#stcrmswithskin

[childprxnce]

it’s pride! ask merith to kiss you. he’ll gladly accept, even if he’s confused about why people are asking for kisses

[wiredcapability]

‘ only nineteen, but my mind is older. ‘ / Sansa

Negan didn't know much about Sansa Stark, but he didn't doubt those words even for a moment. He'd heard one or two stories, sure, and being married to Ramsay Bolton would have aged anyone.

❝ Well, I don't doubt that shit at all, my Lady. I mean, being HIS wife? I bet that shit's aged you AT LEAST a decade! ❞ His smile grew wider as he looked over her.

❝ If you don't mind my saying, though? You DAMN sure don't look it. ❞

[badasshybridqueen]

It’s the bounce of the bed that alerts her to her Alana’s presence - Hope is far to small to get out of her crib herself. She pops open one eye and grins. “ Hey you, you’re up early,” she shifts the blanket back a bit,  “ come on in.” 

@stcrmswithskin  Hit the ❤️ for birthday things

[strengthanddevotion]

@stcrmswithskin liked for Jon and Wylla

“It’s my brother you’re looking for.” Jon says automatically, newcomers to winterfell often mistook him for Robb, not knowing the boy resembled Catelyn over Jon. “I’m the bastard, Jon.” He hoists the saddle up onto the first horse and looks over at the woman. “Robb favors his mother. He’s probably off with some girl though so good luck finding him.” 

[astormofagirl]

It’s been far too long since her sister has been back to Winterfell, so when the news arrives that Arya is returning withing the week Sansa has the castle prepped for a welcoming feast that’s the largest thing to grace the walls of Winterfell in quite some time. The now queen waits in the yard, Podrick at her side as the party makes their way into Winterfell, Sansa’s gaze falling on her sister with a smile. 

@stcrmswithskin  Hit the ❤️ for a starter.

[timeripe]

from >>this<< // @stcrmswithskin

It was hitting her now--all of it, all at once, crashing down over her and through her chest. 

He had promised to come back; neither of them had specified how, had they?

No, no no no, the implication was that he would come back to her ALIVE. When they had spoken, when everyone around them was adjusting their armor and receiving favors and kisses from their loved ones, she had dragged him aside so they could speak alone. She had demanded to know why there were laughs and murmurs surrounding the two of them. They had both confessed, out loud or otherwise, that there was some sort of affections between them, and this was the culprit behind the humor at their expense. And she told him dead men can’t make jokes, so he had to come back to her and leave them with their silence. He’d promised to try, and with her refusal to accept that as satisfactory, she’d given him a silver shard.

The same silver shard he’d tucked into his leathers, close to his chest, patting it so proudly even though he had no possible inkling of what it could be; she hadn’t told him and she had meant to upon his return.

“You can’t--” she barely whispered, her voice stolen before it could produce sound. “I have no tolerance for liars, Podrick Payne.”

Stars above, he was so still now, more silent than he’d ever been. When her hand fell to his chest, she felt it there, thrumming under her touch even with everything between it and her skin.

This has to work, she pleaded. You told me it would work.

It will, came the slow reply. But--

I don’t care the cost.

With the next blink of her eyes, she felt Turis assume control. The shard was pulled free, sharpening even more in her hand. As a passive being in her own body, Arelia watched as it was pierced through his skin, sliding through it as if it were made of only snow. And after placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, Turis compressed his chest once before it crackled silver. He wasn’t torn apart as Arelia had been, but the ichor was just as much a part of him now as it was for her.

The worry was shared between the two of them while they waited, The distortion to her voice startling her for a moment when Turis borrowed it.

“You keep her waiting, as if breaking her heart once was nothing. Open your eyes; you are not lost to the winter just yet.”

[boltxnbastard]

#Positivity Protocol! 😄💙☀️ Send this to ten muns who you think portray their muses so damn well and are just generally awesome!

SIMSSS ;-; ily sm !!! I’m gonna tag some lovelies here cause it’s easier !!

Here’s some awesome, amazing, unbelievably talented people !!!

@twiicetheheart @lordnegan @ancientandforevcr @killthebxy @wineinthewidow​ @neitherknightnorlady @fircandfury @akingslayerx @soldier306 @venusexstillhaven​ @theagentturnedwanderer @contractualsarcasm @kingwholost​ @igniscruor @pykraken @methdrip @redjackettm @leechcd​ @epheemere @whofavorsfire @jaimelannisterthings @longmayshereign-cersei​

[snowmcid]

Send 😘🍺 to drunkenly kiss my muse! ( stcrmswithskin Podrick )

Memes || No longer accepting || @stcrmswithskin

Send 😘🍺 to drunkenly kiss my muse!

It was slow and gentle. Every brush of skin, every look given a pause. His hand on her cheek, the moment before his eyes closed and fell upon her own and she could have drowned in that feeling. The wine was coursing through their veins, she knew that, but this feeling was hardly novel. How long had they walked together in the godswood? How many nights had they sat in comfortable silence or laughed so much her sides hurt? How long had they waited for this?

“Prodrick” she said, pulling from him for only a matter of heartbeats, her eyes moving over his face - but whatever it was that she was searching for, she found it and when they kissed again it was she that took his face in her hands, that pressed her lips against his, her body pressing into him and her eyes falling closed. She wanted this, she wanted him, and the rest of it be damned.