Please Read This!

Please read this!

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Y/n is so lucky 😤😑

Stubborn

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: ‘Where do you think you’re going’ and ‘Despite what you think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself’ from prompt list #1

Summary: your pregnancy is taking its toll...

Warnings: pregnancy hormones

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To say you were sick of being pregnant was an understatement. As you entered your eighth month of pregnancy, you couldn’t escape the stifling watch of your husband, whether it was his own steely gaze or that of the servants who would scurry back to him if you dared lift anything even remotely heavy. Your bump was no longer a bump; it was a veritable mountain which you still struggled to manoeuvre sometimes. The Maester visited you twice daily, and if you crossed paths, he coerced you into an additional check up. His herbs and potions were getting increasingly disgusting, and even the thought of milk of the poppy- or milk in general- made you nauseous.

“My lady, are you sure you want the corset?” You looked at one of the maids helping you dress and nodded.

“Yes, but not that one,” you said gently. “I’ve had a larger one made with special ties. It won’t lace as tightly, but it’s better than nothing,” with a lot of faffing, you and your maids managed to get you dressed in a loose fitting linen gown and flat shoes. Dismissing your maids, you left your chamber and set off to the Tower of the Hand.

Although you hated to admit it, climbing the tower was a mistake, and only a quarter of the way up, you were panting and your ankles were aching. Forcing yourself up the winding stairs, you clutched at the wall, your entire world spinning. Giving up, you slid down the wall to settle on the cool stone steps, pushing hair from your sweaty forehead, laying a hand across your swollen belly. It seemed your babe had decided now would be a perfect time to practice their dancing. Groaning lowly, you tipped your head back, leaning back on your elbows.

The door to the tower slammed shut and you heard even footsteps making their way up. Sighing, you braced yourself for the upcoming lecture from Tywin.

“YN? What on earth are you doing?” His voice was harsh and stern, but as you looked up at him, you saw care and tenderness flickering through his eyes.

“Thought I’d pay you a visit,” you said weakly, a half-smile gracing your lips as Tywin knelt before you. “But clearly... my efforts would’ve been wasted,”

Sighing, Tywin caressed your cheek briefly, before kissing your forehead. “Wait there,” he commanded and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not exactly going to go anywhere,” you called after him as he hurried back down the stairs. He soon returned, and began helping you to your feet. “You’ve called for the maester, haven’t you?” You teased, leaning into him as he helped you slowly up the stairs to the Hand’s chambers.

“Yes, of course I have. You looked like death on those stairs. I will not have you endangering yourself or the child doing stupid things like attempting to climb this tower alone,” his voice softened and he squeezed your thickened waist slightly. “I’ve sent my squire to fetch you something to eat as well. You must keep your strength up,”

“Despite what you think, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” you said. Tywin huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Have you had anything to eat at all today?” He questioned, brow arched.

“No, I was going to break my fast with you once I got up those bloody stairs- ah!” You let out a sharp grunt.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Tywin said hurriedly, pulling you up the last few steps and into his presence chamber.

“Nothing,” you gritted. “Your bloody child- ah- is doing somersaults in my belly,” you were silent for a moment, face scrunched in discomfort until your baby settled down. Sighing, you pulled away from Tywin and began walking into the sleeping quarters of his chamber.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tywin asked, amused.

“For a lie down. Have my things brought up here for the remainder of my pregnancy- I don’t think I’ll be able to get back down those stairs with a belly like this,” you joked, pulling back the covers as Tywin watched from the door. “You’re very welcome to join me, Lord Husband, if your schedule allows it. Though I must say, if your hands wander, I may sever them. I blame you entirely for my current situation,”

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @awessomness @weasleytwins-41 @closocool @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy

everytime loki uses magic:

One of the few details we have about Tysha, from her brief marriage to Tyrion, is that she loved Tyrion’s name:

“I love to say your name. Tyrion Lannister. It goes with mine. Not the Lannister, t’other part. Tyrion and Tysha. Tysha and Tyrion. Tyrion. My lord Tyrion …”

What I noticed on my recent reread of ACOK is that Shae almost never refers to Tyrion by name. She does once, at the beginning of ASOS:

“—your whore.” She laid a finger to his lips. “I know. I’d be your lady, but I never can. Else you’d take me to the feast. It doesn’t matter. I like being a whore for you, Tyrion. Just keep me, my lion, and keep me safe.”

And Tyrion’s inner monologue says she did once, at the beginning of ACOK:

A gust of merriment greeted him as he shoved into the inn’s common room. He recognized Chella’s throaty chuckle and the lighter music of Shae’s laughter. The girl was seated by the hearth, sipping wine at a round wooden table with three of the Black Ears he’d left to guard her and a plump man whose back was to him. The innkeeper, he assumed … until Shae called Tyrion by name and the intruder rose. 

But other that that, never. Tyrion is always “m’lord”, “my sweet lord”, “my giant”, “my giant of Lannister”, or “my lion”. Indeed, the epithets she chooses reflect the nature of their relationship, and the fantasy Shae wants to (or, more accurately, is paid to) create for Tyrion. “M’lord” is the typical form of address used by smallfolk toward nearly anyone of better birth (whether or not the individual is in fact a lord), but it is also a reminder by Shae to Tyrion of his own very high social position, especially compared to her own: she is the servant and he is the master in this relationship, there to remind him of his power. Shae turns Tyrion’s mocking self-identification as “[a] giant” into a playful, flattering nickname which echoes (of course unconsciously, at least to Shae) Maester Aemon’s sincere identification of Tyrion as a giant, a tribute to his intellectual abilities in a world which views him first in light of his disability. That Shae often adds “of Lannister” to “my giant” when addressing Tyrion reinforces that dynastic identity which Tyrion himself introduced right away in their relationship (within a few minutes of meeting Shae, Tyrion had reminded her that he was a Lannister, with plenty of gold to spend); any knight might merit a “m’lord” from a smallfolk individual, but only a comparative very few could be called “Lannister”, members of the proudest and wealthiest family in all of Westeros. “My lion” is an even more obvious tribute, almost too banal an epithet for a Lannister but saved by its more recent association with Jaime (who was “called … the Lion of Lannister”, according to Jon); the nickname lets Tyrion assume some of his warrior brother’s fame and prowess despite his disability.

There is such a dramatic, sad contrast between Tysha and Shae in this respect. So often when Shae addresses him, it’s in connection with his Lannister side. That’s not entirely unexpected, of course: Tyrion could pay Shae and keep her in silks and jewels precisely because he was a Lannister and consequently had far deeper pockets than that nameless “minor retainer” Bronn took her from, and Shae was keeping herself alive through what success she could glean from prostituting herself. It does, however, reinforce for me a sense of separation between herself and Tyrion: he is important to her, her forms of address would seem to suggest, not because he is Tyrion but because he is a Lannister. In a series where names and first names are so important - you have to remember your name - Shae seems determined not to give Tyrion that same sense of specific, personal identity; he can only exist as an invention, a title she creates to continue the fantasy of their relationship. 

But for Tysha, she liked Tyrion’s name for itself, and specifically not because it was in any way associated with the Lannisters. Tyrion’s name mattered to her both because she genuinely loved him and because his name reflected their mutually loving union. They were meant to be together, Tysha would seem to suggest, united from birth by their similar-sounding names. There is no invention here, no need to create a play-identity inextricably tied up in his association with the all-powerful ruling dynasty of the Westerlands; in fact, for the brief span of their marriage, the young couple hid themselves away from the Lannisters and Casterly Rock, not only physically but personally too. Instead of a lover who flattered him with reminders of his high birth and station, Tyrion had in Tysha a girl who rejected “the Lannister” part of his name, and who cheerfully made him play the servant in their fleeting domestic bliss. Tysha’s love of his name underlines that she loved him for himself; Shae’s distance from Tyrion’s true name underlines that she saw him fundamentally as her client.

I don't punch bugs but my boyfriend is 6'7" and 220lbs so I'll call him to get the bugs and he walks in and does his best new york gangster voice (he's British) and goes "is that guy bothering you, toots?" and then puts them in a cup

if men arent like this theyre worthless

Annnnnd KISS!! 🤩💋

Dolls💑