#I was OBSESSED with show theonsa back in high school

[nedseii]

If ur willing could u draw sansa and theon? Love ur art and interpretation of the characters!!

Thank you!! Here you go fellow Theonsa believer 👊

[wishingupontheskyandstars]

Eight People I’d Like To Know Better 

I was tagged by @rogue-elven-jedi Thanks so much :) These are always fun to do! 

1) name/alias: / Liana 

2) birthday: Dec. 2

3) sign: Sagittarius 

4) height: 5′6″

5) hobbies: Reading/catching up on shows/films/writing fanfic/cooking

6) favorite colors: Blue/grey/purple

7) favorite books: I’ll always love Jane Eyre, and the Harry Potter Series (I haven’t read the books in years and very interested to reread them again as an adult). 

There’s also The Last Queen by: CW Gortner (I remember this book forever changed me in high school, just wow) 

Thoughtless Series by S.C. Stephens 

I love the early work of Emily Giffin (Something Blue, Love The One You’re With, Where We Belong...)

8) last song listened to: The Last Of The Starks by Ramin Djawadi (I’ve been listening to this a lot while writing...sigh so beautiful). 

9) last film watched: Hmm...I believe it was: Northmen - A Viking Saga. Tom Hopper...yeah 💕

10) inspiration for muse: Many things really...It can legit be anything, from music to books, films/tv shows, or with friends/out and about, different things/images...I remember there was a Tumblr text post a couple months back that explained this perfectly. 

11) dream job: Writing full-time. 

12) meaning behind url: I originally had another name when I opened this blog but a couple weeks later it just didn’t feel right and then thought of this one. It’s just something that maybe explains me in a way. At night, ever since I can remember, I would go outside and look up at the stars and have this feeling of wishing things would get better...anyway *shrug*

13) top 3 ships: Reylo, Gendrya are my top 2. I love other ships as well like sherlolly, theonsa, finnrose, and I know I’m forgetting others. Oops well couldn’t think of another top ship like the ones above. I love many! 

14) lipstick or chapstick: chapstick 

15) currently reading: I had the urge the other day to reread one of my faves...Something Blue by Emily Giffin. I love this story so much. The development within the characters is just wonderful and I love the romance in the story, it’s pretty chaotic at first but then...Sweet lol of course

Tagging:  @greeneyedwildthing @ladyoftheforce @ginger-the-snarky @waterlilyrose @polovtsiandances @josephdempsie @castle-and-crowns @a-nerd-obsessed 

[ava-rosier]

Ta-dah, have a preview of my Theonsa tumblr fic. More like ‘I wanna prove to @theonbaejoys and @soapieturner that I haven’t forgotten about it’. It’s untitled because I haven’t thought up the perfectest wittiest title yet. 

Rated Mild-for-Theon, with a little kick.

“I can't believe I've never done this before.”

“What- slept with me?” Theon wriggles his eyebrows suggestively.

By this point in her life, having known him for fourteen years, Sansa's eye roll is reflexive. “Me on your couch while you were in your bed doesn't count as sleeping together. Or is the number of women you've claimed to have had sex with inflated?” she retorts, making Theon hold his hands out in show a of halfhearted self-defense. She knows he isn't offended, he's teased her worse than this and she's snapped back at him harder than this.

“Hey now, don't go casting aspersions on my ability to count. I'll have you know every single woman left me knowing I'd fucked them so good their mothers probably felt it before they were even born.”

Sansa groans at the tasteless modifier; he snickers. This is classic Theon; he's always been a horndog chasing after girls and, to hear Robb tell it, he's equal opportunity about college women and horny divorcées nowadays.

She holds up her wine glass, waving it in front of his face. “I meant this. I've never drank alcohol before nine in the morning. Actually I don't think I've ever drank alcohol before noon. And drinking at a club at two a.m. doesn't count!” She rushes to add the last before he could catch her on a technicality.

“Math and alcohol at 8:38 on a Sunday morning. Well, you can always count on me to provide you with new experiences here, Princess.” The old nickname rolls off his tongue easily, but it settles on her differently.  Here, thousands of leagues south of where they'd grown up, Theon's pet name for her feels like a special, secret language shared by only them, that no one else knows.

Blinking away this strange, intrusive thought, Sansa glances around the empty pub backyard instead. It's a chilly Sunday morning in Blackcrown and the skies are just gray, gray, and more gray. Even with the building in the way of the wind, it blows strongly enough that droplets of rain periodically hit her in the face. The Salty Hoar has all the markings of a dive bar: sticky, banged up wooden tables that rock unsteadily when you place any weight on them, chairs that don't match, and a very basic bar selection that reluctantly includes some greasy fare. She can see how Theon loves it.

Despite the cloudy day, they both wear sunglasses, and neither can claim to be hungover. The shades do make them look like they have no fucks to give, which perfectly accessorizes the Naval-brand sweats she is borrowing from Theon to wear on the train back to Oldtown in lieu of the rather fussy and dramatic black dress she'd worn the night before, which is now folded up in a plastic shopping bag.

This is the strangest walk of shame she's ever taken.

She takes advantage of the relative anonymity provided by the sunglasses to study the man sitting next to her. Theon slouches in his chair, looking out at the homes and businesses situated on the hill below them, leading to the shoreline. He's always been boisterous and cocksure, perpetually in motion and in your face. But now there's a genuine self-assurance about him, a contrast from his teenage years. Clearly the military has been good for him.

His head nods to the rhythm of a song only he can hear, fingers lightly drumming on the side of his glass. Sansa isn't sure why it feels so alien to be sitting here with Theon Greyjoy, someone she's known over half her life- laughing and talking with him until her cheeks hurt.

Robb. That has to be it. The answer comes to her with the sort of quiet clarity that makes her feel external to the moment. She had only ever interacted with Theon as Robb's best friend. That has to be why it feels so...taboo...to be here without Robb in between them.

“Thanks again for rescuing me last night and letting me crash at your place.” Harry had never treated her particularly nicely, she could see that now. But what she'd thought was a sweet summer flirtation that could grow more serious had only become tense and distant once the fall term had begun and everyone was back in Oldtown.

He'd been too cowardly to tell her outright he didn't want to be in a relationship anymore and instead had resorted to treating her like shit until she got fed up and called him out on it. Of course, she had decided the last straw was when they were out of town and he kept passively-aggressively complaining about every activity Sansa wanted to do. Hence how she had ended up abandoned in an unfamiliar place at a very late hour of the night.

Theon shakes his head, making a little moue with his mouth. “Nah, don't worry about it. And I meant what I said before. I know some guys. Just say the fucking word and we'll castrate this douchenozzle.” He sounds gleeful at the thought.

A wave of fondness sweeps through her.  She's glad, rather than irritated, with her older brother now for having the foresight and determination to put Theon's number in her phone before she moved so far away from her family. “There's no need. I am in a sorority, after all, and all I have to do is tell a few of my sisters what Harry did, and they'll spread the word. He'll be symbolically castrated at the Cit.” She smirks as she fishes through her purse for her phone, having now remembered Margaery's demands of an update this morning. Her friend might actually be awake by now.

“A patented Sansa Stark revenge, nice!” Theon whistles before taking another slow pull of his beer. “I always knew you were gonna be a sorority chick by the way.”

Sansa arches an eyebrow. “Did you now?”  He looks altogether too smug, chest all puffed out.

“Yup.  In high school, you and your girlfriends were into the whole 'wear tiny pajama shorts and have pillow fights to tease the boys' thing. That cute friend of yours, Beth? It always was obvious she wanted a bounce on Robb's cock. Sororities are basically the same thing, just times ten.”

Sansa is torn between gagging at that mental picture, and smacking him over the head because of the warped stereotype about sorority girls. “One: I really don't need to hear about my brother's penis, thank you. And two: we don't have pillow fights, we support each other and organize charities,” she argues. He is unrepentant, however.

“No, but you get all dolled up and go clubbing, don't you? I betcha have lots of guys panting after those legs of yours in a tight skirt.” If it weren't for the sunglasses, Sansa suspects she would see Theon's eyes roving over her body. Did you pant after my legs in those tiny pajama shorts? She wonders with a small frisson of excitement.

“Maybe so.” To distract herself from the way her body is flushing, she scrolls through her notifications before unlocking her phone. Bran had texted her something with the latest meme sweeping through the internet, one or two of her friends had asked what her plans tonight were, and there are a few Tumblr notifications.

“Anything from Dick Move?”

“Nope. I kind of want to block his number outright,” she admits, “but I'm also hoping he'll try to get a booty call out of me someday just so I can completely ignore his text.”

Theon slides his palm through the air in front of him. “Read 10:23 pm.”  He chortles at the thought.

“Exactly.”

She goes to her Tumblr app, promising herself she won't eat through most of her monthly data in one go.  When the page loads, there's a gifset from her favorite historical fantasy show, she makes sure to like it on the spot. Before she can stop him or tilt her phone away, Theon's bending his head close to see what she's got on the screen.

"You’ve got a Tumblr too? No fucking way!” he exclaims.

Why does he have to be so loud? At least she doesn't live in this town and there's barely anyone within earshot. Sansa hisses as she hits the home button on her phone, glaring reproachfully at him. “What's so 'no fucking way' about me having a Tumblr?”

He shrugs, shaking his head in the way men do when they know better than to tell the truth. “Nothing, I'm just surprised. Dunno why.” There's something different about his attention now, even though she can't see his eyes.

“Too. You said 'too'. That means you've got one. If anything I should be surprised you're on that site,” she says accusingly.

“What can I say, I'm a man of surprising depths.” She snorts at that, which he accepts with good humor. He snaps his fingers and points at her, grinning. “You know what you should do? You should give me your url.”

She gives him a look like that's the stupidest thing in the world. “I'm not sure I want you to know the depths of some of my fandom obsessions.”

“Come on,” he cajoles. “It's Uncle Theon-”

“Ok, that is so creepy. Never do that again.”

“Fine. But my point still stands. It's me. D'you think there's much that's going to shock me?”

She bites her lip and contemplates it. Maybe it's the weirdness and giddiness of having wine in the early morning, but Sansa finds herself grabbing a pen and scribbling her url down on a napkin and handing it to Theon, who slides his sunglasses to the top of his head to read it.

“'lemoncakess'. Cute. I bet it's very aesthetic.” As he chuckles at the url that had taken forever for her to settle upon (all the good ones she wanted were being hoarded), Sansa finds herself mentally scrolling through her tumblog's archive, trying to remember if there were any incriminating text posts or embarrassing reblogs.

“Don't diss the aesth. I bet yours is full of shitposting.”

“And then some.” He winks, folding the napkin and shoving it into his jacket. “Expect a visit from T-money in the next few days.”

“Is that your url?” It's horrid enough that she's cringing with secondhand embarrassment.

Her assumption only gets her an eye roll. “Nah. I just figured that if 'Uncle Theon' didn't fly, then neither would referring to myself as 'Big Daddy'.”

“But T-money seemed more acceptable?”

“It's what my buddies call me. It all started this one time I was dared to act like a stripper at a bar. I had tons of chicks- and some dudes- sticking their easily-earned stags in my smalls.”

“That I can believe.” She deadpans.

Theon has a wicked grin on his face even as he drains the last of his beer before grabbing his keys and standing up. “C'mon, sweet cheeks, let's get you to the station. I have the depths of a blog to plunder.”