and then i alphabetized them

im not saying nina taught sonny to read, but that is what she tells people

2

@dailykrystal
[trans] luna: don’t worry. sm isn’t not letting us have a comeback, we’re just making sure we’re preparing hard so it can be perfect

@dailykrystal
[trans] luna: all the f(x) members are doing well. i spoke with all of them today

Some translations from the Luna’s Alphabet livestream yesterday. 

It may seem hard right now, but having a negative attitude won’t do us any good except drive fans away. f(x), especially Luna and Amber, seem to be fighting to at least give us hope, so let’s do what we can! Remember what Luna said about talking about f(x) all the time, too! 

(I’m singling out Lunber, because they’re the ones publicly saying stuff. I’m sure Krytoria are fighting, too, otherwise we would’ve gotten the D-word already.)

lover-fighter-writer-nerd  asked:

The more i write, the more i realizehow much i love world building and character development. My problem is i cant come up with a good plot to save my life. Any advice?! Please help!

Plot is where I also fall down. I’m not even so much about the world building, I just love characters and how people interact, so I have to actively force myself to write plot.

The way I do it is to break it up into really, really simple things. I think I’ve posted how I structure my novel plans, but this is basically it:

(Sorry for all the blanks, but there’s no way in hell I am letting key plot elements out)

Now, if you’re thinking, but Joy, that’s just a scrap of paper with single descriptor lines numbered together, yes, you’d be correct. I cannot map out plot in any other way, I’ve tried, but this is how my brain apparently works. 

All I know is I need to get from A to Z and I know there are scenes I want to include, so I write the scenes, then fit out where in the alphabet of my novel they fit. I number them, and then I fill in the blanks and connect everything together so that the start, the middle, the catalyst and the resolution all meet up, and then once I have this vague road map of where I’m going, I try and stick to it as much as possible while I write the thing into a whole. Sometimes the plan changes, and that’s okay, but mostly it gives me a sense of direction with where I am going towards something.

I like having my Point of Conflict mapped out clearly, so that I know where I am heading. And I’ll be honest, my plot is not unique. There is a start, a source of conflict, some comedic and romantic relief in between with oodles of world and character development until there is A Not Good Thing Which Causes More Conflict, and then there is The Resolution followed by more Character Stuff.

And that’s it. That is how I write and god help you if you can figure it out because some days I barely can. I guess the point I am making is, your plot doesn’t need to be complex. What’s the theme of your story, how does it start? Write that down as a one liner. What happens next? Write that down.

To give you an idea of how that would look, for most coming of age fantasy novels, it would look like this:

>Be at home on farm. Lament life on farm.
>Visit Market with Friends.
>Get into hijinks which establish Character Dynamics.
>Hear a rumor at market about war, be certain it will never come to you.
>Wake up in middle of night to find farm on fire, the war is here and it has most definitely found you.
>Parents die, run off with pseud-parental figure who seems to know a lot about you.
>Realize adventuring is fucking awful.
>Discover you were adopted and feel confused/betrayed??? 
>Get in fight with dark ancient evil that tells you Things.
>Lose hand as a metaphor for lost innocence.
>Several thousand words later:
>APPARENTLY YOU ARE KING NOW SO GOOD LUCK WITH THAT

And that is…that’s pretty much every popular fantasy story since Tolkein. But it’s the worlds and characters that keep us coming back for more. So your plot? Your plot doesn’t need to be original, there is at this stage, no new ideas. Only interesting and well executed ones, and that’s what you want to aim for. 

So don’t stress over things just yet. Get yourself a vague map, and then see where it takes you. Not everyone knows where they are going when they start out writing. 

Director Sanvers soulmate au where you don’t see color until you and your soulmate kiss (if the connection is strong enough you’ll see hints of colors)

So Alex thinks she sees colors every once in a while when she’s running point on missions with Lucy but she always ties it back to feeling the adrenaline rush of a well executed mission

Later Alex meets Maggie and flashes of colors appear out of the corner of her eyes. Then they kiss and wow! The world is colorful (in certain parts, others are still greyscale)

So Maggie and Alex go on living with a type of colorblindness (low key wondering if there’s something off or missing in their relationship)

Turns out its Lucy, she brings them the colors they were missing

The white road

I am 24 when my doctor tells me that I was abused. She doesn’t tell me what happened to me, or plant any memories that weren’t already there. She takes what I have told her and she puts it all inside those six letters, that one word.

Before she takes my memories and gives me that word, I tell her that I have made the appointment because I want to know why I can’t stand being touched. I tell her that I’m 24 and I’m sick of flinching when shop assistants hand me my change, just in case their fingers brush against my palm and there is that fire again, the one that rushes up from my bone to the membrane of my skin any time it comes into contact that I wasn’t expecting. I tell her that I have been trying to do this properly, from dating to everything else, and it’s like I’m blocked. It’s like I’m missing a piece of myself that makes me an adult, or perhaps even a human, and I don’t know where it’s gone.

Read more (mobile)

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Town, Mayor, Resident Names or Catchphrases!

I’ve been trying to find the perfect name for my next town, so I’ve been searching everywhere for different words that I could use. I got a little carried away… lol. Here are a ton of random words that you could use for your town name, mayor, residents, or maybe just as catchphrases! Feel free to reblog and/or add to the list!! I couldn’t be bothered to divide them up into categories, but I did put them in alphabetical order! I hope I help someone find the perfect name!!! ♡

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JB Imagine - Teaching

A/N - Anon requested Jaebum fluff~ Loved writing this one even though it is a little on the shorter side. Keep on sending me your requests!

“Jaebum? Can you help me with my Korean again?”
“Of course, jagiya. Need some help with the alphabet still?”
“Please, I keep on getting some of them mixed up.”
“Okay, let me grab a notebook and I can help you out.” Jaebum sat beside you, a notebook and pen in hand. He had been willing to help you learn Korean better as soon as you first asked him about it. You could speak fairly well and were able to have a conversation in Korean but you were no where near fluent and often needed to ask the English proficient members to help you. Jaebum had been a good teacher and had helped you improve quite a lot in the time he’d been giving you ‘lessons’. His lessons weren’t strict lessons at all; he’d list a few words and how to use them but would get distracted by you. He had a good reward system though. Everytime you got a word right, he’d kiss you. Whether that was for his benefit or yours, you still weren’t sure. 

“(Y/N), what sounds are these characters?” Jaebum asked, pointing the pen at the 5 characters he had written on the page. You listed them off, praying you had gotten them all right. The smile on Jaebum’s face told you that you had. “All perfect, jagiya,” he said as he leaned in to 'reward’ you. His lips met yours and gently but passionately moved in sync with them. His hands sat on your waist as he pulled you in closer.
“Not that I don’t like this, but how is this helping with my Korean?”
“Well I’m Korean so kissing me will pass along my knowledge of Korean to you.”
“Will it? Well I suppose I’ll have to trust you, since you are the teacher after all,” you responded giggling as you leaned in to kiss him again. His hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he smiled into the kiss, unable to get enough of your touch. You then pulled away, smiling at Jaebum’s pouty face. 
“Shall we continue with the actual Korean?”
“If you think that’ll help, jagiya,” he said, turning back to your notebook, writing a few new keywords for you to learn. He was pretending to be annoyed at you for pulling away but you could see through the blank look on his face. Leaning in, you kissed his cheek in the hope that it’d get him to acknowledge you once more. Instead, he just carried on writing down words on the page. You sighed and moved a hand to cup his cheek and turn his face towards you.  Pulling an innocent look, you slowly moved your lips toward his, inching closer and closer to his face, hoping he’d close the gap between you both. Unable to resist, Jaebum softly kissed you and whispered, “I love you too much to be annoyed at you and I hate you for that.”
“I love you too, Jae,” you replied, deepening the kiss a little before turning away so he could actually teach you some more Korean.

New Random T&S Playlists

Heyyyy Friday night insomniacs and people in timezones that are supposed to be awake!  So, sometimes to entertain myself, I make playlists out of my T&S videos in random categories.  (These are my playlists that start with a “Y,” from back in the day where you could actually get YouTube to last your playlists alphabetically… then I could find them all in one place!  Hey YT, how about you bring that back, huh?)

Like for instance, a long long time ago I started one of every time they screwed up songs on stage (I still add to that one a lot, haha).  Then I made another one of them *making up* songs on stage (not as much to that one anymore, sadly).  Back in the day, Sara used to get really angry when the crowds wouldn’t listen to them, so I made a whole one of Sara getting mad at the audience.  I made one of them fighting onstage (this one is way too short.  I have GOT to be missing things).  I made one of them being sweet to each other onstage (also too short! Help me out here!)  I made one of every time they mentioned various family members, from their mom and stepdad Bruce to their uncle Glen and cousin Chelsea.  And I’ve really loved adding to the one that shows the evolution of them talking onstage about being gay.  

In the last few days I made two others, for the hell of it, ha.  So, I present to you:

T&S Play Covers or with Others - It’s always fun to see them play something that’s not theirs (or try to), or jam with people who aren’t in their band!

Tegan & Sara’s Ailments - Whether they’re talking about “The Asthma,” Tegan’s pstosis, childhood injuries, or their latest incident of falling down the stairs, these stories are usually hilarious.

As always, if I missed any videos that belong in any of these playlists, let me know!  I think that within my 5,000 T&S videos, I’ve probably missed stuff, haha.  And if you think of any other interesting playlists I should make, let me know!

autotagging: a subset

I am tagging myself in the alphabet thing. I only want to answer two of them, but in some depth.

K: Yes, I have killed someone. Driving eastbound on Golf Road from the Edens towards a gig in Evanston on an icy December night in 1990, observing the speed limit and all other traffic laws. I had no chance: she was traveling northbound on one of the side streets there and blew clean through her stop sign, right into my path. I swerved right and my left front bumper smashed hard into her left rear quarter-panel. Her car did two full revolutions and careened at full speed into a big tree across the street. I brought mine to a stop in someone’s yard. I ran over to see if she was OK, and I was not ready for what I saw. She hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, and somehow she went over her steering wheel, face first into the windshield. Her face was so bloodied I wasn’t immediately sure if she were a man or a woman. A neighbor came out and called the police; this was before everyone had a cell phone. As the ambulance took her away and I sat with the Evanston police recounting the events, a commotion erupted on the street from which she’d come. Her son, a huge, hulking man, had become aware of his mother’s condition and was looking for the one who’d hit her. A cop put me into the cruiser and handled the situation with the enraged man (and his friends) beautifully, diffusing the anger at the moment, though it would linger in a lawsuit her son prosecuted (unsuccessfully) over the next two years. She died about two months later from the injuries she sustained that night, only regaining consciousness for a few brief periods during that time. She was old, and in poor health, and what ultimately turned the lawsuit in my favor was that she had been on powerful medication which had side effects including blackouts. Maybe it’s a stretch to say I killed her; the courts clearly felt I did not. Maybe the medicine did, maybe old age did, maybe having a shitheaded, money-grubbing son did. 

Z: I did the math. The constellation Capricornus is comprised of 104 stars according to Wikipedia. I’m not an astronomer, so I was surprised to learn tonight that it’s very difficult to estimate the mass of distant, non-binary stars. (But I was glad to learn it.) Turns out that most of the stars in that constellation are of classes much larger and brighter than our sun; this stands to reason, given that they are pretty far away but we can still see them. For the purposes of this argument, I’m going to assume that each of those stars has mass equivalent to 50 of our suns. That gets them all up into the hypergiant area, huge!, which they’re all surely not, but work with me here. Using Newton’s gravitational law (F = Gm₁m₂/r²), I plugged in this assumed mass for each star, a mass of 86 kg for myself, and the distances to each star, calculating the gravitational force each of those stars (if they were hypergiants) exerts on little old me. And then I added those forces up. Now, the stars are along several different vectors, spreading across 19º of decilnation and 2 arc-hours of ascension, so there’s some kind of vector math to do if I want to be super tidy about this, but I don’t. This bit is already wearing pretty thin. So the sum of all those gravitational forces from all those stars, acting on 86 kg me, given a whole bunch of hand waving around vector math and stellar mass, is about 40 piconewtons, or about the amount of force it takes to break a single hydrogen bond in a single molecule. Maybe that can change the course of history, maybe not. But I’m not one to completely deromanticize astrology, either. Because another force—electromagnetic—emanates from those same stars. And those photons can land on my retinas and knock loose the odd electron, which can in turn trigger many important electrical and chemical reactions in the organ a few inches behind those photons’ final destination, and indeed, the effects there can change history. Good enough for me.

Learning to Read

Pairing: Tywin x (daughter) Reader, Tyrion x (sister) reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Warnings: None…but it’s my first and it’s a little long… Eh, Tywin may be a little OOC.  

Summary: You are the youngest Lannister daughter and are struggling with your reading, so you get help from your brother, Tyrion.  Reader is six years old.  Mostly fluff.

Word Count: 3,582

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Tywin

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and previous Hand of the King sat in his study, pouring over documents and filling in signatures.  He hadn’t gotten any sleep the past few days, mainly because the fools of the Eyrie didn’t know how to strike a proper bargain.  Lord Tywin had never liked the Lady Arryn but while her husband, the true Lord of the Eyrie was away, he was forced to make political agreements and meet her terms.

There was a knock on the door, and he looked up, frowning.  Everyone knew not to disturb him when he worked on his documents.  It was either something important or a rather stupid servant.  He called for them to open the door.

The servant that stood before him was young and broad-chested.  He’d probably make a good soldier in a few years, but Tywin never took the time to learn his servants’ names.  This boy was no different.  He swallowed, and Tywin raised an eyebrow.

“My lord,” the servant began.  Then he stopped talking.

“Yes?” Tywin said, looking straight at him.  “You came into my study during a critical time, clearly you have something to tell me.”

Tywin could see the boy swallow away the lump in his throat.  His fingers drummed the desk, and he glanced at the tower of documents at the table.  

“My lord, it’s about your daughter,” the boy said, and Tywin’s attention was automatically caught. The boy couldn’t tell this though, for Tywin kept his same stoic expression.  “The Septas have been looking for her, but she seems to have disappeared.  They say she’s not doing well in her lessons and that she’s struggling with her reading.”

Tywin’s face hardened, remembering a similar experience with his eldest son, Jaime.  

“Very well, you are dismissed,” Lord Tywin said to the boy.

He nodded and fled the room. Tywin looked over at the documents. Y/N, his daughter, would have to wait until he finished the bulk of these.  He had a pretty good idea where she was hiding.  The girl had never been too good at keeping secrets.

As Tywin worked, he mused on his daughter.  He thought that his late wife was finished giving birth when she gave birth to Tyrion, but Y/N had come more than a decade later, a pleasant surprise for all of them. Tywin hadn’t expected to be a father again, and he worried for his wife, that her body couldn’t handle it, but she had given birth to a healthy daughter.  His wife had named her Y/N, though Tywin had wanted to name her after an ancestor.  Lady Joanna had insisted on Y/N though, so they went with that.

Tywin finished up his paperwork and left his office, ignoring the bowing servants and “milord”s as he walked through the stronghold.  He left the castle and went through the gardens.  Since he had told Y/N that her mother had loved the gardens, they had become her favorite place.  Sure enough, he saw her seated on a bench below one of the larger trees.

He cleared his throat loudly, and she turned to look at him with those striking emerald eyes –Joanna’s eyes.  His daughter was only six and as gentle as a hummingbird.  Her long golden hair splashed down her back.  Of all his children, she looked the most like her mother.

It was as if the child realized the danger she was in with her father’s arrival.  She jumped to her feet, smoothed her dress and curtsied before him.

“Good afternoon, father,” she said with all the bearing of a lady at court.  She knew her courtesies well.

“Why aren’t you in your lesson, Y/N?” he asked, cutting to the point.  It was true he was probably softer with her than his other children, but that was only because she hadn’t caused him nearly as much grief.  When a child misbehaved though, it was a father’s duty to correct that child.

“I don’t like the septa,” Y/N said.  “She’s boring.”

“I don’t care if you like the septa.  You’re learning to read.  Children outside these walls don’t get that opportunity.  Someday you will thank me for everything I’ve done for you,” he said. “Let go of your pride and do your lesson.  The house that puts the family’s name before its own selfish whims –“

“Will be the house that history remembers,” she finished for him.  She glared up at him.  “I just don’t like reading.  I’m not good at it, and I can’t do it.  No matter how hard I try, I don’t understand the letters.”

“You are not working hard enough,” he said.

“I spent two hours looking at the same page, and when the septa asked me to read aloud, I couldn’t do it,” she argued.  The girl definitely had spunk.  A Lannister needed that to get along in the world, but she needed to learn there were better times than others for it.  “All I do is stare at the page.  I know the letters.  I see the septa write them, and I can go through the alphabet.  The septa says my penmanship is wonderful, but when I have to read a word, the letters move around on the page and I can’t make any sense of them!”  

Tywin nodded, and she was quiet.  He had dealt with this before.

“Your brother Jaime was the same way,” he said.  “The maesters told me that he also mixed up the letters on the page.  Yes…I wondered if this would happen again.”

“And how did Jaime learn to read?” Y/N asked.  

A determined look flashed across Tywin’s face.

“I sat him down with the maester four hours each day,” he said.  “Which is exactly what I’ll do with you.”

“Father!” Y/N cried.

“Silence!” He cut her off. “Remember your courtesies, young lady. You will thank me for this.  A Lannister needs to know how to read! Jaime was angry with me too, but now he can read!”

“But four hours!” The girl looked close to tears, and for a rare moment, Tywin did feel something tear at his heart, but he was determined.

“A lady doesn’t say ‘but’,” he said.  It was something that Joanna used to say to Cersei when she argued with her.  “Go back to your lesson now.  I shall speak with your septa about the changes in your scholarly pursuits.”

Y/N’s pink lips quivered for a moment, and then she curtsied before her father and ran off.  Tywin watched her go, slightly amused, but slightly angry at her behavior.  Cersei had been much more rebellious, so he at least should have been grateful that he didn’t have to deal with that.  He didn’t particularly like upsetting his daughter, though.  She was the last thing of Joanna he had, and he was determined to give her the best life he could.

Being a father as well as a lord could be difficult at times.

Reader

At the end of your lesson, you were fuming at the septa.  Your head pounded and your eyes were sore from constantly staring at the page. You offered a short and stiff curtsy and then left as soon as the lesson ended.  You never wanted to see your septa ever again.  In fact, you would run away from the Rock and make your father miss you so much that he would find you.  That would really show him.

You loved your father like none other, but he could be stiff at times.  He was the proud lord lion of Casterly Rock, you reminded yourself.  He was held to different standards than the small folk.  Jaime supposedly had the same problem with words that you had, but Jaime got to run around and play with a sword, and then he got to be a knight.  Why did it matter if you could or couldn’t read?  Your father would wed you to a handsome lord when you were older, and you’d raise the babies while your lord husband signed important papers.

In your room, you tried to forget all about your lesson by combing through one of your dolls’ hair. The door opened and your father entered; the brush you used on the doll stopped halfway through its silk hair.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“The septa told me that you needed to study outside of your lessons,” he said firmly.  “Where are your books?”

“I just got out of my lesson!  I need a break!” You cried.

“Your mind is sharpest right after a lesson,” he said.  “Do you want to learn to read or not?”

“I don’t want to learn!” You snapped.

You had crossed a line, and you knew it.  Your father’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  

“You will read those books, Y/N, and I won’t ask you again,” he said in a low voice.

You shrunk back, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape your eyes.  You hated disappointing your father; he was your hero, but he just didn’t understand how hard it was for you to read!  You watched as he left the room.  You didn’t move for a moment, and when he was gone, you threw your doll against the wall.

You picked up the book and tried to read it, determined to show your father, but the more you looked at it, the worse your headache got and you found you just couldn’t do it.

You woke up with your face on the book.  You panicked slightly, aware that that was not proper for a lady.  By the sky outside your window, you knew it wasn’t time for supper yet.  You sighed with relief.  Then you picked up the book.  You didn’t want to visit the septa, but maybe if you just studied for many hours at once, she could get it all done and over with.  Hugging the book, you stomped past your broken doll and out the room.

Every step taken was tortuous.  You really, really did not want to see the septa.  What did that old lady know anyways?  Why couldn’t your father give you a fun teacher?  Maesters were always more fun than septas.

“Sister,” a deep voice suddenly rang in your ears.  “Does father know that you are wandering the Rock by yourself?”

Your heart stopped.  You turned and saw your older brother, Tyrion, standing there.  Even though he grinned at you, you felt a shiver pass up your spine.  She had always been more than a little frightened of him.

Tyrion wasn’t like Jaime or Cersei.  He was only slightly taller than you, but whereas you were six, he was a man.  His hair was as blonde as yours and his eyes as green, but his forehead was too big, and his arms and legs were too short. He wasn’t handsome in the least, and Cersei had told you that Tyrion had killed your mother.  Jaime had insisted it wasn’t true, but Cersei said that Tyrion had forced mother to care for him when he had a contagious illness, and she had died for it.  You hadn’t even been a year old, and because of that you didn’t have a mother.

“He’s a monster, Y/N, and monsters don’t show remorse,” Cersei had said to you.

You stared at your brother, fingers clutching the book.  You wanted to run, but you knew you needed to be brave.  He wasn’t really a monster.  He was frightening, but he was still your big brother.  Jaime got along with Tyrion after all.

“I’m going to the septa,” you said shortly.  “I’m learning to read.”

“Are you mixing up the letters on the page?” Tyrion asked in a dry tone.

“Um…” How did he know that was your problem?  “Yes…”

“Just like Jaime, or so I hear,” he said.  “Don’t go to the septa.  She’ll bore you to tears with her lessons.  It looks like she already has.”

“I have to learn to read so father will be happy,” you snapped, embarrassed.  

“Yes, we must keep father happy,” Tyrion said.

“I need to go,” you said.

When you turned away, Tyrion suddenly touched your arm.  You froze, remembering what Cersei had told you.  Tyrion looked kind of funny, but could he really be a monster?  What if you died because he touched you?  Maybe that’s why your mother had died!

“B-brother,” you stammered, voice squeaking.

“I’ll teach you to read,” he said.  “I’ve read a lot, and I’ve even stumbled on some of the histories of Casterly Rock that recorded other children with the same problems you were having.”

“Father wants me to study with the septa,” you replied weakly.

“Father wants you to learn how to read,” he said.  “Do you want to please father?”

You nodded meekly, and he smiled.

“Then follow me,” he said.

Your heart sank, and you imagined for a moment a maiden following a dragon into its lair.  Tyrion was no dragon; he was too small, but you couldn’t help but be scared regardless.  You frowned. Lannisters didn’t get scared.  You would learn how to read no matter what.

On the way to Tyrion’s chambers, he actually talked to you.

“Father rarely lets you see me,” he said.  “I remember when you were born.  I’ve never seen father smile like that before.  I suppose after me, you were everything he could have asked for.  You were a beautiful babe, and it looks to me like you’ve grown to be a beautiful girl.  You have mother’s features.”

How could he talk so easily of mother?  Didn’t he feel guilty?

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Father keeps me in lessons most the time.”

“And apart from the reading, how are those going?  Do you understand the laws of the land and the science?  I hated learning about the agriculture personally,” he said.

Before you could think, you said:  “I do too. I hate that part.”  You suddenly shut your mouth.  Had you just agreed with your brother?

“Ah, here we go,” Tyrion said.  “My room. We shouldn’t be in here too long, but I’ll teach you more than the septas will.”

“With magic?” You asked.

Tyrion snorted.

“What do you think I am? An imp with magical powers!  Is that what Cersei told you?” he asked. Cersei had never said that, but you couldn’t help but imagine it.  “No, if I knew magic, I’d make myself as tall as Jaime.  No, we’re going to learn the old fashioned way.”

“I won’t learn to read by supper?” You asked faintly.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “You’ll have to come back each day, but I promise you I will make it much more painless than the septa’s ramblings.  You’ll be reading in no time.”

And then he pulled out a seat for you at his desk and took the book from you.  He laid it on the table, and a devilish smirk appeared on his face.

“Let’s begin,” he said, and you sat down, feeling your hands and feet shake.

XXXXX

You had been visiting Tyrion in secret for a week.  You were never told to stay away from your brother, but father also made a point of keeping you as far away from him as possible.  With Tyrion as your teacher, you were able to see improvements you never thought possible.  Even the septa praised you when you actually read two sentences aloud and only had to pause a few times.  Tyrion didn’t use magic, but he may as well have.

What really confused you though was that you were actually starting to like your brother.  What would Cersei say?  Perhaps Jaime would be happy for you.  Tyrion was kind to you and very patient when you made mistakes.  He was constantly egging you on, but in a way that showed he really cared.

“You know this word,” he said as you hovered over the same word for over a minute.  “You can do it…”

“D…R…G… No, that’s not right.”  The letters were moving again.  “D…R…A….Dragon!”

Tyrion applauded you, and you blushed.  You then read the sentence aloud:

“Aegon I Targaryen rode on the dragon Balerion in the War of Conquest!” Your voice went up a notch at the end, and again Tyrion applauded you.

“Wonderful!” He said. “Wonderful!  Can you read the next sentence?”

“Aegon’s sister-wife…V…Vis…Visenya mounted Vhagar as her steed.”  You glanced up at Tyrion, praying you’d gotten the sentence right, and by his smile, you knew you had.  “I did it!  I’m learning to read, Tyrion!  You’re the best!”

You kept improving, and you actually sought out books to try and read.  Most of them you couldn’t, but you could understand a lot more than you could before.  Four days later, you were in yet another lesson with Tyrion.  He no longer frightened you, and Cersei’s words seem to fade.

You had finally reached the part in your heavy book that spoke of House Lannister.

“Lord Tytos Lannister was the eldest of four.  He was named heir in 236 AC of Casterly Rock…” your eyes skimmed the page.  Then you gasped.  “Jason Lannister!”

“Hmm?” Tyrion asked.

“Jason Lannister was Tytos’s younger brother.  Tytos was our grandfather!  Jason was our other grandfather!  He was mother’s father!” You cried.  “Mother and father were cousins?”

“I thought you knew that,” Tyrion said.  “Besides, cousins are one thing, but the Targaryens married their brothers and sisters for centuries.”

“It’s like how Cersei wants to marry Jaime,” you said.

“Y-Y/N …” Tyrion winced. “I don’t know how you know that, but you mustn’t say a word to father.”

You stared at the page and your finger found Lady Joanna’s name.

“What was mother like?” You whispered.

Tyrion froze and didn’t answer immediately.  Then he swallowed, and he smiled in a way that made him as handsome as Jaime.  

“She was beautiful,” Tyrion said.  “She was my best friend, my champion.  She was always encouraging me to be better, and when I cried, she held me.”  He looked out the window, and you watched him intently.  “When I learned that dragons had gone extinct, I was a mess.  I cried myself to sleep…but when I woke up, mother was holding me in her arms and telling me everything would be alright.  She had a beautiful voice too…”

“Cersei said mother died while taking care of you,” you whispered.

Tyrion looked down at his hands.

“That’s true,” he breathed. “I was probably old enough to not need my mommy, but I begged the maesters to let me see her, and she came right away and cared for me.  She stayed by my side all night…and then…it was all so sudden…she was gone.”

Tyrion was a man, but his lip trembled like a child’s.  He didn’t blink, like he was determined not to let the tears come.  He was always so carefree, sarcastic, and witty.  You had never seen this side of him before.

You reached under the table and held his stubby hand.

“Thank you for telling me about mother,” you whispered.  

XXXXX

You found yourself outside your father’s study.  He would be finished with his paperwork in any moment.  You waited there, going over again and again Tyrion’s cheers in your mind. The door opened, and Tywin stared down at you.  You drew yourself up as tall as could be, but he still towered over you.

“Do you need something, Y/N?” he asked.

You nodded, but didn’t answer.  Without a word, you strode right inside his study.  You heard you father sigh behind you and follow.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked you.  “Have you finished your studies today?”  You reached up and took the first bit of parchment off the stack.  “Careful, Y/N, those are important documents.  They can’t be lost –“

“Lord Randyll Tarly…Lord of House Tarly…To whom it may concern…We are in the process of building a bridge to help ensure our grains come quicker to the capital.”  You looked up from the sentence and hid your smile. Then you continued, and you read the entire letter out loud to your father.

When you finished, Tywin actually laughed, and you felt your cheeks go red.  You loved it when you pleased her father.  You had seen his smile more times than you could count, but you rarely heard a laugh.

“You see, Y/N?  You are a Lannister!  You always had it in you!” He said.  “You’ve got quite the attitude, but I’m proud of you.  Keep up the good work.”  He touched your face but didn’t embrace you.  He was still a lord after all.  “Come now, supper is waiting for us.”

You beamed at him, and they headed to the dining hall together.

After supper, you returned to Tyrion.  You still had much farther to go, and the letters still got jumbled, but you were determined to work hard.  You recounted the story to Tyrion, and he laughed first and then congratulated you.  Then he hugged you.

Once again you found yourself pouring over the book.  You finished reading the paragraph aloud and looked up at Tyrion.  He was absent-mindedly playing with an ink bottle.

“Um…I have a question,” you said.

“Ask away,” Tyrion urged you.

“Well, it’s just about something that Cersei said.  She said that you spent most your time in brothels and that you had…what were the words she used?  …An appetite for whores,” you began.  “Tyrion, what’s a brothel?  And what’s a whore?”

The ink bottle suddenly slipped from his fat fingers and shattered all over the floor.

so this week i got to 100 followers ?? thank you soo much to each one of you that follows me ?? idk why you did it but thanks for sticking up with me:( ilysm !!

this is a list of some of the blogs that i follow but all of them are really cool and i love them so much (i’m just including my mutuals because i’m lazy as that but i’m not bolding my ‘favorites’ because i don’t want anyone to feel bad)


i didn’t ordered them on alphabetical order but from the ones that followed me first to my recent mutuals

@phlippingphandom (you follow be from your main blog obvs but it’s the same @glitteryely @little-cheeky-monkey @phanhallows @gorgeous-howell @cihkennugget @tylertherulerofmars @vincent-phan-gogh @goddesslester @philpancakes @ephemeralester @phanadeux @cursivehowell @yourlocalphantrash @pleasingdaddyphil @dayphil @elliesfics @our-smol-beans @rotting-souls @mae-your-genderless-bae @jpgghowell @serenephil @luminousphil @clarabears @gengarphil @treephil @plantpotphil @aberrati0n @fivesosphangirl @theylikeboys @sleeplesslester @fadedawayy @neilandtodd @homesicklester @placebophan @princessdan @phanniephil @energeticwarrior @stardustphilly @fuglybutterfly @bork-borf-boof-heck @thephantastickat @lovebirdlester @blushinlester @starrylester

i love each one of you and thanks to the ones that’ve talked to me (also sorry i can’t keep a conversation ?? i’m really bad at it) and given me advise when i’m a mess (i’m always a mess but lets ignore that).