don’t need help! I can take care of it myself! I just- I just stubbed my toe. I’ll be fine!” You sigh, giving him a weird look, but deciding not to push it.

“…why were you beefing with the fence post anyway…did it kill your grandma?” You joke, hoping to fix the awkward air that had somehow come between the two of you. It’s weird, you’d never felt awkward talking with him before.

Instead of responding, Jimmy just turned towards his half finished building. And stood there. After a while he finally spoke. “Listen I’m, kinda busy right now. Maybe you can come back another time?” …Alright that’s it-

“Ok Jimmy, what is up with you? I came here to see your build, which looks less finished than when I saw it days ago may I add, and instead I see you kicking a fence post, getting defensive when I try to help, and now you don’t even laugh at my Trolls joke? …ok maybe it's an old meme but still-“ You chuckle, still kind of hoping he’d just turn around and start acting normal again. You’ve never seen him act like this before.

All he did was stand there…and as the silence grew longer you couldn’t help but start to get worried. “Gosh…I really am useless.” He finally says.

You almost roll your eyes, “Your not useless Jim-“ 

“Yes- yes I am!” He says it so firmly you freeze. You’ve never heard him raise his voice like that before. 

“I can’t build, I can’t fight, I can’t even be the guy who smiles all the time! I’m- I’m basically worthl-“ He stops himself. “…and I don’t know why I’m telling you this- I’m sorry.“ You're so surprised by his words you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-“ He takes his hat off of his head and grips it in his hands. “It’s so stupid- I’m so stupid. It shouldn’t be this hard for me to just-“ His grip on the hat tightens.

“…Jimmy, you are not worthless. You don’t have to smile all the time to be the brightest ray of sunshine I know. You could probably make me see the silver lining of getting stabbed for god's sake-“ You almost laugh at your own words, hoping it would get through to him. “You are worthy of love and friends and respect. And I’m sorry I don’t tell you that enough.” You walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He slowly spins around, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I’m just being a baby-”

“No, no you're not. It’s ok to- to feel bad sometimes.” You interrupt gently before he can insult himself again.

“Why- why do you even care?” His voice wavers, and now you can see the tears streaming out of his eyes. 

“Because I love you…you idiot.” Jimmy freezes, and even you are a little surprised at your own words, but it’s true. “People care about you- I care about you! I don't care that you can’t build giant castles or fight dragons, or that you get mad or sad sometimes-“ Your rambling a bit, trying to recover from the bombshell you just dropped. Jimmy was just staring at you, eyes wide. 

“…you…love me? Like…love, love me?!” He says slowly, not really paying attention to anything else you said after.

“I- this is probably not the best time to just- but, yea. I really do.” You can’t help but look down as you admit it, and when you look back up at him he’s crying all over again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

He steps forward and wraps you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder. You hug him back, rubbing his back and giving him some words of encouragement. Slowly his sobs get quieter, and eventually he pulls away from the hug.

“Um…” He sniffs. “I know I probably look like a mess right now-“

“Just a little.” You tease gently, wiping a stray tear off of his face.

“Right- but um…I love you too. Just so you know.” He avoids your eyes as he says it, then looks directly into them, gauging your reaction, as if to ensure this wasn’t all a joke.

“Like…?” You start.

“Yea…like that.” He gently bumps his forehead against yours, his regular confident smile returning to his face. “I cannot believe you fell for my Sheriff rizz.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Don’t- don’t say rizz-” You try to suppress a giggle, pretending to be upset. “Great, now you ruined the moment.”

His bravado instantly drops, “Wait. No wait I didn’t mean to-” You shut him up by yanking his neckerchief and planting a kiss on his cheek. “To…to…” His face slowly reddens as his brain catches up to his speeding heart.

“Fixed it.” You say simply, chuckling softly as your Sheriff still reboots. “I think I’m the one with the rizz~” You laugh.

“Yea, no I see how that ruins the moment.” You laugh even harder at his reaction, and he can’t help but join in. After a few moments, you end up gazing into his bright hazel eyes.

“You know you can always talk to me when you're feeling upset.” You say seriously, taking one of his hands with both of your own. “Don’t just…no one should be alone when they're feeling like that.”

“...I know…You're right, as always.” He smiles appreciatively, grabbing one of your hands with his free one. You both stand there, swaying your interlocked hands gently back and forth, just enjoying the other's company.

“You know, when you're feeling up to it, why don’t I help you finish this…” You look over the half finished building, realizing you had no idea what it was actually supposed to be.

“Barn. It’s – ” he sighs, as if even bringing it up makes him feel tired all over again, “ – ‘supposed to be a barn.” 

“Barn! Right, and we could even ask Joel to help.” His eyes widen.

“No! You can’t tell him- Oh my god I’d never hear the end of it!” You laugh at the urgency in his voice.

“Ok! Ok. It’ll just be me. I’ll help you…” You let go of his hands and instead interlock your fingers behind his neck. “It’ll be our little secret.” He gazes into your eyes with a look only comparable to a lovesick puppy.

“Gosh I really wanna kiss you right now-” He lets out with a whisper, and then it’s your turn to get a little flustered.

“Well…then kiss me cowboy.” You lean in and he meets you halfway, and the kiss is just as sweet as the blonde Sheriff you share it with.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[logan368]

now taht i know you're requests are open, could you maybe write a solidarity x reader from empires 2 where the hermits visit tumble town and reader hears about it, goes to say hi and they're like kind of 'close' with one of th hermits (doesnt matter who) and then jimmy gets a little jealous and then theres just fluff :) (if you'd be okay with it, feel free to change otherwise) <3

Yes ofc! I love the idea! Thank you! Sorry it took so long to post. I going through something personal, and then I just ended up going inactive. But here you go!

You're ridiculous (solidarity x gn!reader)

You knocked at the door of your neighbor from tumble town Jimmy. You had come over for some gunpowder as his shop is empty as always what a shocker. The door opened and he smiled.

"Well howdy partner what brings you here to Tumble Town?"

"Well I came here for gunpowder but a certain someone," You put heavy emphasis on certain someone, "doesnt keep his shop stocked full." You looked at the sheriff unamused.

His face became a light shade of pink in embarrassment that he was called out for his shop never being stocked by you. "I'm sorry, we can fly over to Joey's farm and I'll provide you some gunpowder."

You chuckled softly. "Hey I'm only messing with you but let's go." Were your plans before you heard a rumble of some sorts. "What was that?" You turned and looked at the sheriff who shrugged in return.

"I have no idea. It was probably no big deal." He shrugged it off. As you both continued with your already made plans to get gunpowder.

On the flight back you grabbed some gunpowder and helped Jimmy restock his shop. "In all seriousness, keep your shop stocked for Joel's sake."

He rolled his eyes at you. "Dont speak of that little wannabe God's name in my empire." To which you just rolled your eyes in turn.

"Joel, Joel, Joel." You giggled seeing Jimmy get all riled up was such a fun thing to do.

"You called?" Joel flew down being followed by a mysterious figure that you didn't recognize.

Jimmy let out a distressed yell. "Y/N! Look at what you've started! Now HES here in MY EMPIRE and he's gonna start something."

"Well Jimmy what a toy way to introduce our new guest." Joel rolls his eyes and the figure behind him goes to introduce himself, but before he could you tackled him in a hug.

"Scar! Oh it's been forever since I saw you last. What are you doing here? How are the others?" You threw questions at your old hermitcraft buddy for explanation you joined hermitcraft for season 6 and the start of 7 but got busy and ended up leaving and joining empires.

Scar chuckled slightly pushing you off of him. "Well, first off. Hello Y/N it's a pleasure to see you again. I dont know how I got here, see I walked through a portal with Grian and the others, and the others are great, they're around somewhere."

"I'll have to look around for them, see I was here in tumble town for some gunpowder, then I had to go on a quest because SOMEONE, not to name names or anything, never has their shop stocked." You explained to Scar. "Ooh! You'll have to let me show you around to the places Joel hasn't shown you yet!"

"Oh! Is that Y/N?" A familiar voice said walking into view. You looked up and saw Grian.

"Oh, hi G!" You waved at him.

Jimmy glared at Grian. "YOU??!?!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Grian smiled and walked over towering over Jimmy menacingly. "Guess you'll never escape me Timmy. I'm always here, every smp you'll never be safe."

"Well that doesn't matter," he pulled you away from Scar. "As Y/N likes me better than you, which is why they chose to stay on empires!"

"Hey! I never said that!" You gave a stern look to the sheriff. "I just haven't had the time to talk to X about rejoining. It has nothing to do with me liking you guys better than the hermits."

Jimmy blushed in embarrassment as he let go of you. "You can't say things like that Jim!"

"I'm gonna go show Scar around and catch up with him because he asked me to. Then I have all the time to spend with you." You smiled and flicked Jimmy's nose. Before heading off with Scar which caused Jimmy to have a sad pang of jealousy in his heart.

Scar and Y/N caught up after not having talked to him in such a long time. They ended up running into some of the hermits and caught up with them. It started to get late so they waved bye to their friends and flew back to Tumble Town.

They walked into the room to see Jimmy pouting. "You know, you're incredibly ridiculous right?" Y/N shook their head as they went over and wrapped their arms around Jimmy pulling him into a hug. Jimmy hugged back. He didn't say anything to Y/N so they just sighed and ended up cuddling the night away. "You know you'll always be my favorite Sheriff Jimmy Solidarity." You smiled kissing his cheek

He blushed "Yeah, I know, and you'll always be my favorite deputy, Y/N L/N."

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 2

Summary - After his mother's death in 115 AC Y/N Targaryen is summoned by his father Daemon to King's Landing in the hopes of forming a betrothal between the new heir to Runstone and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Warnings - description (?) of skinning a deer, general HOTD warnings

I am not trying to make Daemon a bad guy, in fact (Y/N) is a bit of an unreliable narrator so take a lot of his bias against Daemon and others with a grain of salt.

(Y/N) watched with a small smile as Phantom ate the chunks of red meat the young lord tossed his way. (Y/N) set his knife aside the dead deer, and he whistled for the hawk to come to him. Ever loyal, the bird obeyed, perching comfortably on (Y/N)’s shoulder. He raised his hand to Phantom, guiding him to his perch and stroking the soft feathers before returning back to his deer. 

(Y/N) skinned his deer in peace, Osric Stone the only one interrupting the young lord with his coming and goings. 

“Your grandsire worries for you.” Osric popped a grape from (Y/N)’s plate into his mouth. 

(Y/N) laughed, pulling the top half of the skin over the deer before starting back in with his knife. “And how would you know? I don’t recall my grandsire taking counsel in the stable.” 

Osric shrugged, “A baseborn son goes unnoticed by you lords, I hear lots of things I’m not meant to.”  

(Y/N) shot Osric an honest smile, pausing his movements to turn to look at the dark-haired teen. Osric returned his smile, stepping close to (Y/N). “And what exactly do you hear Osric?” 

Osric leaned in, stopping close enough for the young heir to feel his breath against his skin, “I hear that your grandsire is worried about you, as am I.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, pulling back which caused Osric to straighten stepping back into his place. “I am fine, Osric, I feel better than I have since my mother-” He paused, clearing his throat. “You needn't worry.” 

“You isolate yourself (Y/N),” Osric insisted, “You spend your time sparing and hunting, you do not see to Runestone-” 

“I am not Lord of Runestone.” 

“But you will be.” Osric stepped close again, placing his hand on (Y/N)'s bicep causing the heir to once again stop his movements, “And it’s your duty as heir to learn these things. You can not just forgo your duties because you’re angry.” 

“I told you what he did.” (Y/N) placed his knife down, mourning his moment of peace. “What he plotted with Daemon to do.” 

“He did not plot with Daemon-” 

“What would you call it?” (Y/N) shook his head, biting out a disbelieving laugh. 

“I would call it your grandsire being Lord of Runestone while your father is a prince of the realm.” Osric said, “I do not need to explain to you, My Prince, what power titles can grant you do I?” 

“Don’t call me that.” (Y/N) froze, “I am not a prince, I am to be Lord of Runestone.” 

“And yet you remain a prince. Denying it will not make it any less true.” Osric laughed at him, shaking his head. He gathered his things from where they were placed. “I will take my leave, M’lord.” 

Osric left him alone with his dead deer, his hawk, and his thoughts. Sighing (Y/N) set, once again, upon his task. He spent the rest of the afternoon in silence only interrupted by the soft screechs of Phantom begging for more scraps. 

He let the winds wash over him as he worked, cool air calming his mind. He let the worries of his grandsire and Osric flee his mind as he mindlessly pulled skin from meat and joints. He placed his father and his true title at the back of his mind, letting his knife seamlessly sever the tail bone and the hide fell away completely. He would not let a title spoken by a friend ruin his day, and he would not let Daemon Targaryen anger him further. The prince had no right to (Y/N)’ emotions. 

(Y/N) bathed his hands in the water basin, watching the water turn crimson around his skin. Phantom screeched behind him, startling (Y/N). He turned to look at the hawk, only to startle further as a louder screech echoed through the air. He looked up at the sound, movements halting at the sight of The Blood Wyrm flying overhead. 

Prince Daemon had come to collect his son.

“A raven would not have sufficed?” (Y/N) smiled down at the parchment in his hands. 

‘Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone, is formally summoned to Kingslanding by King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm.’ 

“You can ignore a raven.” 

“Does it not embarrass you?” (Y/N) placed the parchment on the table, meeting his father’s pointed gaze, “To have to come to collect me like I am a common criminal? Tell me, father, what did you tell my uncle to get him to write this?” 

He saw his grandsire wince behind him, “(Y/N) please.” 

Daemon Targaryen was an intimidating man. His campaign in the step stones had done nothing to soften his features, his violet eyes were sharp and cutting as they bore into (Y/N)’s matching pair. Although his hair was significantly shorter than the last time the two had come face to face Daemon’s white hair still stood strikingly against his dark wardrobe, and the shorter haircut only intensified his sharp features. 

Yorbert was right to fear him, (Y/N) mused. But (Y/N) was his son, and a man grown, Daemon did not scare him anymore. 

“You are to come with me back to Kingslanding.” Daemon’s lip curled as he spoke, giving away his frustration. “By order of The King.” 

“I do believe the exact words were ‘formal summon’ not order.” 

Yorbert glared at his grandson, “(Y/N)-” 

“Lord Yorbert, please leave us.” 

(Y/N) watched as his grandsire obediently left the room, he could feel his father’s gaze linger on him and he met his eyes when the door softly clicked shut. His father walked toward the seat across from him, placing his palms on its back. (Y/N) watched as his father took a deep breath before facing his son once again. 

“What are your intentions, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) laughed, unable to help himself. “My intentions?” 

“Yes, (Y/N) your intentions. You are a prince of the realm, and yet when I summon you to do your duties you respond like an insolent child!” 

(Y/N) scoffed, standing up and running his hands through his hair, “‘My duties’? My duties are here on Runestone father, they are not to be a political bargaining tool for you and the lords of my uncles’ court!” 

Daemon’s face contorted in anger at his sons mention of Runestone, volume raising, “You are a Targaryen prince-” 

“I am the future Lord Royce of Runestone!” (Y/N) yelled back. 

His father’s knuckles were white with strain as his grip on the back of the chair tightened. He laughed in disbelief at (Y/N). “I have let these lords fill your mind with poison for too long. You will come to Kingslanding, and you will start to act like the dragon you are.” 

“You’re the one who left father, do not blame those who raised your son when you would not.” 

“Is that what that bronze bitch-” 

“Do not call her that!” (Y/N) seethed, knocking the pitcher off the table in his rage sending wine spilled over the tile floor, “She was everything I had while you were off fucking your whores and fighting your wars! You do not get to show up after years of absence and demand my obedience and respect!” 

“I am your sire, I deserve your respect.” 

“You have not earned it.” 

Daemon laughed, causing (Y/N) to anger further, “Kostā deny ziry tresy, yn iksā hae olvie iā zaldrīzes hae aōha ancestors.” 

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened at the ancient language, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of understanding his words. “I wish you a safe flight back to Kingslanding father, for you will be alone.” 

(Y/N) made for the door to the room, hand pausing on the door knob at his father’s next words. 

“I will be flying back tomorrow (Y/N), but not alone.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, turning around to retort the statement but the smug smile on his father’s face made any witty statement die on his tongue, “What.” 

“Your grandsire has already given me leave to return with you to Kingslanding.” Daemon said, folding his hands behind his back, “Now go pack your things, we leave on the morrow.”

“He hoped I would obey!” Thunk. 

“He said he ‘hoped I would obey’ and yet he gave Daemon leave to take me anyways!” Thunk. 

“Should you not be packing cousin?” Ser Gerold watched as his young cousin loosed arrow after arrow into the already abused target. 

“He let me stand there and argue knowing my words were void and my wants were worthless.” Thunk. 

“You should be saying your goodbyes (Y/N) ,” Gerold sighed, “I know you consider the stable boy your friend, and no matter your qualms with Lord Yerbort-” 

(Y/N) whipped around, seething, “Did you not hear me? He has betrayed me, he is handing his only heir to the rats of Kingslanding.” 

“He did not betray you, cousin.” 

(Y/N) had immediately gone to find his grandsire after leaving his father. Begging him to claim his father’s words as false, only for his grandsire to sigh and speak (Y/N)’s worst fear. 

“He is telling true my boy.” 

(Y/N) paled, “But- no. No, you said it was my choice.”

His grandsire sighed, refusing to meet his heir’s eyes, “This is a royal summons from The King, (Y/N). I cannot brush off your uncle as I can your father. I did hope you would obey and it would not come to my command but you are more Daemon than you know (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) had left him after that, ignoring his pleas for him to stay as he slammed the door. Gerold had found him in the yard an hour later, the sun had started to drift past the tree line, leaving the yard shadowed as (Y/N) stewed. 

“I have no love for your father, but Lord Yorbert is right. Your grandsire is Lord of Runestone, your uncle is King, he cannot just disobey his summons, and neither can you try as you might.” 

“This is my father’s scheme, and his alone.” (Y/N) scoffed, returning to his target, and notching another arrow. 

“Well I’m sure you will uncover it soon enough, but you will do so in Kingslanding.” Ser Gerold gave him an apologetic smile, “I will be sad to see you go cousin.” 

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile back, “Maybe if I do not pack I can delay.” 

His cousin laughed, “Your father will be taking you to Kingslanding on the morrow (Y/N). He will drag you to Kingslanding himself and call for your things later if he must.” 

“You are more Daemon than you know (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) paused, calling out to Ser Gerold, “Do you think I am like my father, cousin?” 

Ser Gerold paused, eyes widening at the question. He steeled himself, fixing his expression before giving (Y/N) a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I will send some maids to help pack your things, you should rest, (Y/N). You have a long journey ahead of you.” 

And with that Ser Gerold left the young heir in the yard. 

The sun had fully set when (Y/N) finally returned to the keep. They had already packed most of his things by the time he’d entered his chambers. The room was sad to look at, a lifetime of memories and collected contents packed away into tiny chests in mere hours. He sighed to himself and stripped from his outer clothes, folding them and placing them on a chair as he began packing the things the maids hadn’t touched. When he was satisfied with his work he called for a servant, asking for a plate of food and wine to be brought to him. 

“Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble can you please summon Osric Stone to my chambers.” 

Thirty minutes later there was a knock at his chamber doors. 

“Come in.” 

“I hear you’re leaving on the morrow.” 

(Y/N) turned, locking eyes with the stable boy who had a plate of food and wine in his hands. Osric places them down on the table, giving (Y/N) a sad look. 

(Y/N) nodded, “My grandfather has given Daemon his permission.” 

“So this is goodbye?” 

(Y/N) stood, walking toward his closest friend. He shook his head, taking Osric’s hand in his, “I will return, whatever noble lady I am to marry will be the Lady of Runestone, she should live here with me.” 

“You do not yet know who you’re to be betrothed to?” Osric raised an eyebrow. 

“No,” (Y/N) mused, taking Osric’s face in hand, “I did not ask, it does not matter. I will do my duty as husband and that is it.” 

Osric let out a bitter laugh, stepping back from (Y/N), “You will do your duty? You will not try to love her?” 

“It doesn’t matter-” 

“You will spend your life with this girl, (Y/N). You should try to find happiness in the marriage.” 

“I find my happiness with you, that is enough.” 

Osric laughed, shaking his head at the boy. “I am not coming with you (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) took a step toward the stable boy, once again taking his hands in his, “You could, say the word and I will take you with me.” 

“My place is here, (Y/N).” 

“And so is mine.” 

Osric smiled softly, “Yes, but your place is the future Lord of Runestone, mine is as a stable hand.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to retort but Osric continued on, “You knew this (Y/N), you have always known this. As you have always known you would have to marry some lady from a noble family and have children of your own to be future vale lords. 

“I do care for you (Y/N).” Osric placed his hand on the boy's cheek, “But our paths in life will never cross.” 

He placed a chaste kiss on (Y/N)’s cheek, “I wish you luck on your journey M’lord.” 

For the second time that night (Y/N) was left standing alone. 

The size of the host his grandsire had prepared was pitiful. There were maybe five of the household guards, the rest of the host made up of maids and serving boys. There was one carriage, if it could be called that, awaiting him in the yard. The rest of the transport consisted of wagons carrying chests and the guards' horses. 

“If my grandsire is insistent on sending me away, the least he could do is provide sufficient transport.” (Y/N) sneered, placing the last of his things into a wagon, and turning to Ser Gerold. 

Before his cousin could reply his father and grandsire entered the yard. Ser Gerold straightened, posture stiffening at the sight of The Rogue Prince. His father looked amused at the sight of his son by the wagons. 

‘He would take pleasure in this farce’, (Y/N) thought. 

“What are you doing?” His father smiled at him. 

“Packing my things.” (Y/N) replied, “I will need clothes in Kingslanding will I not?” 

His father laughed, a genuine laugh that made (Y/N) uneasy, “Funny. No, I mean why are you packing it into that?” 

“Where else would I put it?” (Y/N) furrowed his brow, he could not decipher the tone of his father’s words, but he did not appreciate being made a fool of. 

“With your horse.” Daemon replied, pointing his head in the direction of the stables where sure enough horses and a smaller wagon were being prepped, “You will be returning to Kingslanding with me.” 

‘With him?’ (Y/N) thought, looking to his grandsire for an explanation, ‘He cannot mean-’ 

“On dragon-back?” (Y/N) paled, “I cannot- but-” 

(Y/N) looked to his grandsire, seeing no surprise in his expression. Why would there be? The pitiful host was not to escort his heir but to escort the lesser of his belongings, he was getting a proper escort- a Targaryen dragon. 

“Unpack the most important things,” His father instructed, “The rest will reach Kingslanding later.” 

Then his father departed for the stables himself, leaving (Y/N) with his cousin and grandsire. 

“Goodluck cousin,” His cousin wrapped him in his arms, “We will await your return eagerly.” 

He smiled at his cousin as he released him, “Thank you, Gerold.” 

Ser Gerold ruffled his hair like he did when (Y/N) was a boy, and (Y/N) swatted at his hand. His cousin left laughing, taking some of (Y/N)’s chests with him over to the stables as he walked away. (Y/N) turned to his grandsire, who smiled at him, stepping close to his heir. 

“I am sad to see you go, my boy.” 

“I do not have to leave grandsire,” (Y/N) clasped his grandsire’s hands,“I can stay here.” 

“You and I both know that is no longer an option, (Y/N).” Yorbert eyes watered, he unraveled their hands, and placed his palm to his grandson’s smooth cheek, “I am sorry my boy, truly I am, but this is how it must be.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, trying to pull away. 

“Please,” Yorbert grasped him harder, preventing the teen from stalking away. “I do not wish to part ways with you angry at me, (Y/N). I need you to understand I had no choice, I cannot deny the king. But after this business, you will return to Runestone and this will all be in the past.” 

“This business is my marriage,” (Y/N) said, “I cannot leave that in the past.” 

“No, I suppose you cannot.” Yorbert sighed, releasing the teen. 

“I am still angry,” (Y/N) said, and Yorbert nodded. 

“I-” 

“But I understand why you did it.” He was still impossibly angry at his grandsire, but he knew how long his business in Kinglanding could take, and he did not wish to part for so long on ill terms. Yorbert smiled, hugging his grandson. He placed a frail hand on the back of (Y/N)’s head, confirming to (Y/N) that he made the right choice.

“That is all I can ask for.” 

He and Daemon departed with few riders accompanying them. Daemon brought little with him to Runestone, all of his things placed in his horse’s saddlebags. He looked smug atop his horse, too smug for (Y/N)’s liking and he yearned to knock the white-haired man from his horse. All thoughts of his anger disappeared as they approached Caraxes, quickly replaced with trepidation. 

Caraxes roared, his breath blowing (Y/N)’s hair in all directions and (Y/N) halted his horse. He stared at the large red beast, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest. The workers, as nervous as he was, transferred his things from the wagon to the dragon’s saddlebags as (Y/N) stood there motionless. 

He watched his father approach the beast, placing his hand atop his snout, his father seemed to whisper to Caraxes before motioning for (Y/N) to approach. 

“Come,” Daemon said, eyes uncharacteristically soft. 

(Y/N) dismounted, approaching The Blood Wyrm with trepidation. Caraxes shifted, eyes peering dangerously into the young prince’s eyes, causing (Y/N) to freeze in place; just a few feet away from the beast. Daemon whispered comfort to the dragon, urging his son closer. 

“Give him your hand, he won’t hurt you,” Daemon smiled. “You are a dragon lord, (Y/N). Remember that.” 

“I have never touched a dragon, father, let alone ridden one.” (Y/N) stepped closer, hand shaking as he placed it close to the red dragon's snout. Caraxes stiffened, sniffing the hand, before sighing contently and placing the tip of his nose to the boy's hand, not unlike a cat. He smiled softly to himself at the thought. 

Daemon was pleased, that much was obvious by the look on his face, “You are a dragon (Y/N), no matter what you wish to believe.” 

---

Translations:

“Kostā deny ziry tresy, yn iksā hae olvie iā zaldrīzes hae aōha ancestors.”  - "You may deny it, son, but you are as much a dragon as your ancestors."

[pfhwrittes]

have some domestic price x gender neutral reader fluff that floated into my head.

pairing: john price x gender neutral reader

word count: 711

tags/triggers: domesticity, fluff, humour, pet names (love), mild bashing of the reader character's sister, slightly older than canon john price, long term relationship, no Y/N, 2nd person POV.

a/n: unedited as per usual. please don't interact with my writing if you're under the age of 18 despite this being a fluffy little something. also, i'm not judging people that want to get married or have kids, you do you but this is for those of us that don't want either of those things.

"john, what do you think about getting married?" you ask as casually as possible between sips of tea as your long term partner perches on the sofa next to you, his eyes focused on the liverpool game on the telly.

"i think you called it a "monument to compulsive monogamy and heterosexuality" and then you swore loudly about henry the eighth for twelve minutes on our first date." he replies before groaning loudly as his team bungle a free kick.

you smile into the rim of your mug because, yes you did say and do that when he brought it up all those years ago.

"mm, i know. one of my better rants i think."

john's hiss of triumph as one of the little red shirts on the screen peters off into discontented grumbling as half time is called and you place your mug on the coffee table.

john turns to face you when you settle back into the deep cushions and you trace the salt-and-pepper in his beard with loving eyes. if there's one thing you can say about retired captain john price it's that he's only got better with age, much like the whiskey he has stashed in the spare room/office. forty six is a damned good look on this man.

"what's got you asking about marriage, love?" john questions you with a raised eyebrow and you grumble, curse your overly observant partner. even when he's distracted his mind is still turning over every interaction and sniffing out a motive.

you sigh.

"my sister is having a baby."

"christ, really?" he looks so scandalised that you laugh at his expression. it's a familiar one when the topic of your younger sister is brought up, a combination of bafflement and mild disgust that pulls his mouth down into a frown even as his eyebrows reach up towards his hairline.

"mm." you make a noise of agreement.

"with the estate agent?"

"yep." you pop the 'p' obnoxiously.

"christ. she's only known him for five minutes," he shakes his head disapprovingly before reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze, "but what does this have to do with us getting married, hm?"

you shrug a little helplessly as he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

"i don't know, i just started thinking when she sent me a copy of her scan and -"

"of course she did." john interrupts you with a weary sigh. "your sister is nothing but a self centred cow and i'm positive she sent it to you to get you to feel bad."

he looks at you, pinning you in place with a fond sort of sternness that you had seen a few times before when kyle had been over for dinner espousing his worries about being the right man for the job.

"listen to me when i say this, yeah?" he taps your knuckles with his thumb gently to make sure you're fully focused on him, "i'm happy exactly as we are, love. i don't need a bit of paper telling me that we're bound together for the rest of eternity. god knows we already are, what with the mortgage and the bloody cat."

"be nice john, she's a sweetheart." you chide as you glance over at your middle aged tortoiseshell moggy curled up on the armchair.

"she's a bloody demon and you know it." john snorts good-naturedly as the cat in question makes a noise similar to a creaky gate at the sound of his voice.

he releases your hand so that he can reel you into his side to press a kiss to your temple.

"stop trying to distract me with the cat and stop focusing on your bloody sister. you've never wanted to get married and that's one of the reasons i love you, you silly arse."

the small knot of worry you'd been carrying since the start of the conversation unwinds and you release a long breath, taking the opportunity to snuggle into his side more comfortably.

"i love you too."

john simply presses another kiss your temple in response as the football match starts again and you settle in to enjoy an evening with your not-husband.

(tomorrow you'll threaten him with a rolled up tea towel after you find that he texted your sister off your phone calling her baby scan a "badly made lasagne".)

[inknopewetrust]

[searenbound]

“You know you have a type right?”

“What I know is that you’re full of shit”

“Seriously you’re gonna look at them and tell me you don’t”

Bakugou looks over to you where you’ve stuck a bottle of water between your tits, just because you were curious if you could you said, and letting Kirishima drink from it with a straw.

.… shit, he did have a type, cute and a little dumb

“Oh fuck off!”

“Hey it’s not my fault you’re dating a himbo and a bimbo! You’re the one with a type!”

[seoafin]

pairing: fushiguro toji & reader / side pairing stsg x reader an installment to the exposure therapy au warnings/tags: mentions of sex work/escorting, gambling, don't read if weird teacher/student dynamics squick you nothing is meant to be romantic and toji is a shitty teacher word count: ~4.7k

-

“So,” Toji says, eyeing your lone figure in the classroom with a raised eyebrow. “Just you today huh.”

You look up from your book at him, and then your gaze circles the empty room, the three unoccupied desks next to yours make the room feel emptier, bigger. Sorry to disappoint, you think. He’s not the only one. “Just me,” you reply plainly.

Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko aren’t here. The three of them are in Fukuoka. Before they left, Satoru had boasted about a certain famous shrine dedicated to Sugawara no Michizane belonging to his family. Suguru had slammed his closed fist down on his head with a roll of his eyes, dragging Satoru away by the hair, leaving you with a smile and a promise to return promptly. Don’t go anywhere, okay? We’ll be back soon. 

When a sleek black car had pulled up to the base of the school, Shoko had reluctantly disentangled herself from your side, complaining about unnecessary appearances.

That had been four days ago.

You heard of a brewing storm in the area. You hope the three of them are staying warm and out of the rain. You hadn’t even expected Toji to drop in on class today. He seems to call out at the mildest inconveniences. The other day he had cited not wanting to see Satoru’s face as a legitimate reason to skip on his duties as a teacher. He’s the worst teacher you’ve ever had.

You close your book. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Hell if I know,” he shrugs. “Got any ideas?”

You stare at him.

“Forget I asked,” he scoffs. “Right,” one foot is already out the door, “I’m out.”

He stops, back turned to you. Then he sighs wearily, as if you’ve somehow exhausted him.

You are promptly plucked out of your seat, Toji's fingers curled around the back of your collar. When you look at him inquiringly, he simply says: “Field trip.”

—

Your eyes water as you enter the pachinko parlor. You are greeted by the omnipresent acrid scent of smoke clinging to the yellowing walls and ceiling. You blink away the tears stinging at your eyes, and quickly follow Toji through the large room, passing by multiple seated older men, eyes glued to the bright machines in front of them. All you can hear are the sound of balls clacking and levers being pushed. From what you can gather, nobody has won today. It slightly amazes you how Toji thinks he’ll be the exception.

You follow his dark, foreboding figure to the back of the room, to the very end of the row, where there are only three other men. Only one spares you a glance. There are eyes all over the ceiling, scuttling about. Curses, you note, traces of all the ill will that’s gathered. 

There’s a wooden stool. He barely gestures at it before saying, “Sit.”

Toji gets comfortable in front of a large flashing machine, and proceeds to pull out his wallet.

You’re aware gambling is a vice. It’s not really any of your business what your teacher decides to do in his spare time. It’s not as if Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t being taken care of. If this is what Toji would prefer to do over buying the kids new school supplies then…

All that work into keeping Megumi only to gamble his time and money away.

It would be one thing if it was entertaining but…

He’s losing.

Badly. You never expected it to be like this. How awful. If it were you, your dignity could only take so much.

You think it takes a special kind of resilience to be a gambler, but more importantly it takes luck.

You rise from your seat to take a closer look. Not a single metal ball has reached the prize slot no matter how he tries to align his timing with the press of the lever.

You glance at Toji, face alight with a fierce concentration, jaw tight. You sigh.

“You’re losing.”

“Shaddup.”

You sigh again, turn around and seat yourself back on the stool. You open your book. You told Suguru you’d try to finish it by the time he returned.

Someone is hovering. You can see a man out of the corner of your eye. You look up at him, a skinny balding middle aged man in a worn suit, tie loose around his neck, and he nearly flinches. You can hear the plink plink plink of money being lost in front of you.

“Is something the matter?” you ask politely. You figure if anything he’ll ask you for your ID. Without the jacket of your school uniform, you can usually pass off any suspicions of being a student. You aren’t an adult, but you aren’t a child anymore either. You’re of age.

He hesitantly takes a step closer. “How much?”

There are thin, wire glasses on the bridge of his nose. You can see the perspiration building on his forehead. You tilt your head.

Anxious energy radiates off of him. His gaze is fixated on your chest. “Just for the night,” he says quickly. “One night.”

Understanding quickly dawns on you. “I’m sorry,” you start apologetically. “You seem to be mistaken. I’m not an escort.” The man blinks. You continue. “In fact, if you’re looking for one, you might want to look at the man right there.”

You wonder if Toji is into men. If it even matters. Customers are customers. Money is money, and something tells you he isn’t picky.

That elicits an indelicate snort from the aforementioned man. So he is listening.

The man looks dissuaded for a minute, before pressing forward once more. “I can pay,” he says breathily, inching closer to you. His eyes dart to your slightly spread thighs before going unfocused. 

Now, just how should you handle this?

You could take his hand, momentarily stop him in his tracks. You’d be gone before he gained consciousness once more. But you’re technically not allowed to use your cursed technique on civilians, and you don’t like doing it either, despite Satoru’s protests about the underutilization of your technique.

A shadow looms above you.

“You bothering my girl?”

You involuntarily shudder at the statement, but the man pales, looking up at Toji fearfully as if he descended from the parted heavens. 

“Y-Y-Yours—”

“Mine." Lips peel back, revealing bared teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Fuck off degenerate. Or you’ll be seeing my fist next.”

The man scrambles backwards, almost tripping on his feet. He gives you one last look before you watch him disappear through the rows of metal machines. You look back at Toji, gaze dropping to his empty hand.

“Wow. You didn’t win a single thing.” You think that in itself is a special skill. 

An irritated look crosses his face. Green eyes flash. “Damn things are rigged,” he seethes. “ All of ‘em.”

Just as he finishes that statement, shouts fill the front of the room along with shrill celebratory noises. You look at him. His face grows cloudy. You hop off the stool. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to give up.”

He changes the topic. “You look fine for someone who was just solicited.”

You shrug. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

Toji begins to trudge to the exit. A walk of shame. “He looked like he was gonna haul you off to the nearest love hotel.”

“I’ve never been to a love hotel." You had told Satoru and Suguru of your interest to see the interior of one once. They had both fallen quiet for the rest of the walk home. “But it’s not exactly the kind of place you go to alone.”

He shakes his head. “You’re a full time job, you know that?”

You look at him curiously as you step outside. Your lungs are glad to trade the smoke-laden air for fresh air.

“It’s a shame he didn’t solicit you instead,” you remark as the two of you start on a journey to the nearest convenience store. You’d like a drink. Maybe if you’re in a lenient mood you’ll buy Toji one too. “I’m sure you could’ve shown him a better time than me.”

“Dunno about that.” He gives you a scrutinizing once over. “A virgin like you? Hot commodity. ‘Sides,” he smirks. “I’m expensive.”

An unmarked virgin maybe. But any man would recoil from the scars that mark your body. All the assignments from before Shoko. And if not that, then the disfigurement of your side gifted to you from the man right next to you.

“That explains how you can afford to lose so much money.”

Unexpectedly, he takes you in good humor. “You’re a mean little thing when you want to be,” he says. “The mouth on you.”

You blink. Nobody has ever called you mean. Not to your face anyway. You think about it. Maybe this is what Satoru used to dislike about you, back when you hadn’t cared about how he perceived you. All you knew back then was that you said all the wrong things. Now you eagerly await text messages from Shoko. You like it when Satoru smiles, when he flashes you a grin so bright that you can’t help but smile back. You like the soft crease of Suguru’s gaze when he regards you. You like it so much that you can’t sometimes can’t breathe. You’re a different person now. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself of it.

Inside the convenience store, you select black tea for yourself and a coffee for Toji. You walk outside to him chewing on a pork bun and you hand him the drink. It’s a brand you’ve seen him drink before. He stares at the black label. You don’t expect a thank you.

“Tsumiki is starting middle school soon,” you say, staring out into space. “She could use some new school supplies.” Along that line of thinking, Megumi could use a new randoseru. 

He’s silent. You’d buy her some yourself, but you think it’d be more meaningful coming from the man who is technically her step-father. She’d be delighted even, you think, and Megumi for as aloof as he tries to be, can only be so distant when it comes to his beloved sister. There have been too many mistakes, too many burned bridges, but this could be a step in the right direction. You don’t think he sleeps at home.

The two of you enjoy the quiet. You finish your drink, and then stand. You’re in a familiar area of the city, and there’s someone you’ve been meaning to see.

—

“You’re late,” Marie scolds, hand on her hip. You close your eyes at the scent of plum blossoms wafting from her skin. “Think of me as one of your clients. Be punctual!”

“This one’s fault,” Toji grunts out. His knuckles dig into the side of your head with enough force to tip you over, and your eyes snap open immediately. If you were a lesser person, you’d be on the ground. You frown, your head sore. “Found her hoverin’ over some damn stick in the park.”

It would have made an excellent walking stick. You clutch your shopping bag to your chest. “Satoru and Suguru never complain…”

That’s a lie. Satoru has resorted to either holding your hand or staying attached to you at all times to make sure you don’t wander like some bodyguard. Suguru too. You don’t know why. You’d rather just find them later to save them the trouble of finding you.

“Make your boyfriends wait, not me.”

You make a face. He should’ve just left you. Despite that, you hang your head apologetically. It is your fault. You had become distracted multiple times along the way, and a specific distraction had culminated in the shopping bag in your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Fushiguro-sensei made plans to be here by a certain time. It was my fault.”

“Damn right.”

He’s a sore loser, you think. You may have said it out loud because his gaze slides to you, mouth opening with what you think is a nasty reply.

Marie shoots him a sharp look. “Now, now Toji. A man like you knows better than to run his mouth like that.”

“Off the clock,” he replies before stepping forward. A throng of women gather around him, cooing and ah’ing, hands skirting over his arms and chest. A man like him has no need to pay for a woman, so you gather they’d sleep with him willingly for free. And from the looks of it, he has a plethora of choices. You hope they aren’t expecting more. Like money. You think many women have been reduced to tears by the man. 

Marie clicks her tongue, and a collective sigh sounds the air before the crowd disperses to their actual clients, leaving just one lucky woman who pulls him towards the back of the room, towards the more private area.

“They pulled sticks earlier.” Marie looks amused. “It’s not often Toji comes around for anything other than drinks.”

You smile. “He likes your company. You shouldn’t discount that.”

Her eyes are fond as they look at you. Her fingers brush the hair away from your face. “What a man like that is doing around a sweet girl like you is beyond me.” She sighs, shaking her head. “He’ll corrupt you.”

It’s not that bad, you want to say. Not as long as you hold no expectations about the person he is. The only thing you’ll hold him to is being a father. But other than that you’ve found that you seem to feel a certain kinship with miserable people and your teacher is one of the more miserable people you’ve ever met.

That’s when you see them. A group of girls hovering behind Marie. They span from what looks like your age to a little older, and they seem to be waiting.

“Honestly,” Marie turns to them. “What have I said about standing around the front?”

The girl in the very front pouts, glossy bottom lip jutted out. “But Marie, you said they’d be here! Those two hot guys. I want the black haired one, he was charming!”

“Then I’ll take the one white haired one. Those sunglasses…”

“No, I want that one!”

“I’ll take them both!”

“As if they’d be interested. You’re practically made of plastic!”

“What did you say—”

“GIRLS!”

They reluctantly settle. 

“Toji’s students are they?” Another girl asks, voice breathy. 

“Not like that,” Marie says chidingly. “Those two respectable high school boys wouldn’t come to a place like this if they didn’t have to,” Marie glances at you. “And I never said they’d be here. You girls and your selective hearing give me a headache!”

“We’re graduating this year,” you say. You don’t think it matters. Jujutsu High is a year longer than regular civilian high schools. Nobody in your class is underage anymore. “I’ll be sure to pass them your way after. But—”

The girls squeal. Marie winces. You’re surrounded at once, the surrounding clash of perfume making you go lightheaded. Someone’s large endowed chest is pressing against your back, and both your arms. Someone is tightly clutching your hand. Everyone is speaking. Their names, their phone numbers, their availability. Not a single girl has listed her rates. You want to tell them that they should because Satoru and Suguru have money to spend. Special grades make a salary far beyond anything normal jujutsu sorcerers do, and that was coming from someone who considered their own pay more than comfortable.

You suddenly understand every single man in the host club more than you ever had before. You, too, would pay for the experience of a beautiful woman looking at you like the only person in the world.

Your face is hot. You’ve never been surrounded by so many beautiful women in your life. Satoru and Suguru and even Toji regularly experience this? You think that’s unfair. 

“GIRLS!”

“Satoru and Suguru are in Fukuouka right now,” you say apologetically. Shoko too, you think. But that’s something you’d like to keep to yourself, lest you lose her to another prettier girl.

The girls sigh a collective “awwwww.”

You are reluctantly let go of, on unsteady feet. Marie looks downright annoyed. “I should put you all out for the night! Stop bothering the poor girl, and get back to work!” She barks.

The girls slink away, casting you pleading looks. You smile. Something flutters to the ground. You pick it up. It’s a business card with a number written on the back. Someone had stuffed it into the sleeve of your shirt. You discreetly slide it into your shopping bag. You’ll give it to Satoru and Suguru later. Satoru, when he inevitably complains about how you hadn’t bought him a gift. 

And then you feel something more in your shirt.

“Those girls,” Marie scowls as she straightens your shirt and hair with all the vigor of a mother cat grooming her kitten. You almost close your eyes. “The new ones go crazy for a pretty face. They’ll learn soon enough.”

You follow Marie to the bar, unable to help your curiosity as you glance at all the men being entertained on love seats. You recognize some faces from the women that had surrounded Toji, but instead of the excited air that had prompted a frenzy around Toji, everything now is strictly professional.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is hard, but in a way you envision anything else. If you ever became a hostess or an escort, you’d fail. People like Toji and the girls can do things you could never do. 

Marie pours you a drink as you take a seat. It smells sweet. “I’m sorry about that,” she sighs. “How have things been?”

“Good,” you reply truthfully. Unexpectedly so. You’re visiting Riko next month and you are carefully readying souvenirs to take to her. No deaths (as of now). Suguru and Satoru are happy. Shoko is preparing for medical school. Things are unusually good. You pause. “I was solicited by a man.”

“Oh dear,” Marie closes her eyes. “Now just where has that man been taking you?”

“Just the pachinko parlor.” And the race tracks, but that’s a story for another time. 

“Not that seedy place!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you say. For you. “But I don’t think Fushiguro-sensei has a single yen to his name right now.” In other words: you really hope the woman currently with him isn’t expecting anything other than a good time. 

“Oh,” Marie groans. “Born under an unlucky star, that one. He just doesn’t learn.”

“I’ve never seen anyone so unlucky,” you reply gravely, sipping at your plum wine. “I am curious though. I wish Fushiguro-sensei hadn’t scared him off so early. I’ve been wondering about how much he would’ve paid.”

Toji slides into the seat next to you. There’s lipstick on his chin and smudges of it on his neck. “A cheapskate lookin’ guy like that? He would’ve shorted ya. Consider yourself lucky I was there.”

You frown once again. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

He eyes you dubiously. “With you? Who knows.”

You don’t have a reply for that. He’s right.

Marie hums, cleaning a cocktail glass. “That was quick,” she says to Toji. “Done already?”

He waves a blithe hand, not responding. You also look at him.

“Oh dear,” she says in mock concern. The corners of her lips are fighting not to tilt into a smile. “Old age getting to you?”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Why don’t you find out?”

You eagerly take a long swig of your drink.

Marie straightens, not in the least ruffled, gazing down at him with the countenance of a regal queen. “Things have changed since we first met, Toji. You couldn’t afford five minutes of my time.”

You nod.

Toji grins, and it looks devastatingly charming. “No discount for little ole’ me?”

“You bastard,” a derisive snort. “I’d make you pay more. You’ve never paid for a girl in your life.”

It doesn’t dissuade him. “You know I’d make it worth your time.”

“All this with another woman’s lipstick on your face,” she leans over and lightly pats Toji’s cheek in a vaguely warm, yet condescending manner. She turns to you. “Never let a smooth talker into your bed.”

“You know I do a lot more than talk, Marie.”

Marie rolls her eyes. “Toji, dear. Shut up.” She smiles. “I want to hear about those boys of yours.”

It takes you until Toji snorts to realize she’s talking about Satoru and Suguru.

“They’re fine,” you say. Maybe she’s angling for their wallets. It’s an endeavor you wholeheartedly support.

She imperceptibly leans forward. “Is that all?”

“No girlfriends if that’s what you’re wondering,” you report. You’re sure the two of them will make her money. 

Speaking of Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You take your phone out of your pocket and stare at it. No text messages. It’s been like this for the last four days. They must be busy. You’re not upset by it. 

Just…

Maybe a little lonely.

“Thank you for inviting me out today,” you tell Toji. Well. More or less he had dragged you out of your seat under the guise of a field trip. But you’re still glad nonetheless. You enjoyed it. The school is too big without your best friends, and Nanami and Haibara were out on a joint assignment this morning. You don’t know what you would’ve done by yourself. You don’t like to be alone with your thoughts. “It was very educational.”

An eyebrow quirks upwards. “Was it now.”

You look at him. “Yes. I’m never betting on pachinko.”

He clicks his tongue sullenly. Marie exhales a wheeze of laughter. 

Then he reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand. After a second, he tosses it back at you.

Your phone is alight as text messages fill your entire screen. You stare at it, wide eyed as texts start piling in, the latest from Satoru, Shoko, Suguru, or all three.

satoru 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:06] what r u doing

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] IT’S BEEN 4 DAYS

[13:09] are you mad at me

[13:10] fine

[13:10] don’t reply.

[13:15] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[14:05] WHAT FIELD TRIP ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW

shoko

[8:43] your phone is on silent isn’t it

[8:45] see u soon

[30 picture attachments]

suguru

[12:04] yaga said you were on a field trip with fushiguro-sensei

[12:04] can you tell me where you are?

[12:05] nowhere dangerous right?

[12:06] are you still with him? what kind of field trip are you on?

[12:06] this is inexcusable. you shouldn’t be on an unsanctioned field trip just the two of you.

[12:07] are you back at the school?

[12:07] you don’t need to be there. just leave him.

[12:07] please don’t do anything you would normally do

“Your phone was on silent,” Toji says flatly, if not a bit amused. “How old are you again?”

You’re too eagerly engrossed in reading your text messages that you don’t respond. Marie and Toji share a look.

“I don’t know…” you trail off, ungluing your eyes from your screen. Too many texts. You don’t even know how to begin to respond. So you don’t. 

A memory suddenly hits you. Before the three of them left you had been at a cafe with Satoru. While you had been in the midst of typing out Shoko a heartfelt response Satoru had snatched your phone out of your hands, clicked around with it, and slipped it into his pocket.

After then you had subsequently received no text messages. So he had put your phone on silent. You resolve to learn that setting as soon as you go home. 

suguru

[17:54] we’re coming back. i’ll see you at the school.

You excitedly stand, waving the text in Toji’s face. “They’re coming back!” You exclaim. “I’m going to meet them.” You quickly bow to them. “Don’t bother coming back early,” you tell Toji. Then you rush out.

—

You nearly run into Shoko’s open arms, burying your face into her shoulder. She smells like dewy grass. Back inside Satoru’s room in jujustu tech, the four of you are together. It feels as if they never left. 

“Welcome back,” you say breathlessly. “How was Fukuouka?”

“Wet,” she says, making a face. “How was your field trip?”

“Interesting. I think Fushiguro-sensei is the unluckiest man in the world.”

“Well, I don’t doubt that,” she replies. “I bought you souvenirs.”

“Me too,” you blurt out. Your face warms. “Well not a souvenir, really.” You give her the shopping bag in your hand. “I saw it and thought that…” that it’d look perfect on her, “that maybe you could wear it to the next festival…?”

Before she can unravel your impromptu gift, an airy voice cuts through. 

“So the two of us are chopped liver now, are we Suguru?”

“It seems that way, Satoru.”

“How awful,” Satoru sniffs. “After all the trouble we went through to get here early.”

“It was an ordeal, wasn’t it?” Suguru’s smile turns a hint menacing. Your fingers go sweaty. “I’m more interested in this ‘educational field trip. ’”

“It was educational,” your rebuttal is weak. 

“Is that right,” Suguru hums. “I’m looking forward to hearing all about it.”

You look at Shoko helplessly. She shrugs.

Satoru frowns, rounding on you. “I can’t believe you! Not a single text the entire time we were gone! Just what were you two doing anyway? Confess!”

“You’re the one that put my phone on silent,” you reply. “I didn’t even know. I thought the three of you were too busy to update me.”

Satoru opens his mouth. You can see the moment he realizes you’re right. His mouth closes. 

Suguru rolls his eyes. Shoko shakes her head. The two of them promptly slap the back of his head, earning a yelp from the white-haired boy.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten about you two,” you say, thinking about the cards. Satoru perks up at the prospect of a gift. He’s surprisingly easy to handle at times. Like a child. It’s not bad, you think. Not at all. You smile, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a stack of cards.

“For you two.”

They momentarily glance at each other before taking the cards.

“Wait,” you pat down the sides of your body. “Ah—” three cards tucked into the waistband of your skirt that you hadn’t noticed before “—here you go.”

They stare down at the cards in their hands in silence.

"...Thank you," Suguru says, ever polite, voice strained.

You beam. “Your welcome. The two of you should go with Fushiguro-sensei next week." The two of them wear matching grimaces. "The girls really want to see you again." You look at Satoru. "Even you Satoru!"

"Hah!? What is that supposed to mean!?"

You're sure the prospect of being surrounded by beautiful women will make them more amenable to the idea. Shoko is laughing.

“Wait right here,” Shoko says quickly, getting up from the floor. A quick squeeze of your arm. “I’m getting your souvenirs.”

You turn back to them. “Was Fukouka fun?”

“...The same as always,” is Satoru’s somewhat peeved response as he throws you a box of mentaiko flavored chips. “Annoying old geezers nearing the grave. We skipped the onsen.”

The fact that Suguru doesn’t even correct Satoru on his words says enough. 

“Oh. You shouldn’t have.” It would’ve been a nice way to end their trip. You plop a chip into your mouth. It’s too salty for Satoru’s tastes, but you enjoy it just fine.

Suguru smiles. His fingers are playing with the edges of your hair, lightly tugging. “Next time, we’ll all go together.”

“That would be fun. I’d like that.” You go quiet for a few seconds. “I missed you two.”

Satoru puffs up. “Tell me more.”

“I was a little lonely without everyone. I think that’s why Fushiguro-sensei took me out on a fieldtrip today.”

In other words: he was being oddly considerate. In his own way.

Satoru deflates, pouting. You don’t notice, lost in your thoughts.

“Satoru, Suguru.” The two of them look at you. “If I were an escort, how much would you pay for a night with me?”

The two of them go silent.

[inlovewithfairies]

Oh fuck this shit, I'm tired of the same thing happening all the time does someone have a non cartoon TV show recommendation that has happy lesbians that are not teens?!

Emphasis in happy and canon

Thank you very much, good night

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Will never understand the use or appeal of character ai

like genuine question... can you not just imagine that?

like within your mind's eye?

In terms of aphantasia I can understand, but aphantasia effects external material too, like not being able to visualize fanfiction or ai writing either. As they completely lack a minds eye with any kind of literature.

So like, that aside - can you genuinely not imagine it yourself?

Is it that difficult? To just sit there and imagine it?

Why must you resort to a machine in order to do that?

They can say comforting words-

Okay, but can you imagine them saying comforting words without the assistance of an AI? Yes? So - What's the problem?

Why take advantage of systems you know infringe on and endanger many people and careers, when you can literally just sit there and do nothing and get the same experience

By imagining it.

Imagining things and daydreaming deliberately is not a bad thing or inferior to works feed to you. In fact, they can have even more of an impact as they are personalized to you.

If your imagination or creativity is not strong enough and you are aware of that - even more reason to actively try to strengthen it.

Imagination of nonexistent scenarios contribute directly to the ability of forethought and critical thinking. The more you go out of your way to imagine things, the more you'll see possibilities and solutions in real life you wouldn't have before.

The more you are able to visualize things without assistance, you become more able to practice compassion and empathy.

Because you don't need to be shown/live something directly to understand or put yourself in said situation.

Ones imagination is a very vital thing, not just to ones creativity - but to their wellbeing, critical thinking, and memory.

You are better off just imagining it, truly.

Instead of restoring to the convenient option of using technologies that you know can harm people IN THE NOW.

Like - yes, you wanna hear Hobie say 'I love you'. - Close your eyes and imagine it bro.

Free and you can do it anywhere. As far as we know we're the only mammals on Earth capable of this gift.

You don't need to use AI character voices that are actively putting voice actors out of their jobs.

You DON'T NEED character ai chat bots that write fanfic for you when writers are STILL STRIKING because large studios want to use the SAME technology you're using for the SAME purpose.

The more you interact with these bots and technology, the smarter and more advanced they become. They learn with every interaction. The more you use them, the more dangerous they become.

I work in the film industry. We're still lights out, and it's getting worse.

JUST IMAGINE IT.

This post may sound preachy, but just try it once. Turn off everything and go somewhere and find the perfect song and sit there and do nothing but imagine the character. Complete focus on your fantasy.

IT'S FUN

For the sake of screenwriters and fanfic writers and voice actors and fan artists and everything else

JUST IMAGINE IT.

[writinandcrying]

*Rottmnt Raph just caught Y/N and April heavily making out*

Raph: Guys, you don’t have to worry. Your secret is safe with me. To even it out, I’m going to tell you ALL OF MY SECRETS.

Y/N: Raph-

April: that’s not neces-

Raph: I once forgot to brush my teeth for 5 weeks.

Raph: I didn’t actually sell Donnie's Turtle shell, I just forgot where I parked it.

Raph: I don’t know what's the prize for the Lair games and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.

Raph: When they say 2% milk I don’t know what the other 98% is.

Raph: When I was a baby my head was so big I'm pretty sure Donnie did experiments on me.

Raph: I once threw Dad's cake and milk at mikey's and then he attacked him for it.

Y/N: April: well. that’ll do.

[poetthewriter]

HELLOOOO!!! 🌘 ANON HERE >:333

I was meant to re-send my oneshot request a few days ago but I forgot...

Anyways!

Could I request some esmpS2!Jimmy x gn!reader angst to fluff :3

Like, Jimmy getting bullied by the other empires and the reader finds him in a secluded area sobbing so they comfort him as much as they can

Jimmy ends up sleeping on the reader's lap and it's just adorable :DD (maybe even add someone finding them and just taking a picture, the next day they show it to the reader and tease them about it)

I deeply apologize if this doesn't make any sense TT

Don't overwork yourself and don't forget to take care of yourself aswell! <3

-🌘 anon

The Ruler Of The Taiga

hello again moony! <3 (fun fact I was originally going to make the reader a tropical biome ruler if you would like to see something like that tell me!)

jimmy!E2 x Gn!Reader (Reader is a fox or wolf hybrid but could also read as a dear reader)

𝑬𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔= 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔&𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔🥮🍡🍯

The ruler of the taiga, a biome filled with beauty of all sorts, foxes prance around, sweet berries grow along the paths and enchant structures and statues litter the flora grounds. the sound of grainy foot steps march across the lands as you walk with peace, your delicate crown lays atop your hair and the wailing wind makes your cape fly behind you.

a basket rests in you hands and swings as you continue on your way, your biomes berries, fruits, vegetation, and herbs all pile in you basket as the sun starts to fall, as the sky darkens the temperature drops as if the ghosts have come out to play.

because of your empire being well known as the lands of the folk the air is always quiet, the ground you stand on and rule is known for its stories over thousand's of years this place has been known for its magical and haunting aura.

your ears perk up at the sound of the wolfs and coyotes that help you protect your empire howls, hearing the call of the sharp creatures you head back to elk village. paces quicken wanting to reach your home, all the views of the forest pass you as you scower but a flash of color makes you stop in your tracks.

on the soft plush soft fern filled ground the sheriff of the mesa lies, his hands run through his gold hair and his body is tensed. "Jimmy?" you speak up you voice quiet and soft but very welcoming, looking up jimmy sees you staring down at his stressed figure and looks away a little embarrassed putting his hands over his face.

It only takes a few swift moments and you are now sitting beside him you can already see that he is stressed, his posture is weak, his eyes are tired and his hairs is all ruffled. "hey, are you ok?" you voice is gentle making sure he feels at least a little more comfortable.

soon after you talk he dimly responds in a strained voice "I'm fine". its quite obvious he was ether yelling, crying or tired. his body slowly fades in and out of conciseness "I'm sorry for being here Y/n I just needed to get away from things for a bit" he continues speaking voice breaking every few words.

"Hey don't be sorry, I can tell your not fine so you wanna tell me what's wrong?" you hum.

"im just tired of everyone ..."

" i know how hard it can be to deal with everyone, and i know that you know that your alot more then what they say you are"

Your head lays on the dirt of the hill behind you two and you rest an arm over you friend, "its hard when everyone is on you tail but why let the jokes and remarks decide how you feel, am i right?"

"thank you" jimmy looks up again as you lay back in the grass, small berries and wormwood spread out across the glade and jimmy slowly lays back with you, soaking in your presents.

-----------

a smaller male bard walks through the dim taiga in hopes to find you but instead he finds a new sight Infront of him, Oli usually comes by for the wonderful trades you present him but I guess today he's out of luck cause right in front of the jester like man, you and the sheriff himself lay sleeping in peace as the sunrises over the horizon.

Oli snaps a photo of the two of you and laughs quietly with a smirky face.

"photo for a trade" he whispers thinking of the deals he could make with this new found piece of blackmail, as the sun almost reaches above the trees Oli skips away giddily.

A/n I’m sorry this took so long I’ve been working and some stuff has been going on but enough with the exudes I hope to finish the reast of my requests<3

[lord-of-cactus]

hi I'm gods most normal man about the life series and genshin. please share about the au why you gave jimmy a cryo vision and how he got it perhaps :33

The short answer is a fatui recon mission gone wrong.

Long answer is that Lizzie and Jimmy were sent to the west of Snezhnaya to do reconnaissance on a small camp that had been set up by who they thought could be the Abyss Order, something about it being suspiciously close to where they already had soldiers stationed, it was a small concern but something they wouldn't send a harbingers to investigate, so Jim and Lizzie were assigned. They were just supposed to get in then get out, but the mission didn't go to plan.

That's all I'll give for now cause any more would be spoilers :)

[vilifyanddefile]

Pov you really enjoy an x male reader blog but then their new post shows ai generated art

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Hello bonjour!

I've been thinking something recently...

As a fellow Canadian (hey!) with some, uh, less than magnifique French language skills, I was wondering how you think our dear francophone Rook Hunt would behave around someone with "cereal box French" (that is, able to understand it, but cannot speak it)?

Would he speak the same amount of the language around you? Even more French? Would he offer to teach the language?

I'm curious as to what you think! :)

Bonjour! I too only have "cereal box French" about the same literacy as a third-grader. even though I have 8 years of classes under my belt, but that's the education system for ya. And also, yes, a fellow Canadian; always a pleasant surprise! But here are my thoughts!

Some of the French is what I remember plus a bit of Word Reference, and much to the dismay of every French teacher that I ever had, Google Translate to fill in the gaps.

Rook Hunt with a Reader Who Has "Cereal Box" French

Okay, so he would notice that, unlike the others, you seemed like you were following along with what he was saying. "Tu parles français, trickster?" He would ask, resting his chin on his hand, waiting for an answer.

"Un petit peu," you answered. "Honestly though, I can only read it. Speaking it? Well, it isn't great. I call it 'cereal box' French."

He would smile, "Well, reading is a start. And, if you want trickster, I could teach you."

If You Accept His Offer

He would be an amazing teacher and would go at your preferred pace. Having difficulty with that one phrase? He's patient and will help you. "Très bien! Bien travail, trickster! For that one word, I would recommend rolling the 'r' a bit more."

He would ask you if you wanted to improve your accent while speaking it, so it isn't a "baguette accent" as some would put it.

It would start small, such as asking, "Comment ça va?" and seeing how long you would be able to keep the conversation going. He would be proud if you just gave him a, "Ça va bien" or proceeded to say a bit more.

Would pass you notes just in français. "Lisez ceci plus tard, mon chou.~" You can decide whether or not you want to bring up him calling you his cabbage.

His use of French would increase as your skill does. Even though it may be fun that you understand what he's saying, he would much rather speak with you. It would be a nice change of pace since no one that he knows, outside of his own family of course, speaks the language. No, Rollo does not count.

Learning through cooking would also occur. Since you did, after all, call it 'cereal box' French. "Passe l'oeuf s'il te plait, trickster. Merci beaucoup!~"

If You Deny His Offer

He would still speak the same amount of French, but he won't push to teach you if you didn't want to. Maybe just a tad more, but not by much.

He would probably be a tad bit disappointed, but wouldn't show it. At least you know some of what he's saying, and that in itself is enough for him.

Would surprise you with some family recipes that were left in his care by his arrière grand-mère, seeing if you can understand the words by yourself before helping out if you have any difficulties.

Overall, I see Rook as being pleasantly surprised but also happy, regardless or not if the reader takes him up on his offer to teach them. But very relaxed on the subject, not pushing them if they didn't want to learn. Taking it at your own pace with a gentle hand. Also, you two would probably watch French soap operas and films, just saying.

And I'm so sorry if you, much like I did, had to sit through French class watching Téléfrançais. Also, I do love the Québécois Rook headcanon, but I do know it's very niche.

I hope that you enjoyed the little headcanons. Rook, please hold French classes for those of us who want to learn.

[writer-0f-all]

Just stumbled onto your blog and I love it!

Anywhoosle....how caught up are you in Hermitcraft season 9? Cause I was wondering if you could do a one shot where Reader(or Y/N) live close to Grian, Scar, and Doc and their base gets caught in the prank war and Ren(who they is also dating) comes and asks them to help him and Doc get back at the Buttercups(Grian, Scar, and Mumbo).

If you are not that caught up, then could I just get some Rendog fluffiness? He is like my favorite Hermit to watch and there are hardly any x Reader stories out there(so I also had to create ones of my own on Wattpad)

Oh my god yes! To answer your question, im pretty sure im fully caught up, unless one came out today, but yes i love this!

Just imagine how sweet he would be! :

Walking around your house, making sure everything was there, considering the recent prank war you've been caught up in, when there was a sudden knock at the door. Moving to the door, careful when opening it, it reveals your lovely boyfriend, Renthedog, or just Ren.

"Oh my god!" You cry as you jump into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a tight hug. "I thought you were Grian trying to prank me again!" Ren laughs as you rant to him about how being stuck near two bases in a prank wars.

Peeling yourself from him, you pull him into your house, offering him tea, to which he declined saying there was something he was here to ask. "Okay what is it?" You ask, fully facing him with a lazy smile on your face.

_____

Watching from the trees, you watch as the buttercups walk away from their base, heading towards your direction. Watching as they trip the tripwire you've set out, watching as Grian gets caught up in a net set out, and watching as scar and Mumbo laugh before panicking trying to get Grian out.

You hear snickering beside you, turning to see Ren struggling to keep his laughter contained at the funny scene. You and Ren watch as The pair release Grian from his rope trap, before looking up and noticing you, to which you and Ren decide its time to run.

_____

Lying in bed on your beloved, head on his chest and arms around his waist, you let out a sigh of content, happy to have been able to get Grian back for all of the stuff hes roped you in. "Love?" You ask out to your lover, he responds with a sleepy hum, before looking down at you, "Thank you fro asking me to help you" You give him a small smile, before shifting up to land a chaste kiss to him lips before laying back down, falling asleep.

As Ren lies there, gathering himself together, he presses a kiss to your forehead, before wishing you a goodnight...

I hope you've enjoyed this quick little piece, and thank you for requesting! I cannot wait to write for you again! -Candy

[Not proofread]

[visceral-reject]

This is a crybaby!reader positive account. They deserve all the love in the world and I will stand nothing less.

totally not in the process of writing Evan/HABIT x crybaby!reader stuff