#sofias stuffed

[sofias-stuffed]

Lookin thicccccc in my morning yoga fit

[sofioopsies]

[sofiaspeaksart]

so I’ve been learning how to sew plushies :D

free frog pattern by @boigameista :] pattern tutorial

free manatee pattern here

free chinchilla pattern here

free deer pattern here

dragon pattern is the jointed dragon plush pattern by BeeZeeArt on etsy (although I altered the head shape and how I attached the legs)

free donkey pattern here

[sofiasfanartcollection]

More Hypno studies! (Plus a little of Warren, and Leo snuck in there too.)

[systimming]

Sofia the First board with princess themed stims!

- Mod Sammy + Mod Father.

((Sources of gifs: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x ))

[indestinatus]

just finished crooked kingdom and that last pekka rollins chapter always makes me go CAW CAW MOTHERFUCKER

[royalbloopers]

[justsayurmine]

me if i was a moodboard

[lomltrentarnold]

He went to an amusement park with the Sofia girl he’s following 🥹 look at his last photo dump & her post from today. Same background & same stuffed animal

omg i didn’t even realise!! maybe they linked up 👀👀 and yall are some spies im telling you cause how did you see that 😭

[marvelfanfics1]

story time on how the reader got lost in the mall w rafia and the aftermath ?

Rafe and Sofia just wanted to have a 10 minute break from walking, so you can eat a small snack and they can sort out their things.

As they are searching through the amount of shopping bags for Rafe's wallet that he slipped into one of them in a haste after leaving the last store you were in.

"I swear I've put it in here somewhere..." He mutters, rummaging through the different bags furiously.

"Stop, you ain't gonna find it like that, let me-" Sofia starts but you tune their voices out when a store caught your attention, getting up from the bench you're sitting on beside the both.

A minute later Rafe finally found his wallet holding it up. "Got it. A'ight, where did you want to go next baby?" He asks, lifting his head to look at you, his heart dropping when you're not there, patting Sofia's shoulder. "Babe, where is she?"

Sofia furrows her brows turning her head to where you're supposed to be, her eyes widening. Both of them instantly stand up, their eyes scanning through the crowds of people for any sign of you.

Rafe's running a hand over his buzzed head while Sofia pulls out her phone, trying to call you but sighs when she hears your phone ringing in her bag, remembering that you gave it to her earlier so you wouldn't lose it somehow.

"Rafe, what if she's regressed? What if-" She starts to worry until Rafe places his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey, hey, don't freak out on me now. We'll find her, okay?" He assures her. "She can't be far, let's go."

Grabbing the bags, they start to search for you, walking a little faster and looking into various stores when they see you in a toy store, standing in front of a shelf that holds tons of stuffed animals.

"Thank god." Rafe sighs in relief, quickly making his way over to you and before he could start scolding you Sofia pulls you into her arms.

"Sof, look they have a pink bunny here!" You smile as she hugs you tightly, completely oblivious that you worried them beyond belief.

Sofia pulls away to cup your face in her hands, squeezing them together a bit. "You scared us, baby."

"Huh?" You furrow your brows, not understanding what she's talking about, feeling Rafe place his hand on the back of your head to pull you slightly closer and plants a kiss on top of it before pulling back to look down at you.

"You just ran away without telling us. We were worried about you, kid." He explains, his tone is a tad firm but not too much, knowing you didn't mean to worry them so much.

"M'sorry..." You mumble, now lowering your gaze to the ground in shame. "Jus' wanted to look at the plushies."

"Everything's okay now, at least we found you quickly." Sofia soothes your guilt, kissing your cheek in reassurance. Afterwards she turns her gaze to the bunny you wanted to show her.

She shares a look with Rafe and he rolls his eyes jokingly, grabbing the pastel colored bunny from the shelf. "This one looks a bit lonely here don't y'think? Better take it home." He says, handing it to you, a smile tugging on his lips when you smile again before going to hug him and he pats your back.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[moonypears-blog]

This has made me think of Sofia being teased at school for sleeping with a stuffed animal, or something similar, and when Cedric sees how upset it made her, he shows his to her, saying "I'm a full grown adult, and I have one, see." Then a long talk about childhood.

Headcanon

Cedric's always kept the beloved Teddy bear his mummy gave him when he was born. It's a keepsake, and most of the time he keeps it safely put away to preserve the condition, except for some nights when he's feeling especially sad or lonely and just needs to cuddle it.

@bettathanyou @moonypears-blog @fantadym

[laiiaaa]

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE — CARMEN BERZATTO 1. BUTTERSCOTCH — you finally say hello to a familiar face in the city after a little girl bumps into you. (2.7k) masterlist | next | taglist

Carmen keeps track of the running grocery list in his head:

Green onions? Check. Shallots? Check. Rolled oats? Check.

“Alright,” he huffs into the phone, a stupid thing tucked snug between his shoulder and jaw.

“Carm, I’m serious—”

“Nat, I got it, alright? I’ll call the fuckin’ guy.” Strawberries? Check. Eggs? Check. “I’m at the store, ‘n I’ll be back, ‘n then I’ll call him. It’s fine.” Dino nuggets? Check. That way-too-sugary cereal Sofia likes—? Even though he wishes Richie never gave it to her—? Check, check, check, so fuckin’ checked. “Now, do you wanna talk to—”

He looks to his side, where Sofia once stood with chubby little fingers hooked on the cart, that raggedy old stuffed animal always caught in the other fist. Gone. Carmen’s heart stops and catches in his throat. 

Natalie’s voice again, much quieter now that the phone’s not at his ear. “Hello?”

He doesn’t even hear his sister, doesn’t process her words.

He turns around. “Sof?” But she’s not there.

He tries again, facing forward, a little louder. “Sofia?” Nothing. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, ending the call without a second thought. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

He shoves his phone into his pocket, abandons the cart altogether, pokes his head into the aisle over. “Sofia.” Nothing. “Shit—”

He can’t breathe. A closed fist shoots to his chest to try and soothe the droughted ache. The ceiling’s closing in from above, every aisle looks the same, his feet are too heavy to carry him fast enough through the store.

Where’s his fuckin’ kid?

You’re spooked out of a fatigued trance by a clumsy little girl at your feet in the produce section. 

She can’t be older than four, her chubby little face framed by golden brown curls, dressed in a cute little black dress and pink tights, ballet flats to boot. By her hand is a well-loved stuffed animal: an orange tabby cat with lint fuzzies along its body, teetering on the edge of the display about to fall into the lettuce.

“Well, hello,” you start.

She peeks up at you through stray curls with a grin. “Hi.”

You do a quick scan of the immediate area but spot nothing other than a worker stocking bananas twenty feet away, another pushing a cart of mangoes. “Where’d you come from, hm?” You perch down next to her and try to offer a warm smile to keep her calm.

“I’m here with my daddy.”

“Yeah? Where’s he at?”

Her lips, shiny with drool, puff into a pout. “I…” Her little voice wobbles, and you know that fucking wobble, that precursor to something uncontrollable and wretched, and for a split second you consider letting her cry, just on the off chance her dad hears it.

But you come to your senses: it’ll take all but five, no more than ten minutes to cover the entire store ground. You graze your hand by her back and offer her the sorry excuse for a cat. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s alright. I’ll help you.”

“B-But…” Those pretty brown eyes of her turn glassy, ready for tears, and her lip quivers, her cheeks puff out.

“I’ll help you find him, okay? We’ll wait right here, and I promise he’ll find you. We won’t leave this spot til he does.”

She hesitates before she nods, gives you a warbled, “Okay.”

You give her your name—something you read or heard from word of mouth, how putting a name to your face makes you more trustworthy. “What’s yours?”

“...Sofia.”

“Sofia,” you repeat. “That’s a very pretty name.”

The dimples that come through with her smile have you swooning, your chest filling with something sweet. A supercut you’ve long since abandoned flits through one of the best and worst years you’ve endured: kisses at the door for hello and goodbye, chilly Chicago mornings spent in someone else’s sheets, serving coffee in thick handmade mugs and being thanked for it with lips pressed to your cheek. But that was a year ago, and it’s long gone. You’re better off now—occupied with work, and running a business, and trying new things, and finding comfort in the solitude of an apartment that’s filled with nothing but the smell of coffee grounds.

Your pointer finger lifts her toy’s head: “And who’s this?”

“Butterscotch,” she says, Butter sounding a whole lot like Buttah.

“Yeah? Where’d you come up with that name?”

“My daddy’s a chef, he teached it to me.”

A chef, you hum, No wonder he’s here at seven in the morning.

And you do just about everything you’d want someone to do if this were your kid: you keep her right where she is like you promised her, you listen to all her stories she has with Butterscotch, you answer the silly questions she asks while she holds your finger in a squishy hand and bears a gummy smile.

Until—

A man wrought with stress approaches. Fitted white tee, loose denim on his hips, beat up Nikes that’ve probably seen better days. Golden brown curls like the little girl’s, only thicker, darkened with age, and half-straightened, probably from the way he runs his fingers through them like he does as he walks toward you and the girl. Buff arms, built shoulders, and they’re littered with tattoos…

Not what you expected. And he looks so fucking familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it—

“Sofia,” he huffs, and she scurries over to him in tiny yet quickened steps and jumps into his arms, his eyes closing and brows furrowing with a relief that’s palpable as he tucks his nose into her swirling hair. “What’d I tell you about comin’ to the store w’me, huh?” A veiny hand with the letters S O U inked on the fingers cups the back of her head as he sways her from side to side, failing to give her much of a stern look at all despite his frustration. “You gotta stay by my side, I told you, you’ll get lost.”

“But I wasn’t lost, Daddy,” she pouts, “I was right here, and—and I had to find Butterscotch, and you—you weren’t there—”

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing his hand along her back before he thumbs away budding tears from her fleshy cheeks. “Okay, hon…” He props her at his hip. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just scared me ‘s all, alright? Didn’t know where you were, had me lookin’ all over for you.”

“...I’m sorry,” she mumbles, clearly upset, nuzzling into her dad’s shoulder as he presses a sweet kiss to her head.

He looks to you, then, and you lend him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about her, she’s, uh…” He peeks at her, so lovingly— “She can be a handful sometimes.”

“No, don’t apologize, she was great.” Your eyes drift to his hands. They’re big, strong, like he knows what to do with them around the house, with a baby girl...with her mother, too, though you wonder where that stands. You try not to. “She’s talkative, makes for a fun conversation. A great storyteller, too.”

He smiles, and it’s hearty, with a twitch of a brow as he draws just a bit closer—it’s slight, so slight you almost think you’re imagining things. “Think so? She doesn’t usually, um…doesn’t usually wanna talk to people, y’know?” He hikes her up again, and she turns so that she’s facing you. “Get all grumpy, don’t ya, Sof? Like with your Uncle Richie?”

“But she’s nice,” she chimes in, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving the cat’s head peeking through. “Not mean like he is.”

Again with that smile, he looks at her with raised brows, bobs her up and down as he holds her tight, like she’s his entire world. “Yeah?” He shoots you back a look, half-impressed. “You don’t wanna see him today, huh?”

“No,” she grumbles, face smushed into his tee. “Can she come to work with us instead?”

“Sof…” He scoffs, cocking his head to the side, and his eyes dart between you and his girl. “That’s not—we can’t just—”

“Pretty please, Daddy…” She pouts at him, pulls on his neck with her arms looped around it, starts trying to lean back to stir up trouble but his hands hold her firm to his torso. “You said Eva and Vivi can’t play today…”

“I—I know, hon— . . . It’s just— . . .” Kissing his teeth, he contemplates for a moment. “She probably has work to do, y’know? Just like I have to work? And how sometimes you can’t come with me?”

“Where does she work?”

“Uhhh…” In an awkward pause, he seems to realize the dilemma. The expectant glance your way is almost painful. “Shit,” he hisses, holding Sofia with one hand to run fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, I should’ve—I should introduce myself, right?” The pained look on his face makes you think the question is genuine, and he offers his right hand to you— “I’m Carmen, but, um, most people just call me Carmy.”

It clicks: He’s Carmen Berzatto. Not just some guy or some chef in the grocery store you’ve happened to meet, but the guy. The guy who owns the fine dining joint across the street from your cafe; the guy who showed up to the city a few years ago only to revamp his family-owned sandwich shop in its entirety; the guy you’d heard so much about from the gossip around the block between vendors; the guy who left his roots to be something so much bigger than anyone could’ve imagined; the guy who came back with a reputation with none to rival and a shattered family in its shadow. The prodigal son of Chicago. You heard of him but never met.

“Y-Yeah, right, right,” you nod, stumbling for the right words. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.” You take his hand graciously as you give him your name. His handshake is firm, solid, sure of himself, with a callused palm and dry skin and cracked knuckles, an inked-on hand with a knife through its palm on the back of his hand. “You own The Bear, right?”

“I do.” Sheepish, like it’s embarrassing to be successful.

“Cool, cool, I’ve, um, I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, but I’ve never been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Something warm in your belly comes to the surface and you try to drown it. “I own the cafe across the street—? Just a, uh, a smaller place—” You shake your head as if to dismiss the thought of him even knowing about it. “I dunno if—”

“No, no, yeah, I know that one, a few doors down—” he nods, fervently— “Etta’s, right?”

You smile. He knew of it so quick, with so little detail you want to think it means something. “Yeah, that’s the one.” For fuck’s sake, the guy probably just likes to support his local businesses. Get a grip.

“My sister loves that place, goes there all the time. But I, uh…” A soft smile at his girl. “I don’t usually have much time to go myself…”

“Yeah, I can imagine you’re pretty busy with her.” Unless her mom is in the picture…?

But he doesn’t take the bait—he only smiles, hums with a subtle nod, gives Sofia a pat on the back to get her attention, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey, cub, guess what?”

She comes to only slightly, with pale blonde locks like angel’s hair tickling Carmen’s neck. Grumbles something akin to a Hm?

“You know those chocolate chip muffins you like? The ones your Aunt Natalie gets for you?”

Her curls are already caught in her eyelashes. “With the sparkles on top?”

He gives you a knowing look: sugar, not sparkles. “Yes, with the sparkles. Did you know our new friend here runs that shop?”

Her head perks up with a gasp. “What?” Her excitement is so soft, and she can’t even stave off a smile now, tiny teeth shining through to show the dimples in her cheeks again.

“You heard me.”

From her mouth is only a whisper, a doe-eyed look targeted right at you. “No way.”

You smile at her. “Yes way.”

She puts on those puppy dog eyes, looks at Carmen with a pout as she tugs on him again. “Daddy, can we please—”

 In one fell swoop, his hand whisks her hair out of her face. “Uh-uh. Nice try.”

Oh, but she’s a stubborn one. “But please—”

“Not today, baby, we gotta finish shopping, hm? Then go to work?” His eyes dart to meet yours in a knowing glance, a silent apology and excuse to leave. “Maybe I’ll ask Aunt Natalie to get them for you tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

She huffs and buries herself into his neck again, turning away from you now that she’s in a surly mood.

“Okay,” he sighs, smiling to himself, and you can’t deny the comfort in seeing his little girl so cozy with him, like he’s either the only parent around, or he’s really just that good of a father—and husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, or whatever he might be. You don’t know if you should feel guilty for wanting to pry.

The conversation lulls to a hesitant stop, like neither one of you is sure how to bid farewell—or whether you want to do so at all.

“Y’know,” he starts, with a finality to his tone, “I’ve still gotta—”

“Yeah, me too—”

“And I left the cart in the other aisle—”

“Right, right, of course—”

“And they need me at the—”

“Same here, I need to, uh—”

“Right, yeah, so um—”

“Yeah—”

“I guess I should—”

“Probably—”

“And, uh—…”

“It was nice to meet you, though,” you finish, maybe a little too enthusiastic for only having just done so minutes ago.

But if it were, Carmen doesn’t show it. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around.”

You offer a softened smile. “Guess so.”

And he leaves you with a curt nod before he turns around with Sofia’s face smushed into his shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck to leave Butterscotch hugged to the nape of it. That’s all you see, then: just a beaten up stuffed animal and springy golden curls as Carmen rounds the corner of the aisle, your breath gone short and face gone warm by the end of it.

Half of it, you’re sure, is the simple brevity of it all: consoling a lost child, to chatting with her father, to finding out he’s a business neighbor. And against your better judgment, the other half of it is a twinge of attraction to him.  Even though he has a kid, and he may very well be married, or at least in a relationship, and by the looks of it, stressed out of his goddamn mind…

But there’s just something about him.

The way he was worried about his daughter like he’s supposed to be, the way he holds her and dotes on her and rubs her back like it’s nothing but natural to him, the heartwarming smile that reaches his eyes just by looking at his precious girl. The hard-earned strength in his hands and arms, the symbolic imagery of his tattoos that you’ve yet to dwell upon in late night hours, the awkward demeanor about him like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to talk to you—or if he even knows how. And all this, you see in a man working down the street, a man you’ve never spoken to until today, who could be the worst person in the world for all you know.

You don’t, is the thing. You don’t know his middle name, or his favorite color, or favorite food, or where he’s even worked, really, other than here in Chicago. You don’t know if Sofia’s mother is still around, or whatever happened to her if she isn’t, or if it’s a topic he breaches freely or not at all.

You don’t know enough about him yet to judge. You don’t know much at all. You don’t know if you want to, whether it’ll send you head first into a mess of pasts not unlike the one you’ve been trying to crawl out of alone for the past grueling months, if it’d upturn all the good you’ve tried to make stick.

But if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you want to see him again. 

And that you’ll have to make a batch or two of muffins first.

masterlist | next | taglist

@knight4xmas @ajourneyforjoy @penguin876

[thatsdemko]

papa carlos - c.sainz

pairings: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader

warnings: established relationship + kid has been given a name

a/n: my little heart needs this rn! also feedback is always appreciated xx

she’s sound asleep beside you on the couch. you promised your baby girl, Sofia, she could stay up until her fathers arrival home, but the minute she got comfortable under the blankets, she was out.

piñon’s head rests on her stomach, two of them in a blissful sleeping state, you envy it a little. wishing you weren’t awake right now, rather asleep in your bed in your husbands arms. alas, you’re on the couch watching his location grow closer and closer to home.

it’s not long until you give into the heaviness of your eyelids. you close them allowing slumber to take over, and when he enters the home and no one is there to greet him, he can only figure you’re asleep.

he sees the glow from the television indicating you’re in the living room still awake. he tsk’s you for not just going to bed, he never understood why you stayed awake for him.

when he enters the living room he sees all three of you asleep. Sofia’s head is rested on your chest, piñon is visibly dreaming, head on Sofia’s stomach, and your eyelids are rapidly moving. the day washes away from him when he sees you three, any worries or anger gets taken over by pure happiness.

he finds the remote tangled up in the blankets, he’s careful to not wake anyone, but piñon gets a whiff of his, second, favorite humans scent, the dogs tail wags but Carlos quickly shushes him with a kiss before the television screen turns black.

he finds an extra blanket and makes sure to toss it over your body, he knows how cold you get in your sleep. he knows the tiny princess blanket you’re wrapped in won’t be enough when you finally wake up. he makes sure to press a kiss to everyone’s forehead before moving into the kitchen to check for anything that needs tidying.

you stir to the sound of his strategic footsteps, you can hear him hissing at his squeaky shoes that you know he’s already taken off. you want to get up and greet him, ask about his day, but the tiredness of your own life seems to win as your eyelids shut once more.

Sofia awakes to the sound of the back door opening and the jingles of piñons collar. she gets up from the blankets, little legs carrying her to the kitchen where her father sits hovered over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“daddy!” she whisper yells, she’s aware you’re still asleep but she’s so excited to see he’s, finally, home. she rushes into his lap, tiny arms wrap around his neck.

“hola princesa,” he presses a kiss to her cheek, big brown loving eyes staring back at him, his heart feels so much love, it’s almost painful it might explode.

he brushes her messy brown hair from her face, tucking the strains behind her ear, “go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be there soon.” he sends her off with one final kiss and he watches her little legs carry her back to the living room where you’re still asleep.

she curls right back into the same spot, and when piñon is finally let back inside, he heads for the couch, head resting on Sofia’s stomach once again.

carlos readies himself for bed. he makes sure to grab Sofia’s favorite stuffed animal on his way to the couch, and he tucks it in her arms watching her sleepy smile grow at the familiar touch of the animal.

he grabs the last available blanket on the couch, he’s on the opposite end of you. you feel his leg move in between your slightly parted legs. when you open your eyes you see he’s sound asleep and Sofia has now moved from next to you, to sleeping on her fathers chest.

the two of their chests rise and fall in synchronization, you can’t help but smile before sleep takes over you once again, eyes falling heavy in content of your beautiful family.

[sofiaspeaksart]

Made a plushie elephant for my grandma!

I’m pretty happy with this one 🐘

Free elephant pattern here

[jaehaeryshater]

“You’ll have others”, he said. “Sweet babes, and trueborn.” Lysa had miscarried five times, twice in the Eyrie, thrice at King’s Landing.

Lysa and Jon Arryn, 284 AC, art by @sofikiii

“Her Lord Husband had told her it wasn’t her fault, that the baby didn’t make it. It was the first time Lysa had heard that, that something that happened wasn’t her fault.”

This, of course, is not a real life out of A Song of Ice and Fire, but the general sentiment got stuck in my head about a month and a half ago. After Hoster forced a miscarriage upon Lysa, I doubt that she had heard any words of comfort like that and that wrecks me. I couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I asked my good friend Sofia who I have worked with before if I could please commission this from her.

Lysa, for starters, is not the most morally upright character in A Song of Ice and Fire. Whether or not she realized it at the time, she did have two non consensual encounters at a young age with Petyr Baelish, she ends up killing her husband and aiding to the mental stunting of her young son, and she is very volatile and cruel with Sansa. She’s obviously not in her right mind, although that is not an excuse for all those actions, but there is an interesting story to tell as to why she’s not in her right mind, what led her to her current state of mind when we meet her. The most surface level answer to this (although of course this does not explain her action towards Petyr prior to this) is that her father Hoster Tully forced her to have an abortion because she got pregnant by Petyr Baelish, and then married her off to Jon Arryn, who was 20 years older than him, essentially old enough to be her grandfather. She was around 14 years old at this time. We learn from the text that she is consistently pregnant over the next 14 years and of her children, only Robert survived. With this art, depicting her first stillbirth, I hoped to show a moment in time leading up to her mental decline. My goal is not to justify the things she did because she suffered, but to show a moment in which she is a victim as part of a broader statement of how woman and, quite frankly, girls are treated in Westeros. I also did not want to romanticize her and Jon’s relationship, but given what we know about him, he probably comforted her and that must have been hard for her to internalize and healthily understand because he’s a person that is victimizing her, is older than her father, but she has to cling to in a way, both as a husband and potentially for this love that she is not currently getting from her family. She’s a very young girl in this and that was something else that I wanted to make sure to implement, that she has just gone through a pregnancy so is looking more mature, but she still has baby fat and a lot of childlike elements to it because in a modern sense, she’s still a kid. A kid that is grieving a baby.

As for the detailing in this art, we mostly have blue coloring for House Arryn. I wanted to do some pink on her walls, as this is her chambers instead of joint chambers with Jon (although historically, even if she had shared chambers with Jon, her confinement rooms would be completely separate anyway) and I wanted to really drive home the childlike aspect of it, that she’s girly and frilly and has this wonder about her that comes crashing down. However, we decided it wouldn’t look good with all of the blue detailings so we stuck with different shades of blue. Jon’s outfit is inspired by an outfit in the Princess Bride, I couldn’t tell you who wore the outfit because I have not seen the movie. It looks like this though, which I usually use a reference for Robert Arryn but it works well with Jon too.

The fish is a stuffed animal from Lysa’s childhood in Riverrun. I never decided if Minisa or Cat made one, but I would more so go with that Lysa and Cat had matching ones as children. I think Lysa would probably get rid of most of her things from the Riverlands because of how hurt she was emotionally, but I still liked the symbolism there and how she’s stuck between being a child and an adult. The portrait in the background is of Minisa. Although it would make sense for Lysa to shun most everything from her life before the Eyrie, seeing as Minisa was not involved in anything that happened to her that caused her harm, I do not think that would extend to her. There’s no reason for Lysa not to feel fondness towards her mother, and especially at the age she is in this depiction, it would make sense that she would want to feel her mother’s presence while in her confinement.

Lastly, this is the inspiration for the poses. The art is called Age and Infancy by John Opie.

Thank you for reading all of this and an even bigger thank you to Sofia!! Lysa is so interesting to me, Jon Arryn too just because of how long his life spanned. I love talking about them and commissioning things that I haven’t seen other people work on before.

[a-complex-joke]

to add to this I believe there are two different kinds of Disney shows(cartoon-wise)

one that is made by Disney and feels like Disney whether they are based on already made Disney property or new things. (aka Disney tm)

then there are shows Disney "made" but the show would have worked on another network or streaming service (Aka Op shows)

shows id clarfy as Op shows are:

Star vs. the Forces of Evil

Gravity falls

Owl House

Amphibia

wander over yonder

fish hooks

Randy Cunningham: 9th-grade ninja

the ghost and Molly Mcgee

And Phineas & Ferb (MML) just narrowly made it into this category

Now the Disney TM shows would be

Kiff

Proud family

oye Primos

American dragon, Jake Long (I'm sorry)

kick Buttoski

and Hamster and Gretal

now there are also the ones on the fence whether it be just that they didn't fit into the other two or because they are great but have Disney property integrated into them

Sofia the First & Elena of Avalor

Tangled the series

BH6 the Series

Kim possible

Big city greens

Doc mc stuffings

Recess

and Doug

Now mind you I mean no disrespect towards any of the creators or Disney as a whole. and I have not watched Moon girl yet so I don't feel it's appropriate to have an Opinion on it yet

I'm finally getting around to finishing Amphibia and I so want to make an OC/Self-insert but the thing is the only other amphibian I can think of would be salamanders and I do not intend on going down that trama route.

I'm thinking an Axolotl or the Olm would be great, they are shown in the show to be within Newt topia so I guess the upper middle class

I just graduated high school so I think it's still socially acceptable to group myself with the girl, but if I need to I could frame it more as I've been trapped there for longer and join the party as an outsider