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chispas-and-broken-bindings · 4 years

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A Preview...

Someone requested a fix for their birthday...I don’t have the next chapter for I Just Think I’ll Scream quite ready for prime time, but here’s a sneak peak:

Ch 20 Sansa

Robb and Ned were up and away before Sansa emerged from her shower in the morning. The house is chaos as Catelyn tries to wrangle the remaining Starks out the door. "Sansa, stop feeding Shaggydog scraps from the table and get dressed! Bran, there are two boxes of gourds by the back door that need to be brought to the store for the window display. Be a dear and put them in the car. And where are Arya and Rickon?"

Sansa skips up the stairs before she's pulled into the hunt, almost knocking into her younger sister as she slides down the bannister. "One of these days that's going to break."

"Whatever, killjoy."

"Mom is looking for you, but you better change. We are supposed to wear floral for the Women's Club Bake Sale. It's themed and Cersei Lannister is going to be there, so we have to be on our best behavior." Her little sister is wearing their dad's old Falcon's sweatshirt and ripped up jeans, looking for all the world like she's about to spend the day painting a house or cleaning out a garage, and not hobnobbing with their mother's friends and clients.

"I'm not working the bake sale. I'm selling tickets to the haunted fun house with Mycah."

"Says who?"

Before Arya can respond, Catelyn is at the bottom of the stairs. "Me. You know that it'll be better for everyone if Arya isn't cooped up all day in a tent with the Women's Club ladies. Help me get through the midday rush, Sansa, and you can slip away and spend the afternoon with Harry if you'd like."

"Gods, Mom! They broke up weeks ago! Catch up!" Arya yells as the back door slams behind her and Sansa is alone, staring down the steps at her mother whose face has fallen into a look of concern.

"Oh, Sansa, dear. Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighs, "It's fine, Mom. Like Arya said, it happened weeks ago, and it was just a high school fling. They aren't meant to last." She turns back up the stairs, not waiting to see if her brush off was convincing. She dresses in the dark maxi dress waiting on her hook, with its long flowy sleeves and pattern of intricate woodland flowers. Usually, she feels like Florence Welch in it. Today though, as she inspects herself before the mirror, it's coming off less stylishly bohemian and more dowdy Victorian with the small ruffles along the high collar and shoulders. Ygritte would never wear something like this, a small ugly voice whispers.

Just as she's about to dive back into her closet, Bran yells up the stairs, "We're going to leave without you, Sansa," and it makes her choice for her. It's fine. She'll just hide in a corner of the tent with Old Nan and sneak lemon cakes all day. No one has to see her. So what if the band is playing this afternoon? It's not like any of them care if she watches their show, and she's basically heard the whole set already in rehearsals. It's not like Robb told everybody at school about it. It's not like she promised to get there early and save a spot up front with Marge and Jeyne.

Ygritte will probably be there to watch Jon. Best to skip...at least until she gets over her absurd crush.

"Sansa! Mom is literally starting the engine!" Bran yells again.

"Coming!" The best she can do is throw on sunglasses and a wide-brimmed fedora and hope no one recognizes her. Outside, Arya is still arguing with Rickon about buckling his car seat and Cat is on her phone, pacing up the driveway while Bran sits on the back step, whistling the march from Bridge Over the River Kwai. "Liar," Sansa flicks off his baseball cap. "We're nowhere near about to leave."

"She was starting the engine before her phone rang."

When they finally find a parking spot, it's apparent to everyone that they would have been better off leaving the car at home and walking. Though the festival hasn't officially started yet, the main street is closed off, and the big parking lot has been covered in carnival rides overnight. Arya peels off from their group when Mycah gives her a holler from on top of the Ferris wheel, leaving Bran and Sansa to lug the several boxes filled with decorative gourds to the hardware store, while their mom takes Rickon and their contributions to the bake sale in the opposite direction.

Outside the store entrance, Benjen is struggling with his pop-up tent, which keeps leaning to one side in the wind, while Meera watches him from the front step. "This is your fault, Sansa! Making me set up a stand, like I'm some lady selling doilies at a craft fair," He curses when the whole thing folds up on top of him.

"Good morning to you too, Uncle Ben," she rolls her eyes. "Where is Robb? He can get you bags of sand to anchor the tent. And don't knock doilies. There are entire rooms at the Met devoted to Myrish Lace alone. You can poke fun at craft fairs once even one of your pieces is on display at a similarly storied institution. Until then, you better get comfortable setting up this tent because I have three holiday craft markets lined up for you this season."

"You're just supposed to be sprucing up my website, not taking over the business! And don't get me started on your brother. I haven't had my morning caffeine fix yet because he disappeared on a coffee run ages ago. How long does it take to pour a bloody cup of coffee? If Jon Snow is holding up my joe with some pumpkin spice, whipped cream nonsense-"

On cue, Mr. paparazzo himself, appears in the doorway and before Sansa can land on an emotion, he's lifting the box from her arms with a gruff "G'morning Sansa," and then he's back in the shop, leaving her empty-handed and a bit empty-headed.

"He looks like he needs caffeine more than you," she remarks at last, meeting eyes with her uncle.

Meera sniggers. "You think? He looks like he spent the night sleeping under a car." Sansa wouldn't go that far, but it was hard to miss the circles under his eyes or how pale and papery his skin looked in the cold morning light.

"Give the kid a break. They played their first show last night, didn't they? If he's a bit wrung out this morning, that just means he's doing it right." Benjen jumps to Jon's defense.

"Well then, he's been doing it right every weekend. He's looked like this every morning since he started at the store," Meera says, heading back inside to supervise since Robb is still M.I.A. Sansa thinks about Ygritte's Instagram feed with its late night cigarettes and coffee at the diner and regular parties in what looks like someone's grungy basement. So, Jon works hard and plays hard. It's not entirely shocking. It niggles at her though; how tired he looks and how he doesn't talk about partying when he's at Winterfell. Her other friends are always eager to share their weekend escapades, but when Sansa asked how his party went when his Mom was out of town, Jon just gave her a noncommittal shrug and told her it was fine.

That's because you aren't really friends. She turns, more than ready to join her mom at the bake sale, when Robb comes skipping across the street with a drink carrier in hand. "Sansa! Just the girl I'm looking for." Her brother is as chipper as ever, seemingly inured to whatever effects from last night's show have taken the wind from Jon Snow's sails. "Can you help with the window display? Mom told me to spiff it up for the festival, but you've got a better eye for that kind of thing."

"Oh, sure. Skip out of work for an hour to flirt with some barista and then come back at the last minute to coerce your sister into doing your job?" Benjen barks and Robb's face turns scarlet.

"I… uh, what? No… I wasn't flirting…"

"Aren't you doing the same thing to me, Uncle Ben?" Sansa retorts, saving her brother from his bumbling. She makes a note to stop by the coffee shop and find out who this barista is. Uncle Benjen may be onto something. "Come on Robb, give Uncle Benji his coffee and I'll spare a few minutes for a consultation."

Inside, Bran and Meera are balancing tiny pumpkins on their heads as they wind through the aisles, trying to trip each other up. Jon Snow is leaning against the paint counter, looking ragged. She fights the urge to ask him if he's okay, opting instead to tip over Bran's pumpkin and herd him over to the window display. "Here, help me before Mom walks by and turns Robb into the headless horseman." They distribute the gourds in artfully artless piles throughout the window, as Jon and Robb hang a paint chip mobile over their heads; the autumnal pièce de résistance that Sansa spent hours making last year.

"Sans, I wish you could have been there last night. It was amazing," Robb excitedly recounts the band's show, "Jon was on fire, and apparently some promoters from White Harbor were there and Satin thinks he can book us some shows at North State! Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, though, won't that be hard with swimming?" She doesn't want to rain on Robb's parade, but maybe Arya is right. She is a killjoy.

"I have a meet in White Harbor next month. Maybe we can book a few gigs around it. What do you think, Jon? You up for a weekend road trip?"

"Uh.." Jon scratches at his neck, blearily. "I mean, that's a long drive to do late at night."

"Don't worry, we'll get a hotel for the weekend!"

"I don't know-"

The bell jingles at the door, and before Meera can scramble off the counter where she's been reading a comic, Catelyn is inside, gazing around the space, looking deeply unimpressed.

"Mom, uh, we were just finishing up with the decorations." Robb wobbles on the ladder in terror, unable to hook the last end of the mobile in place, and Bran ducks behind a pile of pumpkins, trying to hide his glee.

"Robb, you should have opened the store fifteen minutes ago. How are you just now finishing the decorations?"

“Well, the gourds only just arrived-” Robb starts, lamely.

“Never mind,” their mom sweeps through the space, picking up the boxes still out from stocking, tidying the candy by the register, before turning one last critical eye on her teenage employees. Jon cups his neck as he holds the ladder with his other hand. Robb scrambles down, having finally managed to hang the mobile correctly, rushing forward to grab the empty boxes from his mother. “Cersei Lannister is going to be here any minute. Get this garbage to the back. Meera, flip the sign and Jon, take the ladder back and...splash some water on your face or something. You look like death, warmed over. Jory is coming around ten, if you need to take the afternoon off.”

Jon’s ears turn pink as he folds up the ladder beside Sansa, and she looks out the window, mortified. “Sorry Mrs. Stark, but that’s not necessary” he begins, but Catelyn is already walking back to the office with a tired wave.

“I said it was a lot of hours you were taking on between school, the lumberyard and this. Just make sure you are fitting sleep in or you’ll make yourself sick, dear.”

#i just think i'll scream #jonsa fic #jon x sansa au #for k #happy birthday #wip excerpt

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bendthekneejon · 5 years

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More Deleted Scenes

More deleted scenes from TBAWY.

These ones should go after the chapter “No More Fear”.

Olenna Tyrell gives Dany some useful advice ;)

Arianne went to get Dany out of the computer room. She had been there all evening. She hadn’t even noticed when had the night fallen. She pressed her fingers against her aching eyes. She had been extracting data from the Bloomberg computers and analyzing every single number she could see. She looked around at all the rows of computers with dark screens, only a couple of people were in the room besides her.

No one was keeping her there until late. Professor Tyrell did not demand her to do so. It was her own will to finish what she had started during the day instead of leaving it for the next one and losing track of what she was doing.

Besides Jon, her best friends were the only ones who knew about the problem with Viserys. It had also been a shock to Arianne to hear such news, as she had been close to the family since they were little. He was getting better, though. He had been in rehabilitation for a couple of months. It was difficult and he had wanted to leave a couple of times, but he had not done so, which at least was a good indicator. Her mother, Rhaegar and she had recovered from the initial shock and went on with their daily lives, which at least for Dany was the best way of coping instead of staying in her room crying or lying in her bed with her laptop watching Netflix until late, clicking on any movie or TV show and just staring at the screen, many times without actually being interested in what she was watching.

At least now she could focus more on work and school, but then Jon or her friends would insist that she spent too much time on those activities and needed more time to relax. She had said no multiple times to going out clubbing with her friends, which she hardly ever used to deny. She would prefer now to curl up in bed, most of the times with Jon but sometimes alone as well, and just put on a movie or read a book.

Yet Arianne wanted to take her out for a drink with their friends, insisting she would buy. Even though she was exhausted and her limbs felt heavy, pressing down her body, she agreed to go with her, Margaery and Myrcella to school’s pub and clear her head. Each took their glass of beer in their hands and walked from the bar to a wooden, round table. It was a Wednesday night, perhaps nine thirty, so not many people were there besides them.

They talked about their classes, internships they were looking for, their day, the party from the previous weekend, politics, feminism, what TV shows they were watching or how their love life was doing.

“Dany,” Margaery said. “How long have you and Jon been together exactly?”

“Almost three years now.”

Myrcella gasped. “Holy shit.”

“Time flies,” said Arianne. “Three years of getting laid every day.”

“I mean…not every day," Dany replied. "But…kinda, yeah.”

“Did you guys think we would be together for this long? Jon and I?” she dared to ask them.

Her three friends stayed silent, an obvious answer to her question.

“I’ll speak for myself and say no,” Margaery told her. “You guys were so different.”

“So different, Dany,” Arianne said.

“You’re…so extroverted and outgoing and he couldn’t even say more than three sentences together,” Myrcella said.

“But it’s so clear he loves you,” Margaery said. “What I couldn’t understand, though, was…what drew you so much into him? Into someone so different from you? Into someone you took to parties and just stood there awkwardly?”

Myrcella turned to Margaery and told her, “You know why.”

Margaery laughed out loud. “Ohhh! Because he’s great in bed!”

Dany laughed, “Come on, that’s not the reason. That’s not the only reason,” she said, making them laugh. “No, really, he was so nice, we had such a good time together. I don’t know, I felt good with him, he made me feel comfortable.”

“Awww,” said Margaery, “So it wasn’t the sex, then?”

“It wasn’t, cause, well…we didn’t have sex until our fourth month together.”

“What?!” said Myrcella.

“WHAT?! Shut the fuck up,” said Margaery.

Arianne only laughed with her beer in her hand, she already knew this. In fact, Dany had told her right after her first time.

“I know,” Dany smiled, looking down at the table.

“Why?” Margaery asked.

“He just wasn’t ready. He got…too nervous about it.”

“You are the definition of patience,” Arianne told her.

“Come on, four months is not that much!” Myrcella said, who hadn’t had sex yet.

“Was it worth waiting, though?” Margaery asked.

Dany smiled, “Totally.”

“I’ve always said so, shy guys are the best in bed,” Arianne said.

Dany laughed, “I can’t disagree. The first weeks after our first time were crazy.”

Arianne laughed. “Remember this Myrcella, after your first time you will be horny all the time.”

“All the time,” Dany agreed, and they all laughed.

She did not take for granted having people that cared for her—her friends, her boyfriend, her family. When she was born, her mother and her brothers had decided that she would never have a life like the one they had had with her father at home. Even Viserys.

Time flew by that night and Dany did not regret for a second coming along to meet her friends. They drank a little more than planned, not caring that it was a school night, they had such fun together they didn’t want to leave and stop joking and laughing. Her friends knew he was in rehab now, but they knew better not to bring up the topic tonight and ruin her mood. It had not been easy to laugh these past months as much as before.

With the passing of days, the thoughts of work and school took over the ones from her family, undermining them, pushing them to the back of her head. She usually went to class, have lunch, worked with Olenna Tyrell, go back to her dorm or to Jon’s place to spend the night there. Cuddling with him in bed, hugging him and feeling his body warmth and his scent on the sheets, was a somniferous. It lulled her to sleep as opposed to staying up, staring at the roof when she was in her bed on her own.

She had class in the mornings and worked after lunch, so she sometimes ate with Olenna in the cafeteria.

“I don’t think Margaery would ever sit with me in the cafeteria,” Olenna told her one time.

At the start, it felt funny to be sitting down with a professor, but then she stopped caring about it, she had the most interesting conversations about economics with her, and with every word she said, Dany admired her even more.

“Now, dear, I must say,” Olenna cleared her throat as she cut a piece of grilled fish. “I don’t want you to work excessively on this. No more than it’s good for you. Margaery told me you were not going through an easy time.” Dany sighed. She did not like being pitied or perceived as weak—as somebody who needs to say if work is too hard. She only wanted to get things done right. Olenna was such a remarkable woman, academically, that Dany wanted her to think the same about the work she was doing. “Don’t worry, she did it with the best intentions. She’s worried about you. I don’t want you to feel overloaded with work all day, alright? Let me know if it feels like too much or if you don’t feel okay and need to go. This should not make things worse for you.”

Dany nodded and smiled. “Thank you very much, professor. Much appreciated.”

“Now, I don’t want to intrude in your personal problems, you don’t have to tell me about them. I just want to let you know that they will pass. Look at me, I’m so old, am I not? Life hits you hard, I know it, dear.”

Dany gave her a tiny smile and nodded.

“Oh, to be your age again!” Olenna continued. “There's so much I wish I could have done when I was young. You’re in your early twenties, dear, the best years of your life.”

“I guess so. That’s what everyone says,” Dany replied.

“Daenerys, I’ll give you some advice.” She cleared her throat. “If I could go back in time to when I was your age…” she looked around, leaned in and silently, almost whispering, said, “I’d have so much sex.”

“What?” Dany laughed awkwardly.

“All you can, dear,” Olenna nodded.

“Professor…Tyrell,” Dany chuckled, foolishly trying to keep her cheeks from reddening.

“You’re luckier to live in a time when women are so…free when it comes to that topic. It’s not the solution for everything, but do you know how much serotonin you release by doing so? You have no idea how much you’ll miss it in the end. Now you’ve got all the energy in the world. In the blink of an eye, you’ll have children and there’ll be no more time for it,” Olenna continued.

Dany nodded, smiling nervously, “I guess so. I think we’re doing fine, my boyfriend and I.”

“Good,” Olenna replied. “Just don’t tell Margaery we’ve been talking about this, she’d never speak to me again.”

Dany laughed. Jon had to hear about this.

“Do you think it’s true, though?” she asked him, moving her bare feet in the air as her legs hung down the kitchen counter, as he washed the dishes at his place after dinner. “That we should have all the sex we can these years before work and children fuck it all up.”

“I guess. She’s old, she’s been through it. She must know,” he said, making her chuckle. “And couples over forty…I just don’t think they have much sex, you know? It shows. They're arguing all the time. They're sex-deprived.”

She laughed, but then asked, “Will that happen to us?”

He dried his hands with a kitchen towel and stood in front of her, placing them on the counter on either side of her.

“I hope the hell not. I mean, I hope we can bang this often our whole lives but…we won’t always have this energy and…flexibility and strength. So, why take risks?”

She grinned and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right.”

He held her face with both hands, cold from the sink water, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Now?” he asked.

She chuckled and said, “Okay.”

She opened her mouth wider against his lips. She had to do some reading for the following day, but thirty more minutes with her boyfriend would not do her any harm.

“Here?” she asked when she felt his fingers unzipping her pants. “In the kitchen? Like a freaking porn video?”

“We could go to bed if you want,” he said. “You choose.”

She hesitated, the kitchen was not too comfortable, but it could be good for a change.

“Okay, here," she smiled.

He chuckled and restarted the kiss, passing his hand underneath her blouse. Her stomach contracted by the touch of his cold hand. He slowly moved it up to her ribcage while she grabbed the nape of his neck with both hands.

She suddenly laughed between his kisses.

"What?" he asked.

"I just think the situation is funny," she said, pressing more kisses on his lips. "We're gonna fuck because my boss told me so. Because my friend's grandmother told me so."

Jon laughed, "And because we are," he kissed her lips, "such," one more kiss, "a horny," another kiss, "couple." He let go and said, “Wait, let me bring the vibrator.”

She laughed as he rushed into his room. “Hurry up!”

#you don't have to read this #they're only here so i can share this link on ao3 #i hate deleting chapters #i keep a screenshot of all the comments every time i do so #waaaaaahhhhh #tbawy #deleted scenes

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years

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Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 39: Blind Tiger

January melted into February. Or it would be more accurate to say melted and refroze as the snow turned to sleet and ice.

Every day seemed to make your stomach bigger, though women simpered about how tiny and cute your little baby bump was whenever you left this damn house.

But it was really starting to get in the way. Especially in the bedroom. No, Ramsay didn't say anything about it, and he never missed an opportunity to fuck you, but to you... it was just... awkward in a way. Having sex was becoming taxing, trying to find a position that wasn't uncomfortable.

But, your girls were back in the city. Ramsay seemed content. He hadn't even bitched about his boring desk job since finally returning to work. And he was no longer drowning in excessive bottles of liquor. He had cut back a lot. Ever since you killed the Targaryen. He still drank every day, just not as much. Theon Greyjoy had been spotted two days ago. However, there were only 5 short days until you found out what Baby B was. It scared you senseless. You were no closer in figuring out how to keep your husband safe.

Life at the safe house was boring. You spent half the day sleeping or reading. Charlotte came to stay with you a lot. It was nice to have another female to hang out with. You missed Liz and Kaden, but Liz was now too sick to leave her house.

She had called you the night before last and cried to you about how much pain she was in. How she regretted the idea of chemo. She should have just pushed for surgery. It hurt you to hear her so down and miserable. She was always so head strong and encouraging. You wished you knew what to do to help, anything to make her smile.

Your mother had called you a week ago, all in a dither that Eli was apparently getting married. Eli and Jeyne were going out there this weekend, so Mom and Dad could meet her. Eli had been very distant with you since that night at dinner. Not that you could blame him, but damn. You had just become cool with him again.

You had lunch a couple of times with Whit and Jared, when they didn't have to immediately get back home after their 'coffee bean' runs.

"Oh yeah, mom and dad are ectastic that we get to use our flight skills for more than just med evac. Dad said, coffee beans was a funny investment, but as long as it put money in our pockets and made us happy. Going to put Kasey in traveling cheer squad this summer. She will be so excited."

Well, at least your Sheep were prospering. Ramsay had set up the schemes to buy all the land you had wanted, and construction for new businesses were in the works. You had gotten in touch with the Martell's to grow on land your Sheep had set up, as well as building more secure labs, though marijuana was the best choice to go with, for you personally. At least it was naturally occurring. You didn't really want any part in synthetic shit, to which Ramsay begrudgingly obliged.

"What do you want to do for your boyfriend's birthday?" Ramsay asked, looking up from the laptop he had been absorbed in for the last two hours.

"What?" You asked, marking your place in the book you had been reading.

"Matt. His eighteenth birthday is tomorrow." Ramsay said, glancing at the sleet tinking on the windows.

"I dunno. I figured he and Ty would spend the day together. Thought maybe I would talk you into giving him a decent amount of money for him to blow on stupid shit." You shrugged, pulling your blanket up around you, trying to ignore the annoying urge to pee for the sixth time in the last hour and a half.

"Sure." Your husband replied, lighting a cigarette and going back to whatever it was he had been doing. Numbers by the sound of pen scratching on paper, furious muttering, and deep sighs. "It's fight night. Want to go? Thought I'd take you to dinner and then to the ring."

"Um... sure? I've never been." You shrugged, yawning and rubbing your belly.

You closed your eyes with a small smile, breathing slowly, and deeply when... it happened.

You gasped, threw your eyes open, and sat up straight.

Ramsay looked up, alarmed, half rising from his seat.

"I felt it! I felt the baby move!" You said excitedly, looking down at your belly.

"Sure it wasn't just some weird body function?" He asked, raising a brow and closing the computer.

"Positive." You said excitedly. You stared hard at your belly and gave another gasp after a few moments of silence, "yes! I can feel the baby. Oh my god."

Ramsay leaned back in his chair and watched you with a rather uncharacteristically warm expression.

You both simply stared at one another until finally Ramsay stood from his seat and gave a deep stretch like a cat.

"Were you ever good at math?" He asked, cracking his knuckles and frowning at his notebook.

"Well I can find x." You replied, knowing your answer wasn't good enough. "Why?"

"I'm missing something. A variable or... I don't know." He said slowly.

You said nothing. Finally he shook his head slightly, scratching his jaw and turning to you.

"Dinner?"

"Whatever. It's gotten to the point where as long as I eat it doesn't matter. Heartburn doesn't discriminate it seems, either. But I would really love bell peppers."

"You make my life so easy." He chuckled, walking down the hall.

You watched him leave with a grin.

"I suppose I can dress for comfort?" You called from the closet. You turned to look at Ramsay as he entered the room. His faded jeans and band shirt were enough of an answer.

"You're very fond of this old rag." You said, picking at his shirt as he pulled his leather jacket on.

He shrugged, "first concert. Met Alyn there, actually."

"Oh?" You said, pulling your hoodie on.

"Yeah. We were fourteen. Gave him a bloody nose in the mosh pit. Then I saved his life from some big dude after he got caught making out with the dudes drunk woman. Rolled one behind the venue, and the rest was history. He just kind of stuck around. Father always hated my Boys, so I kept them close. Anyways, burgers and shakes? We can buy your bell peppers on the way back home."

"Burgers and shakes sound wonderful. On one condition." You nodded, pulling your hood up and grabbing your wallet from your purse.

"What's that?" He asked, ushering you out of the house.

"The fries have to be perfect for the shakes."

"Shake fries. Maybe you could market that." He chuckled, helping you into the Jeep.

Ramsay had had the Jeep repainted, tagged, and replaced the vin number. Made you a bit sad, but, safety first, right? Right.

"So, what am I to expect?" You asked, finishing your shake.

"It'll be loud. But what's better than a few beers and watching people beat the shit out of each other? Wonder if anyone good is fighting tonight?" Ramsay said, dropping his cigarette butt out of the cracked window.

He shifted in his seat, pulling his gun and knife, sliding both under the seat. You watched him with a raised brow.

"They check at the door." He shrugged, opening his door.

You met Damon, Charlotte, Ben, and to your excitement, Kaden at the front gates.

The boy rushed you, hugging you tightly.

"Aunt (y/n)! Look!" Kaden practically shouted, pulling his cap off.

"Oh goodness. What happened to all your hair?" You asked, kneeling down and running your hand over his fuzz.

"I did it for mommy." He said, eyes bright.

You looked up at Ben who gave a half shrug and sad smile.

"Liz had a meltdown and said fuck it. Says she was gonna lose it all anyways, might as well get on with it." Ben said, hurt lacing his words.

"But can I tell you a secret?" Kaden said, motioning you closer.

"What's that, hon?" You asked quietly.

He leaned into you, "it will grow back. Just like mommy's."

You gave a small, watery laugh, realizing you were emotional, "yes. Yes it will."

"Come on son, let's get out of the cold." Ben said, as Kaden put his hat back on.

You watched the boy with a fond smile, as Ramsay laced his fingers in yours and tugged you along.

Ramsay led you to a row of seats, close to the ring. Maybe too close for your liking.

"Want something to eat or drink before I send Dame off?" Charlotte asked, sitting behind you.

"I'd love a sprite or something." You replied, glancing back at her.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." She replied.

You watched Ramsay's profile, but he seemed unemotional as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Someone fell into the seat beside you. You turned quickly to see Tyene. She smiled brightly at you as Matt sat on her other side.

You hugged her warmly, "hey."

"Hey yourself. I was excited to hear you were coming. We miss you." Tyene said, looking past you to glare at your husband.

"I miss you all. But, gotta keep this baby safe." You said, placing your hand on your belly.

"Mama was saying how cute you looked yesterday when you swung by." Tyene smiled.

"I was sad you weren't there. But, I heard you were in good hands." You grinned, watching Matt shrug out of his coat.

Tyene shrugged, but grinned broadly.

"Speaking of, what are we doing tomorrow?"

Tyene chewed her lip and gave another shrug, "dunno. Thought we would party it up tomorrow night at Alyn's club or something."

You nodded, "just text me and lemme know."

You made it through two fights before becoming slightly bored. You stole glances at your husband, who looked equally as bored, as he slouched in his seat and jiggled his foot.

You were going to suggest blowing this joint and maybe sneaking into a movie when the boredom flipped completely. But not into excitement.

The final two fighters of the night. Loras Tyrell, which meant the Tyrells and Lannisters were here. And none other than this infamous Jon Snow that your husband hated with almost as much passion as his obsession for you.

When the man took the ring, Ramsay sat up straight and rigid, eyes narrowed to cold slits, jaw clenched, and fists balled.

You caught Damon and Ben exchanged glances.

You watched how Ramsay watched this Snow guy. It was calculating and almost hungry. Like a starving wolf, in the dead of winter, watching a herd of deer run past.

You opened your mouth to say something to him but Damon made a frantic gesture with his hand, catching your eye, and shaking his head fervently.

You closed your mouth again and turned your eyes to the ring.

They were both fast, but Loras was not consistent. After three rounds, Snow had ended it.

The noise of the crowd was loud and excited as Snow was paraded around the ring in triumph by the ref. He looked solemn and uncomfortable at all the attention.

The stands had mostly cleared before Ramsay finally came back down to earth and stood, fists still balled.

You held on to your empty cup, trying to think of something to say. But what was there to say?

You followed him quietly to the lobby, where you bade Matt, Tyene, Ben, and Kaden good bye, giving Kaden about 15 extra hugs and threatened him to be a good boy for his mommy and daddy. To which he assured you he was always good.

You threw your cup away when a group of Lannisters and Tyrells pushed past you, all practically running toward the exit. It puzzled you.

You turned to Ramsay to ask if he had seen but to your surprise you found him pushing through the crowd in the other direction, Damon tearing off after him.

You exchanged a look with Charlotte and followed in their wake.

"SNOW!" Ramsay shouted, pushing people aside.

"Oh god. Please no." You sighed, hurrying to catch up to your husband.

"Bolton." Jon replied, inclining his head slightly, turning from the news crew and the red head on his arm.

"I'm calling you out." Ramsay growled.

"Baby, do you think that..." You started, halting at Ramsay's side, but stopping in midsentence as he gripped your arm and gave you a murderous look.

Jon Snow stood there, glaring at Ramsay in dislike. The woman at his side, glanced you and your husband over before leaning into Jon and whispering in his ear. He gave her a perplexed look when she pulled away and she wore an arrogant smirk, meeting your gaze.

You curled your lip and glared back at her.

"No." Jon finally spoke.

The red head rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and stormed off.

"Pussy." Ramsay sneered, but his smirk dropped when his phone rang. "What?" He barked when he answered. His face hardened, "no. Do not engage." He hung up and turned to you, pushing you rather roughly along in front of him.

Damon gave you a look of sympathy as you were pushed past him.

Ramsay said nothing until he got to your door at the Jeep. He pushed you into the cold door and grabbed your face.

"If you ever make a fool of me like that in front of people and question my actions ever again, it will be the last thing you ever do." He hissed in so much venom that for the first time you were completely afraid of your husband. He meant it. The ice in his bite made it unmistakable.

You swallowed, dropping your eyes as the tears lined your lower lashes, "yes sir. I'm sorry. I just... I don't want you to get hurt."

Ramsay released you, running the back of his hand along your cheek. He placed his finger under your chin and pulled your face up to his. He placed a kiss to your lips, but said nothing.

"I'm taking you home, then I have to see what the fuck is going on." He helped you into your seat and slammed the door.

"Stannis." You said, remembering what Olyvar had said.

"What?" Ramsay said, glancing over at you in confusion.

"The day I met Oly at the bar to sign paperwork and went to lunch... He told me that Renly had gone into hiding and that Stannis was going to make a move on the Lannisters before the idiot boys wedding. But then I saw the Stark girl and forgot all about it. So sorry baby. I figured you'd know anyways." You said, tumbling over the words as they fell from your mouth.

Ramsay watched you as he sat there waiting on the red light to turn, lights and sirens coming from behind. He said nothing as the cop cars soared past. He cleared his throat and lit a cigarette.

"So?" You asked.

"Nothing. We will go home and that's it. As far as I am concerned neither side makes a difference to me. Maybe they will all kill each other. I have no ties to any of those cunts. Guess we will see what happens when the smoke clears tomorrow morning."

×××

"Party tonight?" You asked, looking up from Tyene's message.

Ramsay shrugged, looking up from his computer, "sure. But tell your snake we are partying my way. And I need to meet the kid at one o'clock downtown on the corner of Fifth and Kings Road."

"Um, okay? What are you doing? You've been quiet all morning." You questioned, sitting up from the couch.

"Numbers. And background cheks. This woman your brother is marrying... she's interesting."

"Interesting, huh?" You asked, with a jealous bite.

Ramsay noticed it and laughed, "jealous? Jealousy bores me, doll. You've nothing to fear. I just meant her family. They have bad blood with the Lannisters. Found articles and police reports. Aparently aren't very popular with Tywin's brother. Maybe that's why she didn't laugh or seem surprised at dinner. She's a couple years younger than you. Been in the service for six years."

You listened to him ramble his useless facts on your soon to be sister in law.

There came a knock on the door and you saw Ramsay crinkle his brow in confusion before he rose from his chair.

He opened the door and Damon stepped in.

"Robb Stark. He's looking for you."

Ramsay clicked his tongue and smirked.

"Tell him to meet me at the shop at six. Then we are going to the club for the kids birthday. I only need you with me when I meet the cop."

"Yessir." Damon nodded, clutching his keys and phone.

"Why did you come all the way up here instead of just calling?" Ramsay asked, crossing his arms.

"Because he's security detail this morning." You spoke up, putting your book down.

Your husband looked between you and Damon, who gave a half shrug and nod.

"I thought that was Friday?"

"Babe, it is Friday." You said, furrowing your brows slightly.

"Hm. Interesting." He hummed, leaving the room.

"He good?" Damon asked quietly.

You shrugged, "he's been a bit off for a couple days."

"When's your appointment?"

You heaved a sigh, "Wednesday."

"Ah. I see." Damon nodded, glancing around the mostly empty house.

"This is a pretty dress." You said, pulling the navy blue dress from the bag.

"I thought it would look good on you. Classic waves. Pearls. You have two hours." Ramsay replied, throwing a box of shoes on the bed.

"Why are we dressing so nice to get the kid fucked up for his eighteenth birthday?" You asked, examining the highly polished, black shoes.

"Rite of passage."

Ramsay walked in the bathroom, fixing his cufflinks as you pulled the last if the curlers from your hair. You felt your cheeks warm as you glanced at him in the mirror.

"Why do we look like we belong in the thirties?" You asked, turning to him.

"Dress code." He said, adjusting his tie and placing his fedora hat delicately on his perfectly slicked hair. You just noticed he had gotten a haircut while he was out.

"Where are we going?" You asked, turning back to the counter to find your lipstick.

"It's a surprise."

"Who are we meeting?"

"Matt, your snake, Dame, Charlotte, and Alyn."

He clasped your strand of pearls around your neck, fingers lingering longer than needed as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Alright, doll. First we meet with Stark, then we meet up with the gang."

"I'm following your lead." You smiled, putting your makeup away.

"You will hold your tongue, understood?" Ramsay said, throwing open the conference room door.

You nodded, entering the dark room, as Ramsay flipped on the light. You took a seat and ran your hand over the smooth surface of the polished table.

Ramsay leaned against the table beside you, glancing down at his watch. He tutted in annoyance.

"I really hate when people don't have the courtesy to be on time."

"You'd really hate my mom then. She'll be late to her own funeral." You giggled, tapping your foot on the ground, as you smoothed out your dress.

Moments later Damon entered, looking just as clean cut as Ramsay. You almost didn't recognize him and took a few moments of staring to realize who it was, as he swept his hat off his head and tucked it under his arm, leaning against the wall as Robb Stark walked in stiffly. The news reporter, Talisa a step behind him.

"Let's waste no time, I'm in rather a hurry this evening." Ramsay said, taking a seat beside you.

Robb made to sit across the table but Ramsay held up his hand, "gun on the table."

Robb scowled, pulling his gun and placing it on the table.

Ramsay glanced at you, "check her."

You rose from your seat, walking around the table to Talisa.

"Is this really necessary?" Robb asked, stiffening even more.

"Just a precaution." Ramsay said, lighting a cigarette.

You gave Talisa a small smile, "Sorry. But, safety first." You pat her down, "oh! I love your shoes."

"Uh... thanks?" She said, standing just as stiffly as Robb.

You pulled away from her and returned to your seat.

Robb and Talisa took their seats, both looking very awkward and uncomfortable.

"So, you got my message?" Ramsay asked, resting his elbows on the table.

"Yes. I did. You're a hard man to find." Robb said, with a nod.

"I like it that way. But I've been watching you. Nosing around in things that will get you killed. I would hire a professional hacker next time you try to find me. Now, before I say any more, why have you been meeting with my father?"

Robb eyed Ramsay closely, "he's helping me find my sister."

"Why? What's in it for him?" Ramsay asked, masking his confusion, but not before you took note of it.

"Don't know. He came to me and said he was sorry about my father and offered his help." Robb said, looking down at his hands as he rested them on the table.

You could see the strain in his face. Poor guy. Trying to play by his law abiding, police rules.

"Hm. Well, I am afraid I lied about having your sister. However, I know who has her. But locating her physical being has been difficult." Ramsay said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"Who?" Robb asked at once, snapping his head up.

"Hold on there, detective. What's in it for me?" Ramsay chuckled.

You gave him a side eye, frowning at his enjoyment by keeping this poor man in the dark.

"Bolton, I'm a cop. I don't make near enough what you're asking for." Robb said with a frustrated sigh, running his hand over his face.

Ramsay smirked, putting his cigarette out in the ash tray on the table, taking his hat off, and placing it in your lap.

"And I am just a simple banker, who owns a garage."

"Please. Name your price." Talisa spoke up, grabbing Robb's hand tight.

"Alright, how about this... Give me Theon Greyjoy and I will deliver your sister to you. Bring me Theon and his uncle, Euron Greyjoy and I will give you your sister and fifty k."

Robb gaped, "Theon? Why?"

"That's my business. Deal?" Ramsay said, a grin twitching the corner of his mouth.

"I can't. I don't even know where he is. He never came back to work." Robb admitted, chewing his lip.

The grin spread like poison on Ramsay's face.

"Seem to be losing everyone close to you, huh?"

Robb gave an ugly scowl and made to stand. Ramsay pulled back his jacket to reveal the gun strapped to his chest. Robb sat back in his chair.

"Do we have a deal?" Ramsay asked, rising from his chair, pulling the gun.

Talisa gasped, casting around wildly as Damon stepped in front of the only exit, hand tucked away inside his jacket.

Robb sighed, "Do I even have a choice?"

Ramsay laughed, "And I thought all Stark's were slow on the uptake. Look at it this way, you both walk out of here and never mention this meeting to anyone, you give me what I want, I give you what you want. Easy, right?"

Robb gripped the arms of his chair, "and if I bring the whole department down on you?"

Ramsay sucked his front teeth and gave an eye roll. He lazily held his gun up at Talisa.

You watched her eyes widen and color drain from her face.

"If you try anything stupid, well..." Ramsay said, pulling the trigger.

Talisa screamed as the shot rang out, and a hole appeared in the wall feet behind her. Ramsay had just missed grazing her cheek.

Robb jumped up, lunging for his gun, but Ramsay pulled a knife from nowhere it seemed and buried it in Robb's sleeve, pinning him just out of reach of his gun.

Talisa was sobbing hysterically into her hands, and Robb was fuming. Ramsay glanced at the shocked, sobbing woman in distaste.

"Now. Do. We. Have. A. Deal?" Ramsay asked, fingering the handle of the knife.

"Yes." Robb said weakly, shoulders dropping.

Ramsay wrenched the knife from the table with a satisfied grin and held out his hand. Robb shook it reluctantly.

"Because I'm such a good guy, I'll give you a clue on your sister. Joffrey Baratheon."

Robb eyed Ramsay, snatched his gun from the table, helped Talisa from her chair, and ushered her from the room.

"Remember, if you speak a word of this, your graves are already dug!" Ramsay called after them with a malicious laugh.

Once they were gone you turned to your husband, as he took his hat back from you.

"The Lannisters don't have her though." You said bluntly.

Ramsay chuckled, "I know. But I like watching cops chase their tails. Now, let's get the fuck outta here. We have a long night ahead of us."

"What is this place?" You asked, snaking your arm around Ramsay's waist as he led you down a flight of cobblestone steps to a thick door. There was a small sign above the door that read "Naked Man".

Ramsay only gave you a smirk as he knocked on the door.

You glanced back at Damon, Charlotte, Matt, Tyene, and Alyn. They had all dressed like you and Ramsay. It was like looking back in time.

An eye hole in the door slid back. Ramsay pulled back his sleeve slightly to reveal part of his flayed man tattoo, "Bolton, party of seven. Our blades are sharp."

The eye hole slid closed and a few moments later the heavy door swung in and Ramsay led you into an underground club. It was dim, full of smoke haze, mostly older men, girls dressed in curve hugging floor gowns like yours, and an electro swing band on a wooden stage. It had to be the most upbeat, and yet elegant place you had ever set foot in. The floors were dark polished oak, the walls done up in more elegant wood work. It was cozy and yet regal. It was... classic.

Ramsay turned around, grabbing Matt by the tie and pulling him forward, "your night is on me." He released Matt and glanced at your group, "to the Seven Deadly Sins." He winked, looking past you and letting a wicked smirk grow.

You turned to see what Ramsay was looking at. There in a corner, smoking cigars and playing poker sat Roose and Tywin Lannister.

Ramsay gripped your hand and led you toward his father. You followed unwillingly.

He slid into an empty seat beside his father, grabbed a glass off a tray a woman was carrying, and pulled you into his lap.

He took a very long, exaggerated drink, set the glass down, pulled his hat off, and smiled sweetly at his father.

Roose eyed Ramsay in weariness. "Son. Don't ever see you here."

"Yeah, been awhile. What brings you to the city? You hardly ever come to the city... though I've had it that you've been here a lot recently." Ramsay said, dealing himself cards, and pulling out his cigarettes.

"Mr. Lannister and I had business to take care of." Roose said curtly, eyeing you over.

"Been keeping busy, Lannister? Heard you pulled some amazing feats last night." Ramsay said, glancing up from his cards, pushing them aside, and giving Tywin a calculating look.

"Yes. Stannis is lucky to have the men he still has. Though it may not remain that way very long." Tywin nodded, taking a drink from his glass.

Jaime Lannister slid into the empty seat next to his father. He glanced you and Ramsay over.

"Didn't realize all the Bolton's would be here tonight." Jaime said, taking a drink offered by a woman.

"Strictly coincidence. Now, which one of you is selling?" Ramsay shrugged.

"What do you want, son?" Roose asked rather dangerously.

"Just wanna buy drugs, old man." Ramsay replied giving his father a very innocent look, that could of fooled God himself. "You always got good shit on you. I need it for the night. Look, I'm feeling generous, I'll even pay double."

"I don't need your money, idiot. Take it and go." Roose hissed, pulling a neatly folded bag of fine white powder from his breast pocket and thrusting it at Ramsay.

"Hey, I may get you a 'Dad of the year' coffee cup for father's day this year." Ramsay chuckled, taking the baggie. "Guess I can still expect you Wednesday afternoon?"

Roose eyed you and nodded, "of course. Wouldn't miss it."

You looked daggers at your father in law, thankful Ramsay couldn't see from your angle in his lap.

"Come on, doll. Let's leave the grumpy old men to their boring game. The young lion is cheating anyways." Ramsay said, nudging you to stand, and nodding at Jaime with a polite smile.

He gripped your hand and led you across the club, out of sight of Roose, to the table the Boys sat at.

"Right, kid. Hope you know what an honor it is to be here. I mean both literally here," he motioned around the building, "and officially being apart of the Bastard's Boys."

Matt gave a nod, looking a bit dazed.

Ramsay tossed the baggie he had got off his father to Alyn. "Six lines."

Alyn nodded, pulling his wallet and sliding a credit card out.

"Do you swing?" Ramsay whispered in your ear as you turned your attention to the band playing.

"Yes, actually. It's my favorite." You replied, turning back to him.

"Man, I knew I married you for a reason." He grinned, pulling out his wallet and pulling six crips bills from it. He passed them around, rolling his as tightly as he could.

"To a night you will never remember, or forget." Ramsay said, winking at Matt, snorting the thin line Alyn had carefully slid across the table with the plastic card.

Something about watching Ramsay snort cocaine was slightly heartbreaking. You knew he had used many times over the years, but he had never done it in front of you, and often assured you he only drank, popped pills occasionally, and smoked marijuana since "falling in love" with you.

You stood there watching him drop the rolled up bill on the table, bury his face in one hand, and clutch at his chest with the other. He shook his head, dropped his hands, and turned his eyes to yours as his pupils blew.

"Oh fuck." He muttered, taking a seat and staring at the table.

Alyn clapped him on the shoulder, "just give it a minute. Inhaled too hard is all."

You watched everyone succumb to the high from the blow. You felt like an outsider slightly. You made to sit down when Ramsay gripped your hand and rose from his chair.

He ordered a round of drinks for the table as he led you past the bar and to the dance floor.

"Pretty soon I'll be too fat for this." You said with a sad smile, as you fell into the fast paced steps with him.

He twirled you and pulled you into him, biting at your neck, "until then, though, I will take you dancing whenever you want."

"How is it that you are the most charming and horrible man I have ever met?" You asked, feeling slightly breathless already.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it." He replied, also seeming rather winded. Though it may have just been the drugs. You weren't sure.

Three songs later you had to call it quits. Ramsay returned you to the table, and left you to get you a glass of water.

You glanced around the place, seeing your group scattered, enjoying themselves. It made you smile. Ramsay set the glass down in front of you, taking a seat beside you and pulling your chair closer.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, throwing back his drink.

"You." You said slowly turning your gaze from the room to him.

"What about me?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his brows slightly.

"I dunno. You're different. Not being so murderous or threatening. Treating Matt to, what I'm sure is a very expensive night, and... I dunno. I don't know how to explain it." You said, running your eyes over him.

"All of us spent our eighteenth birthdays here, and he's a Boy now. So, I thought I'd extend the hand. I take care of those who work for me. Sometimes that means doing things like this." He replied with a small shrug.

You nodded, turning back to the crowd, giving a tiny gasp as Tyene climbed up on a table, shouting to get everyone's attention.

"Hey! Tonight we are celebrating a birthday. And the birthday boy needs all your support to help him blow out his birthday candles!" Tyene shouted, as two bartenders set a towering birthday cake on the counter.

Alyn and Damon were helping a very inebriated Matt to the cake. There were a few catcalls and jeers from the crowd.

On the third attempt Matt managed to blow out all the candles, which was greeted by clapping and whistles. Mostly by the older men who took delight in watching a stupid kid make a fool of himself, while trashed beyond belief.

"Cake then?" Ramsay asked.

"Please." You nodded, giving a smile.

"I need a kiss first." Ramsay said, reaching for your face and pulling you toward him.

You placed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. He moved his hand from your cheek to grope and grab at your breasts.

"Stop it." You hissed against his lips.

"You like it." He grinned back, letting a small moan escape him as you slid from your seat to his lap.

"How pissed would your father be if I fucked you right here?" You asked, kissing along his jaw.

"Mm, so pissed." He panted, tipping his head back.

"Good." You purred in his ear, hiking your dress up enough to straddle your husband.

He slid his hands to your hips and gripped hard, as you ground against his pants.

You felt him stir in his pants as he shifted to push his hips into you.

You took one of his hands, sliding it up your dress.

"Gave you a grand to buy underwear and you aren't even wearing any." He said with a small, longing groan as he ran his fingers against you.

"Just wanted you to know that I'm ready." You whispered, biting at his neck.

He shifted I'm his seat, to undo his belt, "how ruined are these pants?"

"On a scale of not to embarrassingly, I'm going to have to go with embarrassingly." You smirked, nipping his ear.

He grinned, peaking his eye open. "We need to move over a couple tables if you're wanting to piss off my father."

"Well, move us." You replied.

"When did you become the bad influence?" He chuckled, cupping your ass as he stood, bringing you with him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing and nibbling at his ear, you made to respond when someone cleared their throat bringing you back to reality.

You pulled away from him to look around.

"Down here." A voice said.

Both you and Ramsay looked down to see Tyrion Lannister.

"Little man." Ramsay chuckled, sitting back down.

You gave a sniff, sliding back into your own seat and fixing your dress.

"Sorry to interrupt. I'm not usually one to be a cock block, but I would hate for such a young, beautiful couple to be caught off guard with their pants down."

You stared at Tyrion, raising a brow.

"What do you mean?" Ramsay asked.

Tyrion nodded at a group of men watching you and Ramsay.

"Fuck them. Jealous fucks." Ramsay said, glaring back at them in malice.

"All the same." Tyrion said, taking a seat at the table.

Ramsay pulled out his cigarettes and offered one to Tyrion, who took it.

"What brings you here?" Tyrion asked, lighting his cigarette.

Ramsay nodded at Matt, who was being held up by Tyene, who was laughing wildly. "Kid's birthday. All my Boys and I spent our eighteenth birthdays here, and so I thought I'd bring the kid as I made him an official Boy this afternoon."

Tyrion watched Matt through his mismatched eyes, a small grin on his face, which was heavily cut and bruised.

"What happened to you?" Ramsay asked bluntly.

Tyrion sighed in his exhale of smoke, "Stannis' little escapade last night. Had a hell of a time trying to keep things together, then father, of course, swooped in and saved the day."

"Ah, fathers. Always stealing the thunder. Aren't they the worst?" Ramsay nodded.

Tyrion gave a bitter laugh, "I will drink to that."

"Hear hear." Ramsay said, turning in his seat to catch a waitresses attention.

She set two glasses down in front of Ramsay and Tyrion, offering you one, but you waved her away.

"Where's your bitch of a sister?"

"Probably off gloating over Stannis' defeat last night." Tyrion shrugged.

You watched Ramsay give a sweeping glance over the room and frown. He sighed, pulled his gun, placed it in your lap, slipping his hand in his pants pocket as he stood up.

You caught the glint of metal as he pulled his hand from his pocket.

"If you'll excuse me." He said, stalking off, grabbing Damon by the elbow as he walked by.

Confused you turned in your seat, seeing the group Tyrion had warned about harassing Matt and Tyene.

Tyrion gave a tut, watching closely as Ramsay tapped the closest man on the shoulder and hit him squarely in the face without a word as the man turned to face him.

Alyn swooped in as Ramsay and Damon tackled the group of men to the ground.

Tyene tugged Matt away from the brawl. He tripped over a chair and fell backward, hitting his head on a the table.

A single gunshot rang out, silencing the room at once; Ramsay standing abruptly, running his hand over his chest and giving a small sigh.

Roose stood there, gun raised, eyes narrowed.

"Ramsay, get out of my club." He snarled, his voice hardly an octave above a whisper that seemed to carry around the room.

Ramsay made a noise, wiping his bloodied lip on the back of his hand, motioning at the men picking themselves up off the ground.

"What of them? They started it!" Ramsay said in a voice of forced calm.

"They are here as my guests." Roose said as if it settled the matter.

"And I'm here as your son!" Ramsay raged, stepping into Roose.

"Get. Out." Roose hissed, narrowing his pale eyes to deadly slits, pushing the barrel of his gun into Ramsay's chest.

"I will remember this. I take back what I said about father of the year." Ramsay said through clenched teeth, a manic grin threatening to show.

He yanked Alyn toward him, grabbing at him, and pulling the bag of powder from him. He turned back to his father and emptied the baggie on Roose's shoes, flinging the empty bag in Roose's face. He dropped a pair of brass knuckles at his father's feet and turned to Damon and Alyn.

"Let's go Boys."

Alyn helped Tyene gather up Matt, and Charlotte appeared at your side, grabbing your empty hand.

You held on to Ramsay's gun and hat, not daring to make eye contact with Roose as you were shunted through the room.

The wind was bitter as you stepped out into the cold night. Ramsay relieved you of gun and hat.

Matt leaned against the wall as you emerged from the top of the stairs. He looked upset, running his hand over the back of his head.

"Sup?" Damon asked, looking Matt over.

"They... I... my shoe." Matt said, unable to string words together in his upset, drunk state.

You looked down to see Matt was only wearing one shoe.

3 notes · View notes

shazyloren · 7 years

Text

The Dragon Club: Epilogue - Christmas 22′

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/28961928

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The winter sun rose in the sky as the bedroom was lit up. The little girl in her bed was awakened by this sudden light, her eyes scrunching up as it was brightly gleaning in her room. She was confused for a moment, before her breath caught in her throat and she leapt of the bed in excitement. she saw herself in her little mirror on her small child's desk and saw her own excited reflection looking back at her.

"Santa" She whispered as the brown curly hair which had grown down to her back, messily hung in front of her violet eyes. It was Christmas day; and she'd been so excited for weeks now, wondering what she was going to get, hoping she'd been a good enough girl. It was then, that the large white husky appeared at her bedroom door, sensing she was awake. "Ghost!"

The dog barked quietly, she giggled. She hugged the dog, he hands around the next of it, almost choking him. He whimpered and she let go.

"Ghost it's christmas!" She jumped up and down a little, causing the dog to get excited once more, even if the toddler had just choked him slightly. Even in his older age he still had handfuls of energy."Let's go see what Santa left us!"

The walked through her bedroom door and ran across the landing, her feet pitt-patting on the wooden floor as she excitedly bound over to the stairs. But before she could start her decent now them, she was stopped abruptly by a voice. "Doreah..."

"Y-yes, Daddy?" She mumbled, annoyed that she'd been caught.

"Come here" Feeling embarrassed the little girl slowly made way to her Mummy and Daddy's room. She opened the door the rest of the way and peered inside. Sat up in bed was both of them, Daddy with a raised eyebrow and Mummy with a small smirk on her face. Doreah was confused; why were they still in bed? It was Christmas, they needed to be opening presents.

"Wassamatter?" The little girl asked.

"Were you going to open your presents without us?" Mummy asked. Doreah felt her face flush red. She hid her face from them. She was instantly caught off guard, as her Daddy swept her off of her feet into his arms. She giggled furiously.

"I sorry" She said between the tickling she was receiving.

"It's okay, come on, let's go downstairs" So they all travelled downstairs, Ghost jumping the last few steps in the most excitement, and went into the living room which had been decorated with a red and gold theme. Doreah's face lit up as she saw a pile of presents taller than she was; she began to jump up and down furiously. She then saw a small pile of three presents off to the side. She looked at the picture, dog bones.

"Ghost, these are for you!" She nearly screamed causing Ghost to jump on the sofa in excitement. Daddy sighed all while Mummy had got the video camera out, laughing loudly too at the excitement of it all.

The next few hours were filled with various screams and cries of happiness in the presents she'd received. Books and pens and toys and clothes and shoes. Ghost had got a new collar and some Dog treats and Mummy and Daddy had given each other some jewellery and some new shirts and socks. "Jon can you just go grab that other thing for me"

Doreah turned to see Daddy disappear, Jon? Oh, Daddy's name she wasn't allowed to call him by. She shrugged and went back to looking at all her other new toys, she also put Ghost's new collar on, a deep red to match his eyes. He was a strange dog to have red eyes. Greywind, Uncle Robb's dog had grey eyes. Looking at her new clothes, she heard her father come back. "Doreah, look"

She turned and flt the biggest smile appear on her face. "A kitty?"

"Yes, she's called Luna" Daddy passed the tiny black kitten over to her, the eyes a bright blue in amongst her raven black fur.

"BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!"

---------

Jon was exhausted, why had he volunteered to cook for all the Stark's and Targaryens? He, Daenerys, Doreah, Father, Catelyn, Robb, Talisa, Lyanna, Sansa, Margaery, Gendry, Arya, Lyra, Bran, Meera, Rickon, Rhaegar, Elia, Rani, Aggy, Rhaella and Aerys. Oh and possibly Viserys if his flight made it on time. He was thankful he's got a range oven, although he wasn't sure that'd be enough room. He'd worked out his timings and calculations and as the Turkey was now done, he whacked the oven up and prepared it for the Yorkshire puddings.

"It's crazy out there" Daenerys sighed as she came into the kitchen, the noise of the entire family behind them. "Bran's telling Rani about his conspiracy of us never actually landing on the moon"

Jon rolled his eyes. "My brother never knows when to shut it does he?"

"Well he's using the fact he correctly guess the gender of the first three Stark babies as an excuse, 'I was right about this, I'm definitely right about us not landing on the moon'. It's quite fascinating" She giggled as she smooched her husband, her hands in his hair. They broke apart, smiles galore on their faces. "Mmm, is everyone gone yet? I'd like to have my husband all to myself"

"Unfortunately no" He moaned. "Stop distracting me I'm trying to make sure this dinner goes off without a hitch"

"Yes, chef" She laughed as she got up on the counter and tried to tease him. He just rolled his eyes. "Would you like me to wear the apron later on? Nothing else?"

Jon dropped his mixing bowl onto the floor. "Daenerys..." He warned her. "You're lucky i just poured the mixture into the tin, that would've gone everywhere"

"What a shame" She cackled. Jon, feeling the heat, put the mixing bowl on the side and crossed over her to take her into his mouth. His hands found her waistband and began undoing her jeans. "Jon, we can't, not here!"

"No one will hear us, y'know?" He said wiggling his eyebrows. "Are you afraid we'll get caught?"

"Shut up and fuck me" She growled as her mouth took his again. It was risky, but they were both so overwhelmed with lust they just had too.

Daenerys reach for Jon's belt buckle and undone them with a speed she'd never worked at before. Her knees came upto her chest as she was on the edge of the kitchen counter, her jeans flung off on the opposite side of the room. She feels exposed, knowing that someone could walk in any second. "Mmm, Daenerys"

"Oh, Jon" She whispered quietly. He moved her panties to one side and swiftly entered her while she was on the edge of the counter. She let out a small cry, trying to be so careful as not to say anything too loudly. He waitd a few seconds, so they could get their position properly, before starting his motions, slamming in and out of her. "Mmm, yes"

"You like that" He grunts as he can feel he's losing himself already. After having a child a lot of the romance had left but there were moments like now, where they just had to have each other. And now, being in the kitchen while their entire family are here was one of them. "Oh fuck"

"Jon, yes, yes, yes, oh god yes" She cried, quite loudly as she tightened around him, her slick sex desperately trying to keep Jon inside her. Jon felt his whole body shake and soon enough they both came together.

Feeling slightly exposed, they quickly cleaned up and redressed themselves, thankful no one came in. Jon would be an idiot to not think that someone may have heard something, and as he tried to hear the people in the next room, he could tell it was a little quiet. As they checked each other over, they thought they looked good.

Opening the door to the living room from the Kitchen, everyone turned to look at them. Jon side-eyed Daenerys who had gone very red. No one said anything.

Well, Arya did.

"Dirty buggers"

Jon felt sheepish

---------

Daenerys watched her husband throughout the rest of the day, they were currently sat eating desert, an english trifle that Jon's mother as particularly fond of, according to Ned, anyways. Her father, wiped his mouth and turned to Jon. "Excellent food as usual, Jon"

"Thank you, sir" Jon said with a nod of the head, finishing his own mouthful before wiping his hands. He stood up and began to gather the plates up.

"Jon, boy. You've been married to my daughter for four years you can call me Aerys" He cackled. Jon just meekly smiled before taking everyone's plates away. "Boy, we'll wash up. You've cooked it all, there's no need for you to clean too"

"Thanks Aerys, but it's not necessary" Jon tried to protest. It was at this that the doorbell rang. Viserys. Daenerys leapt up off of the seat and was racing down the hallway, Luna hid underneath the side table, scared of how many people were present. she grabbed the handle and yanked it open.

There he was, stood with his hair fashioned like Rhaegar's usually is, in a bun. It must've got long. His violet iris' held a twinkle in them and he was smiling. She was glad he could make it. He'd been working so hard now he'd taken over the company his father passed onto him that she hadn't expected him to turn up. But not only did he turn up, he brought someone with him.

Turning to see a small, brown haired girl (a difference from his usual blonde bimbos), she took in her appearance. Yes this was not Viserys usual type, something was off about it. Maybe he was in love. Daenerys had to cackled to herself, Viserys was never in love, was he? "Dear brother"

"Sweet sister" He smiled and hugged her. They broke apart. "This is Lucy, she's a new intern at Targaryen Corp. She didn't have anywhere to go to this christmas so I offered for her to come over here, if we finished in time"

"It's wonderful to meet you Lucy" Daenerys smiled and gave her a hug. That was so.. unexpected of her brother. She was so glad he'd given up all the drugs and alcohol that was slowly killing him. He was 37 months sober now, just over three years. They had a better relationship now than they ever had growing up and she'd began to care for him almost as much as Rae. Not quite as much, but not far off. "Come on in"

She escorted them in and took their coats. "I hope we're not intruding Sis"

"Don't be silly" She smacked his arm playfully. "I'm afraid we've had dinner, but their will be nibbles later in the evening, and I think Jon saved you some for when you did show up"

"Thank you very much-"

"UNCLE VIZ" There was a loud squawk as Doreah's feet slapped on the wooden floors of the hallway. Even though she saw Rhaegar more often, for some unknown reason she liked viserys more and it baffled Daenerys. It might be to do with the fact he brings her presents and sweets.

"Hello big girl!" He lifted her up into a hug, she giggled like crazy.

"Doreah, Uncle Viz has brought a friend over, this is Lucy" Daenerys introduced her.

"Hello!" She said in a hyper manner.

"Hello sweet thing" Lucy said shyly.

Daenerys understood, she could be very intimidating when you first met her. Even for a three year old she was loud and outspoken. She gave Viserys a glance as he was laughing at Doreah's enthusiasm. "Welcome to the madhouse"

---------

"Hat! Cow! Plant!" Margaery shouted as she tried to guess Gendry's charade.

"How is any of what I did either of those things?" Gendry asked confused.

"I'm not good at this game, Gendry! We play it every christmas and it sucks even worse than the last christmas!" She grumped as Sansa put her head in her hands. It was a good job she loved her, Jon thought.

"Peter Rabbit?" Arya guessed.

"Yes!" There was a clapping, they were scholars at this game. "Don't feel bad Margaery, it's better than playing monopoly with him, he gets very angry at that"

"That's because last time you tried to make a deal with Bran against me!" He grumbled, folding his arms. There was chuckling as everyone remembered this moment. Arya had promised to give Bran all her properties if he didn't make any deals with Gendry. "Stupid property game"

"Well I would suggest Twister but I think everyone is a little too drunk for that" Sansa mused, sipping her wine as she spoke. The living room was packed. Everyone was in little groups. The kids were sat watching a Christmas film in the corner while the grandparents all chatted on the other side, leaving the grownups in the middle to entertain themselves with party games.

"I could go for some twister" Lucy laughed. Daenerys thought it would actually be funny to do so. She looked at Jon whose head fell in his hand.

For the next hour they played several rounds of twister, it getting more and more hilarious as it went on. Bran it turned out, had no balance at all, he nearly squashed Meera's foot as he fell after just two moves. The best as it were, ended up being Rhaegar who for a man in his mid forties was still fit from his army days. He did not fall once, not matter who went against him. Daenerys and Jon had just giving up, preferring to have a little smooch on the mat instead.

"For goodness sake guys" Elia had laughed. She had decided to be the spin master, as she had drank an incredible amount of wine. It was Viserys and Lucy's turn next and while Daenerys knew Viz to be strong, she was secretly hoping this Lucy kicked his butt. She wasn't disappointed. Her brother had talked the talk but when he fell after four moves and Lucy was still standing there was a murmur throughout the group.

"So much for being the twister master" lucy said in a very competitive manner. She then froze. "I'm not going to get fired for emasculating you am I? I'm sorry I'm better than you at twister"

Viz just slouched back into his chair. Jon snuggled up to Daenerys who in turn laid her head on his shoulder, the blanket started coming out then, it was getting colder. Arya poked the fire and put some more coal on it, bringing the almost extinct fire back to life, heat immediately filling the room. "Stupid twister"

"Don't worry, you're still the champion at Scrabble" Daenerys had laughed.

"Pfft, scrabble is easy" He scoffed.

Daenerys just rolled her eyes. Oh how these Stark/Targaryen christmases go. Someone always gets upset at losing a game.

This year, it was Margaery and Viserys.

"Guys, look!" Meera spoke as she was stood by the window. They all looked to see white. "It's snowing!"

---------

The doors to the patio open, immediately filling Daenerys bones with a chill that reminded her of aspen. Very cold, in other words. But all the family had put their shoes on and were gathered on the decking to watch as the snow fell. Small and large flakes gracefully fell from the night sky, settling on the bone dry grass and mud of the garden. "It's beautiful"

They stayed silent as they all watched the snow falling in different patterns and shapes. It was almost peaceful, serene. And it was a perfect ending to another successful Christmas between the two houses. Daenerys noted that Lucy had huddled next to Viz for warmth, the children were all sharing a blanket too. This could not be a more perfect day. Well, tomorrow may top it. Given it was Jon's birthday. A boxing day baby. Not that he liked it.

"I guess nows a better time than any" Bran spoke, leaving everyone confused. But as he took Meera's hand and walked with her into the snowy garden it was clear what was happening. Catelyn looked like she was about to spontaneously combust with excitement. Everyone took in a deep breath.

"Meera, we've been friends since we were in first grade" He started, Meera was already tearing up. "You've put up with a lot from me over the years, my conspiracy theories" Everyone laughed. "My tantrums, my inability to contain myself around dogs" What? "But you've done it nonetheless. I have been in love with you for over ten years, and today, I thought it was time to ask you a pretty big question"

He bent down on one knee, everyone had tears in their eyes. He pulled out a velvet box and opened it. Daenerys couldn't see the ring from here but she doubted it wasn't anything too flashy, Meera didn't like all that.

"Meera Reed, will you do me the honour, of becoming my wife?" Bran asked. Meera didn't even give him time she said yes and began bawling. There was a loud celebration as he put the ring on her finger and they kissed. She immediately came running to the deck saying she was freezing her tits off and needed to be warm.

It wasn't long after this beautiful moment that everyone started leaving. Jon sent everyone off with leftover turkey to have whenever not before they all wished him happy birthday as it had gone past midnight.

Daenerys took Doreah upstairs to bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. Luna the cat, sensing everyone had left, followed them and sat on the end of the bed. "See, she likes you already"

"Of course she does" Doreah giggled. Daenerys giggled at her daughter's confidence.

Just as she closed the bathroom door, she heard Jon giving Ghost some turkey before turning the light off downstairs. Now would be the best time to do it, you've only had two glasses of wine, you'll be fine. Daenerys thought.

She went into their bedroom and grabbed the box from her bedside table before scurrying off to the ensuite bathroom. She turned the light on and locked the door. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her jeans and panties down before opening the box and testing the pregnancy test out of it. Sitting on the loo, she weed on the stick. It was awkward, she hated doing these. Finishing and cleaning up she placed the stick on the side. She needed to wait a minute.

Brushing her teeth, she heard her husband enter their bedroom. "Dany?"

"Just a second" She called after spitting the toothpaste out once she'd finished.

Rip it off, it's just like a bandaid. Rip it off.

She glanced at the stick... Two lines.

Happy birthday, Jon, she thought.

She was going to have another baby. Calming herself she unlocked the door and walked out to the bed with the stick in her hand. Jon was getting changed on his side of the bed, his clothes being exchanged for Christmas jammies. "Err, Jon"

"Yes, my love" He said as his shirt came over his head and covered his beautiful torso.

"Surprise" She said holding the stick up. He turned around. His face, frozen for a second, was one of complete and utter ecstasy.

"For real?" He walked round the bed and looked at the test.

"For real" She felt elated. "Happy birthday, hubby"

He kissed her with a deep intensity. Christmas 22' had been the best one yet.

#jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jon x dany #jon x daenerys #jon x dany fanfic #jonerys #jonerys fanfic #got #game of thrones #au #modern au #Modern Setting #the dragon club

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angelsd0ntkill · 7 years

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There are too many interesting things in the concert ask that I wanna answer so I’m doing them all. :^D

How many concerts have you been to? 28 so far.

Have you been to any festivals? Not any proper ones. I guess Paganfest was technically a festival, and same with Heavy Metal Heart, but they were small and indoors so idk.

Which artist/band have you seen the most live? Korpiklaani.

First concert you went to? My Chemical Romance.

Last concert you went to? Heavy Metal Heart 11 Day 2 (Winterthroned, Brymir, and Korpiklaani)

What is your next concert? Ensiferum.

Which artists/bands would you love to see live? Bands I wanna see again: Children of Bodom, Wintersun, Ensiferum, Korpiklaani (always), ALESTORM, BILLY TALENT, Iron Maiden, Nightwish, Arkona. Bands/Musicians I wanna see, period: AC/DC, Lady Gaga, Blackpink, Dalriada, Marina and the Diamonds, Nicki Minaj, The Pretty Reckless, WARMEN, That Poppy. And as I’ve said, I would have loved to see Michael Jackson, 2NE1, My Chemical Romance, Norther with Petri, Enska with Jari, and Tokio Hotel in the Scream or Humanoid era. Actually even Zimmer 483 era woulda been awesome.

The farthest you’ve traveled to go to a concert? Ehh... idk whether Guelph to Toronto or my current home town to Helsinki is a longer trip. The former took longer, but that could be coz of the bus route. I’m too lazy to look it up. Point is, I haven’t traveled very far at all for a concert.

Best opening act you’ve seen? Winterthroned wasn’t technically an opening act but they’re the only ones who come to mind. Eluveitie was pretty good, I guess. I liked them better live than I do otherwise (they opened for Bodom the first time I saw them).

Worst opening act you’ve seen? Whatever bands opened for Billy Talent the first time I saw them. I’ve never been a screamo fan, my dudes, and those headache-enducers did not help that fact.

Have you met any bands/artists at a concert? Not AT the concert, but afterwards, I’ve met all of Korpiklaani, Chris from Alestorm, Olli and Tuomas from Turisas, Masha and Vladimir from Arkona, and, if we’re counting the listening party, Teemu and Jukka from Wintersun.

What’s one thing you have to bring to a concert? Money to buy merch.

What’s the most you’ve paid for a ticket? $78 (Canadian) for the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. (Side note: I looked through my tickets for this question and I’m dying @ the prices I’ve paid for shows there holy fuck metal bands have spoiled me..........)

Best concert you’ve been to? Most concerts I’ve been to have been AWESOME, but my first show will always stand out because it was the first, and it was my favourite band, and it was at the height of my love for them, and I still refer to it as a spiritual experience coz, well, that’s what it felt like. I’ve never felt such a connection to a crowd since, I’ve never had music touch my heart that way since, I’ve never felt that passion and whirlwind of emotion and sheer awe since.

Worst concert you’ve been to? Honestly, probably the first time I saw Children of Bodom. Not because the band or set-up was bad or anything, but because I got pulled down into the pit,grabbed by assorted people, a drunk man put practically all his weight on me and tried to kiss me??? and I had to punch him to get away, I got separated from the people I was with, and I ended up having to spend the whole show near the back, not even able to see the band. And this is literally all I remember from the show!! What songs did they play? What antics did they get up to? HELL IF I KNOW!!

Have you been in a social media post an artist posted after a show? YEAH, since moving back to Finland and making sure to be in the front as often as possible I’ve found myself in loads of after-show pics on Facebook. :D Also, when I saw Ensiferum and Finntroll in Canada, I was mentioned in a Finnish newspaper in Toronto coz they could see my Finnish flag. B) Not social media, but still cool.

Funniest concert memory? The singer of Winterthroned asked if we wanted to hear a joke and we were like YEAH and he was like it’s a bad one and I yelled EVEN BETTER and he applauded me and told the joke: “What does it say at the bottom of a Swedish swimming pool? ... Smoking Prohibited.” ... which I found hilarious for some reason. And the whole thing was so random I was just like lolwat. There are probably funnier things I’ve seen but this is so recent it’s the first thing that came to mind.

Do you buy your tickets as soon as they go on sale, after, or the day of? As soon as possible if it’s a band I love, maybe later if I’m not sure whether I want to/can go, but I never the day of, I don’t wanna risk it being sold out.

Have you ever been noticed by an artist at a concert? Hahaa, yeah. The Finnish flag got me noticed at the Ensiferum and Finntroll show by almost everyone in both bands. I was also front-and-center the first time I saw Korpiklaani at a tiny club in Toronto, so it was kinda hard not to get noticed. I also kinda tugged on Jonne’s hair to get his attention, whoops. I apologized after the show, though. :^D And at Paganfest I was also front-and-center and when Alestorm was setting up I got a fist-bump from Chris!

Have you met any internet friends at a concert? Not yet... :0c

Which concert that you’ve been to has had the best stage setup/production? Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s set-up was pretty boss. MCR’s was definitely impressive when they were touring for the Black Parade, too. I don’t usually pay that much attention to that, since it’s rarely a big deal at the shows I go to. :P

Have you ever caught a guitar pick, drumstick, got a setlist, etc.? I got Finntroll’s setlist when I saw them, and I’ve got picks from Korpiklaani, My Chemical Romance, and Wintersun. Also, when I saw Billy Talent in Finland, I CAUGHT AARON’S DRUMSTICK, but so did the 3 girls to my left, and since they were all there together, they won the tug-of-war. :(

Favorite concert venue? The Opera House in Toronto became a fast fave, and in Helsinki it’s Nosturi, followed by Virgin Oil Co., followed by The Circus.

Least favorite concert venue? The Sound Academy in Toronto annoys me for some reason. Also don’t really like Kaapelitehdas in Helsinki, but I’ve only been there once. I think it’s coz they’re both kinda inconveniently situated, and something about the layout, especially Kaapelitehdas.

Which do you prefer: indoor or outdoor concerts? Indoor.

Which do you prefer: clubs, theaters, arenas, or stadiums? Clubs.

Have you ever missed school or work to go to a concert? LMAO YES. Or, well, when I worked, I’d make sure to book that day or weekend off well in advance, but school? Lol, I was an excellent student, I can miss a day or an afternoon no problem.

Have you ever been surprised with tickets from someone? My mom got me a Billy Talent ticket for my 17th(?) birthday, but other than that, nope, I’m usually the one surprising others with tickets.

Who do you enjoy going to concerts with? Ehh, I’m used to going to concerts alone, so it kinda throws me off when I’ve gone with someone. It’s not bad, it’s just weird. Different. I haven’t gone to shows with anyone one person enough to answer this.

General admission or seated concerts? General admission.

Have you been to multiple dates for one tour? No. :(

Have you been to concerts 2 or more days in a row? No. :(

Have you ever received free tickets from a contest or an artist’s crew? Nope.

Have you been front row and/or back row for a concert? I always strive to be at the front, though sometimes (first time seeing Bodom, last time seeing MCR, only time seeing Stam1na) I started out in the front and either got forced to the back or had to shove my way there lest I have a panic attack and die or something.

Have you ever gotten sick, bruised, or broken a bone after a concert? I’ve probably caught a cold from waiting outside in below-zero temperatures wearing jeans, a tshirt, and a hoodie (ain’t nobody got time for coat check). And of course I’ve found mystery bruises. No broken bones, though.

Have you ever had surprise guests at a concert you attended? Jon Gallant from Billy Talent appeared on stage during the opening band’s set the last time I saw MCR. That was awesome. I knew the bands were friends, but I never saw that coming. :D

Did you start listening to an opening act after you saw them in concert? I really liked what little I heard of Valkeat, who opened for Wintersun. I also liked Winterthroned, though as I said, they weren’t technically an opening act. Both are on my “listen to more of” list.

What’s the latest you’ve got home from a concert? Whenever I went to concerts in Toronto, I’d have to crash at my dad’s place in Richmond Hill and then get home a.s.a.p. the next day if I had school or work, so... latest getting to my dad’s was probably 6:30 to 7:00 in the morning, and if we’re counting actually getting home then like... 11:00 to noon the next day? Haha.

When is the earliest you’ve arrived to a venue for a concert? 8 hours before doors.

Have you seen your favorite artist in concert? Yep, but I’d love to see them more!! Alas, I cannot, as they have broken up.

Longest you’ve waited in line for a concert? 8 hours. In rain and snow. Without a jacket or gloves. #YOLO

Have you ever attended a concert alone? Almost exclusively.

What’s the best part of a concert in your opinion?

Have you ever heard/seen an artist soundcheck before their show? Nope.

What’s the biggest venue you’ve been to a concert at? The Air Canada Center or the Molson Amphitheater. Not sure which one’s bigger.

What’s the smallest venue you’ve been to a concert at? Mod Club, the place in Toronto where I first saw Korpiklaani.

Have you ever had side stage seats? No.

Which venue have you been to the most concerts at? Nosturi, maybe?

Do you post a lot about a concert you’ve attended on social media or very little? I post pictures and might tell a story or two. :^D

Has a concert or tour you were planning on going to got cancelled? No.

Have you seen a band in concert before a member left the band / they broke up? My Chemical Romance for BOTH -- I saw them before Bob Bryar left and after, and obvs before they broke up altogether. Saw C.o.B twice before the Roope debacle, too. And I’m not sure about this, but is Aaron not touring with Billy Talent anymore? Oh, and I’ve seen Ensiferum before Emmi left. Well, other than that I’m not sure about line-up changes and whatnot.

Favorite song you’ve heard live? Probably “Famous Last Words” and “It’s Not a Fashion Statement, It’s a Fucking Deathwish” by MCR.

Have you ever seen an artist/band play an album in full? My Chemical Romance played The Black Parade in full and came back and did a bunch of songs from the previous two albums.

Which artist would you refuse to see in concert? Uh. Anyone I don’t like?? Idk, there are some artists where I probably wouldn’t buy a ticket myself, but if someone wanted to take me, I’d go. It’s hard to think of specific bands/artists I would refuse to see. You couldn’t pay me enough to go to, like, a grindcore show or some screamo shit or techno/DM/whatever you call that nonsense my brother listens to. Oh, and obviously NSBM is completely out of the question.

What’s the craziest thing a fan has done at a concert you’ve been to? Crowd-surfing/stage-diving. I remember at Paganfest while Turisas was on security barely had to do anything, Warlord had that shit under control, he’d just toss bitches back into the crowd.

Which venue(s) would you love to go to for a concert? My favourites...? There aren’t really any special venues I’m dying to see, lmao.

Have you ever been to a concert at a venue that no longer exists? Not that I know of.

Have you ever lost something/got something stolen at a concert? I lost my bus ticket home at an MCR show which fucking sucked coz I was super low on money to begin with and I had to buy a new one using my Finland Fund. >.>

Have people made fun of you or laughed because of how you were acting at a concert? Ehh, one time I covered my nose coz someone behind me was smoking weed and the smell makes me nauseous and I kinda didn’t wanna throw up or pass out, and my boyfriend at the time got all huffy and annoyed and was like “grow up” and I said “you grow up” and rushed off and people laughed a bit, but more like in a “daaamn u fucked up” way imo.

Have you ever been kicked out of a concert? Nope.

Has an artist thrown or spit water on you? Nope.

Have you ever seen a security guard dance to a song at a concert? No.

Have you seen any acts you don’t like at a concert? Huntress and Ex Deo at Paganfest. -_-

Have you ever passed out or thrown up at a concert? No, thank the gods.

Have you seen any artists in concerts that you don’t like anymore? Nope!

#the life of a Julian #about me #sorry to mobile users

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moonh3ad · 8 years

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Vanilla - A Destiel Fanfiction - Chapter One

Mary wrapped her arms around her son and ruffled his hair.

"Please try not to get into too much trouble okay?" She says. Her voice is so soft and sweet.

"I'll try," Dean says, letting go of his mother's embrace.

"Dean. For me?"

"Of course. It just kinda sucks jumping into school 3 months in."

"Pumpkin, you'll be just fine okay. I'll make you some pie for when you come home. Promise."

She kissed Dean on the forehead and turned him around to face the building.

Dean walked through the huge double doors and aimlessly wandered around, admiring pictures hanging from the walls. There was a picture of the school math club. On the far right were two girls with curly black hair, and a boy wearing a green t-shirt and had a suspicious smirk on his face.

Eventually he came across a small room that said "Main Office."

Inside it looked snug, with a large desk taking up most of the room. Inside the desk, sitting upon a black chair with wheels was a smiling woman. Her straight brown hair rested on her shoulders and her dark, chocolatey eyes lit up when she smiled.

"Hello!" She said. Her voice was kind and welcoming. "You're Dean Winchester right?"

Dean nodded his head, biting his lower lip.

"Oh please, don't be nervous sugar. I'm Mrs. Harvelle, here's your schedule, locker number and combo and if you ever have any questions please feel free to ask. Your books and binders are in your locker already. I promise you will enjoy this school very much."

She smiled cheerily at him, and he flashed a tiny grin, taking his schedule and a small notecard with his locker number and combo on it from her hand.

He turned around and walked out of the office, looking down at his schedule to see what his first class was. It was Monday that meant... English. English? Of course it was. Of course he would start off at a new school with his worst subject. Just his luck.

Still not knowing where to go, he continued on his stroll down the hall, checking the outside of every classroom door to see if the junior English class was any of them. He passed by more and more pictures on the way. There was a line of photography students had taken, probably for an AP class. There was a girl with long blonde hair with a flower up to her eye. Finally he arrived to a cozy classroom that said English - Mrs. Mills on the side of the door. He peeked down at his schedule, and underneath English it said Mrs. Mills. Yep. This was the one. He hesitantly opened the door, to see a woman standing up at the front of the colorful classroom. "Are you Dean Winchester?" She said sweetly, giving Dean a little smile. "Yep," he replied, awkwardly stepping towards her. "It's nice to meet you Dean, please take a seat wherever you'd like."

Dean eyed the room to see that the only free seat was next to a boy with bulky black glasses and a beige sweater on, his face staring down at his desk.

Mrs. Mills handed Dean a copy of a book. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. A book he had never read before, but then again he had probably only read like 5 books in his whole life.

She stood next to the whiteboard and wrote a bunch of stuff about what people should be recognizing about the characters in the book, Dean only half paying attention. He was paying more attention to the people in the classroom. In the back of the room was a girl with long crimson hair and light green eyes. Sitting next to her is the girl with curly black hair from the math club photo.

Mrs. Mills continued the lesson while Dean almost fell asleep, but something caught his eye. The boy next to him finally looked up, to reveal a beautiful face with aquamarine eyes that look like the sun from underwater

His eyes were so gorgeous.

He had never seen anything like it. And his smooth black hair that fluttered over his forehead made Dean's heart skip a beat. There was something about him that kept Dean staring and staring. Staring until Mrs. Mills got up and yelled "you are dismissed!"

After class had ended, Dean headed to his locker, which was right next to a girl with short, curly red hair who was wearing a bright orange flannel and a Star Wars shirt.

"Hey!" Dean said, smirking and winking at the girl.

"Hi," the girl replied, rolling her eyes.

"So uh, what's your name? I'm Dean."

"I'm Charlie. Nice to meet you Dean," she said, emphasizing the word Dean.

They shook hands as Charlie grabbed a red binder from her locker with character names and hearts written all up the side.

"Jon Snow? Who's that your boyfriend?" Dean said with a chuckle.

She let out a noise that was a laugh but more like a snort and stared at him like he had just tried to convince her that he was a unicorn.

"Guess again, he's a character from a TV show."

"Oh yeah right, right. That TV show..."

She faced him in disbelief.

"It's called Game of Thrones dumbass. Ever heard of it?"

"Oh yeah totally. I watch it all the time," Dean says, gritting his teeth.

Charlie rolled her eyes and smirked at him.

"I think we're gonna be good friends, Dean," She says with a wink.

A girl with short brown hair ran up to her, a leather jacket clinging tightly to her skinny torso.

"Hey! Who's this?" The girl says, glaring into Dean's eyes.

"Oh, um, hi! I'm Dean it's nice to meet you."

"Alex," she says smiling.

Charlie wrapped her hand around Alex's wrist and pulled her into their next class.

Suddenly and blonde girl came walking past wearing a grey tank top and a green army jacket.

"Hey, you must be the new kid," she says. Her voice is sweet and sticky like maple syrup.

"Yeah, I'm Dean," he says smiling. The girl smiles back, parting her strawberry lips, holding out her hand.

"Jo, nice to meet you Dean."

Dean glances at his schedule to see that he has math class next. He groans. Math? Really?

"Listen, I have math next. You mind showing me where that is?"

"Of course not," she says, smiling.

All of a sudden a tall boy with short brown hair and subtle turquoise eyes walks up to Jo, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her silly. Jo giggles, but looks annoyed through her obviously forced smile.

"Adam quit it!" She says jokingly, still giggling.

Adam continues kissing her cheeks, starting to trail down her neck.

"Adam seriously!" She says, her voice deeper and louder this time.

Adam doesn't stop but instead rubs Jo's stomach and lightly nibbles on her ear.

"Adam!" She yells, pushing the boy off of her.

"What is it babe?"

"Not here. Not now. Not in public."

"Come on baby, we've been together forever. Everybody knows it."

Dean stands awkwardly, twiddling his index fingers, chewing on the inside of his mouth. He clears his throat, trying to remove the awkwardness from the situation. Adam throws him a stern look, his icy eyes like knives.

"Who's this kid? He bothering you?" Adam says, stepping slightly in front of Jo.

"What? No, no. This is Dean. He's the new kid."

Dean half-smiles at the boy, which results in the kid walking even closer to him. Adam outstretches his arms and smiles back.

"Nice to meet you Dean. I'm Adam," Adam says flashing bright white teeth.

Dean shakes Adam's hand and backs up, grabbing a black binder from his locker.

"It's nice to meet you too. I really gotta go to class though." Dean says, walking backwards.

"Um okay," Adam replies.

Dean turns around and continues walking. He had no clue where the math room is, but he trotted down the long red hallway, looking for a room that said math on it, but there was no sign of one. All of a sudden a short boy in an oversized grey sweatshirt came walking towards Dean. The boy had black hair and obvious bags under his eyes, most likely from lack of sleep. Dean tried to avoid the boy and keep walking. The last thing he wanted was to meet another person. But, the boy seemed intent and talking to Dean, so he stopped and turned around.

"Hey! You look lost."

Thanks, Dean thought. Was it really that obvious?

"You must be the new kid, Dean right?"

Dean nodded, rolling his eyes and putting his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

"I'm Kevin. I can show you around if you want."

"Um. Sure, thanks. I'm looking for the math room."

"Well I happen to be going there too! It's on the second floor."

Dean followed Kevin up the speckled blue stairs and through the large glass doors. The first room on the right was the math room. The two of them ran in, immediately looking at the clock. Shit. They were 6 minutes late. First day of school and Dean managed to already screw it up.

The teacher who had long curly hair walked up to Dean. Dean expected her to burst out screaming and yelling about how they were late, but instead flashed a welcoming smile.

"You must be Dean! I'm Ms. Barnes. Please take a seat."

Dean walked towards the nearest empty seat, and Kevin followed, but got pushed back by Ms. Barnes.

"Not you Mr. Tran. Why are you late?"

Kevin looked down and twiddled with his sweatshirt.

"I was showing the new kid around," he replied, looking at Dean.

"Mhm. Well this won't happen again, correct?"

"Yes of course Ms. Barnes," Kevin said, already walking towards an empty seat.

Ms. Barnes grinned at Kevin and chuckled. Ms. Barnes handed out graded tests to all of the students, except for Dean of course. Alex and Charlie were sitting closer to the back of the room, and they waved at him when he turned around.

"So what did you get?" Alex asked Charlie, licking her deep red lips.

"An A. How about you?" Charlie asked.

"An A+!" Alex exclaimed, smiling excitedly.

"Really?"

"Yes! I mean I studied my ass off every night. I barely even got to watch Game of Thrones."

he teacher passed out some more worksheets with numbers and letters scattered across the page. What the fuck was this? Dean had never really learned math. He left the academics to his nerdy brother, Sam. When they were little Sam and Dean would go to school frequently, and then come home and tell their parents everything they did. Every Thursday after school they would go to the zoo. John would hold Dean on his shoulders as he pointed to the animals in awe, and Mary would push around Sammy's stroller, who was fascinated by everything. It was just perfect. But then everything changed that one summer.

Dean stared at the page, mostly copying the answers off of the girl sitting next to him. He shortly realized it was the girl from the math club picture.

"Hey! I'm Dean," he says holding out his hand.

"Meg. But all of my friends call me a demon so if you hear that term, they're talking about me," she says jokingly, giggling to herself.

Dean awkwardly smiled, looking around at the other kids in the classroom. It felt so weird getting into this school so late in the year. He

Dean's thought process was interrupted by a loud ringing.

"Lunch!" A girl with long brown hair exclaims.

Dean walks out of the room, Kevin walking up towards him.

"Hey buddy!"

Dean nods and smiles, not really in the mood to speak. Kevin walks in front of him and catches up with some tall boys with blonde hair, but another boy comes walking towards Dean. Immediately Dean knows who it is. It's the boy from English. The boy zooms right past Dean, practically pushing him to the side. Dean gasps at the feeling of his cold skin. For the few milliseconds they're touching, Dean feels electricity pipe through his skin, and a feeling of weightlessness fills his body. The boy turns around looking up at Dean, his beautiful eyes looking right into his soul.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispers. His voice is low and gravelly.

"It's fine."

They stand there simply staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, before the boy turns around and starts walking again. Dean pauses for a second, then runs up to him.

"Wait!" He yells.

The boy pivots towards Dean right away.

"What's your name?" Dean asks sheepishly.

The boy looks shocked, as if he'd never been asked that question before.

"C-C-Castiel. Castiel Novak"

"Castiel, wow. That's quite the name."

"Yeah, I guess so. And you are?"

"Um, Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Oh. It's nice to meet you Dean Winchester," Castiel beams.

"Right back atcha' Castiel Novak."

#vanilla destiel fanfiction #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #highschool au #alternate universe #highschool #deancas #fanfiction

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natriautomarketingagency · 8 years

Text

The Man Who Talks to Land Cruisers

Onur Azeri is known among many Land Cruiser aficionados as the go-to guy for old Land Cruiser parts. There are dealerships and there are aftermarket parts companies, but no one, I'm told, knows parts the way Azeri does.

"He's the dude," Jon Held, a member of the Gotham City Land Cruiser club, said while supervising the offroad test of our project '88 Land Cruiser. The others in the group nodded.

His reputation as someone with a deep understanding of Land Cruiser parts and how they relate to one another is why we worked with Azeri in our own build. It was difficult to find a lot of the little hard parts we needed through ordinary channels. For example, if you're in search of a 6mm tapered shim and no one else knows what you're talking about, Azeri will know. If you need the crossmember from a truck of a different vintage, not only will he know how to source one, he just might pull one off of a truck sitting in his driveway and mail it to you (he did that for us).

Part of Azeri's deep knowledge comes from the fact that he himself is a Land Cruiser nut. He owns and wrenches on his own trucks. But there's more to it than that. Azeri is a Land Cruiser philosopher of sorts. He turned up at Brooklyn Motor Works—the shop in which we built our Land Cruiser—over the summer, when we were still mid-project. He had driven up I-95 from Atlanta in a right-hand drive '85 BJ70, a tiny Japanese market Jeeplet powered by a torquey, slow-going 4-cylinder diesel motor. Summer weather had done its work and Azeri looked hot.

"I don't mind," he chirped. "I just keep cold drinks in a cooler behind my seat and I can drive this thing 55 mph all day."

Interstate driving, he said, wasn't the point. This truck was meant for the slow crawl over logs and boulders.

You may not know "parts guys" personally, but most of the ones I've met were of the modern, "get your parts and get out" variety, their sole mission being to get rid of the customer as quickly as possible so that they could move on to and get rid of the next one. Azeri said he looked to the parts guys of yesteryear for his inspiration, striving to be someone who could look at a part and know not only what it did, but also its context within the greater mechanical organism.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'd be remiss in not telling you that Azeri was a PhD candidate at Kent State University before he became a Toyota guru. He was studying, as he puts it, "social scientific research methodologies in application with ancient Greek philosophy and rhetoric, sociology of knowledge and technology, and forms of representation." Whatever that is. Sounds like a good place to start when diving into trying to understand something as complicated as a motor vehicle with more than 5,000 interrelated parts.

While he was writing his dissertation, his academic adviser died suddenly of brain cancer, leaving Azeri in an odd lurch. That was in 2004, and he found himself unsure of his direction.

"To lessen the psychological burden, I was teaching university classes as an adjunct while writing my dissertation in a small, dusty office on the sixth floor of the university library," he said. "At a certain point, the academic worldview became hollow and devoid of meaning."

Meanwhile, he was also spending time in machine, fabrication and auto repair shops in and around Cleveland, Ohio, dabbling in wrench turning. He'd already been working on his own Land Cruiser for a few years and said the hours, days and weeks spent busting his knuckles on old trucks began to take on new meaning. Conversations he'd had with his future mentor, Dan "Cruiserdan" Busey had him thinking about striking out along a different path.

Then one night – Valentine's Day – a plow truck cut him off when he was driving along I-77. Azeri swerved to avoid hitting it and his Land Cruiser rolled onto its side near the edge of the highway. Cold and alone, he waited for a tow truck to rescue him and his busted truck. In the aftermath of the wreck, he decided—along with wanting to rebuild his Land Cruiser—that it was time to make a major change in his life.

"I called up Cruiserdan and asked him if he was still serious about a conversation we had years earlier about my becoming a parts professional," Azeri recalled. "He was indeed."

So Azeri shed himself of most of his belongings, donated his academic books to the Oberlin College library and moved to Albuquerque, where he worked under the tutelage of Cruiserdan at American Toyota.

"I began the methodical process of learning how to be a real parts guy; a parts guy who knows not only how to understand the Toyota parts logical system but also how to correlate that with the 'real world' of Toyota Land Cruisers," he said. "All the while, I learned the necessary vocabulary, skill-set and background knowledge to develop both a theoretical expertise and a lived expertise—building stuff, breaking stuff, fabricating stuff, and exploring the great American West in my various Land Cruisers."

As Azeri's understanding of his new discipline grew, other opportunities presented themselves. He was promoted to assistant parts manager at the dealership, then he moved to Salt Lake City to run a Land Cruiser shop. Eventually, family drew him to Atlanta, Ga., where he's based. Out of all of it—the numerical intricacies of Toyota's parts system, the reality of maintaining a machine that could withstand off-road punishment and the stunning natural scenery in which he was enveloped—Azeri developed a philosophy.

"Anyone can look up at Toyota part number and buy the damn thing, but very few people know a ten or twelve digit Toyota part number and know the entire worldview of that number in its various manifestations—what the first five digits mean, what the suffix digits mean, which Toyota Group keiretsu company manufactures the part, where the part is made, how many different variations of the part there are in its lineage, and so on," he explained. "After all, Land Cruisers are basically all-purpose appliances in the best sense of the word—they either work or they don’t in their intended functions. Thus, using the Toyota part numbering system becomes more akin to the later, mature Wittgenstein of the Philosophical Investigations, where the goal is not to create a structure or rules or policy, but to apply and build, to understand the object or the situation in front of you in a more engaged and lived manner."

Interesting things happen when a philosophy student becomes a parts professional. Not many tend to think of parts and machines that way, but Azeri's unique outlook made him a sort of medicine man among Land Cruiser aficionados.

"Owning a Land Cruiser is like being a member of a tribal organization with rituals, frameworks for action and understanding, and a shared, collective memory of the past," he said.

Deepening his understanding of what he already learned meant traveling to Japan in 2010, to the Toyota factories where Land Cruisers are built. There, Azeri watched the care that went into the manufacturing process as each truck came together on the assembly line.

"After the new Cruiser roars to life, it's sent off to a brightly-lit area where white-gloved women start feeling, caressing, inimitably probing the work of everyone before them," he said. "When we asked the Yoshiwara Plant manager at a post-tour briefing about why only women did the final body quality check on the Land Cruisers, he said that only women seemed to have the touch—kanjiru—necessary to truly understand whether the truck was ready for the end-user. That made a lasting impression on me."

What this all really boils down to, though, is utility. Land Cruiser folks love their trucks, and there's a reason for it.

"How does one traverse the most difficult terrain all over the world in the most reliable and functional manner? Well, you drive a Toyota Land Cruiser," Azeri said, adding that everyone from child-toting suburbanites to Colombian narcos to Médecins Sans Frontières doctors use the trucks to get where they're going. "The Land Cruiser’s ubiquity in all terrains, circumstances, and cultures is the defining reason to always answer the question 'Why Land Cruisers?' with 'Why not?' And because they are damn cool, to be honest with you."

from The Drive - Vintage http://www.thedrive.com/vintage/6703/the-man-who-talks-to-land-cruisers via IFTTT

#The Drive - Vintage

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