#mad westeros

Don Draper’s face is a content warning! Ahh I’m sorry your REM drifted off into Mad Westeros it is a terrifying place. And I hope that CerseiBetty gets out of the dungeon because it is a lonely place {although I wouldn’t say no to NolanJaime; ugh Gabriel Mann why so attractive}

But FAT KING DON ahahahahha Ours Is The Fury Andissueswithfemalesexuality

i’m dying over these hybrid names

Mrysally

Meganery Tyrell

“Winter is coming-buy a sable coat” LOL! Betty is such a perfect match for the North though, in my Mad!Westeros headcanon she’s much more Northron-born than Don. And all your thoughts about Betty/Arthur I second heartily. Weiner’s crush on Don ughh

Betty of House Hoffstadt, Queen in the North! With Polly as her faithful Direwolf!  XD

winspired by this photoset, lower left gif.

gabriel mann quietsiege mad westeros betty in truth always wanted a husband who was the brother she never had the strong smart brother she never had instead weak petulant william whom she had to kill to claim the crown

@quietsiege:

OMG his hair is so pretty (also he was already in his late 30s DOES HE DRINK THE BLOOD OF VIRGINS OR WHAT?! I always feel so bad for January when people call Arthur “Betty’s YOUNGER suitor!” ) Also, Betty murdering William <3 <3 <3

 (I hope you’re aware that my Asoiaf knowledge consists of: a) the first book, b)the chapter whith the Crypt Sex, because who on the Internet has not read Crypt Sex? c) Mad Westeros, which of course is my favorite. I am fairly sure I fail at faux Medieval jargon!)(also playing with tenses in a language that is not yours might be a terrible idea…)

  Once, they had gone riding together. “Your Grace seems unhappy” he had observed, while he helped her off her horse. “Riding with someone who can’t keep my pace has this effect on me”, the Queen had replied curtly, fingers curling around the leather of her riding crop. He was as inept on a horse as in battle, and Elisabeth wondered  if such a display of unmanliness was a calculated disguise, something that was meant to distract his enemies from how dangerous he could be. After all, he owned almost all the Kingdoms her husband ruled in name, and was aware of most of the Lords’ secrets. Yet, a part of her felt drawn to him, and another had to bite her lower lip to prevent herself from using the riding crop on the slender figure at her side. Her coldness did not affect him, as he leaned on her to whisper in her ear “You are profoundly unhappy, I can tell” .”Then”, Elisabeth had replied, moving away “you are simply unfamiliar with the customs of the North”

 She remembers that moment while she lays in his bed, running her fingers through his silky, blond hair. “The air of the Capital seems to agree with Your Grace” he remarks, as if he has been reading her mind ” you don’t appear to be as Nordic anymore”

 Elisabeth perches herself up on her elbow, and reaches for a cup of wine ” I am merely doing what is my duty as a ruler” she said primly “Being here is indispensable. And my Hand, of all people, should be aware of it”

 In truth, her life has changed so much since the tragic hunting accident that befell her husband  that she can barely recall the person she used to be. That morning, before he left to join the hunting party, the King had been unusually affectionate, and the Queen had poured him a cup of wine with her own hands, in one of the rare moments in which no one was with them in their rooms.

aieee sorry this is so small and puny but here is more Westeros Joan for your troubles:

The earliest memory Joan keeps is the sound of silk: the swish of a drape in warm summer winds, the sweep of a skirt against an ankle, the crinkling of a pillow case against her idle hands. The brothel her mother worked in was a good one — the girls were well-clothed and sweetly mannered, although the house was not quite wealthy enough for jewelry. The only clinking sound Joanie recalls is that of coins, and maybe laughter. Perhaps being cradled in veils seeded her skill for knowing all varieties of cloth by touch.

One day, amid gold-stitched emerald silk sheets that she handpicked for the king's chamber (all the better to match her skin), Roger asks her if she ever wonders about her mother.

After some hesitation, Joanie tells him the memory, about fabric and curves and light. "It's better if we're apart," Joan says, her hair fanned on the pillow. Her mother had taught her to lie on her side when entertaining men ("some like the front, some like the back. Figure out which one he wants to see".), but to sleep on her back when alone ("settles the breasts in. Keeps them firmer, longer.") 

"Aren't most things?" Roger asks as the shadow from the swaying canopy cuts a smirk across his face. He puts his lips to the flesh above her rib, nipping like a cub. "I shouldn't have asked."

trudy also starts to go back to her teenage ways just a little and fawn and linger too long until pete one day explodes with an entirely inappropriate “you know he’d NEVER use those pretty lips on you in any way you can REALLY appreciate”

AS LONG AS WE TALK ABOUT PETE AND TRUDY TOO IT COUNTS AS NOT BLOGGING ABOUT THOMAS extension AU after Pete’s parents are dead he lets Thomas come back to live with him his wife and their daughters and they bicker constantly [which Trudy loves]

EEeeeEEeee you're all caught up with GoT? LET THE AU PARTY BEGIN:

Joan/Roger - "It must be terrible, an intelligent whore," Roger muses, scraping his teeth against her collarbone, then huffing slightly when her corset doesn't tear on the first tug (she's sewed it too carefully for that). "No more terrible than a foolish king, your Grace," Joan says with just enough lilt for the jibe to pass, and just enough heft of skin for all conversation to pass. She thinks about that exchange, several weeks later, when the king is murdered and she flees from the palace with jewels laced in her cloak and a dagger she never learned to use. 

Don/Betty - Fifteen-year-old Betty sees him and desires him with the splitting sensation of a hewn log, or a hull breached. Her brother notes her eyes following the sullen stranger and scoffs, "Did you want a husband or a hound?" She seals the crack in her composure (already broken) and says smooth as milkwater, "I was unaware there was a difference." 

Man, SCREW Robert, leave those nice Art Deco buildings alone! …and are the Starks out in the Bronx or somesuch? The Bronx is the only borough connected to the mainland and not an island.