#and drawing ned sometimes

[kickedin17]

Woe, random collection of art and doodles I don't think I've ever posted on here be upon ye~ (clancy and torchy chibi heads are actually buttons but I don't have a good picture of them in button form atm)

[very-tired-child]

4koma

[greywoe]

child ward in search of belonging indulges in juvenile fantasies as a coping mechanism. sad!

[rasin-c00ldude]

we so back

icp fanart... evil emoji. ive also never drawn dogs so they jus look like big cats...:3c

bonus simpsons doodles under cuttt xp

drew these like atleast a week ago. dont care 4 some of them but ya

[capn-twitchery]

Winterberry - Use one or more photos that encapsulates your OC's clothing style pulling out my uno reverse card

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER

one for twitch:

and one for grace!!

you can tell their clothes apart bc twitch wears fancy looking clothes, but wears them like they don't care

grace, on the other hand, wears plain clothes,,,but like he's much more put together & fancier than he really is

flowery oc asks

[nonbinaryned]

HANG ON

this exact scene made it into the final episode except. EXCEPT

UR TELLING ME THIS WAS WHAT DOLL!NED WAS ORIGINALLY GONNA LOOK LIKE???

idk if they thought it’d be too weird or too hard to animate but i kinda wish it didnt get scrapped. crazy-ass design /pos

its so cool that some of the storyboards from this show have been preserved, i assumed that it’d all be lost media

Disney Nightmare Ned’s (1997) Storyboard drawing by Eddie Fitzgerald

[erinwantstowrite]

Please yap more about the Psych AU! I just started watching season 7!! Also, who is your favorite character from Psych?

Hmmm well i don't wanna spoil too much... So i guess i'll yap about some general premise stuff?

I should clarify that LoF peter and Psych peter are pretty different backstory wise. I kept the sameish design because i just like drawing peter, but they have some variations between them. Like: uncle ben died, aunt may didn't. she actually gets transported with peter to this alt universe, so she's very involved in this au. i just haven't drawn her yet.

I also chose harry osborn instead of ned because i didn't want every au to be the same. I would have loved writing ned in this au, but he gets a lot of chance to shine in LoF. harry is in more spider-man iterations as peter's best friend and i feel like he fit that shawn and gus dynamic more with peter. (I see them as platonic in most universes.) ((I also see shawn and gus as platonic). in this au, harry and peter met when they were pretty young, sometime after peter's parents died (which would still be when he was around four years old). Norman is a pretty good dad at this time so he helps peter get into a good school so he and harry can have classes together (and also cause he thinks peter deserves a good school too). But harry and norman, over time, end up with a terrible relationship. Mostly caused by Norman slowly slipping into the Green Goblin role. so, he spends a lot of time with the Parkers. After ben's death, harry vows to take care of peter and may both. he ends up being the reason they accidentally find themselves in an alternate universe, but no one is really mad at him about it because May and Peter hit hard times and were about to lose their house, etc. don't want to tell y'all too much because i wanna save it, but that's our basics with backstory and set up

currently, i'm not sure if i want them to start in metropolis and end up in gotham, or start in gotham and end up in metropolis. I kind of lean towards them living in gotham but having a lot of business in metropolis

And by business, i mean that Peter gets into the photography business. He captures photos of all kinds of heroes and vigilantes, and sells them to newspapers for the highest pay. As Peter becomes more sure of his spider powers, he also becomes spider-man but with way more of a journalist vibe. I want him catching crooks in the act and exposing them with the pictures, becoming a mysterious freelance writer/photographer as well as vigilante. You can imagine how Clark Kent and Lois Lane are going to react lmfao

But then you also have the actual premise of the fic itself: Psych. Peter and Harry are both investigating something when they run into someone (at this point in time, i'm thinking Superboy aka Kon-El), and to get out of saying what the real deal is, he pretends to be psychic. Harry is mortified but he decides to roll with it. So now Peter has to pretend to be psychic, and Harry starts up a whole business about it. That means we're getting both of these businesses at once, which will converge that Bats and the Supers both into the storyline.

Why are they putting all this effort in for money? Well, one reason being duh, they need money in this new world. But mostly because it's gonna help take care of May, and they'll also get to start a new life in this alt universe

Also, my favorite Psych character is Gus. I love him so much, he's so stupid and so smart at the same time. Have you heard about pluto?

[aurumacadicus]

A concept:

Tony has mostly learned not to ask too many questions when he's around teenagers. He doesn't understand most things, and quite frankly, it's just easier to claim ignorance than confusion at this point. (Peter has explained "skibidi" to him three times now and he still doesn't get it.) He just tries to provide a safe place for him and his friends. Sometimes that means he's bewildered, but it's better that way. He figures it's just a rite of passage. He still remembers how flabbergasted Jarvis looked when he described something as 'tubular.'

He's just grateful that there weren't so many cameras when he was a kid. It seems like they're everywhere, and there are so many video trends it makes him tired. Luckily, Peter and his friends seem to at least be aware that the internet is forever, so they're not doing stupid shit like doing drugs or throwing slurs around. Mostly they just post pranks. Most recently, he's pretty sure MJ and Ned duct-taped Peter to a door so he'd startle anyone who opened it. Which seems. Harmless? Whatever.

But his practiced chill all seems to backfire when he walks in on them in his kitchen "because the lighting's better here than in a conference room" with pictures taped to sticks being stuck in cake. "What is this?" he asks tiredly, because he knows it's too late to pretend he didn't see them.

"It's a hear-me-out cake, Mr. Stark," MJ answers in that way of hers that is somehow both flat and mischievous.

Tony blinks at her slowly, trying to figure out what reaction would please her least, then gives up. "Why are you doing it in my house."

"Because I don't want Aunt May to see I've put Doc Hudson from Cars on a hear-me-out cake," Peter answers.

Tony squints at the pictures already on the cake. "You've got a lot of nerve to put a picture of Timothee Chalamet on a cake and say 'hear me out' about it," he finally says.

"It's specifically Timothee Chalamet in Wonka," Ned defends immediately.

"And Doc Hudson is just a good-looking classic car, it's not weird," Tony continues, ignoring him. "I have a Hudson Hornet. I'll take you kids out for a ride when the weather gets better."

MJ holds up one of her pictures while Ned and Peter gape at him wordlessly. "I have Lady Tremaine from Cinderella."

Tony leans closer, putting his hands on his hips and huffing in offense. "You chose a picture of Cate Blanchett instead of the original cartoon. You guys. You can't say 'hear me out' about conventionally attractive people, no matter how mean they are in their roles."

"Oh yeah?" Peter asks defensively. "Then who's your hear-me-out, Mr. Stark?"

"Hexxus from Ferngully," Tony retorts, and then, "At least bring me a piece of cake when you're done." Then he grabs his coffee and heads back for the workshop.

He only realizes what a mistake that might have been when JARVIS tells him that his Twitter is blowing up but he only really understands when he sees that Tim Curry himself has responded to the video Peter posted of him with "The highest of compliments, surely."

"Pepper is going to be so mad at me," Tony breathes when he sees people are already drawing fan art of it.

[amaltheas-garden]

Jon and Sansa will bring the story of Rhaegar and Lyanna full circle:

We have very few details on the relationship between Rhaegar and Lyanna, but what we do know is Lyanna was in an unwanted betrothal to Robert at the time she disappeared with Rhaegar. Whether she went willingly or not is up to speculation. Aside from Robert, most accounts agree that Rhaegar embodied the fairy tale prince-like character (prior to the war). Lyanna wept at the beauty of his music, and was crowned his queen of love and beauty before leaving her family forever. Her story ends alone in Dorne, dying in her bed of blood, abandoned by the man she thought would save her, begging to go home.

It's easy to see then, the parallels between Lyanna's ill-fated romance and the romantic dreams of her niece, Sansa Stark. Although the two share few similarities in personality and hobbies, both became enamored by princes who hide their darker nature, and lured them away from the safety of their homeland, before going to war with their families. However, Lyanna's story ended far from the North, dying in childbirth, whereas Sansa has escaped that fate (even more interesting considering Lyanna's book storyline is a near one to one of Sansa's in the original outline). And, if we recall the very beginning of A Game of Thrones, Robert proposes to Ned that they wed Joffrey to Sansa, joining their houses as he and Lyanna might have. There is a conscious effort on Robert's part to set the past right through the relationships of their children. So right from the jump Sansa is cast as the Lyanna stand in, though she too escapes her "Baratheon" betrothal, and is on course to run straight into Rhaegar's son (as per the girl in grey theory).

So where does Jon lie in all this? If we take the girl in grey prophecy to be about Sansa, we know the two will meet sometime in the near future. Sansa has already become disillusioned of her chivalric ideals of love and knighthood (that's not to say she doesn't believe in heroes and honorable knights, just that she's far more skeptical of surface appearance), and yet, it will be her bastard brother who will embody the traits of the hero Sansa has been searching for. Rhaegar appeared as the perfect prince, yet was the one to kill Jon's mother, and Sansa, in a similar situation, is seduced by the charm and beauty of Prince Joffrey, only to be exposed to his vicious cruelty, narrowly escaping his family (even more interesting to consider Lyanna, had she survived, would not have been Queen, as Elia was still his lawful wife, and would be considered a mistress to the King as there was no chance of her escaping Rhaegar now that she carried his child, similar to Joffrey marrying Margaery, while threatening to make Sansa his mistress). Jon on the other hand is the brooding, solemn, plain-featured bastard, sharing no traditional qualities with that of the typical hero. That is to say, he's about as far from Rhaegar as you could get. And yet, it is Jon who commits himself to defending and protecting those who cannot (Sam, the wildlings, Alys Karstark) because that's who he is. No songs are sung for the men of the Nights Watch, he doesn't gain anything by protecting those others might deem weak, unworthy, or exploitable, but he does it anyway. Jon does not look nor act the part, but the strength of his moral character is what distinguishes him as the unconventional hero of the story.

I would also draw a comparison between the legend of Azor Ahai sacrificing his wife Nissa Nissa and Rhaegar's "sacrifice" of Lyanna, to bring about the third head of the dragon he thought necessary to save the world. After reading @/stormcloudrising's phenomenal metas on Sansa's connection to Nissa Nissa/the Amethyst Empress, I believe the idea of sacrifice will appear again in relation to Jon's character arc. Many in the fandom have speculated that AA/NN and the Bloodstone Emperor/Amethyst Empress are one and the same, the former featuring the sacrifice of a wife, the latter a usurpation of a sister. Sansa already occupies the (false) position as Jon's sister, while Jon has refused to usurp her rights as heir to Winterfell. However, with Jon's parentage reveal, the opportunity of a Jon/Sansa romance becomes possible, potentially elevating her to the status of love interest. And, if we're going with the NN/AE are the same theory, it would mean she occupied the role of both sister and wife. As for Rhaegar, his prophecy obsession is what led to him endangering Lyanna, placing his need for the third dragon above her own safety, ultimately killing her. Jon spends a good chunk of ADwD with Stannis, a claimant to the title of AA/the Prince that was Promised, who similarly struggles with the question of sacrificing one life to save the world, "What is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?” (ASoS) To which we already know the answer, Everything. Stannis, like Rhaegar, will fail the moment he sacrifices Shireen to fulfill his "greater purpose". Daenerys is also a claimant to the title, and we will likely see a contrast between how she and Jon approach being Rhaegar's heirs and inheritors of the prophecy. Stannis will lose everything after Shireen's death, the same as Rhaegar when he left Lyanna to die, condemning House Targaryen to death in the ensuing war. Jon will likely face a similar decision of sacrifice upon discovering he could be the subject of prophecy that consumed his father and once honorable king. And just as he refused to usurp Sansa's claim, he will reject the sacrifice of a loved one (lover perhaps?) as prerequisite to fulfilling his role as AA/TPtwP.

Jon's character always comes back to his identity as a Stark. Discovering his true parentage will undoubtedly be a source of inner conflict, culminating in his decision between Stark and Targaryen (spoiler: its Stark). It's a classic case of sins of the father, and how Jon asserts himself as an individual outside of his father's tainted legacy. Jon being the hero to Sansa and helping her return home would effectively resolve the generational conflict caused by Rhaegar's "kidnapping" of Lyanna away from the North. Rhaegar caused immense amounts of pain to the Stark family through his one act of selfish cruelty, which Jon will rectify through one of loyalty and selflessness. And narratively, Lyanna's son being the one to save her niece and return her to Winterfell would just be so chef's kiss.

[thollandneedy]

Bet- Peter Parker

A/n: I discovered i have a thing for men who plays pool...

Warnings: Mentions of sex, make-out, description of sexual thoughts, sexual tension and one swear word

Summary: A boring evening turns into a hot situation when Peter and Y/n decide to play pool together

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Y/n L/N and Peter Parker could be considered inseparable, since they did everything together, whether it was going to school on the subway or even waiting for each other in the bathroom door so as not to miss anything when they were together. As fate would have it, the two of them had been accepted at the same college and attended it together, even though they had different degrees.

On a late Saturday night, a weekend when all the students were exhausted from the week of exams, Peter and Y/n needed a break.

The girl was in the passenger seat, while Peter drove around the university town just to pass the time. They were both enjoying the sound of Tame Impala playing on Peter's playlist, until Y/n hit the car stereo, announcing:

“I'm getting bored” Y/n complaints, turning down the sound.

Peter glances at her briefly, returning his gaze to the street wet from the afternoon's rain.

“What do you want to do?” He asks.

“We can do something that doesn't cost a lot of money. My salary isn't due until next week, and I've got flies coming out of my wallet.” Y/n says.

“If you didn't spend half your money on takeaways and Starbucks, you might be able to afford to go out at the end of the month.” Peter points out, causing the girl wearing a navy blue sweatshirt to grumble.

“I can't cook, Peter! And Starbucks is literally on campus, so it's almost a daily temptation not to stop by.”

“I told you, I'll teach you how to cook so you can spend less money.” The brunette in the light gray sweater says. “Can we go to a bar and drink beer and play pool, maybe?”

“I thought you didn't like beer.” Y/n tilts his head to the side, tucking his hair behind one of his ears.

“I don't.” Peter smiles, drawing a low laugh from the girl. “There's a bar near here, we can go there. You buy the tokens, and I'll get us something to drink or eat.”

“You don't have to pay for our outings, Pete.”

“One large fry and two juices won't affect my salary, babes.” Peter says, turning his eyes to the street as Y/n feels her heart pounding.

It wasn't long ago that Y/n and Peter had a strange sexual tension between them, sometimes making the air seem to get lost in their noses when they were too close. They had never kissed or touched in a sexual way, but there were a few looks they shared that could be considered pure sex. Neither of them had the courage to comment on it, but they both felt the same way. Perhaps it was the fear of losing a friend, or their own shame that stopped them, even though they were very intimate.

“Give me the smaller cue.” Y/n says, leaning his hip on the pool table and pointing to a wooden pedestal containing the cues used for the game.

“You'd better take the bigger one.” Peter comments, placing the chip in the hole in the table, releasing the colored balls that would be used.

“I feel like I'm not accurate with big cues.” Y/n comments, turning to the brunette who is arranging the balls on the green table, walking over to the wooden pedestal, picking up the smaller cue and handing it to the girl.

Peter takes the larger cue, positioning himself in the center of the table. The cue touches the floor, and Peter looks at Y/n, who was busy watching the movement of the university establishment.

“Do you want to go first?” Parker points with his head to the colored balls positioned and the white ball a few centimeters away so that he can hit them.

“You better. We've never played this together.” Y/n gives the pass to the brunette.

“I used to play with Ned sometimes.” Peter holds the base of the bat, switching positions with the girl and positioning the bat towards the cue ball.

“How good are you?” The girl leaned her weight on the bat in her hands.

Peter smiled sideways, his focus on the small ball in front of him, gripping the cue tightly as the muscles in his arm flexed. His chest was flat against the table, moving the thin end of the cue between his index and middle finger, almost pornographically hitting the cue ball hard while all the others positioned in a triangle shape scattered to all sides of the table. One of the balls landed squarely on one of the mouths of the table, making a loud noise.

Y/n watched him without being able to focus on which number he had hit to start the game, as his mind began to fantasize about a million situations that he had never thought of even in secret in his room. Perhaps it was because of the warm lighting in the room, the low music and the increase in libido from the stress of the week, which for some reason tended to increase when she was stressed about something, but that image made her lose herself.

As soon as Peter hit the ball he smiled to himself, saying:

“I think that might answer your question.”

Y/n shakes her head quickly, coming back to the reality of the game. Peter tilted his head to the side, lowering his gaze so that he could understand what his distraction was.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. Super.” The girl smiles.

“My number's even.” He announced, moving to the other side of the table so that he could once again look for the next ball he was going to hit.

One of her curls was delicately trailing down her forehead, while her innocent eyes had turned into heavy, dark ones.

Y/n bit his lower lip, lowering his eyes to his hands, which had their veins marked when they were exposed to the light. Maybe it was wrong to think that about her best friend, but she couldn't get her fantasies out of her head, as if looking at him was a horny magnet. Imagining that those same hands could be holding her neck while he looked at her to kiss her, or thinking about how those strong arms would hold her body while he was on top of her.

Once again the same sound of the ball falling into her mouth is heard by the girl.

“It's a good thing we didn't bet anything, because I'd lose.” Y/n comments as he celebrates the ball hit to him.

“And if we were betting on something, what would it be?” Peter looks at her.

“I-I… I don't know.” The girl feels that for a second her words are lost.

“Are you really all right?” Parker slowly walks towards her with a confused smile.

“Just… you play well.” Y/n says, smiling at the boy who returns the smile, then looks down.

Passing behind the girl, he puts one of his hands on the woman's waist, coming close to her ear and saying:

“Don't be intimidated, darling.” His fingers slide around her waist, letting her go.

Y/n nods, accepting the challenge that had been indirectly imposed by her best friend.

Peter stares at her as he walks towards another move, only to look away to focus on his move, which he misses. The brunette grunts, looking down and then returning to his normal posture.

“Your turn.” He says, gesturing with his arm, a free pass so that Y/n can take her place and finally start her game.

The girl walks over to him, standing next to his warm body as he waits for her to make her move. The girl copied his position, placing the end of the club between her index finger and thumb, throwing her hips backwards as her breasts came close to the table. Peter realizes that your arms are crooked, so he places the club on the table and stands behind you.

His hands are directed towards your arm, placing the palm of his hand on yours, saying:

“Align your arm with your body. It's too far to the side and that will cause the ball to deviate from where you want it to land.”

Y/n takes a deep breath

“You distracting me like that doesn't help me.” She says in an ironic tone, causing him to quickly remove his hands from her in a symbol of surrender.

“Play it then." He says, resting one side of his hip on the table, watching Y/n.

And just as the girl was thinking, Parker's mind didn't leave his thoughts. When he was at school, he didn't consider himself a daring boy to flirt with, but when he entered college, that changed completely, causing the girls on his course to seek him out at parties to exchange numbers. And even with this attention, he only wanted one person. His eyes quickly wandered to Y/n's breasts, which showed through the white tank top she was wearing under her sweatshirt. It was easy to imagine her breasts in his hands, being squeezed with his thumb touching their nipples in a sensual massage, while she moaned his name softly. Or how hot she would look if she were sitting on the table, allowing herself to be touched by Peter's desperate fingers.

Parker took a deep breath, denying his thoughts so that he wouldn't get an erection in the middle of the bar. Focusing on the people around him who were also playing, his mind was distracted until he heard the sound of the ball falling. Y/n celebrated with a satisfied smile, then looked at Peter, trying to show through her gaze that she knew what she was doing. The boy nodded, smiling without showing his teeth.

With every ball hit, the place seemed to get hotter

Every time the ball was hit wrong, the tension grew because of the time they spent together

Every pose was like an invitation to sex

Each smile of success, proof of the tension they shared

And every grunt of frustration, a reference to their pornographic thoughts

Their last ball was hovering over the table, and they didn't even know how they didn't collapse on top of each other intoxicated with desire. Peter's fingers were anxiously tapping against the table, while his best friend's lips were red from biting them to try and hold back any kind of comment.

“Last ball. Do you want to bet something?” Y/n caught the brunette's eye as he mentally planned his move.

“What did you have in mind?” Peter replied, glancing sideways at her.

They only knew what was going on by looking at each other

The same look they shared when they were alone and too close together

Y/n lowered her gaze to Peter's lips and then said:

“If you get it right, you owe me a kiss.” She plucks up the courage to say it.

Y/n feels that her legs could lose their strength in that place, but decides to use her bolder side, waiting for an answer from the brunette, who puts his bat away on the wooden pedestal, then returns to the table. The girl looks at him confused and frightened, thinking that it might not have been a good idea to flirt with him in those conditions, but is taken aback when he picks up the ball that was missing and throws it straight into the mouth of the table. Y/n nods her head and gives him a snort of laughter as he walks back to her once more.

“I think I've got it.” He says, pulling her by the crotch of her jeans, causing their already panting bodies to touch.

“You cheated.” She says, releasing the bat from his hands as he puts it on the table.

“Are you really going to complain?” Peter asks.

“No.” Y/n says, pulling hard on the back of his neck so that her lust-intoxicated lips can satisfy his.

Peter's lips meet hers, allowing no time for them to enjoy themselves, as the girl's tongue quickly finds his. Their heads move in sync, not even paying attention to the drunken veterans talking loudly, or those at the tables next to them. Peter feels that staying in his pants is becoming a difficult job, while Y/n realizes that her hands are tingling to get down his body. The brunette's strong hand squeezes her waist, causing her hot core to contract and a small moan to escape her lips. Peter turns her around, placing her back against the pool table as a support so that the kiss can go deeper. One of his hands found the back of her hair, pulling it slightly so that she could look at him.

Their bodies breathed in the same sync, and their hearts beat with the same intensity.

“Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.” Peter says against the girl's ear.

Y/n squeezed Parker's exposed muscles, which felt like they were going to burst through his shirt.

“You. I want you.” Y/n asks, holding his head as he answers in her ear.

“Tell me exactly what you want, Y/n” Peter squeezed his waist, pulling him even closer to him, making it possible to feel how aroused he was in his dark wash jeans.

“Peter Parker, if you don't take me back to your dorm right now and fuck me with all the fucking strength you've got, I swear I'm going to finish this here on my own” Y/n loses control of his words, which have been taken over by his excitement.

Peter turns away abruptly, picks up his jacket from one of the chairs near the table, puts it in his hands and says:

“Let's get out of here then.”

[transrevolutions]

asoiaf modern au where agot takes place in the most dysfunctional secondary school ever. arya has an accommodation plan for her adhd that gives her permission to draw in class but cersei (who is the kind of teacher that hates having to follow inclusion policies) gets mad and throws away one of arya's wolf oc drawings except that particular drawing was actually sansa's and when sansa finds out she gets so pissed off that she dumps joffrey over it. joffrey gets cersei to try and get ned removed from his position of assistant principal even though he's basically running the school at that point because robert baratheon (the real principal) keeps getting drunk when he's supposed to be working.

jon joins an after-school self-defense/outdoor survival skills club and somehow ends up in a weird leadership role because he's one of the only ones who knows what he's doing. tyrion shows up sometimes to try and sell him shitty weed. arya is always begging him to let her come even though she's still under the age limit. daenerys is a transfer student who spends every single one of her classes doing wings of fire rp on scratch.mit.edu but still manages to get good grades so a bunch of the teachers hate her because they're convinced she's cheating.

robert baratheon gets fired after the school board gets an anonymous tip about his drinking on the clock. the anonymous tipper is actually cersei because she's mad that he won't let joffrey run for student council because he's gotten in trouble for bullying too much. when ned finds out about this cersei gets him fired too which makes arya mad so she makes jon teach her mma so she can beat up joffrey. catelyn gets so upset about ned getting fired that she convinces herself that tyrion was in on it bc he's cersei's sister despite the fact that cersei fully and actually hates his guts and tyrion wasn't even remotely involved because he was too busy trying to hide from jon's uncle benjen after he caught him trying to sell jon weed.

robb stark (low level admin position but everyone thinks he's just there bc nepotism which is actually sorta true) tries to get the rest of admin to band together to expose cersei but most of them don't give a fuck so he has to try and network with their longtime rival school to try and find allies. he also may or may not have introduced bran to the online furry community and he really really doesn't want ned or catelyn to find out. daenerys somehow manages to get a whole squad of jocks to basically be her personal bodyguards after she introduces them to wings of fire and they get hooked.

catelyn almost kicks jon out because she thinks he taught rickon to curse when actually rickon overheard sansa ranting about joffrey while on the phone with jeyne poole.

[eram-nesia]

The Northern storm and The Desert Rose

A/N : for the sake of this fic imagine that the Starks somehow came into contact with a Dornish woman. The Martells are the only house that I know of that resembles the features and skintone of an Indian woman. Ik this may not be very much inclusive, but most of the fanfics i read are about the reader being pale, who blushes easily, has golden blonde hair and so on which I've mostly come to ignore. They don't affect my reading experience nor does it lead to a suspension of disbelief of sorts. But i just wanted to put something out that resonates with an Indian female. (This is my first time writing, so it maybe female centric as I draw from my own experiences)

This is a oneshot of Robb falling for a Dornish woman (read Indian as I've incorporated some of our culture and practices).

The day that Robb saw you was something that was imprinted on his mind, evergreen even today. He was on his way to meet some important bannermen at his father's command, with Jon and Theon tagging along. They were walking across the courtyard of Winterfell when he saw you for the first time. As cheesy as it was for him to admit, time seemed to slow down. There you stood, a raven haired beauty amidst the stark white landscape. Snowflakes fell on your hair and your face as you looked at them with a sort of wonder and awe. Robb now recollects how compelled he felt to talk to you that day. His feet carried him forward on his own.

Within what seemed like seconds he stood before you. He curtsied. "m'lady. Might I know the name of the most beautiful woman I've ever met ?" You turned around swiftly. He swears that he fell in love the second he looked into those Onyx eyes everytime he narrated the story of how he fell in love with his wife. "Your grace." You curtsied with reverence. "That's a compliment I'm afraid I can't accept your grace." You pursed your lips awkwardly. "I'm y/n your grace, from Dorne. I...umm..i am a farmer in Dorne and I came here to sell some of our best spices."

Spices and farming ? While Robb had heard of the independent nature of the Dornish women, he was awestruck when he met a lone woman travelling all the way up to the north to make a living. "What sort of spices m'lady ? Please enlighten me." He replied.

You tried to avert your eyes and tried not to look his cool blue eyes. "Oh you know..the usual, star anise, cumin, cloves etc." you suddenly looked at the figures of Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy waiting behind Robb. Your heart beat a bit too fast for your liking. Greyjoy was smirking as he felt how flustered you were. "I'm sure you have a lot of business to attend to your grace. Please excuse me." You curtsied and left the courtyard in a hurry. Robb looked at your figure retreating till he couldn't see you anymore. "Who's she ?" He enquired Theon who shrugged with a smile cheekily.

The Stark family were almsot finished at the dinner table, finishing up their grilled meat and stew. Robb worked up the courage to ask his father about the strange woman he met that morning at the courtyard. He asked "father, you know of any Dornish women who are here to sell..umm spices ?" Ned nodded his head and said "yes. y/n. I heard son. She is a part of the royal envoy, sent by the Martells as a way of strengthening the cultural ties. They're offering their spices in exchange for our fish and timber. Why Robb ?" "Nothing of importance father. I met y/n today, and she...was...she made an impression is all" now it was Robb's turn to be flustered.

A year later :

Robb still hadn't gotten used to the Dornish spices in his food. Of course it was delicious but sometimes his wife forgot his heat tolerance and let her Dornish ancestors guide her on the spices. He nevertheless finished his stew as to not upset his sweet wife. He smiled remembering what she was doing that morning.

When Robb woke, his wife wasn't under the covers with him, he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he bent down to pet greywind. He suddenly smelled incense and he saw smoke drifting through his chambers. He grinned and waited for his wife to make her entrance. She usually sat in a stool as she put what she called the "dhoop" for her hair. It smelled of various flowers and herbs he'd only heard about in passing. She had a golden dhoop holder which released the smoke in small quantities slowly and his sweet wife sat on the stool and put it under her hair as it dried.

He was obsessed with her shiny black hair. There were many things about her that made him curious to know more about her culture. The way she applied kohl to her eyes, which she called "mai", outlining her onyx eyes dramatically. It hypnotised him. Sometimes she'd be singing songs in her native tongue, as she worked in the kitchen and it mesmerized him.

Her beauty was something he was very proud of. His wife's beauty was known throughout the lands, a farmer from Dorne, Lady of Winterfell these days. Everything about her intrigued him. Her tan skin, her raven hair, her dark eyes, her mysterious tongue, her exotic jewelry and it's jingling. Everyday he woke, he knew he was going to be educated on something new about his wife and you too enjoyed seducing him and shocking him with accessories and attires from your homeland. While you missed the deserts of your home sometimes, you were accustomed to the moody northern skies by now. The furs, the boots, the meats. You enjoyed cooking food for your husband and his family, enjoyed introducing them to new palattes. Their appreciation meant a lot to you. But none of them meant as much as the love and adoration in Robb's eyes.

For reference this is a brass dhoop holder.

And this is the character inspo for Dornish Lady of Winterfell :

This is the first fic I'm posting and writing. I'm a newbie trying to explore so suggestions are welcome :)

[nevergraciee]

idea:

sometimes, when happy is especially tired, he’ll have a flash of a youthful face. the only clear part is his bright smile, everything else blurred. he only sees him for a millisecond before he disappears, the image a brief memory.

stephen looks through universes as needed, and in many of them, a boy named peter parker is at the center of the world’s problems. he supposes it’s a good thing he can’t find any record of anyone by that name in his world.

michelle and ned share an affinity for spider-man. they can’t remember why or when they started admiring him, but they can’t help a fond smile from embracing their cheeks whenever a video of him swinging around pops up on their feed.

pepper finds a drawing from when morgan was 6, a drawing of morgan, tony, pepper, and spider-man. only, spider-man is unmasked and pepper can’t imagine why morgan would draw them all together. an overactive imagination, she settles on.

[greywoe]

"The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen."

[inkandarsenic]

these hollow empty spaces (1)

“do what is right, not what is easy.”

My first Game of Thrones fic! Notably, this is not the idea I sent in an ask to @dipperscavern, but rather one sort of inspired by a separate ask. I tried to link both asks, but tumblr won’t let me. Anyhoops.

Synopsis: The youngest daughter of Tywin Lannister refuses to stand idly by, and the currents of fate shift.

Pairing: Robb Stark x Lannister!OC

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers but like enemies more in the political sense

Pt. 1

masterlist | next

The North passed outside the window in an endless expanse of rolling moors and sprawling forests – nature at its finest. The air up here was clean and cold, almost sweet after the stink of King’s Landing. Maybe that’s why Eleyna couldn’t stop drawing back the heavy curtains that kept the cold out.

Cersei huffed. “Must you stare out the window? It’s not as if there is anything interesting out there.” She glared at Eleyna. “You’ll make the children sick, they aren’t used to this dreadful chill.”

The children in question were playing a game quietly in their corner of the wheelhouse, and looked rather warm, if Eleyna was being honest. The only one who could complain of being cold was Joffrey, riding outside with Jaime. Eleyna rolled her eyes at her sister and let the curtain drop. “You are the only one complaining, dear sister. Forgive me for wanting to enjoy the beauty of the North.”

“The beauty of a frozen, barren wasteland?” Cersei scoffed.

“You’ve been in the city too long, Cersei,” Eleyna sighed. “The North is not a wasteland.”

“No?” Cersei waved a hand at the window. “How many cities have we passed? How many keeps?” She shook her head disdainfully. “It has been days since we saw civilization, if that swamp can be called such. Barren wasteland.”

Eleyna sighed and leaned back in her seat. “That swamp is Moat Cailin. It is the first defense of the North against Southron invasions and it has never been taken precisely because of the swamp it sits on. You should know this, Cersei, don’t you ever listen to Father and Jaime?” She smirked faintly. “Or do you and Jaime not… talk about such things?”

Cersei scowled. Her voice was sharp when she spoke. “I have better things to worry about than Northern defenses.”

Eleyna shrugged and looked back out the window. “Let us all hope you never lead a war then.”

“Spending all those years with only Father and Tyrion for company has made you paranoid,” Cersei scoffed. “Do you expect us to be going to war with the North sometime soon, sister? Ned Stark is Robert’s loyal dog, you know that as well as I. I don’t worry about Northern defenses because there is no reason to. Lord Stark is loyal to Robert, and Robert plans to betroth the Stark girl to my Joffrey. We will have Northern loyalty for decades to come.”

“You sound so certain,” Eleyna mused. She certainly wouldn’t want to be Sansa Stark — Joffrey had become quite the mean-spirited boy in her years away from the Red Keep, and she often wondered what happened to the sweet little toddler he’d been when she left. Maybe he’d be kinder to his future wife.

****

There is a surprising amount of people in the courtyard of Winterfell when Eleyna follows Tyrion out of the wheelhouse ahead of Cersei and the children. The entire Stark household came out to meet the King, it seems. From the corner of her eye, Eleyna can see Joffrey preening, and she rolls her eyes at him, turning away before he can see.

The Stark family makes up the first line of welcoming party. A tall, serious-faced man near Robert’s age (wearing his years better, in Eleyna’s opinion) stands next to a pretty red-headed woman – Ned Stark and his Tully wife. She can hear her father in her head — “Honorable to a fault – where does honor get you in war?” — as she watches Lord Stark and his household kneel before Robert. The King waves them to their feet and regards Lord Stark solemnly.

“You got fat,” Robert says. Eleyna scoffs internally — Robert enjoyed his wine and feasting, and it showed — and she watches Ned Stark raise an eyebrow pointedly before both men start to laugh. She resists the urge to shake her head and moves her attention to the rest of the Starks.

Eleyna means to scan down the line of children — five of them, and all close in age, gods above Lord and Lady Stark had been busy — but her eyes land on the Heir of Winterfell and stop. Robb Stark’s coloring is all Tully, like his mother, all dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes. The expression he wears is all Lord Stark. She wonders idly what he’d look like wearing a smile — something tells her it would light his face up.

Tywin had brought Robb Stark up exactly once, when Eleyna had come of an age to betroth. Robert had wanted Tywin to arrange a marriage between the Stark heir and the Lannister heir. Tywin had read the letter to her and then promptly thrown it on the fire. He was adamant that his heir would not ever marry into the North. “You are a lioness, my daughter, and no child of mine will be a wolf if I can help it.”

“— and my goodsister, the Lady Eleyna Lannister.” Robert’s voice filtered in, and Eleyna blinked. She’d been staring at the Stark boy too long.

****

Robb stood solemnly by his father as they filled the courtyard. He could guess at some of them by reputation alone — the tall golden haired knight must be the Kingslayer, Ser Jaime Lannister, and the boy next to him was likely the Crown Prince, Joffrey. The king — a larger man than Robb had expected, a man who looked as though he enjoyed wine — stopped in front of Father, and the two men stared at each for a long tense moment.

Robb looked past them as the king spoke jovially to his father and greeted his mother. The queen’s wheelhouse had made it — barely — into the courtyard. First out was a short, little man who shared the Kingslayer’s blonde hair. “That’s the Imp!” Robb heard Arya whisper.

Robb’s eyes caught on the next person to exit, a girl with hair of golden-brown who looked close to his own age. He mentally ran through the members of the queen’s family — coming from the queen's wheelhouse, how could she be anything but the queen's family? — and decided this had to be Eleyna Lannister, Tywin Lannister’s youngest daughter. He studied her delicate features, softer somehow than her elder sister’s and yet still vaguely similar. Robb would never say it — hadn’t Theon just said that morning that the queen was proud and vain? — but Eleyna Lannister was, in a word, beautiful, moreso than her sister in his opinion.

The instant the introductions and ceremony were finished, Father and the king disappeared down into the crypts, and the Lannisters were escorted off to the guest wing. Robb found his eyes following the Lady Eleyna as she passed by him, her arm around the shoulders of Prince Tommen.

Theon thumped him on the shoulders. “Aye, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He inhaled through his teeth as he watched the Lannister heiress walk away. “You know I heard they call her the Golden Rose of the Westerlands? Gods above, imagine being the man to get to marry that?”

Robb didn’t want to imagine it, not when he could feel Jaime Lannister’s glare boring into the side of his head. Rather, he felt like any perceived slight against the Kingslayer’s little sister would earn him a sword through the back. He swallowed, and dragged Theon off out of Lannister’s earshot before he could get himself in trouble.

****

“You’re walking with the Stark boy tonight,” Cersei said as she swept into the library. Eleyna looked up from her book with an eyebrow raised.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Cersei,” she snarked. “What are you on about now?”

“Myrcella is far too young to be considered for a betrothal,” Cersei snapped. She sat dramatically in a chair across the table — Eleyna oft thought Cersei would have done well in a theater troupe. “And I will be dead in the grave before I see my only daughter shipped off North.”

“I wasn’t aware Lord Stark was seeking a marriage for his heir,” Eleyna hummed. She closed the book and eyed her elder sister. “Are you not concerned with offending our hosts? Custom dictates that eldest available son and the eldest available daughter enter together.”

Cersei waved it away. “He isn’t, as far as I know. But you know Robert. He’ll take any opportunity to join our family with his precious Starks. Bad enough that he’s already promised Joff to the eldest Stark girl. No.” She shook her head. “To hell with custom. The Stark boy will have to content himself with you instead of my sweet Myrcella. I will not have my only daughter placed in the hands of a Northern brute.”

“Cersei.” Eleyna had long since mastered the exact tone of voice Tywin Lannister used to keep his children in line — perks of growing up at her father’s knee — and Cersei rolled her eyes, but stopped insulting the Starks, thank the gods.

It was a long moment before Eleyna spoke again. “I will walk with Robb Stark.” Cersei started to smirk and Eleyna resisted the urge to hit her sister — as usual, Cersei had gotten what she wanted. She gritted her teeth as she spoke. “You… are not entirely wrong. Myrcella is rather young. She’d be better suited with the younger Stark boy. Bran, I believe his name is.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Cersei patted Eleyna’s hand and swept out of the room as Tyrion entered.

“That’s not—” But Cersei was already gone. Eleyna rolled her eyes.

“Cersei in the library?” Tyrion said with an air of incredulity as he took Cersei’s seat. “Whatever is that about?”

“It seems I’m to be escorted by Robb Stark this evening. Cersei is convinced that if he takes Myrcella, Robert will betroth her to the man.” Eleyna eyed her brother over the table. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But somehow, this is your fault.”

Tyrion shrugged, tapping idly. “You wound me, sister. You truly believe me so scheming?”

“Yes,” Eleyna said flatly. She shook her head and reopened her book. “You know as well as I how protective Cersei is of her children.”

“Her one redeeming quality.”

Eleyna’s lips quirked. “You said something to her. Admit it.”

“It is hardly my fault if our dear elder sister takes a jest seriously,” Tyrion said casually. “No real harm done, though. In fact, I do believe you will make a fine couple with the young Stark, should a betrothal actually form from this single escort.”

Eleyna snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “Father would sooner see dragons return.”

Tyrion couldn’t really disagree with that, but he shrugged anyway. “Stranger things have happened.”

Eleyna didn’t dignify that with a response.

[snow-blower]

how do you think ned would comfort his girl?

Honest to god I am so sorry this took soooo long to get to. Lwk forgot I had a bunch of asks in my inbox fr 😩😩

Anyways, may I extend my hand with the offer of Ned Stark comforting his girl Headcanons?? 🤭

❥ I think he'd be more quiet about how he comforts you, though that's not to say he doesn't. He always does. And he might not be the most flowery with words, but the words he does say to you? Reassuring AF.

❥He always notices when you're upset, even if it's just a little frown, or your shoulders are a little too slumped. He'll just pull you into his side and kiss your temple if you're in public. And if he notices you're upset whilst you're alone? He's all over you in that quiet but loving way.

❥ He knows your needs like the back of his hand fr. He knows exactly what helps you feel better and he knows exactly how to go about comforting you.

❥ Likes resting his forehead against your own and cupping your cheeks. You cannot convince me otherwise. His thumbs brush against your cheekbones and he just holds you close.

❥ If someone upsets you — even just a little bit, he's going full Stark mode. Just less obvious. He's glaring at them from across the room, hand on the pommel of his sword like he's waiting for the best moment to draw it.

❥ He hates seeing you cry, but when you do, he softens so damn much. Brushes the tears with his thumbs and pulls you against him. He lets you cry for as long as you need. And once you're all done, he kisses the little tear tracks on your cheeks.

❥ If you get really low, he'll draw you a bath and just let you relax whilst lingering around you. Sometimes he'll sit behind you in the tub and let you take a lil bath nap against his chest. Other times he'll wash your hair for you, occasionally kissing your forehead.

❥ Sometimes, if you're feeling up to it, he'll take you to the Godswood. He'll let you curl into his side whilst you sit by the weirwood tree and waits patiently for you to talk about what's bothering you. And if you don't? That's okay too. He'll just pull you tighter against him and tell you it's gonna be okay.

❥ If you need space, he'll give it to you. He'll check in on you, but not in that constant way that would make you want to push him away more. Just little things like tucking your cloak tighter around you if he passes you in the hall, leaving your favourite books close by and making sure the hearth always has a steady fire in your chambers.

Damn I need this man 😩😩