#great year for jonsa fics

[fistfuloflightning]

Winterfell

[kitnjon]

do you have any jonsa highschool/teen fic recommendations??

Yes! That's one of my fav Jonsa modern AUs genre. There are of course many more fics in Jonsa tags. But sharing some of my favs here -

Ephemeral by @justadram

After the game, in Jon's car, he makes the most of the time he has left with Sansa.

2. Freaks and Geeks by @justadram

Jon invited Sansa to the bleachers after school and there’s only one reason couples come to hang out here.

3. just a silly phase by taylocrow

It started because it was fun. Quiet sophomore Sansa tutors football star senior Jon and it leads to more than studying. Much more.

4. Inevitable by @greenhikingboots

Right as Jon's on the brink of falling for Sansa, she complicates matters by asking for his help with a scheme. Take her to prom? Act like he wants to be more than friends? Watch as her scummy ex-boyfriend's ego implodes? Sounds great. He just hopes he can keep his real feelings, the ones he's still trying to make sense of, hidden throughout the process.

5. Pumpkin eater by @kingsansa

“This is like that one movie.” Sansa’s arms are wrapped around herself. “The Stephen King one. With the cornfields and the clowns.”

“Those are two different movies.” says Jon.

For the first time since they entered the maze, she looks at him. “What?”

“The one with the cornfields is the Children of the Corn.” His breath is a visible puff of steam. “The one with the clowns is IT. But it’s just one clown.”

Sansa scowls.

“I forgot I was talking to the horror connoisseur.”

“I feel like that’s something everyone knows, actually.”

She rolls her eyes. “Guess I’m not like everyone, then.”

“No.” He turns to look at her, and something about the way he does it makes her stomach flip. “You’re not.”

6. The Leader of the Pack by @kittykatknits

The year is 1958.

It's the first day of school and Sansa Stark has just met Jon Snow, a greaser from the wrong side of the tracks. Sansa knows he's the exact sort of boy she's always been warned about, but it doesn't matter, because she's already falling for the leader of the pack.

7. lounge act by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sure, he deals to rich kids all the time. Bored suburbanites with too much time on their hands and too much money, looking for a little bit of excitement. They're Jon's bread and butter.

But there is something off-putting about it being her.

Sansa Stark.

8. Spirit! by @cellsshapedlikestars

When the first spirit box shows up, Jon is convinced it was put in the wrong locker.

Yes, he's on the football team. Yes, it's the first game of the season. But Jon has never received a spirit box before – none of the cheerleaders had ever dared to make him one, he knows they were all terrified of Ygritte. But he and Ygritte are broken up now and it's the start of the season and there's a spirit box in his locker.

It isn't the wrong locker, though – no, there's his name in glittery puffy paint on the top, along with stars and hearts and a little doodle of their team mascot, a direwolf. There's his jersey number. And in the center of it all, a lipstick print. A kiss.

9. and it stoned me by @kit-kat21

“Thank you,” Sansa Stark gave him the smallest smile. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Jon Snow, her brother’s best friend, gave his own small smile. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’ve been wanting to leave for a while so you’ve given me the perfect excuse.”

[daughter-of-winterfell]

My Own Dancing Body

- for the Jonsa Valentine's Day Event 2024 ❤️

“Let me make you some tea,” Jon entreats her, matching her half step. The suggestion is a perfect one and Sansa’s eyes, of their own accord, dart to his. Sincerity lies in wait there with the warmth of banked coals, and hides whatever else he must think, finding her in this bedraggled way. - Sansa returns to East 61st Street close to tears and is met by her cousin Jon. There, he makes her lemon tea and they talk gently with one another.

This is written with great haste/love for @jonsa-valentine, and is the first fanfic I have really written in years! I have posted it 41 minutes past midnight but emotionally, I did this on the 13th ❤️

The types of love in this fic are: Philia (deep friendship) and Storge (familial love).

In this, (as is custom it seems), only the younger Starks are alive and only Sansa travelled to New York to stay with her Aunt Lyanna and Cousin Jon for a season.

To read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53760841

I am the angel who sweep air in and out my own dancing body.

- Angela Jackson, Angel

The hem of her day dress – which her mother had once so painstakingly let down and secured – is dripping and unsalvageable. Sansa could cry, the tears already clawing up her throat and pricking at her insides. The puddle in the foyer only grows as it seems the entirety of the brief shower has been dragged inside on her ragged hem, and the pale pink has been left a murky grey.

Sansa sniffs dismally. She is alone, blessedly so after that, and so wipes her nose with her soaked gloves.

It must be a portent. That on the very first day she no longer wears her clutching, tight-laced mourning dresses, Mr Hardyng decides to propose and the heavens open. Her hands shiver, where they are pressed against her roiling stomach.

And she’d so longed to wear pink again. How girlish and unseemly, but black is not her colour – it drains her features when they’d been drained enough. All life had been scraped from her in the past year. Black lace only meant that all the twittering aunts and ladies could easily spy it for themselves.

Lyanna had said, “Oh, my dear,” when Sansa had arrived in her black cloistered dress, sweating and breathless, on the steps of her East 61st Street home. Her pity was piercing and bright when she rubbed the back of Sansa’s glove.

They had not been able to make it to the funeral, but Lyanna still wore a black pin above her heart for her brother and his family, and her own husband, lost at sea.

The melancholy sweeps through her then with a tidal ebb. An ever-deep sorrow for her mother, Father, Robb. For Bran, travelling far from them with so few letters returned. The dear ache of missing Arya and Rickon, safely ensconced in Riverrun.

Undeniably, a spare ounce of it is for her ruined dress and sodden gloves.

 She is not crying but her face is tight and disgustingly, humiliating damp.

“Miss Stark?”

Hastily, she sniffs in a shockingly unladylike manner and dips her neck, tipping the brim of her hat to somewhat shield herself. Embarrassment coils itself about her ankles and Sansa can only shuffle in the lake she is procuring for herself in Mrs Snow’s pristine hallway.

 It couldn’t be Bannister who found her, or Jeyne. It had to be –

 “Sansa, my dear-”

Jon cleaves his words in two, his footsteps halting an eternity away. She can’t look at him with her burning eyes and pink cheeks, in her poor, piteous state. Sansa hates herself then. What other state has Jon seen her in, since their introduction this season? Piteous and poor and weeping. On their doorstep that first day, when being snubbed by his haughty Targaryen aunt and uncle.

Yet, who else could see her in such a way? Could be allowed to? Whatever is in his eyes – which she assiduously avoids meeting now – there has never, not once, been pity.

He had been the first to wrap his arms around her in months. To dare not murmur any condolences at all.

The first she wishes to reach for, at each luncheon and ball and dinner.

Though she does not now. But the brim of her hat is no match for the hand he extends, bearing a white handkerchief. Sansa takes it from his fingers and dabs at the stinging corners of her eyes.

“Such terrible weather” – Sansa sighs in a manner suited to the stage, determined to seem somewhat unaffected - “I remember you saying I would not need my parasol today.”

His chuckle is a whiskey shot that steals her living breath.

“You would not listen to my counsel, dear cousin.”

The softening of his vowels, the tapping of his shoes – her affectations are whisps of smoke he merely blows apart. He has caught her. Thawing in the hall, in her favourite dress, almost in tears. The dance of custom would be to retreat once the white flag had been offered and accepted and reasoned away.

Jon crosses an inch of the wooden floor.

“I shall dry off and escape this chill,” Sansa declares, taking half a step to the right, towards the solitude offered by the Snow’s guest bedroom.

“Let me make you some tea,” Jon entreats her, matching her half step, “as you do so.”

The suggestion is a perfect one and Sansa’s eyes, of their own accord, dart to his. Sincerity lies in wait there with the warmth of banked coals, and hides whatever else he must think, finding her in this bedraggled way.

She inclines her head, agreeing to the tea, and endeavours not to scuttle away like some anxious creature as Jon remains at the foot of the stairs, one hand outstretched on the banister.

“If I asked,” Jon asks, cradling a cup of tea in his steady hands, perched opposite her cross-legged, straight-spined position at the dining room table, “would you tell me?”

Tell me of what happened to bring you to such a poor and piteous state, in my hallway.

Or more likely, as it is her Jon asking, tell me what made you cry.

“The rain brings out the dreariness in me,” she blusters, half afraid of what may fall from her mouth, “Please, do not worry.”

The crease between his brows tells her his thoughts like a worn book; he worries about me, regardless of what I say.

Her news will not ease that burden for him, yet it spills from her in a heaving rush. How Mr Hardyng had invited her with such grace to his opening of the new rose garden and how she had – foolishly – shed her mourning clothes with a great sigh to attend as the man’s acquaintance. How it was an orchestrated ambush and he had gripped her hands between his and declared her his fiancée when met with her astonished silence.

How no one had spoken a word when she broke that silence and torn her hands from his and the rain poetically chose to drench the entire gaping party. And her pink dress, the one her mother had always loved, was now speckled with mud and puddle-water.

“He should not have taken your hands in that way.”

Jon’s gruff disapproval of the matter of Hardyng overstepping her bodily comforts does not grate as it ought. He shakes his head, dislodging an inky curl from its manicured hold. Likely thinking of how he could have removed Hardyng’s hands from her with a degree of force, as he had done at too many of the balls they had attended at one another’s side this season.

“It is no serious matter.”

He says her name, feather-soft.

“If that was the entirety of it, perhaps it would be, but Jon -” Sansa’s breath hitches and she releases her teacup with a clatter. Oh god.

Without seeming to listen, Jon is consumed, swirling his lemon tea. It is his turn to avoid her gaze.

“He should not have asked at all,” he mutters darkly.

She has just left the black behind so it is not seemly to pounce upon her so, but Jon seems to frown more fiercely than Hardyng’s faux pas deserves.

Swallowing the dismay of her own recollections, she ignores his scowls and continues, chin high and trembling. “Jon, I turned him down, vehemently. What other man will forget that?”

He stills.

Her hands shake against the dining room table as Jon, purposely and with the expression of a man pierced through and through, meets her eyes. Covers her hand with no weight at all.

“I do not need to forget. If – I asked…”

Courage deserts him with a fell swoop and Sansa turns her hand over in careful inches. Soon lacing their tea-warmed hands into one. And she is free, miraculously, of the prickling, shaking, nausea that poisoned her in the hall. It is just her, and her Jon.

“We’re family,” Jon manages, the embers in his gaze alight again and like a looking glass, Sansa knows him, knows his meaning. We could be a family.

They could be. They could dance with one another that inch closer and share lemon tea as dusk falls and they dream of spring.

 Her heartbeat swells, a symphony, and lulls into a new pleasant calmness.

“More tea, my dearest Jon?”

He does not release her hands and her laughing offer is not accepted. Rather, the hearth of his heart opens and the teacups are forgotten as their foreheads touch, gentle across the scant table cloth that rudely divides them.

Lemon tea and dancing can come later. For now, Sansa is held and is warm.

[esther-dot]

I miss Jonsa so much but I miss the fandom so much more. I missed the emotion of coming to tumblr and always finding theories of what would happen next, great authors writing brilliant fics, just people enjoying art and talking about it for so many years. There were chat groups and so many ways to share your theories and analysis time and time again. Even when season 7-8 aired and we suffered and got frustrated and sad together.... it was wonderful it was a shared experience but now there are really few people still in the fandom and it's just sad that now feels so lonely when it used to be my comfort place.

I’m so sorry you feel that way, anon! I chose to leave the one jonsa discord I was part of not long after joining it, so I don’t feel quite the same sense of loss, although I sympathize with your feelings of bereavement. The tags aren’t as active as they once were, but considering how much we hated how they wrote Jon and how long ago GoT ended, I think our fandom does a remarkable job in still finding things to talk about. We still occasionally get new art (lovely, gorgeous, pls we are not worthy more here), we still have active fic writers (a writer of all AUs, modern AUs, on a crime and horror kick, historical and canon-verse AUs, so many more authors -fic tag!), and we even still get new gifsets and so many parallels!

I understand it isn’t the same, your favorite writer may have left the fandom, there isn’t a constant flow of new content, but it makes me even more grateful for those who still do attempt to contribute to the fandom, by creating or by encouraging those who do, by simply reblogging or leaving a comment or sending an ask. It will never be the same, but still find so much joy in our little corner of the fandom.

Also, the announcement of the Jonsquel has some show fans occasionally poking their heads in, so when we get a release date for that, I think there are a lot of people ready to get the buzz again! If you want to dm, I’ll happily chat about GoT with you, or feel free to send asks with headcanons etc. Many of us still enjoy talking about jonsa even if we aren't spontaneously overflowing with ideas!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Seeing all your cool home updates && half-watching some HGTV w/my mom while drawing had a simple prompt idea if you might be interested! Basically HGTV reno show Jonsa - Sansa is a designer and finally gets a chance for her own show but loses Rob (her #1 contractor) to an injury before filming starts && Jon jumps in (either to help Rob /or/ the studio execs (maybe Targs?) throw him in) and the two have to work together somehow. Idk idk, just wanted to share! <3

ANON.

No, you have no idea, I already HAVE a house reno wip. It's not super long, but... yeah. I've got that.

Here, I'll post what I have written of it, since we CAN'T GET ONTO AO3.

this isn't exactly your prompt, though I do honestly love yours a lot and sort of want to change mine. If I changed mine, the show Sansa works on would definitely be like Rehab Addict, where she restores old homes to their prior state instead of making them "modern"

But mine is sort of similar? This snippet is just the set up and doesn't include the part where Sansa decides to start a youtube channel for her renovations, (a la WabiSabE, which I used to watch and was probably the inspiration for this fic when I first started writing it like a year ago lol), and everyone starts shipping her with her contractor Jon, who she keeps forcing to be in the videos because she can't really make them without him being in it...

.

Sansa winces as her car hits another bump and jolts her in her seat.

“You owe me,” she huffs out, hands tight around the wheel.

“I know, I know,” Robb's voice comes through her sound system and fills the car. He's distracted, she can tell, and she bites back a snippy comment. Robb's just so busy, he couldn't possibly get away.

That's not fair, the small part of her brain that's still being rational thinks. Of course Robb couldn't drop everything and come out to the middle of nowhere to deal with their Great Uncle Brynden's estate. Robb's got a new baby and his job.

Robb's got a baby, Arya's got her tournaments, Bran has school, and Rickon's still underage. All of her siblings have lives they can't get away from. All except her.

No significant other, no kids. A tenuous career that she can technically do from anywhere.

“Oh no,” she breathes, when the house finally comes into sight through the trees.

“What's wrong?” Robb asks, his full attention back on her.

“Robb,” she whines, the car coming to a pathetic, rolling stop on the overgrown gravel drive. “It's a mess.”

“A mess?”

She doesn't answer, too busy staring at the mansion in front of her. Or, what used to be a mansion, she thinks.

It's still vaguely house-shaped, but... The roof is missing shingles in multiple places, the windows all seem busted out. The steps up to the covered front porch are fine, but the porch itself has a massive sinkhole, and half the wood looks rotted and ready to crumble.

Gods, if this is what the outside looks like...

“What kind of a mess?” Robb asks. She's just about to start listing the many problems when she hears another car approaching.

“I've gotta go,” she tells Robb. “I think the lawyer's here.” She hangs up before Robb can answer, and watches the other car slowly emerge through the trees up the bumpy road, past the broken gates, and onto the circular gravel drive. It stops behind her and a man gets out. She gets out, too, phone clutched in her hand, just in case.

“Miss Stark?” the man asks, and his face splits into a kind smile when she nods. “Perfect, perfect. I'm Samwell Tarly. It's nice to finally meet you.”

Sansa moves forward to shake the lawyer's hand. He isn't what she was expecting. He's young, for one – maybe only a few years older than her. And he seems just as nice in person as he'd been over the phone. She didn't think lawyers came in nice.

“We should have met at your office,” she says, eyeing up the weeds sprouting from between the gravel and brushing against her ankles. “I didn't realize the road here would be so...”

Mr. Tarly laughs. “This place has been abandoned for quite some time,” he agrees. “I never met Brynden myself, but I’d heard about him. Apparently he decided to up and travel the world and left this…”

Sansa looks back at the crumbling mansion and feels her face scrunch up. She tries to smooth it out. “So, how fast do you think I can sell this?” she asks.

That’s when Mr. Tarly’s smile falters. “Well,” he starts, hesitant, “you see, it’s in such a poor state, I can’t imagine anyone would be willing to buy it.”

“But the land must be worth something? They can just knock it down and-”

“Ah,” Mr. Tarly winces, and Sansa’s sentence breaks off, unfinished. “I suppose you didn’t read all the fine print?” At the slow shake of her head, he grimaces. “Riverrun Manor is a historic property. You, legally, are not allowed to tear the structure down. Anything you do needs to go through lots of committee approvals…”

“So what you’re saying,” Sansa says, closing her eyes as reality crashes down around her, “is that literally no one is going to want to buy this.”

“Maybe if you find someone who’s both very rich, and very interested in Riverlands history?”

She opens her eyes and there must be a glare on her face, because Mr. Tarly winces again.

Then she turns back to the manor, and really looks at it this time. Beneath the grime and the moss and the crumbling wood, she can see what it used to be.

“What if I fixed it up a bit?” she asks, turning back to the lawyer. “What if I just did the major repairs, do you think someone would buy it then?”

She doesn’t want to do that, but it beats letting the property sit around even longer and paying the taxes on it. Or, worse, not paying the taxes and having that on her and her sibling’s financial records.

“I’m not a real estate agent,” Mr. Tarly responds, looking at the building thoughtfully. “But this is a good location, lots of historic stuff around. I wouldn’t doubt you could sell it if the building weren’t… well, that.” He waves his hand towards the manor.

“Alright,” she nods. “Maybe we should head to your office to do the paperwork, though? Then I’ll… I guess I’ll look for a contractor?”

Sam nods, and a bright smile lights his face again. “Oh, I know someone you can call!”

[charmtion]

Hi Charmtion, I really like your writing on jonsa, especially home truths! I was wondering if you ever wrote a jonsa fic that’s set in the Great Depression. Sansa and Joffrey are poor workers who get work on jons farm, Joffrey convinces Sansa to marry jon because he thinks that Jon is dying. Sansa slowly falls in love with him and we find out he’s not sick Joffrey just stupid.

I read it years ago and I can’t find it anywhere, I’d really appreciate your help, their writing from what I remember is similar to yours

thank you :)

hmm, it doesn’t ring a 🔔 unfortunately! I definitely didn’t write it, & I read so little fic I am not much use in helping you track the author down; an excellent story I read years ago was set in the same era, but Jonsa was v much a secondary ship, & Joffrey did not feature in it at all; I will put it in the tag in the hope someone finds it for you. 🫶🏼 x

[joanna-lannister]

💖 What made you start writing?

THANK YOU SO MUCH ILLY FOR THE ASK! ❤️✨

Well, I started very early. I used to write small stories back when I was a child, and I had also diaries, so writing has always been a hobby/passion. Anne Frank had also been a great inspiration for me. Then came fanfics, when I was around 11-12. I started writing a BTVS fic because I missed my favorite show at the time. It was such a stupid fic, but I entertained my friends with it. And then, a few years later, I found out what a fanfic was and I found out I wasn't the only one writing stories about my favorite characters. It was like a relief, and so I started writing more. But I had time where I struggled with writer's block and I was too shy to share my work. I remember publishing once a fic in French for Stargate SG-1 (I'm pretty sure it's still floating out there on FF(.)net 🙄). Then, I had a time where I stopped writing somehow, but the need to write came back with TVD, tho I only wrote one fic (never published). And then Game of Thrones came into my life... I started writing fics about Jonsa but same, never published. Also, I have a draft with modern!Rhaella killing Aerys 😂 But with Jaime and Cersei, I had so much ideas! I had to translate them on paper and share them with people. And that's how I dared to post my first fics. All of this to say, I wanted to put my favorite characters into situations and fanfics was the perfect medium for this.

[vivilove-jonsa]

Hello,

I hope that you are well.

I was wondering, will you keep writing/developing fics with Jonsa on AO3?

The stories that you have written so far are really great!

Have a nice day!

Hey DarkFriday1408,

This is really sweet to receive, thank you 💕💕💕

I wish I had an answer you want to hear but the truth is it’s unlikely at this time. I never say never and maybe someday I’ll get the itch to write more Jonsa.

However, what I figured I’d give a shot last year (writing romance novels and self publishing on Amazon) is going really well. It’s become a nice second income and I’ve started writing a new six-book series after finishing my first four novels. Obviously, this takes considerable time and effort that I used to pour into writing fanfic (but is now paying the mortgage 😅) so I’ll be focused on this for the coming 18 months I believe.

Sorry to disappoint but I appreciate the ask!

[st-clements-steps]

End of Year Fic Review

Thank you @thistle-and-thorn for the tag ♥️

1. what’s your ao3 account?

MymbleHowl

2. how many words did you write in total in 2022?

I had to estimate this, cos I published about 130,000 but some of that I wrote in 2021, and I’ve written about 20,000 unpublished words, so I’d reckon about 120,000??

3. how many fics did you publish in 2022 // multi-chapter vs. one-shots?

I finished publishing Near Mint (Greysnow High Fidelity set in 90s Glasgow), I added a chapter (or 2?) to my never finished WIP don’t worry, it’s my blood (environmental/political modern Jonsa), I published a little three chapter flawed 60s Jonsa, (based on the Bob Dylan song) tangled up in blue. I haven’t finished (Are you) The One That I’ve Been Waiting For? (20s Jonerys, kind of peaky blinders inspired). Oh and I haven’t finished assistance (modern theatre Daensa). I published 15 one shots, and one self indulgent 2 chapter Rhaegar wins, boys kiss thing.

4. what was your longest-fic // shortest fic?

Near Mint is the longest. After the Storm is the shortest (it’s really more a painting with 86 words attached)

5. Most popular? Least Popular?

Ooops I deleted this question, 20s Jonerys is the most popular, the modern Jon x Jeyne P is the least I’d say.

6. what fic didn’t perform as well as you thought it would?

Spank Me (it’s fluffy Jonerys smut), and maybe my Rhaelicent, Breathing Dreams (I kinda got my hopes up by that “it’s a live fandom” thing, which is fine so long as you don’t write a Great Gatsby inspired non story, that’s mainly atmosphere and clothes, and Alicent only gets kissed cos you have a headcanon that she is way more into giving than receiving, I would like to add that her giving is very sexy of her but…)

7. what fic performed way better than you thought it would?

The Grey King and the Dragon Nagga (it’s a tumblr fic that apparently some people read, I’m so confused)

8. what was your favourite fic you wrote in 2022?

Wolfish or Relinquishment (it’s the grief sex people)

9. what was your favourite fic that somebody else wrote in 2022?

I actually read a lot of stuff that was written before 2022 this year. In part because I was looking for stuff for @jonsnow-creative to reblog (probably should get back on that).

I love beta-ing, I love the fics I beta. So, Happiness by @salty-wench (Greysnow woven with gracefully with grief and humour), And Now My Watch Begins, by @evax3 (Jonerys canon divergence, Dany raised as a boy at Castle Black), and One by One the Walls Give Way by @owlsinathens (post show canon Greysnow, Jon and Theon begin to navigate their trauma through corsetry, among other things) are all stories I would shout about to the world . And are all in progress, so I’d love some more darlings (kisses).

I’m so glad I discovered you @thistle-and-thorn and the many crushed red flowers

@charmtion finished then comes blood almost a year ago, and I still think of it, and it’s cinematic and tense and wonderful

The other fic I want to shout about goes along with my shouting about The English, a song that will keep sky open in my mind, by @laiqualaurelote. It’s so rare for me that a piece of media convinces me to ship the canon pairing, I’m contrary, sorry. Anyway this story is beautiful and it came to me in a beautiful surprising way, (whilst I was a bit flu-delirious, so it seemed particularly magical).

Ooh and there’s a rhaelicent, what is it good for, by bluebaric, (it’s a barbed mid century arranged marriage au) I don’t know if they have a tumblr?

10. tag your friends so they can play as well!

Those lovelies I betaslut for, I already @ed them, they know who they are.

And @selkiewife @rainhalydia @team-mom-wannabe if you want to, also anyone else who wants to

[hilarychuff]

ao3 first lines

tagged by @mistysharks! check out theirs here

rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Something Down the Road Didn't Happen Yet

(this is a collection of stranger things au graphics/blurbs so just posting the first line of the first one, but it’s a robin/chrissy miss congeniality au lmao)

Over the years, Robin has worked stupidly hard to get as far as she has in the FBI. Her skills as a codebreaker were carefully honed, her fluency in now five different languages was hard-won, and it was no easy feat learning how to wrestle her stubbornly uncoordinated body into fighting shape so that she could throw a punch as good as the rest of the recruits. So when she botches the Russian op and finds herself yanked out of the field and plopped squarely on Assistant Director Hopper’s shit list, she’s desperate to make things right — not least of all because Steve has been put on the Miss United States case. Without her.

The Royal Records

(now this one is a jonsa/asoiaf princess diaries au where jon gets to be the princess 😌)

“Um,” Sansa says suddenly, the slightly higher pitch of her voice grabbing Jon’s attention as they walk side by side to school.

She’s been talking practically nonstop for the last five minutes, rambling really as she fills him in about her day yesterday, how Sister Mordane gave her a solo in choir, how Robb’s band practiced the same song for forty-five minutes straight at their uncle Benjen’s garage last night. He doesn’t mind. He’s liked just listening, actually.

I Remember (I Remember)

(jonsa canon-based au where jon meets alayne in the vale)

“That’s pretty,” Jon says, and her heart thumps hard in her chest. He must feel it, the way her pulse jumps, sending every inch of her skin zinging, but his face does not change one wink. 

Am I Making You Laugh (Am I The Joke)

(jonsa/asoiaf overboard au!!! drabble)

“Sansa,” Jon says, voice hard, flinty, and she flinches, freezes, but he doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t move closer than where he stands across the lawn.

He waits for her to look back at him, and when she finally does there’s a flash of something across his face, but then it’s gone, gone too fast for her to recognize it.

In Any World (In Any Way)

(this one is my jonsa/asoiaf au graphics/blurbs collection so again just grabbing the first line of the first one, which is a jonsa bring it on au)

Finally — finally! — it's Sansa's time to shine. Now that Margaery Tyrell has graduated, gone off to college, and relinquished her grasp on the captain position, Sansa's getting her chance to step into the role and prove that she too can lead the RCH Knights to a cheerleading championship victory. But being captain isn't as easy as it looks, and the first practice of the year ends all too quickly when Beth Cassel falls and breaks her ankle. 

I Carry It In Mine

(jonsa/asoiaf canon-based soulmate/soulmark au)

It’s a surprise when Jon’s mark comes in. Old Nan had said that when the Children of the Forest ruled the land, the old gods gave everyone a soulmate, but these days they’re rare. When he wakes one day in his tenth year, he doesn’t expect to find a name over his heart. Robb has been ten for months and hasn’t had a name appear, and Theon was still unmarked by his eleventh name day. The both of them are to be lords one day, the leaders of two of the great houses, and he is no one, just some bastard. But when the feeling of a burning in his chest interrupts his slumber, something deep inside of him knows what it means before he even opens his eyes.

Grant Sees a Ghost

(ooo this is my agents of shield haunting of hill house au drabble lmao)

It’s been a long day, fruitless, and Ward is tired as he wrestles two armloads of bags through the door to his apartment building. He hadn’t slept well last night, not in that random woman’s house, not with the specter of a specter looming over him. Much as he’d made a second career out of writing about them, Ward knows ghosts aren’t real, and yet sleeping in a room where someone claimed to have spotted one, trying to catch one on camera — It always left him unsettled the next day, itchy.

Howl

(this is my sansa/jonsa/asoiaf scream au!!! very recently had some really good thoughts about howl 3 but here’s the first bit of howl 1)

“Joff? What — what are you doing here?”

Technically, Sansa’s boyfriend wasn’t allowed at the Stark house anymore. He’d been effectively banned ever since he’d gotten into an actual, honest-to-gods fist fight with Arya, and though Sansa knew her little sister had been the one to throw the first punch, she hadn’t wanted to argue. Things had been tense between the Stark sisters for too long, and after their parents died — Well, it wasn’t worth fighting anymore.

Door to Door Delivery

(jonsa/asoiaf while you were sleeping au drabble)

“You look cold,” Jon tells her as they walk along the Chicago River.

“Hmm?” she asks, and it’s only once he brings it up that she notices it’s true, she’s shivering.

Things We Lost in the Flames, What We Found in the Ashes

(agents of shield missing scenes in s2, mack pov re: jemma)

He figures he should’ve been expecting something like this after May shot Hunter in order to keep Simmons safe, but it still takes him a moment to put the pieces together and realize what’s happening.

“You know, there are a lot of fire extinguishers in here,” Coulson says evenly as he looks around the garage. “You should be careful around Simmons.”

gonna skip tagging this time but anyone who wants to do it should!

[zalrb]

In the case of fics, I'm curious: don't you publish on ff net or ao3? For example, I find it a bit strange to do it here on Tumblr because I don't like to comment on tags but putting my comment on a reblog also seems rude and I feel like it breaks the aesthetic (and I saw several authors specifically say that they didn't like it when the people towards that but once again: where should I leave my comment?). Is it better to let you know that we liked it by stuffing your question box? 2/2

Hey! So a couple of things:

(and I saw several authors specifically say that they didn't like it when the people towards that but once again: where should I leave my comment?) For example, I find it a bit strange to do it here on Tumblr because I don't like to comment on tags but putting my comment on a reblog also seems rude

which honestly feels like a new phenomenon because it used to be like this:

combined with anons sending asks. And the Stelena fandom were always much more stingy with doing that than say the Bonkai fandom but it would still be

combined with anons sending asks and having conversations/asking questions about the different parts of my fics but which has now kind of just turned into "that was nice, do this next".

In the case of fics, I'm curious: don't you publish on ff net or ao3?

With this, I do post on ao3 and when it's my Jonsa fic, sure, absolutely I get comments, it's not huge but it's fairly consistent especially since I haven't updated in a year

if it's a TVD especially a Stelena fic? It's worse than here. Three fic series combined don't even make up half of what a single Jonsa series generates.

and I have to delete comments like that Bamon person who said that ao3 was for Bamon and not Stelena (lmao weird).

I publish on tumblr first because tumblr is how I started writing ff and this is where I actually have a community of people asking me for updates or asking for things and then engagement is fairly low when I do it, and I don't just mean notes. So I would like asks about the fics to continue, it would just also be great if the amount of notes reflected the apparent level of interest :)

[branwendaughterofllyr]

WIP WORD SEARCH GAME

tagged by the lovely @setnet who gave me the words:

river | help | often | shimmer | interests

I really only have one big WIP, so we’ll see what I scrounged up 😁

river - from “The Golden Slipper,” original

Katenka never thought she would feel sorry for a fish. Yet, when Papa handed her the bucket, she felt a stab of sympathy. The gleams of green scales circled continually against the dark wood planks, and when she saw how the pike-perch’s long striped fan of a fin knocked against the side of the bucket over and over again, Katenka knew she was going to be hungry tonight.

Mother peered over Taisiya’s shoulder, looking into the second bucket. “Osip, how much did you waste on these?

“Nothing, my love.” Papa grinned, his nose red as his lips. “It was actually in return for a favor. I lent a fisherman a hand last spring, hauling up his catch from the river, so he gave me these fish as thanks.”

Mother stood up, hands on her hips. “You worked for someone without getting payed!”

Papa shook his head and laughed. “It was just a small little favor, my love.” He grabbed Mother and kissed her. “We get what we give.”

help - from untitled Jonsa fic, ASOIAF

Her mother had taught Sansa how to swim when she was still too small to be scared. She remembered her mother taking Sansa into her arms, and lowering them both into the waters of the hot spring. Her small feet kicked out, as she explored the feeling of weightlessness. Sansa held her mother’s hands while she treaded water, helped up by both the water and her mother’s grip.

Catelyn showed Sansa how to float, to lay back and gaze at the frame the trees of the godswood made against the sky.

Sansa used to practice holding her breath, spending long moments completely below the surface. Curling her feet up, she wondered.

often - from “a poison tree,” HoTD/F&B

Cousin Rhaenyra may have Syrax, but she never goes anywhere on the dragon, not really, not like Lady Jeyne who always has the dust of somewhere else on her, with her steady horse and coin for ships. She was always going to and fro on her own business, from Maidenpool to Duskendale to Harrenhal and back again. She may go wherever she likes, even to Gulltown, simply because she wants to, and there is no one tell her different.

Alyssa thought she might very much like to travel, if it was in the company of Lady Jeyne, who never laughs but smiles often.

She had told her father that she might like to be a widow, and he had laughed. “Already plotting to do your poor husband to-be in? That’s the sort of thing you might get in trouble for.”

shimmer - from “a poison tree”

It was a child’s harp, made from a pale golden wood, with ravens carved up the pillar. Alyssa ran a hand along the strings, listening to the shimmering sound. “Is this for me?” she asked in wonderment.

“Indeed, it is,” Lady Jeyne said with warmth in her voice. “It is the same one I learned on as girl, and it’s been gathering dust at Harrenhal for years now. I thought it might be worth making it sing again.”

“Thank you, Lady Smallwood. But,” she said, frowning, “I do not know how to play.”

“I thought I might be the one to teach you.”

interests - from “a poison tree”

“I have never sought the crown, Rhaenyra. I have no taste for ambition, not for myself or my child."

“Nothing is final, as you said, Uncle. Have you not told me before that you had my best interests at heart? Your daughter is a Targaryen, a princess. She should be married to one of our own.”

Great fun!

tagging @cappymightwrite, @woodswit and @notbloodraven with the words and variants:

 salt | crackle | soft | hover | run 

[mollyraesly]

Hi. I am the same anon who asked about the Boyfriend series for Jily. I am so glad to have found you. How have you been? First of all I'd like to say that that series is my favorite Jily fanfic of all time! I keep going back to it every once in a while. I kept thinking about it for so long after reading it. Thank you for writing such a beautiful series. Do you still write? I couldn't find your latest work on ao3 post 2011 and only one in 2017. Thank you again for sharing your writing with the rest of us ♥️. Hope you have a great 2022!!!

Thank you, anon! Sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I always forgot to check messages.

I’m so glad that series continues to resonate with people! I think it was something that I just needed to write at the time, and it remains very close to my heart.

I still write—but a lot for work and I haven’t written anything Jily for a few years at this point. I did go over to A03 and have a few GoT/Jonsa fics there too. But it’s been a while.

I don’t know if/when I’ll do more. But thank you and I hope you’re doing well!

💚💚

[esther-dot]

I was gonna ask about "you don't have to love me" but it sounds like that's coming soon. So: "Feathers" bc I have *no* idea what that could be!

Ask game

That's a fic I began years ago, and I couldn't finish it, couldn't bring myself to delete it either. It was set right after the Battle for Winterfell, and in this AU, the dead Starks rose from their graves so Sansa did have to kill an undead Rickon. At the time, a lot of people said that should have happened in GoT, and I thought it was a great idea -- for suffering purposes. So, she is absolutely traumatized and a little bit injured due to a cave in, so it's called Feathers in part, due to most of the Jonsa interactions taking place in her bed:

He walks away without answering. He’s not going to her room, if that’s what Davos was insinuating. He isn’t her brother anymore, it wasn’t appropriate to begin with, not seeing her that way, not without her knowing. He wasn’t going to her room, not intentionally, but he finds himself walking past his door, nodding at Brienne, entering her room anyway. He stands there, one step in, and isn’t sure he should move forward, that he can. She clung to him, wanted him near, but she doesn’t know, and what would she want if she did? He thinks of Daenerys, feels bile in his throat. Thinks of Rhaegar, feels the same. Dragons want wolves, take them to their lairs, but what do the wolves want? Sansa stirs, murmurs something intelligible, so he walks closer, allows her fingers to grasp his wrist, pull him to the bed. He sits there, shuddering, knowing this is terribly selfish, even if it is what she wants, but her fingers are still wrapped around his wrist in a silent request, so he lays the sword next to the bed, pulls off his boots, and turns to her. The firelight dances in her eyes, the flames drown in unshed tears. “Wasn’t he beautiful? When he was little, he had curls and his laugh--if you heard it, you had to laugh too.” Jon doesn’t need to ask who, and now, he couldn’t speak if he tried. Her little gasp as she turns her face into her pillow to hide her tears is the only other sound either makes for the rest of the night. She sleeps again, eventually, but he can’t close his eyes without seeing Rickon running across the battlefield to him, without thinking he nearly has him, without hearing the arrow hit, watching him fall. His hands are shaking again, and he hears the thunder of hooves, feels the press of bodies, is suffocated by mud. Sansa is buried in stones he cannot lift. The dead surround him. The dragon opens his mouth to burn him alive. As he lays in the feather bed in his father’s—uncle’s—castle, he is dying.

Lots of pain. :)

Thank you for the ask!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Do you have any tips for starting to write fanfic? I would love to write Jonsa but I always feel like I don't have any ideas or that the ideas I have aren't original if that males sense?

Thank you for all your wonderful writing you share with us!

Anon!!!!

My advice is - WHO CARES!!

Is your idea unoriginal? WHO CARES! The thing is, the fic WILL be original because it's YOU writing it and not someone else (obviously as long as you're not fully plagiarizing lmao, I mean in general). I am not kidding when I say I can read the same "idea" a million times if it's my jam. Salty teens? Sign me tf up. Fake dating? YES PLEASE. Arranged marriage? Love it. I have written all of these things and yet I would gladly read more that anyone else writes. And there are plenty of other genres I will read no matter what.

And I bet if you ask any person that reads fanfic, they will tell you the same. They have certain tropes that they will read over and over and over and over...

If you need more convincing - take the fic I'm currently writing. Is it that original? No, not really. Is it deep? Nope. I'm writing it because I needed something super light after mongrel heart and it's fun for ME.

That's advice I've given before - write what you want to read. It will be obvious if YOU are having fun (and not, say, writing something because you think it will be a hit with an audience).

And now, what may actually be my biggest piece of advice - write something, without the expectation that you will post it and others will read it.

The first fic I ever wrote for this fandom (after 10 years of not writing at all) sat around in my head for about a month before one night, unable to sleep because of a really bad anxiety spiral, I sat there in the dark, for hours, just writing out thousands of words of this story idea. It was only when I was about 3/4 done that I went, ok, maybe I will actually post this, just because it's already written and why not, and I created my ao3 account.

The lovely thing about fic writing is that you do not need to be original, you don't even need to be great. Just have fun, and others will have fun with you!

I really hope you do write, anon, if only for yourself, though I'm sure people would love if you did post it.

[winterwakesthewolf]

Tag 9 People you want to get to know better!

I was tagged by @jonsaslove and I feel so honored to be tagged by a fellow Jonsa diehard and Jonsa writer! If you haven't checked out their fics, doooooo it you won't regret it!

Favorite Color: black and green

Currently Reading: A Dance with Dragons (I know, I know!) but next on my list is Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler. I've heard amazing things about it and Kindred is a work of hers that I've read multiple times and is absolutely riveting so I'm excited to dive into another one of her works.

Last Song: Iron Man by Black Sabbath (lolzzz)

Last Series: the latest seasons of Stranger Things and Peaky Blinders. I've been a fan of both shows for years and I felt that the previous seasons of both of them were duds so I was happy that the PB one didn't suck and I actually really loved S4 of ST (I even went down an Eddie Munson brain rot rabbit hole of fics and I'm struggling to get out).

Last Film: Outlaw King (2018) It's been on my to-watch list for years and I finally watched it recently and it's so good. Like, it's a very good film IMO and apparently pretty accurate according to some historians on youtube

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: I've gotta say the same as @jonsaslove because I'm a huge foodie. I love all three, buuuuut I really love to bake and I'm honestly really great baker (it took me yeeeeaaarrs to admit I am good at anything so let me have this), so maybe sweet???

Currently Working On: oooooooooh boy do I wanna finally let the cat outta the bag?! I don't wanna jinx it!?? It's been literal years since I published anything on A03 and it's honestly bc life has not been kind to me the last few years and I've had ZERO time to write, but a few months ago I got a really great idea for a sort of modern jonsa fic based off of a movie I loved as a kid in the 90's and I want to complete it before I start publishing and that's all I'm gonna say about that... I ALSO have a part 2 of my one shot (WTBMB) that has been sitting in my google docs for a very long time and I need to just bite the bullet and publish it already. Sadly, I don't have anything new for my first fic that is unfinished. I just... I cannot seem to find ANY inspiration for it whatsoever and I'd rather it go unfinished for a while or indefinitely than finish it in a way that feels rushed or uninspired or boring, ya know? And besides, it was my first fic and whenever I've gone back and read any of it its like cringe city in my brain.

Tagging: @elegantwoes @jonisawarg @branwendaughterofllyr @istumpysk @thewolvescalledmehome @esther-dot @gwidhiel @riahchan @agentrouka-blog sorry if you were tagged twice, and obvi you don't have to participate if you don't want to!