Send Me A Word, If It’s In My Wip Document I’ll Answer Your Ask With The Sentence That It Appears

insp. by x

quick sansa sketch to try out new brushes

sansa’s ableism on the night of her wedding, which she did not consent to, where she was molested and almost sexually assaulted by a grown man who happened to be disabled, is apparently more insidious than ableism exhibited by jon, robb, bronn, jaime, etc. based on the number of essays written about it meant to condemn sansa

Oooh loove this😍

Askbox prompt: Jon/Sansa Jane Austen Au? Thank you lovely! :)

It’s a little more regency inspired by way of Georgette Heyer, but I hope it might serve ;)

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“I don’t see what the fuss is about,” Arya complained, flinching away from the darling grey ribbon Sansa was tying into her hair. “It’s only Jon. You were positively awful to him before. I don’t see–”

“Only Jon is our cousin,” Sansa announced airily over her sister’s complaining, as though Arya did not know this. “Only Jon is finally home from the Continent and we ought to give him a proper welcome, wearing proper clothing and not the tattered rags you wear to ride Nymeria.” 

Jon’s visit was the first they would have visitors after their parents’ deaths, and though she had always found him dour and odious, and though she and Arya were still in the greys and lavenders of half-mourning, Sansa was determined to make the best of it. There were only a few months left before it was up to Aunt Lysa to launch her into the ton. If she could be gracious to her cousin Jon, then she could handle anything.

Sansa tugged helplessly at the bodice of Arya’s soft muslin morning dress. Arya was growing so fast, though, and she was already wearing one of Sansa’s spare gowns to accommodate her height.

“Jon isn’t going to care about any of this,” Arya complained again as she stomped down the stairs toward the drawing room where Jon was waiting for them. 

Sansa did not have the chance to argue with her. In fact, all her fantasies of testing her charms on their cousin with her performance on the pianoforte, or whiling away the time discussing Lord Byron’s poetry, were quickly dashed when they entered the drawing room. 

It turned out that Jon was not, in fact, the sullen cousin who spent his summer visits slouching around Winterfell. Instead, he was straight-backed as he examined the books shelved by the mantle and, when he turned to greet them, Sansa saw that he cut an excellent figure in his Hussar uniform. While Arya dashed forward to greet him, Sansa gripped the entry table with a flash of panic. 

“Captain Snow,” she said weakly as Jon bent to kiss her hand – not at all the sisterly kiss he had laid on Arya’s hair. “What a pleasure.”

i know in my heart that modern au sansa has an instagram entirely devoted to lady and posts videos captioned "bath routine of my direwolf 🥰 #dogbath #doggrooming #direwolf" where she's filing lady's nails and applying lotion to her paw pads while lady sits there with big loving eyes and all the comments are like "GIRL THIS IS AN APEX PREDATOR WHY IS IT IN YOUR HOUSE"

I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.

We Run the Gamut (Let's Run Away)

boy and girl meet. live parallel lives. and, one day, they start to come together. scenes inspired by all the different types of love for the @jonsa-valentine event 2024.

AGAPE

love for everyone

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

Jon looks up from where he's been sulking in the dark to see one of the Stark girls — the redheaded daughter — standing outside the front door to the guest house. She'd knocked once already, but Jon had ignored it, thinking whoever it was would just go away. Now, he can see she's still out there, silhouette illuminated at the top of the stairs. The porch light catches copper highlights in her hair and makes them glow.

He wonders if she's annoyed she has to knock instead of just letting herself in. Maybe she used to spend a lot of time in the apartment over the Starks' detached garage. Or maybe she never came out here. Maybe her bedroom in that fancy old house is already so big and private she never bothers to explore anywhere else.

"Hello?" she calls again. "Mrs. Snow?"

When Jon finally answers the door, flicking on the living room light as he goes, he sees that the girl — Sansa, he thinks — hasn't come empty-handed. In her arms is a ceramic dish full of some sort of baked good, little tarts or custards with cooked lemon slices on top.

read the rest on ao3

OLDER BROTHER MADE A NAME FOR HIMSELF WITH THE FEDS “WHITE TRASH DICK” BUT I LOVE HIM TO DEATH HE'S SO GOOD TO ME AND TO NOBODY ELSE SO YOU CAN FUCK YOURSELF

shoutout to my sensitive bitches we out here crying !!! weep girl weep

hi!! :) i love all you fics i was re reading your princess diaries au and i was wondering if you had any plans on continuing? if you did i’d love to see the aftermath of jon missing his date with sansa and how upset arya is too! and the ball scene!! ily <3 :)

hi!!!!!!! this is really good timing asking this because i've actually been working on it a lot lately!!!! (@cellsshapedlikestars even helped me noodle my way through a part where i was stuck xoxoxoox)

i'm not sure if the next chapter will be the last or if i'll need to break it into two more (maybe a sansa pov??? not sure) but i've got at least one more jon bit coming that should cover at least some of that!!!

aaaaaand because i am so delighted to get a lil anon message about it, here is a sneak peek!!!!!

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“What happened to my romantic little boy?” she tuts, and Jon drops his head back to groan at the ceiling. 

“Mom, I’m not a little boy anymore.”

“I know, I know,” she says, and when he glances over, she’s haphazardly folding all of his tees into a messy little pile. “You’re all grown up now and ready to lead some foreign country, but when I look at you, I still see that same little boy who swore up and down that he was going to have a foot-poppin’ first kiss.”

“Mom!” He can feel the way his face flames hot, flushed, even though there’s no one there to witness his embarrassment other than the woman dead set on causing it. He wonders if he could get away with pretending he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he’s pretty sure that wouldn’t stop her. 

“What?” she asks, mock innocent. “I’m not allowed to talk about what a sweet boy you were?”

“Can you just… not?” he begs again. “Please?”

The thing is, he does remember. They’d been watching some old movie, one of those black and white ones where everyone spoke in an inexplicable accent, and when the hero had grabbed his girl and kissed her, one of her feet had lifted off the ground as if it had a mind of its own. He’d been determined to have a first kiss equally as powerful, equally as passionate — and his mom had laughed. And then, when she’d seen how serious he was, how struck he was by her laughter when he was not joking, Mom, it’s not funny, she’d assured him that of course he would have a foot-popping first kiss one day. He guesses now that she already knew then not all princes were made out of fairytale stuff, but he’d been young and starry-eyed and determined to be different than his parents. And then he’d gotten older and reality had set in for him, too. 

“Besides,” he grumbles, “I already had my first kiss years ago, and Ygritte wasn’t exactly a ‘foot pop’ kind of girl.”