#renly’s mom had her on her own birthday!

[intriga-hounds]

baz and renly share a birthday! baz is 4 today and renly is 2!

[honestgrins]

Plus One || Gendrya

It became something of a tradition for them, attending weddings as each other's plus-one. They were certain to have more fun hanging out than getting caught in round after round of awkward small talk. That was what Arya told Sansa, anyway, when her sister noted Gendry's place at their table on the seating arrangement.

.

“They’re keeping it small, trying to limit the snide comments from Mom and Dad about the baby.” Arya leaned over her controller to get a closer look at the TV, artfully dodging Gendry’s elbow for blocking his view. “If anyone says ‘shotgun wedding,’ I’m pretty sure Theon will start throwing punches so Robb doesn’t have to.”

Gendry shrugged, swerving a bit to match his car on the screen. “Sounds like a normal best man duty to me.”

Snorting, she kicked his leg away from her side of the couch. “I’m just glad they’re not making us all stand in the wedding party,” she said. “Sansa is still a bit miffed to be denied bridesmaid status, but it feels dumb to wear some formal gown here at home.”

“I can’t even picture you in a dress,” Gendry admitted, only to grunt when her fist landed in his stomach. Keeping a tight clench on the controller, he nudged her back. “It’s true!”

“I literally wear a skirt to school every day.”

Rolling his eyes, he kept his focus on the game. “You know what I mean. We’ve been friends for years, and I’ve never seen you dress up.”

With a triumphant grin, Arya cheered when her racer crossed the finish line. Dropping her controller to the coffee table, she stretched out her hands. “Because we play football and video games. I’d look pretty silly in a dress for that. But I wear them!”

“Whatever you say, Arry,” he said, his voice wry. 

She harrumphed back into the couch, picking at the holes in her jeans. “Well, you’ll see at the wedding now, won’t you?”

His eyebrows rose. “I’m coming? I thought you said they were keeping it small.”

“Uncle Robert will be invited,” Arya shrugged. “I assume you would be, too. If not, be my guest. I'm allowed to bring a friend. The food will be good, enough booze will be flowing to rival my eighteenth birthday, and I’ll die of boredom since Jon can’t make it.”

Gendry nodded. “You had me at good food, but that’s too bad about Jon. He can’t get leave?”

“Dad had to really press Uncle Benjen for details, but he’s apparently on some Ranger mission. He’ll be out of contact for months, and Robb and Talisa don’t exactly have time to wait.” She refused to call it a pout, but Arya still frowned down at her lap. “It’s his own stupid fault for signing up to serve at the Wall right after graduation. If he’d just taken a gap year, then-”

“Then,” Gendry interrupted with a friendly hand on her knee, “he would just be missing something else important. Our job is to get as many embarrassing photos as possible for him to feel like he was there.”

And suddenly, she was smiling down at her lap instead. 

.

It became something of a tradition for them, attending weddings as each other's plus-one. They were certain to have more fun hanging out than getting caught in round after round of awkward small talk. That was what Arya told Sansa, anyway, when her sister noted Gendry's place at their table on the seating arrangement.

.

The old lady had a sneer to match Cersei's, which only made Gendry more uncomfortable when he realized Arya had all but disappeared. Leaving him alone in the middle of Renly's reception was a sure-fire way to get stuck explaining his bastard status. "You do have his looks, like something out of a photo album," she decided matronly. "But the whole business is...unseemly."

"Yeah, well, sins of the father and all that," he said as politely as he could. But with his fists clenched tightly to rein in his temper, he didn't bother to hide the way he looked around the ballroom for any sort of distraction. Of course, he found Arya next to the cake, impatiently waiting for the grooms to cut it. Making his way toward her, Gendry barely muttered a quick excuse to the woman still sneering at him. "Hey," he called. "What happened to protecting me from nosy lords and ladies?"

Arya's smile upon seeing him turned apologetic. "I'm tipsy, I have a sweet tooth, and there's cake. You're good at math, I'm sure you know how that adds up."

"Just tipsy?" Loras and Renly sauntered over to them, the former shaking his head. "Our wedding's a smash darling, you should be nothing less than sloshed."

"Cake first, please," Arya grinned up at them. She leaned into Gendry's side, her head lolling back on his shoulder. Sighing, he let his arm slip around her back to hold her steady.

Narrowing his eyes, Renly couldn't help a grin of his own. "Don't you look-"

"Ah, there we go," Loras interrupted, having found the cake knife. "Let's get the imp fed and back to dancing."

Gendry blushed as Arya focused only on the cake, though she didn't move away from him. Their friendship had survived the long distance while she attended university in Braavos, and he was glad to have her back in time for his uncle's wedding. But it was both a relief and a torture to have her back like she'd never left, especially when she so easily tucked her hand into his as they watched Renly smush frosting across his husband's face.

.

Jamie and Brienne's wedding was a fun one, especially considering the museum they used as the venue hosted a weapons exhibit at the time. They'd both drooled over the swords, and Arya taught him a water dance move or two during the Electric Slide. If only Gendry had known it'd be their last wedding non-date for a while.

.

Arya breathed out a sigh of relief once she found him at the bar. "There you are!" She snatched the glass from his hand and set it down, only to grab his hand instead. "Sansa and Margaery want the bridal party to join in at the end of the first dance, and I need a partner."

Thoroughly confused, it was all Gendry could do to keep up. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Shaking her head, she walked them over to the edge of the dance floor where the brides were swaying to the music. "Bran convinced him to take a little smoke break, so they're giggling over by the kitchen doors to pounce on unsuspecting appetizers." She glanced over to Ned, waving when he smiled. "You don't mind helping me out, do you?"

"No," Gendry said, his voice a bit hoarse. "Not at all."

Arya gripped his hand when the melody changed. "That's our cue. I'm barefoot under this dress, Waters, so don't go stepping on my toes."

He smirked down at her as they fell into the rhythm, his hand spread wide at her back. "What happened to the girl who hated the idea of a big dress? I didn't think Braavos would change you so much, Stark."

Her eyebrows fell despite the amused smile she gave. "Aww, did you miss me?"

"More like I don't recognize you," he admitted. "Fancy dress, pink hair, new boyfriend."

"Ned's a good guy. Probably too friendly for your surly brooding," she teased, "but we have fun. It's college, right? I'm supposed to be having fun."

Gendry tugged at the ends of her hair, hovering just at the nape of her neck. She had to fight back a sigh, not quite prepared for how good it felt. "Hence the pink. It suits you, even if I'm surprised Sansa let you get away with it for the pictures."

"Had it clashed with their colors, I'm sure she would have asked me to change it. Let's call it personal growth that she didn't even bring it up. Mom did, though. She only calmed down when I told her I'd be bringing Ned with me."

He scoffed lightly. "Lady Catelyn must be thrilled, you practically engaged to a Dayne."

Glaring, she moved the hand on his shoulder to flick his ear. "Now I'm about to step on your toes. Again, we're just having fun. I don't need the 'you're next' brow waggling from you, of all people."

His posture sagged a bit, though he finally mustered up a smile. "Alright, have your fun." And he twirled her out, a bit clumsy, but they both laughed when she crashed back into his chest.

.

Ned Dayne also made it to Jon Snow's wedding north of the Wall, one Gendry hated to miss for work, even though a part of him was glad not to pretend he wasn't half in love with Arya Stark while she danced with someone else.

.

She had graduated university and moved back home, free and single, just in time for Bran to marry Jojen Reed. Once more, Gendry was roped in as her plus-one, despite several attempts on his part to make it a real date. With her hanging around his flat like the old days, he had ample opportunity to make a move, and he hated himself a little more each time he failed to ask her out. The afternoon before, he felt the deadline looming.

"Ugh," Arya groaned as she flopped onto his couch. She snuggled deep into his side while he read his magazine, carefully tugging his arm to rest over her shoulders. "Mom is still insisting on a full slate of wedding activities, even though Bran and Jojen are technically eloping. Why do they need a rehearsal dinner if they've already signed the paperwork? It makes no sense."

"Only Sansa gave her the big society wedding she wanted," Gendry pointed out. "Maybe let her keep a few traditions intact, especially if this is the last wedding she'll get to host." But Arya tensed next to him, and he frowned. "What? You know Rickon will never settle down, at least not traditionally."

She didn't meet his eyes; instead, she toyed with the lace hem of her dress. "I guess I don't count. No one wants to marry Arya Horseface."

His heart might have stopped in his chest. "What?!"

"Well, you clearly don't think I can get someone to a wedding, so-"

"No! Arry, I just meant-" Gendry swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, his hand having tangled unconsciously into her braid. "You've never mentioned marriage before. The closest you got to seriously dating was Dayne, and you all but laughed in my face when I mentioned engagement and all that. I-"

Eyes narrowed, she blinked slowly. "You've thought about this."

He ran a tired hand through his hair. "It's crossed my mind, is all," he answered, defensive. "Besides, you've gotten me to several weddings, I don't know what you're on about ha-"

Whatever rambling compliment he'd been about to give was swiftly cut off by Arya's lips, her hands cupping his face to hold him close as she kissed him. Gendry hesitated only a second before falling into the kiss, gathering her in his arms and hoping she wouldn't mind being late to Bran's rehearsal dinner after all.

.

Apparently, Rickon Stark was willing to settle down, though Gendry was right the youngest wolf wouldn't give into all the traditions his parents wanted. That was how the whole family ended up in some tacky, Lysene chapel. Arya cheered the loudest when her baby brother dipped little Lyanna Mormont into their first kiss as man and wife, more than aware of her own boyfriend's arms around her waist. She didn't find out about the ring in his pocket until two weeks later.

.

"Are you sure your parents won't hate me for this?"

Arya rolled her eyes, pinning him with a loving glare as she signed her name with a flourish. "A little late to be worrying about that, Mr. Stark."

What she hadn't expected was the sudden, wet sheen in his eyes, but she loved the broad smile looking at their marriage certificate put on his face. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Waters. Or we could both take Baratheon, really throw the hell out of everyone."

"Renly would love it," she grinned. Lacing their fingers together, she squeezed his hand. "We really did it. We're married. You married me."

Gendry affectionately tapped her nose. "On purpose and everything. No regrets?"

With a deep breath, she couldn't help but smile. "None. You?"

Brushing his hair back, he scratched at his head. "Should have called Ned Dayne to be a witness, but-"

"Here we go."

"I'm just saying, it would have been good to dot the I's and cross the T's that you're mine."

She poked his chest with her free hand, heart catching at the glint of gold on that finger. "And you're mine, caveman, so get over it already."

"Yours," he vowed, pressing his forehead to hers. "Always."

[crowkingwrites]

Battle of the Bands (Ch.7)

fPairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2394 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six

The next day you didn’t go to work. You didn’t even bother with the fest. You woke up at a crisp 7am sun peeking through your room. A hot cup of coffee warmed your hand, but you greeted the day with some sobriety. You turned your phone off on purpose. You wouldn’t spend today flirting with boys and getting news stories.

Before you left Margaery, she instructed you to not visit her.

She remembered a time where she was hospitalized before, and all you did was check up on her every five minutes. Sure, this was still during your internet friendship, but it still annoyed Margie. If anything, Margaery has a great excuse to relax and enjoy her injury. Well, as much as anyone can enjoy themselves while they are in the hospital.

Margie’s pet bird sang when you went to go greet her. She sang sweet songs to you. Every sip of hot coffee tasted just as wonderful as the last.

You decided to do your own writing on your computer. Your toes curled up and relaxed as you opened a new word document. Words flowed out of you as unusual as it was. You wrote about Viserys and how his hips moved. How good it felt when he kissed you. Then you wrote about Ramsay. How much of an asshole he truly was, but he loved to flirt.

Then you wrote about Robb. Angry words broke away from the soft thoughts. He treated you like you were his. You belonged to no one. You didn’t have to answer to him or for him. Nastier thoughts started to unfold. What if he did hire you just because you were cute? What if he just hired you so you would date him? All of it left a bad taste in your mouth.

But, Robb wouldn’t do that. No, he proved how good of a person he was. Right? Sure, he was adorable to look at, and he worked hard for the music store and magazine he ran. Still, the darker thoughts clouded your mind. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to call him. You weren’t sure exactly what to do.

You texted Loras. Surely, your gay-pseudo-brother knew what to do.

You to Loras: [ Hey, I still can’t wrap my head around last night. ]

Loras to You: [Oh thank God! I was waiting for you to say SOMETHING. Margie couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Sorry sis.]

You: [I fucking knew it. She told you everything?]

Loras: [Everything. Did you quit or what?]

You: [No, but it hurts. Do you think he hired me so I would date him?]

Loras: [Hunny no. You are a talented and a hardworking writer. Anyone can see that.] You pushed away the computer and sat on the sectional couch. Gray clouds started to block the sun. Your fingers made busy work to Loras.

You: [Why does this all feel so weird then? Why do I wanna talk to him? I’m so mad at him! What if I lose my job?]

A panic started to rumble its way into your head. The questions came soaring afterwards. What if you did lose your job? What if you never got a chance to write again? This was your only chance, and you fucked it up and—

You had to stop. You hated panic attacks. As sociable and popular as you were, panic attacks left you defenseless. Your heart pounded against your chest. Things around you started to be louder and brasher. Margie’s bird singing became a screech in your head. The air you breathed tasted like sharp chalk. It hurt so bad.

You called Loras.

“Loras!” you shouted.

“Hey, hey now. You’re alright,” Loras reassured you. You felt a tear go down your face. Another one fell after it.

“I’m gonna get fired! I can’t get fired!” you told him.

“No, no, no. You are not going to get fired,” Loras told you in a calm, but firm voice. “And even if you did, no one will hate you for it.”

“I’m a failure!” your voice let out. Insecurities bubbled up to the surface. “Robb gave me my one chance at writing for a career! And I fucked it up, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t—

“I’m so stupid! Oh my god, I’m so stupid!”

“Y/N, you’re alright. It’s okay! Just—

You heard other noises and a shaking before you heard Loras’ voice again.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. I can’t help you right now, but there’s someone who is on their way who can. I’m sorry. I can’t leave work. But someone’s on their way, ok? Hang in there for sis.” As Loras hung up the phone, you felt yourself collapse onto the ground. Your cries expelled out of your body as if you were having a fit. You felt your shoulders shake and your teeth chatter.

As the wood in your apartment creaked, you could’ve sworn you felt the room grow smaller. You heard your silly sobs and you wanted to punish yourself further. How stupid were you to think that you could do this? You wanted to find something. You had to punish yourself. This was your fault. It was your fault. It was you—

You heard someone knocking on the door frantically. A voice matched it.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” Jon said. “It’s me! Jon! Loras and Renly sent me here. Are you okay?” You picked yourself off from the floor and walked towards your door with a bewildered expression. After opening two of the three locks, your door creaked open to a worried Jon Snow.

His dark curls were the same, but you swore you’ve never seen his eyes this close. The sky was darkening and so were his eyes. No sunlight touched the brown color in them. Instead, a darkness colored them darker as if he had his own demons too. They were there in his eyes, just lurking in the background.

“Jon?” your voice creaked out.

“Oh, Y/N. Let me in, okay?” Jon nodded to the door. You stepped back and let him in. You quickly noted his backpack and a few grocery bags he had with him. Confusion replaced most of the tension, but you could still feel the tears come down your face.

“Jon, what are you—

“I heard you over the phone. Loras asked me to come, so here I am,” Jon explained. He set his things down and walked over to you. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth to tell him, but then conveniently remembered who Jon’s brother was. Your mouth closed so fast that you almost hurt yourself.

“I don’t know if I can tell you,” you quietly said.

“You can,” Jon nodded. You shook your head violently.

“I can’t,” your voice broke. Tears streamed down your face again. Without any prompting, Jon pulled you to him. His arms wrapped around you firmly. You felt him breathe calmly. Your nose caught his scent of cologne. He smelled much sweeter than you expected, but it calmed you. You found yourself breathing with him as your sobs were laid to rest. Jon let you out of his warming and reassuring hug while both of you sat on the sofa.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Jon said. He grabbed his bag. “But, I did bring something that could really help the problem.” You watched Jon pull out a small leather bag, a lighter, and a glass bong.

“You smoke?” you said, surprised.

“Yeah,” Jon nodded. “Nearly everyone in the family does.”

“Including Cat? Your mom?”

“She advocates for it, but she’s quiet about it, yeah,” Jon smiled. You watched him pack the weed gently and firmly into the bowl. Then, you watched Jon hit it. The smoke swirled up into his chest. He held it for a moment, and released it. Smoke left his mouth in a singular, long stream. As if he was one of those 1940’s mobsters who cut a good deal with the police.

Jon passed it to you. “It will calm you down. It helps.” You took the bong from him and hit it harder than you wanted. The burn in the back of your throat betrayed you. You ended up coughing much more than you expected.

“Sorry, it’s been a while,” you said. Jon shook his head and smiled, unpacking the grocery bags filled with all kinds of snacks. Cookies, salty chips and dip, and you spied a king-sized chocolate bar. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh, yeah, this one’s for you,” Jon offered it to you. You held the king-sized bar to your face, comparing the size. A genuine, hearty laugh left Jon as his eyes squinted. “Feeling better already?”

You took a big bite of the chocolate. “Well, you know what they say, eat this, you’ll feel better.”

Jon relaxed on the sofa and dug into the chips. He squinted at the window. “Oh, well I guess it’s going to rain after all.” The gray clouds outside had blocked out the sun completely. A bit of rain started to drip onto the city streets. Luckily, you decided to not go into the fest today.

“You said Loras sent you here?” you said taking another hit from the bong.

“He did,” Jon nodded.

“Why aren’t you at the pub? You could be playing for another crowd of people who want to get away from the rain,” you pointed out.

Jon shrugged. “Didn’t want to. I didn’t have the energy. Besides, it was never about the crowds for me. I’m happy playing music for just one person.” You smiled to yourself knowing that you were in good company.

“Did you want to watch something?” you gestured with the remote in your hand.

“Yeah, anything you want. I’m here to hang with you,” Jon’s smile gave you a sigh of relief. You never knew what to think when someone helped you through a panic attack. Sometimes, your mind went to the absolute worst thoughts. Jon didn’t seem to mind. You clicked on another nature documentary and took another hit from the bong.

“So,” you began another conversation. The rain started to hit the window as thunder rolled. “How long have you been smoking?”

“High school,” Jon said. “On my sixteenth birthday, Uncle Benjen pulled me aside and introduced me to it. You seem really surprised?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem like the type to—

“Straight edge. Like Robb, right?” Jon chuckled, and you almost did. You bit your lip and became very quiet. Jon moved closer to you. His fingers reached out to you. “You alright?”

Your continued silence gave Jon the hint.

“What happened with Robb?” Jon’s tone became very dark all of a sudden.

“Last night, I was with someone and Robb was really upset with me.”

“Is this about Margaery going to the hospital?” Jon asked. You nodded and continued.

“He called me over and over and over again. When he found me with someone, he got really angry with me and said some mean things to me and—

Jon held his hand up to stop you. “He told me his side this morning. I know what he said. I know who you were with and everything.”

You felt the tears come back to your eyes, but before you could cry too hard Jon hugged you again.

“I don’t like what Robb said to you. I especially don’t like what he was going to do about it.”

“He was gonna do something?”

“He was going to fire you,” Jon said. “Until I convinced him how horrible of an idea that was.” Jon sighed and rolled his eyes. He took a long hit for himself. The smoke still came out in a single stream. You weren’t going to lie. You were starting to like this Stark brother much more than the other.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend. And you’re a great writer,” Jon sat back. You joined him. “Robb wants to work with people he likes. That’s why he hires his friends, his family, and sometimes his girlfriends. When he’s mad with people, he holds their job over their head to get them to do what he wants. Robb’s my brother. I love him, but he’s fucked in that regard.”

“Ramsay told me about a girl named Robyn.”

Jon groaned. His hands slid down his face as more frustrated noises came out of him. “

“Robyn. Robyn was a mess. You’re different than her. Very different. Is that why you had a panic attack? You think you’re going to lose your job?” When you nodded, Jon hugged you even more. “That’s not going to happen. I promise you that won’t happen.”

“Do you think I’m a whore?”

“No,” Jon laughed, letting you go. “I think you are a very pretty single girl who just wants to make friends in a new city she just moved to. Anyone who tells you different can fuck off.” You hugged Jon. Letting your arms wrap around his middle and taking in every scent of him. Jon was so nice to you. From the moment you met him till now, he was always so sweet to you.

Which was why you kissed him on the cheek and then backed away very quickly.

Jon sat there, almost stunned. His smile didn’t disappear.

“So, you’re a little high, huh?” he laughed it off. You felt the relaxing notion of the THC take over a few minute ago, but it didn’t hit you until now.

“I guess,” you giggled. Your laugh faded into a big smile. “Thanks for coming over. It means a lot to me.”

“Believe me, I understand more than you think,” Jon gave you a half-smile. You jumped up and grabbed one of your homemade blankets from your room and brought it out to the living room. You tossed it over Jon and smiled. Jon fixated the blanket to give you both room under the quilt warmth.

“Do you wanna stay here all day and get high with me while we watch funny stuff?” you asked, hoping for a yes.

“I would absolutely love that,” Jon patted the seat next to him where you sat. Both cuddled up in a happy bundle while the storm went on.

Note to Self: Panic attacks are not ok. Getting help from good friends makes it all okay.

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