#Jonsa fluff

[welldonebeca]

The Finger Situation

Summary: Jon catches Sansa masturbating and gives her a hand. Pairing: Jonsa Warnings: Porn watch. Masturbation. Dirty talk. Smut. 

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Keeping Up With the Targaryens - Masterlist 

Sansa pulled the curtains of the little guest room she'd been stored in.

Robb was out with his girlfriend, Jon was off with Theon and she finally - finally - had their house to herself.

After the Joffrey mess and the stress of trying to get into UNI, she deserved this break.

Their home was always so busy, she never had a single moment to herself! Everyone was always all around, the walls were paper thin, and maybe father was the only one in her family who actively respected a closed door.

Coming to stay with them for a few weeks was bliss.

It wasn't all easy - she still had to deal with Jon, which was pretty much like having Arya - but being with the boys meant she had a little bit of freedom.

Still, Robb wasn't living alone, but with his best friends, Jon and Theon. A pair of pricks who were always all around her house growing up.

Theon was pretty crude, although he tried to be respectable when her parents were around and teased Sansa a bit less when she threatened to tattle on him. But Jon was different.

He was Robb’s best friend since, like… forever,

He was too hot for his own good, and an emo prick.

Well... not emo.

But he always wore black and always looked like he was sulking on some bad feeling no one could see, all pouty.

It was way worse when they were younger. Jon was always a loner - especially in contrast with Sansa, who was prom queen twice! - but he had grown out of his awkwardness, and was...

Nice.

Charming.

And he knew it, he fucking had to know.

Jon would walk around without his shirt, have his hair all pretty around his face and pout when she was looking at him, all fucking stupid!

So maybe she had an itsy bitsy tiny little small crush on him.

And what was the big deal?

As long as he didn't know it was alright.

All Sansa had to do was get it out of her system!

And now she finally had time and the house for herself.

Back home, getting off really was always the same thing. A little clit rubbing, a few open bookmarks, a pillow on her mouth to muffle any sound, and that was it.

But she wasn't home. And she was all alone.

Sansa sat on her bed all naked and pulled up a video on how to actually do it right.

Get herself off, of course.

It wasn't like she could have a toy for herself or anything, it was just herself. And now was the best moment to do it, because when else would she have the chance?

The video was simple enough. A woman with her legs all spread, her bald pussy in full view, but instead of her own hand, it was another. Bigger. Veinier.

A man's hand.

Well... she could still follow along.

So, she placed the phone on the desk by the side of her bed, and then lied down, turning her head to the side to watch it.

"First, you spread her," the man hummed, voice deep and slow with a very distant accent to it. "You see how my sweet girl is all wet? Glistening?"

Sansa nodded. Yes, she was very wet.

"She gets like this when I kiss her silly," he purred, sounding proud. "And I've made it very special today because she wanted to be part of this little tutorial so badly."

The woman giggled.

"Now, you must know," he continued. "You have to be sweet with your girl. Kiss her and play with her... I pinch and play with her nipples to make her like this... of course, you can always do this..."

He moved his fingers to her cunt, spreading her folds, touching her around her clit and then on it, rubbing it slowly, and Sansa followed obediently.

"This will always, always make her all wet," he affirmed. "Every girl... well, everyone with a clit, but let's focus our language here. Every girl has a sensitive clit, but you have to touch it the way they like it. Some feel a little more sensitive on a special side, some can't have direct stimulation... my sweet girl here can't cum if I play with the left side because it's not sensitive enough. It's the perfect edging partner."

To prove it, he moved his finger to circle just the said side of her clit, and the girl squirmed.

"See how she drools?" he hummed. "You want her very, very wet, very sloppy."

Sansa squirmed.

Sloppy. Stupid word.

Stupid word that made her all stupid wet.

"Once she is like this, and only once she is like this, you can put your finger in," he instructed. "Slowly, very gently. Let her relax and accept it."

Sansa moved around to get her finger in, and huffed at the stretch.

Oh, no one told her that fingering herself was an ab workout!

Maybe that was why the girl wasn't touching herself on camera. She would have to be very bendy to look sexy while doing it.

Still, Sansa tried her best, and if felt better than she thought it would.

It did. It really did.

Her finger was touching some place she really hadn't touched before - even when she had actually tried a while ago.

It was new, it was good, and it was hard to do.

"Now pull slowly," the man commanded. "And push... fuck her slowly, give her time."

She complied and whined in pleasure at the same time the woman let out a very little sound.

"You'll know she is enjoying it when you feel her cunt fluttering your finger... my pretty girl here will moan sweetly, but some girls are shy. You really need to coax the moans out of their lips."

Sansa wasn't shy. Well, she was, but she was home alone, and it felt so stupidly good, she wasn't even caring about being quiet.

"Don't give her more than she can fit," he instructed. "Especially if she hasn't taken any cock before."

Sansa squirmed.

"Sweet little virgins need time," he cooed.

Suddenly, her door opened.

"Sansa, are you-"

"Oh my God!" she screamed, reaching for the sheets.

Jon stopped, frozen by the door.

"Get out!" she screamed, trying to cover herself up.

He didn't fucking move.

She was going to die. That was it.

Sansa was going to die by embarrassment.

The woman moaned randomly from her phone, and she felt her whole face and neck just burning deeply.

"Curl your fingers," the man instructed. "Just like that, good girl."

She pulled the sheets up, covering her face with the thick covers.

"Sansa," he spoke slowly.

The sounds of the video stopped.

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost accusatory.

“None of your business!” she screeched.

This was just like one of their arguments back home. So childish!

"Sansa..." he stepped closer.

She covered her head, not wanting to be seen.

"Can you just leave?" she begged. "And put my phone now. Please."

She wasn't in the mood nor had the patience to fight with him now.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

Sansa didn't answer, and she could see him sitting on her bed.

"How to finger a pussy," he read the title. "By... dragonrider?"

She whined, closing her eyes.

"Jon, please," she begged. "Just let that go."

Great, now he was going to rub that on her face.

He moved, but instead of leaving her, he closed her door and walked back to her bed, sitting down.

"Don't you know how to finger yourself?" he asked, voice too casual for the question he was asking her.

She covered her face with a hand.

"Jon..."

"I'm just asking," he shrugged. "You're 18 now."

"I've never done that before!" she huffed. "I'm not like Theon."

He didn't move.

"So you're a virgin?"

"No," she stomped her foot. "I dated, remember? Harry? I started dating before you even had a girlfriend!"

Jon scoffed sounding.

"So you had a boyfriend, and he never fingered you?" he asked. "He must not have been good enough, then. I fingered Ygritte good before I even knew what I was doing."

She rolled her eyes.

"I make her cum," he told her. "I did all the time. Did your sweet Harry do that for you?"

Sansa just pouted, uncovering her head to glare at him.

"Haha," she rolled her eyes. "Is that all you meant to do? Rub it on my face how you could make your girlfriend cum and how I have to get myself off if I want it?"

He shrugged, and she crossed her arms.

"We didn't... do that," she huffed. "Just so you know."

Jon looked at her, unaffected by her state.

"So you are still a virgin?" he asked.

She looked away from him, burning red, and just wanted to yell at him, but Jon shrugged, very comfortable on her bed.

"I'm not making fun of you," he assured her. "But you shouldn't learn how to pleasure yourself with porn. That's doomed to fail."

Sansa rolled her eyes.

"I know how to pleasure myself!" she argued. "I just... I didn't know how to finger myself. It's different."

Jon looked back at her and sighed.

Shamelessly, he tapped on the bed with his hand.

"Come here," he instructed her. "You're not gonna learn from a video."

Sansa eyed him suspiciously, but walked to the bed anyway, holding her sheets close to her body before sitting down by his side.

"Well, what do you suggest?" she pouted. "That I read an article?"

He straight up chuckled, and then looked at her, licking his lips, and his eyes were tainted with something more.

"You need a teacher to help you. Show you," he said simply, leaning closer to her. "I could be your teacher."

Her whole face burned, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Jon..."

He leaned closer to her.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

But she shook her head.

"Please," Sansa exhaled. "Don't."

He kissed her, and she was eager to take it and kiss him back, and just let him when he moved his hand to her blanket and pulled it off before pulling her closer by her waist.

She understood now, what it meant, to be kissed silly and made wet and needy.

Harry and Joffrey had never kissed her like that.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Jon moved her, laying her on the back and climbing up and up until her head was on her pillow, and his hand moved slowly to between her legs, caressing her knee and her thigh.

She gasped when he pushed a single finger into her easily. His finger was too thick, almost like two of hers, but he was so delicate it didn't even hurt.

"So warm, Sansa," he whispered, biting her lower lip. "You got yourself all wet, didn't you?"

She nodded, whining a little.

"Poor girl," he cooed. "Never had a boyfriend nice enough to show you how good-"

He curled his finger and she gasped when she felt him brushing against a sensitive pot in her.

"-it can be to have a finger in her cunt."

"Was too scared," she whimpered.

Jon sighed, shaking his head.

"Poor, poor girl," he hummed, kissing her neck.

He moved down slowly, and she gasped when she felt him kissing her chest, licking her nipple before sucking it into his lips, pulling his finger out and pushing it back into her.

"Look at you," he cooed, letting it go. "Those tiny little tits..."

Sansa whined, though arching her chest to him.

Her tits weren't tiny!

They were just a little small.

"Do you think I could suck fit one whole into my mouth?" he looked at her. "Think your little tit can fit all into my lips while I finger your virgin cunt?"

His words, dear Lord...

Suddenly, Jon moved to his statement, spreading his lips, and she gasped when his teeth grazed against the top and bottom of her breast, and she moaned when he sucked it all into his lips.

Sansa arched her hips, and moaned loudly when he slipped a second finger into her.

"Jon," she grabbed his hair, not knowing what to even do with her hands.

His hair was so nice, soft and curly and pretty.

"Sweet little Sansa," he moved back, kissing her skin slowly to her other breast. "Squeezing me sweetly on your cunt."

She arched her hips to him, needy.

"Jon," she moaned.

"Feels good, sweet Sansa?" he licked the underside of her breast. "To have my fingers in your cunt?"

She nodded, ad tried to get closer to his hand when he pulled away slowly, fucking her with his palm far, far away from her.

"Please, Jon," she pleaded. "My clit."

Jon hummed a little.

"I don't know, Sansa," he curled his fingers, tickling her sensitive walls and she moaned. "You only asked me to finger you, and I am fingering you."

She whined, raising her hips, trying to chase him.

"I can't cum like this!" she argued. "Please, Jon."

"You're right," he used a hand to spread her legs more. "You can't, right? It doesn't matter how much I finger your sweet cunt and don't play with your clit, I'll only be edging you."

And he kept fingering her as if he hadn't heard his own words.

"Jon," she protested.

He moved back to look at her, and she could finally see it in his eyes.

"Yes, sweet girl?"

"Please," she pleaded with him. "Please, play with my clit? Please?"

Jon licked his lips.

"And why would I do that?" he teased her, his voice and face mocking her.

Sansa just wanted to smack that smug look out of his face.

"Cause you're good?" she tried to argue. "A good lover?"

He just moved faster, and she could hear the sounds of her cunt taking his fingers, already feeling herself all infected with arousal.

"That is true," he agreed. "But I like being mean to you so, so much."

Jon pulled his fingers again, and she was about to protest when he just grabbed her and manhandled her to lay on her stomach and raise her ass, pushing now what felt like three fingers into her.

"And I think you like it too, don't you, sweet girl," he cooed.

Sansa moaned, half her face smashed on her pillow.

"Fuck, Jon," she yelped.

He fucked her fast, rough and with no mercy.

"Yes, Sansa?" he asked.

He changed the motion of his fingers out of a sudden, and she cried out when he touched something especially sensitive in her.

"Jon!" she screamed.

"Stupid sweet Sansa," he slapped her ass. "Look at your cunt. So sloppy."

Her pussy squeezed around his fingers more.

That word, that stupid word.

She could cum right now. Just a little rub, and she would cum.

"Please," she cried on the bed. "Please, I need to cum, please."

She felt him before she realised he had moved. His tongue on her cunt, around her hole, just taking her wetness.

"Please," she cried, trembling already. "I need- please."

And then, suddenly, he wrapped his lips around her clit, fucking her hard with his fingers and sucking her in a never-ending grasp.

And Sansa came.

Loud, shaking and crying.

"There you go," he hummed, tongue licking her clit softly. "Was this what you needed, Sansa?"

"Yes," she cried.

He continued to move his fingers.

"How do you say, then, sweet girl?" he asked.

Sansa whined into her pillow, sensitive.

"Thank you," she moved her hips. "Thank you, Jon, thank you, thank you."

He pulled his fingers away, and she was about to turn around when his tongue moved a little more daringly, licking her cunt clean, licking and tasting her up hungrily.

Sansa was shaking and moaning, oversensitive and overwhelmed.

Before she could cum again - or beg to cum - the sound of the door opening made her stop, and Jon stopped quickly.

"Guys?" Robb called. "We're home."

She gasped, but Jon moved quicker than she could think.

"We can finish this when we have privacy, sweet girl," he caressed her ass.

He left, and she watched him go, panting.

Oh, they sure would.

. . .

"The Fingers Situation" was posted in my Patreon in the 12th of January. To read its sequel "The TV Show" before anyone else, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I post every day.

. . .

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[wildflower-daydreamer]

Snow on the Beach - a Jonsa story

I’m back from a long writing break and trying to jump back in with a little short story! I may be a little rusty but hopefully I work out those kinks soon. Enjoy my little story inspired by Taylor Swift’s Snow on the Beach and by the crazy weather we’ve been having here this weekend.

Snow on the Beach excerpt:

“It’s so beautiful! Super weird. But so beautiful,” Sansa mused. 

They made their way toward the water, stopping when they reached the end of the hail-covered sand with the waves licking at the edge. Another group of surfers were nearby, their boards discarded as a few were trying to make snowballs to throw at each other while another was attempting a snow angel. Elsewhere, a little girl and her dad were building a very tiny snowman. 

Jon watched Sansa take it all in like it was pure magic to her. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms, warm her and hold her as they basked in their surroundings. A bolt of electricity ran through him when her hand accidentally brushed against the back of his. He glanced her way out of the corner of his eye but she obviously didn’t seem to notice the touch. Instead, Sansa backed away. 

(Read the whole fic on AO3…)

[eruherdiriel]

Not all tears are an evil

Jonsa ficlet Rating: T Universe: Post-canon, bookverse Other: Fluff and a bit of sadness, Jon POV, King Jon

Also on AO3.

“Why are you crying?” Jon asks.

Sansa is standing by the window of their bedchamber, wrapped in a large fur despite the warmth of the room. Outside, the sun has risen on what might be one of the final summer days before autumn. It has been a good season, bountiful and warmer than Jon remembers summer being when he was a boy.

“I am not,” she lies.

The truth is in the thickness of her voice. Jon hadn’t noticed the signs at first, when he opened his eyes to find her gone from their bed and then rolled over to see her by the window. There was no shake of her shoulders or sounds of weeping coming from her, not until she sniffled. That is when he knew.

Tucking his legs up and settling his feet on the floor, Jon reaches for his sleep shirt and pulls it on over his head so he is not entirely bare when he crosses the room. When he reaches his wife, he wraps his arms around her, her back against his chest, and presses his cheek to the side of her head.

He wants to ask again what upset her. She was coy but elated last night, when she told him of the babe, and then eager in their lovemaking when he did not know how else to properly convey his own happiness.

Did he miss some sign of her distress earlier, or did the feeling come after? He wants to ask. 

Instead, he waits.

“I was thinking about how my mother is not here to tell me what it is like,” Sansa says finally. “Having a child, being a mother. And your mother is not here either.”

“There are plenty of women at Winterfell who have had children. And Maester—”

“It’s not the same.”

It is not. He knows it, but he cannot take this reality from her, from both of them.

One of his hands drops lower from where Jon has his arms wrapped around her, and he splays his fingers across her belly, feeling what is not fully there yet.

“I wish they were here,” Sansa says. Fresh tears have sprung from her eyes, and desperation coats her voice. “All of them. Everyone we have lost.”

“As do I,” he murmurs into her hairline.

She twists in his arms until they are facing each other, then presses her forehead to his. She is so close that he can smell the salt of her tears. 

“I feel torn in two. I have you and now this child, but so many we loved are dead. It has been years, but it still hurts, and … those wounds may never heal. Every moment of joy will be tinged with loss, won’t it?”

Yes, he thinks, but Jon wants to say something more, something comforting. “At least it will be a shared grief. You do not have to endure it alone.”

This has happened before, he realizes. The day of their wedding, she had cried as they said their vows beneath the heart tree, and when Jon asked what was wrong, she said they were happy tears. He wonders now if the truth was more complicated, that despite their love for each other, she did not know or trust him well enough to speak the whole truth back then.

“I should be happy,” Sansa insists.

Jon lifts his arms so he can take her head in his hands, then leans back slightly so they may see each other better. “It is not wrong to feel sorrow. Or to feel two things at once.”

His own life has always been full of contradictions, so perhaps he is more accustomed to the feeling than his wife is. Highborn, but a bastard. Loyal to his brother and the Starks, but jealous that Robb was to become Lord of Winterfell and then was raised up as King in the North. And when Jon found out who his parents were, it stole from him Ned Stark as his father and Robb, Arya, Bran, and Rickon as his siblings. But it gave him Sansa as a cousin, then as his love, and finally as his wife.

Two things can be true. Joy and sorrow take flight together.

“You do not find my tears frivolous and weak?”

“Never,” he says, almost too sharply. “They speak to what we have lost. What you survived but did not let steal your tenderheartedness. Whether happy or sad, your tears are your strength, Sansa.”

A small laugh leaves her, then she leans closer and nudges his nose with hers. “You say the most beautiful things sometimes.”

At his look of surprise, she sighs and adds, “You don’t even realize when you are saying something sweet to me, do you?”

Whenever he tries, the words come out wrong, ungainly and inelegant. And while he was attempting to reassure her now, he was not trying to be romantic or sweet, yet that seems to have been what she heard.

“The other day, Arya told me you and I were perfect for each other because we are both romantics.”

Jon scoffs. “She did not.”

It has been three years since they wed, but Arya can still barely look at Jon and Sansa when they are at all affectionate with one another. She keeps a neutral face in public, savvy enough to understand that any derision toward their marriage could be disruptive to Jon’s rule, but as a family, she lets her true feelings be known. It is almost a joke now, and he wonders if that is part of why she keeps up her exaggerated gags, rolled eyes, and disgusted faces.

“She did. And she called us dramatic. The dramatic romantics.”

“That sounds more like her.”

Sansa smiles for a moment, then the edges of her mouth tip down again. “I wish you could have known your mother. She would be so proud of you, Jon. I never meant to suggest that my loss is greater, or that I think about it more.”

“I never thought you did.”

“Whatever we are, whatever we feel, we’ll do it together?”

“Always. Happy, sad, or both,” he promises. “Now come back to bed.”

Her head turns back to the window where the sun stretches over the castle walls, telling the time. “It’s late. We both have much to attend to today, my king.”

“As we do every day. Duty can wait for once, Sansa.”

She looks back at him with a lifted brow. “Can it?”

“Aye.”

Bending at the knee, he scoops one arm under her legs and the other around her back, causing his sweet wife to gasp in surprise. Her hands grab at him, and the fur around her shoulders slips, revealing more of her pale skin.

“Why bother being a bloody king if I cannot decide how to pass my days every once in a while?” Jon says as he carries her to the bed.

“That’s precisely why you are a good king! Sacrifice … being selfless … putting the people’s needs above your own desires.”

He frowns as he sets her on the featherbed. The fur falls all the way open. “A king must bring stability to his realm. Heirs are one part of creating that stability, and you are newly with child, my lady. Ensuring your health and happiness is critical.”

His queen is laid bare before him, but it is her eyes he cannot look away from as he braces himself above her—the deep blue of her irises even more pronounced by the red lines that run through the whites of her eyes, evidence of her earlier tears. “You might even say that it is my duty to the people to spend the day with you.”

She shakes her head and laughs, but when he kisses her, she kisses back, all her protestations gone.

[ansheofthevalley]

In one kiss, you'll know all I haven't said – A Jonsa College-Holidays AU

It's the Holiday Season, and the New Year might bring new chances in love. Since she was fifteen, Sansa Stark has had a crush on her big brother's best friend, Jon Snow. Not even in her wildest dreams did she imagine he would ever see her as more than Robb's little sister. Since he was a teenager, Jon Snow has had feelings for his best friend's little sister, Sansa Stark. He never went after the girl of his dreams because he didn't want to mess up his friendship with Robb, who was like a brother to him. Now, with both of them in college in King's Landing, new shots are begging to be taken. After a tumultuous relationship, Jon is ready to let go of the things holding him back and finally go after who he wants. After a bad relationship left her hesitant when it comes to love, will Sansa let go of her doubts and fears and go after what she desires most? Spending two weeks together with their whole families under one roof will help... Right?

Hurt/Comfort; Fluff

Read here

[jenster21]

Watching Matty on GBBO and he looks like modern rugby Jon Snow somehow and yes of course I'm thinking of a Jonsa GBBO AU, it would be such good fluff

[juuls]

Juulna’s 2021 Multi-Fandom Fanfiction Rec List - Part Six

(Yes, I realize this is a year late, but this year's been a bit nuts. I still hope you enjoy these fics anyway!)

Based only on what I’ve read with my own eyes this year!

Follow me on my journey into what, at times, was…

…actually rather calming! Perhaps you can find some comfort and entertainment, fluff and angst and romance and friendship, smut and a distinct lack of it, space adventures and fantasy and modern adventures, serial killers and good guys, redemption and reconciliation and learning to become someone completely different — there is so much here I read that stuck with me over the past year, and the 2021 Fanfic Reading Challenge ( @fanfic-reading-challenge ) allowed me a new way to keep track of all of my favourites. So props to that event! Definitely participating again (considering I run the event, yeah, that's probably a given lol, but full disclosure).

Without further ado, here were my 2021 fic favourites!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Fandom: GoT/AsoIaF

Jaime/Sansa/Oberyn/Ellaria:

Names in the Snow by OperaPhantom

“It’s a punishment,” most whispered. “Punishment from the Old Gods for betraying them for the Seven.”

A few others disagreed. “A gift from the Old Gods to the eldest Stark daughter,” they said. “Or a gift to the North.”

~~~~~~ Sansa Stark receives the Gods' Gift, the mark that identifies her soulmate, only to find out it's what no one, not even herself, expected it to be. But sometimes, surprises can be sweet.

For the February 2021 Pack Prompt of "unexpected".

Jaimsa:

I'm not a princess (this ain't a fairytale) by K_R_Closson

After Joffrey beheads Ned Stark, and his engagement to Sansa is broken, he decides to host a tournament, with the prize being Sansa's hand in marriage. When Jaime Lannister shows up at the last minute to win it, she's afraid she'll be stuck in King's Landing until Joffrey's cruelty does her in. But Jaime made a promise and, one way or another, Lannisters always pay their debts.

Joberyn:

Bequeathed from Pale Estates by Author376

In a Westeros where Soulmates are bound and Marked by the Gods to bind Houses together and pay blood debts, Lyarra Snow and Oberyn Martell are about to get a shock...

Jonsa

and no net ensnares me by thimbleful

Since Jon left, Sansa has struggled to keep things together and she longs for his return. However, when he does return things only become worse. Jon learns about his parentage and doesn't know how to make sense of anything, how to fix the inevitable mess the reveal will create, or how to protect the people he loves. But at least, after all these years, the pack is finally back together. Then, one day, Sansa disappears. Post season 7 fic.

His Winter Queen by @tm-writes-blog

A rewrite of the show's last seasons and how Jon and Sansa forged a true ruling block to challenge the Dragon Queen and defeat the Night King.

There will still be major character deaths, but some very different choices greatly impact the story.

we are buried in broken dreams by Anonymous

Prompt: Sansa and Jon sleeping together before he goes to Dragonstone and when he comes back he finds out she is pregnant.

A full on s8 fix-it fic at this point.

Like winter we are cruel by @ferrame

Winter has come to Winterfell, Jon expects a war north of the Wall, and Littlefinger is brewing one inside the very castle.

you are my sun, my moon (and all of my stars) by Goodforthesoul

When the white wolf came, the Lord of Winterfell had no choice but to give him his eldest daughter. Eddard Stark had grown up on legends of wolves, on the stories of bargains made by the First Men, on the knowledge of the price that he and his family might one day be forced to pay.  His father had explained the reason their house had taken a wolf as its heraldry and “Winter is Coming” as its motto, a reminder of a promise to honor, a recognition of a debt owed that would need, one day, to be paid. Ned had breathed a sigh of relief when his sister’s twentieth winter arrived and the beast had not. And he had watched the dawn sky for the first signs of the snow that would mark that his daughter, too, might also be spared, might escape the fate that had been handed down by their ancestors. But no man could be so lucky. 

Sansa, too, had been born with the North in her blood, had been raised on the stories of white wolves, had lived her life with the knowledge that one might come for her.

if you try to break me, you will bleed by @dialux

It had been a slash across her chest from a White Walker’s sword that finally ended her life. Sansa’d landed in a puddle of her own blood, and she’d died quickly, quietly.

And then she’d awoken with a gasp, trembling, in a bed that had burned under Theon’s betrayal.

The pursuit of non-bath time happiness by Queenofthebees

After Jon refuses Gendry's ask for Arya's hand, citing the fact Sansa was not yet betrothed, Rickon observes and, with the help of Shaggydog, Ghost and Arya, comes up with a plan to have Jon realise he should court Sansa himself. And if it were to result in Jon being less strict about bath times, that was totally coincidental!

The She-Wolves of Winterfell by @vixleonard

The pack survived. So has the Stark habit of keeping secrets.

Jonsaery:

and in the night, you'll hear me calling by @lesbiancerseilannister

When you met your soulmate, touched them for the first time, you would see everything in all its colorful glory.

Jonsanerys:

Brave, Gentle, Strong by @jonsainthenorth

The Night King is defeated, the battle is ended, the dead heroes are burned, but the song is not yet done.

Now, Dany must grapple with the news of her newfound family and the possibility for the Targaryen line to continue beyond her. . . and beyond her brother’s son. She offer Sansa an impossible choice, one that will destroy the Lady of Winterfell's independence but grant her heart's desire and protect the North in perpetuity. Jon is caught between the two halves of himself, between two Queens, Targaryen and Stark, Fire and Ice, Dragon and Direwolf, honor and dishonor...

Sanberyn, Brandon Stark/Catelyn, minor Rhaelyanna, Jon/Cersei:

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

Sanberynia:

A Winter in Braavos by Silberias

Sansa escapes to Braavos with the Dornish.

Desert Winds Rather Than Mountain Air by Silberias

Catelyn Stark leaves King's Landing telling even her old friend Petyr Baelish that she is taking her daughters back to Winterfell. Instead she takes them, without telling Ned, to Dorne because if anyone will believe a tale of Lannister treachery it will be the Martells of Dorne.

She realizes, as she reaches the gates of Sunspear, that she is really no better than her father was all those years ago.

Clinging To The Wild Things That Raised Us by TheSweetestThing

If the Martells demanded the traitor Sansa Stark’s hand in marriage in return for peace throughout the Seven Kingdoms, then so be it.

For Fear Tonight Is All by Silberias

Tyrion knew, as he gazed up at the dark skinned Martell man that this was perhaps his only chance to spirit Sansa out of King's Landing and away from his father's greedy fingers. Tywin Lannister would have married the girl himself if he felt he could have gotten away with it, and so Tyrion knew his own marriage was no protection to Ned Stark's daughter whatsoever.

"Invite her, demand her, steal her--whatever you choose, Prince Oberyn, choose it soon. Else my lady wife shall break into more pieces than the stars."

a sad tale's best for winter by @branwyn-says

Oberyn and Ellaria visit the finest brothel in Oldtown. One of its most alluring attraction is the harpist, a girl with dyed brown hair.

She's still a maid, the brothel-keep assures them.

in this expected country they know my name by @lesspopped

At the wedding feast, Oberyn and Ellaria are approached by the Master of Whisperers, who begs they indulge him with a discussion of clothing — specifically, Lady Sansa Stark's. Very fine, they all agree...but what a shame, Ellaria tuts, she has lost an amethyst from her hairnet.

So when Joffrey begins to cough, they follow her, and find her in the godswood.

I See The Stars In Your Eyes by @themistressmaster

She feared that she was just like her aunt, a wreath of winter roses bestowed upon her at a tourney.

Sanberynia/Jon:

Dornish Customs by @framboise-fics

Sansa escapes from the Eyrie to Castle Black after being accused of the death of her late husband Harrold Hardyng, arriving just after Jon has been resurrected. The two of them decide to flee South together and after journeying for many moons, they arrive in Sunspear and find sanctuary with Prince Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria Sand.

But neither of them have escaped from their pasts unscathed, and during the sweltering days and long sultry nights of Dorne, tensions boil over in unexpected ways.

Sansa deserves a good man guarding her, an honourable man, and she has put her trust in Jon, who is not an honourable man at all. Perhaps he came back wrong, he thinks sometimes, perhaps this sickness is something the red priestess gave him.

Stansa:

Half of Winter by @manic-intent

Stannis Baratheon has survived wars, sieges, pitched battles and skirmishes and worse, but nothing has made him feel as lost and out of place and unnerved as this very moment.

The little pink infant in the crib sleeps peacefully, wrapped in furs, and her wrists are innocently blank. For an irrational moment, Stannis envies her, then he straightens up and turns away. Winterfell is warm, somehow - some sort of piped system, apparently - and his gloves are tucked into his belt, baring the pale silver script on the underside of his right wrist: Sansa Stark.

Wolf's Blood by @manic-intent

"Ser Davos tells me that my brother Robb has done something rash," Sansa cuts in hurriedly, before Stannis rebukes Davos. "Is that true? He has broken his word to the Freys?"

"Aye, and Lord Walder will not so easily forgive that," Stannis looks over to the Twins where they are marked on the huge table that forms the centerpiece of the Chamber, and behind him, sleek and voluptuous in her sheer red dress, Melisandre smiles with her full, crimson mouth. "Your brother is a gifted commander, but he is still a very young boy. Still," Stannis adds, with a lift of a shoulder, "Older men than he have sundered far more over women. I should know - I was part of the last war that broke out over a woman. Your aunt."

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms by @sarahtheblack

Ned doesn't go to Cersei with a warning. He goes to Dragonstone.

[jonsaslove]

casual friday evening spent writing 10k of fluff for the @jonsa-valentine event 🤭

[norrlands-nonsense]

this was in my drafts so not sure who tagged me, but uh, whoever you were, thanks? sorry I'm the worst at these things.

slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

tagging @chispas-and-broken-bindings @charmtion @loulanorth @agentrouka-blog @kitnjon @thewolvescalledmehome @hoaryoldbitch @j-morgan-fly @jonstarks @jonsa-addict 🦝

[blackholeofprocrastination]

TGIF Party People! Just slapped 10 more entries onto my big “migrate all my tumblr fic to ao3″ project.

This week’s installment includes some historical aus, some angsty marriages/pretend marriages, and of course, a dose of fluff. Lots of jonsa but some other ships too!

Stray Scribblings

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

I posted 1,021 times in 2022

That's 141 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (1%)

1,013 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fromtheboundlesssea

@dedalvs

@wildestheart4ever

@genevievedarcygranger

@greghouse

I tagged 669 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#celiaverse - 151 posts

#a marked queue - 146 posts

#jonsa - 85 posts

#jonsa fic - 82 posts

#house of the dragon - 48 posts

#hotd - 42 posts

#family duty honor - 40 posts

#celia tully - 39 posts

#jaime lannister x oc - 37 posts

#jaime lannister - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#because the targaryens have been preaching that they are different thanks to king jaeharys for like 70 years at this point

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The Marks of Running Ink pt.89

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: If you haven't read chapter 88, you should, I'm updating the last three chapters at once. This is the official ending of The Marks of Running Ink, but a short epilogue comes after with major warnings. Thank you so much for being here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

She was waiting for him outside the cell.

A little, wry smile on her lips as she set her eyes on him.

"Hey, old man," she greeted him.

"I'm your father's age, Tory."

"And I call him old too."

He chuckled and she did too.

"What now?"

She made a gesture for him to follow.

"We go home."

Negan had not been or felt at home in so many years. He'd lost the people he considered home, over and over, but now he was being offered another chance, probably the last one. The summer breeze was kind, fall would come soon enough, considering the color of the leaves.

"There will be rules, Negan, important rules to follow," Victoria told him as they walked. He was in no hurry, and she didn't seem to be in a hurry either. "I have a child."

He stopped, frozen, right in the middle of the street, his feet glued to the dusty asphalt.

"A child?"

Tory looked at him and nodded.

"You said that you and the good doc–"

"She isn't Rhodes' kid," his soulmate interrupted.

He blinked, feeling like a fool as he did, watching Victoria as she looked at him.

"Her name is Ella," his soulmate said. "Ella Henry Jones."

"You gave a girl a boy's name?" He asked, not hating it.

"I thought I would die, you know? No epidurals at the end of the world, Negan. Lots of blood, I was stupidly scared."

He laughed and was finally able to move again.

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#4

The Marks of Running Ink pt. 88

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: I thought I'd never finish this story, but I guess it's time to close this chapter of my writing life. I hope you'll enjoy it. Much love to you, who helped me get here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

The children were running free again.

Tory smiled and sat down on the steps, on the spot that she was wearing down after almost a decade… Even when her Dad was alive, Tory had sat down on the same spot. God, some things never changed.

“Mama!” her eyes turned up from the book she had on her lap. Ella had come up all the way to the bottom of the stairs, her tiny hands were full of tomatoes.

Again.

“Did you raid another garden, Peanut?” she asked, wondering who she’d have to apologize to later in the day or in the morning.

“No, mama, Vera!”

Ah.

“Aunt Vera, Peanut,” she told her daughter, knowing her words would fall in tiny, deaf ears. 

Her daughter nodded with a radiant toothy smile that was eerily similar to her father’s smile, making Tory’s heart ache. Standing up, she set her book down and went to her little girl’s side.

“Should we make some tomato sauce, Peanut?” she asked her little girl, knowing she wouldn’t say no. Tory had been planning on making sauce for a few days now, she had been gathering the jars to boil and the spices to use. She had Carol’s homemade pasta recipe too. 

“Yes!” the tomatoes fell from her hands and Tory sighed. “Are we gonna give some to Luc and Martha?”

“Yeah, Peanut, we will.” Good Lord, she needed to break Ella’s habit of calling the adults by their given names, then again, she didn’t have much interaction with the children in Alexandria, who weren’t many either, despite Vera and Chase moving to Alexandria after the whole Whisperers debacle.

“Come on, Ella, let’s get these tomatoes crushed.” 

At times, Tory missed Gabriel and the sort of camaraderie they had formed when he had lived under her roof. They would never see eye to eye in certain things, but they were friends, even if not the best of friends.

"Mama, are you going to tell me about Papa again?"

She chuckled at her little girl and nodded.

"Of course, Peanut. He was the biggest jerk I ever met."

Her little girl giggled at her words and Tory smiled, knowing she would get that reaction no matter what. Sometimes, Tory dreamed of a different outcome, she dreamed of a different life. She wondered the what ifs of a life where the dead never rose. 

Maybe one day, she would grow out of it.

"That's a bad word, Mama."

"It is, but the word I was thinking about is worse, Ellie."

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

All for you, every time

Joanna Lannister knew things. She liked knowing things, as did all of her siblings, they were like that -according to her father- thanks to their mother. She had certainties and one of them was that she was in love. There was absolutely no way she'd ever reveal such feelings. Absolutely not.

@fromtheboundlesssea

For FDH Week 2022

Prompt: Oct-18—Favourite Ceime Child.

It's technically October 18 since eighteen minutes ago my time. I hope you enjoy it.

There are so many time skips, lol.

5 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

#2

●●Masterlist●●

The Walking Dead

The Marks of Running Ink (AO3)

So it goes

The tiny tomato

Far from my arms: One, Two, Three

The silence around it

The only way that I can be

From the Raise Hell and TMoRI universe: Both sides now

A Song of Ice and Fire

See the full post

5 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I say this with all my love @fromtheboundlesssea

11 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[welldonebeca]

How about a Jonsa burn out anything? Pic set, dabble, etc. Basically these two fools are overworked and exhausted and go on a mini solo trip with all the cuddles and etc? Idk?

We just know that Sansa would be a workaholic, right? She gives her all, she wants to be the best.

. . .

Jon cracked a single eye open at the sound of the phone alarm going off, and squeezed Sansa when she jumped sat on the bed.

“I’m late!” she gasped.

Jon pinned her right down again and then raised himself to his elbow, turning off her alarm, and then wrapped his arms around her waist and put a leg over her hips.

“Jon!” Sansa whined.

He held her closer.

This was their holiday.

It would last four days, it was all the time they had together, because Jon’s week off had started three days before Sansa’s week off, because apparently politics and fashion worked on different schedules.

“What if they need me?” she turned around to look at him, her eyebrows joined in a frown, creating a little winkle right there.

"If you keep that expression much longer, you'll get a permanent tan there," Jon cheekily pointed at her, sparking an adorable pout from Sansa.

Her frown deepened.

“Don’t tease me,” she rolled her eyes.

Jon let out a resigned sound.

Securing his week off had been a walk in the park compared to Sansa's struggles. She worked as an assistant at a high-end clothing line. Their lives often felt a little too much like a scene from "The Devil Wears Prada," complete with ungodly hours. Unfortunately, her much-anticipated time off had been rescheduled three times, effectively slicing their cherished holiday in a half.

“My love, this our holiday,” he reminded her. “I left your work phone home. Turned off.”

Sansa gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief as she sat up.

“Jon!”

He shrugged.

“Oh, and I should have turned off your alarms too," he added, realising it.

His girlfriend tried to squirm away from him, but Jon pulled her closer to him again, holding her in place, looking at her face.

“San,” he spoke softly. “You are exhausted. I’m exhausted.

They were. Their bones would turn into dust if they worked another day straight and didn’t sleep for the next twelve hours, he knew that.

She softened.

"But, Jon, it's my job," she argued, her lower lip jutting out in a slight pout. "What if they really do need me?"

Jon exhaled.

Sansa was good. Really good.

Well, she was his girlfriend, Jon would always say she was good in things, but she was wonderful in what she did. Sansa made her own clothes, her whole wardrobe!

“Then they can wait a week,” he held her hand. “If they value you and your work, then they’ll give you time to recharge and come back. Now, you sleep.”

She exhaled, resting back on the bed and looking at him.

"I'm not sleepy anymore," she admitted with a playful grin.

Jon shook his head, and she turned, laying fully on the bed, and he wrapped himself fully around her, cuddling her close as to protect her from the world.

“Give yourself five minutes,” he murmured, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck. “You’ll see. And after brunch, I’m going to cover you in sunscreen, and we’ll go down to the beach and swim, and not think about work, or fashion, or King’s Landing...”

He took a deep, contented breath. Four days of pure serenity on Driftmark awaited them. Jon glanced at Sansa and couldn't help but smile. There she was, already fast asleep, bringing him peace at last.

Thank the gods.

He closed his eyes, letting himself relax with her and just sleep.

[ethereal-elegance]

Banter,flirting,and teasing ain't just all there is to chemistry because all a good romance really-truly needs is bonding,mutual admiration,mutual respect and mutual trust with natural,meaningful development and progression of significance.Not to mention all those shallow insignificant interactions including cheap unconvincing cliché "tension" like "staring" and 'heavy breathing",excessive unnecessary corny,cheesy,sickening,icky "fluff" filler scenes of no substance but to waste screen time are no match for compelling emotionally intimate interactions and scenes in which the characters are vulnerable revealing the human side of themselves without their masks and armor others rarely have the privilege to see due to duty and propriety,which makes for even more compelling characters individually,not just only to develop a relationship.And fluff is only satisfying when the relationship is well developed and has naturally progressed,not forced and contrived out of thin air for fanservice most didn't ask for.

Crackshippers tend invent moments/what doesn't exist and tend to be biased with their rose-colored glasses, cherry-picking for confirmation bias, confusing a dynamic they love/prefer like the majority with chemistry, etc, but conveniently dismiss canon ships actually having what they deluded themselves into believing their crackship has, using every and any excuse they find under the sun to not be convinced, to justify their opposition. Anyone who says got jonerys had no development or progression is confirming they are just biased or ignorant, against the ships for typical unwarranted, unfounded xyz "reasons". There's only so much actors can do with what they've been given. Directing tricks such as heavy breathing, staring, prolonged eye contact, grinning widely and other common, cheap tactics are often used to overcompensate for mediocre chemistry between actors. Writing and dialogue can also make it seem like there's chemistry when there's none. But bad writing, poor written dynamics, bad dialogue, bad directing, and bad editing can also dampen the chemistry they have.

It makes sense Jon "Brooding" Snow would be apprehensive, reluctant and hesitate to become close Daenerys any more than necessary because of what Aerys did to Brandon who provoked the traumatised king and Rickard who tried to save his son. So Jon relationship with Daenerys is practically forbidden. Jon is the type to suppress any feelings that could affect his dedication to his duty. Even he tells Ser Davos there's no time for this after Davos notes Jon's attraction to Daenerys "I saw you looking at her good heart" when Jon said he thinks Daenerys has a good heart after she apologized for her father's atrocities inflicted on his grandfather and uncle.

Jonsa crackshippers who conveniently dismiss the obvious fact that Jon had to fill in Ned's and Robb's shoes out of duty to family and platonic love for them as the eldest of House Stark in favor of conflating their bias towards crackship jonsa is often overlooked. With the imminent threat of the undead army looming over their heads and the possibility of losing lives, Jon seemingly needed to prevent the tragedy and pain if he were to fall in love with Dany and one or both of them were fall in the war. And it doesn't help that Jon was so desperate for acceptance and approval from the North to prove he's worthy of being their king to compensate for his bastardy.

It's strange how antis and detractors of jonerys overlook Jon being younger and less experienced when he was with Ygritte, not to mention the fact that Jon and Dany are canonically dutiful and basically workaholics. There was never any flirting or banter between Daenerys and Khal Drogo, and Ygritte was the only one "flirting/bantering" by belittling, demeaning, and insulting Jon who was always serious and brooding never once really reciprocated especially in that regard anyway. (There's even speculation in the books that jonerys would flirt using taxes.) Those were simpler times compared to S7 when winter was near, so Jon was understandably more broody and pensive + irritable, apprehensive, weary and burdened by the potential impending doom. I suppose Jon's relationship with Ygritte is like how Drogo was Dany's first love despite the complicated abusive power imbalance and Stockholm Syndrome, considering Ygritte canonically coerces Jon who is forced to bed her to survive.

More affection, intimacy, flirting, and banter (mainly from Jon/on his side) could've been incorporated into their relationship if there was enough time allocated in that type of show the opposite of Bridgeton, but people would still complain and criticize with double standards regardless about how it's supposedly out of character and out of place in the context of GoT (as if the entirety of GoT and characters were OOC from the beginning that there are different stories with different versions of the characters who aren't really themselves) due to their bias like they did with the dragon flight and waterfall scene in the North during S8. They would've damned the pairing either way as done with Dany regularly and likely supported their desired crackships in the same place because antis tend to hate Dany for having all of what they covet for their favs.

Kit and Emilia have chemistry in real life, behind the scenes, in interviews and even in photoshoots of both their characters and themselves where it was so palpable even long before Jon and Dany met. Even Kit said "as my best friend, I think she's extraordinary", and Emilia said Kit was like putting on your favorite jacket. People even call them platonic soulmates besides Emilia and Jason. Both have explained they quickly became close friends before GoT even premiered. They were hanging out ever since throughout the show, and they finally got to act in some scenes together as they explicitly made clear they wanted. So how could they not have chemistry? It just didn't translate well on-screen because they so called tools, much to be desired dialogue from a script with some of the right ideas but could've been written and executed better likely with clever directing, the actors were given to work with didn't support it.

And for how ever much flack some give to Emilia's acting, she was definitely a better actor than Kit who's acting was unconvincing to them. Emilia carried most of their scenes. Emilia is friends with his girl Rose Leslie (Ygritte) who Emilia was also seen spending time with alongside Kit, and both said it was weird acting like that and kissing each other likely because their friendship and relationship with Rose. So it's understandable if they felt uncomfortable from those intimate interactions. This situation reminds me of Paul Wesley and Candice King in TVD who had chemistry as friends but not really as romantic partners because Paul said it was weird doing those scenes with his best friend's wife.

I’m still kind of boggled when people say Jon and Dany had no chemistry.  Like, yeah, their entire story was rushed as hell, and their chemistry could have been better.  But to say there was no chemistry I don’t understand.  People often compare them to Jon and Ygritte but I don’t feel that’s a very fair comparison, for several reasons (those earlier seasons are the show’s best, there’s no time compression, all Martin’s material to work with, K and R being a thing irl, I mean come on yes there’s a difference in chemistry).

I will say Jon and Dany’s chemistry took a dive in S8, but everyone’s entire characterizations took dives.  The only character (that anyone cared about) who managed to have any consistency was Theon.  That’s it.  Everyone else’s characters took hits, but none moreso than Jon and Dany themselves.   Even individually their characters were off-kilter.

It just bothers me when people nitpick at Jon and Dany’s relationship itself, rather than blame the real issue, that being the compressed time and the writing.  Then they go dragging out the show’s earlier seasons, pointing out how those relationships were better.  Of course they were, everything was better back then.  It’s like pulling out a cold hamburger from last week, and pointing out how much better the burger was a week ago when it was fresh.  Jfc.

[ebony-bird]

'Make me your Aphrodite, make me your one and only' A view of the King and Queen of the North, their marriage, love and connection … always / ONESHOT, Jonsa

[annawoodhull]

Heart in Hand (A Jonsa Family Drabble)

Jon could never forget the words Benjen Stark had spoken to him, when he had first expressed his desire to take the black. 

“Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up.” His younger self insisted he didn’t care about that, but his uncle knew better. “You might, if you knew what it meant. If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.”

It wasn’t until Jon married Sansa did he begin to learn. It wasn’t until his eyes first landed on their newborn daughter did he know.

(Gif not mine!)

Word count: 1338

Dedicated to @maddiethefashionista​ for all of the brainstorming ideas and for the name Calla Lily. I love it and you!

Fighting. That’s what his life had always been. Fighting and surviving. He hadn’t lied to Sansa when he’d told her he was sick of fighting. He’d been tired than, weary to the bone. He had just come back from the dead, after dying for a cause he’d sworn an oath to serve his brothers. In his mind, he had carried out his term, had served his duty, and had felt no guilt when passing on the cloak to Eddison. His watch had ended.

Jon could never quite forget the words Benjen Stark had said to him, when he had first expressed his desire to take the black. “Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up.” His younger self insisted he didn’t care about that, but his uncle knew better. “You might, if you knew what it meant. If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.”

It wasn’t until Jon married Sansa did he begin to learn. It wasn’t until his eyes first landed on their newborn daughter did he know.

“She has your hair,” Sansa murmured, unable to look away from their young daughter, much like himself. Those dark wisps of chocolate grew darker by the hour, contrasting starkly against her porcelain skin. He yearned to reach out and touch her but did not want to disturb her as their daughter was curled up comfortably in her mother’s arms.

Her name was Calla Lily Stark, a child of the spring, though the North deeply ran through her veins. She was so incredibly tiny, a tiny bundle of pink perfection. He hardly knew what to do with himself, so overcome with emotion the moment he saw her. He felt Sansa’s warm, happy gaze on him, and her returned it before his gaze was drawn back to the little human in her arms, his expression wondrous.

Suddenly, Lily wrinkled her nose in her sleep and stirred. The new parents held their breath, waiting until the movement subsided. She turned her face against Sansa’s breast and released a small huffing exhale that filled Jon with overwhelming affectionate.

“She’s perfect,” he murmured hoarsely. “And she’s all ours.”

“I loved her before I even knew her,” Sansa admitted, gently stroking her hair. “Does that make any sense? How is that possible?”

“It does,” he said. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself into the bed beside her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders gently. “Are you well?”

She nodded and gave him a tired smile. “Tired, and more than a bit sore, but I’ll be fine.” She turned her attention back to Lily as she continued to stroke her cheek. “She was worth it all.”

Sansa had given him quite a scare when she had first gone into labor. He hadn’t been with her when it happened, which still upset him several hours later. He had been overseeing the progress of the new schools being established in Winterfell when a young maiden, pale faced and breathless, had run to him to tell him the news. After everything he had faced in his life, including going up against the Night King, he couldn’t think of anything that came close to the fear he had felt, fear for his wife’s safety, for welfare of their child.

In the end, the midwife had taken care of both mother and child safely. He hadn’t left since.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked him, knowing him all too well.

Jon hesitated. “I don’t want to wake her.” Then he smiled at the obvious reluctance on his wife’s face. “And it’s apparent you don’t want to give her up.”

Sansa smiled sheepishly. “You’re right. But she is your daughter, too. You should hold her, when she wakes.”

Lily’s little fists were curled against her lap, twitching ever so lightly. Jon wondered what she was dreaming of, what she was thinking of. Unable to help himself, he reached down and gently touched her hand with a finger, marveling at the contrast in size. The twitching stopped immediately, and briefly, Jon panicked, his gaze locking onto her face.

Lily’s eyelids fluttered open after a few slow, sleepy blinks. She looked at her mother then slowly towards him. Their gazes held. Suddenly her tiny fist opened and his finger was enveloping in her tiny hand. His heart squeezed the moment her fist squeezed his finger. And just like that she had him, right where she wanted him. She had his heart in her hand. There was no fighting it, a fight he had no intention of engaging.

Jon inhaled sharply, his throat tightening with emotion. Sansa pressed a hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing his face. It wasn’t until she touched him did he realize he’d begun to cry.

There was nothing in this world that could make Jon walk away from this, nothing short of the gods’ intervention themselves. He would die a thousand deaths to protect the woman that he loved and their daughter. As much as he loved Ned Stark as a father, he remembered all too distinctly what it was like to grow up on the outside and never quite fitting in. He’d felt the shame of being a bastard, remembered Catelyn’s scorn, the treatment he’d received, yet he still knew he’d had it better than most. Still, the hurt and pain that came from the label bastard still haunted him, even though he had never truly been one.

“You are our heart, littlest wolf,” he murmured, watching as Lily tugged his finger closer to her chest. “You are here, and you are loved. You’ll want for nothing. No harm will ever come to you. You have my word, as your father.”

And then Lily smiled, her expressive eyes crinkling in the corners. Gods, she was already a heart breaker and only hours old yet.

Sansa kissed his cheek, and when she withdrew, he saw she was crying as well, tears of joy and love. “You’ll be a wonderful father,” she assured him. “As you are already a wonderful husband. I couldn’t ask for a better life.”

Jon closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the gods. He hoped he would be. And with Sansa at his side, he hoped they would raise a large family together.

Turning to Sansa, he murmured reverently, “You are a blessing, Sansa, and you have given me the most wonderful…” Swallowing, he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Tilting her face, Sansa pressed her mouth to his, her lips softly gliding over his. It didn’t last long as a soft mewl from the bundle in her arms drew their attention.

Lily squeezed his finger again, looking up at him almost expectantly. Sansa laughed quietly, understanding her daughter’s intention. “All right, little one. You want to meet your father.” Shifting Lily’s weight carefully, she waited until Jon was ready and slowly passed her to him.

Jon’s arms were filled with a small weight of warmth. Lily refused to relinquish his finger and continued to reassert her claim to it, squeezing and releasing at random.

He lowered his face towards her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, holding her close. After a few moments of uninhibited wonder, he looked at Sansa. “You should get some rest. I’ve got her.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, even as she yawned. She was resting her head against Jon’s shoulder, watching him watch their daughter and back again.

“I’m sure,” he said and smiled. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Sansa kissed his shoulder and shifted on the bed, wincing a little at the moving of sore muscles. Sleep didn’t take long to claim her. With his wife sleeping soundly beside him, Jon held their baby girl in his arms. “I trust you’ll return my finger at some point,” he asked amusedly.

Lily gave no indication of a response, apart from giving his finger another squeeze.

[crimsoncold]

In a damn near miraculous turn of events the single remaining Canadian team has made it to the NHL stanley cup finals this year (Go Oilers!).

So in celebration of the Oilers making it this far I was rereading some incredible Jonsa Hockey AUs- as one does- which in turn inspired me to complete my first (and currently only) modern au jonsa fanart...

These fanfics, on the whole, are a beautiful blend of angst and fluff, are wonderfully character driven, with a small helping of professional hockey player Jon (and sometimes Figure Skater Sansa) to top things off - so they are extremely enjoyable whether one is a die-hard hockey fan or not.

So once again I'm including a recommendation list below to credit the authors/Jonsa hockey fics that inspired me to make the art piece above- check them out I promise you won't be disappointed!

Works by @kingsansa

pinky promise 

If things felt fragile with him before, things are shattered beyond repair now. The glass is in her throat, threatening to suffocate her and shred it to ribbons. Her voice quavers when she speaks. “We need to talk.”

His jaw clenches right before he looks at her, as if he’s steeling himself for it. “What am I even supposed to say to you?”

And on the inside, she is collapsing, caving in. Sansa feels like she can’t breathe. She knows she deserves it, and more.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Her eyes are blurry, and she does her best to blink it away. “Just listen.”

Illegally Yours 

When his mouth leaves hers, her lips feel cold. And then it all comes rushing back to her—her common sense, everything that had happened the day before, and the sole, unchangeable fact that up until two days ago, this man had been her boss. And there’s also the fact that before that, he had been her worst enemy.

She swears, she swears to god that he looks at her mouth before he looks into her eyes again, and the nod he gives her is minute, barely there, before he turns back to the man in the corner, who had gotten a free show. But Sansa can’t find it in herself to care. Jon’s hand is on her back again.

“Mr. Thorne, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Sansa Stark.”

g.u.y 

Sansa is 15 years old, watching the Oilers game in the living room with the rest of her family, when her brother punches Jon Targaryen in the face.

Works by @woodswit

not the marrying kind 

All Sansa has to do is avoid Jon Snow, Sam's best man, for long enough to see Gilly safely down the aisle at Horn Hill. How hard could it be? She's only staying for a few of the events, and besides, he's a world-famous hockey player, the centre and captain of the Direwolves--he's bound to be too busy to even notice that she's there at all.

It's all going according to her meticulous plans until Gilly's maid of honor bails, and Sansa has no choice but to step in.

uptown funk 

Just get famous hockey player Jon Snow's attention, and find out who he's dating. Sansa, covering for Myranda, tells herself she can do that. She can get Jon Snow's attention, no problem!

(Myranda probably didn't mean she should do it via throwing her Manolo at his head.)

- Crimson Cold

Jonsa Modern Hockey AU by @crimsoncold

[a-clarice-dream]

Jonsa Drabble Week Day 3

Day 3 of Jonsa Drabble Week hosted by the lovely @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles

Prompt: Wishes or Traditions 

Note: This drabble is set in the AU of Two Guarded Hearts. Feel free to read that first but it is not essential.

This drabble is in a series/collection - read the previous installations A Hazy Dazy Sunday (1) and The Princess Thing (2).

A Wish Upon A Star 

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, awakening Jon later than he would normally rise. His bed sagged with the weight of another person taking a seat.

“Good morning, sleepy,” Sansa started, brushing the fallen curls from Jon’s forehead.

“Not that I am displeased to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t…” Jon responded with a smile. Sansa cut off his words with an ardent kiss.

Sansa broke off the kiss, reseating herself and Jon sitting up. Jon noted her more formal attire.

“I came here to give you this,” Sansa stated, bringing forth a midnight blue suit in a garment bag, with matching white dress shirt, grey pocket square, silver cufflinks and black dress shoes.

Jon opened the bag and checked the sizing, mouth fallen wide open. 

“How did you get the sizing…?” He asked, a mix of shock and surprise washing over his features.

“I may have spoken to Lyanna and then gotten Theon to organise it…” Sansa answered coyly, moving her gaze downwards.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” Jon stated, lifting Sansa’s gaze, tilting her chin higher.

“Yes, I did,” Sansa quipped back with a small smile.

“Do not mistake me, I am infinitely thankful, but you absolutely did not. You extended the invitation to me, drove me up here and arranged for me to stay so I would not be in the slightest bit inconvenienced. You’ve done everything and more for me to be here,” Jon pronounced, gazing lovingly into Sansa’s eyes.

“I didn’t want you to spend lots of money on something which may or may not have been appropriate for the ball tonight and this just takes the stress out of the small amount of time we have together here as it is,” Sansa replied, adoringly. 

“I will pay you or whomever back for whatever was purchased for me,” Jon stated, with slight indignation. 

“I will not permit such a thing!” Sansa responded, bringing her face closer to Jon’s. 

“We’ll see about that,” Jon answered, placing a kiss on the small amount of Sansa’s neck not covered by her dress.

“I am your crown princess and heir to The North and command you to accept this as a gracious gift.” Sansa replied, whispering into Jon’s ear sensually. 

Jon blushed furiously, gathering more of the blankets from the bed into his lap. Sansa grinned with a glint in her eyes. 

“Before I go and help with the ball preparations, I just wanted to clarify for tonight that while you can’t escort me into the ball and you might not be seated next to me at dinner, I will do my best to be with you as much as possible and you will certainly be introduced to my parents tonight by me,” Sansa said, holding Jon’s hands tenderly. 

“I understand.” Jon answered, pressing a kiss to Sansa’s forehead.

“Theon will be by with the tailor in 45 minutes or so to sort out any last minute alterations to your suit for tonight and Jeyne said she and Arya would give you a quick crash course into the simple dances that may be done tonight if you wish to partake at all,” Sansa stated, getting up from the bed gracefully.

“Thank you, for everything,” Jon replied, his eyes beaming with a smile wider than his lips could express. 

“I will see you later,” Sansa said, before leaving Jon’s room swiftly. 

Jon’s greatest wishes of having Sansa as his were becoming a tangible thing; something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite reach yet but was certain to grab with time. A wish upon a star finally within reach.

Now it is no longer just The Princess thing, for tonight you must be A Prince.

                                                         ∞∞∞

Sansa stood behind the heavy doors to the ballroom, nervously smoothing down her dark grey a-line gown and tugging slightly on the lace sleeves. She ran her hand around her tiara, checking for any supporting pins that may have loosened or gone astray. She had already peeked into the ballroom and spotted Jon. He looked more handsome than she could ever have imagined; like a true prince that she had always wished for. 

“You look perfect, I’m sure he’ll love you as will everyone else,” Jeyne started, comforting Sansa’s slightly frayed nerves. 

She had never felt this nervous before a ball this small, practically only family and friends, but nevertheless, the prospect of introducing Jon to her parents was still mildly terrifying.

The doors opened and she stepped forward, announced as Her Royal Highness Princess Sansa, Crown Princess of the North.

Her practice at such a role kicked in and she entered the ballroom gracefully with a dutiful smile on her face, curtsying to her parents before joining Jon. She hoped dearly with her entire being that her wishes would be granted.

Seeing Sansa dressed up for the occasion took Jon’s breath away more than usual when he saw her. She glided towards him effortlessly. 

“You look perfectly dressed for tonight, Mr Snow,” Sansa whispered into his ear discreetly. 

“And you, Your Royal Highness, look more ravishing than aught to be possible.” Jon quipped back with a sly smile. Sansa grinned widely, holding back much laughter.

Sansa spied her parents approaching and quickly straightened her and Jon out in an appropriate manner.

“Mother and Father, this is my boyfriend, Jon Snow,” Sansa began with timidness, wearing a smile as she inwardly trembled. Jon bowed to her parents.

“Lovely to meet you Jon,” Catelyn replied, offering her hand in greeting with a smile.

“Nice to meet you Jon. You wouldn’t happen to be Lyanna Snow’s son, who runs Direwolf?” Ned asked cautiously, shaking his hand.

“I am indeed her son,” Jon answered proudly, a small smile dancing on his lips.

“Then I know your mother! I went to school with her many years back. We were friends back in the day.” Ned responded with a warm smile.

Sansa silently breathed a sigh of relief, zoning out of the chatty banter between Jon and her parents that was gladly smooth and comfortable. Her wishes had been answered.