i love sports anime but i especially love rugby anime cause the captains are always so hot
#im watching number 24 #its not as funny as all out #but theres a few disabled and a few traumatized characters and i love that for us too #also natsuo is kinda a dick in the best way #also highkey appreciate that uts set in college instead of highschool #but it seems a few of the male sports ones are getting to uni ages instead like cheer boys was too #and ill sit through the highschool age ones but its not realistic for a lot of stuff like horimiya #like its all still good but being post uni age and remembering every step? a lot of tuis only happens around 19-21 anyway #BUT #one of the managers has intestinal issues due to stress and hes taken seriously by natsuo and told not to eat anymore than hes comfortable #with and wuite frankly thats such a nice touch #not to mention natsuo of whatever his name is deals with serious chronic pain and potential paralysis #and straight says 'when its bad bad i cant even move' and just...its obvious that its always bad after he says that #just not bad enough for him to give up #and bruh same #my pain doesn't come with the threat of paralysis but i know what its like to get up out of spite and frustration #anyway great show so far for this reason alone also the art is pretty
i think if you make a genderbent version of a character you should make them have the exact same style as the og one. give the man a skirt. give the girl a suit dont be shy
#unless the og character is already gnc then you can change the clothes so that they stay gnc #example: if you make if youre making a male version of idk yuri doki doki. give him a skirt #if ur making a male version of catra who is gnc and wears a suit #then give him a dress #The Important Thing Is. They Gotta Be Gnc Af
#/hj#anon#asks #I rlly don’t know. #most claims come from my hc invalidating their wlm ship. which is just immature #my silly little posts and icons aren’t going to hurt your 10 second thought through make OC that treats Donna like actual garbage !!!! #male* #god forbid a character doesn’t like a man !!! god forbid !!!
I think the greatest downfall of BOTW was taking away Link's status as y/n
#he's a Wattpad reader insert #no that's literally the point that's why OOT is androgynous #unfortunately the rest are not agender icons. the same interview is often misquoted. they say from tp on Link is 'undeniably male' #in most games they don't even tell you his name is supposed to be Link! You get to choose! #and then people make OCs to ship with characters and get mad at people for shipping the link version🙃 #actually skyward sword is not mentioned in the interview. just tp and botw. so sky could be not a guy
WANTED FOR JUSTIN FINCH-FLETCHLEY & ZACHARIAS SMITH
after the war, susan bones disappeared. or at least - she disappeared from justin's life. they were best friends. after the battle, justin couldn't finish his schooling at hogwarts. rather than live with ghosts, he finished his schooling at beauxbatons. for whatever reason - that's up to you - he didn't receive even one letter from her. what happened to susan?
of the hufflepuffs susan bones is: most likely to be minister for magic. she is the most sensible of the group, despite having a quick temper to rival justin's.
open face, erin kellyman is pictured.
hannah abbott is bold for someone so unlucky. at hogwarts, she somehow earned a reputation as a crybaby. was it her meltdown over OWLS in fifth year? or being pulled out of hogwarts after the murder of her mother? either way, she deserved another reputation entirely: hannah abbott loves to tell a tall tale.
of the hufflepuffs, she is the biggest gossip, but she is loyal and kind-hearted all the same. between hannah and justin, nothing is sacred. hannah, justin, and zach are the most likely to be found talking shit in the pub over drinks.
open face, line brems is pictured.
ernie would like everyone to know that not only has his family had nine generations of hufflepuffs, but he can shear a sheep faster than his rival, zacharias smith - and they have competed at the cymoedd de cymru agricultural show. whether or not this claim is true has yet to be confirmed.
of all the hufflepuffs, ernie macmillan looks the best in a kilt. he is over-zealous, competitive, and occasionally pretentious. he is also unashamedly scottish.
open face, malcolm de ruiter is pictured.
megan is nothing like her loud and brash sister, gwenog jones. at hogwarts, megan was the president of the potions' club and justin credits her as being the only reason he ever passed potions. despite being very bright, megan is very humble. she is amicable and fair.
warnings of graphic descriptions, gore, and slight emotional manipulation !!!
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘!𝗔𝗦𝗔𝗛𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;
“I mean, I guess so, but that’s because we’re going to be working together - so it’s necessary, y’know? But, um, anyway… I best get a move on, huh? Take care, Asahi.” Gently brushing his palm off your shoulder, you choose to take an alternative route away from the main corridor, aiming to make your way back to your homeroom. With the hopes your homeroom teacher might have still been working, and that maybe, Asahi wouldn’t go after you this time.
Ruffling up the worn sleeves of your blazer in order to ease the heat now emanating from your hands, you speed up your pace - being alone felt like the worst case scenario, especially with him. You couldn’t exactly work out what was up with Asahi. He was never one to outwardly express how he felt, so this, this aggressiveness (?) was unwarranted.
Not taking into account the vacant expressions on his part.
Now, with the only accompaniment of your footsteps on the tiled floors, you let out a soft huff noticing the dim lighting warming the homeroom. Though, oddly enough, you hadn’t picked up on any other footsteps - had Asahi finally backed off?
It wasn’t an opportunity you’d like to chance.
Lightly knocking on the door, entering, your teacher glances upwards before motioning you to come in. Thank god.
“Teach, I don’t mean to bother you but, um, I don’t feel comfortable being alone. Not right now,” briefly glimpsing over your shoulder through the glazed window in the door, you pull on the beaded cord, rolling down the blinds.
“I would’ve assumed you’d have arrived home by now, is... is something bothering you? I won’t press you on it any further if you aren’t comfortable discussing it, but I have no qualms with you staying here either. I just need to wrap up on marking these papers, and then I’ll walk with you towards the entrance?”
Shrugging off your backpack and placing it on one of the nearby school desks, “That would be great, thank you so much. Do you mind if I call someone to pick me up as well, I know it’s after hours but, it’s still school grounds,” (you weren’t exactly rebellious in school).
“You don’t need to ask, it’s absolutely fine.”
You nod, before rummaging through the contents of your bag (you’d like to believe you were more organised than most, but with the current state of your room at home, it suggested otherwise). Unzipping a compact pocket with your phone in, you scroll through your contacts - pausing on your mothers before dialling, (‘please pick up’). After a few misplaced rings occupying the said silence, on the fifth ring she finally picks up.
“Heya, bub, you alright-”
“Sorry to rush you like this, but um, could you meet me at the school entrance and pick me up, please? I just don’t feel safe right now-” the tip of your fingernail now lopsided from the soft chewing against your teeth, a habit you thought you’d grown out of. Old habits die hard, huh?
“Of course. I’m just heading to my evening shift, so I should be there roughly in twenty, is that okay?”
You nod again, before sheepishly realising she couldn’t actually see you (a soft chuckle coming from your teacher), “yes, yes that would be great, I’ll see you soon, ‘kay? Okay, bye.”
Hearing the dial tone, you slump against a nearby desk, carefully avoiding knocking over any paperwork in the process. Twenty minutes wasn’t the best, but it was the best timing you could get at the current moment. Better than heading home alone, by a mile off. With your homeroom teacher still typing away you opt for tugging your bag towards you, reaching for your water bottle - the lack of saliva leaving you nauseous.
“Got the all clear?”
Letting out a strained cough, the flow of the water taking a different route (it was an eppi-something), you clear your throat, “Ah, yes, she’ll be here in twenty or something.”
Aside from watching the rhythmic ticking of the analog clock hanging above the door frame, it was difficult to properly focus on anything except the constant mental question of when you’d be able to leave. The seconds now mimicking minutes amongst the silence. Getting up to refill your water bottle ignoring the urge to pee being the only thing keeping you distracted, you hear a harsh knock at the door, before being swung open (the tap tap tap against the wall from the vibration); there he stood.
“Asahi, are you alright,” glancing at your homeroom teacher who was now making his way from his desk towards him from the disruption, you stumble backwards, your foot catching on one of the legs of the desk - hands regaining stability looking back and forth between the two.
But Asahi doesn’t seem to acknowledge his words, gaze pinned on you.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“What- what do I have to do, to have your attention, I, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do any more, um, sweetheart,” a blush flaring up on his cheeks feeling foreign at the use of the pet name; (a part of you wishing that the gentle giant that was Asahi, was still in there somewhere), “and now, even he has your attention.”
Just what the hell was he talking about?
“I just want you to look at me. Only me. I’ve tried everything, um, taking your things - not important things! But just sentimental things, for myself; pens, hair, clothing. Pretending to struggle with studies, even rejoining the team! I’d, um, wait for you at games, hoping you’d turn up. Maybe-”
“Asahi, I need you to calm down for me.”
“Maybe, if I, ah, take them out of the picture, then you’d finally look at me, right? Right, sweetheart,” ignoring the nauseous feeling returning back full force, you finally meet his gaze, a soft smile present on his face. However, it was directed at the homeroom teacher, not you.
“Asahi, listen to me-”
But this was an act.
Shoving a nearby table distancing the pair of them, Asahi swipes a lone staple gun off of the main desk before lunging, frenetically, towards your teacher. Both of them sent sprawling to the floor. Rushing to separate them from the other side of the room, you falter, hearing the undeniable clicks! of the staple gun being fired, coupled up with a distinctive squelch!; a strained wail coming from what seemed to be your teacher. Oh god oh god oh god
Regaining courage, you continue moving forward, throwing yourself in an attempt to shove the larger male off of the pinned man, “get away from him-” only to be elbowed sharply in the ribs, leaving you winded on the tiled flooring.
Struggling to inhale, oh god, you let out a drawn whimper realizing that what you thought to be a knock to the stomach was a simple retractable knife; tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
With the prominent white noise now taking over your hearing from the adrenaline, it doesn’t leave out the cut of scream replaced with gurgles - Asahi now ramming the staple gun down what remained of your teacher's throat, with muted clicks! here and there.
It’s hard to focus now, gingerly shuffling back on your forearms you fumble around the area with hesitant prods. A constant ebb and flow of your pulse running through the wound. You know that pulling it out would be suicide so you opt for hauling yourself back up onto your feet with the support of a desk.
Eyeing Asahi lost in his neurotic haze, realising this is the best opportunity to escape you hunch over partially, dragging yourself beside each desk before stumbling out into the hallway.
There’s a dead man in my form class there’sadeadman
Carefully reaching into your pocket to avoid shifting the knife (the blood uncomfortably acting as a water bottle paired with the now slicked school shirt), you’re grateful to still feel your mobile, registering that your safest bet would be to wait it out in a bathroom. You’d never make it to the entrance in this state.
You sink your teeth into your hand, muffling the urge to cry.
“Where are you? Um, I didn’t mean to scare you like that, I’m not sure what overcame me. But, at least we have the school all to ourselves, ah, right?”
Groping aimlessly with your other palm, you, thankfully, enter a (fortunately unlocked) bathroom - unable to stop the whine clawing itself from your throat as you lower yourself to the floor. Something about an elevated position. That’s what you needed to do-
and, oh god, stop, stop the bleeding stopthebleeding
You cautiously press down once again, pushing your tie into your mouth to stifle any noises that may unwillingly surface. You’d just have to wait it out.
And your mother would be here in no time at all to pick you up, right?
#yandere#yandere asahi #haikyuu x gn #haikyuu!! #asahi x male reader #asahi x female reader #asahi x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral character
An unexpected event and a chance encounter bring Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and the King of Rohan together. Now, neither of their lives will ever be the same as they were. [Complete in 24 chapters]
(25 May 3019 III)
Lothiriel awoke leisurely, and lay in bed pondering what was so different about this morning. The sun through the window, certainly, and the comfortable bed as well. While she was appreciative of those, that was not the difference. After a short deliberation, she realized that she felt safe – utterly and completely. Surely that had been the reason she slept soundly.
In the Rohirrim encampments and travelling along the road, she believed she was safe, probably even knew it for certain with Eothain at her side. She suspected he had been allowed to neglect other duties to ride alongside her and keep her company. But for all that, she had never felt safe, not until she arrived here. Surrounded by this sturdy house and the formidable town walls, the tension in her had ebbed for the first time since she was taken from Lossarnach.
She let out a slow breath, ending it with a smile. It was glorious to not fear the world around her, if only temporarily. She let herself luxuriate in that feeling for several long minutes, but then sat up. The sun’s position told her the morning was well upon them. No doubt dear Betersel had allowed her to sleep in. She would have to make a point of thanking the housekeeper for that additional kindness. It had been evident when they first arrived here that Eomer was fond of the woman; she now shared that sentiment.
She almost didn’t hear the soft tap at her door, but more importantly she realized her heart had not lunged into her ribcage at the sound. “Come in,” she called, continuing to brush out her hair before braiding it. She had quickly discovered that Rohan was as windy as Dol Amroth.
Betersel entered behind her, smiling warmly. She held the promised lighter-weight socks – two pairs. “Is there anything else you need, dear? Will you come down for breakfast, or shall I have a tray brought up?”
Setting down the brush to begin working on the braiding, Lothiriel told her, “The socks were all I needed. And I will come down. I do not wish to make extra work on my account.”
Betersel stepped forward and took the strands of hair from her, nudging her down onto a bench and set to doing the braiding herself, humming a tune that Lothiriel did not recognize. The finished style was not one Lothiriel had ever worn before, but she rather liked it and smiled at Betersel in the mirror. “Thank you.”
“Come down when you are ready,” Betersel told her, turning toward the door. “Erkenbrand rode in early this morning, so the menfolk are already behind closed doors. You will be on your own. What would you particularly like to eat?”
Lothiriel shook her head. “Whatever is easy for you will be fine with me.”
With a nod, Betersel closed the door behind her and Lothiriel sat back down to put on the boots. She had been right – the thinner socks made all the difference. She took one final glance in the mirror before setting out the door and downstairs.
Before she reached the dining room she and Eomer had used the previous day for both their meals, a girl gestured for her to follow and led her to the kitchen and a small table off to the side. She settled there as a meal was laid before her. Betersel’s idea of ‘whatever is easy for you’ involved a great deal of food! Eggs, potatoes, ham, crusty bread and even berries! It seemed the housekeeper intended to make good on her promise to see Lothiriel well fed. And, though not used to eating large meals, she found she had a hearty appetite this morning. Perhaps it was another result of feeling safe here.
Several of the servants spoke to her, with varying degrees of ability, in what Westron they knew. Surprisingly, she realized she was beginning to recognize a few Rohirric words. The men around the campfire at night had taught her a couple of common words, and her ears could now pick those out even when she wasn’t sure of the meaning of the entire sentence being spoken.
Bolstered by the night’s rest and the food, she decided to attempt a solo visit around the town. At supper the previous evening, Eomer had assured her it was quite safe, and with the guards on the walls, she was inclined to trust that. After learning of her plans, Betersel encouraged her to go, to stretch her legs and enjoy the fine spring weather.
I used to work as a a life-drawing model and one of the profs used to tell his students that when artists are starting out, their drawings will almost always look like self-portraits. And boy at the end of each class I would walk around and look at all of the drawings and almost all of them would look more like the student who drew them than me, the person they were looking at the entire time they were drawing.
#art #this post is actually about the fact that so many fanartists draw male characters as though they don't have any genitals #note to artists: #the sausage and beans have to go somewhere #and if the pants are tight you can see where #they take up actual space #unless you're drawing one of henry cavill's characters #that man wears his junk flat as a pancake #i swear he's tucking
i really loved norwegian wood but now that i'm reading haruki murakami's 1Q84(second book) i can't overlook how uncomfortable and disturbing his writing is
#the male main character keeps sexualizing a minor and the female character is so frickin weirdly written #she is interesting but at the same time so obviously written through the male gaze #all the pages where tengo describes fukaeri make me sick to my stomach #and also i've noticed both in norwegian wood and in 1Q84 that murakami has an obsession with 'straight' women doing gay things?? #and also in norwegian wood one of those women was actually a minor if i remember it correctly #i admire his writing so much it really captivates me and makes me want moew #more*** #but i can't overlook this #katarina.posting #haruki murakami