#the less you know someone the more serious it is

[artemisiasmuse]

sex ban | toxic rafe x toxic reader

cw: obvi mdni 18+, toxic jealous rafe, physical violence (not towards the reader), sex ban lifted!, p in v, multiple rounds, unprotected (don’t do this), munch of the year rafe, crying during sex, squirting, headlock, oral receiving for both of them, mentions of blood, again these bitches are crazy

~ 4k words

an: this was so filthy i think i need to go to church (im not even christian) also don’t know if how i described the positions made sense but we move T_T

“you can’t be serious?” rafe looked up from his hands, you’d cleaned off the blood all the while being extremely pissed off. you couldn’t believe he beat someone to a pulp, again, just for checking you out. you hated how good he looked covered in blood, hated how even now you could feel your underwear getting sticky from your arousal.

“i am, no sex for two weeks, maybe then you’ll stop being such an asshole!” surely you were joking, there’s no way you’d hold out on him that long. he knew he wouldn’t survive without your pussy and he prayed you would give up after a few days. his prayers weren’t answered.

two weeks passed with the ease of a thousand pounds dropped onto rafe’s shoulders. he was irritable all the time, practically blue-balled the entire time, and couldn’t stand being in the room with anyone that wasn’t you. at some point, after he begged to at least eat you out, you stopped letting him come over at night even. rafe was practically vibrating with need, yet you seemed so unaffected.

he had a fucking reminder set on his phone for midnight when the two weeks was over, of course he was already on the way to your place at 11:50. you expected nothing less, unlocking the door for him preemptively, and he huffed out a breath when he found you sitting on your couch watching tv like it was nothing. like you didn’t care. rafe was so pent up he might come from a single stroke of your tiny hand around his cock, but here you were, calm and collected. you muted the tv when you saw him, he sat next to you, leaving a gap he normally wouldn’t, and began to apologize.

“baby it’s been two weeks, i’m sorry okay? i’ll do better.”

“you said that last time.”

“i mean it this time, i won’t beat anyone up, unless you want me to.” you roll your eyes at his addition, turning your body to face him. rafe’s eyes tracked the way your shirt rode up your thighs, realizing it was actually his shirt. his mouth felt dry, he hadn’t been so hard from so little since he was a fucking preteen.

“okay.” you conceded, you kinda had to, rafe looked a lil too good like he knew the exact outfit that would make you forgive him easily. his hands were veiny and a ring accentuated his long thick fingers, fingers you missed dearly. yours just weren’t cutting it any more, he knew exactly how to touch you, fill you, make your mind numb. and that was just his fingers, his pink tongue had slipped out to lick at his lips and you can’t focus much longer, all the memories flashing by.

“okay?” rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he couldn’t believe you were taking him back so easily. he didn’t dare move or touch you until you confirmed.

“uh huh, your apology is accepted.” you nodded slow like molasses, your eyes already glazed over with need. he couldn’t tell, he was so caught up in his own desire. and as the word left your pretty lips, the spell was lifted.

“fuck come here” the words are empty, his large hand closes around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, his lips finding your own. you’d kissed the past two weeks but this is different, this is urgent. he’s sloppy with it, tongue peeking out into your mouth, tasting you, sucking on your tongue. it’s less of a kiss and more of a bite, he wants to consume you. you groan into his mouth, unsatisfied with the distance between you two and you move to straddle him. rafe pulls back at that, no he wouldn’t let you, he’d much rather have you on your back, he pushes you down by your neck, the slight pressure makes you keen. there’s no chance for you to sit back up when he’s leaning over you, settling between your legs and kissing you back down.

his kisses trail off, bites and open-mouthed kisses trailing your neck till he reaches your collarbone. your shirt is discarded with a blink of your eye and you wonder if he’s moving too fast. you can barely keep up when a mouth latches over your nipple, sucking harshly. “fuckkk i missed my girls” a lewd pop releases it from his mouth, giving attention to the other one and you arch into his touch. his large hand closes around the now sore nipple, pinching and massaging while he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it. the cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of his bites and you moan his name in desperation. the stickiness in your underwear is getting embarrassing and you feel like a fire is burning in your core. there’s no need for you to ask, rafe wants to eat, he’s been starving for weeks and your pussy is the only thing that can satiate him. after littering your chest and neck with hickies he kisses down your stomach, marveling at how soft your skin is, how he should never take an inch of it for granted any more. when he finally reaches your pink lace panties, he realizes it’s too much work to take them off you. that would require him getting off you and he really couldn’t afford to move an inch away. his fingers trace the flimsy material and he decides very quickly, tearing it off you with ease, and you hear the rip before you feel it. you don’t even notice him stuff the material into his pocket from the shock.

“rafe!” you don’t know if you’re mad or even more turned on but you wiggle under his gaze, blue eyes glued to your puffy and slick cunt. the tv screen illuminates enough for him to see his pretty girl is soaked. he nearly drools.

“getting in the way of my meal, i’ll buy you new ones.” he murmurs, not even looking away once, you huff at his words, and push his head down. he doesn’t need any encouragement, he’s nearly cumming in his pants from the sight of your pussy alone. if he could he’d take a polaroid of it and keep it in his pocket forever.

rafe is a man possessed, pushing you up the sofa length to make space for him between your legs, he hikes one up the cushions to rest on the back of the sofa, the other onto his shoulder so he can fit between them. you don’t even know if you exist to him any more because he’s smiling at your pussy like it’s his girlfriend instead. he shoves his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, it’s honey to his senses and his eyes flutter shut at how good you smell. then his tongue flattens against your pussy and he might just cry. you gasp at the feeling, wet and hard across your opening and clit, so brief you think you imagined it. rafe moans at the taste, let’s you coat his tongue before he goes back in for seconds, swirling his tongue along your weeping cunt until he’s thoroughly cleaned his plate. he’s moaning at your taste, tears pricking his eyes as it stains the back of his teeth, his hands grip your waist to drive you down to his tongue. he knows you’re gonna run from it, you always do. finally his tongue fills you up, delving into and cleaning you out, the feeling of the muscle squirming inside you makes you writhe in pleasure. “taste so fucking good, never letting this go again,” he slurs into you. you can feel yourself get wet again and he feels precum stain his boxers as more of your ichor slips down his throat. it’s not enough, he wants more, his right hand joins in, one finger curling into you along with his tongue and his thumb idly swirls along your clit. the combination of his tongue and finger fucking you and his drunken moans, make you come on his tongue embarrassingly fast. you’re gushing into his mouth more and rafe doesn’t even budge when you push at his forehead, the overstimulation stings and your poor walls flutter around his tongue, trying to drive him out, he only goes crazier. his tongue slips out a trail of saliva and your slick connecting him to you before he attaches his lips to your clit. you shake at the sensation, not yet come down from your previous orgasm. he sucks and laves over your clit, setting your body aflame. he takes the opportunity to slip another finger in, stretching you more than anything in the past two weeks, and he can tell your pussy is going to feel amazing on his cock. you’re struggling to take two fingers and he can’t help but moan at the thought. you hate how quickly he brings you to your next orgasm, your legs threatening to close around him and he makes a noise of disapproval. your mind feels numb now and you jump at his touches. rafe gives you a few seconds to recover, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, but when he tastes you again it’s not his fault he needs another hit. you’re a bit shocked yourself when he releases his hold on your legs and sits back. your wide round eyes making him chuckle at your disbelief. “you’re gonna sit on my face baby.” he resounds and you blink at him twice before sitting up, you wince at the way you’re drooling onto the couch and how you suddenly feel empty. rafe positions himself with his head poised for your pussy to sit on. you gawk at him.

“won’t i crush you?” besides your question you’re raised up ob your knees almost hovering over him, he could just-

“shut the fuck up.” he pulls you close and pushes your hips down to sit you down himself, your sloppy cunt meeting his lips and he’s in heaven. he wants to die like this, suffocated by your pussy. you try to shift your weight back onto your knees but he doesn’t let you, holding you down by your ass. when he licks up into you, you lose your resolve entirely. if he was a mess before, now he’s a goner. he’s spitting up into you, making out with your cunt and swirling his tongue along you, along every inch he can. your rock your cunt over his face, lost in pleasure and when his nose bumps your clit your legs nearly close on his head, he groans at the pressure. you’re practically dripping into his mouth and it’s all he could ask for; tears falling down his face just mix in with the mess of liquids running down his face and pooling on his neck and chest. you continue to rock against him, your cushiony thighs closing around his head and rafe feels himself twitch in his pants, he’s so fucking close just from eating you out. but he can’t even find it in him to care, no he’s crying from how good you taste, he’s past the point of caring. when you finally cum around his tongue he comes in his pants, moaning as you scream his name. you’re shaking uncontrollably, riding out your orgasm and thrashing along his face. your thighs press tightly against his head and he continues to drink you in, until finally your legs give out and you fall off him.

“pussy so good i came in my pants and you’re gonna clean it up.” you look at him in a daze, your body moving on its own accord, moving to your knees on the carpet. your body’s shaking but you still manage to claw at his buttons. “good girl.” he smiles down at you, chin and lips wet from your release and he’s not even dreaming of wiping himself clean, he wants it to stain him, seep into his pores. a whine crawls up your throat as you work his pants off, he’s sitting on the couch in front of you and you want to help him so badly. his cock finally springs free and he breathes out in relief, the cool air making him more sensitive after his release. the worst part is he’s still fucking hard. your eyes round at the sight of him, come lining his length, dribbling down the veins and blushed pink top. it’s so pretty you can’t help but stare. rafe slips a hand around your face, pulling you in, making you stop your staring and instead get to work. you might be drooling from the sight, it’s hard to tell because your mouth closes around him and everything is already so wet. a sick squelch resounds in the air as you lick up and down his length, he fights the urge to thrust into the wet tight heat of your mouth. you make sure to clean up his balls, your hand jerking him off while you’re down there, “fuck you’re doing so well baby.”

“missed this rafey” you hum at the taste of his come, thick and gooey on your tongue and the vibration makes him twitch in your mouth. rafe feels so close already, you’ve already cleaned him up, now you’re just cock drunk, taking him down as far as you can and pressing kisses to his tip. he doesn’t want it to end like this no, he’d rather fill you up properly, so he pulls your head off his length with a pop! and you glare at him and whine, like an insolent puppy whose toy was taken away. there’s a delicious sting from the hair he pulled and heat pools in your stomach again, you can’t tell if you’re wet or if it’s rafe’s saliva you like to think it’s both.

“come here.” rafe hoists you onto his lap, giving you two seconds to adjust before he lifts you both up and makes his way to your bedroom. his shirt comes off along with yours and you clamber up the length of your mattress to rest your head on your pillow while you still can. from how angry and hard his cock still is you know it’s gonna be a long night.

“remember your safe word right?” rafe flips you over, your momentary comfort gone just like that, he presses against your back hard. your ass perks into the air while he arches you just so. he’s waiting for your response, because one look at your pussy, glistening from another wave of desire, rafe knows he’s going to find it impossible to hold back. he’s vibrating with a need to fuck you already, dribbles of precum spurting out of him against his stomach. what a waste, there’s a perfect little hole that could use it. he smacks your ass once, lightly just to remind you to use your words.

“yes, fuck me please.” your voice is muffled against your bedsheets, but he hears it perfectly. when his tip presses against your tight hole, he thinks he might be religious. not to god or anything else, just you. you’re sucking in him, holding your cheeks apart for him like you know he likes and he groans at how you feel like silk around him. your cunt’s so warm and tight, rafe thinks he might never leave you again. once his tip is in you remember how to breathe, the initial stretch finally over. he can’t give you the time you need to adjust, he might start crying again, or worse come early. rafe pushes the rest of his inches in, bullying his way in, pressing you into the mattress just so your cunt could give in. you scream at the feeling of him being all the way in, the angle making him nestle against your g-spot while his tip rubs against your cervix. you feel ropes of pre spurt inside you and you feel tears slip down your cheeks from the pain, you know it hurts, you just can’t find it in you to care.

“s’good,” you’re mind is numb, the only thoughts are spiraling around your boyfriend and his stupid long cock. a sick ring of come and your slick circles the base of his length, his pubes soaked from both of you. he can’t hold back any more, not when you’re wiggling your hips for more. rafe pulls out all the way and slaps back into you, pulling you into him just so he can really fill you all the way. the force of his thrust and the way he tip nudges along your walls, grazing where you needed him most, as you screaming in pleasure, your poor pussy closing on him just so he can stay inside. not that it matters he’s hammering in and out of you so fast you think you might get whiplash. his hips drive you down into the mattress, stuffing you as much he can so you don’t run from it, like you’re already trying to do.

“fuck fuck fuck! too much hng rafe i can’t-“ the slap of his hips against yours are almost bruising, he’s pulling you back by a tight hold around you and it’s hard to breathe. there’s a pressure building in you that you don’t recognize and it’s almost painful how bad it feels to go unaddressed, something must be wrong. but rafe can feel himself getting close, just from your pathetic whines and screams.

“you can and you will.” there’s no room for argument when he’s flipping you onto your back, your head jostling and you blink away the tears in your eyes. you want to see him, want to look into his pretty eyes, rafe can’t help but laugh at your desperate expression. no, he’s no too far gone.

“dumb little girl, i could tell you were turned on, you know?” he maneuvers you onto your side, spooning you and pulling your leg over his so he can slip back in. the new angle steals your breath as you try to focus on what he just said, panic seeping into your system.

“wh-no i wasn’t.” you shake your head insolently, he’s rolling his eyes at your meager denial. his thrusts start out slow, testing the limits of how far he can reach, and it’s not far. a huff of annoyance teases the shell of your ear and you gulp at his proximity.

“tell me the truth and i’ll let you come.” it’s a whisper, soft and sweet, you know what’s to come will be anything but.

“fine! you looked so hot covered in blood-“ he grabs under your knee and lifts it up, slamming deeper into you cutting you off. “oh my god-“ rafe can’t handle not being all the way in, he loves the way his head kisses your cervix, how his veins have molded you to fit them, how he can feel come slipping out of you and dribbling down his length since there’s no space for anything. an addiction, one that he won’t give up. “that doesn’t make it-rafe!-okay!” you manage to get out between thrusts

“yeah yeah i get it.” he’s had enough of your lecturing, the arm that’s not holding your knee, loops around your front, closing around your neck and throat. his thick bicep presses against you in a headlock and he leverages the tight grip to pull you back into him, shutting you up finally. the only sounds that can be heard are of your pretty pussy squelching and gasping for him to be back inside. there’s the occasional moan from you when his grip loosens and the curses and groans from him, but mostly the room sounds like a porno. you’re not sure if you came or you ever stopped coming but your pussy feels warm and fuzzy, like it’s just given up on trying to decipher pleasure and pain.

“can’t come-fuck-need to” rafe frustrates himself with how quickly he feels like he needs to come. his balls are pinched tight, aching for release but he can’t stop, he needs to make it right, make it perfect. rafe won’t admit it anyone else but he’s so in love with you he hates coming without looking in your eyes. his hold on your neck releases and you slump forward tears and drool staining the mattress.

“pretty baby, you’ll give me one more yeah?” somehow rafe knows when you’re cumming, you stopped noticing. you nod dumbly, blurry eyes vaguely make out his face as he finally lets you rest on your back. your body aches and your legs haven’t stopped shaking, but you still welcome him with open legs. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead, shoving into you again, his thrusts aren’t so hurried this time, he’s savoring it. the slow drag of his tip inside of you warms you. you stop crying when he lifts your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, he wipes your tears and kisses down into you. the position is familiar, one of your favorites, and you kiss him back, it’s salty and messy but you can taste the words i love you.

“most beautiful girl in the world, fuck ,how did i get so lucky?” he peppers your face with kisses, giggles erupting from your lips and he can’t believe you’re his.

“love you rafey.” you say it so sweetly anyone would think he’s not 9 inches deep inside you, in a mean mating press.

“i love you angel, can i come inside?” your eyes light up, you both rarely do it since birth control is horrible on your body, but you can’t help but love how it feels.

“please…fill me up.” the words make his dick twitch inside you, more precum dribbling out of your cunt.

“fuckkk gonna get you pregnant, then everyone will know you’re mine.” he’s mumbling to himself, rocking back and forth and a whine leaves your lips. you should be concerned with how possessive your boyfriend is, you know that, but the image he paints in your head is too tempting.

“please.” you kiss his right arm that supports his weight next to your head and he smiles down at you. rafe takes it as his signal to pull out and fuck down into you, your mind blanks. it doesn’t take more than a few hard thrusts for the pressure building inside you to finally snap, seeing white under your eyes as you gasp and scream his name. you’re squirting onto him before you realize it, soaking his chest and dick and he keeps fucking you through it until you stop. rafe can’t help but lose himself as you do it, fucking down so brutally you think he might rip your cervix, if it’s even possible, the overstimulation claws at your senses and you fight the urge to push him away, scratching down his back instead. rafe feels his balls pinch and he can’t hold back any longer, you’re pulsing around him riding out your orgasm and he shoots gooey ropes inside of you. thick and never ending, coating your walls and slipping out the sides, the angle at least keeps most of it in, just like he wants it.

“can’t believe you squirted.” when he finally stops spurting into you, he pulls out, your legs falling to your side as you wince at the aches in your body. without the cloud of pleasure you can feel how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

“sorry” you mumble, turning to where he lays beside you and he shakes his head.

“nah baby i’m gonna make you do it every time.” a wolfish smirk graces his features and you decide you’ll never do a sex ban again. you won’t survive it next time.

[empress-ghoul]

You’ve gotten good at getting a sense for these sorts of things. A feeling in your chest, a twist in your gut, a sixth sense, if you will. You think you’d prefer your sixth sense to be seeing ghosts, rather than sensing when creepy men are going to approach you.

You just wanted a drink. It had been a long fucking day at work and you just wanted a drink without worrying about actually talking to people. That was why you sat at the end of the bar.

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home. Your sixth sense had told you that going into the bar was a bad idea. At least then this guy wouldn’t be talking to you.

He was attractive at least, but you couldn’t be in less of a mood and he was practically sitting on top of you.

“Rough day?” he asked.

Your eye nearly twitched. “Something like that.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “I can tell.”

And he was rude. Cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a glare, your lip curling slightly into a snarl. “Yeah,” you mimic. “You don’t look too hot either, asshole.”

Cash is handed to the bartender and you reach for your bag. He beats you to it, gripping the strap in an iron hold. Indignation rises. Part of you wants to wrestle it back, but the other part knows you’d just end up embarrassing yourself.

“We got off on the wrong foot,” he begins. “I’m Johnny—“

“I’m not interested. Bag. Now.”

You hold your hand out, but something tells you he’s not the type to listen.

That feeling is confirmed when he laughs. Yet another cherry on top.

“How about this; I buy you a drink and you get your bag back after?”

There’s a beat of silence where you nearly laugh. Was he serious? You’re about to ask him when he’s suddenly ordering for you and holding your bag in his lap.

You had to bargain with your tired mind, telling yourself that you were getting a free drink out of this. Frustrated, yet resigned, you sit back down.

He grins at you and your sixth sense prickles the back of your neck.

Johnny was good at talking and part of you almost felt bad. He seemed lonely. You were certain only a lonely, mildly insane person would steal a purse and buy the purse owner a drink just to have someone to talk to.

But you were lonely too. Only a lonely, mildly insane person would let him buy more drinks after getting their purse back.

You barely noticed the hand on your thigh. By the time you did, he was right in your face.

“Bonnie thing, aren’t you?” he purred.

That’s how you ended up getting tugged back to his apartment. He kept an arm around your waist and your bag in his hand the entire walk. Right outside the door, when his hand was on the doorknob, you realized how bad of an idea this was.

One night stands weren’t exactly your thing, especially not on a weeknight. You had a little bit of dignity, after all.

Plus, your sixth sense practically vibrated in your chest to tell you to turn and run. But suddenly the door was open and he was pushing you inside.

The door shut and locked behind you both, and suddenly you were standing in front of a wall of a man. Your throat tightened when you felt Johnny’s arms around your waist, trapping you in place.

“What’d you think, LT?” Johnny asked, squeezing you tighter.

He sounded so eager, so hopefully.

You stared up at the man in front of you. He looked…bored? Almost uninterested. Similar to a wolf who caught a meal too easily.

Despite being tipsy on the walk from the bar to here, you were suddenly stone cold sober and frozen in place.

A massive hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head up. A calloused thumb brushed over your bottom lip, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to scream. Only tremble as Johnny rubbed a stubbly cheek against your soft one.

“This the one you told me ‘bout?” the enormous man asked.

Something hard pressed against the fat of your ass as Johnny smiled. “Yeah, the one from the train,” he preened, clearly proud of himself. “Can we keep her?”

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Clingy Girlfriend (Grace Clinton X Russo Reader)

Summary: If is time England Camp and you finally See your girlfriend again. You two are doing Long Distance because she plays for Manchester United and you okay for FC Barcelona.

Warnings: some talks about siblings having to compete with one another, migraine, throwing up.

"Baby!" You hear Grace voice and then you nearly got knocked over because she was jumping on your back, but you managed to keep her up with your arms and steady yourself so you wouldn't fall.

"hey Love!" You said and smiled gently. "I guess asking If you missed me isn't necessary anymore after this!" You replied and giggled softly. Ella walked over with your sister.

"hey little Sis!" Alessia said and smiled at you.

"thank god you are here! Every day at practice she was talking about you y/n! It was getting annoying!" Tooney told you, playfully rolling her eyes.

"hey Less! Hey Ella! What can i say? I am amazing!" You let them know. Winking softly, obviously joking. "But on a serious Note, GracieBean? Where is my kiss?" You asked. Grace quickly got down from your back and turned you around. Kissing you softly. You kiss back and smile into the kiss.

"get a room!" Your sister yelled out, chuckling softly.

"These two in one room and the entire floor won't be able to sleep at night! They haven't seen eachother in a while! So they aren't sharing!" Leah stated, walking over. Smirking softly.

"hello Captain!" You answered teasingly. Hugging Leah, before hugging your best friend Hannah. "Hi Hampton!" You playfully said. "Hi little R." She answered, hugging you back. Smirking softly.

You shared a room with Beth while Grace shared one with Lucy. It did feel like the two were chosen to make sure the two of you didn't sneak into eachothers rooms. Both of you clearly weren't happy about this.

It didn't take long before there was a knock on the door of your room, which Beth opened and Grace walked straight past her, into your open arms.

"i needed some cuddles!" She informed you.

"you two saw eachother like 40 minutes ago!" Beth stated. "I know long distance sucks. But please remember to Focus on Camp too!" She added.

You and Grace look at her, frowning softly.

"playing for two different countries and making a relationship work is way harder then playing for two different Teams in the same country. Both hard but it's even more challenging for us." Grace explained. She sure didn't sound like a 21 year old. But more like someone in their 30s with way more life experience then she actually had. Same goes for you though. You are 22 years old.

"yeah Beth i agree. For you and Viv it's challenging, for us it's even worse." You replied and held Grace close.

"i know, i know." Beth answered with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"we are very professional and when we are on the pitch or at practice we will be very focused!" You tell her gently. Offering her a small smile.

"okay good. i will be downstairs and play some games with some of the Girls. So you two can have some alone time, just remember we have practice in three hours." She stated and smiled at you before leaving the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

You cuddle with Grace, fingers intertwined. Kissing every now and then. Just enjoying eachothers company.

"i feel so lucky that i get to love you!" Grace told you. You smile at her.

"you are sweet Babe. But i am the lucky one! I can't believe how much love i always feel from you. You don't make me feel like i am second best or like i have to compete for favorite Russo." You explain to her. "I know it's not a competition and i am proud to be Lessis sister but it just sucks that people always seem to compare the two of us!" You admitted. She kissed your head. Holding you as close as possible.

"you two may be sisters but you both have your own personality! And you are different people! There shouldn't be people comparing you with one another!" Grace stated. "And if that helps, i like your sister but for obvious reasons you are my favorite Russo!" She added and smiled a little. You smiled back.

"i would hope so." You replied with a genuine giggle escaping your lips.

You two get ready for practice in your seperate rooms before meeting up with everyone else in the Hotel Lobby.

"the lovebirds actually managed to make it on time!" Tooney said teasingly.

"i am always on time!" You stated and chuckled softly.

"not always!" Alessia replied, teasingly.

"okay you two leave the little lovebirds alone!" Mary answered with a soft smile. You walked to the trainings pitch, holding Grace' hand while talking to Hannah.

You did some drills and partnerd up with Grace, no one was surprised about that. The two of you were working well together. It was like, you didn't even have to talk to one another ,but still managed to communicate with your eyes.

After that you did some practice games. 3vs3 and you played with Ella & Leah against Beth, Lucy & Jess. This was alot of fun and a good way to start of England Camp.

When practice was done you all went to shower and decided to meet up for Team Dinner later that day.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. Putting on some England shorts & an England Hoodie, before walking out of the bathroom and over to your bed. Beth went to take a shower next. You felt a migraine coming up so you took some meds, hoping you caught it just in time. But unfortunately around 10 minutes later you realized that it in fact was too late so the migraine was in full swing now.

You laid on your bed. Legs pulled up to your stomach. Eyes closed. Focusing on your breathing, wanting to breathe through the pain.

Beth walked out of the bathroom, dressed up in an outfit that was similiar to yours. She saw you lying there and knew right away what was going on. Having seen that many times when Viv had a migraine. Cause unfortunately the dutch Woman struggled with it as well.

"sweets, anything i can do?" Beth whispered out. You sniffle softly.

"can you get Grace for me, please?" You asked her.

"yes of course." She answered but closed the blinds before she left, walking to Grace' room. Lucy was the one who opened the door.

"what's up, Meado?" Lucy asked.

"is grace here? Y/n is asking for her. She is having a full on Migraine right now." The blonde answered.

"damn, poor, Russo!"Lucy stated, not having much time to say anything else because Grace was already walking past them. In a hurry to get to you. Beth quickly followed her. When the door to the room was opened you weren't in your bed anymore though. No both Grace & Beth could hear you throwing up.

"i will be hanging out with Leah, good luck!" Beth turned around and walked out quickly. She wasn't good with hearing people throwing up but always managed to pull through when it came to Viv.

Grace walked into the bathroom , kneeling down next to you. Rubbing your back and holding your hair. "I have got you babe." She whispered out.

After a few minutes you were finally done. Leaning against Grace.

"i am so angry with myself." You sobbed out. Grace was really confused, frowning softly.

"Love this isn't your fault!" She said softly. Kissing your head gently.

"feels like my body is betraying me! We see eachother only a few times a year and i now manage to ruin one of the times with a migraine. I am sorry Baby!" You sighed sadly and tried to stop yourself from having a full on emotional breakdown.

"hey stop. This isn't your fault! You didn't ask for that migraine!" She answered. Cuddling you and managing to calm you down. Helping you brush your teeth before carrying you back to bed. Holding you close. Laying down with you. You took a hold of her like a koala baby did to it's momma, but you didn't care how clingy you were right now. All you wanted was to be close to your girlfriend.

You ended up sleeping for the rest of the day, Grace staying with you the entire time. She even spend the night and Beth stayed with Lucy.

You felt much better the next day but everyone still was keeping an eye on you. Especially Grace but also your sister. It was good to know that you both were clingy. And neither one of you cared.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Blabber Mouth; Anemo Men

x gn!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: February 9th, 2025

Description: Anemo version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW a few suprise pregnancies I put Wanderer in here, but I personally subscribe to trans-man Wanderer because why would Raiden give him a male body? Also, this series is slowly separating from the original prompt and I feel like I'm just making these kids psychic but shhh, babies

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

Back to directory

Aether

Kids , he likes them but never really thought they were in his future

I mean, he’s always traveling with his sister, it’s not until Teyvat that he kind of settles down

Abyss!Aether or Traveler!Aether, they meet you and staying here doesn’t sound too bad

Your first is an accident, they make the decision for him

Not that he wanted to leave you anyways

Your second is planned, but your first born beats you to tell him

Aether comes back from wherever he was, helping Khaenri’ah, a commission, ruling the Abyssal Khaeri’ans, and your kid tackles him in a hug

Then, without you saying anything, they talk about reading a story to the baby

And you play mock offense thinking they were reading to you and Aether is trying to figure out what baby

You send your kid off to clean up their toys so you can talk

Aether drops to his knees and hugs your waist

Xiao

It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, he just doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want another thing he can’t have

He can’t be around people normally, being around an infant? Bad idea

So, you’d have to be anything but a mortal, someone who can be around him despite his debt

Then, he gives it some thought and he’s still really not sure

It takes many conversations for him to see your side of things

Cries the first time he holds your baby

As your first grows up, he tries to figure out how to broach the subject of having another

You laugh when he finally gets it out, face red, and quickly apologize before saying another sounds nice

Your kid is very defensive, and they try defending you from one of the dogs around Wangshuu inn one day

When you ask what’s wrong, because normally the dogs aren't a problem, your kid says they saw the dog scare a baby the other day

Takes you both a second to figure out how that correlates and then it’s a trip to Baizhu

He cries, the first time it wasn’t real to him until he held the baby but this time it’s real from the start

Venti

You guys start talking about having kids, and he’s not even sure he can have them

Like, he’s a windspirit and sure he’s in human form but how far does that extend

So your first born is a bit of a surprise

But he’s so happy, sings to them all the time while your pregnant

He drinks less too, can’t be drinking at Angel’s share when he’s trying to wrangle the little whirlwind into bed

It’s one such night when your little one runs out of their room and into yours

They curl up with you in your bed, and Venti’s trying to convince them to sleep in their bed

They declare they want to sleep with their sibling

You stop reading/pretending to sleep, confused, and Venti just gives in

They make a good point, how could he pull such a protective big sibling away from their little sibling

Venti’s been around enough to know that children can just tell these things

So he just wraps you all up in his wings and you go to Barbara in the morning

If either of your kids are boys, he’s naming him after the nameless bard

Kazuha

Kids… he wants them, he doesn’t want his family line to end with him

But, it’s not really an option when he’s on the run

Once he returns to Inazuma though, he gives it more serious thought

Spending time in the forge, he sees kids run by a lot and watches their awe as they watch him

He brings it up to you, and you have your first born

We don’t know what his friend’s name is, but your first born is getting named after him

Even if he has to alter it a little bit

He likes to write poetry with your kid, it helps their vocabulary, creativity, and fine motor skills

You two also use it to encourage their self expression

So they express their excitement about the friend in your belly

That poem is getting framed, it makes you both laugh

Heizou

Likes playing with the kids in the city and around Ritou

Hasn’t really considered kids of his own

It’s not until he sees you with the kids that he starts thinking about it

I think your first is an accident, but his excitement even surprises him a bit

Not that he thought he wouldn’t be happy/excited

And your kid takes after their father’s investigative curiosity

So you start acting off and they’re running their own investigation

This one is less of a “little kid sixth sense” and more like “mini detective”

They even get Heizou to join in the investigation

But there’s definitely a bit of weird sibling psychic-ness, your first born predicts baby's gender later on

Everyone’s excited, you first born is already planning investigations to do with them

Extra note, but Heizou definitely takes your infants on easy investigations strapped to his chest in a baby harness

Wanderer

I… don’t think he can have kids, I personally think he was not modeled with the required hardware (fully believe his original model was at least a ken doll and and at most fem)

But, between handling the electro gnosis and being around Dottore, I could see him getting the hardware and systems

I do not think he knows he has these systems, mostly because he’s never tried

So your kid is an accident

And Wanderer has a lot of thoughts but, I think he holds the baby and decides that he can do this

First baby’s name is Niwa

This kid has him wrapped around their finger, and he’s happy with one

And now that you two know he can get you pregnant you two are more careful

Your kid asks for a sibling and he’s not one to deny them if you’re okay with it

They’re also the one to tell you, one day they just press a kiss to your tummy before Wanderer puts them to bed for the night

Tighnari’s in the city, so you check in with him before he leaves

I think Wanderer surprises himself with the love he feels for his kids

[fuck1ng-queen]

Less Complicated

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: none actually, enemies to lovers

Author comments: hey bestiessss! this is the first oneshot i'm posting to celebrate valentine's day with bad omens and i'm so excited to this week because i'll post one per day! i hope you all like it and see you tomorrow! 💕

The wind was blowing so hard you could hear it. You pressed your arms against your body, trying your best to close your coat around you. The leafless trees danced under the light of the streetlamps. A few small piles of snow piled up on the damp sidewalks, reflecting the brightness of the shop windows decorated with red hearts and shiny letters. The distant sound of laughter and conversations between couples walking by created a cozy backdrop, contrasting with your loneliness as you walked. Valentine's Day had never been a special day for you, it was just another one when the world around you was immersed in hearts and flowers. As you walked to the café on the corner, the one you always went to when you felt lonely, your thoughts were occupied with the upcoming exhibition you were organizing for the local gallery. It was the only thing that still kept you distracted from it all.

The sound of music in the distance caught your attention. You frowned in disapproval as you recognized the melody of the famous song by the band you avoided listening to so much. More specifically, the lead singer you'd rather forget: Noah.

Noah had always been a constant presence in your life, but not always for the best reasons. Ever since high school, your lives seemed intertwined by an inexplicable rivalry. He was the kind of person who always made a point of annoying you, as if he knew exactly where every single one of your vulnerabilities was. How could someone who hated you so much get to know you so well? And to make things worse, he did it with pleasure, always with a smile on his face that at the time you could die for, but you would never tell anyone that you found it attractive.

The music in the distance brought back memories. The fierce competitions to be the best student in the class, the discussions about who was the most creative in the projects, the challenging looks you exchanged every chance you got. Noah always found a way to unsettle you, with his unfunny jokes and constant teasing. He knew exactly how to make you angry.

“Do you really think you can beat me?” Noah scoffed after one of the many competitions you’ve entered.

“At least I make an effort, unlike you who only rely on your own cheap charm,” you retorted, with sparks in your eyes.

“Charm? I didn’t know you noticed,” he replied with that mischievous smile that only pissed you off even more.

Inside the café, the warmth and the scents welcomed you. You took off your coat and sat down by the window, opening your computer to revise a few things. You were so immersed in your work that you almost didn't notice when a man entered the café, shaking the snow out of his hair and heading for the counter. He looked different from what you remembered, maybe more mature, but still with that carefree air that irritated you so much. You blinked a few times until you believed it was none other than Noah.

“I can’t believe it.” His voice brought you back to reality.

You looked up, forcing a polite smile. “Noah.”

“You here? I swear I didn’t expect to see you.” He smiled, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m working. What about you?”

“Show. We're in town. It looks like the band is still following you,” he joked, and you let out a sigh.

“Unfortunately, it seems so.” You turned your attention back to the screen, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But Noah wasn't the type of person to be ignored so easily. He ordered a coffee and sat down at your table, facing you. “Why are you always so serious? Isn't it Valentine's Day? You should be having fun.”

“And what about you? Where's your romantic day?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't have one. My passion is music, remember?” He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee.

“Of course. How could I forget?” you replied, with a touch of sarcasm. “You play everywhere.”

“You always notice, then” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “But what about you, still organizing those art exhibitions?” Noah asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Yes, that's my job,” you replied as dryly as you could, turning your eyes back to your laptop.

“You know, you really take all this seriously. Haven't you ever thought about relaxing a bit?” he teased.

You sighed and closed your laptop with an audible click. “Noah, why do you always feel the need to tease me?”

“Because it's fun to see you get angry,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “But maybe I also like to see you a little out of your comfort zone.”

“You don't change, do you? Always the same Noah, eager to be the center of attention,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

“And you, always so focused, so determined,” he said softly. “Maybe that's what I admire about you.”

You couldn't help but be surprised by the honesty in his voice. “Admire? You?”

“Yes. As much as we fight, I've always admired your passion for what you do. We're artists, we can't deny that we're passionate, and I admire that in you. Even if I don't say it often,” Noah admitted, looking directly into your eyes.

You felt disconcerted. You weren't used to this vulnerable version of Noah, let alone a compliment from him, or the way you felt, unable to arm yourself for a response. You looked away, trying to process what he had said.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, not knowing what to say.

Noah smiled, realizing that he had managed to disarm you. “Who knows, maybe we should try being friends for once?”

You arched an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Friends? I don't know if we're ready for that.”

“Maybe not now, but who knows in the future?” Noah replied, getting up to leave. “Anyway, it was good to see you. Good luck with the new exhibition.”

“Thank you, Noah. Good luck with your presentation,” you replied, watching as Noah left the café.

(...)

In the following days, you tried to concentrate on your work, but the conversation with Noah kept going through your head. He seemed different, more sincere, more vulnerable. It made you uneasy.

On the opening night of the exhibition, you were nervous. The lights in the gallery shone brightly, reflecting the meticulously selected paintings and sculptures. You ran your eyes over everything, as if there were still some detail or other that might have gone unnoticed, in an attempt to suppress your nervousness.

“It's perfect,” Noah's voice sounded next to you, soft and encouraging.

You turned to him, surprised to see him there. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to support you. We're artists, I know how lonely today can be for you. I thought you might need a friend tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

You felt a genuine wave of gratitude at that moment, making you smile back. “Thank you, Noah. It means a lot to me.”

“Can I ask you something?” Noah hesitated, as if choosing every word he was going to say.

“Of course,” you replied, curious.

“Why have you always hated me so much?” The question was direct, but there was a vulnerability in his voice that made you feel your stomach lurch.

You took a deep breath, staring at him. “It was never hate, Noah. I think it was... fear. Fear of how you made me feel. You were always so free, so confident, and I didn't know how to deal with it.”

“Fear?” Noah asked, surprised. “I never wanted to scare you. I always thought you hated me because well... I've always been a jerk to you.”

You laughed softly, despite your serious look. “And you were. But I was also a bit stubborn and proud. The two of us were always competing, always trying to prove I don't know what to I don't know who. Maybe we were actually trying to hide what we really felt.”

“And what did we really feel?” Noah asked in a soft tone, but full of curiosity.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on his eyes. “I think we were afraid of getting hurt. It was easier to fight than to admit that maybe there was something more. Something we didn't know how to deal with.”

“I won't deny it, I always felt there was something more,” Noah admitted. “But I didn't know how to tell you. Every time I tried, we ended up fighting. And then I thought, maybe it's better this way. Less complicated.”

“Less complicated, more painful,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “As time went by, I kept thinking about all the things I wish I'd told you, but never did. There was always a barrier between us, something we never knew how to cross.”

Noah took a step closer, gently holding your hand. You didn't remember, but that was probably the first time you touched each other, and it gave you goosebumps. “I always felt that there was something big between us. Maybe it's too late, but I think I'd still like to explore it with you.” 

You felt your heart soar at his words. “Noah, I feel it too. I think I want to stop running away.” 

He smiled, gently pulling you closer. “So, what do you say about starting now? My name is Noah and I sing in a band.” He smiled, holding out his hand to shake yours.

You giggled, feeling your face heat up. You smiled back, your eyes shining with the chance of a new hope, feeling that the truce between you could last forever.

.

Masterlist | Valentine's Day One Shots

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@lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm @blade-dressed-in-red

Send me an ask to join my taglist

[thoughts-i-have-had-in-passing]

I was thinking about how the Trill got like that and have come up with a new (for me, someone else has probably though of it already somewhere) theory.

It has to do with the Guardians. You know, the slightly odd-acting Trill who care for the symbionts. The first time we met one he identified Dax without recognising the host, which means that he could sense not just the presence of 'a' symbiont, but specific symbionts. Dude was clearly a little bit psychic.

The next time we meet one it's because Jadzia has been a naughty host and not gone back to Trill for her Zhian'tara, so he's come to her. Seeing how easily he moves entire clusters of memories like he's playing musical Katras, it appears that to be a guardian you must have some pretty serious psychic ability, which no other Trill who appears on the show demonstrates in any way at all.

So the theory: The hosts used to be prey for the much more mobile and parasitic symbionts, who would stalk them through the marshland by the waters before taking over their bodies and using them to complete their lifecycle or something along those lines. Maybe they laid eggs in them idk.

Anyway, over time some hosts developed a small amount of psychic ability as a warning system, protecting the clan by sensing when the little bastards were coming. To counter this the symbionts got smarter and more adaptable, to which the hosts got even smarter, kick-starting sapience in both species. At which point a proto-guardian detected actual thought in the symbiont and, for the first time ever, reached out to answer.

Tell you what, how about we share? Asks the symbiont, somewhat rattled by this new development.

You can do that? Asks the proto-guardian.

Suuuure, says the symbiont, Don't you want to know what those old markings mean in that cave over there? I helped write them you know.

It goes well, and the over time the symbionts get less mobile and the hosts get more into it, while the Guardians, as per their ancient role, maintain the bridge between them.

[thewadapan]

School Days review

Yeah, School Days is actually pretty good after all.

When you google "School Days", on the first page of results there's a reddit thread asking "hey, why do people hate this show?" OP gives a succinct summary of the show's themes and praises it for its tight focus and psychological depth.

The comments in that thread are fucking crazy. The top-voted comment includes this absolute gem: "Sekai is an emotionally manipulative bitch". Some users gesture towards a faint understanding that School Days is a deconstruction of harem anime, but almost to a one they claim the character writing is unrealistic. Nobody seems able to look past the show's metatextual meaning to just look at it on a straightup subtextual level—that is to say, it's not just being different to other anime for the sake of contrarianism, it's making a serious point about misogyny and toxic masculinity. Describing Makoto as a "character" at all is almost missing the point; he's practically a force of nature, and the vast majority of the show is concerned with the psychological manoeuvring of the girls in his class trying to manage and shape his behaviour.

I only know about School Days because @weaselandfriends is constantly banging a drum about it being a secret masterpiece. Gee, I wonder who the OP of that thread was! Cannot imagine being on a "School Days slaps" grindset for eight fucking years now.

(CW: discussion of underage sex, full spoilers follow)

I'm going to take a cowardly centrist route and say that School Days does in fact slap on a conceptual level, but that the execution in many places leaves a bit to be desired. It often feels repetitive. I watched the thing on 1.5x speed because, as someone who reads fast, watching subbed anime is like watching paint dry. The dialogue often feels awkward (unintentionally so, as in), which I'm willing to partially chalk up to the translation; maybe some of the clunkier lines feel more natural in the original Japanese. The imagery is often kind of laughably blunt: in some cases it works, like Kotonoha's red yarn like she's pulling her own fucking arteries out of her body, and in other cases it feels derivative and hackneyed, like the whistling kettle in the final episode. Maybe that was more original in 2007, I don't know—I would've seen the same thing in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire two years prior.

School Days does set out to pull the wool over the eyes of its presumably-mostly-young-men audience, by putting them in Makoto's POV. The show is adapted from an eroge, where the player literally would have inhabited Makoto and made his choices for him, and the "objective" of the game would have been to unlock sex scenes with all the schoolgirls. The trick with the anime is that it removes the possibility of choice, creating an impactful dissonance as Makoto's actions become increasingly alien and harmful. Inversely, as Makoto's sexual exploits escalate, we see less and less of them; by the end, the whole thing is routine, not eroticised in the slightest, we see people putting clothes on afterwards, sneaking around darkened rooms.

At the start, though, it's all panty shots and boobs. And like, how do you depict the objectification of women, from an internal perspective, without just... objectifying women? This has basically always been the classic problem with satire. If there is a way of doing it, School Days hasn't figured it out, so it just rolls up its sleeves and gets on with it. Where School Days stumbles, in my opinion, is that the fanservice shots leak out of Makoto's POV and into the scenes where it's just the girls on their own. Nevertheless, I think that even pretty early on School Days is unmistakably saying, "this is a bad thing". There's a discordant note to everything, a threat of another shoe waiting to drop. At the start, it takes the form of these innocuous remarks as the characters try to interact in good faith: Sekai is constantly like, "There's nothing wrong with feeling attracted to a girl! But maybe she doesn't feel comfortable with it! Have you thought about how she might feel?"

That's the great tension of Sekai, and indeed of much of the show's conflict: there is a world where Makoto and Sekai are just friends, and where Makoto is faithful to Kotonoha, and everyone lives happily ever after. Maybe Sekai really is earnestly trying to cross this gulf between genders, and wants to just make Makoto understand, so everyone can be happy. But from the start, there's a question of Sekai's motives; embodied by Sekai's friend Setsuna, who trails after her constantly asking, "But do you like him really?"

Setsuna is an interesting character with her own motives. There's a reading where she has a crush on Sekai, but can't pursue it because of her family's impending emigration; she ends up hanging around Makoto and desperately attempting to protect him from the consequences of his actions to preserve his relationship with Sekai, expressly stating that she wants Makoto to be a proxy for her after she's gone (though leaving any romantic feelings unspoken, that's just my interpretation). This escalates to the point of her having sex with Makoto on the condition that he breaks off another engagement with Otome, which is such a self-defeatingly doomed gambit that it becomes tragically clear Setsuna has lost all control over the situation. I got the impression that Setsuna somewhat envied the other girls' entanglements with Makoto: the bit where she kisses him while he's asleep, in an attempt to create a personal memory before she leaves forever, is haunting. Like Sekai, Setsuna ends up manufacturing a romance between herself and Makoto as a way to be with him "by proxy", without earnestly confronting her own feelings.

Anyway, my point is that early on, everyone is treating Makoto like a person, which is sort of their mistake. They're like, oh, a boy with a crush, how cute! What's the worst that could come of this? He's a bit clumsy, but I'm sure he means well! And progressively, mercilessly, the show is like: no, he does not mean well. This dude has absolutely nothing in his life except sex. Girls only exist to him as people to have sex with. Guys practically don't exist, as he can't have sex with them. And for these teenagers who are discovering their sexuality, the very fact that Makoto soon starts having these rumours circulating around him is what gives him some allure: he's a sexual entity, he can be thought of in that way, there must be some reason all these girls are acting so crazy over him. Even a character like Hikari, who early on was crushing heavily on the anime's one (1) other male character, Taisuke, ends up taking her turn with Makoto; whatever feelings she had for Taisuke are forgotten, the anime doesn't even bother establishing how that romance works, because it doesn't need to, we've already seen Makoto use his exact same wiles on like three girls already.

School Days has aged well not just because the years since have yielded a better cultural understanding of its subject matter, but for its "production design": what would have been a timely present-day setting at the point of its release ends up turning the whole thing into an early-2000s period-piece. The fashion and environments are distinctly noughties. Perhaps the most consistent bit of visual symbolism in the whole thing is the flip-phone: whenever a character is holding their phone, you can think of them holding their heart in their hands. They're like the fucking soul gems from Madoka Magica. Sometimes, people leave their hearts in the other room, or block each others' hearts, or search their hearts for good memories. The "cell phone charm" from the first episode is brought up towards the very end, seeming bitterly quaint in retrospect. Right before she kills him, Sekai sends Makoto a text which just reads "sorry" copied and pasted hundreds of times. And of course, the ED shows a propped-open cellphone with a slideshow of photos of the girls.

I think in terms of its place in history, School Days speaks to this information age where young girls are being bombarded with cultural messaging that the best way to get ahead is to sexualise oneself while simultaneously slamming everyone else for their sexuality. Girls aren't just competing with one another for the attention of boys; now, they're competing with online pornography. Sekai works as a waitress at a maid cafe (?), and sometimes wears the outfit for Makoto when they have sex. During the School Festival, the girls theme their class as a maid cafe (drawing on Sekai's experience, I think?), and are shown using "absolute territory" as a last-ditch resort to steal people from the other classes. As part of the festival, they have a secluded area curtained off with a bed, encouraging couples to go there for sex acts—but later, it turns out some of the girls have set up a camcorder, and they use the footage to reveal how everyone is cheating on everyone else. While the exact events are obviously taken to an extreme, subtextually everything in School Days tracks 100% with my own experience growing up in a Bri'ish high school, and it feels like things have only gotten worse since social media really tightened its grip on our society.

The most common talking point I see regarding this show is that the characters are "stupid". And it's like, no, they're not stupid, what planet are you on, they're fucking children! (They're children, fucking!) Most of them have probably never been in a relationship before! Everyone in the show is pursuing their own interests; it's just that often, they're in denial about the reality of the situation, because to acknowledge the reality would run against those interests. It's funny, Makoto hardly changes his behaviour throughout the whole show—it just becomes more extreme—but the only thing that affects whether or not his behaviour with Sekai is good or not is whether or not Kotonoha is his girlfriend. The use of "girlfriend" as a role is weaponised by both Kotonoha and Sekai against the other constantly; like declaring "you're It!" At once point while cooking for the school festival, Makoto starts groping Sekai's ass, and she goes, "Geez, stop it! Stop it I said! What'll you do if someone sees us?", only for Makoto to reply, "Then it's okay if no-one sees us?"; this motif of a private sin recurs with Setsuna's character, particularly in the masked play that crops up a couple of times. In what context is an act of desire okay, or not okay?

Halfway through the show, I remembered Emily is Away, a short Western indie visual novel. Released in 2015, Emily is Away is very consciously an early-2000s period piece, wearing the whole time period as an affectation. The whole game is a series of text conversations on an IM client with a girl; after key choices, you are told "emily will remember that".

I fucking hated Emily is Away when I played it. It made me so, so cross. Because after I finished my first playthrough, and got a miserable, unsatisfying end, I naturally started the whole thing over and tried again. I picked different favourite bands. I acted completely differently. And yet, no matter what I picked, during the timeskips between sections, my viewpoint character would do the exact same shit and the relationship fell apart in exactly the same way. The second playthrough was a complete waste of time. It seemed like I, the player, was being railroaded, that the writer simply hadn't the imagination to conceive of a truly interactive narrative with a wildly diverging chain of events.

But of course, that's the whole point, obviously. Emily is Away plays a mean trick on the player, where it outright lies that "you" are making meaningful choices, when in fact "you" are merely spectating the actions of the viewpoint character, a specific guy who is, by nature, a certain way. It posits that all this shit on the computer just doesn't fucking matter, it has nothing to do with how we feel about each other, that it's only our actions in the real world that matter. The thesis of Emily is Away is that sometimes, for some immutable reason, shit just doesn't work out between two people, and there's nothing you could have done differently that would have changed that.

In the timeline where you go the party, you regret going to the party. In the timeline where you don't go, you regret not going. So, the game says, what's the point in regretting at all?

I totally understood this, after finishing the game. But, fuck, I was still pissed about it. The game lied to my face. It put me in the position of being a shitty person, and I didn't like that. It left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm still not sure if Emily is Away is actually any good; I think I like it conceptually, but maybe the writing sucks, I played it eight years ago. My point is that I think School Days is trying to pull the same trick as this one game, but in a much more mean-spirited way, to much more devastating effect, and I suppose I can't be too surprised that it pissed off a lot of people. If I hadn't known upfront what to expect- well, I wouldn't be watching ecchi anime in the first place, but you get the point, maybe I would've been pissed too.

If you break out of the "anime" mindset for even a second, and allow yourself to think that what you're watching is a frank portrayal of events, rather than some hyperreal cartoon, then Makoto is obviously just a little sexual predator. He's constantly pushing the girls past their limits, groping tits, going in for kisses, often against their express wishes. He initiates all the sex we see, and while in a certain sense it's all consensual, everyone involved is under the age of consent, and the show is making a very strong case for why underaged sex is a problem. When Sekai gets pregnant, Makoto wants nothing to do with her—"It's not my fault!"—but it's made clear he wasn't using any contraception, so, c'mon.

School Days is very deliberate in omitting adult characters entirely. Teachers mostly exist in the form of textbooks being read offscreen. I think we get a line of dialogue from Sekai's mom, if I remember right? It presents this world where Makoto basically has free reign to do whatever he wants to the girls, and everybody knows about it, but nobody is doing anything about it. When Sekai murders Makoto, there isn't a scene where anyone notices his absence, finds out. Kotonoha carries his severed head across town without anyone noticing, kills Sekai, and makes it onto the boat without getting caught. The show ends on a montage of idyllic school scenes, as if to say, "nobody noticed, everything just carried on". And again, to a certain kind of guy, I think this would stretch plausibility to the point of causing offence. For me, I think it's speaking to something very real.

Makoto's bedroom is barren except for his computer and magazines: porn, and porn. In the back half of the show, the void left by the absence of adults is filled by Makoto, Sekai, and Kotonoha, who are thrust into this horrible domestic drama, as everyone else in their class blocks Makoto. Makoto relays Kotonoha's recommendation for an abortion clinic to Sekai. He and Sekai sit diagonally across a table in a living room, and suddenly Makoto's school uniform looks like a salaryman's suit, a size too big for him, like he's walking around in his dad's clothes. Sekai tries to prepare a big meal for him, in a fucked-up parody of domesticity, but ends up destroying the whole thing after Makoto spits in her face yet again; later, she sees the remnants in the trash, an uneaten chicken leg poking out, and sees a little of herself in there, and that's basically when she decides to take the knife and kill Makoto. She stabs him in the belly, which is what Kotonoha will later do to her; both are imitating the original sin of the pregnancy.

Kotonoha explicitly chooses to kill Sekai this way because she believes Sekai is lying about the pregnancy—which we can pretty safely say isn't true, based on the scenes where Sekai is on her own. There's this horrible, horrible shot where the camera is looking out at Kotonoha from inside the gut wound, and she observes, "Just as I thought. There's no-one in there." And it's like, is she talking about this baby, still so early in the gestation that it's scarcely even an idea? Is she talking about Sekai, or Makoto, these two people who turned out not to care about her at all? Or is she peering straight through the screen at the viewer, complicit in this atrocity? The shot mirrors the bag containing Makoto's head earlier in the same scene; when Sekai unzips it, the inside is just a black void, and we aren't shown the contents. It's honestly more unsettling to infer it—that bag's not big enough for all of Makoto—and have it "made real" by that final shot of Kotonoha pressing the severed head into her chest on the boat. The memes were more right than they knew: "Nice boat."

Overall, I think School Days extends a lot of empathy towards its female characters. Or, if nothing else, it takes care to give them complex and distinctive internality, which is more than I can say for a lot of anime. Kotonoha initially represses her feelings for Makoto, and then when she feels pressured into reciprocating his intimacy, she soon gets turned into a social pariah for it. Early on, there's this eye-roll-inducing scene where Kotonoha is like "the other girls used to make fun of me because of my huge boobs", and from Makoto's perspective it's like "great, you've got huge boobs!", but then from Kotonoha's perspective, she spends the whole show getting slut-shamed, doesn't she? As a coping mechanism, she builds up elaborate delusions around Makoto—Makoto wouldn't let this happen to her, would he!?—which make it impossible for her to see how he's harming Sekai at the same time, culminating in the "I think you've made up your pregnancy for attention" beat. Their own internalised misogyny prevents the girls from identifying their common enemy.

If I'm being totally blunt, I feel like I can pretty safely put most of the comments regarding School Days I've seen online into a big bucket labelled "HAS NEVER HAD MORE THAN ONE GIRL INTERESTED IN HIM AT ONCE". Like, "I can't believe this Makoto guy! Why doesn't he just dump Kotonoha and date Sekai, who he's obviously more compatible with?" Bucket. "Makoto is so spineless and needs to stop letting these girls manipulate him!" Bucket. "There's no way the teachers would let him get away with this!" Bucket. "What do these girls see in Makoto anyway?" Bucket. "Sekai is such a bitch!" A new, bigger bucket labelled "NO BITCHES".

What I'm interested in is takes from School Days haters who aren't brainpoisoned anime fans, who might even nod along to all my analysis of the show's themes here, but who nevertheless think it's a bad show that deserves to be reviled. What part didn't you like? Is it the part in the OP where you see every female character naked one after the other? Yeah that part's pretty bad. Is it that windowpane-shattering digital transition that gets used once or twice? Is it the utter self-seriousness with which it tackles its ludicrous melodrama? I can see how, if you don't let yourself start to think "oh, those poor girls!", if you don't have that emotional buy-in, the whole thing might just feel comically edgy, sophomoric. I don't think there's any level on which School Days is fun to watch, and I'm not saying it's a secret masterpiece either, but I guess it more-or-less landed for me.

[the0-tdh]

UNDER THE MASK

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

Jake had always been good at keeping secrets. Balancing his double life as a college student by day and the city's masked vigilante, Phantom, by night was second nature to him. And most importantly—his boyfriend, M/N, had no clue.

Or at least, that’s what Jake thought.

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

MASTERLIST

---/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------/•/------

"You’re late."

M/N crossed his arms, standing at the entrance of their shared apartment, his gaze locked onto Jake, who had just stumbled in—hair messy, clothes slightly rumpled, and a faint bruise peeking out from his collar.

Jake froze for a second before flashing his usual sheepish smile. "Traffic was bad?"

M/N raised a brow. "You don’t even have a car."

"Uh… subway delays?" Jake tried, scratching the back of his head.

M/N narrowed his eyes. "Really? Because I checked, and the subway was running fine."

Jake mentally cursed. He had fought off an entire gang of high-tech robbers an hour ago, chased them across half the city, and barely made it back before M/N got too suspicious. He could deal with criminals, but M/N’s interrogation skills? That was a whole different kind of danger.

M/N sighed, stepping closer. "Jake… this isn’t the first time you’ve come home looking like this." His voice softened, concern replacing his frustration. "Are you in trouble? Because if you are, you know you can tell me, right?"

Jake’s heart clenched. He hated lying to M/N. But he couldn’t just say, “Oh yeah, babe, I’m actually a superhero fighting crime every night. That bruise? Totally from getting thrown into a wall by a guy with laser gloves.”

Instead, he cupped M/N’s face gently, forcing a reassuring smile. "I promise, it’s nothing bad. I just… help people sometimes."

M/N studied his face, searching for something—an answer, the truth, maybe even a lie that felt less suspicious. Finally, he sighed and leaned into Jake’s touch. "Just… be careful, okay?"

Jake kissed his forehead, guilt gnawing at him. "Always."

But deep down, he knew the truth wouldn’t stay hidden forever. And when that day came, he just hoped M/N would still look at him the same way.

---

Jake thought he had gotten away with it.

M/N had finally let it go—for now—and Jake told himself he’d be more careful. No more close calls. No more coming home looking like he got hit by a truck (even if, technically, that had happened once… but he healed fast).

But life had other plans.

It started with the news.

“The city’s masked vigilante strikes again! Witnesses report seeing the mysterious hero, known as ‘Phantom,’ stopping an armed robbery downtown before disappearing into the night.”

M/N had glanced at the screen, then at Jake, who had been sipping his coffee way too fast to be normal.

"That Phantom guy is all over the news lately," M/N mused. "Kinda cool, don’t you think?"

Jake had just nodded, trying not to choke on his drink. "Y-Yeah. Super cool."

M/N tilted his head. "You ever wonder who he is?"

Jake nearly dropped his mug. "Uh—what?"

M/N chuckled. "Come on, aren’t you curious? A random guy running around saving people, never getting caught? That’s gotta take serious skill."

Jake forced a casual shrug. "I guess."

M/N leaned in, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "What if it was someone we knew?"

Jake’s heart stopped.

M/N was messing with him. He had to be. There was no way he knew.

So Jake did what any normal person would do in this situation.

He laughed. "Pfft, yeah right! Like who?"

M/N tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Hmm. Maybe someone who always shows up late, with bruises and really bad excuses?"

Jake’s soul left his body.

M/N stared at him, waiting. And then—

He laughed. "Relax, babe. I’m joking."

Jake let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "Haha… yeah. Joking."

But as M/N turned back to the TV, Jake saw it—just for a second. That look.

Like he wasn’t completely joking.

Like he suspected something.

And that? That was dangerous.

Because if M/N kept looking too closely… he might just find out the truth.

And once that happened, there was no turning back.

---

Jake had been extra careful ever since M/N’s joke—that wasn’t really a joke.

No more close calls. No more last-minute arrivals with bruises he couldn’t explain. He even started taking taxis home just to sell the “traffic was bad” excuse better.

But fate had other plans. Again.

---

It was supposed to be a normal night. A quiet dinner at home, a movie, maybe falling asleep on the couch together.

But then Jake’s phone vibrated.

An alert from his secret comms.

[Armed robbery in progress—6th Avenue. Multiple hostages. Police can’t get in.]

Jake’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t ignore it.

But M/N was right there, sitting across from him, eating takeout and rambling about something that happened at work. He looked so happy. So peaceful.

Jake clenched his fists. He hated lying. But he had to go.

He forced a smile. "Hey, babe, I just remembered—I, uh, left my wallet at the café earlier. Gotta go grab it before they close."

M/N blinked. "Your wallet? That’s… weird. You never forget stuff like that."

"Yeah, well… first time for everything!" Jake stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket. "I’ll be back soon, okay?"

M/N narrowed his eyes. "Want me to come with you?"

"No!" Jake said, a little too fast. "I mean, it’s fine. You stay here, relax."

M/N didn’t look convinced. But he sighed and waved him off. "Fine, fine. Just don’t take forever."

Jake pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "Promise."

And with that, he was gone.

---

An Hour Later…

M/N was starting to get annoyed.

Jake was still not back.

And then—

BREAKING NEWS: LIVE FOOTAGE OF PHANTOM TAKING DOWN ARMED ROBBERS ON 6TH AVENUE!

M/N turned to the TV just in time to see the masked vigilante flipping over a counter, dodging bullets with insane speed, taking out three men in seconds.

And the way he moved…

The way he fought…

M/N’s heart pounded.

Because that—

That looked exactly like Jake.

He stared at the screen, watching as Phantom took down the last guy with a spinning kick, then disappeared before the cops could catch him.

A minute later, his phone buzzed.

[Jake: Hey, babe. Just got my wallet. Heading back now. Love you <3]

M/N knew.

He knew.

And now, there was only one thing left to do.

---

When Jake walked through the door, M/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, eyes locked on him.

"You get your wallet?" M/N asked, voice eerily calm.

Jake hesitated. "...Yeah?"

M/N stood up, stepping closer. "Funny. Because I just watched Phantom take down an entire gang on the news."

Jake froze.

M/N tilted his head. "You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, babe?"

Silence.

Then—

"...I can explain."

M/N smirked. "Oh, you better."

[honeyrisuke]

also if i see one more fucking post saying "in northern europe you are unlikely to be offered food" and this claim is SOLELY based on american cultural understandings i'm gonna turn that fucking wording around on yall real quick

bc i think its horribly fucking rude to already be invited to someones house, then not communicate what you want AT ALL and just EXPECT to be able to stay over for as long as you want without pissing off after what you met up to do is over and also expect to be catered to exactly how you want and like it, all without even saying a goddamn word. it gives "Karen"

[thebestusernamepossible]

I think a really underrated character duo in gravity falls is Dipper and Stan. Like one, I think they are way more similar than people give them credit for. Like Dipper is definitely the one who feels like the ‘inferior’ twin (internally on his part), something reflected in Stan. Also Dipper is generally pretty cunning and willing to throw punches in a Stan-way, you can see Stan rubbing off on him as the show progresses. Dipper in the Stan costume, and that one scene where Stan and Dipper both cross their fingers at the same time for the same promise, both live in my head rent free. In my heart of hearts I think Dipper picks up a bit of Stans con-man tricks in the future (and Mabel goes on some bonding missions w/ Ford, but this post isn’t abt them). Also I just want to say I bet Dipper reminded Stan of a young Ford and that informed some of their early dynamic. Anyway bye just needed this brainworm out

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

i wrote a fanfic

[deoidesign]

I have a question, but it may be already have been answered in the story (my brain is just not the best with memory).

Since vampirism symbolises for you chronical illness (which, omg, that is a hot take I've never thought off before and love from now on), does Steve count as chronical ill, too, with the whole halfvampire thing going on? So, would his uncontrollable time jumping each month be a symptom of that chronical illness?

not in the story, no worries! Just a possible interpretation and my personal intent when writing.

As a small aside I personally don't like to think of chronic illness as something that people "count" as, so to speak, it's an extremely personal label and incredibly varied between individuals and as with all disability there is never such thing as hard lines or black and white... but I understand why you worded it that way and I understand what you're asking.

So, yes, Steve is also chronically ill within this framework. The entire comic is sort of shaped around this, to be honest! I mean he canonically has some pretty extreme memory issues... He's also canonically homeless (not that this is an illness but I just mean it's something I think most people forget about him when discussing him). And, yes, his condition is uncontrollable and is severely impacting his ability to live the life he wants to live.

He has just been barely coping up to the point we meet him, and has been very desperate which is what led him to creating that list of deviations. He has periods where his body is out of his control, he is unable to form relationships, he hurts others without meaning or wanting to... Yeah. He's metaphorically relating to a lot of things, really.

So, yknow, you're welcome to interpret him as you'd like! for me I relate a lot with my various issues and conditions and thus that's why I've projected on him the way I have, but of course I would understand entirely different interpretations of what is inherently metaphorical.

[moe-broey]

"An awkward gesture" like yeah. And that group of guys who gathered around in Portland ME in full Nazi paraphernalia on April 1st that one year were just joking. Right.

[floral-hex]

I’m about a week and a half into starting Remeron and my main side effect so far is I’m just so dang sleepy all of the time.

[sheogorad]

you know i've got it bad when i come back to tumblr to rant about my fucking stupid baka life. i am just. i'm chewing and munching and crunching on my own limbs. i had therapy where i talked about [redacted] and that seemed to help it a bit. but i feel like a big stupid idiot that talks too much and lets too much info slip. i feel so vulnerable and i don't even get to be held and loved. i'm getting nearly all the anxiety and pain of being vulnerable and honest in love WITHOUT THE LOVE. i literally want to fucking choke myself out. i want to run into the woods and bite trees like a fucking beaver. i hate how much bigger he is than me because every time i think about it i feel like i'm going to die because i KNOW. i know. how good it would feel to be his little spoon. his hugs are already insanely good. they already make me feel small and held. i just lay here every single day. every single night. and just fucking Yearn bro. i just. imagine. being spooned. and i feel like crawling out of this 3rd story window so i land head first on the concrete. then i might be put out of my gay misery. i shouldn't have to suffer like this, during PRIDE MONTH. catching feelings is homophobic

[tonyglowheart]

reading thru old meta posts on qian qiu and there's like, some stuff I agree with sure but there's also a lot I don't lol. w like yan wushi especially. there's a lot of. I think too much conventional-mindedness in approaching yws even from the ppl who did like him as a character. saying he's a difficult character, and is meant to be a difficult character, but then still framing him along more conventional moral frameworks. yet another apartment 'complex'? strange, I find it quite simple moments.