#Children's Party Tent

[pagoda-inflatable-tents]

How to Choose the Ideal Inflatable Tent for a Party

How to Choose the Ideal Inflatable Tent for a Party Inflatable tents, a stylish choice for the modern party scene, are quickly becoming the center of attention at outdoor events due to their convenience, unique design and practical features. Whether you're hosting a birthday party, corporate event, wedding, or holiday celebration, inflatable tents can add creativity and comfort to your party. At pagoda-tent.com, you can find a wide range of inflatable tents for every event need. In this article, we will delve into how to choose and use inflatable tents to create the perfect party scene.

Advantages of inflatable tents Quick setup and easy to use Inflatable tents are known for their quick set up and take down. Compared to traditional frame tents, inflatable tents do not require complicated steel frames or support structures. With a built-in air pump, you can inflate the tent in just a few minutes, making it ideal for temporary event venues or parties that need to set up quickly. In addition, inflatable tents are lightweight and easy to transport, making them particularly suitable for events that take place in a variety of venues.

Diverse design and theme options Inflatable tents come in a wide variety of designs to suit different types of party scenes. From the classic dome shape to funky cartoon or themed tents, all can be chosen according to the needs of the event. More than just a practical shelter, these tents can be the visual highlight of a party and a centerpiece to attract guests. For example, for children's birthday parties, you can choose cartoon inflatable tents with unique shapes and bright colors, while for corporate events or weddings, you can choose more high-end and elegant designs.

Environmentally Friendly and Safe Inflatable tents are made from environmentally friendly materials that are durable and safe. They are usually made of thickened PVC or TPU material, which is wind and water resistant. In addition, there are no sharp structures inside the inflatable tent, making it especially suitable for party environments with small children. The tent can be freely ventilated around the perimeter and has a good air circulation design to ensure a comfortable experience for guests inside the tent.

How to choose the right inflatable tent on pagoda-tent.com Browse a wide range of styles and types On pagoda-tent.com, you'll find a wide variety of inflatable tent styles and options, whether you're looking for a tent for a birthday party, wedding, corporate event, or holiday celebration. Common styles include:

Dome inflatable tents: modern and stylish in appearance, perfect for large parties or corporate events, offering enough interior space for a stage, catering area and performance space. Cartoon themed inflatable tents: suitable for children's parties or fun events, with a unique look that can surprise the little ones. Transparent Inflatable Tent: With its simple and stylish design, this type of tent is especially suitable for weddings or romantic outdoor dinners. The transparent material allows guests to enjoy the beautiful scenery outside while enjoying the cozy atmosphere inside the tent. Choose the right size and capacity One of the most important considerations when choosing an inflatable tent is the size and capacity of the tent. Depending on the size of the event, you need to make sure that the tent will be able to accommodate all of your guests and provide enough space to move around. On pagoda-tent.com, you can find different sizes of tents depending on the number of guests. Here are some common suggestions:

Small parties: for small parties of 20-50 people, you can opt for small inflatable tents. These tents have a small footprint, are easy to set up quickly and are perfect for garden parties or small family gatherings. MEDIUM-SIZED EVENT: If your event has 50-100 people, it is recommended to choose a medium-sized inflatable tent. These tents offer more interior space for tables, chairs, catering areas and entertainment, perfect for birthday parties, corporate events or holiday gatherings. Large Events: For large celebrations or outdoor events with more than 100 people, you can opt for a large inflatable tent. Often equipped with higher ceilings and expansive interiors, these tents are suitable for staging, lighting and sound equipment and can create a true party centerpiece. Customization Options and Accessories At pagoda-tent.com, many tent rental services offer personalization options. You can customize your tent's colors, graphics, and even add your company or party logo based on the theme of your party. In addition, you can also choose complementary amenities such as LED lighting, built-in sound system, floor mats, or air conditioning system to enhance the overall experience of your event.

Tips for setting up and using the inflatable tent Quick inflation and fixing Inflatable tents are very easy to set up and are usually equipped with an electric air pump. All you need to do is to connect the pump to the power source and the tent will be inflated within minutes. In order to ensure the stability of the tent, it is recommended to

[joemama-2]

throughout the entire ceremony and reception, gojo can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. maybe it’s the excitement of finally being husband and wife, or the sheer thrill of what’s to come afterwards.

because everyone knows, the after party is always better than the actual event.

you just look so beautiful, so enchanting, so….his. it’s a pain to just opt for making out in the back of the limo on the way back to your hotel because he’s forcing himself to wait. wait until you two are finally alone. wait until he can just finally show you much of a good husband he is.

there’s rose pedals, a glass of champagne, a huge heart shaped bed, dim lighting, a spacious suite, a beautiful balcony that overlooks the darkened tokyo skyline. it smells like warm sugar.

everything is perfect.

well, not as perfect as seeing you lay down on the bed, still in that expensive, but memorable white dress. your hair down and slightly messy from the dancing and alcohol. cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on your face. he mirrors your expression, his own inebriation coming into play because you weren’t the only one who drank more than you could handle.

he’s unbuttoning his white button up, freeing his broad chest. working next on the belt of his slacks that are too tight to hide his growing tent. all the while, he’s keeping his eyes on yours. stalking towards your figure on the bed. he starts by raising your ankles, your heels having been discarded already.

planting kiss after kiss, the tip of his nose being shoved against your skin as he inhales your scent deeply. he’s working his way up from your white, manicured toenail to your tempting cleavage, then to the crook of your neck, the top of your hair, and finally…your lips.

it’s a sweet and soft kiss, one that lingers and one that further solidifies the new union of love between two souls.

it’s only when he pulls back, breath mingling with yours, eyes glued to each other, his hands paused on your thighs, body slotted between them, that he realizes…

you’re his wife.

it’s his wedding night, and you’re here as his wife, his life-long partner. the woman who he’ll stay with through sickness and good health, and vice versa. the woman he’ll have children with. the woman he’ll grow old with. the woman who he’ll be buried with, his skeleton cradling yours until enough time has passed on earth where you two are nothing but a faded memory for your future generations.

his wife.

his wife who’s currently laid out in front like an offering to him.

yeah, he’s breaking the bed.

[falesten-iw]

What makes you react to what's happening in Gaza? and What makes you care about human lives? Is it empathy, ideology, culture, religion, knowledge, or something else that compels you to feel and act?

What would push your government to stop saying, "Israel has the right to defend itself"? What would make columnists stop focusing on self defense and what the demonstrators or students are doing "wrong" and instead use their platform to pressure their government to do what's "right" to stop this ongoing genocide? When did you start caring, and when will you start acting?

Is it when you have Palestinian friends?

When Palestinian children begged for food, safety, and water?

When over 45000 Palestinians had been killed & 98000 injured ?

When left-wing political parties around the world started criticizing Israel?

When Palestinian and Israeli human rights organizations sounded the alarm for years?

When protesters took to the streets every week? Do you still hear their voices?

When human rights organizations like Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch documented the atrocities? Was 60 years of human rights violations not enough?

When journalism associations worldwide recorded an unprecedented number of journalists killed in such a short period?

When UN agencies like the World Food Program or UNRWA reported on the humanitarian disaster and worsening famine?

When aid organizations like Doctors Without Borders or the Red Cross warned of the total collapse of healthcare?

When child rights organizations like Save the Children or UNICEF constantly reported on children’s acute physical and mental health crises?

When Jewish groups like Jewish Voice for Peace declared, "Not in my name"?

When the International Criminal Court in The Hague found strong evidence of crimes against humanity and began prosecuting high-ranking officials? Are you waiting for the court to tell you act?

When your children were upset after hearing what was happening in Gaza? Did that stir your parental instincts?

When the EU's foreign policy chief, Josep Borrell, repeatedly urged Israel to stop the killings?

When your favorite artist spoke out—did that make you reflect?

When students protested at universities around the world? Does the passion of young people give you hope?

When the Pope made a statement about the situation?

When military experts reported how many bombs Israel had dropped on Gaza?

When 2.5 million people were displaced under bombardment, with nowhere to escape in Gaza—a place already called the world’s largest open-air prison even before October 7?

When your employer gave you permission to speak out?

Are you waiting for Joe Biden to say the red line has been crossed and stop sending weapons?

Or are you waiting for Donald Trump to say the magic words: "Enough is enough"?

Or for Benjamin Netanyahu to say "Oh sorry that was a mistake"?

Or are you waiting for God Almighty to come down and say, "Enough is enough"?

Or for the most extreme elements in the Israeli government to say, "Now we can stop bombing"—but will there be any Palestinians left in Gaza by then?

Or will you stop waiting and act now, driven by empathy, knowledge, and solidarity with people who are being oppressed right in fornt or your eyes?

I’ve lost over 200 family members, friends, and neighbors in this genocide. I have 24 of my family’s members and 2 orphaned children, trapped in a makeshift tent and struggling to survive in this freezing winter in Gaza. Is that not enough to move you to act? Tell me then when ?—when will your humanity compel you to step in? Please, act now and donate!

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

@mesetacadre @forevergulag @gazafunds @northgazaupdates2 @freepalestinneee

@komsomolka @muppet-sex @nabulsi @fading-event-608 @buttercuparry

@prierepaiienne @interact-if @unified-multiversal-theory @inkstay

@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy @fightforhumanity-rpg-blog

@fightforhumanity-rp @queerandpresentdanger @90-ghost @timogsilangan @punkitt-is-here

@fox-guardian @hiveswap @valtsv @helppeople @ibtisams

@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @vakarians-babe @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @tamamita

@apollos-boyfriend @akajustmerry @marnosc @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides

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[bubbletent]

Our collection of children's bouncy castles is second to none. From vibrant and colorful designs to themed castles that ignite the imagination, we've got options for every taste. Safety is our top priority, so you can rest easy knowing our bouncy castles are constructed with the highest quality materials and adhere to strict safety standards.

[perkwunos]

But there’s a cruel reality behind the decision to track right: The campaign, once it hitched its wagon to Biden’s policy of unqualified support for genocide in Gaza, really had no other choice. In 2020, the Biden campaign tentatively rode the progressive wave of the George Floyd protests, anger about Trump’s racist border policies, Covid activism, and anti-war protests against Saudi Arabia’s destruction of Yemen to energize the Democratic Party base to defeat Trump. It was, in retrospect, mostly lip service, and certainly no one at the time thought Biden a firebrand progressive. But the broader theme of the campaign was that everyone would have a seat at the table, even if the plate would most likely end up being empty.

Harris made no such pretensions, because any strategy that played to similar themes would have had to address the elephant in the room: the Democratic Party’s ​“ironclad” support for Israel’s elimination of a people in whole or in part. And this simply would not have worked. One can’t really bank on activist energy, youth turnout, and base-mobilizing when those involved — while canvassing together, or running phone banks at each others apartments, or getting drinks afterwards — have to awkwardly address the fact of genocide and their candidate’s support for it. This isn’t to say there was no activist or youth energy in the campaign — clearly there was. But those in charge quickly decided against making this their central theme and vote-gathering strategy, given the uncomfortable questions that would naturally arise from campaigning in these spaces. So Liz Cheney and her negative-2 favorables it was. 

Countless pro-Democratic Party pundits tried to warn Harris. Polls were commissioned. The Uncommitted Movement very politely, and well within the bounds of loyal party politics, begged Harris to change course. But she refused. The risk, to her, was worth sticking to the unshakable commitment to ​“eliminating Hamas” no matter how many dead Palestinian children it required, or the degree to which images and reports of these dead children would fuel cynicism and create an opening for Trump to win. 

... Turning every party advocate into a dead-eyed trolley problem expert triaging which genocide was morally preferable may have made cold logical sense, but it was hardly an inspiring message. Making it less compelling was that, by and large, it was not a position emanating from Palestinians themselves, as virtually every major Palestinian organization and the sole Palestinian-American in Congress, Rashida Tlaib, refused to endorse Harris.

[ma7moudgaza2]

00:00 😞

1 / 1 / 2025🎉

Usually, at this time every year, part of the world is immersed in New Year celebrations.

The world is experiencing a deep rift that affects the being and nature of man, and humanity is facing great embarrassment that puts the humanity of human beings at stake. How is it possible to hold weddings and participate in parties while a part of humanity is within sight and subjected to the most horrific forms of killing and extermination for fifteen months? How can a person be reconciled with himself, and he claims that he receives a year in which he hopes for peace, success and tranquility what he hopes for, and he sees with his own eyes a world that dances to the rhythm of the screams of thousands of dead children torn their bodies on roads and hospitals, not to mention their horns, scared of the whizzing of planes, the sounds of explosions, the sounds of cannons and guns, and on top of that, their groans, hunger and thirst for the loss of water, food, milk and bread?!

Yes, pains have never prevented man from joy. And yes, we are in a vast world with which some human beings cannot stop their lives because other human beings suffer and die, and this has always been the religion of the world and still.But the genocide has been long and continues until now

How can Western society show its solidarity with the Palestinian cause in light of these celebrations?

You can make your celebrations a popular demonstration that cheers for the Palestinian cause or show a symbol of sympathy from you as the flag of Palestine in these celebrations and atmospheres in the center of the town

You can share publications on social media about the Palestinian cause and what the people of Gaza are appointing in light of this cold weather in refugee tents

The best of solidarity and the best of what the people of Gaza need is to donate to them. You can help me and the families of Gaza by sharing the links of their campaigns or donating to them.

This is the link of my campaign. I am doing this effort and working to get money to provide a better life for me and my family. Make your participation in New Year's celebrations a part for me and my cause, be the man of gifts for this year and give a gift to my family that is the cold, hunger and bombing in Gaza!!

If you can’t donate here please do this in this link PAYPAL

[monamoon8]

These are Omar(2) and Salah(5), Bilal's nephews. 8 months ago, they were enjoying the warmth of their home and being pampered by their parents and everyone in the family. The pictures below are from Omar's first birthday. Bilal told me how he was the one who prepared everything for the surprise party. He was,then, so excited to gather the whole family and give Omar a memorable first birthday and bring joy to everybody.

Now, Omar and Salah are going through hardships no child should be experiencing. They are surrounded by rubble and unsanitary conditions wherever they go; not to mention the random bombings that threaten their lives every moment of every day. Omar took his first steps while being displaced in a tent in Rafah. Imagine your baby learning to walk in a refugee camp under the constant buzzing of drones! The children and the whole family had to endure the cold winter and being drenched by rain in their flimsy tent, and now they have to go through the unbearable heat in the same inhumane circumstances. As if all this suffering wasn't enough, the occupation is currently asking everyone in Rafah to evacuate again, even the hospitals!

The survival of Omar, Salah, and the whole family in now more than ever at stake. Bilal has been in Germany for a year or so now. The thought that he might never get to see his beloved nephews again haunts him every day. He humbly asks for your support to help him keep his loved ones safe until he has the chance to reunite with them, hopefully as soon as possible. Please donate any amount you can spare and reblog this post. Every contribution can make a difference and restore the family's hope!

[autobahnmp3]

i forgot that it's still election week so there were still a lot lf ppl today

[probablyasocialecologist]

Reporting from multiple outlets suggests that Trump and his Middle East envoy, Steve Witkoff, played a decisive role in forcing Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s hand. In a January 7 press conference from Mar-a-Lago, Trump warned that “all hell will break out” if a hostage deal wasn’t reached before his inauguration. “It wasn’t a warning to Hamas. It was a warning to Netanyahu,” Steve Bannon told Politico, which also quoted former Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert as saying Netanyahu agreed to the deal “because he’s afraid of Trump.” “The prime minister was dragged into this deal against his will and was unable to resist. He understood the consequences of disappointing Trump even before he reached the White House,” a Netanyahu associate told Al-Monitor, which also cited a former top Israeli official who said, “Netanyahu knows that with Trump he will not be able to wipe the floor as he did with Democratic presidents—like Clinton, Obama and Biden.” Witkoff reportedly told the Israeli prime minister to his face: “Don’t fuck this up.” And Netanyahu has already paid a political price: this past weekend, Israel’s settler-extremist national security minister Itamar Ben-Gvir resigned from Netanyahu’s shaky far-right governing coalition over the ceasefire deal, after standing with Netanyahu for fifteen months of genocidal warfare backed by the Biden administration.

[...]

In the same week that the ceasefire deal was tentatively announced, two other stories broke that spotlighted the extent of Biden’s moral and political failure in Palestine. One was The Lancet’s publication, subsequently covered in the New York Times, of a peer-reviewed study of traumatic injury deaths in the Gaza Strip from October 7, 2023 through June 30, 2024. The study estimated that the Palestinian Ministry of Health underreported such deaths by 41 percent during that period, and that over 64,000 Palestinians, many of them women and children, had died from traumatic injury, a figure that does not include the untold thousands more who died of starvation or disease resulting from Israel’s bombardment of Gaza’s infrastructure (a previous analysis published by The Lancet estimated total Palestinian deaths to that point at over 186,000). Another six months of nonstop devastation in Gaza have passed since the data for The Lancet study was collected. The exact casualty numbers may never be known and in a sense are irrelevant, as no one seriously doubts that Israel has inflicted indiscriminate collective punishment against a captive civilian population, in what has been declared a genocide by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and multiple world-renowned genocide experts (including some initial skeptics), and ruled at least “plausibly” genocidal by the International Court of Justice. The other story that broke last week was an Institute for Middle East Understanding poll that made the most plausible case to date that Biden’s handling of Gaza might have cost Harris the election. Unlike most polls, which focus on what voters overall in 2024 prioritized in the presidential race—typically, economic issues like inflation—the IMEU poll focuses on the millions of Biden 2020 voters who opted for a candidate other than Harris in 2024, whether that meant Trump or a third-party candidate. Among this subset of the electorate, a 29 percent plurality named “ending Israel’s violence in Gaza” as the most important issue in deciding their vote, with even higher percentages in the key battleground states of Arizona, Michigan, and Wisconsin. While no single factor can account for Harris’s shutout in all seven battleground states or Trump’s popular vote win, the IMEU poll provides strong evidence for what seemed anecdotally obvious throughout last year: the Biden-Harris team’s unapologetic support for Israel’s genocide alienated meaningful numbers of potential supporters.

21 January 2025

[novaursa]

https://youtu.be/qillYsPzEs0?si=zWRzrkWUSQ-jRaTA

Can you do this just with the Targaryens and Lannister? Sister!reader Targaryen vs Cersie Lannister 🫣🙏🏼

Fire and Gold

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Note: In this AU Robert's Rebellion never happened. Rhaegar marries the reader, Ceresi still marries Robert after Lyanna dies in childbirth along with their child.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I hope this was what you had in mind, dear anon. The story is fresh from the oven.

You and Rhaegar have always known how to draw a crowd. The smallfolk line the roads, banners flapping in the breeze as cheers follow your every step. Rhaegar’s hand rests at the small of your back, his touch familiar and comforting. The two of you move through the throng with practiced grace, your smiles reflecting the adoration in the eyes of those gathered. The royal tour has been a triumphant journey so far, a celebration of unity and strength. Yet, beneath the surface, tensions simmer, particularly when it comes to the Lannisters.

It’s no surprise that Cersei Lannister would try to disrupt your journey. Tywin’s golden daughter has never hidden her disdain for you. You, the sister who Rhaegar chose over her, who embodies all that she desired but could never possess. Her presence is almost expected as you approach the encampment set up for the royal party. When you step inside the tent, the air is thick with unspoken tension. Rhaegar’s jaw tightens beside you, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere like a gathering storm.

Inside, Robert Baratheon looms, his massive form imposing even in stillness. Cersei stands at his side, her face twisted in fury, her eyes burning with a hatred you’ve known since you were both young girls at court. The very air seems to crackle between you. But your attention is drawn to your children and theirs, lined up in a tense, volatile standoff. Your eldest son, Aelor, stands tall, his eyes a mirror of Rhaegar’s determination. Blood stains the edge of his blade, and a long, angry gash mars Joffrey’s cheek. The boy’s face is contorted with pain and rage, his hand pressed against the wound.

“What in the name of the gods happened here?” Rhaegar’s voice is a sharp, commanding presence in the room. The knights and guards around you tense, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Robert spits, his voice dripping with contempt. “Your damn spawn attacked my son. Maimed him, Targaryen. That’s what happened.”

Aelor’s voice rings out, clear and unwavering. “He insulted us first. He insulted me, my brothers and sisters. He insulted you, Father, and you, Mother. When he drew his blade, I defended us.”

Joffrey, clutching his wounded cheek, shrieks in a high, grating voice. “Lies! He called me a Lannister bastard, and then he—”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze locking onto Cersei. It is an open secret in the court that her children bear none of the Baratheon traits, their golden hair and green eyes a reflection of the Lannister line. You’ve never spoken of it openly, but now, the accusation lingers in the air, unspoken but heavy. Cersei’s lips press into a thin line, her fury palpable.

“How dare you,” she hisses, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Your vile little whelps—”

“Enough.” Rhaegar’s voice cuts through the tumult like a blade. “They are children, Cersei. This matter is settled.”

“Settled?” Cersei’s face flushes crimson. She turns to Robert, desperation sharpening her tone. “You will let this stand, my lord? He has harmed our son!”

Robert’s eyes flicker between Rhaegar, your children, and his wife. His face is flushed, whether from drink or anger, you cannot tell. For a moment, the entire tent holds its breath, waiting for the King’s decree.

But Rhaegar steps forward, his presence filling the space. “This is over. Children quarrel. It will not be escalated further.”

Cersei’s expression is a mask of fury, her body taut with indignation. Her eyes meet yours across the tent, and for a heartbeat, it’s as if the world narrows to just the two of you. There, in her gaze, you see the depth of her resentment, the wound to her pride that will never heal. You hold her stare, your silence as cutting as any word you could utter.

Cersei’s movements that soon follow are a blur, her hand snatching the dagger from Robert’s belt with a ferocity that sends a jolt of shock through the tent. She lunges at you, the blade aimed with a deadly precision that could only be born from hate. Instinct takes over, and you reach out, catching the weapon with your bare hand before it can pierce your heart.

The sharp steel bites deep into your palm, the pain immediate and excruciating. Blood wells up, spilling over your fingers and dripping onto the ground. Gasps echo through the tent, but no one dares to intervene. Robert’s roar reverberates around you, filled with anger and disbelief. “Cersei, what are you doing?!”

Your children’s cries pierce the air, frantic and terrified. Their small voices, shrill with fear, tear at your heart. The sight of their mother locked in a deadly struggle, blood pouring from your hand, is too much for them to bear. But you can’t look away from Cersei, can’t afford a single moment of distraction.

Her face is contorted with fury, a rage so intense it seems to consume her. “You ruined everything!” she screams, her voice raw. “You were supposed to be nothing more than a bargaining chip, another mad Targaryen girl! But instead, you took him—took the life that should have been mine! And now I’m shackled to this brute, trapped in a prison of my own making because of you!”

“You chose this,” you retort, your voice low, steady, despite the pain searing through your arm. “You and your father wanted too much. You thought you could seize the crown, twist the realm to your liking. But it was never yours to take.”

Her eyes flash, and with a snarl, she presses down, driving the blade further into your grip. The pain is blinding, but you refuse to let go, even as the dagger slices across your forearm in a brutal arc. You cry out, the sound sharp and involuntary, as the blade carves a deep, angry line from wrist to elbow. Warm blood streams down your arm, pooling at your feet.

The lords and ladies around you recoil, horrified, but none move to intervene. Fear holds them frozen in place, their eyes wide, their faces pale. The tent, filled with the sound of your children’s desperate sobs, seems to close in around you.

“Look at you,” Cersei hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “Bleeding for a throne you think you’re owed, just like your father. You’re no different from him. Mad, arrogant, and dangerous.”

“And you,” you bite back, your voice shaking with pain and fury, “are nothing but a bitter, power-hungry fool. You think you can cut me down? You think you can break me? I am not my father, and I will not be cowed by you.”

With a furious cry, she shoves the blade again, but you twist, forcing the weapon away. The dagger slips from her grasp, falling to the ground with a dull thud. You stumble back, clutching your bleeding arm, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Pain throbs through every nerve, but you stand your ground, refusing to show weakness.

Rhaegar is at your side in an instant, his face ashen with worry. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice tight with concern, his hands gentle as he examines your injured arm. “Gods, what has she done to you?”

Robert steps forward, his face a mask of barely restrained fury. “Have you lost your senses, woman?” he growls, rounding on Cersei. “You draw a blade on the Princess of the Realm, on your king’s daughter? Are you so eager to invite Aerys’ wrath upon us all?”

Cersei glares back at him, her chest heaving, her hands shaking. “I don’t care!” she cries, her voice breaking. “All my life, I’ve been promised things that were taken away. I was promised Rhaegar, promised a crown, and now I’m nothing! Stuck here, with you, and this—this farce of a marriage. I’m trapped, and it’s all her fault!”

“Enough.” Robert’s voice is like a hammer striking stone, his eyes blazing with anger. “You’ve gone too far. This is beyond foolish, beyond dangerous. You think Aerys will turn a blind eye when he hears of this? His daughter bleeding at your hands?”

The name of your father seems to cut through her fury, a flicker of fear passing over her face. The threat is real—everyone knows the Mad King’s unpredictable wrath, his unquenchable thirst for vengeance. And you, his beloved daughter, lying wounded at her feet? The consequences could be catastrophic.

Rhaegar’s arms wrap around you, his touch gentle as he guides you away from the scene. “We need to get you to the maester,” he says softly, his voice tight with worry.

You nod, the pain throbbing with each heartbeat, but you keep your gaze on Cersei, refusing to look away. “Remember this, Cersei,” you say, your voice steady despite the agony. “You brought this on yourself. You chose your path, just as I chose mine. And you’ll find that you’ve made an enemy you can’t afford to have.”

With that, Rhaegar leads you out of the tent, your children trailing behind, their faces pale and tear-streaked. The lords and ladies part before you, their whispers already spreading like wildfire through the camp.

This skirmish is over, but the repercussions are only beginning.

[heritageposts]

Impossible Exodus: Iraqi Jews in Israel

By Orit Bashkin (2017, Standford University Press)

Between 1949 and 1951, 123,000 Iraqi Jews immigrated to the newly established Israeli state. Lacking the resources to absorb them all, the Israeli government resettled them in maabarot, or transit camps, relegating them to poverty. In the tents and shacks of the camps, their living conditions were squalid and unsanitary. Basic necessities like water were in short supply, when they were available at all. Rather than returning to a homeland as native sons, Iraqi Jews were newcomers in a foreign place. Impossible Exodus tells the story of these Iraqi Jews' first decades in Israel. Faced with ill treatment and discrimination from state officials, Iraqi Jews resisted: they joined Israeli political parties, demonstrated in the streets, and fought for the education of their children, leading a civil rights struggle whose legacy continues to influence contemporary debates in Israel. Orit Bashkin sheds light on their everyday lives and their determination in a new country, uncovering their long, painful transformation from Iraqi to Israeli. In doing so, she shares the resilience and humanity of a community whose story has yet to be told.

[kiwriteswords]

Do you believe in life after love? [Aaron Hotchner x Haley's Best Friend!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 7.6k|| AN: I teased this story like...months ago, yet here we are now. Sorry for the wait! I hope it was worth it?

Tags/Warnings: female reader, mentions of Haley Hotchner, spoiler to Haley Hotchner's fate, canon-typical themes, non-BAU!Reader, Reader is Haley's best friend, reconnection, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of Jack Hotchner, love after loss, potential for a part 2.

Summary: Years after Haley Hotchner's passing, Hotchner reunites with you, Haley's best friend, at Jessica's party. He never imagined the shared understanding of loss, love, and life would be within the comfort of your arms.

At Jessica's home, children's laughter sliced through the air. Aaron Hotchner stood slightly apart from the clusters of Brooks' family and friends, his gaze anchored by the sight of his son, Jack, who was cheerfully navigating the throng of party-goers.

Jack’s laughter, free and unabashed, was a balm to the ever-present ache in Aaron’s chest. An ache carved from years of accumulated loss and duty.

You arrived quietly, almost slipping into the backyard unnoticed, save for a single moment when your eyes found Aaron’s across the space.

It was as if the years peeled back in a sharp, sudden tug at his memory. You looked just as surprised to see him, your expression treading a line between joy and a sorrow that mirrored his own. 

The last time Aaron had seen you was at Haley’s funeral, a day when grief had rendered him nearly unrecognizable to himself, a shadow amid the stark reality of his loss. A day that altered his life forever, yet still felt so fresh. So far away. So much all at once.

“Aaron?” Jessica’s voice was soft, but it sliced through his reverie like a delicate knife. She gestured to you, “You remember, right? Haley’s best friend.”

Of course, he remembered. How could he not? The friendship you shared with Haley had been a tapestry of confidences and laughter, woven into the fabric of their lives.

Now, as you approached, the years collapsed into a single, acute moment of nostalgia and what-ifs.

“Hello, Aaron,” you said, your voice a gentle echo of a past that once seemed filled with endless possibilities. Your smile was tentative as if you were reaching across a chasm not just of time but of all the words left unsaid since then.

He managed to breathe your name,  his voice rough with emotions held too tightly in check. “It’s been a long time,” He paused, “Too long.” 

The party buzzed around you both, a tableau of normalcy that felt oddly jarring. Jack ran up then, grabbing Aaron’s hand with a sticky one, his face alight with the simple joy of a child at a Aaron’s eyes softened as he looked down at his son, the spitting image of joy and innocence. “In a minute, buddy.” He promised, ruffling Jack’s hair before turning back to you. You were watching Jack with an affection that spoke volumes, reconnecting Aaron not just to the present but to all the might-have-beens.

“He’s wonderful, Aaron. Just like you,” you murmured, and the compliment lodged in his throat, thick and hard to swallow.

“Thanks,” he managed quietly, the words strained as he tried to dislodge the tightness in his throat. “Haley would have loved this—seeing him so happy.”

Your eyes met his again, and he saw in them a reflection of his own pain. A shared sorrow for the life and friend you both missed. “She would have,” you agreed, your voice a mere whisper amidst the surrounding noise.

The compliment knotted in his throat, thick and hard to swallow. He often found similarities between himself and his son. Oftentimes, it was a cruel mirror into his own personality--stubborn at times, strong-willed, orderly. Then, there were times when Jack was all Haley. With a quick whip response and those eyes, Aaron often felt he was back in a room with a young Haley Brooks. 

As the afternoon shadows grew longer, casting a golden, melancholic light over the yard, Aaron found himself drawn into the easy rhythm of your conversation. It was as if each word you spoke was a thread, reconnecting him to a world he had thought permanently severed from him. 

There was a time when you had been so intertwined into his personal life that you were, without question, always there. Birthdays, holidays, and random occasions from high school until the divorce, you were Haley’s right hand. 

You talked of your travels, your career, the life you had built—a life impressive and full yet tinged with an undercurrent of solitude that Aaron understood all too well.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” Aaron said, his words not just an observation but a quiet acknowledgment of the sacrifices such a life demanded

You shrugged, a graceful tilt of your head that belied the depth of your reflection. “I’ve tried. It’s not quite what I imagined when we were all planning our futures, but…” You paused, searching for the right words. “But it’s full of chapters worth reading, even the sad ones.”

The simplicity of your metaphor struck him, the poetry of it winding through his thoughts like a vine. “I think that’s all we can ask for,” he replied, the sound of children playing a distant, sweet symphony. “Chapters worth reading.”

As the party dwindled and the evening chill settled in, Aaron felt the weight of the day begin to lift, feather-light, as if your presence had somehow begun to ease the burden he carried. Watching Jack wave goodbye to you, he realized that perhaps what he needed was not to forget, but to remember—to reconnect with those who could speak Haley’s name and share in the beauty and pain of her memory.

“Would you like to meet for coffee sometime?” Aaron asked as you were about to leave, the question an olive branch extended into the dimming light of the day.

Your smile in response was soft, yet it held the warmth of a thousand sunlit mornings. “I’d like that,” you said. And as you walked away, Aaron watched, a sense of peace settling around him like a promise, whispering of new beginnings formed from the fragments of past lives.

Not long after, the coffee shop was a quiet haven from the bustling city outside, a small universe encapsulated by the scent of freshly ground beans and the soft murmur of other patrons lost in their own worlds. Aaron Hotchner sat across from you, his fingers wrapped around a steaming cup, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before skirting away, as if direct contact might unravel him completely.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, the clink of the spoon against the ceramic cup punctuating the silence that had settled between you. The conversation had started easily enough—casual updates on life, work, mutual acquaintances—but now it meandered, lost, avoiding the one subject that linked you irreparably to one another. Haley Brooks Hotcner. 

Aaron thought back to a hallucination he'd had of Haley when unconscious, “He’s not like you, Aaron. He needs words.” 

That memory now echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of his limitations.

He watched you now, your expression thoughtful, your gaze occasionally flitting to the window as if the answers might be found in the passersby or the fall of rain against the glass. It was clear you felt it too--the weight of the unspoken, the shadow of a shared loss that was as much a part of you as your own heartbeat.

“You know, I sometimes think I’ve spent more time with ghosts than with the living,” Aaron said suddenly, his voice low, his words cutting through the noise of the shop. It was as if he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, the distance it created.

Your eyes snapped back to his, a flash of surprise there before it settled into a deep, understanding sadness. “Me too,” you confessed, the admission hanging between you, heavy and palpable. “I think that’s why I bury myself in work. If I’m always moving, maybe I won’t notice how much I miss her.”

Aaron nodded, the ghost of a smile touching his lips, not in amusement but in recognition. “I see her sometimes in Jack. In the way he laughs or the expressions he makes when he’s lost in thought. It’s both wonderful and…and heartbreaking.”

You reached across the table, your hand hovering over his for a moment before making contact. The warmth of your touch was a stark contrast to the coolness of his own skin. “She’d be proud of him, Aaron. Of you, too.”

The simplicity of your words was a balm to his frayed edges. Here, in this quiet coffee shop, you offered him a reflection of himself not as a failure or a broken man but as someone enduring, someone still capable of being seen as good in the eyes of another.

Then, there was this bitter taste in his mouth. Something deep within him could not agree with this, knowing, in part, he was at fault for his late wife’s death. 

“I’ve been trying to keep her memory alive for him, but it’s hard,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s getting older, and I’m afraid he’s starting to forget her.”

“You’re doing your best, Aaron. That’s all she would have wanted,” you said, squeezing his hand gently before pulling back. “And maybe it’s okay to let the memories shift a bit, as long as we keep the essence of her in our lives. We remember her, not just by reliving the past but by living our lives fully because that’s what she would have wanted.”

Aaron let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a certain poetry in your words, a gentle reminder that life, like a river, was constantly moving, reshaping the landscape of memory with gentle, persistent currents.

“You always were the wise one,” he said, a genuine smile breaking through the clouds of his demeanor for the first time since you’d sat down.

“And you always pretended to listen,” you teased back, the familiar banter a light in the dimness of the past hour.

As you both laughed, the weight of the conversation didn’t lessen, but it seemed, for the moment, more bearable.

Aaron realized then that healing might not come from forgetting or even from remembering but from allowing those who understood the depth of your pain to walk beside you, even if the path was one of heartache and recovery.

With you, he didn’t need to navigate his grief alone, and perhaps, in this shared journey, there was a kind of solace to be found.

Coffee had gone so well--felt so well, you invited Aaron and Jack over for dinner one night. When both of your busy schedules aligned, it felt right to spend a night off with each other. 

The evening light spilled golden and warm across your dining room, transforming the ordinary into something akin to a painting—one of those still life canvases where every detail felt intentional, every shadow perfectly placed. 

You had prepared dinner, the aroma of seasoned herbs and roasted vegetables filling the air with an inviting scent, while Aaron and Jack had arrived with dessert in tow—double chocolate cupcakes, recalling your well-known fondness for anything cocoa.

Jack had quickly found solace in the corner of the living room, building fortresses from old blocks and the occasional shout of triumph drifting into the kitchen. It left Aaron and you in the quiet bubble of the kitchen, a space that seemed to encourage confidences as naturally as it welcomed the warmth from the oven.

As you both set the table, a rhythm developed between you, a dance of old friends comfortable in each other’s orbit. The initial awkwardness that might have clung to the edges of the evening fell away, piece by piece, as you began to share stories of the past, laughter mingling with the clink of dishes and the soft background hum of the refrigerator.

“I still remember when Haley tried to bake that cake for my thirtieth birthday,” Aaron said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the memory. It was as if this once suppressed memory was at the forefront of his mind--fresh, as if it were just yesterday. “She was so determined it would be perfect.”

You laughed, the sound bright and clear. “It was perfect, if you were aiming for something resembling a volcanic eruption. I think we found frosting on the ceiling for weeks afterward.”

Aaron’s laugh joined yours, a sound that felt like it was pulled from a deeper place than he’d visited in a long time. “She was always so ambitious in the kitchen. Never quite had the timing down, though.”

The ease with which Haley’s name came up in conversation surprised him; there was no tightening in his chest, no swift detour to safer topics. Here, with you, it felt natural, a sharing of joy rather than a reopening of wounds.

“You know, she used to say the same about you and dancing,” you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow as you passed him a stack of plates.

“That’s slander,” Aaron protested, but the grin on his face belied his words. “I’ll have you know I’ve improved considerably since then.”

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Dinner passed in a similar vein, with Jack occasionally chiming in with the earnestness only a child could muster, his stories and questions weaving through the fabric of the conversation, adding his own threads to the tapestry of the evening.

As Jack eventually excused himself, retreating back to his makeshift fortress with a cupcake clutched triumphantly in his hand, you and Aaron lingered at the table, the remnants of dinner before you, the room dimming as the sun set beyond the window.

“It feels good, you know,” Aaron said after a moment, his voice soft, reflective. “Talking about her like this. I didn’t realize how much I missed just… remembering her with someone who knew her as well as I did.”

You reached across the table, your hand brushing against his. “Haley was... iis a part of us. We carry her in our stories, Aaron. It’s okay to smile when we speak her name.”

The profound simplicity of your words settled around him, a gentle embrace. It wasn’t about moving on from Haley, but rather allowing her memory to live in moments of joy and shared laughter, not just in silent reverence.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but laden with an earnestness that filled the space between you. “For this, for dinner, for the laughter… it means more than you know.”

The candles flickered low, casting dancing shadows across the table, across your faces. In this light, with the remnants of a meal shared between friends, and the laughter of his son echoing from the other room, Aaron felt a shift. A loosening of the tight bands around his chest, a breath of air fresher than he’d dared to breathe in a long time.

You smiled, a soft, knowing curve of your lips. “Anytime, Aaron. We’re not just bound by our past, but by how we choose to remember it and who we choose to share it with.”

And as the evening wore on, the darkness outside encroaching upon the windows, there was a sense of peace, of something akin to healing. Here, in this place, with you, the ghosts of the past felt less like specters and more like guardians, their presence a comfort rather than a chain. 

Haley didn’t feel so far away anymore. 

In the weeks following the dinner at your place, Aaron and you carved out moments from your relentlessly demanding schedules to spend time together. These moments were rare gems, sometimes including Jack, sometimes not--opportunities for you two to breathe a little easier.

While Aaron navigated the complexities of running the BAU, you wrestled with the responsibilities of steering a major corporation. The windows of time you both found were brief, yet they were filled with the kind of mutual understanding and ease that Aaron was beginning to realize he found nowhere else.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case that had taken Aaron across state lines and a day that had seen you in back-to-back meetings, you both found yourselves seeking solace in the quiet corner of a familiar bar, the kind of place where the lighting was dim enough to forget the outside world for a few hours.

You were both nursing drinks, the ice clinking softly against the glass in a slow, rhythmic melody. The conversation drifted naturally to the past, to shared memories of Haley, which used to be a field of landmines but now felt more like a sanctuary.

“I remember missing your birthday party when I first got promoted to unit chief,” Aaron said, a hint of old regret coloring his tone. He glanced at you, expecting perhaps a shadow of the old disappointment, but found only understanding.

You laughed softly, the sound gentle and forgiving. “Haley told me about that fight you two had. It was one of the first times she really got mad about your job, wasn’t it?”

He winced at the memory, nodding. “It was, the beginning of…the beginning of many. I hated missing it, but there was a case…there’s always a case…”

“I know,” you said, your voice a mixture of empathy and amusement. “I felt like such a hypocrite back then, trying to support her but secretly getting where you were coming from. I told her more than once, ‘You knew who you were marrying.’”

Aaron looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “And yet, here we are, both slaves to our work.”

You raised your glass in a mock salute. “Guilty as charged. But you know, you always had that drive, even back in school. Always the one aiming to be the best, even if it meant sacrificing a few parties.”

He couldn’t help but smile genuinely at that, the familiarity of your teasing a comfort in itself. “Guess some things don’t change,” he admitted. The warmth in your eyes told him you didn’t really mind that part of him—at least, not anymore.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try to find a better balance now,” you suggested, your tone light but serious. It was an invitation, he realized, to keep creating moments like these despite the chaos of their lives.

Aaron nodded, feeling the weight of the day begin to lift slightly at the prospect. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” You smiled.

The conversation drifted then to lighter topics, but a new understanding hung between you two, a silent acknowledgment of past hardships and a mutual commitment to do better in the future.

And as the night wore on, the two of you shared more stories, more laughs, each moment weaving a new layer into the fabric of your rekindling relationship. 

It was these threads, spun from old and new yarn alike, that began to form a picture neither of you had anticipated—one richer and more colorful than either of your solitary lives.

And as Aaron walked you to your car later that evening, the chill of the night air couldn’t compete with the warmth he felt inside. It was a warmth that came from shared histories, from understanding, from the possibility of a future where both could maybe, finally, find a balance. 

The next time you met up, in the sprawling park where you had decided to spend the afternoon, Jack was a small figure of boundless energy, darting between trees and playground structures with the uninhibited joy that only a child could harness. Aaron and you sat on a nearby bench, an island of calm observance in the sea of laughter and distant shouts.

Casually, almost as if the question had been carried to him on the gentle breeze, Aaron turned to you. "Did you ever think about settling down?" 

His voice was soft, careful, not wanting to disturb the ease of the afternoon. Looking around, he wondered if this was a life you ever wanted for yourself. 

You watched Jack for a moment, considering the question. The answer felt weighted, more substantial in his presence. "It was hard," you began, your eyes still following Jack's movements. "I just never found the one who could understand me, you know?"

There was a pause, the kind filled with the rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds. Then you turned to him, your gaze thoughtful. "What about you, Aaron? Did you ever think about putting yourself out there again after Haley?"

He followed your gaze back to Jack, a soft sigh escaping him. "I tried once—with someone named Beth. But the timing was never right." Aaron’s words hung briefly in the air. "I found it hard to open up about Haley. It was like this... elephant in the room with her."

Your response was gentle, tinged with understanding. "It doesn’t feel like the elephant in the room when we talk, does it?" The simplicity of your observation struck a chord within him. You continued, "Haley was my best friend. Losing her, I became so closed off.” You let out a breath of frustration with yourself,  “I understand you, Aaron. Maybe not in the same way, but…but I do get it."

He nodded, the autumn sunlight catching in his eyes, lending them a momentary sparkle. "With you, I can talk about Haley without the pain overwhelming me. And I don’t feel the need to hide that pain to protect you because... because you miss her just the same."

It was true; with you, Haley’s memory was a shared space, filled with both joy and sorrow, where neither had to tread lightly. Aaron felt a sense of relief, a loosening of a knot inside him that he hadn’t even realized was there until now.

"You know," Aaron started, turning to look at you fully. "It's strange, but talking to you about her, about everything really, it makes me feel like I'm not just living in the past, but that I'm actually moving forward."

Your smile then was like a warm blanket, comforting and inviting. "That’s because we are moving forward, Aaron. We’re carrying her with us, not letting her drag us back." 

You reached for his hand on his lap then, covering it with your own. It was like instinct for him to turn his hand and hold yours. Neither of you pointed it out or moved, but sat there intertwined. 

Jack's laughter broke through the seriousness of your conversation, pulling both your attention back to the present. Watching him play, a symbol of life's relentless march forward, seemed to underline your words.

Aaron felt a profound gratitude then, not just for your presence, which had become a steady beacon in his recent life, but for the peace that came with it…a peace that allowed him to look at the future with a sense of hope, rather than just duty. 

Then again, life happens and Aaron Hotchner was far from the perfect person. He clung to old habits like a lifeline, and compartmentalizing was one of them. 

It was only days later, when Aaron picked up the phone, his voice was flat, the edges sharp with fatigue. "I think I need to cancel our coffee today," he said, each word heavier than the last. The recent case had dredged up memories best left buried, memories of a mother's tragic end and a child hiding just a room away—echoes of his own past horrors with Haley and Jack.

On the other end of the line, your intuition cut through his attempted nonchalance. "Aaron, you're self-isolating again. It's not good for you," you countered, your voice firm yet laced with concern. "You've always been your own worst enemy in these moments."

He sighed, a sound that spoke of battles fought silently within. "I just need some time—"

"No," you interjected, the decision clear in your tone. "I'm coming over. Don’t argue with me."

Moments later, you were at his door. A tray with two coffees in one hand, still in your crisp business attire, a stark contrast to Aaron's disheveled appearance. He looked worn, like a book left out in the rain, pages wrinkled and ink run. He opened the door with a look that was less than amused but resigned, knowing better than to argue with you.

Without waiting for an invitation, you stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click that seemed to seal off the outside world. You reached for his hand, his skin cool and slightly rough, pulling him gently but with undeniable resolve toward the couch.

Placing the coffee tray on the table, Hotch noticed one cup marked just how he liked his, the other…just how you took yours. 

"Talk to me," you urged as you both sat down, your presence a grounding force.

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on his hands. The silence stretched, thin and taut, until it was filled with his deep, uneven breaths. "It was a mother," he began, the words catching slightly. "Killed while her child hid in the next room. I couldn't stop thinking about—about Haley. And Jack." His voice was a raw whisper, stripped of the usual composure.

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing against his, a silent signal of support. "It’s okay to feel this, Aaron. It’s human. And it’s okay to talk about it, especially with me."

Aaron looked at you then, his brown eyes searching yours for something like absolution. "Every time it feels like I'm back there again. Not just remembering, but reliving it. I’m supposed to be past this."

"Being past it doesn't mean forgetting, Aaron. It doesn’t mean you won’t ever feel it again," you said softly. "It means you learn how to carry it with you without letting it pull you under. And you let people help carry it with you."

He absorbed your words, the tension in him unwinding slightly. "It’s hard. I always think I need to protect everyone—from the job, from my past. From myself."

"But you don’t need to protect me," you reassured him, your hand finding his, fingers intertwining naturally. "Not from this. I knew Haley, too. I lost her as well. And I know you."

That connection, the shared past and understanding, seemed to reach him, soothing the rough edges of his pain. "Thank you," he said after a long pause, his voice steadier. "For not letting me push you away."

"As if you could," you replied with a gentle smile, the kind that warmed him from the inside out, making the shadows in his mind recede just a bit.

As the silence settled between you and Aaron, thick with shared understanding and newly voiced fears, something shifted perceptibly in the atmosphere. He glanced at you, seeing not just the friend he had known for years, but a beacon in the often tumultuous storm of his life. Your presence, always reassuring, seemed especially vital today.

"Thank you," he murmured again, the words inadequate for the gratitude swirling within him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Aaron opened his arms—an invitation rather than an imposition. You didn’t hesitate; you leaned into him, and he enveloped you in an embrace.

It was a simple hug, initially meant to be a brief comfort, but the moment your arms wrapped around him, something profound stirred in Aaron’s chest. How long had it been since he received this level of comfort? 

The warmth from your body, the gentle pressure of your arms around him, it was grounding, a tangible reminder that he wasn’t alone. His own arms tightened slightly, pulling you closer, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel.

The sensation was unexpectedly healing. Here, in this quiet embrace, the world’s demands faded to a distant murmur. Aaron’s breaths deepened, syncing with yours, and a sense of calm spread through him. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself the simple comfort of a heartfelt hug--it was a balm to the lingering ache of old scars, a reminder that physical closeness could bridge the gaps words sometimes couldn’t.

He realized, perhaps for the first time, how starved he had been for this kind of simple, human connection. With you, it felt right, unforced, and incredibly soothing. 

The hug spoke of mutual losses and mutual support, a physical manifestation of the emotional scaffolding you had built together over your recent conversations.

As you finally pulled back, there was a softness in his gaze, a thankfulness. "I needed that more than I knew," Aaron confessed, his voice a low rumble that resonated with newfound clarity.

"You're not alone, Aaron," you reiterated, your hand squeezing his arm reassuringly. "You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

That moment, that hug, marked a turning point for him. In the simplicity of that gesture, Aaron found a profound truth—the strength of vulnerability, the courage found in sharing one's burdens. And perhaps most importantly, he recognized the potential for healing, for moving forward not just in solitude, but alongside someone who understood the deepest shadows of his past.

From there, the foundation for something deeper than friendship began to solidify, each shared touch and word laying down another stone.

The following weekend, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, Aaron found himself at a local park. You were there too, a serene figure seated on a bench, a book forgotten in your lap as you watched Jack spiritedly kick a soccer ball across the grass. The scene was bathed in soft, gentle sunlight, turning mundane moments into something akin to a painted landscape.

As Aaron approached, your face lit up with a genuine smile, the kind that reached your eyes and tugged at something deep within him—a realization that moments like these had become the highlights of his week.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice carrying a warmth reserved just for these occasions.

“Hi, Aaron,” you responded, your attention shifting fully to him. Jack noticed his arrival, too and ran over, his face flushed with the exertion and excitement. After a quick hug and a rundown of his self-proclaimed spectacular goals, Jack returned to his game, leaving you and Aaron in a comfortable solitude.

Sitting beside you, Aaron felt an ease settle around him, the kind that only your presence could bring. The park around them buzzed with life, children’s laughter piercing through the air like music notes, but on your shared bench, there was a bubble of peaceful quiet.

“It’s beautiful today,” you commented, gesturing subtly at the scenery around you.

“It is,” Aaron agreed, but his eyes were on you, appreciating the way the sunlight danced across your features. The scene was idyllic, almost painfully so, highlighting what life could be—what he wanted it to be. And as he watched you, a thought crystallized in his mind, clear and urgent in its sudden appearance.

He turned to you fully, his expression contemplative, the lines of duty and years softening in the tranquil park setting.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Aaron began, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at the gravity of his thoughts. His eyes met yours, seeking a sign of readiness for the words he was about to share.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue, your own expression a mirror of openness and quiet support.

“It’s about us. How we’ve…we have been spending more time together. It’s made a significant difference, at least for me. For Jack, too, I know that,” he said, his gaze drifting to where Jack was playing before settling back on you. “I find myself looking forward to our moments together... more than I anticipated.”

The admission hung in the air, tender and formidable. You took a deep breath, visibly moved by his honesty. “Aaron, I feel the same,” you replied softly. “There’s a comfort with you, a familiarity that doesn’t just stem from knowing each other as awkward teenagers.”

Aaron’s heart thudded with a mix of relief and burgeoning joy. This was the confirmation he needed, yet he proceeded with caution, aware of the delicate threads of a new beginning being woven between them.

Following the conversation in the park, the meetups, phone calls, and comfort continued as usual. The new normal. A normal neither of you could do without.

In the soft glow of the BAU’s late evening lights, Aaron Hotchner was hastily packing up his things, his movements brisk and somewhat scattered.

A rare sight for someone usually so composed. His briefcase snapped shut, a sound crisp in the quiet of the near-empty office. As he stood to leave, Rossi, ever observant, stood in the doorway of his office and raised an eyebrow.

“Got a hot date or something?” Rossi’s tone was teasing, but his eyes were sharp, missing nothing.

“No, just dinner with a friend,” Aaron replied, adjusting his tie out of habit more than necessity. “La Vie?” Aaron listed off the restaurant, knowing the foodie in Rossi would ask that next.

Rossi chuckled, leaning against the doorway. “That’s a pretty fancy restaurant for just a friend, isn’t it?” 

Aaron paused, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “No? We're just catching up. The food is supposed to be good there?”

“Is this friend a woman?” Rossi prodded, his interest piqued, ignoring Aaron’s not-so-subtle change in direction.

“Yes, but--”

“Haley’s best friend?” Rossi interrupted, putting pieces together in the way only a seasoned profiler could. “The one you’ve reconnected with?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Aaron’s response was guarded, his FBI training kicking in despite the personal nature of the conversation.

Rossi studied him for a moment, then pushed forward off the doorway, standing straighter. “Is she single?”

Aaron frowned, not following Rossi’s line of questioning. “Dave, why does that matter?”

Rossi sighed, a knowing look in his eyes. “Come on, Aaron. Haven’t you ever thought about more with her? More than just comfort and reminiscing?”

The question caught Aaron off guard. He hesitated, the answer unclear even to himself. It was a possibility he hadn’t allowed himself to fully consider, not yet, maybe not ever. Sure, he knew for a fact, especially after your talk in the park over the weekend that it wasn’t an option to go on without each other’s presence anymore. The gap that had been open for so long had finally been filled by each other’s company. But more? 

Rossi, watching the conflict play across Aaron’s features, pressed on, “Is she cute?”

The answer came a little too quickly, a little too sharply. “Yes.” Immediately, Aaron felt a pang of guilt wash over him. This was Haley’s best friend, he chided himself internally.

Rossi noticed the change instantly. “Aaron, listen to me,” he said gently, the tone of a friend rather than a colleague. “You’re not betraying Haley by acknowledging that her friend is attractive or by enjoying her company. It’s been years, my friend. It’s okay to live, to feel, to find happiness again.”

Aaron remained silent, absorbing Rossi’s words. They weren’t just a permission slip; they were a gentle push towards acknowledging a truth he had buried under layers of duty and self-denial.

“You’re not going to war with yourself here,” Rossi added, standing up and clapping a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “You’re just considering the possibility of happiness. That’s not just allowed; it’s recommended.”

The simplicity of Rossi’s advice, devoid of any professional jargon, was like a light piercing through the fog that had settled around Aaron’s heart. 

As he left the office, stepping into the cool night air, his steps felt lighter. He was headed to dinner, not as an obligation, but as a possibility, a chance to explore what might be if he allowed himself just to live in the moment.

Life continued to move fast, but the knowing support was a comfort that Aaron never wanted to take for grated. Throughout the dinners, the coffee, the drinks, the time spent in each of your lives, Aaron’s mind went back to the conversation Rossi proposed. Like most things, Aaron pocketed it for another time. 

The air in the Hotchner apartment was alive with the electronic beeps and laughter of children, the walls decorated with colorful banners that mimicked video game screens. Jack, the birthday boy, was in high spirits, buoyed by the excitement of his friends and the attentive care of you currently helping him set up a new game, one he had been gifted today. 

As Hotch cleared away the last of the birthday cake--chocolate with vibrant blue icing--Jessica approached him, wiping her hands on a napkin. "You both seem really happy together," she commented casually, observing how you interacted with Jack.

Hotch froze for a moment, a spoonful of cake halfway to the trash bin, feeling as though he'd been caught in an act he hadn't even defined yet. Jessica noticed his reaction and laughed softly, her familiarity with his expressions as clear as day. "Aaron, you're allowed to be happy, you know. Haley would want that for you, and I think she’d be thrilled it's with someone she loved."

"It’s not like that," Aaron responded quickly, a reflex born of years of self-imposed boundaries. He resumed cleaning, his movements a bit more forceful than necessary.

Jessica leaned against the counter, her eyes kind but piercing. "Why couldn't it be like that?" she pressed gently. "You guys could really benefit from letting yourselves get to that place. Think about it."

The conversation paused as you approached, having successfully launched the game for an excited group of kids. Aaron's heart was still racing from Jessica's implications, his mind a swirl of what-ifs and could-bes.

"What did I miss?" you asked, a hint of curiosity lifting your brows as you noticed the serious look between Jessica and Aaron. Aaron watched as you looked between him and Jessica, your brain working quickly to decipher a clear missing scene.

Jessica smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Just giving this guy some much-needed advice. Think about it, Aaron!" She tapped her temple playfully before walking off to help corral some of the more energetic party-goers.

"Later," Hotch muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to catch.

"Later?" you echoed, your tone light but probing.

Hotch managed a small, somewhat tense smile. "Yeah, something Jessica said. We can talk about it later."

As you nodded, slightly puzzled but undeterred, Hotch's gaze lingered on you a moment longer than usual. The way the light played across your face, the way your laughter seemed to stitch itself into the fabric of his home. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny how integral you had become to his and Jack's lives.

The rest of the party passed in a blur of games, laughter, and fleeting glances. Aaron found himself watching you more often, seeing not just the friend who had supported him through dark times but a possible future filled with light and shared smiles. Jessica’s words echoed in his mind, a gentle nudge toward a door he hadn’t allowed himself to open. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to consider what lay on the other side.

After the cheerful chaos of Jack’s birthday party dwindled and the last of the guests departed, the apartment settled into a serene quiet. Jack, overwhelmed by the day’s excitement and a substantial sugar intake, had fallen asleep on the couch. Aaron gently scooped him up, carrying him to his bedroom, tucking him in with the tender care that defined his fatherhood.

When Aaron returned to the living room, he found you still there, lingering with a contemplative air. The quiet of the apartment wrapped around you both like a soft shroud, a stark contrast to the day's earlier jubilance. 

Aaron’s mind replayed the conversations with Rossi and Jessica, their words about potential and happiness echoing loudly in the calm. He knew it was time to address the unspoken questions that hung between you. He owed it to himself at the very least.

“You know,” Aaron began, his voice low as he sat down across from you, “My coworker, I’ve mentioned to you before…Rossi and now today, Jessica mentioned something to me... about us.”

You met his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and caution. “Oh?”

“They think... and I guess, I’ve been thinking too... about what it would mean to be more than just friends,” Aaron said, each word carefully weighed but flowing freer than he expected. “I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I also can’t ignore that you’ve become the most important person in my life.”

The room filled with a heavy silence as you absorbed his words. Finally, you spoke, your voice tinged with vulnerability. “I’ve felt the same, Aaron. But there’s also this guilt... like I’m somehow betraying Haley? You were the love of her life.”

Aaron nodded slowly, understanding all too well. “I know that feeling,” he confessed. “But sometimes I wonder if, in some way we can’t quite understand; Haley knew we’d both be left here... lonely. And maybe, just maybe, she’d think it was right--us finding comfort, maybe even happiness, together.” He sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling so lost with what to do at this current moment, “Jessica says she’d want this--” 

“Jessica did know her better than you or I,” You laughed, cutting him off. You had a point. A thick pause filled the room, and then your eyes softened at that, a tear glimmering but not falling. “That does sound like something Haley would orchestrate, doesn’t it? She always wanted the best for us. I’d like to think... I’d like to try more than this. But I need to think about it. We both should. I don’t want us to have any regrets.”

Aaron felt a mix of relief and anticipation swirl within him. “Of course,” he agreed. “We’ll take all the time we need.”

As you stood to leave, pausing at the door, you seemed to hesitate. “Aaron, can I try something?”

Confused but trusting, he nodded. At that moment, you stepped closer, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps, and kissed him. It was not a tentative kiss, but one that spoke of all the unspoken words and pent-up emotions…a kiss that sizzled with electricity and felt like destiny unfurling at their lips.

Aaron had never thought about kissing you, surprisingly enough. You were beautiful, everything he would want in a woman. But now, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you or your lips after this kiss. 

When you finally pulled away, the look in your eyes was as shocked as he felt, both of you breathless from the intensity of the connection. Without a word, you turned and left, the door closing softly behind you.

Aaron stood motionless, the imprint of your lips still warm on his. The apartment was quiet again, but the air was charged with the promise of something new, something terrifyingly wonderful. As he touched his own lips, the memory of the kiss lingered, a promise of what could be if only they dared to reach for it. 

That night, Aaron Hotchner lay awake, the darkness of his bedroom punctuated only by the occasional distant sounds of the city at night. His mind replayed the kiss over and over. 

Its surprising intensity. Its rightness. He felt so much now. So much more than he even dared to feel before. 

But amidst the replay, doubt crept in like a persistent fog. What if you regretted the kiss? What would Haley think of all this? Would she approve of him finding happiness again, especially with her best friend?

As he tossed and turned, Aaron's thoughts drifted to Haley. 

What would Haley want? What about Jack? Jack was Haley’s biggest accomplishment and blessing, in the name of his happy life, what would she want for him? For them? 

The answer came to him in the quiet solitude of the night. Yes. she would want them to be happy. 

Happiness like this didn’t just stumble into one’s life without reason. It felt too right, too destined, to be anything but meant to be.

The next morning, still wrapped in the haze of his late-night revelations and running on less sleep than usual, Aaron’s phone rang just as he was about to enter the FBI building. It was you. 

His heart skipped at the sight of your name. He had become used to your calls, but after the kiss, the conversation…all of the endless possibilities that lay ahead? He paused. 

“So here’s how this will work,” you began without even so much of a greeting hello; your voice carrying a tone that was almost all business, yet he could detect an undercurrent of excitement. “You’re going to ask me on a date, and we’re going to try this for real because that kiss? Haley Brooks Hotchner would not have allowed a universe for a kiss like that to feel so good if she did not want this!”

Aaron laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound that felt freeing. “Well, good morning to you, too,” There was no hesitation in your words, no regret—only forward motion. “I think that’s an excellent plan,” he responded, the weight of his previous doubts lifting. “How about dinner tonight? There’s a new place I’ve been wanting to try.”

You accepted with a laugh that echoed his own relief and happiness. “I’d love that, Aaron.”

As he pocketed his phone and stepped into the building, his step had a new lightness. He knew this was the start of something extraordinary--the beginning of a new chapter that promised as much joy as it did challenges. 

But for the first time in a long while, Aaron felt fully equipped to embrace it all. He looked up briefly, as if through the steel and glass of the FBI headquarters he could see beyond to the sky above, and silently thanked Haley.

Her memory, always a part of him, now felt like a guiding star rather than a shadow. 

Haley had wanted him to live fully, to love again, and in finding a future with you, Aaron knew he was honoring not just her memory but her wishes for him.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[gurugirl]

oldest to newest

First Smutty One Shot (3.5k words)

in which Harry wants to buy your albums but then he realizes he wants a little something more from you or where Harry fucks you so you'll calm down

Again & Again (5.4k words)

in which lhh!Harry is your server and he takes you home after girl’s night is over or where lhh!Harry fucks you good, but comes too fast

Gonna Make You Mine (6k words) (mafia!harry)

extra

in which Harry is your boyfriend's boss and he wants to have you for himself or where Harry fucks you in front of your boyfriend

The Work Call (1.3k words)

in which you’re desperate for Harry’s attention when he’s ignoring you on a work call

Too Hard to Keep Quiet (678 words) (boyfriend!harry)

in which you and Harry try to keep it down while having sex in your childhood bedroom down the hall from your family

The Doctor & the Psychopath (9.7k words)

extra

in which Harry is facing serious assault charges and you’re the forensic psychologist tasked with analyzing him or where Harry manipulates you into having sex but you kind of like it

Music For a Festival (896 words)

in which you meet Harry, the lead singer of a local rock band, at a music festival and you bring him back to your tent

Thank You, Next (7.3k words)

extra

in which you are at a club with your very drunk boyfriend and you and Harry spot one another from across the room or where you meet lhh!Harry at a club while you're with your boyfriend and he fucks you in the bathroom

A Public Nuisance (1.6k words) (coworker!harry)

you and Harry are office coworkers and everyone’s out tonight at the local bar celebrating, but you and Harry find yourselves in a rather compromising position

Sex Ed With Harry (7.4k words) (innocent virgin!reader)

in which you’re a sweet, innocent, Christian, virgin and you meet Harry at a college party and he can show you a few things

Dirty & Rough (1.6k words)

reader ask:harry cheats on his gf with you and maybe not necessarily a breeding kink but cream pie kink ?? like, “i’m gonna stuff you so full of my cum”. veryyyy rough and degrading like he’s just using you to get off. “cumdump” etc..maybe he’s quite a bit older than u as well. face slapping, spit kink, as dirty as possible…you get me LOL

I Guess You're All Mine (11.9k words) (friends to lovers)

based on a true story: in which Harry is the hot drummer in your boyfriend’s band and he tells you a secret that changes everything

The Long Weekend (9.8k words) (friends to enemies to lovers)

extra

in which you and Harry hate one another but then things change

The Wedding Guest (4.5k words)

in which you meet Harry at a friend's wedding and show up at his hotel room the next morning to take him up on an offer he made you the night before

Lactation kink (700 words)

reader ask: I don't know if this sounds weird, but you would write one where the reader and Harry had a baby and while she and Harry are having sex, milk starts to come out of her breasts and he starts to suck

The Scientist & the Stripper (15.2k words) (nerd!harry | virgin!harry)

extra #1 | extra #2

in which virgin/nerd!Harry moves in next door to you and you invite him over for a small get together with friends where he gets more than he bargained for at the end of the night

On Halloween Morning (8.7k words) (ghost!harry)

a horror-filled Halloween one-shot. Harry is a ghost and you don't believe in ghostsbut you find out you were dead wrong.

Psoriasis Fluff (652 words)

reader ask: Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry (no smut)

Mixed Signals (9.5k words) (best friends to lovers)

bestfriends to lovers one shot - You and Harry have been best friends since you were children and now that you're both adults you can no longer deny the feelings that have been there all along

The Threesome (3.3k words) (Fratboy!Harry)

Harry's hot but he's nice and he's into you tonight

A Delicate Thing (7.6k words) (mafia boss!harry)

extra

Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night.

Tell Me You Hate Me (12.1k words) (male!reader | enemies to lovers)

Based on this request - You and Harry work together as bartenders and your relationship is hot and cold which infuriates you to no end. But you can't say you don't find him attractive, regardless of his cocky attitude.

The Italy Blurb (1.6k words) (boyfriend!harry)

reader prompt: some plotless smut featuring a little bit of jealous yn riding Harry's tiger & yacht sex.

Bad Morning (3.6k words) (professor!h x professor!yn)

You run late to an important meeting with your colleagues and Professor Styles decides to punish you.

Spiderman (4.2k words) (fratboy!harry | lhh!harry)

You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

The Ex (3.4k words) ex!harry

Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

Nympho (4.5k words) nympho!poly!harry

Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.

Harry bruises your cervix - blurb (450 words) husband!harry

A quick filthy, requested blurb. Nothing more and nothing less.

Next Door Neighbors (7.8k words) neighbor!harry

Part 2 (5k words)

You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

The Fleshlight Blurb (1.5k) subrry

Harry has to go on a business trip without Y/n so she gets him a special toy to use while he's away and she tells him to send her a video of him using it.

The Handyman (11k words) the check-in (3.6k)

When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.

Breeding Kink Blurb (587 words)

Requested - just straight up smut

Sex Tutor (10k words) Part II (13k+ words)

Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h (4.4k words)

Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

The Trio (3k words)

Three strangers meet at a club and things get sexy. Featuring a MMF threesome.

Baby Daddy (14k words)

After you have a one-night stand with your good friend Harry and become pregnant he doesn't know for certain that the baby is his, but he has his suspicions.

Little Flower (4.5k words)

You're startled during a power outage late one night when your co-worker, Harry, is at your door, drenched from the rain. How does he even know where you live?  dark!harry | stalker!harry

Use Me Up (7k)

Harry's your boyfriend's best friend and he's very hard to resist. boyfriend's best friend!harry

Assistance Needed (3k)

Harry finds himself in an awkward position when you walk in on him in his office just as he's in the middle of something quite improper. ceo!harry x assistant!reader

The Babysitter (2k)

PART 2 (2.5K)

Based on this request: The cute babysitter Harry's wife hired has always tempted him, but now that his wife is away for the evening Harry might just give in. dad!harry x babysitter!reader

She Likes To Watch (4.8k)

Harry and his wife have an interesting lifestyle but when they invite you over for a night of fun you realize you're more into it than you thought you'd be. hothusband!harry

Truth or Dare (6.7k)

Based on this request: Harry's never been to a slumber party so Y/n decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

The Mushroomer | friendly!ghost!harry (11.5k)

Based on this request: Y/n moves into a small house in the woods and she soon realizes the house is haunted. But it really turns out to be not so bad at all to have a ghost when he's as kind as the one living with her.

Says Who? | demonrry (3.1k)

A Halloween Blurb! Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

DILF | older!harry (6.5k)

Based on this request: Y/n meets an older man at a bar and she's not taking no for an answer. Harry likes her persistence.

Famous!reader blurb (1.1k)

Request! Harry learns you’re famous and you’ve written a song for him.

Maybe Fate (8.3k)

The first time you meet Harry is under odd circumstances. But the second time you meet him it feels like fate. Well, if you believe in that sort of thing.

[bubbletent]

The Bubble Tent is an outdoor inflatable family camping tent with a single tunnel. It can be used as a backyard transparent tent. Perfect for camping or entertaining guests in your garden!

[meanbossart]

Hey, I was just thinking about Drow as a companion, you've talked a little about what you think he would be like. Have you thought about how he would act at the goblin vs. the tiefling party in act one?

Good question! Supporting the grove happens to be one of those unambiguously good choices that he is 100% behind. He finds Khaga (and the druids in general) to be insufferable, despises Minthara because she's a drow and a cultist, and most importantly cares about the tiefling children's safety. Because of this, he will likely be unhappy about the grove being raided... Yet, not enough to leave the party or strongly challenge a Tav on it. Massacring the grove would sate that blood-lust in himself, and he would draw pleasure from it, despite it going against his bare-bones morality. DU drow would be too conflicted about his own feelings about it to express himself strongly one way or another after the deed is done, kind of like Shadowheart reacts to the whole ordeal.

If you save the grove, you will find him sampling from Mol's secret wine stash. Mol tells you they cut a deal and you can either pay her the 100 gold you "owe" her for his antics, or tell her to sod off.

You can then find DU drow hidden away and drinking himself into a stupor. He's still coherent but occasionally slurring his words, clearly a really experienced drunk. He talks about Mol, how he thinks she's a riot and just thought he'd teach her a valuable lesson about business. If you ask him why he's isolated himself, he will jokingly say he's too humble to be showered in all this praise. You can succeed an insight check to find out that he's nervous about something.

If you ask what he thinks about what you've done, he's expresses indifference about the adults but, again, that he's glad the children are okay.

Tav: You're drinking like a man with a guilty conscience. Just to remind you - we're the good guys tonight. The drow: (Scoffs) The hellspawn aren't making it far. They are too... too bright-eyed. We've only put-off the inevitable. ...I only lament the fates of the children. The little sods didn't choose this life. Tav: They're clever enough. I'm sure they'll be alright. The drow: Cleverness can only get you so far. They're still little.

You can trigger his romance here, but you can't have sex with him yet. Through being flirtatious but not pushy he will promise you to pick this up another time, when he's not quite so indisposed. The scene would trigger during the next event-less long-rest.

In the goblin party, on the other hand, he will be found standing at his tent as normal. He's sober and there's no nervousness to be uncovered through any checks, in fact, he doesn't seem to be in too foul a mood - but he does treat you with a degree of coldness.

Tav: You seem a little pouty. Don't tell me you're sour about a few dozen dead tieflings. The drow: Not at all - the ceremony was quite lovely, I'm just finding the reception to be... Lackluster. Tav: Oh - the goblins aren't worth your company, your highness? The drow: They aren't even worth roasting for supper. To make no comment of the head-fanatic - you'd be spewing her out both ends for days, if you chose to indulge.

As long as you don't antagonize him for his diarrhea joke, you get to actually have sex with him that very night as well as trigger the romance.

As an addition - if he's in your party he will actually kill Minthara when she tries to turn against you in the middle of the night. You still have to fight all of the goblins after this, but she will have her throat slit by him during the cutscene. This means you can only recruit both of them if you knock her out at the goblin camp.

[coyotelip]

starchaser microfic: smoke || old married couple jeggy again || @into-the-jeggyverse || wc: 690

When James comes home, he smells like smoke. And alcohol. And a mixture of other smells that any man brings with him from a bar in the middle of the night.

It doesn't drive Regulus mad. He knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to let James go alone to Frank's party, and now his husband is crossing the threshold of their home with tentative steps, trying not to get tangled up with his own feet.

“I'm home, Reggie,” James says, barely able to make out what he shouldn't have said. Because Regulus is already standing in front of the door with his arms folded across his chest. “Are you angry?” James asks, his eyes round and sparkling.

“No,” Regulus replies shortly, his jawline tense.

He doesn't waste time talking, but simply picks up his husband by the elbow, helps him take off his coat, and leads him to the bathroom. On the way, he tries to breathe as little as possible through his mouth.

“Honestly, you're all grown up and make enough money to choose a better bar,” Regulus grumbles under his breath as he sits James down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Oh, you don't understand, Reg. It's not just a bar, it's a memory,” he tilts his head back and says the last word louder than the others. “It may be the cheapest beer in town, but it tastes like honey when you share it with your good friends, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Regulus replies in the manner that parents use to small children who talk nonsense. He is now more concerned with pulling off the man's shoes and old jeans from his college days.

As the years go by, James' attempts to dress like he used to during his college football team days start to look more and more ridiculous. “Maybe next time you should wear something… more familiar to you, okay?” Regulus says carefully, pulling James' football jersey off his shoulders.

“But you said yourself that I look hot in this, didn't you? Everyone dreamed of a football player boyfriend back in the day, but you hit the jackpot,” James' head falls back on his shoulder, unclear whether it's from its weight and the effects of alcohol or from an attempt at drunken flirting. His lips stretch into a wide smile, and his eyes look up at the man from beneath his heavy eyelids.

“That was twenty years ago, James.” Regulus sighs heavily and grabs at his shirt, leaving James in nothing but his underwear.

“So… you don't think I'm sexy anymore?” the smile disappears and James' lips pout in a childish manner.

Taking a step back, Regulus looks down at his man's body in front of him, puts a finger to his lips as if thinking. “Hmm…”

No doubt, he would say without hesitation that he considers the forty-year-old James to be no worse than the twenty-year-old. In some ways even better - his hair is now covered with gray just like Regulus'. Part of his face is covered with a beard that James rubs so often against his husband's delicate skin, but Regulus still loves it.

His muscles are still as visible as ever, because James doesn't allow himself to turn into a typical man on the couch with a can of beer in his hands. Even though he doesn't say it out loud, the appearance of his body is still very important to James, which is why Regulus doesn't let him forget that he loves him with or without this body. But with this body, of course, it is more pleasant.

“Maybe if you sit down in the tub and let me rub you all over, I can give you an honest opinion, okay?” Regulus says, taking James' face in his hands and lifting it up to his.

Looking into those sparkling and pleading eyes, he can't help but leave a kiss on the tip of his man's nose, but instantly regrets it - the smell of the rotten bar still permeates his skin and James should get in the water now if he wants to get another kiss in this life.