#Ali babbles

[alibonbonn]

Medic in training with the centaur of disease control 🩹

[caelisblade]

"boycotting is impossible, there are too many brands."

no it isn’t.

there are several apps that can help you to scan the barcode of an item and check if they are on the boycott list. for example, there is the "no thanks" app, created by ahmed bashbash, a palestinian developer. there is the "boycott" app. these all work.

of course, there are some brands that produce medicine (like bayer or bepanthen) or other products relevant for your health. i‘m not saying risk your health by not purchasing those products. you could try looking for alternatives. a lot of medicine is available by different brands with the exact same components.

but saying it‘s impossible to track after each brand is not a valid excuse if there are multiple possibilities. a little research doesn’t hurt. please educate yourself.

plus, by going this route, you can start appreciating the smaller businesses in your area. it‘s refreshing. i tried it myself. it works incredibly well to do so. give it a shot yourself.

[kil-luna]

i keep on trying to write angst but it always, ALWAYS ends up becoming a vomit of fluff. it's like deku puked in my brain or something.

idk man maybe this is just because i am too stressed in college

[alishashatogi]

REBLOG GRAPHS ARE BACK???

[spainkitty]

OHMYGOOOOOOD I just got the first draft of a commission in my email and IM LOSING MY MIND. My Warden, my darling baby Queen Commander, Aleandria Cousland, HAD COME TO LIFE and she's happy and teasing her love, her Ali. HES POUTING. HES BLUSHING. HE'S GOT LITTLE PIONTY EARS😭😭😭 When the colors get finish, I think I might die of happiness. I can't wait to show everyone when it's done!! Just in time for my bday too

[gobspeaks]

um. boy of all time btw 👆 I'm not even actively playing the game I made him for anymore and I still get the urge to spin this idiot around my brain like a carnival ride

anyway. the songs are roughly aligned with where they fall best in the timeline of the game. (with a few that apply more broadly)

there's a lot of love songs in the latter half of the playlist.

👆that's why

little thing i wanna point out bc it makes me happy:

a couple songs are shared between my Alistair playlist & el's Dawn playlist they are besties for the resties I don't think we have a single ending where they stop making time for one another they are inseparable (and everyone is worse off for it)

[alibonbonn]

The Iliad is an anime and this is Achilles' magical girl transformation montage

[writingsofwesteros]

Viserys having always lusted after his sweet innocent little sister, but Damon wold always keep him from talking her for his second wife, so when Aemma dies she comes to comfort him in his chambers (like Ali did) and when she ask if she can do anything to help him in his grief. Vis (cue his big grinch grin) tells his innocent little sister that the only thing he is missing is a son… so he asks if she would bare him one, rather than him having to mary for duty. And his sweet innocent of course wants to help him so he is tirelessly trying to give her a son 😈

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“You have to eat.” You sweetly whispered into your brother’s ear. Your breath moved over his ear and Viserys nearly shivered. Your hands rested on his chest from behind before you placed your head on his shoulder. “I do not have an appetite.” Viserys hummed; leaning back into the chair. He fought against telling you what his true appetite was. 

“You have to.” You softly pouted and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He hummed and happily leaned into your touch. Your fingers gently moved through his locks as you slowly walked around him. His hands gently reached for your hips; softly stroking you for a moment as the thin night dress had him nearly salivating.

“Always looking after me.” Viserys whispered up at you. A soft, sweet smile coming across your face. “Always. Anything you need.” You softly babbled and missed how his eyes began to darken. “Anything?” Viserys hummed; his voice deepening. He gently reached for your hands, which you as ever allowed.

“I think I do need something.” You blinked innocently with a soft hum escaping you. “They want me to remarry.” Viserys gently whispered as he subtly pulled you onto his lap as he pretended to be sad. “Oh, Viserys…” You gently whispered. You reached to gently cup his face as your eyes locked.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. All the while the King was staring at your exposed breasts and wondered if they would be even bigger when he placed a child in you. You looped your arms around his neck for a moment. Viserys burrowed into your neck and you couldn’t help but comfort him.

His hand moving down your hips once more before subtly resting on your arse. “I’ll never love another…I only want to be alone with you.” A soft blush came over your cheeks at his words. “You have me.” You hummed. “You can’t be what I need.” Viserys whispered; his manipulation began; as if it was ever at an end.

“I can, I promise.” You babbled out; leaning away to lock eyes with him. “Anything you need.” You continued. “I couldn’t ask you to do this.” Viserys whispered; his hands stroking your sides once more. You sighed with a soft pout coming over you. His larger hand moved to your arse and began to palm you.

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip at the soft desire pooling in your stomach already. “They want me to have a son. An heir.” Your fingers gently moved through his locks. “You have an heir.” Gods, your innocence was driving him mad in all the best ways. “I know..but there are only two heirs.”

“I can help you…” You finally whispered into his ear before burrowing into his neck. “Oh, I couldn't ask you..” Viserys hummed as his cock hardened even more. “I am offering.” You leaned away; your stubbornness came into play. “I want to help you.” You softly whispered; your pout returning. He was going to kiss that pout away if you continued.

“Thank you.” Viserys gently whispered out; his heart skipping a beat. “I can always count on you.” You nearly shook at his words; your happiness bubbling just under the surface. “Tonight then…” Viserys hummed before leaning in. His soft lips brushed against your own and he watched your eyes widen.

~

“Good girl. So good.” Viserys whispered praises into your ear as the darkness of the room cloaked you both. His cock already buried inside you so deeply as you whimpered up at him. Your eyes were still so wide as you hiccupped in pleasure. Viserys hardly knew how he was able to be so slow; taking his time.

“So beautiful.” He purred and his hand slowly moved to cup your soft, ample breast. Goosebumps easily littered your soft skin. He couldn’t stop himself. His hot mouth was soon taking your nipple. His hips slowly began to move as your soaked walls hugged him. “Viserys..” You whimpered out.

“Are you sure this is right?” You moaned and reached to grab at him. His larger hand slowly moved south. “Of course…doesn’t it feel good..feel right?” He whispered into your ear; moving deeper as he leaned close. You couldn’t help but nod as your arms slowly looped around his neck. You couldn’t deny how good it felt. “Will it work the first time?” You were able to cutely babble out. Visersy chuckled into your ear and had you blushing some more as he quickened his thrusts. You grabbed at him; your nails softly moving over his skin as your body thrashed so prettily beneath him.

Your stomach was tightening in pleasure as you babbled his name. He leaned close and passionately captured her soft lips. Gods, it was everything he had dreamt of. Even when he had been with Aemma. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing. “Viserys…” You whimpered out before he answered you.

“Sometimes..we shall try again.” He purred into your ear; releasing deep inside you.

~

And again. And again. He took you all over his chambers during the night as you babbled and completely lost yourself in the pleasure. He whispered his praises in your ear throughout the evening. It was only when you had passed out that Viserys finally stopped; his cock still stuffed inside you.

His fingers gently moved through your locks as he whispered sweet nothings. A smirk easily came over his face. His hand moving down to your stomach now as his head rested back onto the pillows. All was well, Viserys thought to himself as your mouth watering scent moved over him.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until you were with child; especially as he would have you in his bed for days. They would have to marry you to him and he would gladly accept. You would be none the wiser. 

And he would have everything he’d ever wanted. Those thoughts alone were enough for the King to fall into a sweet sleep full of dreams that were becoming a reality.

[caelisblade]

adding rafayel to the boys i write for, he owns my heart now so

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: sexual abuse, violence, trauma, panic attack ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Feuer Frei! (Rammstein)

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She wasn't sure how they became friends. Before she met him she played often with Helaena, they lived in the neighbourhood, and there wasn't much of an age difference between them. They often visited each other to play with their dolls, while her brothers existed for her somewhere in the back, busy with their serious, boyish affairs unavailable to girls.

One day when their mother called Helaena home she was sitting on a blanket on the grass in their garden, pretending that her teddy rabbit had just been drinking tea from her pink plastic cup, when their whole elaborately choreographed scene was destroyed by a dog bumping into her and licking her.

"Vhagar! No! Bad dog!" She heard the growl of a young boy, running up to them and grabbing his happy, shiny labrador with big eyes, who just licked her face, panting loudly, pulling her by the collar, trying to drag her away.

She giggled, wiping her face, and it was only when she looked at him that she noticed a large white bandage on the left side of his face, covering his entire eye and part of his cheek, taped up with plasters. She blinked, curious, and cocked her head.

"What happened to you?" She asked lightly, and he threw her an angry, murderous look, tightening his lips and furrowing his brow.

"Fuck off." He hissed, and she turned all red, close to tears, devastated that he had used such ugly, vulgar words towards her that her parents had forbidden her to use, shouting at him that he wasn't allowed to talk like that, that she didn't like him and for him to go away.

This is exactly what he did, dragging his dog behind him with difficulty, and she took her rabbit and ran to her house across the street, no longer waiting for Helaena to return, distraught.

Her father tried hard to get anything out of her, but he understood little of her loud sobbing and babbling, she could see nothing through her tears, she stood and stammered out mere fragments of sentences from which her parent had by some miracle put together a whole. Her father sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"Listen. Helaena's brother, I think his name is Aemond, had a very serious accident. I was told about it by his mother when I met her in the supermarket recently, the whole family is going through a lot. He will have to wear an artificial eye and will be left with a big scar. He feels very bad about it and that is why he is behaving like this. Your question was very tactless." He said finally.

She felt a squeeze in her heart and burst out sobbing even louder, this time because she had offended him, that surely this boy now hated her when she wanted everyone to like her.

"− I didn't − after all − uh − I didn't mean to − I just −" She mumbled in despair, not knowing herself what she wanted to say, breathing hard, almost choking from her sobs, her face all red, she was hot with emotion.

"Come here." Her father said to her, so she walked towards him. He embraced her and stroked her head, saying that she should ask her mother to help her bake cakes for him and bring them to him, wishing him a speedy recovery and apologising so they would both feel better.

She decided that this was indeed a good idea and did exactly that.

The next day she knocked on their front door standing with a box of cakes and was opened by their mother, a beautiful, long-haired woman with a warm smile, she was wearing a thick green jumper.

"Good morning, dear, Helaena is just in ballet class." She said to her in a soft, calm voice, and she shook her head.

"No, ma'am, I've come to see Aemond, I've baked cakes for him and I want to wish him quick recovery." She recited with difficulty what her mother had told her to say, hoping she hadn't forgotten anything, waiting with a pounding heart for a response.

The woman smiled broadly with some kind of gratitude and called out loudly to her son asking him to come downstairs, saying he had a visitor.

Her son came down reluctantly, furrowing his brow, having no idea who might want to see him and when he spotted her he immediately pressed his lips together, furious.

He approached his mother, looking at her distrustfully, and she swallowed loudly feeling a tightening in her throat and tears of shame gathering in her eyes again.

"I'm so sorry for asking you about it at the time, in the sense of what happened to you and that I upset you and that you were sad and that I yelled at you afterwards because I was sad too and − and −" She mused, forgetting for a moment what she was getting at in that sentence, swallowing her saliva loudly and suddenly remembering. "− and − and I brought you cakes that I baked with the help of my mother to wish you a speedy recovery."

She said quickly and held out a cardboard box tied with a ribbon in front of her. Aemond looked uncertainly at his mother, who nodded at him to accept the gift. He did not look at her as he reached out for the package and murmured under his breath, nodding. His mother sighed quietly.

"What should you say now?" She asked him expectantly, and he pressed his lower lip together, looking somewhere sideways, discouraged.

"Thank you." He muttered, turned and headed up the stairs.

"Goodbye." She said quickly, turning and running towards her house, feeling relieved that now she had put things right and now he would surely like her a lot.

She was wrong.

When she came to their house to see Helaena, he immediately locked himself in his room. When they passed each other at primary school he did not respond to her greeting by pretending not to see her even though they were neighbours.

When their parents met each other in the supermarket and started talking to each other, he would approach the shelves and pretend to look at some products, doing everything he could not to talk to her.

He never spoke to her in a bad way again, never shouted at her again, but simply pretended that she didn't exist.

Everything changed when they went to high school and it turned out they would be in the same class. They would then get on and off at the same bus stop, but instead of talking to her he preferred to put his earphones in his ears and browse through the apps on his phone, pretending not to see her.

She tried to talk to him, but he shunned her, treating her like air. She had the painful feeling that from that moment, from the day she asked him the wrong question, she was already crossed out as a person in his eyes.

And then their literary history teacher gave them a homework exercise to do in pairs. Assigning a person to each, when he looked at her he waved his hand as if realising something.

"Ah, Evans, you and Targaryen live nearby, it will be easier for you to work. Next couple −" He said, and she froze, looking at him over her shoulder, his eye wide open, pointed in her direction, he was playing with his pen between his fingers, his lips clenched into a thin line.

He was furious.

She swallowed loudly feeling a tightness in her throat and turned back towards the board, feeling only the loud pounding of her heart.

She ran after him off the bus, seeing him walking towards his house with his backpack thrown over one shoulder, the hood of his dark sweatshirt pulled over his head, earphones in his ears. She grabbed his sleeve to make him stop, and he flinched and looked back, surprised.

"Wait, can we talk?" She asked, breathing fast, and he furrowed his brow, taking the earpiece out of his ear, she could hear some loud heavy metal music coming from it and recognized the song Feuer Frei! by Rammstein.

"What?"

She blinked, understanding that he hadn't heard completely what she'd said. She grunted quietly, letting him go, looking at him expectantly.

"I asked if we could talk."

He looked ahead, letting the air out loudly through his nose with impatience, pulling the other earpiece from his ear, looking everywhere but at her. She guessed he wouldn't say anything, so she started quickly, not wanting to irritate him unnecessarily.

"I know you don't like me and I promise not to annoy you with anything. Let's just go to your place or mine, do this homework and get it over with. Okay?" She asked in a trembling voice and he licked his lips, indecision and frustration in his eyes, something was going on in his mind that she didn't understand completely.

He snorted, shrugging his shoulders and nodded at her.

"Come."

They entered his house greeted by the smell of dinner just being cooked. Their mother welcomed her presence in the company of her son with joy and surprise.

"Will you eat something? The meatballs in sauce are warm and ready." She said warmly, hoping they would stay down, guessing that they were both hungry after many hours of lessons.

She wished he would agree, feeling a burbling in her stomach.

"No. We're going to go do our homework." He said in a low, slightly hoarse voice. He pulled off his shoes, slipped the hood off his head and walked up the stairs without looking at her.

He walked into his room, throwing the clothes and books lying on the floor into the wardrobe, clearly wanting to do a quick tidy up, his whole walls covered with posters of various bands, Rammstein, Electric Light Orchestra, Deep Purple, Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, his bookshelves heaving with books.

"Sit." He said lowly, pointing to the chair he'd set up by his desk, himself sitting down in a comfortable high-backed leather player's chair, spreading out on it comfortably.

She walked over to him, pulling her pastel soft backpack off her back, pulling out her notebook and the book they had just reviewed.

The Little Prince.

She felt that he was looking at her expectantly, so she opened her notebook in which she had written down the exact assignment the teacher had given them. She decided to read it aloud so they could reflect on it together.

"The Little Prince is a metaphorical story. Talk together about a few scenes from the book that moved you most and compare your thoughts, writing down similarities and differences. Analyse at least two scenes in this way."

She glanced at him, tightening her lips, feeling her heart pounding hard. For some reason she was terrified, he was sitting next to her, resting his elbows on his desk, leaning forward, seeming even bigger and taller to her than usual.

She felt strange thinking that he smelled nice, that he used some ordinary, cheap men's perfume.

He sniffed with his nose, not even looking at her, taking a pen in his hand.

"Have you read this book?" She asked, wanting to make sure he knew what they were going to talk about. He threw her a look like he thought she was an idiot.

"Do you have any more stupid questions, or can we get started?" He asked lowly, and she pressed her lips together, humiliated, feeling for some reason that she wanted to cry.

She felt like asking why he couldn't forgive her at last, but decided it was pointless, that he obviously didn't like her because he had such a whim.

She shook her head and he hummed, taking her copy of The Little Prince in his hand and began looking through it.

"Which scene do you want to talk about?" He asked coldly, dispassionately, and she swallowed loudly.

"About the Little Prince and the Fox." She said quietly, feeling him give her a brief glance.

He grunted under his breath, apparently agreeing with her choice, waiting for her elaboration on the matter. She swallowed with difficulty, licking her lips.

"What moved me most was how true this scene is. That the greatest enemy of friendship, or any close relationship, is haste. That only by respecting someone's barriers, only by approaching someone slowly and with understanding, can you really look at them from a distance.

By taming someone, by making that person grow attached to you, you take partial responsibility for that person's feelings, for making them trust you enough to believe that you won't intentionally hurt them with your behaviour. Until we really get to know someone we are just a crowd of people passing each other on the street."

She said in a trembling voice, feeling for some reason tears under her eyelids and a tightness in her throat, her eyebrows arched in pain, her lower lip began to tremble, she played with the material of her white daisy dress in a nervous gesture.

She felt him watching her, an awkward silence fell between them.

She couldn't look at him.

She thought he was going to say something cruel, that he was going to tell her to stop wailing, but he said nothing. After a while he spoke up.

"I see this scene differently. They're both moving towards each other because they're determined to do so. They are both going their separate ways. There is a balance. The Little Prince doesn't force the Fox to approach him, just as the Fox doesn't force the Little Prince to approach him. They do it of their own free will. They tame themselves because that's the decision they made. You can't tame someone who doesn't want it." He said lowly, and she looked up at him feeling tears begin to run down her face.

Was he talking about himself?

Was she the Fox who wanted to tame him even though he didn't want it?

"I'm sorry." It burst out of her chest before she had time to think about what she was doing.

He pressed his lips together and swallowed loudly, clenching his hands lying on the desk into fists, his nostrils moving restlessly in accelerated breathing.

She covered her face with her hand, embarrassed that she just couldn't stop crying, feeling pain in her heart and feeling sorry for herself that she just wasn't able to give him a break, that she kept seeking his attention and interest when he just clearly wanted her to leave him alone.

She couldn't bear the thought that she wasn't liked by every man she knew.

She felt ashamed at the thought that she had been so selfish.

"I can't stand that you don't want to talk to me. That you don't like me, that you pretend not to see me. I think it's driving me crazy and you're right to think that I'm an attention-seeking girl. I'm ashamed and I apologise to you for that because it's not your problem. I promise I'll stop." She said between laboured breaths, shrugging her shoulders, lowering her gaze.

He just looked at her.

"You exaggerate everything too much. You care too much." He said finally, his voice calmer as was his gaze.

She saw him fidgeting involuntarily with his fingers in a nervous gesture, the cuticles around his fingernails peeled and red, they must have caused him pain, but he plucked them nonetheless.

"Stop." She whispered and placed her hand over his, his fingers froze in mid-motion. She heard him swallow loudly, completely taken aback, his healthy eye open wide, his whole body concentrated. She stroked his palms with her thumb, and he didn't push her away.

"I'll leave you alone." She said softly and took her hand away, not believing she had dared to do so, and he just nodded and grunted, looking in her book for the quote he wanted to talk about.

They wrote down silently next to each other what they had talked about, and when they had finished she took her books, packed up and left without saying goodbye to him.

She no longer sought his gaze when he stood next to her at the bus stop, when he sat behind her in class, when she passed him in the school corridor. She realised that she had been conceited and vain in thinking that she would make him like her. She thought there was nothing wrong with someone not fancying her, not wanting to talk to her.

She had to get over it.

She attended extra volleyball classes, loved this sport and had good results at inter-school competitions. The captain of the men's team was Cregan Stark, a tall, well-built, funny black-haired boy who caught her eye from the start.

He would occasionally wink at her from afar seeing her gaze, and she would blush, lowering her eyes.

They were good mates, chatting sometimes during breaks and laughing. Cregan often approached her between classes, throwing in any topic, sometimes accompanied by his colleagues who were also fond of her. She felt butterflies in her stomach when he invited her to a house party that Aegon was organising.

She knew that Aemond would certainly be home at that time, but she figured that he would lock himself in his room and not go downstairs to them anyway, so she readily agreed, glad to see Helaena there as well.

She dressed in her favourite suede black dress reaching mid-thigh with a boat neckline, not revealing her breasts but showing her shoulders, and she wore her favourite shiny black boots. She let her hair down, deciding that she looked the prettiest this way, and literally ran out of the house when she heard a knock on the door.

She and Cregan hugged each other as if they were friends and moved arm-in-arm across the street hearing the loud music in the distance. When they entered she saw a crowd of people, most were her friends from the estate, so she greeted everyone around her, one of the guests handed her a cup with probably the cheapest wine possible.

She took a sip, glancing at Cregan and he winked at her as he always did, this time embracing her, pulling her close.

She felt the heat in her lower abdomen and the flush in her cheeks.

For most of the time they sat together on the couch, talking about everything and nothing, she saw no one around him but him, looking into his big dark eyes as if enchanted. She swallowed loudly when she felt his hand on her thigh, trailing up and down, and pressed her lips together, unsure if she liked it or not.

However, she didn't reject his hand, not wanting to offend him, some part of her happy that he reciprocated her interest, that he liked her too, that he found her attractive too.

"Shall we go to the garden?" He asked loud enough for her to hear him, and she nodded with a smile, feeling her own heart beating fast, happy that he wanted to be alone with her.

They walked out into the garden through the kitchen, through a back entrance she knew very well, on the way she felt him grasp her hand in his, she had a feeling her heart would leap out of her chest. They sat down on the terrace bench, he embraced her and hugged her close, and she snuggled into his chest.

She wondered with a blush on her cheeks if he would want to kiss her.

She swallowed loudly and a shudder went through her as, from her shoulder, his hand slowly began to move up to her neck, slipped under the material of her dress and touched her bare breast. She squeezed his wrist, terrified.

"N-no." She mumbled, but instead of stopping, he tightened his fingers on her flesh.

"No, stop." She said terrified, aggressively pulling at his hand, feeling tears in her eyes, cold sweat on the back of her neck, her whole body screaming for him to let her go, wanting to run away, but he wouldn't release her.

"Didn't you hear?" She heard a firm, low voice beside her, and Cregan jumped away from her suddenly, rising from the bench.

Aemond stared at him with his lips tightened, an expression of disgust on his face, his healthy eye wide open, his hands clenched into fists.

"Don't you fucking understand what 'no' means?" He asked him again, louder this time, furious.

She was just sitting and shaking, breathing hard, looking down at her shoes, tear after tear running down her cheeks, she was unable to move or get anything out.

Cregan grunted back.

"Fuck off." He growled, wanting to get past him, but Aemond grabbed him by his shirt and pressed him against the door frame with all his strength.

She stood up quickly, terrified, and covered her mouth when Cregan hit him on the forehead with his head and he took a few steps backwards, Aemond's fist hit his face in return, Cregan half-curled and coughed. They moved away from each other, panting heavily.

"Fucking bastard." He hissed, holding his red cheek with his hand and walked back out into his house, loud music, screams, laughter and conversations of people inside around them.

She sat down on the ground, feeling her whole body shaking, clenching her eyes shut, a strange, high-pitched sound and a sob came from her throat as it finally dawned on her mind what had actually happened.

That he touched her in a way that made her uncomfortable and made her unable to breathe, that she had asked him to stop and he hadn't, how bad it made her feel, how frightening and humiliating it was.

She felt so dirty.

She wasn't sure if what came out of her mouth could be called crying, she felt like she was whimpering and howling, holding her hand to her mouth as if trying to shield herself from what was happening, to no avail.

She heard the rustling of the grass beneath his feet, she felt the gentle touch of his large, warm hand on her back, casual, tender, friendly, comforting.

She snuggled into his black sweatshirt and cried out loud, disappointed, distraught and devastated that she had trusted him, that she had believed him and he did something like this to her.

Why?

Was it because she didn't push him away when he touched her thigh, that she went out with him alone?

Did he think that was what she wanted?

"Shall I go and find Helaena?" He asked in a trembling voice clearly not knowing what to do, how to help her, horrified by what he had seen and her condition. She shook her head quickly, feeling ashamed, she didn't want anyone to know.

She heard him swallow loudly.

"If you want I'll go with you to his parents tomorrow. I'll tell them what I saw. He's been groping you all evening." He said low with some kind of tension, and she froze, drawing in the air loudly at the thought that he must have come downstairs, that he must have seen them as they sat on the sofa, watched them.

Follow them out.

She wondered if he had done it to make sure he wouldn't do anything to her against her will.

It was her fault.

She did not push him away when he touched her thigh.

She went off with him herself.

"No. They won't believe me. He'll say I wanted it myself." She mumbled in a trembling, weak voice between one shattered breath and another.

She could feel his heart pounding hard, that he was nervous too, that he didn't know what he should do. He put his arm around her in a friendly manner, feeling subconsciously that she needed it, that she was terrified.

They both stood up quickly when they heard some girls come out for a cigarette. They raised their eyebrows, looking at them with amusement, one of them waved at them.

"Hey, Cyclops, do you have a girlfriend now?" She asked, the second girl laughed out loud, the third looked at the others disapprovingly, lowering her gaze, pretending she hadn't heard this.

"Fuck off, you stupid bitch!" She growled at her so loudly and with such fury that the girl froze, it seemed to her that she had never called anyone that out loud before in her life.

In a frenzy of desperation, anger and humiliation, she pulled her boots off her feet and, one by one, started throwing them at them until all three of them fled inside the house screaming that she was insane.

"Fuck, calm down! Jesus." He called out to her in shock, grabbing her by her arm. She raised her eyes at him, breathing loudly, his gaze softening a bit.

"Do you want to go home?" He asked lowly, almost indifferently, and she nodded, feeling that she wanted to cry again at the thought of Cregan's touch on her chest.

His hand tightened on her bare breast, refusing to let her go.

An unpleasant shiver ran through her, she felt like she was going to vomit.

First, though, she had to find her shoes, one of which had ended up in the bushes, the other behind their barbecue, all dirty from the coals. She put them on anyway, she was already indifferent to everything.

He didn't even ask if she wanted him to walk her away.

He just followed her.

On the way out they came across Cregan and his mates smoking a cigarette on the road, some of his friends whistling at them, laughing out loud.

"Are you guys going to fuck?" He called from a distance in amusement, she felt that her whole body was shaking, that she was afraid of them and she thanked God that he had gone with her, that he had not left her alone.

She wondered if this was what he experienced all the time at school.

Humiliation.

He stood with her in front of her door with his hands tucked into his black trousers, his face turned in profile.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she needed it.

She walked up to him and hugged her face to his sweatshirt, standing in front of him like that. She could feel his warm breath on the top of her head, she knew he was looking at her.

She swallowed loudly as she felt his forehead pressed against her hair, he let out a loud breath, something in his voice that she could call sympathy.

"Try not to think about it. If you change your mind and want to go to his parents, I'll go with you. Hm?" He asked lowly, and she nodded.

"Are you going to keep seeing him?" He asked coolly after a moment, and she shook her head, feeling that it made her sick at the thought.

"Good." He muttered, raising his head. She pulled away from him and looked at him, swallowing loudly.

"Gonna give you my phone number. In case you decide to do it." He added quickly, wanting to make sure she didn't understand his proposal ambiguously. She nodded her head.

He dictated a string of numbers to her, which she typed into her phone and added him to her contacts under the name 'Prince'. He saw this and lifted his gaze to her, but made no comment.

They looked at each other for a moment in silence.

"I'm sorry." He said finally. She nodded her head in understanding.

"Thank you for everything. That you… you know. Have a good night." She said softly, without looking at him anymore, and disappeared behind the front door of her house.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

[alishashatogi]

this is an excellent april fool's gag.

[atundratoadstool]

"The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule."

-- Jonathan Harker in Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897)

“Crossing the Danube River, babbling like a living testament to the glorious past of the Turkish nation, my great and famous race, the train carried me to places closely connected with Turkish history. Deep inside me the bitter, sweet, but above all proud and noble feelings fluttered and thrilled in me. I felt a great sense of national pride. What a miracle of the soul these feelings are! The sweet, endless immortality of human societies!”

-- Azmi in Ali Riza Seyfi's Kazıklı Voyvoda, an unauthorized Turkish edition of Dracula in which all the principals live in Istanbul instead of London (1928)

[gobspeaks]

blorbos from our brains :)

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 27

Uncooperative Patient

If you had been paying attention, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Alternatively, if the other player had been paying attention, the situation could have been avoided. But, alas, both of you were looking at the ball and not at each other and were unaware of the other’s presence until your heads slammed into each other’s. 

The other player sat up quickly, rubbing her head slightly. She had a bit of a headache and would definitely have a bruise in the morning, but she would be alright. 

You weren’t as lucky, and you remained sprawled on the ground. By the time that Ali and Ash made it across the field to you, they found you unconscious on the ground. 

The two women gently yet efficiently moved Mal and Alex from where they had crouched next to you and replaced them. Ash sits directly behind your head, one hand on either side to keep you still. Ali kneels by your side and uses her fingers to gently tap your cheek in order to rouse you. 

The first sign that you had regained consciousness was a heartbreakingly weak sob. Recognizing this sound, your teammates worked to direct everyone away from you, knowing that you wouldn’t want your opponents and the refs to see you regressed. 

Ali quickly shushes you, using her thumb to gently stroke the lump that was already forming on your face. You whine at the added pressure, trying to wiggle away. Ali immediately apologizes to you as Ash keeps a strong hold on you to keep you in place. 

Ash’s hold becomes pointless though, as your eyes open and you whimper before throwing up. The two women turn you on your side, allowing you to get everything out without choking on it. 

When it appears you finish, Ash decides not to worry about keeping you still and instead pulls you to be cradled in her lap. You cry into your Mommy’s jersey, the mixture of snot, tears, vomit, and blood that cover your face rubbing off onto her. Ali scoots as close as she can in front of you, trying to block you from the cameras. None of you notice how your teammates form a loose circle around the three of you in hopes of doing the same. 

The medics finally make it to you, taking one look at the entire situation before deciding you need to be subbed out.  Trying not to let the entire world know that you were little, the two women wrap your arms around their shoulders and manage to escort you off of the pitch that way. Ali transfers your full weight on to Ash, having accepted that only one of them would be allowed to come off with you. What neither woman had expected is for a clean jersey to be thrown at each of them with instructions to quickly change and get back out there. 

The women were shocked, looking between the field, Coach, and where you were crying and babbling for your moms. Their protests were silenced instantly, and they found themselves scanning the bench for someone that they trusted to take care of you. 

Not waiting for your moms to make a decision, Christen takes the job upon herself and stands up. She walks over, trying to remain calm and collected when she sees the state you’re in. She gives a sad smile to your moms, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into her side. You stumble slightly before landing against her. 

Christen promises your moms that she’ll get you showered and into pajamas, assuring the worried mothers that she knew where they had put your little bag. 

There wasn’t time for much else, as hundreds of people were shifting, waiting for the two players to return. Your moms watched as Christen leaned down to whisper something in your ear before turning and leading you down towards the tunnel. You’re stumbling, the regression and the head injury making it hard to walk, but Christen keeps her grip tight and matches your pace. 

When you’re far enough into the tunnel that the cameras aren’t able to see you, Christen looks around before scooping you up and resting you on her hip. Your sobs were still very much present, your head resting on her shoulder directing the tears into her warm-up jacket. 

She shushes you, talking quietly in hopes of soothing you as she walks to the locker room. She’s able to move quicker now that she no longer has to wait for you to walk and you reach the room efficiently. 

Christen makes quick work of getting you into the bathroom, grabbing a folding chair with her free hand. She sets that directly under a shower head, setting you on the chair. You whine, sobs increasing, as you try to wiggle off of the chair and back into someone’s arms. Christen catches you before you end up hitting your head again and sets you back in the middle of the chair. 

Keeping one hand on your waist, she tries to pull your shoes off. It’s almost impossible, especially when your crying and squirming increase tenfold. 

Christen looks behind her, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees a slightly flustered Ali. Ali rushes into the room, lifting you off of the chair and settling down with you in her lap. She keeps one arm firmly around you, patting your bum with the other while gently speaking to you. 

The two women work together to get you clean enough, your head injury and regression making you extremely uncooperative. When the women have you wrapped in a big towel and bring you back into the changing room, Christen looks around, surprised not to see all of her other teammates. 

“Where is everyone?” she asks Ali, “I thought the game was over.”

Ali shakes her head, “last I saw, there were about 14 minutes left in regular time. They should be finishing in the next 10 minutes or so.”

“And you’re here?” Christen says, turning the statement into a question. 

Ali nods, “I may have walked off the field and gotten an r-e-d card,” she spells out, knowing you won’t understand. “It’s worth it, I would do it again,” with that, she presses a kiss to the top of your freshly washed hair. 

And, finally, your cries stop. You’re still hiccuping and occasionally whining, but it’s like you knew what your Mama did for you. 

Christen smiles at the two of you, nodding in understanding, “I get it, I’d do the same for Mal. I’d do the same for Y/N too, but I would have to race you to be the first off.”

They continue conversing as they get you dried off and into a clean diaper and footed pajamas. You’re almost fully dressed when your head reminds you of why you were taken off early, the intense pain and movement causing you to throw up again. 

In a streak of luck, the vomit dribbled down your chest only where your pajamas had yet to be zipped. Ali comforts you as you begin crying, Christen taking a handful of baby wipes and cleaning you up. The two women had been team moms for long enough that they had gotten used to all of the not-so-glamorous parts. 

Fully clean (again) and dressed, your eyes begin closing. Ali digs through your little bag, pulling out a pacifier. She rubs it on your lips, getting your attention enough that you open your mouth and allow her to stick it in. You latch naturally, suckling rhythmically. 

Ali pulls your baby blanket out next, balling it up the way you usually do and putting it in your hand. When you grab it, you instinctively go to slam it to your face, the way you always do. Ali intercepts your hand, pulling the blanket away. Before you can fuss too much, she uses the corner of the blanket to trace your nose, brushing it over your eyes and repeating. The movement soothes you, the feeling comforting. 

Your eyes are still closed and sleep is approaching fast. When your Mama and Christen began talking, you knew there was no way to stop yourself from falling asleep, the soft voices and the vibrations of Mama’s chest as she spoke.