#so sean only died after that

[bardicious]

It did not register to me that it took Erik literally a year to get imprisoned into plastic hell. LMAO. A YEAR. Homeboy is actually not very good at the whole terrorist thing.

#Between Rage and Serenity #xmen #cherik #xmen movieverse #xmen dofp #xmen first class #xmen apocalypse #a year with raven and the other mutants #a year in which he learns of charles injury #like presumably they met in between #and then erik went to save the president #by himself #only to get caught #and THEN I imagine everyone sean - emma - azazel - janos - angel died? #How did he know about it tho??? #THat means the assholes in prison taunted him #or he somehow learned it somewhere??? I don't know how #I assume sean died after getting enlisted #america entered the war in 1965 #so sean only died after that #kurt is probably 18 or around there in apocalypse? #so by 1964 raven was in a relationship with azazel or at least they had sex #in which she became pregnant #like DAMN - #thats a lot #I need to write a headcanon history for these movies

[maschotch]

I would love to hear your thoughts about Hotch and fire because I never really noticed it but when you point it out it does stand out as something he gets VERY affected by very quickly

its not the most obvious pattern, which is par for the course when it comes to anything relating to hotch’s past. but i think its sooo interesting that hotch seems to be on edge/more emotional when they deal with cases involving fire. in ashes and dust he seems particularly moved talking to the burn victim and insists on being the one to speak to her; in house on fire he averts his eyes from the burnt corpses and has a shorter temper; in devil’s night he’s antsy the whole case and makes brash decisions (like running into a burning building???)

its subtle changes, so subtle that im not entirely convinced im not just hallucinating it all, but it seems like there’s something there. especially during the final confrontation with the unsubs in each of those episodes: the steel-faced hotch is gone, and he seems incapable of hiding his fear. in devil’s night he has a hard time looking away from the unsub’s lighter; in house on fire he keeps glancing down at the spilled gasoline. if it was anyone else i wouldnt pay any mind, but hotch is known for staring down death (like with foyet). he’s.. uncharacteristically emotional

i feel like something must have happened. even gideon—who has better insight on hotch’s past than anyone—seems concerned when hotch volunteers to go to the burn ward or gets distracted looking at a child’s burnt shoe on the ground. the way hotch lingers on the picture of the mother with her son… something mustve happened in the past for him to take this so personally

im not sure what it is. again, we dont really know anything about hotch’s background (and what we do know is frequently contradicted a couple seasons later—like the way his father died) so its not like we have a lot to work with. simply because of his interaction with charlotte cutler, i think it might have something to do with his mom? we dont know anything about her outside other than her attending mary baldwin. there are just so many unknown variables and oddly intimate moments of connection he has with various abused-sons throughout the seasons

was he in a fire growing up? was his mother? maybe his mom was inside and he stood helpless on the outside, unable to save her? was it an arsonist? was it his father? or was it his mother herself—tired of her life and trying to tear it all down with her? was it all just a horrible accident? was it before or after his father’s death? was his mom dying the final push for hotch to stand up to his father?

there are just… so many questions. so many possibilities. but, whatever happened, hotch is definitely afraid of fire.

#r there too many links? i wanted to cite my sources lol #asks #aaron hotchner #i feel like i should have a cm meta tag but i feel like its too fucking late #anyway. #my personal fav potential backstory is his mom going crazy #full on wander the halls; yellow wallpaper; haunting of hill house crazy lady long white dress mom shit #and--wanting to spare her sons from suffering any further--sets the house ablaze; not realizing no one else is inside #(or maybe baby sean is inside and he's the only hotch can get out?) #if it happened before his dad's death then i think this moment drove hotch to finally kill him #if it happened after his dad's death.. it means his mom is Way Crazier than we thought #and i think it'd be fun if it was shortly after hotch started going through puberty #so he's getting taller and he's starting to look more like his father #and his mom (unable to come to terms with her husband's death--unable to come to terms w her son killing her husband) rejects that reality #she gets confused and think aaron is the one who died. and when aaron tries to approach her she recoils as tho he was his father #he gets Freaked the Fuck Out by that #then goes to get groceries or some shit and when he comes back the house is in flames #smth like that #very emo very wattpad #but its MY headcanon i can be cringe if i want

[underwhelmingalchemist]

So apparently the version of the "Isn't It Bromantic" interview that gets passed around isn't the full thing

So after seeing a tumblr post I can't find, about two and half hours of intensive internet digging, and one purchase from a sketchy second-hand site later (full story under the cut, I promise it's interesting, but also long), I got the physical magazine and scanned it

So here you go: the full "Isn't It Bromantic?" TV guide interview with Robert Sean Leonard and Hugh Laurie

Feel free to repost wherever you want- I want people to be able to find the full thing

SO, as for how I found it:

I saw this tumblr post forever ago that I can't find anymore because tumblr is just Like That with a cropped screenshot of an interview with Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard. In the interview, they're asked about the "bromance" between their two characters. Leonard makes an annoyed comment about how "everyone [is] obsessed with homosexuality", followed by the interview apologizing and Laurie immediately jumping in with, "No, no, let's talk about it. Wilson and House have an unusual relationship so you have to explore…" and the screenshot cuts off there. Cue funny comment from the OP about the interaction, roll credits.

Except, as these things tend to do, it ended up becoming a bit of a brain worm, and I wanted to find it again. But I couldn't find the tumblr post. I looked absolutely everywhere, and in the process of looking everywhere, I found what I thought was the original interview- a blog post with the full quote from the actor. I didn't think too much about it, I figured it was just a short quote given to a popular blog in 2008. There's a magazine cover above it, but I don't think too much about it, because I'm focusing on the quotes in the article instead of the rest of it.

So I send screenshots to a couple friends to make jokes, and it probably should have died there.

However, late at night I end up thinking about that interview again, because of course I did. I start to think about how it's weirdly formatted for, what I assumed at first reading, was just an entertainment news blog reaching out for comment and getting a response. So I pull up the screenshots of the article (because weirdly enough, the old-ass blog only loads on mobile) and look at it again.

This is when I realize that this isn't an original piece from a blog interviewing these two after reaching out for comment. This is a blog post quoting and commenting on a full interview from a magazine, which I had originally thought had just been the inspiration for the piece.

So naturally, I go looking for the magazine.

Luckily, the name of the magazine is displayed on the cover, and so is the title of its main piece. This should be easy to find, right?

Wrong.

This is an interview in a physical magazine. From 2008. October 13th, 2008, to be exact.

I know this exact date because searching the article title and magazine name leads me to an archive on the TV Guide website.

Of covers.

And nothing but covers.

I spend like forty-five minutes searching everywhere I can think of on the web. Internet Archive, the TV Guide website, any search result that comes up when I search any combination of the words "House" "Interview" "Bromantic" "Bromance" "TV Guide" "Archive" etc. Over and over, all that's coming up are that original blog post and the cover from the official gallery.

The only things I could find online were:

The cover and date of the issue on the TV Guide website

The original blog post that was screenshotted in the original tumblr post

Another blog post that had a much shorter version of the quote, references something Leonard says from later in the article, and makes a comment on the nature of his reaction to the term "bromance"

An entry on Leonard's IMDB page's "interview" list mentioning it in title only

And:

5. A single listing for the issue on what seemed to be a second-hand site that looked like it hadn't had its UI updated since the mid 2000's, with a listing with no date or additional information besides what issue it is.

This is the only listing anywhere. I checked every other second-hand site I could think of, and then some that only came up through google searches. There's not a single listing for that issue on any of them. There were plenty of listings of TV guide magazines, including one that seemed promising because it included issues from that year, but it was missing all of October.

It seemed like the only listing for this issue on the entire internet was this one copy on this one obscure website. For all I know, this was listed in 2008 and abandoned, and just never got marked inactive. It could also be a complete scam.

A few quick google searches show that that website seemed to be legit, albeit a bit loose on quality control (which makes sense, this website seemed like the kind of thing you'd have to use the Way Back Machine to access). It also had an option to pay via PayPal, which meant I could file a chargeback if need be.

It was $11.50 when you include shipping.

So at about half past midnight, I bought the listing.

Naturally, about an hour later, I manage to actually find a scan of the interview. I had to follow a link in the comments of a post on FanPop, taking me to an old wordpress blog, and I'm sitting in front of the damn interview at last.

But something doesn't make sense. Why would their cover story only be two pages of text that aren't even full pages, and why would it cut off so strangely? There was no concluding sentence or paragraph, even though it started with a fairly long lead-in. It also led right up to the edge of the page, which felt like there should be more to it. There were more images in the interview than text, and the fact that there are so many of them and they clearly did a whole photoshoot indicated that they had them on hand for a while. The silly string one, for instance, I imagine probably had to require a couple takes, which means cleaning off Wilson's hair and face, adjusting makeup, etc. for it. Meanwhile, the conversation itself seems like it could have taken ten minutes total. I could have been totally wrong and that was where the article ended, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be more.

So I hold tight. A couple days pass with no update, and then the PayPal purchase gets updated with a tracking number. Promising, but it could still be a scam. Whether or not I get the actual magazine becomes a source of anxiety for the next week.

Until today, when I get told it was delivered. And when I opened the envelope it was sent in: there it was.

When I tell you I was happy stimming in my bedroom just holding the damn issue in my own hands... And then opening it and finding out that I was right, there was a missing page... I was elated. I still am, just typing this.

So I spent half an hour getting my scanner to work, and I give you the above issues.

Like I said above, feel free to repost however and wherever you want. I want all this to mean something.

In the meantime, I have two more House-themed TV Guide magazines coming to try and get articles from.

#i am so psyched to have found this you have no idea #house #house md #hatecrimes md #malpractice md #gregory house #james wilson #hugh laurie #robert sean leonard #tv guide #magazine #interview #house interview #isn't it bromantic #hilson

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

illicit affairs

Summary: Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader // Joel Miller x fem. readers mother

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: no outbreak AU, meet cute, age gap (around twenty years, but it’s not specified) flirting, kissing, smut (oral f receiving, protected sex, unprotected sex, so much sex) accidental pregnancy, angst, vomiting, fluff, heartbreak

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic that turned into a little beast

illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You weren’t particularly looking forward to the next three days. 

Not that you didn’t love your mother. You were happy for her. After your father died almost eight years ago she deserved to be happy again. To be loved by someone. 

You just had a weird feeling about this trip, and you couldn’t say exactly why.

You had moved back to Austin for a couple of months after your father died. You had been between jobs and while you did not particularly enjoy the summer heat of Texas, or living in your childhood room, you were glad you had been there for your mother. 

You only took the job that had been offered you in Seattle because she told you that it was time. That she was okay. That it was time to live your life. You only left because you knew your brother Sean was moving back to Austin to start his new job in the weeks after you left. 

„Have you met her new man yet?“ You asked Sean as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. 

Thankfully he had offered his guest bedroom for your three day stay. Not that you wouldn’t like staying with your mom, but you were pretty sure you could not hide the fact that you had gotten pregnant from a stranger four months ago from her, when you would be staying with her 24/7. 

Your brother was a bit more… oblivious. 

You weren’t showing yet, and even though you knew you had to tell your family at some point, you weren’t ready to do it right now. 

You wondered when you were ready to tell them, but that was a problem for next week you, who could lock herself into her apartment back home in Seattle. 

Of course you knew this wouldn’t just go away, but additionally to the fact that you had gotten pregnant, you had no way of contacting the father, leaving you as a single mom. 

You only knew his first name. You didn’t get a chance to learn more about him. 

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall against the window of Sean’s car. 

„I haven’t met him. I only know he has a Construction company with his brother. That’s how mom and him met,“ he said. You nodded. 

„She seems happy. I hope he’s nice,“ you sighed.

„What about you? Someone in your life I need to have a big brother talk with?“ He asked and you scoffed. 

„I found out that all men are assholes,“ you rolled your eyes and Sean laughed. 

„Could have told you that before,“ he grinned and you punched his arm and he winced with a dramatic ouch. 

„Anyway. No men. Might get a cat,“ and a baby you added in your head. 

„I’m allergic to cats,“ he reminded you. 

„Remind me how that is my problem?“

It was a nice neighbourhood Sean drove his car through, looking for the address your mother gave you. It was a typical suburban neighbourhood. 

Kids playing on the front lawn. 

A men washing his car. 

Women who took care of the little garden that wasn’t burnt by the sun yet. 

Fuck, you forgot how hot Texas was during the summer. 

„Here we are,“ Sean hummed and you followed his gaze as he parked the car in the driveway of a two story home behind a black pick up truck. Your mothers Honda was standing parked next to it. 

You gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts while you looked at the house. 

It was a nice house. You could see that someone was keeping it maintained and loved. There was a big tree with a swing outside and you wondered if the man had kids too. Before you could look closer at the house the front door opened and your mother stepped out, a big smile on her face. 

„Here goes nothing,“ Sean said and you shook your head with a small smile before you opened the door. 

Arms were wrapped around you almost the moment you stepped out of the car, your mother pulling you in a tight hug. 

„My baby,“ she whispered against your ear and you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

„Hi mom,“ you said, suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions as you fought down the tears. She kissed your cheek before she looked at you with a warm smile. 

„I missed you,“ she said.

„Missed you too,“ you mumbled and she squeezed you softly.

„What about me?“ Sean interrupted and you rolled your eyes. 

„What about you?“ Your mother asked with a grin. 

„Didn’t you miss your son?“ He poured and you shook your head with a laugh.

„I saw you yesterday. I brought you and John leftover lasagna,“ your mother reminded him and he shrugged before he hugged her too. 

You took a moment to look around the neighbourhood when you heard the door behind you open again. 

„Come on. Joel has been grilling steaks in the backyard. They’re to die for,“ your mother said and you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes as you heard the name. 

The last time you heard it, it was you who said it, moaned it. He had you pressed against the mattress, thrusting deeply into you, whispering filth into your ear…

You shook your head. Not the time. 

„Kids, I want you to meet Joel Miller,“ your mother took your hand and you turned around with a welcoming smile that froze as your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Dark familiar brown eyes finding yours. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away from you, holding his hand out for your brother to shake. 

You blinked your eyes a couple times, trying to make him disappear. It couldn’t be him. There was no way that this was….

Your mothers arm sneaked around his waist, his arm around her shoulders. You saw him take a deep breath before he turned his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

„And this is my daughter,“ your mother introduced you with your name and you were hoping that whatever you were feeling right now was not showing on your face. 

As if on autopilot you pulled your hand up to meet his, your whole body reacting to his touch as his hand squeezed yours, fighting down the thoughts of how this hand touched you the last time you were close to each other. 

„Nice to meet you,“ he said and you gulped, meeting his eyes. 

„Nice to meet you too, Joel.“

Five-ish months earlier

It was pure luck that you got a hotel room for the night. Your flight back home to Seattle had been canceled due to a hurricane warning and you had rushed to the first airport hotel in Phoenix, the airport you had been stranded on on your way back from New York. 

Of course you had no idea some kind of construction job fair networking event thing was held at exactly this hotel for the whole weekend. Though it did explain the price of the room.

You ignored the absurd price tag to the last room you were able to get, making your way with the keycard in hand towards the elevator that would bring you to the 11th floor where you room was. 

Waiting in front of the elevator you let your eyes wander through the impressive foyer before the doors of the elevator in front of you opened. You gripped your suitcase before you looked up again, meeting the eyes of the man who was stepping out of the elevator. 

He gave you a small smile, holding the elevator for you, as he stepped out. 

You swallowed slowly, giving him a thankful smile, walking past him into the elevator. Your eyes slipped close as you smelled his aftershave, your back turned towards him before you turned around, facing him. He was still standing in front of you. He was taller than you, dressed completely in black, dark jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into his pants. The first buttons of his shirt were opened, the sleeves rolled back over his tanned muscular forearms, the ends of a black tattoo just so visible on his arm, making you wonder what exactly it was. 

He was by all means one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

And at least twenty years older than you. 

There was an amused smile on his lips as as your eyes finally landed on his, having of course noticed you checking him out. 

You felt your cheeks warming as his dark eyes looked at you. 

„Thank you,“ you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows. 

„For holding the elevator,“ you clarified, feeling stupid. So fucking stupid. 

You took a deep breath, which was a dumb idea because he and his aftershave had been in this elevator before and it was mouthwatering. Raising your hand you pushed the button for the eleventh floor. 

„You’re welcome,“ he said and fuck, even his voice was sexy. 

He was about to say more when someone clapped on his shoulder. 

"Come on Joel. Let’s get some drinks,“ a man said to, dressed similar. 

The last thing you saw from the man you know knew was named Joel were his eyes on you, winking, as the elevator closed. 

While your initial plain consisted of ordering room service and watching the Bachelor until you fell asleep, one phone call with your best friend after making it to the hotel room left you getting your little black dress out (well not so little, but it was one of the nicer dresses you owned) and putting some light make up on. 

You couldn’t exactly explain what it was that you were doing, but deep down you knew you would regret not going down to the bar and maybe finding that man, Joel, again. Even if you would only look at him from afar like a creepy stalker. 

You never made the first step and your best friend made the very logical point that if you embarrassed yourself for some reason, you would never see the man again. 

Nervously talking a last look into the mirror you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off. 

Sitting down on your bed you took a deep breath. 

What were you doing?

You did not know this man. You haven’t even really talked to him. He was older than you. And probably married. Or a serial killer. Not that you had a chance with someone who looked like that. You would probably humiliate yourself, chasing after some guy who was just trying to be nice to a stranger. 

„Why am I like this?“ You whined, letting yourself fall back against the bed. 

Closing your eyes you tried to relax.

You could do this. You never went for what you wanted. And you wanted him. 

„One drink,“ you said to yourself before you got up from the bed, got your heels on and walked out of your room. 

You had just gotten your first drink when you felt someone sit down next to you. A shy smile sneaked onto your face, because before you had even looked at the man sitting next to you, you had smelled his aftershave. 

He was already looking at you when you finally turned towards him. 

„Mind if I sit here?“ He asked and your smile widened. 

„Not at all,“ you said.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your head falling back against the door of your room he had pressed you against. 

Not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine this outcome when you decided to get down to the bar. You didn’t even think he was really interested. But the more you talked, the closer you got. His warmth against your side as your feet ran up his thigh when he told you about his work. About his life. 

About how he hasn’t stopped thinking about what you might look like when you came. 

„So fucking pretty,“ he hummed before his lips crashed down on yours. One of his hands pinning your arms over your head against the door while his other hand pushed your skirt slowly up, his fingers running up your thigh. 

„Fuck,“ you moaned, your legs already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you really yet. 

His lips wandered down your throat and you could feel him smile against your skin, his teeth carefully nibbling at your skin as his hand slipped between your legs, finding your drenched. 

„You gonna let me eat this pussy?“ He hummed and you groaned. 

„Please,“ you gasped. He chuckled, his finger slowly pushing your panties aside. 

„Bet you taste delicious,“ he grinned before his head dipped between your breasts. He kissed the top of them, inhaling deeply. 

„Smell so fucking good,“ he hummed. He let go of his grip around your wrist but you kept them up. 

„Good girl,“ he hummed and kissed you. 

„Want you to get naked for me and lay down on your bed, can you do that for me?“ he asked. You licked your lips, nodding your head. 

You hooked your fingers into the straps of your dress, slowly pushing them down your shoulder, Joel’s dark eyes following your every move. His finger still slowly swiping through your pussy. 

Reaching around you unhooked your bra, your eyes on him, slipping it down your arms, letting it fall to the ground. 

His jaw tensed, his eyes taking you in. 

He took a step back from you, his touch leaving you and you slipped your dress down your body, your panties too. 

Stepping out of them you walked slowly towards the bed, getting out of your heels but he stopped you. 

„Keep them on,“ he grunted and you nodded with a small grin. 

Walking past him towards your bed your sat down, slipping back until you were sitting in the middle of the bed, completely naked, safe for your heels. 

„So fucking pretty,“ Joel said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was here right now. You let your eyes wander down his broad body, your mouth salivating when you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dark jeans. 

„Spread those legs for me,“ he said and you tilted your head up to look into his eyes. 

The way he looked at you made you feel incredibly sexy, confident, powerful. 

Slowly you angled your legs, letting them fall open for him. 

He sucked his bottom lip in, just look at your pussy that was so wet you were sure you were dripping onto the sheets beneath you. 

„God fucking damn,“ he groaned and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. 

Your greedy eyes took in every inch of skin he revealed to your eyes, dying to run your hands and tongue over his broad chest. He carefully slipped his shirt from his upper body, taking great care to hang it over the back of a chair. 

When he turned back towards you, seeing your amused expression he shrugged. 

„Need to wear that again tomorrow. Can’t have your pussy all over it,“ he explained nonchalantly.  

„On my face on the other hand….“ he winked before he slowly joined you on the bed, laying down on his chest right between your legs. 

His lips kissed up your inner thigh, his beard deliciously scratching over your skin the closer he got to where you were dripping for him. 

Your eyes followed his every move, his dark eyes fixed on you as you saw his lip part, leaning in. You felt his tongue dip into your slit, licking up, teasing your clit all while he moaned as if he just tasted heaven. 

„Fucking knew it,“ he groaned. His arms slipped around your upper thighs, pulling you against his mouth, before dove in. Driving you positively insane with his wicked tongue as he slowly but surely brought you to what you would later would find out, first orgasm of the night. 

Your fingers were wrapped around the soft strands of his hair as he held you down, licking into you until you came undone, crying out in pleasure as your orgasm left you gasping for air. 

He cleaned you with his tongue, carefully, as you tried to normalise your breathing and heart rate. When he was finished he just looked up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh, his chin glistening with you.

„Better than I imagined,“ he whispered, kissing your thigh.

„Huh?“ You asked confused. 

He grinned. 

„Your face when you cum,“ he winked and you flushed, warmth spreading over your whole body. 

Sitting yourself up you reached for him, pulling him up until he was laying on top of you, your hands in his hair as you pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. You wrapped your legs around his back, wanting him closer. 

He moaned against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

„I want you to fuck me,“ you whispered against his lips. 

„I intend to. As often as you let me,“ he hummed back, kissing you again. 

He grabbed a pillow when he parted from you, pushing it under your hips before he got up from the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you saw his cock for the first time. 

Dying to have him inside of you but….

„Joel,“ you said softly and he looked at you. 

„It’s been some time…. Years and I…“ you suddenly felt shy, not knowing how to carry on. 

He grabbed something before he slowly sat down on the bed. He came to rest on his side, right next to you. 

„We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,“ he promised, his hand on your cheek. You turned to your side, looking at him.

„I want to. I just want you to know that it’s been a while and well… you’re fucking huge,“ you shrugged with a awkward laugh. He chuckled, his fingers on your chin tilting it up, so you had to look at him. 

„You may be surprised, but I don’t do this often either,“ he said and while your first reaction was to scoff and not believe him, his expression remained honest and open and you believed him. 

Slowly your brought one of your hands up to rest on his warm chest, right against his heart feeling it beat. 

„Okay,“ you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he kissed you. One of his legs came between yours, his thigh meeting your pussy, making you gasp. 

You just kissed for a while, touching, getting familiar with each other before he slowly turned you so you were back to laying on your back, him hovering over you. 

He parted form your lips, reaching for a condom and you realised that this must have been what he grabbed earlier. He gave you a sheepish smile as he ripped the package open, sitting himself up so he could slip the condom on. 

„Thought you might get lucky huh?“ You teased and he grinned. 

„Hoped,“ he clarified, lining himself up the tip of his cock slipping into you without any resistance. 

„For the record, I have an IUD,“ you said and his eyes darkened but he shrugged his shoulders. 

„Better safe than sorry,“ he winked before he slowly sank into you. 

Sex with Joel was not like anything you ever experienced before. 

He watched your face for any expression, slowing down when he noticed discomfort. He took his time learning what you liked, his sole goal for when he was in your room being your pleasure. 

He told you that he was here for this construction congress thing, but whenever he did not have to work or shake hands he was with you. 

You didn’t talk about what you were doing. You were living in the moment, not thinking of what would happen once Monday came and you both had to leave this hotel and get back into your life’s.

He only had made one rule. 

Not to catch any feelings. 

Which you thought you could do.

But he was just so… fucking perfect. At least the version of him you got to spend time with.

It was not even the sex, which was positively mind-blowing, mind you. It was the moments after when he held you and told you about his hobbies. About his company. About his life. Always keeping it vague, never saying anything about where he was from. 

Much like you. 

On Saturday morning before he had to go to get to a meeting he had you in the shower, your body pressed against the shower wall as he fucked into your from behind, hard, leaving you to moan so loudly when you came that you were sure you would get a noise complaint. 

It was the only time he fucked you without a condom and came inside of you.

You never had this much sex and it had never ever been this good before. 

Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was because there was something more….

You hadn’t talked about an after. 

After the sex.

After falling asleep in each others arms. 

After the conference. 

You didn’t have a chance to talk about a potential after when you woke up Monday morning at 3:22 am, finding the bed next to you cold. 

At first you thought he was in the bathroom but after a couple of minutes and no sound coming from the room, you sat yourself up, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. 

You could still feel his cum that had dried on your stomach hours before, when you found a note from him on the bedside table that said

Thank you

Two months later you found out you were pregnant.

Now

He has been ignoring you. 

Which was making you even angrier, because you did nothing wrong. 

You were sitting with your mother on the backyard patio enjoying some iced tea, watching your brother and Joel at the grill. 

You had learned all the important stuff about Joel from your mother in the last ten minutes.

He was forty five, six years younger than your mom, but still much older than you. He had a daughter whose name was Sarah. She was twenty seven, living in Dallas and working as a doctor, about to be married next spring. 

You were just nodding along, frankly overwhelmed with the situation. 

You had sex with your mothers boyfriend. 

Yes, you didn’t know it back then, and you had verified with your mother when they met each other, they only started dating after that weekend you had spend with him. 

But you had slept with him. 

You were pregnant from him. 

You were pregnant with your mothers boyfriends child. 

„Are you okay?“ You mother asked. You almost jumped, your ice tea spilling a little.

„Sorry. A little tired. Work is busy,“ you lied. 

„I’m so proud of you baby. My little girl is going places,“ she smiled and you smiled back. Thankfully your brother sat down next to her, involving her in a conversation. It gave you the chance to sneak away into the house to find the bathroom. 

You walked by a wall of pictures. Joel was in many of them and the man you had seen back in Phoenix was there too. 

You smiled when you saw a younger version of Joel next to a girl that looked so much like him. You saw her grow up through the pictures on the wall. You could see that Joel was a proud dad. Always next to her at the milestones of her life. 

For some reason it made you tear up, your hand coming to rest over your stomach, the bump barely there. 

Your child would never have this. 

They would never have a loving father who was there every single day, for every milestone in their life. 

You couldn’t do that to your mother. She was clearly in love with him. 

But maybe you were in love with him too. 

No man had made you feel like Joel did before. Yes you had some relationships, even one where you could see yourself getting married before it ended. 

But Joel….

The things he made you feel in that hotel room were like nothing you had ever felt before. And not just sexually. You felt safe with him. You felt comfortable with him, even when you were both quiet and just enjoying the moment. 

You thought it was just a stupid crush at first. Because of the way you met and how it ended. 

You couldn’t fall in love with someone you had only known for three days, right?

But against all odds you did, and you had made your peace with it. 

You could even understand him leaving you in the middle of the night. 

He had told you that he was single and not married. And you believed him. You were much younger than him, which would make this… thing between the two of you most likely not have a future anyway. And long distance was not something that was easy. 

You made every excuse in the books for him. 

But standing here in his house, looking at his life, all you felt was sadness. 

Sadness over what you wouldn’t have. 

Why did it have to be him?

„Your mother and your brother left to get ice cream for dessert,“ Joel’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t even heard him come in. Nodding you walked away from this wall of memories, to search for the bathroom your mother had shown your earlier. 

You felt sick. 

Joel called your name from behind but you shook your head, almost running, but not getting far when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop. 

„Joel, please…“ you whispered, your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. 

„We have to talk. I…“

But you didn’t hear what he said next because the next hing you knew was you vomiting all over his shoes. 

And then… nothing.

Your head was pounding when you came back to. You could hear voices as if they talked through cotton. 

Groaning you brought your hand up, rubbing it over your temple. 

Fuck. 

You vomited all over Joel and then you….

You passed out?

One hand came to rest over your stomach, your eyes blinking open in panic. 

Were you okay? Was your baby okay? What the fuck happened?

„Hey honey. Slow down. Joel said you passed out?“ You felt your mother take your hand. You were laying on the couch, wondering how you got there. 

A million thoughts went through your head, but on the forefront was your worry about your baby. The baby no one knew about.

You were close to hyperventilating when you felt a hand on your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your spine, guiding you to take deep breaths, his voice soothing you almost instantly. 

Your mother was still holding your hand, looking worriedly at you when you turned your head to look at Joel. He was so close you could smell him.

Tears sprang into your eyes as you looked away from him to your mom. 

„I need to see a doctor,“ you whispered and your mother softly squeezed your hand, Joel’s hand on your back stopping. 

„Are you in pain?“ She asked alarmed. You shook your head. 

„No. But…“ you gulped, looking quickly to Joel before you looked back at your mother. 

„I need to check if the baby is okay,“ you began to cry, your eyes closing, missing the reaction of the people kneeling next to you. 

„Baby?“ Your mother asked. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding slowly before your eyes opened. 

You saw the tears in your mothers eyes, surprise clearly in her face before she leaned in and hugged you softly, kissing your cheek, your eyes meeting Joel’s whose eyes were fixed on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure something out. 

He wasn’t stupid. 

You told him that first night that it had been years since you had been with someone before him. You had no reason to lie to him, not that he knew that. 

His eyes widened when you kept looking at him, clearly having made the math. 

Your mother looked at you with a warm smile. 

„You have to tell me everything. But lets get you to see a doctor first.“

Faith really must have a field day today with you. 

Joel drove you and your mother to the next hospital, your brother having to leave to pick up his boyfriend from work. He made you promise to call once you knew everything was okay. He would be waiting for you at his place. 

And now you were in the maternity wing, waiting for the doctor to come and make an ultrasound to check if everything was okay. 

With Joel waiting with you in the room, as far away from you as he could be without leaving. 

Your mother was trying to get in touch with your doctor back in Seattle, leaving Joel with you to wait. 

Joel hadn’t said a single word to you since you left his house. You felt his eyes on you but you were stubbornly looking everywhere but at him. 

This was not how you planned this. 

Then again, you had never planned this situation, had you?

You thought you would never see Joel again. You were starting to make your peace with that fact. Not only having gotten pregnant by a man whose last name you didn’t even know, no but falling in love with the same man. 

How could you have predicted that you would meet him again like that?

If you allowed yourself to dream about running into him again, it was definitely not while meeting him as your moms new boyfriend. 

The door opened and you looked up, your eyes meeting Joels for a second before you saw an older woman walk in, a warm smile on her face. 

„I read that you passed out today?“ She asked after she introduced herself. 

„Yeah,“ you nodded. 

She sat down on the chair next to the table you were laying on, looking through the file your mother had filled out for your while you had waited. 

„Anything in particular happened before you passed out?“ She asked and your eyes briefly met Joels before you looked at her. 

„Might be a combination of stress and the weather? I am not used to the heat anymore,“ you have her a shy smile. 

She nodded at you, setting the file down. 

„I can see that your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s not too bad yet. Let’s check on the baby, shall we?“ She asked and you nodded. 

Your pulled your shirt up and she warned you softly that this would be a little cold as she put the gel onto your stomach. You winced a little and she winked at you before she reached for the wand. 

„Is this dad?“ She asked you before she looked at Joel. 

You looked at him for the first time then. Really looked at him. His whole body was tensed, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze on you, but it felt like he was looking through you. 

Though his eyes did find yours when he heard the question, probably wondering what you would say. 

And even if you would want to tell the truth, you had to talk to him first. 

So you shook your head before you looked at the doctor again. 

„Just a friend of my mom. She should be here any minute,“ you said and the doctor nodded. 

It took a little while before the heartbeat of your child filled the room. You looked at the monitor, smiling relieved as you saw the little blob, your baby, on the screen. 

„It looks like everything is just fine,“ the Doctor said and you shakily breathed out. She smiled softly at you, clicking some buttons on the machine and you just kept looking at your baby, oblivious to Joel having made his way over to you to take a closer look. 

„You’re at 17 weeks and the little bean looks as healthy as it can be. I want you to take it a little easier. Make sure to take some breaks and if you’re not used to the heat, maybe stay indoors. Where is home?“ She asked

„Seattle,“ you said and she sighed. 

„Too much rain for me. But I can understand why this all was a little much for you here. To be on the safe side, see your Doctor once you get back for a check up,“ she said. You nodded. Her head tilted up and you followed her gaze, surprised to find Joel standing next to you, his eyes fixed on the screen with an unreadable expression. 

„Do you want me to print out a copy for your mom?“ The doctor asked. You nodded, your eyes still fixed on Joel. 

„Can I get three copies maybe? My mom, me and…“ you gulped, „for the father?“ You looked away from Joel as his head turned to look at you. 

The doctor smiled at you. 

„Of course.“

And while she worked, the heartbeat of your baby still filling the empty room you allowed yourself to look at Joel who had tears in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your mother hadn’t stopped asking questions on the whole way back from the hospital. 

„Why didn’t you tell me?“

„I would have eventually.“

„Do you have a boyfriend?“

„No.“

„Who is the father?“

„He’s not in the picture.“

„Why?“

„Because.“

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the whole way back to your brother, your head stubbornly turned towards the window, watching the Austin Landscape fly by. 

„Are you happy?“ Your mother asked as the truck parked in front of your brothers house. 

It was a good question. Were you happy?

The situation was a mess. It was… straight out of a soap opera but much more complicated. 

But apart from that? You becoming a mom?

„Yeah. I am happy,“ you answered. 

„Then I am happy for you. Gosh, I’m gonna be a Grandma!“ She smiled and you chuckled. 

„Yeah. You are.“

„Are you gonna move back here?“ She asked. You shook your head. 

„I don’t think so. I like Seattle. I have all my friends there and my job,“ you looked at her. She had turned in her seat so she could look at you. 

„I understand. And I don’t want to talk you into something, I know you have a great support system in Seattle. But… you have one here too. Sean would never say it, but he misses you deeply. And you know I would love to see you more,“ she reached over to squeeze your arms softly. 

„Mom…“ you sighed.

„I know. I just wanted to say it,“ you looked away from her, looking at Joel for a moment who hadn’t said anything since leaving the hospital. 

„I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry for all this mess today,“ you said.

„It’s perfectly fine. I’ll walk you to the door,“ your mother said, already getting out of the car, throwing the door closed behind her. You took a deep breath, still looking at Joel as you reached for the third copy of the sonogram, having written your phone number on the back of it. 

Without saying a word, you put it face down on the armrest at the front seat before you got out of the car and walked to your brothers house. 

You did not really expect Joel to call you, but you were still left disappointed. 

Not that you could not understand him. 

He was probably as overwhelmed with the whole situation as you were. But you wanted to talk to him. You had to talk to him. You had a long talk with your brother when you got to his place. You had told him about meeting this man while you were stranded at the airport and how you spend three days with him in your bed. You told him that the rule was to just live in the moment and enjoy the time you had together, but that it left you heartbroken when he just disappeared in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found. 

You also told him that somehow even though you had an IUD and he used condoms every single time but that one time in the shower, that the man had still managed to get you pregnant. 

Sean held you while you talked. His boyfriend John sitting across from you. 

„Sounds to me like you fell for him,“ John said and you groaned. 

„I know. So fucking stupid. How can you fall in love with a man you know nothing about?“ You whined.

„Well you may not know much about him. But you clearly clicked on some way. If he had been looking for a quick fuck, he would have left after the first time you had sex. But he came back to you. Probably until he had to leave himself. And you said he was older. Maybe he didn’t see a future,“ John said. 

„Or maybe he was married,“ your brother grunted and you punched him lightly in the stomach.

„What? You don’t know for certain if he was,“ he argued.

You sat there in silence for a couple of minutes. 

„You have no way of contacting the guy?“ Sean asked softly. 

You could lie. But you wanted to tell someone, and you knew your brother would keep your secret if you asked him. 

So you told him. 

„I do now,“ you whispered.

„What do you mean?“ He asked. 

„You gonna hate me,“ you closed your eyes, hiding against his chest. 

„I can’t hate you. You’re my favourite little sister,“ he teased and you laughed quietly. 

„I am your only sister,“ you reminded him and he shrugged. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, nibbling on it. 

„It was Joel,“ you whispered, feeling your brother tense next to you. 

„I met him almost five months ago in Phoenix. It was before he even met mom,“ you sobbed quietly. His arms tightened around you and you felt him release a long breath. 

„Well fuck. That’s….“ He began.

„A fucking mess?“ you helped.

„You could say that.“

A moment of quiet passed before John said. 

„Did he say anything?“ John asked and you turned your head, resting your cheek on your brothers chest as you opened your eyes to look at his boyfriend.

„Didn’t really get the chance to talk. First I vomited all over him and then mom was always there. I…. Did sneak him my number. So… I hope he calls,“ you said.

„I can talk to him,“ your brother offered but you shook your head. 

„If he doesn’t contact me, his message will be clear. And I have to move on somehow…“

„Do you think you can? Even if you stay in Seattle. Imagine him and mom stay together or get married. He’ll be around all the time. You would see him every time you come and visit.“

„I don’t know,“ you whispered. 

Sean sighed. 

„We gonna figure this out. But not today. It’s been a long day for you. Let’s get you to bed.“

Your mother came over for breakfast the next day, insisting to spend more time with you before you would leave. 

She made excuses for Joel who had to go to work on a construction site. You didn’t really care. 

You hadn’t slept the whole night, you just wanted to go home. 

To erase the last twenty four hours and live in blissful denial. 

It was afternoon when she left, promising to come and see you the next morning before your brother dropped you off at the airport. 

And she did. With a gift basket for mothers to be, bringing tears to your eyes. 

She made you promise to call more, hugging you goodbye when Sean said it was time to get you to the airport. 

You left Austin on a 11am flight. 

And Joel did not call.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[asimpathetic]

random relationship headcanons with sean anderson;

hey! this is the first time i've posted something on tumblr, i hope it's good. and i'm sorry if this hcs is not well written, english is not my first language, i'm using google translate for some things.😢

for starters, this boy is a total simp. we all know he's a nerd and spends more time in front of his computer and some books researching things about Verne, but he likes to do that while spending time with you, his love language totally includes quality time;

sean shifted in his swivel chair, reaching out to grab a paper from the other side of the table, you watched in silence as he did so, admiring your boyfriend as he studied, you were laying on his bed, and your gaze fixed on him caught his attention. sean turned around looking at you and laughed briefly seeing your lying down figure.

"whats that?"

“just admiring”

he smiled, moving the chair to get closer to you, cupping your face lightly and leaving a kiss on your lips.

at school he stays by your side as much as he can, and helps you with your homework, smiling and explaining every difficulty you have, giving you a few kisses at times, this boy is thirsty for physical touch.

speaking of physical touch, he will always be touching you in some way, whether it's holding your hand, putting his arm around your shoulders, or anything he thinks of.

he looked at you with puppy dog ​​eyes, you could only let out a sigh before pulling him close, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips together in a kiss, and when you pulled away, sean moved his head. following your mouth, wanting more of the good feeling he felt when he kissed you.

“sean… i’m busy”

“just one more, love”

and who were you to deny him that? you gave him countless kisses after that request, stroking his hair and the back of his neck sometimes as he pulled you closer

sean's mom loves you! sometimes when he is busy with something, you help her in the kitchen, talking about the day and about dating, she sometimes gives you some tips about sean,

sean likes to tell you about every new discovery, he tells you every curiosity contained in Verne's books, and you read the books when the two of you spend time together.

this boy is very chatty, he will talk about literally everything with you, so be prepared to hear even the smallest details of something new he discovered.

sean took a while to tell you about his father, and about how he died, you didn't believe it, it seemed unreal at first, but his serious tone convinced you otherwise, and you were there to support him while the boy vented. you became his safe place.

#josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #sean anderson x reader #sean anderson

[lowgothree]

001. ༺...OR JUST LOOK LIKE ONE༻∘

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: reader is down bad. paige in a situationship. kinda angsty.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

the apartment is a lot quieter without tina. she made a lot of noise. you could still vaguely hear her terrible singing as she’d shower, cook, or clean; how she’d wake up early in the morning to make elbarote breakfasts that caused pots and pans to fall…very often; and the fact that she’d watch anything on her phone at max volume. 

in retrospect, she was kind of annoying.

but she was nice and you lived with her for almost a year. you’d gotten so used to her. 

but now, it’s quiet. and the only thoughts you had were thoughts of not being able to afford rent next month. luckily, sean, your best friend knows basically everyone on campus and kindly agreed to ask around for you.

you’re in your car after stopping to get fast food. you shove a few fries in your month as sean shuffles through his phone to show his instagram conversation with a potential roommate for you.

“okay, so…” sean shoves his phone in your face. “this…is ellie. she’s looking for a roommate and –– ”

“i slept with her…” you mumble after seeing the username. “didn’t end so well…”

“damn…okay, next.” he swipes through his phone again. “okay…this is emily. she’s a straight a student and wants to know if you’re okay with pets?”

you hum. “what kind of pet?”

“um…let’s see.” he shuffles through the text conversation and chuckles. “oh, a twelve inch snake?”

“no thank you…”

“aw, really? it’s kinda cute actually…”

“nope.”

“okay, next candidate.” he takes a big bite of his burger, chews for a while then takes a sip of his drink before he slides through his phone again. “alright, we have paige…it seems like she’s coming from a similar situation to you. roommate kicked her out after getting married at 19…yikes.”

you peer over at his phone. “give her my number…”

“already trying to sleep with her too?” sean snorts and you roll your eyes. 

“so that i can text her about the place, idiot.” 

“oh, yeah…” he taps on his phone a few more times and then you feel your phone vibrate.

FROM: PAIGE

hi

i got ur number from sean

you’re looking for a roommate?

TO: PAIGE

yes!! 

just have a few questions first

FROM: PAIGE

like what?

TO: PAIGE

do u smoke?

or own a ten inch snake?

and do u wash ur dishes?

FROM: PAIGE

nope

no??

yes

TO: PAIGE

*address*

are you able to come over tomorrow?

FROM: PAIGE

yes

what time?

TO: PAIGE

whatever works

FROM: PAIGE

i’ll come over around 12:30 then?

you smile at sean, relaxing for the first time since tina moved out. “thank you so much, sean. seriously.”

“hey, i would’ve let you stay with me but i live in a tiny ass dorm so…” he chuckles. “besides, if you became homeless, where am i supposed to go when my roommate need the room to fuck his boyfriend?”

you snicker. “good point. is it really that bad, though?”

“they’re like feral rabbits…” he mutters.

the next day, you hear a knock at the door at 12:27. she’s punctual, that’s a good sign. you open the door, breath catching in your throat when you see her. she smiled at you and you died a little. 

damn, why didn’t sean tell you that she looked like that?

she’s tall, definitely athletic by build, pretty eyes, and a warm smile. you’re fucked.

“hey, i’m paige.” she holds her hand out for you to shake and you have to physically refrain from shuddering. hello, paige. her voice…welcoming and warm, you hand to clear your throat to stop yourself from screaming.

it’s a great terrible idea to fuck your roomate. you remind yourself over and over again as  you take her hand, tell her your name which she already knew, and invite her into your apartment.

“nice place…” she steps inside cautiously. 

“thanks.” you stop yourself from checking her out any longer, not wanting to be creepy. stop being fucking creepy.

she looks around, you’d just finished cleaning. 

“so you’re an athlete?” you clear your throat, trying to politely strike up conversation.

“yeah, basketball.”

you internally groan at the slight smile she gives you when she answers your question.

“that’s –– ” hot. “cool.” 

she nods, turning to face you. “so is there anything i should know before i agree to move in?”

“oh…well, my best friend sean comes over sometimes. he sleeps on the couch occasionally but he’s really clean and respectful.” she nods, not looking bothered by that information. “and, um…i’m gay if that sort of thing bothers you…”

she snickers, shaking her head to herself. “doesn’t bother me at all…”

“oh? are you…?” “yeah.”

damnit. she looks like that and she likes girls? you’re so fucked.

“what about you?”

“what about me?” she licks her lips.

“anything i should know about you before i give you the key.”

“well, i’m kind of in…a relationship. kind of, not really.” fuck, that sounds complicated. too complicated. “it’s…i dunno…but, uh, she might come over if that’s okay?”

you swallow thickly, yes that sucks goodbye!!  “no, i get it…no problem as long as you pay your rent on time.” you die a little on the inside again.

she smiles again, it’s painfully beautiful. “i can definitely do that.”

you hand her the key and clear your throat again. “alright, roomie.”

#rock the boat! #paige bueckers x reader

[sushisocks]

Thinking about Lenny and Sean.

Thinking about how Sean, representing the liveliness and optimism of the gang, has to be unavailable in Colter, just so that we, upon arrival in Horseshoe & his return to the gang, can really remember Colter as a dour opposition to the light, fun, easiness that is Horseshoe Overlook.

Thinking about how Sean is the last to be introduced and the first to die; how he HAS to be the first to die, as the most light-hearted, easy-going, fun-loving one of them. Every camp after Clemens Point is decidedly more dour, less light, mirroring what they have lost with his death. Even the two parties are noticably different, from Sean's party in Horseshoe being genuinely fun and full of hope, to Jack's party, while starting as well as one could hope, being marred by anger and sorrow; fights, and sadness, and quiet. It ends in a storm which cuts the party off; sends everyone inside and to bed, where Sean literally stays up singing and drinking until light. The game is telling us that things are no longer the same, through the environment. Things have changed, irrevocably, and they will only get worse from here on out.

Sean dies at the game's halfway point; end of chapter 3 of 6. He is the first to die of the gang members we truly get to know. It is surprising and jarring and grotesque. The effect is IMMEDIATE, although subtle, but absolutely there. Sean dies, and the dread starts creeping in. His death is the underlining of Arthur's kidnapping; Arthur might be fine for now but that doesn't mean things aren't getting worse.

Then Lenny, who alongside Jack represents the future, and the gang's hope. Note how they're both acknowledged as exceedingly smart; Jack for his age, and Lenny just in general (though he is also young by everyone's standards), and that Hosea is fond of both of them. The critical difference is that Jack represents youthful innocence in a way Lenny doesn't; Lenny is fully aware of what the gang is, what it does, and why it exists. He is seen talking about and understanding the societal factors that have led him to this way of life; specifically pointing out the impact of slavery and its abolishment on his quality of life as a black man.

Lenny is the only one who can be seen challenging Dutch at an intellectual level. Lenny dies, and there's little rationale left in the gang. And we are immediately treated to watching the start of Dutch's more rapid decline in Guarma. Lenny is buried next to Hosea, the (arguably) oldest gang member, with the most experience to guide them. There goes the future and past of the gang; the only voices which arguably could've made a difference.

He is also, notably, the only death who is not given a cutscene. Blink and it's done, and you're left in shock and disbelief, watching Arthur stay until the last second to not let the youngest member of the gang die alone.

So what's my point here? Well, I think it's worth pointing out that these two, alongside Molly, are the ending notes of chapter 3,4, and 5, all setting the tone for the chapter to come. Each signify the further detoriation of the gang -- they lose something with each death; a life and gun, sure, but also what that person in part represented. Optimism, reasonability, compassion. And each death is brutal; sudden; jarring, in distinct ways. Then, at last, Arthur is the final death, at the end of chapter 6. The gang is already done, by that point.

I also in part think it's interesting that part of the reason Sean and Lenny die is their own flaws. Sean's easy-going inattentive nature leaves him wide open, too busy making a quick-witted quip to keep an eye out -- even when Arthur, the most senior member among them, makes it clear something is wrong, which SHOULD put one on guard in that situation. Lenny, who believes himself lucky and intelligent, also has a sense of arrogance and recklessness which has him running headfirst into danger without looking.

I love them a lot, but I think their survival inherently would mean a very different story from the one RDR2 is. Also think they absolutely would have sided with Arthur in the end, but those are both completely different rants I'll save for another time :'^)

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sean macguire #lenny summers #teki talks #long post #IM BACK IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN AGAIN #its another late night rant i keep doing these #rdr thoughts

[teagballs]

hi, lovely! i saw you’re taking requests and would love to request a nandor x reader from wwdits! 💞 maybe the house gets a new neighbor and she goes over there one night for cookies to introduce herself and it’s like a love at first sight for him? i would love to see what you come up with! :)

love at first sight - nandor the relentless

authors note: HIIII loved this request so much oh my god it was so fun to write tysm. i love nandor sm. KEEP SENDING REQUESTS!! im free to write more over the christmas break. i hope u guys have an amazing christmas, love yall.

cw: none! sweetsweet fluff. gender neutral reader. -------------------------------------------------------

You had recently moved into your new home. A comfortable house in a quiet area of Staten Island. It was a lovely place to live. Not too lonely yet not too popular - just how you liked it. After a couple days of moving your belongings into your new home and shuffling them around, you decided it would be best to introduce yourself to the neighbours. Everyone seemed friendly, some smiled on the street as they watched you gracelessly drag your new furniture into the house. You wanted to be involved in the community, make a friend of your acquaintances. So far, you have been successful. Your method? Bringing freshly baked goods to your neighbours. The way into peoples hearts was their stomachs.

After next introducing yourself to the neighbours opposite you - inhabited by a quirky couple named Sean and Charmaine - you were encouraged to talk to the residence on their right.

"Yeah, they're a strange bunch, but some of my best pals! European or somethin'." Sean explained.

According to the pair, there was a group of 5 neighbouring them. They spoke highly of them.

Charmaine cut in, "Oh, but y'know what? I never see them out during the day. They must all work bad hours, I think. You'd be better going in the evening time." Strange, you thought, but only for a moment. This actually worked out better. It gave you more time to prepare some confectionery.

By the time you approached the house, the sky had already faded to an amber and rose colour. The house had an overbearing presence. It was like something out of a book. On the walk to the door, you were greeted with bushes; trimmed and perfected into intricate shapes. Some of animals, some of what looked to be... genitalia? Huh. European. You note the cobble stairs leading up the entry, supported by two pillars. A deep tangerine colour shot from the stained glass windows onto the grass, it didnt seem like it was providing much light in the house as it dimmed and died on the lawn. The whole building seemed to be almost secretive. It was dark, like it was trying to hide away. You took a deep breath, holding your tupperware of cookies close to your chest. You rapped on the door.

After striking the surface of the door, you were met with silence. Then what sounded like a groan? Then a word. Maybe someone's name? You awkwardly shuffle in place as you wait. Finally, you could make out a shape approaching the door. You straightened your posture. The door creaks open, quietly.

"Hi, um, who are you?" The stranger asks in the politest way possible. From what you can make out from the dim lights of the house, he appears to be a shorter, stout man. He's wearing circular glasses and a sweater that reminds you of something your grandfather would wear. It's an overall comforting appearance. Judging the exterior of the house, you were worried someone evil and dark lived there. But that was not the case, it seemed.

You give the man your name, "I just moved in a couple days ago, I'm trying to get to know all the neighbours, I brought these," You awkwardly gesture to the tub of cookies in your hands. The man smiles at you kindly.

"How sweet, I'm Guillermo." He tells you. But before the pleasantries can continue, you are interrupted. The sound of heavy, heavy boots fills your ears. Striding down the hallway.

"Guillermo! Who is it that is at the door! They have awoken me from my slumber far too early!" A gorgeous man with long dark hair stands behind Guillermo now. He looks sleepy, his hair disgruntled. He's wearing some strange attire, nothing like you had ever seen before.

Guillermo gestures towards you, "Our new neighbour came over to introduce themself."

Nandor snaps, "A new neighbour!? Who gives a fuck about..." Oh? Oh.

It was only now that Nandor took notice of who was standing at the door. And how beautiful they were. He tugs on his clothing, trying to make him look presentable.

He clears his throat, "And your name is?" He asks. You note his accent, which makes every word spoken from his mouth seem more lavish and captivates you further. You meet his gaze and tell him your name. You have to pull away, however, fearing that you could get lost in his umber orbs forever and ever. He's fidgeting his hands, you notice. It's adorable. His fingers are looped with an assortment of rings.

"A beautiful name," he remarks, almost to himself. Flustered, it was your turn to fidget now, as you massaged the fabric of your jeans. Guillermo rolls his eyes. He knows.

"I'm Nandor the Relentless," The long haired man tells you. Strange title, but you are too wound up to notice. He could say the most absurd thing, and you will still be enamoured, it seemed.

"I, um, brought cookies!" You exclaimed, snapping out of your trance but a little too excited over some baked goods. Nandor the Relentless matches this excitement, however.

"How wonderful. I will enjoy these later, I imagine they are delicious!" He muses.

Gulliermo mutters to Nandor, "Nandor, you can't even eat human food." And Nandor quickly snaps back, "Shut up," all out of earshot to you, however.

You're dazed. So is Nandor. Even with his 36 wives, he had never felt such a connection. With this, you both found it hard to reach your next sentence. You stammered out, "Sorry if I uh, woke you up, your neighbour said you worked a late shift? So I thought coming in the evening would be better." You smiled.

"Late shift? No, I was slumbering-!" Gulliermo lightly shoves Nandor, to shut him up.

"That's right! Nandor was sleeping, just about to wake up for work." He smiled, covering for him.

Nandor catches on, "Oh! Yes! I have just awoken to start work at my normal human job. At the railroad."

You giggle at his manner of speaking. A railroad worker works late shifts? You had never figured.

"Oh! Cool! Well, yeah, I just wanted to introduce myself to all the neighbours and bring a little gift." You gesture to the cookies again, Nandor takes them finally. Maybe he was a little reluctant to take them from your hands as he worried you would disappear after. Your fingers lightly grazed his, a touch that lasted a little longer than average for such an exchange, but you still wish it continued.

Although you didn't want to leave and it felt like you were being pulled to stay, you decided it would be best not to intrude any longer. Especially if Nandor had to start work soon. "Yeah! So um, I hope to see you 'round. Have a good evening." You flashed another big smile and thumbs up.

"Yes! I do hope to see you around!" Nandor held an even bigger smile at you. It made your heart warm.

You turned on your heel and walked back to your house. It was only then when you were filled with dread. 'Why the fuck did I give him the thumbs up!?" You externally cursed. You were going to overthink this whole exchange all night. God you hoped to see Nandor again. In your heart you knew you would.

#nandor x reader #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #x reader #requests #anonymous #anon ask #fanfic

[yoonivy]

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 6.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. angst

01| 02 | 03 | 04| 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

---

By the time the Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm, Aemond Targaryen, and his army arrive at Harrenhal; Daemon Targaryen had already abandoned the ruined castle. 

All Aemond was left with was Ser Simon Strong and his blubbering excuses on why he gave up Harrenhal so quickly without much of a fight. Ser Simon said he recalled the previous House that occupied Harrenhal, House Hoare, and how their whole line was extinguished during the burning of Harrenhal. Seeing Daemon and his dragon, Caraxes, instilled a fear in his mind — and he saw Aegon the Conqueror and his dragon, Balerion, instead. He did not want the same fate for his family. 

“So you are either a craven or a traitor,” Ser Criston Cole spits in disgust towards the Strong castellan. “I can’t decide which one is worse.”

(It is only Ser Criston beside Prince Aemond now helping to deal with the Strongs. The youngest Targaryen Prince had been commanded by the Prince Regent to head immediately back to Oldtown on his dragon on the day they were to march to Harrenhal after capturing Horn Hill. What confused Prince Daeron even more was the bundle shoved into his arms to take back home.)

Ser Simon does not look happy at all at the accusation, but what can he really say to refute it? He has already said his piece earlier. So he turns his attention to Prince Aemond once again and bows his head deeply in regret. “Your Grace, I know my words are cheap. But my family and I will do whatever it takes for you to believe that we will always be loyal to you and King Aegon.”

At the mention of Simon’s family, Aemond glances around the table, each one supposed to be present… but there are two faces he does not see among them. 

“There’s one missing of your kin, isn’t there?” Aemond asks, but it sounds more like an allegation. 

“Yes, your Grace… my… my grandson,” Ser Simon nods despondently. “He and his wife were two of the many casualties during Daemon’s invasion.”

Aemond’s throat suddenly closes up, like he cannot breathe. Visions of a girl he once had known like the back of his hand flickers in his head, all bloodied up with eyes that hold no more light in them wide open. The image does not leave him even when he tries to will them away, especially since he had so recently seen someone with very similar features in the same exact lifeless state.  

“Sean fought and died valiantly to defend the honor of House Strong and King Aegon,” Ser Simon gruffs out, glowering at Ser Criston. “We did not merely just back down without a fight, we’ve lost—”

That has Aemond exhaling out raggedly. A sense of relief washing over him.

“No, not that one. Your other grandson — the younger one,” Aemond callously cuts off the castellan who is still mourning the death of his fallen family member. But Aemond does not care to eulogize the dead, he’ll be here forever if he does that. All he wants to know is what happened to her.

Ser Simon is taken aback, brows drawing together. “I– I beg your pardon, your grace?” 

“I think he means Jeremy, uncle,” one of the Strong boys speaks up, reminding him.

“Ah,” Simon nods, understanding now. “Jeremy has gone to Bear Island a moon ago. His lady wife’s father is not in the best of health. But they’ll be back soon.”

She’s alright. She’s safe. She’s back where she belongs. She’s not dead. 

The words are like a mantra in his head. Resounding over and over to ease his fried nerves. 

“You let your grandson go to Black territory?” Ser Criston laughing in disbelief. “How are we to know you are not traitors just for that?”

Simon grimaces, face turning red in anger. “It’s not my fault. I cannot control my grandson when he is under the whims of his cunt of a wife–” He turns his glare to the Prince Regent, accusing, “This is your grandfather’s fault you know–” 

This snaps Aemond out of his thoughts, belatedly and only half-listening. “What do you mean?”

As if suddenly remembering himself and who Aemond is, Ser Simon shakes his head. “I apologize, your Grace. I have spoken out of turn.”

Aemond shakes his head, not really caring. His mind is only focused on one thing only.

“When do you suppose they’ll be back?” He asks, and when Simon raises a brow, Aemond provides more context, “Lord Jeremy and his wife… I want all the Strongs here before I pass my judgment on what to do with your House.”

“They should be back in the coming week. When I had sent word of Daemon attacking Harrenhal two weeks ago, I got back a raven from Braeden Mormont just three days past that they already left to travel back a few weeks ago,” Simon then heaves a sigh, shaking his head. “But I don’t understand what having Jeremy here will change. My family are terrified and not to mention, traumatized, at what had just happened here. We do not need more stress in our lives waiting for what our fate will be.”

“So you’d rather I just make my decision – right here and now – without thinking about it?” Aemond asks, eye narrowed at the head of the House Strong.

“You should be grateful, Ser Simon,” Criston bites out. “Our initial plan was to just slaughter the traitors that you all are tonight, but our Prince Regent is merciful and is giving you lot an underserved period of time to prove your loyalty.”

The discovery of the initial plan has Simon shaking his boots, bowing multiple times towards Aemond and encouraging his family to do the same. “I apologize, your Grace. You’re right. Thank you. Thank you for giving us time to prove our loyalty.” 

Aemond is sick of this now. He got the information that he wanted. Pinching between his brows, he waves them off to stop, “Alright, enough. I’m beyond exhausted…”

“Of course. I apologize, your Grace, I’ve not even considered your journey here,” Ser Simon then turns to a serving girl, and hurriedly beckons for her, “You! Take Prince Aemond to the imperial guest chamber! And make sure to provide him with anything he wants!”

---

Although it is true that he is exhausted (not even just from the travel but just — everything ), Aemond still finds himself wandering the halls of Harrenhal instead of crashing into bed after getting shown the guest chamber. 

He tries not to think of why he is so curious enough to search around, pushing open every door that is unlocked. But it is pretty obvious why. 

Aemond needs… He just needs some sort of proof that you were here. That you were living and breathing and alive , even if it was not with him. 

After wandering for a while and just when he was about to give up, by some luck, the next room he steps foot in has him instantly freezing in his spot. It is not because of what he sees inside — for it is too dark for him to see anything, the only light is from the torches casting in from the hallway and the moon from the big open window — but from the smell that hits his senses. 

The sudden warmth and comfort that it gives him, it is so wholly you.

Aemond grabs a torch from the hallway wall, then heads inside.

There is no doubt about it, although it is no bedchamber since it lacks a bed, this room is yours. Everything in there screams you. From the paintings scattered around and stacked against one another (some with people he knows and many others he doesn’t — he sees one of Jorah and immediately turns away), at all the other arts and crafts projects that hold your sweetness and care in them (you’ve taken up weaving now, evident from a weaving loom at the corner of the room), and the shelves filled to the brim with books that hold many of your favorites — some that he even recognizes that are his own that he had given you.

Aemond did not even realize that his eye was wet the whole time he had been looking around until he tastes the single salt tear on his mouth.

He quickly wipes it away, just as he bumps against a wooden desk. It causes a picture frame on the desk to fall over. He picks it up and is swept with devastation at what is in the frame. 

It is a charcoal drawing, obviously done by you, of your husband, Jeremy Strong.

Objectively speaking, you’ve improved tremendously, your talent can even rival Dorothea’s now. But every little detail is drawn with care and obvious love in every line — and that is what has Aemond feeling venomous. 

Why does he even care about what happens to you or your family? It’s obvious you don’t return the sentiment. 

He slams the frame face back down in his fury, not knowing he is being watched.

“You should not be in here, your Grace. This room is Lady —”

At the sound of your name, Aemond grins bitterly, scoffing out a hollow chuckle. He looks over his shoulder, finding a dark haired woman standing by the door, looking displeased at him. “Ah… The Mormont girl? The one Ser Simon claims is a cunt?”

The woman's gaze on him narrows now, a look that could kill, not even caring it is the Prince Regent she is directing it at. “You should not repeat words that hold no truth. It is unbecoming of a prince. Especially one who is regent for the king… And I will not allow you to say such baseless things about my Lady in front of me, kinslayer .”

Aemond turns to face her head on, giving her his full attention. He is amused despite his irritation and indignation. This woman clearly cares for you enough to throw around insults that could get her head on spike — and to a prince who is wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, no less.

“I see you seem to know me well, and yet I don’t know you…” He straightens, clasps his hand behind his back and cocks his head to the side. “So tell me… who are you exactly, my lady?”

---

“I’ll ask Alys to make more when I get back. I’m sure there’s a courier out there who would be willing to make the travel for the right price.”

Your mother sets the empty vial down on the bedside table before sitting back down on the stool she had placed next to her bed and offering you a wavering smile. 

“Thank you, little cub,” she says, taking your father’s hand in hers. The tension on your father’s face slowly fades away as the concoction that Alys made for him takes in his system, allowing him to once again rest peacefully. “And please let sweet Alys know how grateful we all are for her help. She has been a saving grace to our family.”

With a soft smile, you let her know that you will.

Your mother is not even exaggerating. Alys has been the saving grace to your family. Not only had she concocted a medicine that works even better for easing pain than milk of the poppy for your father since his body does not take well to the latter; Alys also cured Dorothea’s son when he had been taken ill by greyscale. You really don’t know what you would do without your dear friend, she has become so important to you in more ways than one. You think of her as another sister now.

There is a knock on the door that has you looking over your shoulder behind you. 

It is Braeden by the open door, eyes set on you. “May I speak to you, little cub?”

“Of course,” you tell him, getting up from the chair on the opposite side of the bed that your mother is at. Though instead of heading to your brother, you first crawl partway on your parent’s bed, feeling like a little kid again, brushing your lips on your father’s forehead and leaning to do the same on your mother’s cheeks. Your mother’s hand cups your face before you pull away and lays a sweet kiss on both your eyelids like she used to do all the time when you were young. 

When your eyelids open again, your vision is blurry and wet.

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise her and your slumbering father. Your mother nods, her eyes on you tender but also melancholic. You’ve noticed that since you came back that they are always like that. They no longer hold the hard yet bright-eyed light that had earned the reverence of the people on Bear Island. 

Your mother now… She is just so… sad.

You are quick to get off the bed, following after Braeden while you blink away the tears.

“Are you alright?” Braeden asks, hearing you sniffling behind him.

“‘M fine,” you tell him curtly, scrubbing at your eyes to make sure they stay dry. 

Thankfully, he does not press any further and just leads you to his study — the one that used to be your father’s. But due to your father’s deteriorating health, Braeden has stepped up to be regent in his stead. Your oldest brother has been groomed for this since he was born — to be the head of House Mormont — but no one had anticipated for it to happen so soon. 

Braeden closes the door behind him, then slips a scroll into your hands. You give him a look but he remains silent, walking to the window to stare out at the dreary night sky, weary-eyed and despondent. It seems your mother is not alone in her grief. Perhaps even the rest of your siblings share the same heaviness in their part of the Seven Kingdoms.

You wonder if you were to look in the mirror at this moment, would you see the reflection of your mother too? 

The worn out sigh you let out might have just given you the answer to that question. It is to prepare yourself before you open the scroll, you have a feeling you might be needing it.

Dear Older Brother, Our loss at Rook’s Rest was devastating but at least our efforts there incapacitated the false King. Although now it is said that Aemond has taken over for him, leading the Green army as the Prince Regent. I saw him briefly in battle while he was on Vhagar. He is a formidable warrior and I just wish… I just wish he was on our side instead. But then I remember what he had done to Luke and I get furious all over again. Our next move is still up in the air, the Queen has nothing set in stone planned yet. But I am sure you will get a letter soon from Cregan Stark about how the North will rally to help. There is another news I wish to bring you and it is not a good one. We’ve been getting word that a blue dragon has been raising hell all over the Reach. Horn Hill is untouched for now but I’m afraid it won’t stay that way for long. I’ve sent a letter to Jorah to warn him and hopefully it reaches him in time.  Please let me know how our father is doing and give my love to mother, Rebeca, Jeor, Marjorie and all the rest — and let me know when our little cub and Jeremy arrive, I promise to see you soon, Forrest

The scroll was written four weeks ago, made known by the date sprawled on the top. 

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.

“The blue dragon… That’s Prince Daeron’s dragon,” You recall, remembering the youngest Targaryen Prince. The sweet one that tried his hardest to make you laugh that first night you met him and the one you danced with for most of the night.

To read that he has been terrorizing the lands with his beautiful dragon, Tessarion, the one you saw can breathe out pretty flames of blue… You cannot fathom it for the life of you.

And to think he is doing it so close to where your dear brother lives… You feel like throwing up.

“You’ve still not gotten any letters from Jorah?”

Braeden shakes his head morosely. “I have not…” His hand then quickly covers his mouth, suppressing a choked sob. Without a second's delay, You stride over to him and you lay a comforting hand on his arm. He looks at you, eyes watering and yours start to well with tears as well. “I’m… I’m afraid, little cub. Forrest sent that letter four weeks ago… A lot can happen in four weeks.”

Your head shakes, trying your hardest not to let the tears fall once again. “You can’t… You cannot think of the worst, Braeden… Jorah, Renee and our unborn niece or nephew are all alright,” you take his hand in yours, and reassure once again, “They’re okay.”

Braeden nods sullenly, and you do not think you have ever seen him so broken before. Not even when you first arrived back on Bear Island, when he told you that your father was getting worse day by day. It might be because the thought of outliving his younger siblings does not sit right with him.

“I hope you are right, little cub,” Braeden murmurs. “I really hope you are right.”

---

The next morning, you look for your mother after you break your fast since she decided to forgo her own — which she has been doing quite often lately. 

You check the Lord’s chamber first, finding your father sleeping in the bed, but your mother who is usually by his side is not there. 

Not wanting to disturb your father’s rest, you don’t stick around. Though just when you were about to leave, you hear your father call your name, his voice weak and hoarse. 

You turn and make your way to him. When you see him struggling to sit up, you quickly come to his aide. 

Once he is comfortable, you settle on the chair beside the bed and lace your hand with his. 

“I’m sorry I’ve not been a good host to you and Jeremy, darling,” your father apologizes with a wan smile. 

You shake your head hurriedly with a tight smile. “ Stop , father. You’ve been wonderful.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

But you think about how even though the last time you saw him was only three years ago and yet he looks he has aged at least ten more years since then has your heart aching. 

You want to think about something else. Like how he used to be when you were younger — how strong he was, how he brought comfort to everyone on the island with just his mere presence, how you and all your siblings looked up to him. 

Then you suddenly remember the time he has been so furious with you — probably the angriest he had been with you your whole life — and you feel the need to confess, “Jorah’s the one that cut my arm! But — in his defense, I pretty much provoked him to!” You take a deep breath after blurting that all out, and your father listens intently as you explain in a much calmer manner, “It’s because, when he would be assigned to practice fighting with me – and only me — he would never take it seriously and I hated it. Then he started that whole thing where he would sneak out to practice by himself so he can beat Forrest, and I followed him one night to practice too. But he wouldn’t challenge me so I called him a bunch of stuff that I knew would hurt him, and it did , and he lashed out and started swinging… And then, well… You know the rest.”

“You two told me that you ran into a knife in the kitchen that the kitchen maids didn’t clean up… Farlana almost lost her position,” Your father said, solemn-faced.

“I know,” you croak out, ashamed that your lie is the reason that Farlana, the head kitchen maid at Mormont Keep since even before you were born, almost lost her position. “So we asked Braeden for help and that’s why he told you he was the one who left it out… I’m so sorry, father, for lying and only now coming out with the truth…”

Your father pulls at your hand gently as he says, “Oh, little cub… Farlana was never going to lose her job.”

Your brows furrow together. “She… wasn’t?”

“No…” your father’s lips spread into a knowing smile, making you believe his seriousness just moments before was just an act all along. “Because I knew all along that you and Jorah weren’t exactly telling me the truth.”

Your mouth drops and he continues, “The way you two became thick as thieves after that to hide the truth… it’s because he didn’t want to get in trouble and you didn’t want to stop training, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes,” you breathe out. Maybe you should have known all along. He was curt and mad at you and Jorah for days , even if the whole incident was believed to be an accident.

“So… what awful names did you call Jorah?” 

You gnaw at your lip, not sure if you should repeat what you said even though you remember every word, but your father encourages you with a jut of his chin your way. “Well… I think I started with the obvious ones… Wanker, dolt, tosser… Then some things more personal like how Renee will never like him, and how Forrest is so much better than him… And then I went back to name-calling, like runt of the litter, anklebiting moron, knobheaded bloodfly…”

“I see you got creative towards the end.”

“Yes…” you answer, guilt ridden. Then you lean in close to whisper, “... I even called him Vhagar’s dropping. ”

Much to your surprise, that has your father laughing — hard and joyful and just a little bit wheezy.  His laugh reminds you of your grandmother’s, his mother, on one of her last days, the laugh that you were also the cause of by picking out the sapphire ball instead of a pretty jewelry from her collection.

And right then you knew, this might be the last time you’ll see your father happy like this.

So with that, you finally allow the tears to flow instead of bottling it up, springing up to throw your arms tight around him. He murmurs soothing words in your ears like you were just a little kid, and in his arms, you wish you still were.

You don’t let go of each other until Rebeca finds you later for a walk to the godswood. 

---

When you and Rebeca get back to the courtyard of the Keep after praying at the godswoods, you find Jeremy and Braeden playing with the children. The two of you stand by to watch them running around, a game of tag and Jeor was it. 

You laugh when Jeremy lets Jeor get him, falling to his knees on the ground with a groan. It's obviously exaggerated, but it doesn’t stop your nephew from gleefully grinning in triumph. He starts running before he gets up, but his poor younger sister, Marjorie – the softest of hearts, most certainly so at her tender age of seven – makes her way to your husband in concern. 

When she reaches her hand out, about to pat his back, Jeremy looks up from the ground and pounces towards her with a roar, wrapping his arms around her and lifts her up to spin her around and around. Marjorie is shrieking, both from joy and cries of, “Uncle Jeremy! That is so mean!”

You laugh, watching on fondly. It is sweet how wonderful Jeremy is with children, and they all adore him as well. You are sure if you ask your nieces and nephews to choose between you or your husband, they’ll have trouble picking between the two of you. Not that you would ever, but you hope that they’d ultimately choose you in the end.

As Jeremy sets Marjorie down, she catches sight of you and her mother. 

“Mom!” She shouts, running towards Rebeca and headbutting into her mother’s skirt before peering up, faking a yawn. “I’m tired.”

Jeor stomps over, arms crossing. “You’re only tired cause you’re it now!”

From over her shoulder, Marjorie sticks her tongue out at him causing her brother to glare at her. 

Rebeca laughs, her hand soothing over the top of her daughter’s head, “You’ve all been outside for quite a long time today, anyway. We should all head inside to rest a bit and for something to eat.”

Jeor and some of the other children complain but Braeden walks up to his son and pats his shoulder. “Your mother’s right. And I’m sure the tarts Farlana was making this morning is ready by now,” he glances around at the kids, “Who wants to take a break and have some of those?”

The children are cheering now, following Braeden and Jeor inside. Rebeca picks up Marjorie and smiles your way when you smooth your hand down her back before she leaves too, passing by Jeremy who is jogging towards you.

“Hey,” your husband says, slightly out of breath. 

“Hey,” you murmur back, kissing the sweet grin on his face. When you pull back, your lips curls into a teasing smirk. “You almost started another fight between Jeor and Majorie.”

He flushes with a chuckle, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, that almost got ugly…” 

He then takes your hand in his, then cocks his head to the path leading to the village. “Walk with me.”

Nodding, you tighten your grasp on his hand and let him lead the two of you, walking instep with each other.

There is something about Bear Village that just feels so welcoming. Maybe it is because everyone knows each other, so the bustle in the town is always so cheerful and loud. All the villagers that pass by you and Jeremy are friendly and sweet, stopping for small talk that you happily indulge in. You don’t get this at Harrenhal – the villagers there keep to themselves, or maybe they just avoid you because you are a Lady of higher stature — so you really miss these warm conversations. 

Reaching the town square, you and Jeremy are finally alone to just bask in the sun on this warm afternoon. 

Hand still holding yours, Jeremy glances around, his sleepy eyes taking in the village fondly. 

“I think we should make Bear Island our home,” is what Jeremy says that has your eyes widening to look over at him. 

“What?” You blurt out dumbly. 

His gaze is on you now, both his honeyed browns and his smile tender. “It may be bloody freezing here but there’s a warmth here too that I haven’t really felt in Harrenhal in all my life. And I can picture us raising our children here more than I can picture doing it there…”

If he notices the way your smile falters slightly at the mention of having children, he does not dwell on it. Still optimistic in that matter.

“But I think the most important part for me is that…” he trails off, now taking both your hands in his, “You are happier here. And that’s all the convincing I need to make the decision.”

Your features start to wobble, a feeling of happiness igniting in your veins at your husband’s sweetness. “Are you sure?”

Jeremy hums with a nod, pulling you closer towards him that your chest is pressed against his. “Yes, I’m sure. Once this stupid war is over and my duty at Harrenhal is no more, we shall live the rest of our happy lives here… So what do you think?” 

Without another thought, you grasp his face between your hands and kiss his mouth over and over again, murmuring yes and yes and a thousand times yes.

---

“Jeremy and I discussed it last night. We can stay for another day or two if you’d like.” 

Glancing over at you with a small grin, your mother shakes her head, patting your hand that is wrapped around her arm. 

It is the day you are to leave for Harrenhal, so you spend the morning with your mother at the rampart of the keep, staring down at the place you are once again going to miss so terribly. 

“We’ll be fine… Your father will be fine…” Your mother reassures you. “I also reckon that Ser Simon would not be too happy if Jeremy stays even another second here.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. You do not care what Ser Simon wants or not.

“Little cub… Tell it to me true… Do you hold any ill feelings towards me?”

Your mother’s inquiry has you confused. “Why would I hold any ill feelings towards you, mother?”

You rack your brain for a reason for her question but you can not think of any. Your mother ends up answering it for you.

“Braeden got to marry his childhood best friend and the one he loves, Dorothea was smitten the moment she saw Tobias and thus we asked Lord Grover to introduce them…” As your mother continues, you have a feeling you know where she is going with this. “... and after years of pining, Jorah finally got his happy ending with Renee, and even Forrest is happily with Willam… But you…” your gaze turns blurry as you turn towards her, your mother’s gaze already on you as she chokes back a sob, “I– I told you to give up on Aemond.”

You remember it very well. A year passed already since Aegon’s and Helaena’s wedding, and yet every day you kept going to the docks and rookery, waiting for Aemond’s letters. It must have been so distressing to watch you, so lifeless and depressed and not all like yourself. It is no wonder your mother finally had enough and told it to you straight:

We are of House Mormont, my precious girl. We do not lie in wait, and especially not for a boy. Not even a prince. Because we are Mormonts, and Here We Stand.

Then she had set up a meeting between you and Jeremy despite your protest. You may have been angry with her back then, but now…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, mother,” you tell her, head shaking as you thumb away the tears falling on her face, feeling your cheeks are wet too. “I needed that wakeup call. I was so… unhappy. Just waiting and grieving for the living… I wasn’t in a good mental space. But now — I’m happy now. We might not have had a fairytale sort of romance but I love Jeremy.”

“Good. Good, ” your mother says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “That’s all I want. For my precious little cub to be happy.”

A few minutes later, a guard interrupts the sweet moment between the two of you. “Lady Mormont. The ship leaving for the mainland is boarding soon.”

When he leaves, your mother has some final words for you, “I need you to stay safe. I cannot bear to lose any more of my bears.”

Brows furrowing together, you whisper to her, “You haven’t lost any of us…”

“No,” your mother breathes out, and yet there seems to be something in her weak smile that seems to say otherwise. A mother’s intuition, perhaps. “Not yet.”

---

A fortnight pass and you are almost back at Harrenhal.

At the last stretch of the journey, only a few hours away from the castle, Jeremy offers for you to ride with him so you can rest against his back. Since you decided to forgo riding in a wheelhouse to avoid attention, you’ve been riding a horse of your own. It is tiring since you are not used to it, so you climb onto Jeremy’s horse and wrap your arms around your husband’s waist. 

You drift in and out of sleep, but what wakes you up fully is when one of the Strong bannerman traveling with you exclaims out loud, “What in the Seven Hells is that?!”

The way Jeremy stiffens against you has you worried, lifting yourself up to peer over his shoulder.

And that is when you see her. 

As menacing and as colossal as you remember, coiled around one side of the Harrenhal castle.

Vhagar.

The sight of the dragon has your stomach swooping — you are not sure if it is from anticipation or anxiety. Probably a little bit of both. Because wherever the shedragon is, her rider will surely be there as well.

---

The walk to the castle is strange. The people of Harrenhal are even more eerily cold than usual. They did not smile or greet you warmly, only harsh murmuring filled your ears. It makes you think that at the time when you and Jeremy were away, you had missed something big.

It makes you thankful for the tight hold Jeremy has on your hand, but the energy emanating off your sweet husband is not at all how he was on Bear Island. He is rigid and tense, and you have a feeling you know why.

As you approach the front of the castle, the Strong court is already awaiting your arrival at the top of the steps. Ser Simon is at the forefront, domineering and stone faced as always. Your gaze roams, and yet there is no sight of the pale haired prince in the lineup. There are a few missing faces as well, like Jeremy’s brother, Sean.

“You two are finally back,” Ser Simon gruffly spouts, already unhappy. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m sorry, grandfather,” is all Jeremy could really say, bowing towards the castellan. You curtsy low in respect as well, not wanting to start trouble as soon as you arrive.

“Come,” Ser Simon motions for you to follow, already turning on his heels. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Jeremy and you share a glance before following him, dread in the pit of your stomach. You can not explain why but you do not have a good feeling about what is coming. 

As soon as you step inside the castle, you remember why you hate it here so much. It’s cold. So cold, and —

Suddenly you envelope in warmth and the smell of cinnamon. 

“Alys!” You laugh, squeezing her as close as she is squeezing you. “I’ve missed you so, so much!”

“And I you,” she murmurs, leaning away so you can witness her rare smiles. “How is your father?”

“He is… alright, when we left,” you tell her, pressing your lips together. “He does need more of that medicine you made for him.” 

“Of course, I’ll get to it as soon as I can, My Lady,” Alys tells you as she loosens her arms around you. She then turns to greet your husband and as she does, someone steps forward and wraps their arm around Alys’ waist.

With a tilt of your head and your brows furrowing, you glance up in question — only to gasp softly when an all too familiar smirk graces your vision. 

Although he has a possessive grip on your dearest friend’s hip, Aemond Targaryen’s eye is solely on you. 

“Welcome back… Lady Mormont.”

#hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond #aemond targaryen

[strrwbrrryjam]

can you imagine being john and only learning that your brother has forgiven you for leaving for a year and only moments later, he dies.

over the course of the game we see so much of johns and arthurs relationship, it clear that they love each other, but there is still resentment between each other and there is still very much distance between them both

honestly i think what the catalyst for their reconciliation was jacks kidnapping in chapter 4, john finally accepting the role of jacks father, in a way, correcting the mistake made all those years ago, is what helped them work to repair the relationship

that and the fact that as time goes on and things get worse in the gang, hosea and susan arent listening to them and they dont know who in their gang would consider their doubts as traitor thoughts so its obvious that the only people that they can confide in is one another, as they have grown up with one another, that despite their differences and their perceived resentment and the trauma between the both of them, they can still rely on one another

over time and as things go on, they get closer as brothers to one another, they confide more in one another and arthur encourages john to leave the gang, to take his family and leave for a better life

until one night, they are on that mountain, on the run from the pinkertons, their former gang members, and from the man that raised them until, arthur decides he cant go on no more

his end is near anyway, whether its by the sickness that is filling his lungs with blood, or by a bullet by his former gang members, or being shot to death by pinkertons, there is no life for him left

and if he does survive, what next? does he deserve to live on? after taking the lives of so many people, beating desperate people till their pockets empty of their last dollar,

even then, even if he did get his happy ending, that you and i believe he deserves, can he live with what hes done? or whats been done to him? can he live with the guilt that he survived, while sean and lenny and molly and hosea and kieran and grimshaw and eagle flies.. didn't

so he chooses to stay, and to let marston live, or at least give him time to get away, to his family, something that arthur doesnt really have no more and give marston a chance for peace

but john.. john doesnt know whats going on in arthurs head, all he knows and all he sees is his brother stopping, and staying behind, and he pleads with arthur to keep going

but arthur tells him to stop, and that its the end for him, but it doesnt have to be the end for marston, and that he wants marston to leave, and to live and "be a goddam man"

and john tells him, "you're my brother," one final desperate plea, telling arthur that he still needs him, that there is so much left for him and arthur, tells him with quiet resignation in his tone, "i know," and he walks away

can you imagine being john, at the bottom of that mountain, thinking about the fact that was the last time he'll ever see arthur again, and that while arthur dies, he will live on with his family, the survivors guilt that chews away from him

thinking about the bonding moments that they will never get to have, they will never work on another job again, they will never share a drink over the campfire again, they will never share a laugh or a tired look when dutch or hosea or susan go on another tirade again, they will never comfort one another again, or share their woes with one another

he will never get advice from his big brother again, or have his brother rib him again, or have his brother take care of him again

that he will never see someone so dear to him, that has been for him the majority of his life again

can you imagine being john.

#im feeling emotional #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 john marston #john marston #rdr2 dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde #rdr2 susan grimshaw #susan grimshaw #rdr2 miss grimshaw #miss grimshaw #rdr2 hosea matthews #hosea matthews #rdr2 van der linde gang #van der linde gang #strawberry speaks

[annerbhp]

them apples.

Here's Ginny and Harry attending a big old party Tilly holds as a grand opening for her shop soon after their relationship hits the press.

A big bloke approaches them.

Ginny grabs his shoulder, forcing the giant down so she can give him a kiss on the cheek. He accepts this with patience and a vague sense of being bullied.

Ginny tugs him around to face Harry. “You know Harry?”

“I know of him,” he says, holding out a hand. “Tristram Bassenthwaite.”

Harry shakes his hand, remembering him well enough. “Hi.” He pauses, looking around. “Nice party.”

Bassenthwaite laughs. “Yeah. Amazing. Tilly and I really appreciate you coming though. It’ll definitely help with with the press and all.”

“We’re happy to do it,” Harry says, mostly because it seems the right thing to say. And he had agreed to it, as mental as it seems now.

Ginny’s the one who gives Bassenthwaite a narrow-eyed look. “And how’d Tilly rope you into coming?” she asks.

Bassenthwaite grimaces, pulling a face. “She said if we were going to be partners, it was all or nothing. She also threatened to invite my parents over for dinner if I didn’t.”

Ginny mock shudders. “That would do it.” She glances around the room, at least a dozen people turning away just as she looks at them. “How unbearable is everyone being?”

Harry wonders if he’s imagining the wide swath of space around Bassenthwaite. At first Harry thought everyone was staring at him. But maybe it’s something else entirely? These are all Bassenthwaite’s friends, aren’t they? And he is the owner of this shop.

Bassenthwaite waves a giant hand dismissively. “Oh, those who actually deign to speak with me are all full of pity, concern, and vapid excuses for not visiting me a single time in the last two years. The others are still just firmly pretending I died.”

Ginny’s face takes on the sort of icy determination that heralds both disaster and probably something Harry will find devastatingly attractive. She glances at Harry. “Will you be alright for a bit, Harry? Because I need to remind some assholes just whose bloody booze they are drinking.”

Harry nods, not completely certain he’s actually going to be okay in this blood thirsty crowd of peacocks, but he’s certainly not going to admit that to Ginny.

He thinks she sees a bit of it anyway, considering she lifts up and kisses him, right there in front of everyone before taking Bassenthwaite’s arm and dragging him off.

Harry can vaguely hear him asking if they really have to do this and Ginny saying that yes they bloody well have to before they step out onto the dance floor together. Harry takes a moment to admire the way Ginny’s dress shimmers in the light as she moves.

Around Harry, people are definitely talking about what Ginny’s doing, but after a while, Harry feels more and more eyes on him. Like he’s supposed to care that Ginny is dancing with Bassenthwaite?

Only then he realizes it’s something else entirely.

“Potter.”

Harry turns, and looks up at Sean Thompson, the git having the gall to have a few inches on him. “Thompson,” he says, voice even.

Harry bites back a rather sarcastic reposte about who exactly is having fantasies now, but everyone is clearly watching, waiting for something exciting to happen, and Ginny isn’t something to be fought over. She makes her own decisions.

“How’s the broom business?” Harry tries, wondering how much longer this stupid song Ginny’s dancing to can last.  

Thompson gives him a look like he’s completely mental. “Did you wonder if it was true?”

“What?” Harry asks, startled by his tone as much as the blunt question.

“What the papers said.”

About Thompson and Ginny, Harry realizes. Their supposed torrid affair right under Harry's nose.

“No,” Harry says. “Not even for a second.”

It’s cruel to say maybe, but it’s also the truth.

Only Thompson doesn’t bristle. Instead, he just nods. “Good. Because if you had, you don’t deserve her.”

Harry blinks, aware of Ginny joining them then, slipping in next to Harry, her hand tucking into his elbow.

They all talk for a while, about brooms. Or whatever. It’s all very calm and polite and drags on long enough for most people to grow bored waiting for a scene that clearly isn’t going to happen. Harry can see Ginny’s done this on purpose too and he’s exhausted just thinking about all the things she’s doing at once to manage this party that feels more and more like a battle.

Once Thompson finally fucks off, Ginny smiles up at Harry. “Are we having fun yet?”

Harry can’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he says, turning his face to press into the top of her head. “Loads.”

#armistice series #them apples

[pomegranatesandribcages]

me when someone brings up the fact that sean diaz thought his life was ending at 16, little did he know it actually did and he would never feel normal again

me when someone brings up "finn is so fucking smart. if he wasnt such a fuck-up, he couldve taken over the world"

me when someone brings up cassidys letter

me when someone brings up how the group got seperated after the incident even though they only had each other

me when someone brings up how every character had so much potential but were just dealt shitty cards in life and will forever face the consequences of not being good enough to combat the struggles they never asked for (ESP sean, cass, finn and lw daniel)

me when someone brings up the fact that its implied that max and daniel meet in the pw ending, and they finally wont feel alone for the first time in their lives

me when someone brings up how bad seans writing and drawing got after losing his eye, and he would get a migraine whenever he tried to focus, stripping him of the one thing that ever calmed him down

me when someone brings up the fact that daniel quit drawing after lisbeth manipulated him, but started again after sean died because he told him to never stop

me when someone brings up what seans teen years in prison mustve been like and what daniels first meetings with him wouldve been like

me when someone brings up how sean never even gave a second thought about being straight before meeting finn, but after he kissed him he wanted to do it again and kept telling everybody because it was such a personal thing for him

me when sean had no one to talk about prev with because his life was so fucked up and he had no outlet for being a normal teengaer

me when sean literally dreamt about telling his dad he kissed a boy because it was so important to him and he never got to have that conversation before he died, and he imagined his dad supporting him endlessly because he was experiencing a lack of that irl

me when sean got awoken from prev dream to get beat bloody and bruised by a fuckass racist (he will never experience peace)

this post is already too long and i could still go on why is this game so tragic

#life is strange 2 #life is strange #life is strange before the storm #life is strange 1 #max life is strange #max caulfield #sean diaz #chloe price #daniel diaz #esteban diaz #life is strange true colors #lis #lis2 #lis2 sean #finn mcnamara #lis2 finn #lis2 cassidy #cassidy jones #lucy rose jones #mcdiaz #sinn #????? #doesnt roll off the tongue like amberpricefield huh #sean x finn #sean x cassidy #txt post #analysis #essay #fandom #🦌

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 4.2

Having Paul talking about following his artistic muse and deciding not to care what other people think paired with the insanity of McCartney 2 is fantastic. 

I sincerely hope those 20K words that Paul wrote for his posterity about his time in jail are published some day. 

He looks so pretty in this interview!

John and Sean are so cute! 

“Nobody Knows” is about secretly hooking up with John, obviously. But “that includes you, honey!” Is that at Linda?? Don't do that to your mother, Paul. 

The only scenario in which I  support a hypothetical JP sexual/romantic relationship in the 70s is that hypothetically no wives were harmed in the making of this hypothetical. 

Not the cut from “Coming Up” to “Probably the thing that John and I will do . . .” to John's self interview about bisexuality and Paul and life begins at forty back to Coming Up interspersed with footage of happy JP to John getting out a guitar to record a demo! 

And the demo is (Just Like) Starting Over. Just bury me already. 

Another lyrical reference I didn't catch in the demo version: “it's easy.” Sung very similarly to how he sang it in All You Need is Love. 

John comparing them to brothers (Everly) and a marriage (Goffin and King) in the same sentence. And he's right, too.

I love the interviewer being so skeptical of John and how dismissive he is of Paul in this interview and how he can't get his story straight on when the last time he'd seen Paul was. More women should've interviewed him.

How I imagine it went. Interviewer: hi John are you ready to -- John: did you know I never think about Paul anymore unless somebody brings him up? Interviewer: but I didn't – John: yeah he used to show up at my door with a guitar and I told him to go away. Interviewer: ooookaaay? 

Cutie! I love John so much.

“If I was dead, they wouldn't be angry with me. If I'd conveniently died in the mid seventies after Rock and Roll album or Walls and Bridges (((everybody loves you when you're six feet in the ground))), they'd all be writing this worshipful stuff about what a great guy.” It hurts to hear and it hurts that he was exactly right. 

I don't care what John and Yoko say, manifesting is just another capitalist lie to keep the proletariat complacent. 

“The only one who can control me is me and that's just barely possible.” It's one of those John quotes that's so silly and cute and also entirely relatable. He really had a way of capturing the human condition. 

“Nobody ever said anything about Paul having a spell over me when I was with him for a long time! Or me having a spell over Paul! They didn't think that was abnormal, two guys together.” Yeah, John, they definitely did and they made fun of it and tried to poke holes in it, or have you forgotten?

“Or four guys together.” Yeah. George and Ringo were in the Beatles too.

“In those days? Why didn't anybody ever say ‘How come those guys don't split up?” You're joking, right John? 

The video/audio pairing here though! You mean ‘what's going on under the table?’

Love John getting pissed that nobody asked him, “What is that Paul and John business?” RIP John, you would've loved Beatles Tumblr.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ulm #understanding lennon mccartney

[hotchfiles]

↪ day one. childhood — #marchhotchness

Childhood. What are some headcanons you have of his childhood, how do you think he was at school, at home, stuff like that, anything you can think about or have thought about.

first of all, all hotch gals and pals should read this masterpiece by @hardlyinteresting. bee captured perfectly everything i've been thinking about his childhood recently and i think she wrote it in the most beautiful way, so that's a must to understand how i think about it.

we don't hear much about his mother throughout the series and for me that speaks volumes because we do hear a good amount about his father. the only thing we know is where she was born and where she went for college. sure, hotch is a private person but for me that means his mother is a sore subject. so why?

we know his father died young, either of a heart failure or lung cancer, and that he was a cheater, a spender, a lawyer. still, even with the grievances against his father, when sean decides not to go to law school, hotch says "you've always wanted to be a lawyer, like me, like dad.", so he still looks up to his father in a way. and then sean responds with "yeah, look what that got him, death by heart failure at 47." which tells me sean blames their dad for dying young, because he left them alone with their mother.

hotch comes from an abusive home, but it wasn't their father, it was their mother. she was bred to be a high achieving socialite, she cared about appearances in the same way the mother of the episode hotch speaks about his mother, he wouldn't bring it up if they weren't similar.

by his knowledge of scripture we know he was raised catholic, probably forced fed the bible by his mother and priests who had no idea what they were actually saying because they cared more about being influential in virginia.

his mother lost control of her life, in her mind, when his father began cheating, i have a feeling he probably gambled, she took her anger out on the boys. that's why hotch tells the unsub it's only natural to grow up in an abusive home and become a killer, but some people grow up to catch them.

now, we also know he was a nerd growing up, and i feel that was his way of having control, and also when his obsessive tendencies began. when you don't have control about what your mother is going to do next, you isolate yourself in puzzles, charades and collections. your mind focuses on something else rather than the yelling of your parents. that's what he did.

he gets rebellious, obviously, as he grew up, he gets mad at his father for being a cheater, for spending their money where he shouldn't, and mad at his mother because she didn't care of him like a mother should, so he acts out and gets sent to boarding school. that's where he cleans up his act.

i believe he was the type to have a few good friends in school, the type who would sometimes get in trouble but not so much because their good grades made up for it. he wasn't shy but he was quiet, he wasn't bad at sports but he wasn't the best, he read a lot, mostly books that weren't being discussed in class and most definitely always the philosophy kid, not the numbers kid.

yes i think a lot about this man don't judge me i love him and he makes me go absolutely insane. that's why i created this event thing after all.

#marchhotchness #lari march hotchness #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

[jqmalikhsgib]

quest

nine

tik tok tik tok

the clock was definitely mocking you. waiting patiently for aaron to arrived while you sat across from the woman that was about to listen to you about your marriage, divorce, family, and more.

she just smiles at you. soon enough you sigh in relief when aaron walks into the room.

you clears his throat as he sits right beside you. “sorry im late.”

“that’s okay. shall we get started?”

aaron hums. “what brings you two in today?

the two of you look at one another. aaron was the first one to speak. telling the doctor your story. it made you uneasy when she just nods and writes down the information.

“how does that make you feel mister hotchner? finding out you have three other children that you didn’t know about?”

“in the beginning i was livid. knowing that she took two years away from knowing my children. our children! it made me angry. but i realized i was just angry at myself. i did this to us. i ruined that relationship.”

“how do you feel yn?”

“i feel guilty. maybe if i just—maybe if i just stayed and listen to reason none of anything would have happened. i blame everything that happened in the last two years on myself. maybe then he wouldn’t have died.”

your biological father. aaron didn’t know you felt this way. you took all that blame. all that heartbreak that should have fallen on your dad. it wasn’t your fault. he needed you to know that this wasn’t your fault.

“darling, this isn’t your fault. none of this is on you. im sorry if i have ever made you feel like this was on you.”

“but you haven’t.”

“but i have though. ive been so short with you since you’ve been home. im not use to talking about how i feel.”

“why is that aaron?”

aaron turns to look at the doctor. he sighs. rubbing his hands onto his face.

“i would say it’s my job. that with what i do we always have to stay alert and keep how we personally feel aside. that may be the case but i think it’s deeper than that.”

“what do you mean?”

“growing up, my father, he wasn’t exactly a nice man. he would come home after working a case and he’d shut us down. verbally abusing us until we felt small and weak. he would call us that too if i recall. my mother was never really around. she didn’t really want children. my father was a traditional man though. marriage, kids, you name it. the physical abuse didn’t happen until he was sick. cancer. my mom would come back home just to take care of him. i assumed he felt emasculated. having his wife take care of him because he was getting weak by the day. so he took his anger out on sean and i. i took the most of it. not wanting my brother to suffer like that. if i showed any sighs of weakness while he hit me it’ll just make him angrier and hit harder. over time i became emotionless to his rage. that angered him ever more. over time he—he was too weak to hurt a fly. my mother continued to take care of him while i took care of my brother. over time my father died. we didn’t even have a proper funeral. just buried him next to my grandfather who beat him before because despite everything, that’s what he wanted. he still loved him. and in a way, i still loved my father. he was still my dad despite everything. but i showed no emotions. it’s not what he would have wanted. my brother on the other hand cried.”

“what about your mother?”

aaron scoffs. “she fell out of love with him the moment she married him. my father was known for cheating on my mom. she didn’t care much. she was different from my father. she grew up wealthy. only marrying my father because she got pregnant with me. her father forced them into marriage so she wouldn’t be labeled as the town whore and ruin their reputation. my father worked hard for his money. growing up lower middle class he had to. in a way my relationship with my mom was far worse than my father. at least my father showed some kind of affection. my mom was emotionless. only caring about her reputation and how she was perceived. i believe that’s why she took care of my father in the first place. instead of hiring someone to do it. so she could brag to her posh friends about how much of a great wife and mother she was.”

“is she still living today?”

aaron hums. “haven’t spoken to her since she met my late wife, haley. she didn’t like haley. never wanted me to marry her.”

“why’s that?”

“because—because she wasn’t as wealthy as us. she was middle class, haley. because of that my mother didn’t find her worthy. she didn’t want me to have a loveless marriage like hers. her words exactly. she doesn’t know a thing about my life. she doesn’t know about jack, haley’s passing, me getting remarried. nothing!”

“do you think she’d like yn?”

aaron avoid your eyes. he wanted to avoid the question altogether. he knew she wouldn’t. the why is what pissed him off and made him feel ashamed.

“aaron?”

he clears his throat. “no.”

“and why not?”

“because—my mom wasn’t racist. not in the sense you would think. she never called anyone who was of color a slur. but she was raised to believe that you should marry your own kind of people. that mixing up your ‘values’ with others would only confuse your children in the end.”

you had no idea aarons mother was that way. only knowing the details he explained about his father. he never talked about his mom. now you understand why.

“aaron, i had no idea. why didn’t you tell me?”

“because i felt ashamed. ashamed of having her as a mother.”

“you shouldn’t feel that way though aaron. she doesn’t speak for you or for our kids.”

aaron holds your hand.

“listening to you both and hearing your family history, i think it’s safe to say that you, yn, you have a hard time listening to others. you’re so afraid to find out the truth because it could potentially hurt you. it’s why you stopped talking to your siblings in the end. you knew they knew something about your father. it’s why you ran when your biological father told you the truth. and it’s why you left aaron. you were afraid if he came home that night and you pressed him on the issue he would admit his feelings for his ex wife and leave you. it’s why you left first. you didn’t wanna face the reality that the one good thing in your life for the longest time would end.”

you look at aaron. knowing what she was saying was absolutely true.

“and you aaron, you’re afraid of being yourself. showing any emotion is a sign of weakness all because of your father. you also don’t wanna end up like him. to raise your kids that way. it’s why you most likely teach them it’s okay to express themselves. showing them that having emotions and feelings is part of being human. you have this fear that your marriage could fail again and maybe your mother was right. maybe mixing classes and culture could ruin a marriage. but it makes you feel guilty. one of the reasons why you pushed your first marriage away and tried to push your second marriage away.”

aaron grabs your hand. he gently rubs it. feeling all kinds of guilt with what the doctor states.

“but neither of you are seeing the reality of it all. you both willingly came to therapy because you want to fix this marriage. you want this to work out. not only for the kids. but also for yourselves. i noticed that the moment the both of you spoke. have you ever stopped to notice you’re both still wearing your wedding bands? and you still call each other husband and wife, despite being divorced for the last few years? it’s because a piece of paper doesn’t determine your love for one another. you two are still married and have been even with the separation.”

the two of you look at one another lovingly. you loved each other. despite the past, the despite your childhood, despite the divorce, the drama! you loved him and he loved you.

i changed the story title and also made a playlist! each part will have a new song added to it. it will be titled the same as the song

anyway there is a tiny bit of a foreshadowing here so 👀

hoped you enjoyed

if you wanna be added or unadded to the taglist please let me know

taglist:

@ivebeenthearchersstuff @shergoretzxx @slut4ethan @rosiehale23 @madesavage05 @whotfskai @vodkori @zaddyhotch @14buddy22

#aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotch fic #criminal minds #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #quest jqhotchner

[zanazirafanfic]

RDR Event Timeline (Canon + Headcanon)

This is the timeline I have constructed and use for all of my Red Dead writings. Canon event dates/ages are taken from the Red Dead Wiki, and headcanon estimations for more ambiguous events/characters are based on their approximate ages in-game by 1899 and what makes the most logical sense to me based on that timeline.

Please feel free to use this as a reference for your own works too, if it helps. (Canon events are noted as such, and my headcanons are labeled "HC.")

1839 - Uncle born (HC)

1844 - Hosea Matthews born (Canon)

1845 - Rains Fall born (HC)

1846 - Leopold Stauss born (HC)

1850 - Susan Grimshaw born (HC)

1853 - Orville Swanson born (HC)

1855 - Dutch Van der Linde born (Canon)

1857 - Josiah Trelawney born (HC)

1860 - Micah Bell III born (Canon) (newspaper clipping mentions Micah Bell Jr. robbing with his 17-year-old son in 1877)

1861 - Simon Pearson born (HC)

1863 - Arthur Morgan born (Canon)

1866 - Bill Williamson born (Canon)

1870 - Dutch leaves home aged 15 (Canon); Kieran Duffy born (HC)

1871 - Sadie Adler born (HC)

1872 - Charles Smith born (HC) (based on est. age of 27 in 1899)

1873 - John Marston born (Canon); Javier Escuella born (HC)

1874 - Lyle Morgan arrested and hanged, Arthur orphaned (Canon); Molly O'Shea born (HC)

1875 - Karen Jones born (HC)

1876 - Dutch and Hosea meet outside of Chicago, IL (Canon); Sean MacGuire born (HC)

1877 - Abigail Roberts born; Arthur joins the gang, aged 14 (Canon)

1878 - Eagle Flies born (HC)

1879 - Tilly Jackson and MaryBeth Gaskill born (HC)

1880 - Lenny Summers born (Canon)

1881 - John Marston's father dies, John orphaned (Canon)

1882- Annabelle and Bessie join the gang (HC)

1883 - Bessie and Hosea marry and leave the gang (Canon); Arthur meets and begins dating Mary Gillis (HC) (Jamie Gillis references both Annabelle and Bessie during the mission in Chapter 2, so IMO this would've been the most likely time for all 3 to have met one another.)

1884 - Dutch kills Colm O'Driscoll's unnamed brother, Annabelle killed by Colm in retaliation; Hosea returns to the gang (HC)

1885 - John Marston and Susan Grimshaw join the gang (Canon); Charles Smith leaves home, aged 13 (HC) (based on est. DOB 1872)

1886 - Arthur proposes to and subsequently breaks up with Mary in the springtime; Arthur meets Eliza (19) later in the year, and Isaac is conceived (HC)

1887 - Lee & Hoyt Bank Robbery, April (Canon); Isaac Morgan born (HC) (According to Arthur in-game, Eliza only knew who he was after she got pregnant. Based on this they most likely met in late 1886 or very early 1887, with the bank robbery in April '87 and Isaac born that autumn.)

1888 - Death of Bessie Matthews (HC) (based on the assumption that she passed some time before Arthur lost his son. Her cause of death is never specified in canon, but I HC it was a fairly quick battle with pneumonia over the winter.)

1891 - Isaac Morgan (4) and Eliza (23) killed in a home robbery (HC)

1892 - Bill Williamson dishonorably discharged from the U.S. Army (Canon); Uncle joins the gang (HC)

1893 - Bill Williamson joins the gang (Canon)

1894 - Abigail Roberts joins the gang, introduced to them by Uncle (Canon)

1895 - Jack Marston born; Javier joins the gang (Canon)

1896 - John Marston leaves the gang; Jake and Sadie Adler marry in September (Canon)

1897 - John Marston returns to the gang after a year (Canon)

1898 - Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, and Jenny Kirk join the gang (Canon)

1899 - Blackwater Massacre; dissolving of the Van der Linde gang; deaths of Jenny Kirk, Mac and Davey Callender, Sean MacGuire, Kieran Duffy, Hosea Matthews, Lenny Summers, Molly O'Shea, Eagle Flies, Susan Grimshaw, and Arthur Morgan (Canon)

1907 - Construction of Beecher's Hope ranch; John and Abigail marry; death of Micah Bell III (Canon)

1911 - Kidnapping of Abigail and Jack Marston by the U.S. Government in exchange for John's cooperation; deaths of Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Dutch Van der Linde, Uncle, and John Marston (Canon)

1914 - Death of Abigail Marston; Jack Marston kills Edgar Ross to avenge his father's murder (Canon)

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #fanfiction #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr fanfic #red dead redemption timeline #writing resources #canon compliant #heacanons #zanazirawrites