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They’ve been texting a bit over the past day, ever since they ran into each other at the dry cleaners. Every message sets something ticking in her chest, even if most of them are just gossip about mutual acquaintances or Jon telling her about the job he’ll be starting in the fall teaching physics at Winterfell Academy.

The plan is to go over to his place and watch a movie or something. Which Sansa would usually interpret as code for pretending to watch a movie and having sex on the couch, if it were anyone other than Jon.

So, has anyone ever written a Jonsa fanfic where Catelyn barely survives the Red Wedding (but doesn't actually die), but is recovering for time enough for the events actually unfold (Sansa with Littlefinger, Jon being killed, Ramsay Bolton, Rickon's death, TBOTB) and then she just comes back and boom. Jon is King in the North. Sansa is Lady of Winterfell. Arya is still missing. Bran is the three-eyed raven.

She tries to adjust to her new reality (trying to avoid LF crusty ass), but Sansa is a cold and stern Lady, just like Catelyn raised her to be (unfortunately, ever the loyal and supportive woman to her bastard brother - because she would be so trauma bonded to him, that he was the only one that could make her feel safe. I mean she would always think "that they had Jaime Lannister and I wasn't safe"), Arya, when she shows up, is so unladylike and tomboyish and doesn't really connect with her, always cold and distant, and Bran, oh poor Bran, he also doesn't act like her son anymore, just like a vaguely old friend wiser than thou.

The only one that's somewhat reminiscent of the past is Jon. Brooding and sulking. Awkward. With shy eyes that avoid her, shameful glances. The only one that stands when she arrives or leaves the room, ever tiptoeing around her, like a baby chicken with its mother. Always the side-lined bastard, trying to fit the ever-too-big kinghood clothes. And she finds comfort in that. In him.

Literally, just a fic about Lady Catelyn finding a son in Jon after losing all of her boys, shaping him into a king, while observing the careful interactions of Sansa and Jon (and thinking that it would be delightful to see them again, together, under the godswood tree, with the throne secure within the family and them all safe and sound - until the Night King be a problem, and Dany after him)

Jon decided the kind of person he was the morning after Jeor’s funeral, when he packed a bag and a van and hit the road. Left his phone. Left his life. There’s a word for that, too. Disappearing has an ominous connotation. Running, not so much. Hiding.

He’d never call it that if anyone asked. Good thing nobody asked him.