#choose your gender

[4ltrd]

I’ve seen you in the Akuneko tag a few times and was wondering who your top 3 butlers are? 😊 My top 3 is constantly flip flopping if I’m being honest. I really like Berrien, Lucas, Lamli, Miyaji, Nac, and now Haures/Fennez have grown on me with the release of chapter 2.

*jumps up and down, waving*

First, I adore Akuneko because I quit a 10-year-long position due to chronic migraines this February 2022, and having worked all my teen-adult life, I didn't know what to do with myself when I suddenly wasn't working at all. I found Akuneko around the time I quit, and it helped me basically in every way it's supposed to. It is a godsend.

If someone reads this who a) doesn't know Akuneko already, b) struggles with anxiety, depression, stress, etc., c) likes otome/ikémen games, and d) doesn't mind translating from Japanese, you can find Akuneko in the US Google Play store (link below) or in Qoo.

My top three are:

Lamli. He's awful at his "job," but he does everything possible to make you happy. He wants desperately to be a "cool adult" with his shit together to impress you, but he doesn't realize how overrated it is. He's full of unbridled energy and passion, and he never forgets to tell you how he feels. I see my ADHD in him and I love it. I just want to goof around all day with him (and give everyone else in the mansion grey hairs).

Boschi. Sure, Lucas is undisputed #1 for teasing you, with Ammon at #2, but Boschi is a real dark horse when it comes to flirting. He says some things where I'm like, "Boschi, you scoundrel!" When he invites you to the sauna with him with that look on his face...! Plus, he's very cute about his hair. He's resilient, proud, and stubborn, which appeals to the Midwesterner in me.

This one is harder! I flip-flop. Right now, I'd say Miyaji. He's always got me on the verge of tears, he's very tall, and he carried us in his demon form (I'm a sucker for kemonomimi). But it could also be Lato or Fennesz or Lono at any given moment. Lato's emotional growth has been so wonderful. Fennesz is always blushing and making adorable sounds (😈). And Lono reminds me of my actual husband (who says AkuNeko is the best/prettiest out of all the mobile games I play).

I'm behind on Chapter 2 (halfway through?) because I have a tendency to hoard story. I don't know why I'm like this... but I don't think there's anything in there that will change my mind.

I love them all! I can't believe how well-written they are, and how human they feel. The dev team behind Akuneko is wonderful.

[kidzboppizza]

Choose your gender

[longdistancesituationship]

were you a dinosaur kid or a space kid or an egyptian/greek/roman mythology kid

[unhonestlymirror]

"Women are like cars" - oh yeah, and men are like frying pans

[cube-cumb3r]

while im at it neopronoun opposition is weird to me as a swedish person.. the whole debate is so anglocentric that they assume every language landed on the same solution they did, to reuse a plural pronoun as a gender neutral one and then they think any other solution is absurd or unheard of. what do you mean you just made another pronoun up you cant do that!! etc

coz its like here in the 2014 the swedish academy accepted 3rd person pronoun "hen" (as opposed to hon/han) like officially into our word list after it gained some popularity in the 2010s. like that is a NEOPRONOUN that someone just Came Up With in like the 60s and then people just started using it and now its just a recognized part of our language. sure we could've also reused our plural pronoun "de/dem" as a gender neutral one but we just made up a new one instead. and to like imply that mainstream use of a neopronoun is just UNHEARD OF and that neopronouns is something the mainstream could NEVER GET USED TO EVER!!! is... your perspective is very limited to the english speaking world is all i can say

[katabay]

”—ah. seems like mother goose has been playing around in your egg salad. if you won’t dance to that tune, I got others.”

honestly, the would you kindly scene is whatever to me*, code yellow is the more interesting violation/betrayal of the body because of how beautifully it escalates the Fontaine reveal/betrayal and shows how ugly some of those ‘locks and keys’ that Tenenbaum mentions are. not only have you been a tool in another man’s hand this entire time, it goes deeper. your body is not your own.

*there used to be a meandering thought here about the would you kindly scene, but it was really just talking around the fact that I spent way too many years seeing people discuss it in the most insufferable and reductive ways possible when it’s a combination of three or four other things that make that moment compelling lmao

collage credits: heart one/heart two

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[wuntrum]

artists flirting like wow you have such a nice side profile...the tip of your nose makes such an interesting shape where it connects to the bridge...

[awaagas]

it always astounds me how people will accept trans masc lesbians but hard stop at trans men as if theres a hard line that is visible and can be easily drawn between trans masc and trans man

as if top surgery, testosterone, packing, binding, facial hair, body hair, and deepened voice can only be given to one and not the other. as if you can tell a trans man from a trans masc person just by looking at them.

labels are meant to explain without creating boxes.

anti-terf includes being pro confusing identities and not backseat policing people's own labels and identities

[uncanny-tranny]

[centaur-dreaming]

Happy birthday fellow gays and queers of other flavours <3

[cheralith]

all i wanted — gojo satoru, ft. geto suguru

content warnings: gn!neutral, no pronouns or body parts mentioned, angst

he can't believe what he's seeing.

in the park's gazebo that sits near your apartment building, there you are. settled underneath its vines and ivy and the sunset looking overhead in the sky. a bundle of colorful flowers gathered in your arms with a large heart-shaped box of chocolates nestled underneath. there's a plethora of matching shaped balloons settled around the floor of it, all red and pink and white and shiny, resembling mirrors that shine your much too happy face that doesn't face him...

but another.

there you are, hiding your shy smile behind a hand and giggling at whatever suguru is murmuring as he pushes a lock of hair away from your flustered face. satoru fists his own bouquet of flowers he gathered last minute hidden behind him, evidently frustrated as he bites his lip so hard that it draws blood. his seem so weak and desolate compared to the larger than life bouquet suguru has given you; a bouquet that shows careful arranging and organizing of each flowers, not the flimsy, clustered flowers that satoru grabbed on his rushing way to see you to declare what he had been hesitating to say for the longest time.

his knuckles turn white and pulse with a fiery ache from how hard he was grasping his now-bent flowers, doing his best to shove down the thick lump in his throat as he sees suguru wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him as you accept his valentines proposal of "be mine?" written on a small, but intricate lunchbox cake decorated with colors that replicate the balloons. satoru doesn't miss the small bunch of boxes seated on the benches of the gazebo already unwrapped, the leaves of their wrappers nestled nicely on the ground—there's more presents than flowers in his bouquet, and satoru cannot feel anymore pathetic. his flowers can't compare to the intricate set-up suguru has created. he thinks its almost a mockery of sorts.

it's not fair, he thinks. you've been friends with satoru in the same length that you've been friends with suguru, and he's sure that both of them have harbored feelings in a time frame equivalent to each other, so why does suguru get first pick? he's the one that broke off from you, him, and shoko... he's the one that left you mysteriously in the dust those years ago... he's that ignored you on the first couple semesters of college up until a few months ago...

but satoru was there. why can't you acknowledge him in the way you acknowledge suguru? satoru was there every step of the way—his shoulder was the one you cried on. his arms were the one you ran to when you celebrated a good grade on a test. his presence was the one that comforted you in the bane of suguru's absence.

but here's the problem.

you did acknowledge him. you had actually acknowledged satoru's place in your life so much and valued it to a degree that you took the risk of perhaps making it more than just a mere long-term friendship. maybe it wasn't explicit, but it was implied enough to the point where it struck fear in satoru's heart.

and he ran away from it like the coward he was—terrified to his wits end that another suguru situation would happen again to him, in which his feelings already engrained so deep within him that if there's the slim chance that you'll leave him like suguru did, there'd be nothing but a deep and hollow pit in his heart. a relationship would just increase that chance—and he wasn't going to take any chances of that happening.

satoru thought he'd never fathom two large chunks of his heart being empty, yet here he is—facing what remains of his heart that belongs to you in the palm of the other person who owned the other half of it and tore it away all those years ago.

the ground feelings more dense, locking him in place and forcing him to watch the scene that unfolds before him.

if he was just a few mere hours faster, he knew that he could be in suguru's place is he was just stronger, if he was just willing to pay the small price for a potential forever with you. it was a severe last-minute decision, but he knew that's what he wanted, what he yearned for. what he even needed, perhaps.

yet, his hesitation has paid its dues.

your back is to him, thankfully. but suguru's eyes flicker up from your smiling face that he holds tenderly in his palms to share satoru's grief-stricken one. for a second, his face in unreadable to satoru, until a cruel smirk snakes on suguru's lips.

and, while never breaking eye contact with satoru, those same lips reach down and share a soft kiss with yours, your forever now being in suguru's hands that just barely pass his own.

the bouquet of frail flowers fall to the ground, yet no feeling returns to satoru's hand. only a cold wind of nothing grasps it back.

[killjoy-prince]

A kiss from Death

[kuromi-hoemie]

“if she doesn't want to be called dude i won't call her that” - you are assuming you and your friends read as people trans women feel safe enough to speak up to, while already demonstrating you don't take other people seriously enough.

Your habit and lack of self restraint/awareness matter more than common sense i guess. Like i would never call a transmasc “girl” because that would seem like obvious misgendering, but it's different for trans women apparently.

[zxal]

boychild of destiny

[writeforfandoms]

Here, have an untitled drabble thing. Yes, I had a specific character in mind when I wrote it. Feel free to guess. (Technically I wrote it for CoD but I think it's vague enough that my Pedro peeps could read it too.)

Warnings: Allusions to sexual activity, swearing, intentionally vague, gender neutral reader.

Word count: 355

--

You had trained yourself to quiet as a teenager. It was easier - easier to fade into the background, to avoid detection, to paste on a smile and keep your heart quiet and close so nobody had cause to look closer. 

That method had lasted you for years. You were silent in your pain, keeping your reactions as small and quiet as you could. You didn't scream when scared, didn't give yourself away. Even in pleasure, you stayed quiet, focused on sensation rather than noise. 

Which worked well in college. No embarrassing questions for you, thanks much. 

Once in the habit, you just… never stopped. Sure, you'd swear at a stubbed toe, but never more than that. In a way, you were proud of your quiet.

But you got used to people looking at you, and not seeing. Taking the image you put forth at face value and not digging deeper. 

That changed with him. 

He saw you. Every time. You could try to downplay your pain, your joy, your sorrow. He saw all of it. He didn't make you explain. Didn't ask you to change. 

Just held you when you needed it. Murmured encouragement into your neck as his hips met yours. Pulled you into his side when you were out, having memorized every sign of distress from you. 

To be so seen was… intoxicating. Strange. Frightening, sometimes. 

But you couldn't pull back. Couldn't leave. Not when he looked at you like… like… 

Like you were something precious. Special. 

You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to realize that, really, you were nothing special. 

The one time you expressed such quiet doubts to him, he just pulled you onto his lap and let you hide your face against his shoulder. 

He loved you the way you were. Reassured you that he didn't need you to perform for him, didn't want you to change. Just wanted you to be comfortable. 

That comfort gave you a safety net you hadn't even realized you'd been missing until you had it again. 

Neither of you left that spot on the couch for a long time.