“Maisie and I have the purest form of true, true friendship. She’s been my rock. We are kind of the only two people who know what it feels like to go through this very scenario from pretty much the same background, and ending up where we are and kind of finding ourselves as we go. I think that’s why people respond so well to our friendship, I guess. They see the true, pure love between us.” - Sophie Turner
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Big marshmallow heart that I am, I took your potentially angst-ridden line and made something fluffy :)
**
Jon tries to focus on his lunch and the notes he’d been annotating for history but it’s not easy. He hadn’t intended to overhear this argument. He’s certain she’d rather this occur anywhere else but sometimes it happens this way. He should know. Ygritte seemed to enjoy their blowups being as noisy and public as possible.
He scowls and wonders if he should do something. It’s not really his place…is it?
“Someday, you’re going to realize your one mistake was giving me up and I can’t wait to see you come crawling back so I can laugh in your face!”
Jon can’t quite believe his ears hearing this tripe coming out of Hardyng’s sorry mouth. If anyone’s ever deserved to be dumped, it’s this guy. For three months, he’s been dating Sansa, dating the sweetest, most beautiful girl on campus. And for three months, the charming pretty boy’s been needling her insecurities, belittling her in the name of ‘just kidding’ and making eyes at other girls behind Sansa’s back.
It’s about all Jon’s been able to stand but it’s not been his place to interfere. He’s just a friend if he can claim that much even. He’s her chemistry partner and they’ve met at the library a couple of times to hash out essays for literature together. They’ve developed an easy rapport, a comradery but sometimes when they’re together he almost thinks she might feel those sparks like he does.
Sansa is standing tall and poised in the face of Hardyng’s little tantrum. What a douche. But he’s surrounded by his frat brothers and she’s alone. She shouldn’t have to be alone.
Jon sidles up beside her, not wanting to step in unless she needs him but wanting her to know he’s there. He doesn’t say anything. She notices him anyway and gives him a flicker of a smile, the kind that makes his stomach flip and his chest tighten up.
“Giving you up a mistake?!” she snorts in a very un-Sansa like manner. It’s really kind of cute. “I will be celebrating coming to my good sense at last tonight, you egotistical prick.” It’s super cute the way her voice drops when she says ‘prick.’ Jon’s well aware she’s not much of a curser.
Hardyng is though and he says something so vile the next second that Jon cannot stand to the side a moment longer. “Apologize to the lady,” he growls and somehow Hardyng’s on the ground and Jon’s fist is inexplicably sore. Admittedly, he has a bit of a temper.
He looks up and figures this is it, that Hardyng’s friends are all going to jump him and it was nice knowing her while it lasted. Maybe he’ll confess his love and admiration for her on his deathbed.
But none of them moves. One of them actually kind of laughs.
Sansa’s busy calling him a great fool and lecturing him about how he can’t just hit someone like that. She’s also trying not to giggle.
He doesn’t even notice when Hardyng and his friends slink off. He’s busy making up his mind and screwing up his courage as she gingerly inspects his hand.
“Can I buy you a coffee, Sansa? I mean, if you want to talk, I’d love to buy you a coffee and just listen if you like. Or if you’re hungry, there’s a place a few blocks over we could grab some tacos or…I’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go.”
“Anywhere, huh?”
He nods and her grin’s making that stomach flipping and chest tightening increase by ten times at least.
“Yeah, Jon. Some dinner would be nice and then maybe some coffee after if you don’t mind.”
Giving her up would be any man’s greatest mistake and it’s one Jon will never make if she’s willing to give him half a chance.
Bloodsport is nothing to them. Well, it’s not nothing to Ned, but he’s a man who follows orders. Or is it Cersei he’s following, assassin long since gone rogue? They constantly find themselves on opposite sides, pistols drawn—but they are together, in glamorous and gritty cities all over the world, and there are better ways to resolve antagonism, anyway.
excerpt:
"You stole my kill.” He spoke when it was just the two of them in the mud room, of all places. Elegant Cersei surrounded by dripping umbrellas and muddy boots.
"Do you expect an apology?" She circled him as if he was prey. "You'll be sorely disappointed."
"I don't know what to expect. I didn't expect you here. You're supposed to be in Amsterdam." Instantly he regretted the clumsy words, as her eyes widened and glittered with delight.
Post-canon, though feel free to ignore whatever aspects of the ending that suck (so most of it, I guess?). Sansa is QitN and Jon calls Sansa "my queen", only she recoils from the memories of all the times she heard that come out of his mouth.
thanks for the request!! i hope you enjoy!
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It's been a long, trying day and she supposes it's her right as queen to have a bath drawn so late into the night. Though she feels somewhat guilty watching the maids fill up the copper tub with buckets of steaming water, the moment she sinks into it's rose scented depths, she knows she's made the right choice.
Waving away the other handmaidens, it is only Shae that she gives leave to remain and her most loyal lady takes up her time putting away the gown from that day and preparing both her nightgown and fur lined robe, hanging both before the fire to warm before Sansa slips into them later. It is Shae alone that she can tolerate after a day such as this, though she suspects Shae longs to find out what's upset her this day simply so she might handle it on her behalf. Sansa can't help but to smile- Shae forgets that Winterfell is quite unlike King's Landing but it warms her heart to know that the older woman cares as much as she had back then.
She sighs, sinking further into the hot water, just beginning to allow herself to unwind when she hears the knock to her door. Shae crosses the room, dipping behind the sheet that blocks the young queen's bath from those who might step into the room and the first thing she hears is her sigh of disapproval. "The queen is in the bath," Shae says to whoever stands at the door and Sansa can already picture her with her arms folded over her chest, dark eyes peering at the visitor with indignation.
"But..."
Sansa moves fast, sloshing water over the sides of her tub in her effort to sit upright before she hears the door close. "Shae." She calls out, voice choked, eyes wild when Shae steps around the curtain once more. "Let him in," she says softly, ignoring the fact that she's naked in the bath, ignoring the fact that it's late into the night. "Please." She softens and Shae narrows her eyes for only a moment before she sighs and turns back around, disappearing once again to find the young man that had knocked.
Her heart is fluttering fast within her chest as she rises up from the tub, stepping out into the cold air of the room bringing goosebumps to her skin. She shivers into her nightgown and it's just as she's tugging her robe close around her that she hears the door open again. "Just a moment, then." Shae's voice says a moment before she ducks her head around the sheet, ensuring the young woman was decent enough for a visitor. Though she's never met this man, she knows who he is, the Stark in him was undeniable after all.
When the sheet comes down, it's Jon that stands there in her doorway, his dark eyes widening at the sight of her. Sansa sucks in a breath, blinking fast as tears rise to cling to her lashes. "Jon..." She whispers his name, the name that's not been far from her thoughts this whole long year without him. He's the same as always- though with wilder hair and more scruff along his jaw than she's ever before seen. But he looks at her with those deep set eyes and though she's stood in Wintefell all this time, she finally feels home.
Though the only thing he can think to do is take her into his arms, Jon knows there's something first he must do. And so he crosses the room and bows low to her, before slowly sinking to one knee before her, head down, gaze on the floor. Even here, with her fresh from the bath, she is every inch the queen he had known she would be. "My queen..." He murmurs, his gaze locked on the trailing hem of her nightgown. There's hundreds of thoughts racing through his mind and though he had what felt like a dozen speeches to give to her, he can think of none of them now.
"Don't call me that."
Jon's face snaps up, her tone sharp, her gaze even sharper. It only takes a moment for her to soften though, her blue eyes full of unshed tears. She remembers who he last called my queen and she shudders, feeling like it is a bad omen to hear him call her the same. Reaching out, she offers him her hand, helping pull him to his feet. "What do you wish for me to call you then, your grace?" He tries again, this time pulling a chuckle from Sansa's lips a moment before she's falling into his open arms.
"Call me by my name."
"Alright then... Sansa..." The sound of her name upon his lips sends chills racing down her spine, pleasure seeping into her bones with a warmth like the summer sun. His arms tighten their hold upon her and she sinks into his embrace, knowing there were hundreds of things to ask, hundreds of things she needed to know. But right then, right there, all that mattered was how tightly he held onto her.
Cersei x Rhaegar - After Rhaegar crowns Cersei his Queen of Love and Beauty, he spirits her away and secretly weds her even as the Seven Kingdoms descend into war over her abduction. She bears him a child, and LIVES...
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All these winning pairs are my babies and I would die for them, but let me light a whole ass candelabra for Arya/Tommen because my little hellcat/pussycat pairing was clearly too subversive for this world. I guess I'll just have to go and reread the five fics that are currently on AO3 for the nth time, lol.
afksdjfaskl i wasn’t sold on them at first but by the time they were eliminated?? dude i was all ! in !!!
flibbertigiblet: Real talk: I have had a hard time finding a GoT podcast I can stand to listen to consistently because of exactly this kind of attitude displayed by the majority of podcasters I've come across.
I like Screen Junkies, because even though there’s some stupid Sansa stuff [especially beginning of show Sansa], they at least tend to be like, “I mean, she’s thinking pragmatically about stuff.”