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romaritimeharbor · 13 days

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HYDRANGEAS, CH. 1. — In which Tokito [Name] is invited to join the Corps.

— series synopsis. Hydrangeas, in some cultures, have been known to symbolize apology. The Hashira Tokito [Name] has many things to apologize for, indeed.

— trigger & content warnings. minor blood.

— pairings & notes. tokito muichiro, tokito yuichiro, ubuyashiki amane, ubuyashiki kagaya, rengoku kyojuro, & reader. reader is 11 in this chapter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). 10k words.

— author's thoughts. hydrangeas is also posted on ao3!

Snap. Snap. Snap.

The repeated sound of splitting and snapping wood fibers, of an axe tearing through the middle of logs, was among one of the few sounds filling the air—the chirping of distant birds, the soft rustle of the breeze through blades of grass and leaves… it was quite serene, in a way. The young one responsible for cutting up spare firewood huffed, wiping away a little bit of sweat that collected at their brow before continuing; their muscles did not throb or ache, and they were quite used to completing household chores that demanded strength or endurance, but that didn’t change the fact that their task could indeed be a laborious one.

A series of quieter snaps and the soft crunching of grass underneath the weight of someone’s footsteps drew their attention, and they stopped, turning around to face the direction that the noises had come from.

Briefly, they had thought that their family had returned—they weren’t expecting any visitors, but they were expecting their father, mother, and little brothers to return sometime soon. However, they quickly realized that such a thing simply was not possible; had that been the case, there would have been four pairs of footsteps, but they could only discern two.

Furthermore, when they turned around, they did not see any trace of their family. Instead, a light-haired woman and another person clad in what they guessed to be some kind of uniform stood a comfortable distance away from them., and… was that a blade? It was sheathed, and the uniform-wearing stranger did not seem keen on drawing it, but still!

Their heart picked up speed for two reasons. One, that person had a weapon; anyone with any sense of danger would be concerned if someone armed approached them unexpectedly. Two, it was… kind of cool, actually. They knew better than to exclaim and gush about how cool that sword looked and ask about where the person had gotten it or what it was used for—was this person a martial artist? A samurai? Though, they thought that samurais no longer existed… then a shinobi, maybe? Or a former samurai?

…Right. No. They knew better than to ask. These people were strangers. Even if that woman was practically ethereal, carrying herself with such beauty and grace that they really would not have doubted her if she said she was nobility, and that person had a very cool sword… they were still strangers.

Of course, that didn’t mean that they needed to be unnecessarily harsh or rude. The people did not seem to have ill-intent, anyway; if they did, something surely would have happened by now.

“Hello,” they greeted kindly, offering the two a polite smile as they set their axe down next to the pile of chopped wood. “Are you lost, miss? I can take you to the nearby village, if so.”

“No,” she replied. “Thank you, young one, but we are not lost.”

“Oh? Um… then…”

It was as if she had read their mind, going on to answer their unspoken question:

“I have come to find you.”

“Me?” A variety of emotions flashed across their features—fear, disconcertment, unease—before finally settling on cautious curiosity. “Why?”

Her professional, cool disposition did not falter at all. “You are the descendant of a great swordsman,” she vaguely explained, her tone smooth and almost soothing, in a way. “My duty, the purpose of my visit, is to ask if you would like to join the Demon Slayer Corps and carry on the legacy that he left behind.”

“I… I am?”

“Yes.”

“I…” they trailed off, head almost spinning at the information she relayed to them and its implications, but with how earnest her expression seemed… it was hard to think that she was lying. That would explain the swordsman at her side (who had yet to say a single word and seemed to be largely on guard, constantly surveying the area for threats, ready to strike at a moment’s notice; perhaps this woman was not nobility, but she must have been important in one way or another to have such a stoic, attentive bodyguard).

Demon Slayers—they did not doubt their existence. After all, their father often spoke of them, but it seemed so impossible. So fictional, like the kinds of stories and tales that one might tell a child to help them fall asleep.

Yet, standing before them was a mysterious woman asking if they wanted to join them.

“...I thought Demon Slayers were just fictional. Like— like the stories you tell little kids.”

The uniform-clad person beside her made a noise at that. It sounded like a laugh. They were being laughed at.

“Most people do,” she said, nodding, and the person next to her straightened up again; it was as if that person realized that maybe they shouldn’t have laughed, since it was a common misconception. “Demon Slayers are not recognized by the government. Therefore, save for the people who are already Demon Slayers and their families, most people do not believe in demons.” She stopped, but then clarified: “...But they are real, and they are an active threat.”

“Um, would you like to have tea?” Nervously, they wrung their hands together. “I’m sorry, I… it’s a lot to take in at once, and I don’t want to force you to stand for as long as it takes to explain it to me. I think that would make me a rude host. So, um, would you like to have tea with me, miss?”

"Very well."

With a kind smile that seemed to waver and tremble a little bit under the intensity of the gaze of her bodyguard, they approached the woman, gingerly taking one of her hands in theirs and leading her along the path paved by frequent usage. She seemed surprised, eyes widening and calm expression faltering somewhat.

…But then, her lips twitched upwards into the ghost of an adorning smile at the sheer innocence of their actions as she allowed herself to be led along, the Demon Slayer following close behind.

“Oh!” They stopped, turning around to face her. “I’m so sorry, miss, I never asked for your name.”

“That is quite alright,” she reassured, the diplomacy in her demeanor seeming to soften quite significantly as she looked down at them. “My name is Ubuyashiki Amane.”

“I suppose I probably don’t have to introduce myself to you…”

“No, you do not. It is a pleasure to meet you, Tokito [Name].”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

“Should I call you Lady Amane?” they wondered softly as their calloused hands carefully poured the tea into three cups—one for them, one for Amane, and one for the Demon Slayer. The person seemed surprised as they handed one cup to them, offering a quiet ‘thank you’ in response. “Or, um, Lady Ubuyashiki?”

“Most of the Corps’ children would call me Lady Amane,” she explained, “but you do not have to, since it is just us. You may call me Mrs. Ubuyashiki or even Mrs. Amane if you wish. Truthfully, even in front of others, you may still address me a bit less formally. It is only a display of respect, and we do not demand respect from our children. It is completely up to you if you wish to refer to me formally or informally.”

A timid smile graced their face as they gazed down at the cup clutched between their two hands. “Mrs. Ubuyashiki… if I am a descendant of a swordsman, does that mean my little brothers are as well? And one of my parents?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Amane confirmed, “but neither my husband nor I could ask young children to make the same commitment that we are asking of you. Furthermore, we also cannot ask a father to leave his home—his wife and his children—to fight in a war that defies nature, such as this one.”

She raised the cup to her lips, basking in and appreciating both the warmth and flavor of the tea. It was a very much welcomed courtesy after her journey to find them.

Silence descended upon the group for a short moment.

Their little brothers, the twins… they were only four. She was indeed correct; they barely knew right from wrong at that age. It was far too young, and to ask their father to abandon his wife and little children would be deeply insensitive. She was right.

Perhaps…

Perhaps they really were the only viable candidate among their family at the moment.

Before they could speak, Amane did.

“Please understand that this is your choice,” she said. “We will not hold it against you if you say no. It is a difficult burden to bear. There are not many people who are suited for it, and there is no shame in being unsuited to carry such a weight on your shoulders.”

“I understand,” they reassured, gnawing on the corner of their lip thoughtfully. “If… If I were to join the Demon Slayer Corps, what would that mean? What would happen?”

Amane hummed thoughtfully. It was a valid question, and one that she had to answer very wisely.

“If you were to join the Corps,” she began, “it would mean that you lose the promise of a tomorrow.”

“I don’t think anyone is promised a tomorrow,” they cut in. “I mean, there is no way of knowing if we’ll really wake up tomorrow morning, is there? That’s why you have to cherish the moment while you’re in it, and be kind without reservation.”

“...You’re right, little one. No-one who walks this world is promised a tomorrow. The members of the Corps have a very special understanding of this. If you join, you must understand that you could die at any given time, but it seems you already know this.”

“My father taught me that. We don’t live very long, so we should make the most of it.”

She smiled. They could not help but mirror it.

“He was right.” She then continued, “Given that you understand this idea, I do not feel the need to emphasize it any longer. You asked what would happen, what it would mean to join… it would mean joining a war. You are welcome to leave at any time, but most do not. Many spend their entire lives fighting off demons to keep other people safe.”

“I would be protecting others.”

“Yes.”

“So…” They met her gaze; there was a kind of wisdom in their young eyes, and it astounded her a bit. “Even though I would be leaving my family for who knows how long, I would get to protect them. To lower the chance that a demon might wander into our home and… and unjustly end our lives. If I joined the Corps, we wouldn’t be defenseless…”

Demons were an invisible threat—a threat that they did not know existed, but one that they were now acutely aware of, and one that they would not be able to forget now that it had been revealed to them.

“Yes.”

“I could protect innocent lives.”

“You could, indeed, but there is another thing you must be aware of: to join the Corps, you must train for and then survive a week-long event on a demon-infested mountain. Many people train for at least two years before this event, but some… well, some train for a much shorter amount of time and still survive. It will depend on you and your specific abilities.”

"I see," they murmured softly, allowing the information to sink in. They stared into the swirling green tea in their cup.

They were only eleven, soon to turn twelve. Were they capable of making this kind of decision? Were they allowed to? Was this okay? What might their father say, when they inevitably discuss the entirety of their encounter with Amane with him?

…

They didn’t know. They couldn’t be sure, but their heart was set—they wanted to do this. Protecting people, they and their father both believed, was a noble endeavor; he always encouraged them to be kind and selfless, and… it was indeed true that they mostly wanted to protect their family from a threat that otherwise could not be fended off. Nonetheless, they would still protect strangers.

They would get to protect everyone.

At their extended silence, Amane spoke up, "I understand if this is jarring and sudden—"

“No— I mean, it is,” they managed to chuckle a bit as they gazed at her. “It’s okay, though, because if I become a Demon Slayer, I can protect people. I can protect my family so that no demon ever gets the chance to hurt them, right?”

Amane was quiet for a second. Then, she offered the smallest yet sweetest smile. "Yes, that’s right."

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

The golden afternoon light bathed their face in its gentle warmth.

Shortly following Amane’s departure, they had returned to chopping wood, though the encounter never did leave their head. Truthfully, for the following hours, it was all they could think about; the repetitive nature of their task did not make it any easier not to focus on what had happened.

However, what did make it easy to forget about (at least, for the moment) was the sound of small, excited footsteps heading in their direction. They smiled to themselves, setting the axe down before turning around.

“[Name]! [Name], look!” the brighter of the twins, Muichiro, exclaimed as he ran up to them, stumbling cutely to a stop before thrusting his arm outwards and up towards them. In it, a little flower was clasped. “It’s for you!”

Amusedly trailing behind the boy were both parents and his slightly older brother, whose hand was held only somewhat securely in his mother’s. They waved with a bright smile at their parents before turning their attention back to their brother and kneeling down. “Aw,” they cooed. “Thank you Mui. That’s really sweet.”

“Yuichiro has one too, but he’s too shy to give it to you,” the boy commented as he gently, gingerly placed the flower behind their ear.

“Oh?” they replied, a teasing lilt in their voice as they curiously shifted their gaze from the youngest twin to the eldest. Yuichiro puffed out his slightly flushed cheeks with childish irritation that they had to actively restrain themselves from cooing at. “Is that so?”

“Don’t say that, Muichiro,” Yuichiro huffed, shaking his hand free of his mother’s grip and reluctantly shuffling over to them. “Here,” he murmured, tucking his flower behind their other ear.

They stared. Yuichiro knew instantly that he was in trouble. ‘Trouble,’ of course, meaning nothing serious—only that they were going to relentlessly tease him until the event became overshadowed by other tease-worthy occurrences.

“You know, that’s cute,” they teased, hands reaching out and gently patting each of their heads, “you guys are the cutest.”

Their parents only smiled at the interaction.

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

“Papa,” they murmured quietly from their place a few feet behind him where they were sitting on a vacant stump, fidgeting with their sleeves as they thought about how to proceed—how to bring up what had happened earlier in the day. The rhythmic snapping of wood that they had grown so used to came to a halt as the man smiled, his warm eyes turning to his oldest child.

The light of the afternoon had long since sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky an ombre of blues as it got darker, shadows enveloping the world in the sun’s absence. Their father’s voice was gentle, considerate of their blatant anxiety, as he asked, “What is it?”

“You know the stories about Demon Slayers you tell me sometimes?” they wondered, gaze directed downwards as an inexplicable sense of guilt began to settle in their gut. It was as if they were doing something wrong, as if the direction that the conversation would inevitably go in was somehow punishable. He walked over to them, kneeling in front of where they were sitting. “Are— are they true..?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t tell you lies,” he laughed, reaching out to ruffle their hair. For a brief moment, the gesture seemed to calm their racing heart and trembling palms ever so slightly, but the anxiety came back just as soon as it had gone. “Why the sudden interest?”

Their stomach twisted.

…But really, they had no way out of it now—the truth was going to come out one way or another, and if they tried to back out, it would look suspicious.

They always told him when something was bothering them. This ‘something’ should have been no different, but it was.

“Um, when you all were out today…” they trailed off, now picking at the skin around their nails. Their father’s gentle but calloused—equally calloused as their own, if not more so—hands cupped theirs the second they began to do so. It was as if he was softly discouraging them from doing something that could be potentially harmful. Of course, the gentle discouragement would never be enough to fully put a stop to the habit, but it was good enough for the time being.

“Go on. What is on your mind?”

“When you all were out today,” they continued, taking a deep breath to soothe themselves, “a woman visited. She was nice. Her name was Ubuyashiki Amane. She explained to me that I had descended from a swordsman.”

“That’s true,” their father confirmed, thumbs rubbing along their knuckles. “Somewhere on my side of the family, I believe, there was a great swordsman.”

“Right.” They nodded. “She didn’t say what side, but… that’s what she told me. She’s the wife of the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, and she asked me if I would join them.”

“...Well, do you want to?”

“Yes…” Ashamed heat built up underneath their skin, and they only managed to squeak out a quiet ‘I’m sorry.’

“No, no,” he immediately insisted, gripping his child’s hands with more purpose now. “Don’t be sorry. Just answer me this, okay? Do you understand the implications of that?”

They could only nod. It was far too hard to speak under the weight of guilt and shame and embarrassment creeping around their neck and onto their chest.

“You are no weak child.” He smiled again. “I have to be honest, [Name]. I would rather that you didn’t join them, but I also know that you would make a fine swordsman.”

“You— you think so?”

“I’m certain of it.”

A calm, reassuring silence descended. They were exceedingly aware of the ambient sounds of the night—the distant hum of insects, the—now much colder—breeze still weaving its way through the grass and leaves…

“I know it’s dangerous,” they whispered, “but I want to be able to save people, papa. I want to be able to save you and mama and— and Mui and Yui—”

“Shh. I know, little one. The last thing I want is to see you get hurt,” he said, now caressing their face with his hands and bringing his forehead to theirs, “but that is a beautiful want. I raised you this way, so this comes as no surprise to me. Will she be returning?”

“She said she would come back in three days.”

He then withdrew, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head. “Then… I suppose I’ll have to let you go in three days.”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

That night, the only thing they could hear was the pounding of rain on the roof and the roaring of rain throughout the night.

A soft sigh left their lips, head resting against one of the walls of their small, cozy room. Despite the powerful sense of safety their little room induced, sleep failed to find them. No matter how hard they tried, they simply could not fall asleep. Was it anxiety? Was it the stress of the day, of the decision they made? Was it the knowledge that in three days, they’d be leaving? They didn’t know. They couldn’t be sure.

Again, they sighed. Their eyelids closed as they listened to the repetitive tapping of the rain.

Over the rain, they just barely managed to catch the sound of their door sliding open, but they did manage to catch it. Their tired eyes opened. Upon seeing the boy in the doorway, they smiled.

“Hi, Yui.”

It most certainly was not the first time one of the twins ran to their room late at night; shockingly, however, it was usually the oldest who would run to them. Muichiro was notorious for being a heavy sleeper, and he generally didn’t have nightmares, nor did thunderstorms wake him up. Yuichiro, however, slept far more lightly and was prone to waking up in the middle of the night. He disliked bothering his parents and would typically be the one to comfort Muichiro if he couldn’t sleep, so who did the older of the twins end up running to when he had trouble sleeping?

His older sibling, of course. They would not have it any other way.

“I guess the thunder’s just a bit too loud for you tonight,” they mused, just loud enough to be heard over the storm but not loud enough to potentially wake up anyone else. Yuichiro trembled, chewing on his bottom lip; even in the dark, they could still see the gloss of unshed tears in his eyes. “C’mere,” they murmured, opening their arms invitingly. “Guess mama and papa are asleep if you’re running to me, huh? And I’ll bet Mui is too, the heavy sleeper he is.”

Yuichiro nodded quickly, shuffling over to them. They lifted up their blanket, readjusting it over his head when he crawled onto their futon. The way the blanket draped over his head and body almost made it look as if he was wearing a cloak of sorts—the thought made them giggle.

When loud thunder suddenly struck, the boom! resonating all throughout the area, he squeaked, burying his face in their torso. They hummed, leaning back against the wall. "It’s okay to be scared," they murmured now that he was close enough to hear. Soothingly, their fingers toyed with his long hair. "I’m here. I’m watching over you. You’re safe, alright?"

Though he would likely not admit it out loud, their words soothed the fear building in his little body. He finally relaxed against their chest.

Soon enough, he'd fallen asleep like that. It was easy to tell; the frantic, panicked breaths had become steady and slow, and he would no longer give any indication of having heard whatever they were saying to him. After some time of sitting there with him, they found that his light weight against their chest was aiding with their own sleeplessness. Eventually, they too managed to fall asleep.

The next morning consisted much of their parents cooing over how cute the two were.

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Three days passed peacefully without incident.

Just as Amane had promised, she returned on the morning of the fourth day, again with a Demon Slayer at her side. They weren’t sure if it was the same one, but they supposed that didn’t really matter much.

“Shall we take this conversation outside?” their mother suggested, to which they nodded… but they did not fail to notice their little brothers’ intense stares boring into the back of their skull from their hiding place behind one of the other doors, and it seemed that their mother also noticed.

“I’ll tell them to wait in here, mama.”

She smiled, thanking her child before stepping outside with her husband and Amane. Only when the front door had shut did they turn around, meeting their brothers’ gazes with equal intensity, making them squeak in unison.

“Psst. Come here, you two.”

Defeatedly, the twins waddled out. Muichiro was lightly clutching Yuichiro’s sleeve. Perhaps it was because of the presence of an unfamiliar woman? Muichiro was shy. He always had been—Yuichiro was the calmer one, in that respect. Muichiro was friendly, having waved timidly in Amane’s direction when she entered, but he was still shy. Their father was always trying to encourage him to be bolder, but that was easier said than done. It was often in his moments of anxiety, such as the current one, that he clung onto his twin brother, so… they supposed that could be why.

No. That was most definitely why.

They kneeled down to the height of their little siblings. “Listen, I’m going away for some time, okay?”

Muichiro’s reaction was instant—little mint eyes widened as he immediately reached forward, now tugging on their sleeve with a pouty expression. “No,” he whined. “[Name] can’t leave…”

“I’m not leaving forever!” they quickly clarified, at which the younger twin seemed to calm down somewhat. “I’ll visit as much as I can, and I’ll send lots of letters and presents, okay?”

They knew very well that they could not promise many visits, though… they would try their best. Hopefully, that would be enough for their brothers.

Yuichiro, too, pouted, shooting them a childishly cute glare as he—rather weakly; he was just far too little to do any real damage—punched their arm. “You better,” he huffed.

“Of course,” they reassured. “I can’t disappoint my little brothers, now can I?”

Both boys shook their heads, as if to agree and say, ‘No, you can’t.’ Though, they were not oblivious, and they took notice of the generally downcast demeanors the two bore. Well… if their mother wasn’t here, wasn’t looking, then… they grinned a mischievous smile, reaching into the clothes draped over their body and pulled out two pieces of candy. Their clothes, particularly the folds and the sleeves, were exceptional places to store bribery material.

The two children seemed to brighten up almost instantly at the sight of the sweets in their open palm (though, the brightening was less obvious on Yuichiro’s face, but they could tell that his mood did indeed improve, if only a little). Each took one from their palm, and they leaned forward to press kisses to each of their foreheads.

“Don’t tell mama, okay?”

“[Name],” Yuichiro whined in protest, his face twisting in dramatic disgust. Muichiro only giggled at his brother’s annoyance. “Gross.”

“Oh, hush,” they replied. “It’s not gross.”

“Yeah, it is,” the older of the twins insisted, sticking his tongue out at them, to which they playfully rolled their eyes. “Bleh.”

“Hey, you’re going to miss my ‘gross’ affection when I’m not at home all the time to give it to you,” they laughed as they stood up. “I’m going to head outside now, okay? Me, mama, and papa are just going to talk to that nice lady, so wait in here for us.”

When the twins finally nodded, their reluctance not completely erased but placated for the moment, they finally slid open the front door and stepped out of the house.

“Good morning, Lady Amane,” they greeted with a little smile as they closed the door behind them before walking over to said woman, who was in conversation with their parents. A small smile graced her elegant features once her eyes landed on them.

“Hello, child.”

A hand belonging to none other than their father found its way onto their head, ruffling their locks of hair, before falling back to his side. “So, they’ll have a safe place to stay while training, and you won’t let them go to… ah, forgive me—the Final Selection, was it called?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, “and please, do not worry. We would not permit a child under our care to partake in the selection unless they were fully prepared to do so. Furthermore, we would be more than happy to host them at our home on the days that they do not return home.”

Though their mother was reluctant—far more so than their father—she sighed, wringing her hands together before her arms settled back down at her sides. “Well… very well, then.” Her cool, mint-toned eyes shifted downwards to them. They stared back up at her, wide-eyed and anticipating her response. Her nimble fingers gently raked through their hair, stroking over the top of her oldest child’s head and down to just below their ear, before settling on cupping their face. “You have to promise to write to us often and come to visit when you can, okay?”

“Yes! I will, mama, I promise.”

“Then… you may go. Be careful, love, and save lots of people, too.”

“I will!”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Truth be told, they did not own much. There wasn’t much of anything they needed to take with them—even clothes were not necessary, since Amane said that the Corps would cover it.

Following the conversation, after giving hugs and—much to Yuichiro’s absolute despair—kisses, they left alongside the woman.

“The journey back will be long,” Amane began, tilting her face in their direction to speak directly to them. They couldn’t help but admire the way her pale locks framed her face, tickling her cheeks and truly reinforcing the noble image of her that they had created in their head. “Therefore, we will spend the night at the current Flame Hashira’s manor. Demons are at their most active at nighttime, as they cannot survive exposure to direct sunlight, so we should avoid traveling after sundown as diligently as possible.”

“Hashira?”

“Ah. You have not yet learned of our ranking system… it seems I neglected to explain that detail. I am sorry, little one.”

“No, no!” They waved their hands frantically as they went on to reassure her: “Please don’t apologize to me! It’s okay! I’m sure there’s lots of things you couldn’t possibly have had the time to explain to me in the short conversations we’ve had! It’s not your fault!”

“Shall I explain now, then?” Briefly, she turned to face the accompanying Demon Slayer. “How long is the trip to Lord Rengoku’s estate?”

Immediately, the person straightened up, giving her their complete attention. “Yes, Lady Amane! The walk will be about three hours!”

“Then,” she began, turning back to face them with what seemed to be her usual serenity, “we do have time, if you would like to hear the explanation of the ranking system as we walk. It will also be explained to you at the end of the Final Selection, but you needn’t wait until then if you would like to know in advance.”

“If you wouldn’t mind”--they offered her a timid smile, almost embarrassed to ask such a thing of her, even though she was the one who extended the offer in the first place—”I would like to hear about it. Since— since we have the time. If you don’t mind. Um. I said that already, didn’t I..?”

She mirrored their smile, except hers reflected great grace and calmness that theirs certainly lacked (at least, that it lacked in that moment; something about their situation felt exceedingly surreal, as if they could not believe that it was actually happening, so it was quite difficult to maintain a steady expression and tone).

“Very well. At the very bottom are Mizunotos…”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Amane’s explanation, naturally, did not last the full three hours it took to reach the estate.

Really, it only took about thirty minutes. They did, however, ask a multitude of questions that extended the length of the discussion for quite some time. The conversation drifted between topics—she did not have any children yet, they learned, though she did express the desire to have a few; they wondered if she felt at all compelled to, or if she simply wanted to be a mother… it wasn’t their place to make any kind of assumptions, so they did not dare to ask such a question—for some time, before settling into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the walk.

By the time they reached the open gate of the house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon.

“Good afternoon, Lord Rengoku.”

A man stood tall slightly in front of the gateway, white haori dipped in the tones of flames blowing in the breeze alongside his matching hair (really, all they could possibly think when they looked at him was flames). Beside him stood a boy practically identical to him.

Oh, that had to be his son. They genuinely could not fathom another explanation.

“Lady Amane,” the older man greeted, his sharp gaze briefly flicking in their direction and making them squeak at its intensity, “welcome. I hope your journey was pleasant.”

“It went smoothly. Thank you for your concern.” She then reached out, placing a gentle hand on their upper back. They instinctively straightened up somewhat, now completely under the scrutiny of that intense-eyed man and his intense-eyed son. “This is Tokito [Name], one living descendant of the first swordsman to use Breathing Styles, Tsugikuni Yoriichi.”

“I see.”

“It— It’s nice to meet you, sir!” they exclaimed, voice wavering slightly under the weight of their sudden shyness, bowing at the waist level.

Silence.

Then, a gruff snort—a chuckle—from the older man. A tough hand settled on their head and ruffled their locks. “Hey, kid. I am Rengoku Shinjuro, the Demon Slayer Corps’ Flame Hashira. Stand up straight. You know how to use a sword?”

“I don’t, sir,” they replied, straightening their body once again and beginning to pick at the skin around their nails.

(This time, their father was not there to gently stop them. It was too soon to be growing homesick, but suddenly, a little bit of sadness settled in their gut. They could only hope that it did not show on their face.)

“Well, now’s as good a time as any to start learning.” He turned his attention to his son. “Kyojuro—”

“Yes, father!”

Oh. They winced. That boy was surely going to blow their eardrums out if he kept talking like that, but at the very least, his enthusiasm made them feel a bit better.

“--why don’t you go ahead and teach them the basics of swordsmanship?”

He beamed at the idea; they almost had to squint at the sheer brightness his face shone with. “Yes, father!”

Kyojuro looked at them with a grin, his shoulders squared and proud as he extended one of his hands to them. “I am Rengoku Kyojuro!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rengoku, I’m— ah?!” they cut themselves off with a yelp as, the very second they placed their hand in his, he darted off beyond the gates and into the estate’s grounds, effectively dragging them along with him. They barely even had time to spare Amane a glance.

Then, he suddenly stopped, causing them to stumble into his back with a small ‘oof!’

“Ow.”

“Sorry!” he apologized, glancing around the open space, as if searching for something. His gaze landed on a weapon rack, and his face immediately brightened again as he walked over to it. Two wooden swords, among a variety of other weapons, rested there. He picked up both. Then, with only a quick ‘Catch!’ as a warning, he tossed one in their direction.

Deft hands caught it by the handle.

Having spent much of their childhood chopping wood, they knew not to catch or grab any tools by the blade unless completely necessary.

(When Muichiro was two, a visitor to their home left one hatchet in an extremely poor place. When it fell down, it may have very well split the poor boy’s face in half…

…If not for their stopping it with their hand, that is. He did end up with a little bit of blood on his face, but they were just thankful that it wasn’t his; their wound meant nothing as long as he was okay. The scar, even two years later, would still stare back at them if they were to open their right hand and look for it—a huge slit across their palm that could have very easily affected their grip strength permanently. It served as a reminder of the stupid things they would do to protect their little brothers.

Their current endeavor was also kind of stupid, now that they thought about it.)

Technically, the wooden sword had no blade. It was more about the principle than the actual situation; they should never get into the habit of grabbing a wooden sword by its “blade,” lest that habit end up getting them hurt when they start using real swords with real blades.

Kyojuro seemed delighted at their handling of the practice sword, too.

“Okay!” he exclaimed. “Your first lesson is on how to hold the sword correctly! And the proper stance!”

“The correct stance…” they echoed quietly.

“Yes. When you stand, your feet should be shoulder’s width apart,” Kyojuro explained. Subconsciously, they adjusted their stance when he explained. He seemed to have calmed down somewhat by then, the volume of his voice having lowered quite considerably as he settled into his explanation. He approached them, gently and carefully tapping the back of their locked knees with his practice sword. “Also, don’t lock your knees”

“Right.”

“If you lock your knees, it makes it easier for people to knock you off balance. Sometimes it also can lead to injuries or make it easier for you to be injured, so keep them slightly bent at all times. There might be exceptions later down the line, but that’s just the general rule.”

The younger child stepped back, raising his hand to his chin thoughtfully as he picked apart their stance for any significant errors or anything that needed to be corrected. When he found nothing, he nodded firmly, his bright smile returning to replace the thoughtful expression on his face.

“Onto holding the sword, then!”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

By the time Kyojuro had gone over all the basics that he felt were necessary, the sun had long since set, leaving the moon in its wake to bathe the Earth below in its soothing, cool light. The boy with the fiery hair had insisted on sparring with them.

‘Just a little!’ he had said. ‘I won’t push you too hard!’

…They shot said boy a playful glare as their chest heaved, the wooden sword helping to support some of their weight as they caught their breath. They were careful to not put too much weight on the sword, though—oh, they’d feel terrible if they somehow broke or chipped it, no matter how unlikely that scenario actually was.

(Amane had mentioned on the journey to the Flame Estate that Hashira are paid as much as they want, so they were fairly certain that Shinjuro would easily be able to afford a replacement without even causing so much as a dent in his savings. Still… they were a guest. To just waltz into someone’s home and recklessly break their belongings would be utterly unforgivable!

…Even if that wouldn’t have even been close to what would have happened.)

Kyojuro laughed boisterously at the look they gave him. “You’re strong, Tokito!”

“Thanks… so are you. Ahh… my arms hurt…”

He didn’t reply for a moment—if he was looking at something, they couldn’t really tell, as their head was tilted down while they tried to catch their breath and slow their racing heartbeat.

“Oh!” he suddenly gasped, grabbing their hand and running over to one of the entrances to the house. “Hello, mother! This is Tokito [Name]!”

Between the shock of being suddenly dragged along again and the panting from sparring with him, it took them a minute to raise their head. When they did, however, they were greeted with the sight of a dark-haired, red-eyed woman (she looked concerningly pale, they noted, but did not ask about something so potentially personal) with a boy identical to Kyojuro and his father clutching her sleeve shyly. He didn’t dare to meet their gaze, no matter how gentle they may have looked.

“You have a brother?” they asked Kyojuro, smiling kindly at the little boy when he made a small noise of surprise at being indirectly addressed.

Before the older son could respond, the woman did. “Yes,” she said. “This is Rengoku Senjuro, and I am Rengoku Ruka.”

The lady of the house.

“Ah, I’m— I’m so sorry for not addressing you first, Lady Rengoku!” they quickly apologized. “It’s just that I have—”

She raised a hand, and they stopped.

“Please. Mrs. Rengoku is perfectly fine,” she softly assured. “Continue, little one.”

“Ah… of course, Mrs. Rengoku.” Heat rushed to their cheeks, and they reached up to shyly scratch the back of their neck. “I have little brothers that are probably around his age, and one of them is really shy. It just made me think of him, so I wanted to address Senjuro gently instead of pretending he wasn’t there. All kids are different, but… I think that maybe it helps to establish kindness first and foremost.”

The ghost of a smile graced her lips at that. “It is to protect them that you’ve decided to join the Corps, yes?”

“Yes, miss. That is a big part of why,” they started, “but I also want to protect a lot of other people, too. My dad always told me I should.”

She nodded. Something unidentifiable flashed across her face for a moment, but just as fast as it had arrived, it left. All they could discern was that it was not necessarily negative. She then began to speak again.

“Thank you for being Kyojuro’s friend. I hope Senjuro will also be friends with you one day.”

The little boy buried his face in his mother’s side at that.

Somehow—though they were sure it should not have been possible—Kyojuro’s face brightened immeasurably, as if it wasn’t bright enough already. He had yet to let go of their hand.

“Oh— oh, of course!” No friendship had really been ‘formally established,’ in that he never explicitly asked if they wanted to be friends with him, but they didn’t mind much. “No, I really should be thanking him… he’s technically my first friend within the Corps, or my first friend who is associated with the Corps. It makes the idea of beginning my training before the Final Selection seem a lot less intimidating.”

“That is good, then.” Her gaze shifted between the two of them. She looked as if she were contemplating something, as if whatever she planned to say next had to be considered carefully. Then, she finally murmured, “Protect one another out there, alright?”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Morning had come quickly after the conversation with Ruka. They had been fed, clothed, and given a room to stay in. Once the sun had risen and they greeted the Hashira, they tried to return the nightclothes, but Shinjuro had simply brushed it off, telling them that they should keep the set. Following that, Amane had departed with them and her Demon Slayer guard, though not before they said their goodbyes to Kyojuro.

The remainder of the walk—about four hours—was completed in peaceful silence.

As they approached, finally approached, their destination, an overwhelming but not unpleasant scent filled their senses.

“Wisteria?”

“It wards off demons.”

“I see…” they murmured, awestruck at the sheer amount of wisteria trees surrounding the estate, the vines draping down and creating what could only possibly be described as an ethereal barrier between the outside world and the important family that lived within.

Upon pushing past the flower barrier, their eyes widened somewhat.

"This," Amane began, "is the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters. My husband and I live here. You are welcome to stay here until after the Final Selection, when you begin missions."

“Are…” They trailed off, eyes flicking around the astonishing expanse of the home and admiring its beauty. Their attention was also drawn to the masked Demon Slayers scurrying around; unlike regular Slayers, these did not bear weapons. Other Demon Slayers, they also noted, seemed to always be unmasked, but these...

“They’re the Kakushi,” Amane’s guard said. They blinked—once, twice. That was the first time that they’d heard that person speak a whole sentence. Ignoring their bewilderment, the guard went on: “You could think of them as a cleanup and medical crew. They’re usually the people who have no swordsmanship skills, but still wanted to help our cause in some way.”

“Ah.”

“Right. Well, then…” The Slayer stepped forward and bowed to Amane. “I will be taking my leave, Lady Amane! I pray for your continued safety!”

“Very well.” Amane nodded. “Thank you for escorting us safely.”

“Of course!”

With that, the person was off, and they were reminded of what they were initially going to ask.

“Um… are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here, Lady Amane? I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Worry not,” she reassured. “It is no imposition. Come along. The master would like to meet you."

With graceful, practiced strides, she began walking again, and they were quick to stumble after her. They followed along closely as she entered the home (though not before removing her shoes, and they swiftly followed her motion), peering curiously down different hallways as they walked.

Already, they could foresee themselves getting lost… and probably more than once. The halls weren’t particularly difficult to navigate—there were just an astonishing amount of them that branched off, leading to different rooms and sometimes even additional hallways. It was dizzying, in a way.

They couldn’t linger on those thoughts for too long, though, as Amane slowed to a stop in front of one particular room. Her gentle hands slid the door open, and she motioned for them to go inside.

“Go ahead. Master is waiting.”

“You’re not coming?”

She smiled. The gesture alone immensely reassured them, easing whatever irrational concerns they had fabricated in their mind. “No, young one. I also have my own responsibilities to take care of, but worry not. Whatever it is that you are expecting, whatever you have envisioned that is causing you such fear, I assure you that the boy in that room will be nothing like it.”

Boy?

Nonetheless, they nodded, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ to her before stepping inside. She slid the door closed once they did.

Beyond the threshold of the door, they spotted him for the first time—a dark-haired boy barely any older than they were, sitting with his legs tucked underneath himself on one side of a short table. The other side was vacant, presumably a seat for anyone he needed to speak to. Their breath hitched.

He really was a boy. If they had to guess, they would say he was maybe twelve or thirteen; he was virtually their age. It made them fleetingly wonder how he could sit there and look so graceful. When the weight of leading the entire Corps through what could only be described as a war, how could he look so at peace? They dared not ask. Maybe they were too afraid to, or perhaps they really didn’t want to know.

His attention shifted to them, and he smiled.

They would be nervous to be under his scrutiny, but… it really didn’t feel like he was scrutinizing them—only gazing over their nervous form. It was then that they took notice of the sickly purple threatening to creep down his face from his hairline, which was another thing they were not keen on asking about, whether that be because they did not want to come off as impolite or because they knew that the answer may not be pleasant.

“Come. Have a seat,” he beckoned gently, tone making their head spin at its utter softness.

They snapped out of their daze, timidly shuffling over to the table and gingerly situating themselves on the side opposite to him. Embarrassed heat flooded their cheeks at the simple thought alone that their first impression might have gone poorly. They stood there like a child awaiting instruction! They tried not to think too deeply about that, lest they grow overcome by the wish to melt into the floor and disappear. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” he reassured. “My name is Ubuyashiki Kagaya. You may address me in whatever manner that you feel most comfortable, but most of the Corps’ children call me me Master. It is a pleasure to meet you, [Name].”

“Y— You as well,” they somehow managed to stutter out, feeling a bit lighter every time he spoke to them.

Carefully, with motions surely just as practiced as—if not more so than—Amane, he rose to his feet. “Walk with me. Any questions you may have, I would be more than happy to answer.”

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Questions, questions.

They certainly had many. How did the Corps come to be? They had heard Lady Amane mention breathing styles—what exactly were they? Each question was answered in full with kind patience. Kagaya truly was more than happy to engage them as he brought them around the estate grounds. They’d even gotten answers to questions they were previously afraid to ask without even needing to work up the courage to ask them. Every single detail about the Corps was covered thoroughly, and the knowledge they attained was beyond reassuring. Things no longer seemed so intimidating.

Of course, the idea of going head-to-head in combat with a demon whose strength undoubtedly exceeded theirs as a human was… certainly unsettling. It was still intimidating, but at the very least, they now fully understood the expectations in place for them and all other Demon Slayers.

Coming to a halt in front of a door, Kagaya turned to them. “This is the room in which you will be staying. It is quite barren at this time, but you are wholly encouraged to decorate it to your tastes.”

The walk continued after that. Down another hallway, turning another few corners… and then, he stopped again, this time sliding the door he had stopped in front of open.

Warm, gentle rays of sunlight seeped into the room through a crack in another door opposite to where they were standing. If they had to make a guess, they would say that it led out into the little courtyard garden in the middle of the house. Shelves lined the inside of the room, filled to the brim with stacks of books on a vast variety of topics. A small table sat in an otherwise vacant space between two of the bookcases.

“In this room, you will find books on quite possibly anything you could imagine,” Kagaya began, watching with a gentle, adorning smile as they cautiously stepped into the room, as if they feared causing even the smallest bit of damage or disturbance. “In particular, you should be able to find a record of nearly every breathing style to exist, even the unique ones that were personally tailored to suit their creator’s needs. Spend as much time as you would like in here. Find a breathing style that resonates with you, and then come find either myself or Amane.”

They nodded fervently, quickly spinning around to face him and bowing. “I will. Thank you.”

“Also,” he started once more, “do not be shy to explore the expanse of the estate’s land. You will be spending some time here, so please do familiarize yourself with the layout.”

“Yes, I will,” they replied, standing up straight once again. “Thank you again.”

With that, he nodded at them, the soft smile on his lips still remaining as he slid the door shut, before—presumably—leaving.

A gentle, thoughtful hum rose in their throat as they stepped closer to one of the shelves. Mindful fingertips trailed along the spines of each book, reading the labels as they went along. It just so happened that this shelf was one of what they assumed would be many with some books about breathing styles.

Kagaya’s explanation was thorough. From it, they had come to understand the five fundamental Breathing Styles—Water, Flame, Wind, Stone, and Thunder. Then, the derivatives, such as Flower, Insect, and Mist. Their options were plentiful and certainly not limited, which they supposed was a good thing, but it was also… overwhelming. Insanely so. How were they meant to know which Breathing Style would be the best for them, for their body?

…Maybe they should ask Kagaya.

Though, that could wait until later. For now, the very least they could do was research—the only way they’d know what Breath Style to pursue would be by investigating the demands of each one.

Of course, their combat style was hardly even their main focus; first and foremost, they would need to focus on getting stronger. However, it was never a bad idea to prepare in advance, and the leader of the Corps must have thought the same; otherwise, they couldn’t possibly imagine why he might lead them here and leave them to their devices.

A soft sigh left through their nose, thoughts drifting back to the family they left behind. It really was too soon to grow homesick, and yet…

They were utterly powerless to stop sick feeling from clawing at their throat and sinking into their skin.

They hadn’t thought too deeply about it before, but from here on out, they saw themselves being exceedingly busy. Too busy to visit as often as they would like to, at least. They could only see it getting worse one they were actually an active member of the Corps. Would they have time to see their parents? To see their brothers? The thought that their family may one day perceive their joining the Corps as abandonment made their stomach twist, as if someone shoved a knife into them.

…But there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. No amount of regret could change the decision they made, and really, could they say they regretted it? They didn’t think so. What they did regret, however, was how distant their home was from the Ubuyashiki Estate. Seven hours… it was quite the distance.

They sighed again, shaking those thoughts off before they could spiral again as they delicately plucked one book out of its spot.

Its contents were about the most basic of Breathing Styles—Water Breathing.

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

What had once been light yellow midday light peeking through the crack of the door was now golden, late afternoon light that crawled further into the space than it did before as the sun crept downwards.

Sleepily, their hand toyed with the edge of one paper page, the other hand being used to prop up their chin as they fought desperately to keep their heavy eyelids open. Lazy eyes sluggishly scanned the words hand-written on the page, barely comprehending what was written—something about the proper positioning of each foot for the specific form that they were reading about, which was… actually, they weren’t even sure anymore. What Breathing Style was this book even about? Their head hurt.

Two other books were neatly stacked off to the side.

It had taken quite a few hours of walking to get from the Flame Estate to the Ubuyashiki Estate. Although they were well-used to physical exertion—one impact of growing up among a family of woodcutters—walking for hours on end was tiring, especially for someone so young. Though, it was hardly the physical exertion that made them tired, but that paired with the mental exhaustion caused by studying several different books for multiple hours was certainly enough to make them sleepy.

"I see you’ve taken interest in Mist Breathing," a calm voice, harboring just the slightest twinge of amusement, spoke up, scaring them into awareness.

Oh, right. Mist Breathing. That’s what the book in front of them was about.

Their eyes snapped fully open, body jolting into an upright position. Once they swiftly twisted their body to look at the source of the voice, they calmed down somewhat, although their face did flood with embarrassed warmth again. “Master…"

A light chuckle resonated through the room. He paced over to the table, situating himself at the other end. “We, unfortunately, do not have any active trainers for Mist Breathing.” His gaze shifted to the other two books. “Ah, Water Breathing and Flower Breathing. While we also lack a trainer for the latter, we do have one for the former, if that is something you would be interested in.”

They perked up suddenly at the discussion of Breathing Styles. Blinking away the growing sleep in their eyes, they dared to finally, properly meet his gaze.

“Oh, actually… how do you know what Breathing Style to pursue? I just… I’m kind of having trouble deciding. It all feels so overwhelming.”

“It is normal to feel that way,” Kagaya assured, “but the truth is that there is no way to simply know.”

“Ah…”

Then, he hummed thoughtfully. “Your ancestor, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, was the creator of Breathing Styles and used the most powerful one of them all, Sun Breathing.”

An unspoken question danced on their lips. They did not need to voice it; Kagaya seemed to know what they might ask, and so, he went on to answer.

“We have very little information about it.”

“Ah. That’s a shame, then.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, nodding. “...If you wanted to pursue it, though, I would not be opposed to doing further research into it.”

Their face brightened up almost instantly. Still, they did not immediately take his offer.

“Are you sure?” they wondered, going to pick at the skin around their nails once again. It was almost guaranteed that their fingertips would be raw within the next few days if they kept it up. “I would not want to ask something so… I don’t know. Something so demanding of you and your time, knowing how busy you are.”

A smile adorned his features, and his eyes crinkled somewhat with something they couldn’t quite discern. It almost seemed to be fondness, or something extremely similar.

“I am quite sure. I would not have extended the offer to you otherwise. I will look into Sun Breathing, but for now, I would advise picking an alternative.”

“Well…” they mused, gaze flicking back down to the open book in front of them. “...In that case, I think I’d like to teach myself Mist Breathing. I am not the type of person to shy away from a challenge.”

Kagaya nodded. "Very well, then. Despite being unable to perform Breathing Styles myself, I have had the immense honor of witnessing many talented swordsmen execute them. As such, I will be able to offer you corrections on your stance, though I am afraid I will not be able to do much else in the way of assisting your training.”

They nodded, listening attentively despite their tiredness.

Truly, it was an honor that he was so willing to help at all; he very well could have left them completely on their own to figure it out, and yet, here he was, expressing regret over being unable to help them in some other way.

"Another important aspect of training for the Final Selection is developing an exercise routine alongside practicing your chosen Breath Style. Your exercise routine should take precedence. The goal is to increase skills such as endurance, speed, and strength," the young leader explained further. Noticing their tired expression, he chuckled. "That is something to handle tomorrow, though. You should rest; your journey was not a short one, after all."

All they could do was offer a timid, astonished nod. The boy then rose to his feet and they quickly followed suit, picking up the three books on the table as they did. With focused caution despite the exhaustion permeating their bones, they put the first two back on the shelves.

"You can borrow the Mist Breathing book," Kagaya said before they could put it away. "It will be a good reference for you to have.”

"Are you sure?" they questioned, holding the last book in their hands. The care with which they held it was almost laughable, though not in a mocking manner—laughable in that their nervousness was simply endearing. It spoke volumes about the way that they were raised. "Is... is that really okay?"

"Of course. Now, come along. You can begin training tomorrow once you have adequately rested."

reblogs with comments or tags > likes. @soleillunne.

#✧— aphe's creations.#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #platonic demon slayer x reader #platonic kny x reader #platonic kimetsu no yaiba x reader #platonic kny #platonic demon slayer #platonic kimetsu no yaiba

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j2lx · 2 years

Text

Nanami Kento as your boyfriend (SFW and NSFW Headcanons)

Warnings: (for SFW section) Mostly Gender Neutral, but implied fem bodied reader for one of the SFW headcanons (on periods =")), NSFW as stated in the title but it will be separated by a pic <3

A/n: Happy Birthday Nanami! I love this man so much omg he's so cool and responsible! He's such husband material omg

(Images do not belong to me. All credit goes to Gege Akutami, MAPPA, and everyone involved in the production of Jujutsu Kaisen)

SFW

- Nanami is the embodiment of a walking green flag. Like he's literally husband material!!!!!

- Will split the responsibilities in the household equally. You never have to worry about doing too many chores because he splits them such that the both of you do your fair share! And if you are sick or whatsoever, he'll do everything so that you can focus on resting <3

- He cooks every single weekend for the both of you. He's so good at cooking (he looks hot doing it too) and he takes the time to learn new recipes so that the both of you have more variety.

- Makes breakfast everyday for you before he goes to work. No matter what, he makes it a must to make breakfast for you every single morning. He makes dinner too if he gets off work on time!

- Has a relatively healthy sleep schedule, but will stay up with you on weekends so that the two of you can talk or do things together! He'll wake up early the next day to make breakfast for sure though <3

- Always brings an extra jacket wherever the two of you go. He wants to make sure that he's well prepared in case it gets cold suddenly. The last thing he wants is for you to catch a chill and fall sick =(

- When you're sick, he literally takes such good care of you! Will make you soup and will ensure that you're in bed, resting. Yes, he will take the day off to make sure you're feeling better. He just wants to make sure you aren't in pain anymore =")

- When you're on your period, he'll make all the foods he knows you like. Always stocks up on your pads before your periods too, so you won't ever run out <3

- Makes sure to kiss and cuddle you in bed every single night before the both of you go to sleep (ofc he cuddles you in his sleep too). He wants to make sure you know just how much he loves you.

- He always listens to your problems and encourages you to talk to him should you be troubled by anything. He's an amazing listener and he gives reasonable and logical advice, as well as encouragement and praises.

- He brings you out on dates at least once every two weeks. Most of the time, he does it once a week but sometimes he gets really busy and needs to do some work. He makes sure to make it up to you on your next date though!

- Dates with Nanami normally consists of the two of you going to check out some new cafes or bakeries! Sometimes, he brings you to different parts of Japan for a the weekend as well <3

- He's already planning for the future! When Nanami dates, he makes sure it's with someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with. So he has planned out your future together (he hasn't told you yet though), like the house the two of you will live in, the number of kids the two of you will have (adoption counts too!) etc (he will talk to you about it though, he doesn't want to force you to have kids if you don't want to!)

- Overall, Nanami is an amazing boyfriend who loves you unconditionally and who will always be there for you.

NSFW (Gender Neutral reader)

Warnings: (all are only implied since this isn't a full fic) Daddy/Sir kink, pet names (princess/prince, baby girl/boy), praise kink, switch Nanami!, BDSM, mentions of punishments, body worship, oral (both receiving), spanking

- Consent is everything to him. If you say no, that's fine. He doesn't want to cross any boundaries and wants to make sure you will enjoy the session as much as he does.

- He's pretty vanilla about sex, until you start calling him "daddy" or "sir".

- Yes he has a daddy/sir kink you cannot change my mind. He likes calling you "princess/prince" and "baby girl/boy" a lot during sex too.

- His favourite position is missionary! He loves seeing your face and it's much easier for him to place kisses all over your face when the two of you get down to it.

- Has a praise kink, both giving and receiving. He loves being praised when he subs for you, and similarly he'll praise you a lot when you're the sub.

- Yes, he subs for you whenever he gets really stressed. He just wants to be taken care of sometimes 🥺

- Prefers giving than receiving. Yes sure, blowjobs feel great. But Kento Nanami is a man who focuses on his partner's pleasure. He'll go down on you mostly for his own pleasure, and he'll enjoy it to the furthest extent possible. This ends up in him overstimulating you from oral most of the time <3

- Body. Worship. When he has sex with you, he makes sure that you know how much he loves and appreciates your body. Expect lots and lots of praises and kisses! He'll leave lots of hickies too so make sure you cover them up (I mean you could expose them too if you wanna)

- Is kind of into BDSM, but mostly uses it to punish you if you've been a brat. He'll be rough during the punishments, but makes sure to take care of you after that.

- He's willing to experiment around with different kinks, as long as it doesn't involve hurting you too much (eg knife play, branding etc). He's fine with spanking, especially when punishing you, as long as you're fine with it

- AFTERCARE WITH THIS MAN IS SO 😍😘 He gets you water, food and basically anything you need, before running a bath for the both of you. He'll soap your body and massage all your sore spots too 🥺

- Apologises for being too rough and kisses you all over to make sure you know he loves you (especially after punishments, he doesn't want you to think he meant anything he said or did).

- Overall, perfect man, super gentlemanly and really gentle after everything!

Hope you enjoyed reading! (Also that was my first NSFW fic so let me know how I can improve ehehe)

Happy Birthday once again to our favourite 7:3 Jujutsu sorcerer! <3

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pillow-anime-talk · 9 months

Note

Hello! For your event can i request 45. “Should I fuck you? So beg for it.” with Haruomi Shingu? Thank you very much!

# tags: scenario; kinda friends with benefits; roommates!au; hot romance; smut; pwp; adult!reader; but still age-gap (10 years); nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual acitivities, from dry humping to lazy sex, sex on the couch, sloppy kisses, hips gripping, kinda daddy kink

includes: gender neutral reader ft. haruomi shingu {paradox live; buraikan}

author’s note: he is so fine...

45. “Should I fuck you? So beg for it.”

It was the most ordinary Friday in the world, and there was nothing to indicate that you were doing anything more that day than making yourself warm dinner, cleaning your bedroom and turning on the latest Netflix series, which premiered since March last year. You recently came back from work, your back hurt and all you wanted was a hot bubble bath, a glass of sweet wine and some peace in the presence of cherry candles. However, plans changed as quickly as the weather outside the window; suddenly the clear blue sky was covered with dark clouds and Japan was covered with torrential rain.

“Should I fuck you? So beg for it.”

That’s the change of plans I was talking about.

Instead of lying under a blanket and eating buttered popcorn, your ruddy face and large pupils were focused on Haruomi, who had come home from his restaurant. His strong, large hands held your hips tightly, and you moved your body, rubbing against the swollen cock hidden under the fabric of black very tight pants, decorated with a belt with silver elements.

You and the man lived together for several years – your presence did not bother the other person, you often passed each other in the corridor or in the kitchen, being from completely different worlds. He worked in a small Chinese bar, which he founded himself, and by the way he had a great musical talent. You focused on developing your career as an employee in an international company as an HR manager, and by the way you had a knack for learning languages. You were complete opposites: you were organized, had natural sleeping and eating habits, while the ten years older man suffered from insomnia and, despite running a restaurant, ate small portions and often drank energy drinks or coffee, and disliked basic household chores. Nevertheless, you got along like old friends without much commitment to each other.

Because of your jobs and way of life too, you both were quite extreme about relationships, marriage, and dating. So you entered into an innocent idea that consisted of an occasional dinner together and an occasional quickie to ease the stress on your souls and forgot about your responsibilities.

“Just fuck me, I know you want it. You can’t stop your body from responding to me.” You replied with a slight smile, pressing harder on his cock, which all he wanted was to free himself from the tight clothes. The dark haired man just rolled his eyes, squeezing the skin on your hips once again. The black T-shirt covering your chest was definitely very unnecessary. So he quickly got rid of it and then changed your position – this time you were on the couch, causing your back to touch the dark, slightly hard surface. “Please.” You gave in, purring low and looking at him with a smol twinkle in your eye. Haruomi only unbuttoned his pants, and after a short second he untied the bow made of a thin string. Your sweatpants have been slightly slid down.

From inside his wallet, which was always in the back pocket of his pants, the man took out a gold-wrapped condom, which he immediately put on his manhood. You immediately wet the underwear that was still on your hips. So you decided to speed up the process of getting ready for sex and took off your comfortable tracksuits and greenish lace panties, dropping them to the dark wooden floor.

“I’m tired and you only think about yourself.” He said in a bored voice. After a short while, he was over your body, tapping the head of his cock against your private parts. You giggled contentedly. “It’s not fun. You work eight hours per day, and I work from the time I wake up until I go to bed.” He rolled his eyes.

You lifted your hips slightly, letting him know you wanted more than stupid talk, and he sighed under his breath.

“... Don’t be so strict, daddy.” You said half jokingly, half seriously. The twinkle in his eye was far too visible. And that was quite motivating.

Haruomi spat on his hand, smearing latex with his own saliva, and then entered you in one quick move. You moaned in pleasure at the feeling of the pleasant pushing against your walls, then wrapped your legs around him.

The light movements of the hips in the next few seconds became much stronger, more measured, definitely deeper. You were in seventh heaven; a hard week at work, recent projects, home chores, meetings with friends and lack of time for yourself was finally rewarded with a moment of pleasure, sloppy kisses full of groans and pleasure touching both the top of your head and all your toes. Your breaths mixed with each other, and your hands automatically tightened on his thin shoulders and soft hair.

“... Don’t stop, please.” You asked softly while your eyelids were squeezed shut. Waves of impending orgasm pounded against your G-spot, against your thoughts. Haruomi buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it lightly and biting it from time to time. Despite fatigue, reluctance to live and a huge desire to close his eyes he was also in huge pleasure – it was perfectly visible.

He hasn’t had a partner for years, and his only distraction from work and meetings with his only friend – Chisei – was you. Your sex was pure pleasure, there was no feeling or love in it.

You both just needed the occasional moment of elation, blissful orgasm, and just the feeling of warmth spreading through your bodies.

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daddy-cake · 1 year

Text

Dating Ghost Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

These are all SFW since well... ew sex... but they are kinda sad

A/N: I fucking hate him and his stupid little mask so much, I just want to rip him apart and blend him

Warnings: My English, a bit of description of gore(only like a sentence long), addiction, abuse, emotionally unavailable, unable to be emotionally vulnerable, angst, beans on toast, and British

MASTERLIST

First things first, you being in a relationship with Ghost is such a miracle, an achievement that most thought was impossible to even accomplish. So give yourself a little pat on the back.

Prior to being in a relationship you two were friends – more like acquaintances from his standpoint – for over 2 years. Throughout the friendship it only seemed like Ghost just viewed you as just someone he had to put up with and made zero indications that he even remotely liked you, so you definitely were the one that asked him out. It took about 4 tries, but you two eventually became a thing.

His nicknames for you are some variation of your name which he will constantly use, but there are VERY rare, like happens once every 2 years, moments where he calls you 'dear'.

If you're someone with a materialistic preference or like the holidays, get ready to change as this man genuinely doesn't do gift giving or celebrating different types of holidays. He views those days as just any other day and he hopes you treat them the same way as he does.

Simon is someone where it's hard for him to be emotionally available and vulnerable. Sure, he does show different emotions from time to time and has a sense of humor, yet it will be hard to show you any sort of love since his background so get ready to feel like this relationship is one-sided.

Going off the last headcanon a bit, Ghost would most likely be a quality time type of guy. Sitting with each other on the couch will be your guys' "dates", which is what you like to call it while he disagrees with it. He doesn't do dates.

Acts of Service is also how he shows his love for you with always trying to do simple chores for you like doing the dishes or doing the laundry. He always tries to do all of it for you so you don't have to be stressed out over it.

He is very eh on physical touch, you'd have initiate the hug or kisses all the time, yet, even then he still hesitates to do it back.

However, he is the type of guy that will kiss your head or forehead when your asleep and squeezes you to death. He is a tad bit touch starve, but just doesn't want to show it.

Go to meal for this man is beans on toast, straight out of can that are cold preferably. He will ask you to make it or atleast try it at some points. This man is British what did you expect? "It's an acquired taste." Is his only response when you ask him why he eats it.

He's not really your boyfriend, he's Queen Elizabeth's.

Genuinely is bad a driving so he often times tends to be a passenger princess. Often times he says he hates it when you put your hand on his thigh, but when you don't do it he is visibly upset by it.

When he does feel more okay to be more open with you and his past, he will talk about little bits and pieces about his nephew such as how little things would remind him of the young boy. There will be a time where he will be watching you and then speak up about how his nephew would've loved you.

Would never EVER harm you in any way, he grew up in an abusive household where he watches his mother get beat by his own father. He wants to be better man this his father, plus, wants to have a better life and you're the only thing close to his view of a better life.

You had suggested getting a cat but he opposed to the idea, yet, when you did get the cat he is taking care of it like if it was a baby.

Snores loud as hell, so get use to it. This once actually caused a bit of a joking argument between the two of you with how you were begging him to go seek out some help, but he argued that he sleeps like an angle. He never sought out any sort of help to your dismayed.

Simon constantly refuses to take pain medication. You honestly thought it was for some edgy reason like he doesn't feel pain, but he would admit to at one point being addicted to them. You were quick to apologize to him about poking fun at it when you didn't know, of course he forgave your 20 different apologies throughout the day. Now you try to support him and how he has gotten over such a tough thing.

Is an okay chef. He knows how to make simple things like grilled cheese, but he doesn't go out of his way to make anything complex than that; however, he would definitely be a master at grilling too the point he can make any dad jealous.

Always comes home with new scars and a little bag full of the bullets that was shot at him, he tells you how he got all if them and goes into heavy detail on how he had to take them out himself. He always loves to see you gross out about he describes digging a knife into his forearm to cut out a big enough hole to get the bullet out.

Always tries to reassure you that he won't die when he's out on the field, he says that it takes a lot to kill him but you're always hesitant on believing him.

Loves to listen to metal and rock with you. He has old dad music taste and to see that you enjoy it aswell make him melt a bit, so expect that some of your quality time spent together listening to it in the car or while you two are making food/doing chores.

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flirtyletters · 1 year

Note

Hello, could you make Kikaku boyfriend headcanons pls

boyfriend headcanons

kikaku hanbee

gender neutral reader

kikaku is very considerate of you, always ending a conversation with "now now there's no need to be afraid of me" while trying to look a little less murderous than usual. he is self aware and knows well that stress can sometimes make him look scary or so the neighbourhood children tell him.

he is a cuddler once he gets comfortable with you. he likes to hold you while sleeping, and mumbles disturbing stuff in his dreams. why does it feel like he is the villain in his nightmares?!

he's good at giving advice. he may not look reliable but anytime you feel lost, he gives you his honest opinion and it sure helps. he is one responsible guy! he also speaks in a mature manner. if you value honesty about everything, kikaku is a gem. his "sense of humour", that is his dark mumbling, can be terrifying but digest it and you find truth in those. no sugarcoating allowed in his household!

he is very straightforward about how serious he is about his work. if his job demands, he will prioritise it. always. he needs you to be fine with it. he lays his cards before beginning the relationship. once he feels that it's getting serious, he doesn't run away, instead sticks around, telling you all about his past and plans for the future. there's no point beating around the bush if it's going to go in flames later. if you are serious about your career, he respects and admires you a lot, often complimenting you when he sees you working hard.

he's a guy who'd like to move in with you if possible. time is already scarce, might as well make the most of the free time that you two have. sharing household chores also greatly reduces the hassle so it's a win win.

he is not exactly romantic. gifts and specially planned dates aren't his forte but in the long run, he is a keeper. he is quite practical, accepting that everyone has flaws, keenly observing you and understanding how you function, protective of you, and ready to stand up for you whenever needed. he introduces you as his partner when you run into someone you know and takes care of you.

he keeps forgetting anniversaries. you'll just have to live with that.

if anybody flirts with you, he shows them the evil eye that screams murder. they run away really fast.

#gender neutral reader #big brother uramichi #life lessons with uramichi oniisan #fluff #x mc #kikaku hanbee #x reader #imagines #x you #this is my limited knowledge on the dude 💀💀

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demi-shoggoth · 1 year

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Portrait of the Artist as a Young Enbie

This is going to be a Very Personal Post. You have been warned.

I have not had an easy life. I went to graduate school, thinking I wanted to be a research scientist. I got suckered by a con-man who could see that I was smart but that I was naïve, and that he could use me. Turn me into an absolute slave. And he tried. And he got really close. But he failed.

One of the reasons he failed was because of the woman in my life at the time. She was a childhood friend, and we played games together for years. We had drifted apart, and then drifted back together, and were so happy with each other. And she helped me realize that that bad scientist wasn’t going to control my life.

But she had had a bad life too. Worse than mine. She was basically Cinderella, forced to act as the sole responsible member of a household by an abusive parent whose parents had abused her. And she, my girlfriend, realized that she liked being in charge. And that I was weak, and that she could take advantage of that.

When things were good with her, they were very very good. But when they were bad, they were Awful. We liked to play games with each other, right? But those games now had a nasty edge to them. She always had to win. Always. And that included at games like “who’s right about what happened six months ago?” “Who does more chores?” “Who gets to make all of the decisions?”

And she had a trump card she could always use. My sexuality.

I’ve always been a weird kid into monsters and magic and stuff, and as my sexuality blossomed, that interest became an erotic one. The first time I got erect, it was to a picture in a Monster Manual. The first time I realized that you didn’t have to stay a boy? Was by accidentally putting on a Girdle of Sex Change in Baldur’s Gate. And on some level, I think that she recognized that I was genderqueer and didn’t know it yet. So that was something she could hold over my head. She controlled me with gaslighting, and she controlled me with bullying, and she controlled me with sexual shame.

But I got out. Thank goddess. It was hard, and it took literally a year of living apart before I realized that I never never never wanted to live together again. But I did it.

And the next year? I openly admitted that I was nonbinary to one of my coworkers. After crying in a staff meeting and she was the only one who noticed or cared.

I was doing better by that point, but I was still sad. I thought that maybe I was a bad teacher who didn’t deserve to have a good job, and I took the first job that was offered to me the next year because it seemed Good Enough.

It wasn’t

The commute was miserable, for one thing. And the pay very low. Low enough that it didn’t cover everything I needed it to. Some weeks it felt like I was pouring my entire paycheck into my gas tank, and had no time for anything but work, drive, sleep, repeat.

And the people there. There were definitely a few good people there? But they were outweighed by the bad. Petty little crooks who made you feel like a wretch when you tried to assert yourself. Teachers who casually made transphobic jokes and thought that gender neutral bathrooms were a stupid idea. I was bullied there. I was bullied by my bosses, by my coworkers, and even by my students.

I turned to alcohol to help me sleep, to help me cope. I always like trying new things, so I experimented with what beers I liked best. And, like any mad scientist, I drunk too deep and started changing myself. In bad ways.

It got so bad that I realized, I want to kill myself.

Not “it might be better if I were dead”. Which I had done before, with the bad boss and the bad girlfriend. But “I could make that happen”

And I realized that that was a bridge too far.

There’s a version of this story that ends with me drinking myself to death. That’s what happened to one of my grandfathers.

But you know what happened to my other grandfather? He got out of a bad marriage, found a good one, and was happy for decades.

So I realized that actively wanting to kill myself was an important decision in the Good End/Bad End version of my life, and I got out of that Bad Place.

It was hard. My medical insurance made it as annoying for me as possible. I had panic attacks about missed appointments and phone trees. But I eventually found someone. A psychiatrist, who was also a weird queer woman, just like I was trying to deny that I was.

She told me, as soon as she walked in the door and looked at my blood work, “so it looks like you’ve been binge drinking”

And I could have turtled up. Gotten defensive and lashed out. But instead, my response was, “really? Tell me more”

And she did. And the prescription she gave me wasn’t for pills, wasn’t for drugs. It was for apple cider vinegar and for Vitamin B-12. “This will clean out your liver,” she said.

And I thought that that was a little woo woo. But I did it anyway. Because I felt like I could trust this woman

The apple cider vinegar was tasty. I always liked sour flavors, and I could experiment with how much vinegar to water I could push myself with before I didn’t like it. And, doing all that kept me from buying and drinking so much beer. Vinegar is much cheaper than beer, which meant I could afford more gasoline, and I was able to keep from going broke while working at a shitty job. And so even though it was very clear that that my bosses were just looking for excuses to fire me, I was a good teacher until the day I walked out the door. And the lesson I tried to teach as many people as possible before I left?

You have choices. Don’t make the easiest ones. Make the right ones.

Here’s how the biochemistry of this all worked. Because I am a scientist, after all, even if I don't have a PhD. The liver processes many things, including signals from the bacterial community of the large intestine, and drugs and toxins. Alcohol is both a drug and a toxin, of course. Having so much beer awash in my guts and awash with my blood was changing the bacteria inside me. Only the gut bacteria who could survive regular doses of poison were hanging on. And to deal with that poison, my liver cells were prioritizing making smooth endoplasmic reticulum instead of any other job. And my DNA was being modified, just a little, with epigenetic markers that helped it make more smooth ER and survive the constant alcohol poisoning.

That’s what fatty liver disease is. There are healthy ways to be fat, and unhealthy ways, and fatty liver disease is one of the unhealthy ones. Fatty liver disease is when liver cells have so much smooth ER that they don’t work right. And if that kills too many of them, it eats holes in your liver. Your liver is pretty durable, but not infinitely so. And your liver falls apart. It’s called cirrhosis.

But by drinking apple cider vinegar instead of beer, I was not only reducing the amount of poison, but also reintroducing critters into my guts. My microbiota was stressed and scared, and had a lower diversity. Diversity is strength, on every scale. By drinking apple cider vinegar, I was bringing in new bacteria to my guts. Fermented foods have living critters in them. And as my guts became less hostile and my liver was better able to do its job, some of those friendly little monsters stuck around. And started pushing out the weedy bacteria to a safer, lower, population level. Turning a vacant lot into a beautiful meadow.

And my liver responded in turn. Making less smooth ER and more enzymes and signals that would help it talk to that meadow, and take care of it. And the Vitamin B-12 helped to lock those changes in place. Vitamin B-12 is what the body uses to make methyl groups, which are used to turn off parts of the DNA that the body doesn’t need right now, in that cell, in that tissue, in that organ.

And I lost weight, and I started sleeping better, and my skin improved. And I didn’t want to kill myself. And I got more comfortable with my sexuality, and my gender, and started telling people I was trans and now just thinking about transitioning. And when I got a bad girlfriend again? Another weird gamer with trauma who wanted to lash out? I made it very clear that she couldn’t manipulate me, and she was in and out of my life in six weeks. Six weird weeks, with some good sex. But I realized that I could do better, both from a romantic and a sexual perspective.

When I went to see that psychiatrist again, she told me that, looking at the latest blood work, I had the liver of a teenager. And then she told me about herself.

She was an immigrant. And queer. And she thought that the United States would be a land of acceptance, and her homeland wasn't. So she left the homophobia there and she found racism in Reagan’s America. And the AIDS pandemic. And she was sad, but she coped. And then helped people survive racism, survive Reagan, survive a pandemic. Helped people with AIDS die better in a loving environment, and help the survivors deal with their trauma.

And now she was happy

Seeing a Cool Weird Science Witch who fought through hard times and survive inspired me. She was a role model, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself.

I nearly killed myself, the easy way or the hard way, but I got out of it with the help of understanding my own biology, my own desires, and my own goals.

I found the love that I needed and deserved.

And I want to share that with you.

#personal post #long post #not putting this behind a read more #deal with it #about the author #suicide tw #gaslighting tw #emotional abuse #biology #biochemistry #queer #lgtbq #trans #💙💙💙#💙💚💜

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bloggingproject · 1 month

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The Gender Wage Gap Op-Ed

When most people think of the more significant, systemic issues that women and femmes face as a result of living in a patriarchal society, the gender wage gap is usually one of the first examples that come to mind. As of 2022, women typically earn about 82 cents to a man's dollar, which is only 17 cents more than the 65 cents recorded in 1982. While this may seem discouraging, it's essential to acknowledge women's significant progress in the workforce. However, a wage gap still exists and highlights numerous issues, not just within our job market but with our entire "hustle" culture, societal norms, and economic system.

The article "The Enduring Grip of the Gender Pay Gap" by Rakesh Kochhar sheds light on the numerous contributing factors. While it is very well known by now that the topic is much more nuanced than companies simply choosing not to pay women as much as men, this article highlights those nuances in a way that does the conversation around the topic a bit more justice than it has been given as of late.

One of the first points Kochhar brings up is the fact that the gender pay gap increases along with age. Younger women (between the ages of 25 and 34) typically earn about 92% as much as men within that same age range, but when following that same group of women from 2010 to 2022, the gap decreases from 92% to 84% for women ages 37 to 46 (Kochhar, 2023). There are several explanations for this, but I want to focus on how having children dramatically impacts a woman's career choices and, thus, her wages.

The conclusion that Kochhar comes to is that the increase in the pay gap correlates with the ages at which women are most likely to start having children and raise kids, and the reasoning for that lies in much larger systemic issues. Starting with the sociological explanation, it's no secret that the expectation for women to be the primary caretakers of children has been destigmatized throughout the past few decades. More people are starting to accept that women can be providers just as much as men and men can be caretakers just as much as women; household chores and childcare are becoming gender-neutral responsibilities rather than a burden that predominantly falls onto women. However, the unfortunate reality of the situation is that women are still more likely to leave the workforce than men after they have children, and the majority of that burden still falls onto their shoulders. In fact, in 2022, it was shown that 70% of mothers in the U.S. were either employed or looking for employment. Compared to women without children, that employment rate shoots up to 84%. It also doesn't help that fathers are more likely to hold employment or be looking for a job than both childless men and mothers. Despite both demographics having children, fathers are typically employed more than mothers, regardless of marriage status. Furthermore, it also doesn't help that there are drastically more single mothers living in the U.S. than single fathers, making the gap appear much more unfair than it already was, considering how more women have to support their families on their own than men do (Korhoen, 2023).

So what is the solution? There are quite a few, and the first is learning how to disassociate specific domestic duties with gender. For as long as humans have existed, the norm has always been that women tend to the children while men work to provide for said children, and it is still a strong cultural norm in America. However, there is a noticeable shift in societal norms towards gender-neutral domestic roles. As a society, the more we progress towards dissociating those roles with specific genders, the closer we will get to a society where women are in more positions to work and earn more.

However, another aspect of the wage gap that needs to be brought up more is how our work culture and current economic system need to accommodate the needs of parents well enough. For years, the federal minimum wage has remained stagnant at $7.25/hour, yet the cost of living in many places across the country only continues to increase. As a result, people have to work more and more to make a living for themselves, let alone to support whole other human beings. With the average 40-hour work week not even being enough to cover living costs for one person, the ultimatum most mothers have to choose is between working insane hours to keep themselves and their family afloat (at the risk of missing their children's essential development years) or work less in order to ensure that their children have a prominent parental figure in their lives. This ultimatum holds much more gravity for unmarried women with children.

The fact that most higher paying or salary jobs offer different types of flexibility than wage jobs also contributes to the gap. Mothers will gravitate towards jobs and occupations that allow them to balance their work/home life, whereas most fathers don't have to carry that same burden. That, coupled with the insanely high childcare costs in America, makes it seem like closing the wage gap is impossible. The work culture in America doesn't accommodate people who have children, and the societal expectations placed on women to be the primary caretakers of said children result in them either working less or taking up lesser-paying jobs as a means of having open availability for their families.

The solutions are definitely going to take a lot of work. It's going to take a lot of systemic deconstructing and rewiring in order to create a system that allows people to have children without staking their careers and livelihoods on that decision. However, two critical solutions stand out: making childcare more accessible for children who don't go to school during the day and raising the federal minimum wage to a wage that's livable for people regardless of their marital and familial status. These are not just suggestions but urgent needs that must be addressed to bridge the gender wage gap.

Works Cited:

Kochher, Rakesh . "The Enduring Grip of the Gender Pay Gap." Pew Research Center, 1 Mar. 2023, www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2023/03/01/the-enduring-grip-of-the-gender-pay-gap/. Accessed 26 Apr. 2024.

Korhonen, Veera. "Number of U.S. Children Living in a Single Parent Family 1970-2023." Statista, 28 Nov. 2023, www.statista.com/statistics/252847/number-of-children-living-with-a-single-mother-or-single-father/#:~:text=Number%20of%20U.S.%20children%20living%20in%20a%20single%20parent%20family%201970%2D2023&text=In%202023%2C%20there%20were%20about,living%20with%20a%20single%20father. Accessed 26 Apr. 2024.

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himedachi · 5 months

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about // renge

Like a lotus blossom in full bloom, beautiful and strong.

BASICS.

Name: Kasuga Renge (春日蓮華) Meaning: Lotus flower of a spring day. Nickname(s): Renge, Ren Age: 19+ Place of Birth: Tokyo, Japan Birth Date: 11 August, 20XX Zodiac: Leo (Western) / Horse (Eastern) Gender: Female Bloodtype: O Ethnicity: Japanese Species: Human-tennyo (celestial maiden) hybrid Occupation: College student, internet personality (Japanese history Youtuber & dancer)

APPEARANCE.

Hair: Brown Eyes: Carmine Skin: Fair-skinned Height: 161 centimeters Weight: 56 kilograms CV: Itou Shizuka (JP) | Jenny Yokobori (EN)

FAMILIAL.

Father: Kasuga Yamato Mother: Sakamoto Yumi (a tennyo in servitude to goddess Benzaiten/Sarasvati, RIP.) Sibling: Kasuga Ayame

PERSONALITY.

Likes: Social media, rom-com movies, Japanese history, cookies n' cream ice cream, dancing Dislikes: Complicated maths, horror movies Alignment: Neutral Good MBTI: ENFP Pronouns: Uchi (うち)/Atashi (あたし) | Anata (あなた)/Kimi (きみ) Positive traits: Passionate, caring, lively, bold, honest. Negative traits: Impulsive, self-sacrificing, emotional, foolhardy, performative. Tropes: Adorkable, D-Cup Distress, Dude Magnet, Go-Getter Girl, Semi-Divine, The Chosen One

STATS & APTITUDE.

Strength: 7/10 Defense: 6/10 Speed: 9/10 Magical Aptitude: 8/10 Divinity: 5/10 Equipment: A hagoromo (celestial robe) that can turn into any kind of existing weapons (except guns), give her an ability to fly & enhance her physical abilities, or disguise itself into any kind of clothing and accessories (usually as an earring). It is a gift given by her matron, goddess Benzaiten/Sarasvati. Abilities:

Enhanced Physical capability (augmented through hagoromo possession)

Spiritual Awareness

Innate Spiritual Defense/Immunity (towards demonic forces)

Innate Divinity

Pseudo-Supernatural Beauty being effortlessly pretty and slay

Flight*

Magical Blessings & Luck Bestowal*

Compelling Voice*

Light & Fire elemental magic -> manifests itself in white flames*

*only with hagoromo in possession

BLURB.

Renge and her younger sister never really remembered who they mother was. Her father only told her that her mother had to leave them to somewhere else, unable to return again. Perhaps it was divorce, perhaps it was because her mom wanted to elope with someone else (in short... affair). She didn't know, or understand the whole circumstances, as her father seemed to be very much closed off about his past. When asked why her father chose not to remarry, he was seem to be distraught—and she thought it was best not to pry further about it.

As she had to grew up without a mother figure, she was the one responsible of taking care of household chores & becoming both maternal & older sister figure to Ayame. Other than that, she had a quite normal yet fulfilling just like every other healthy and well-off young women. She was provided basic education of high quality over Catholic private schools, was able to attend a pretty well-off private college in Tokyo (Waseda University's School of Culture, Media and Society), & even currently has a promising side career as an internet personality. If there's anything less than fulfilling about her life, it's about her heightened spiritual awareness that sometimes gets her into trouble—though when years have gone by, she was pretty much used to it.

One day, the goddess Benzaiten revealed to her in a dream that she was an offspring of a tennyo (celestial maiden) who was in her servitude. However, Benzaiten also revealed that her mother was long deceased & Benzaiten herself decides that she will bestow a fraction of divine powers to her handmaiden's offspring. As such, she was given a celestial object called the hagoromo, a tennyo's robe that signifies their divinity.

VERSES.

Default verse; typical modern day verse set in Tokyo, Japan, untagged & generally flexible to be adjusted. Can also be applied to isekai-esque settings. Touken Ranbu; a saniwa sage chosen by the government of the future to go on a mission in order to prevent historical catastrophes caused by by the enigmatic Time Retrograde Army. Her divine lineage apparently makes her a good candidate as a saniwa sage. This verse's universe depiction is a mix between Katsugeki/Touken Ranbu and Touken Ranbu: Hanamaru, where futuristic magitek technology is commonly used within the citadel's operations & being somewhat action oriented while retaining Hanamaru's lightheartedness. Genshin Impact; a Pyro vision holder from Inazuma, hailing from a working-class family and works as a dancer/entertainer in the capital. A dance battler who wields a catalyst that can provide both short and close range attacks. Fate universe; a young magus who unknowingly possesses a divine lineage, has a powerful set of magical circuits as a result. Doesn't normally go into a grail war, as she is usually content with her life. Unlike most magus, she embraces technology and modern lifestyle. Within the Fate/Grand Order continuity, she can be summoned in-person as an Assassin-class servant who shares a body with the legendary kunoichi Tsunade (of the Jiraiya Gouketsu Monogatari fame) Arknights; a red panda-based Anaty girl who emigrated from Hingashi to Lungmen in order to pursue further education. While uninfected, she decides to cooperate with Rhodes Island as a Geek-type Specialist-class operator to fulfill her internship quota. Twisted Wonderland; after a strange twist that took her awake within a coffin in another world, she accepted the request from the Night Raven college principal Dire Crowley to become that one strange transfer student (& the one and only female student!) in Ramshackle dorm alongside her loyal...creature...companion... Grim. Unlike the vanilla protagonist though, she does not seem to be entirely magicless and is shown to have her own form of magic, manifested in an absurdly high amount of luck. Persona 5; a girl from the neighboring Keiou Girls High School who goes by the codename "Lotus" in the metaverse. Her persona is Oshichi, based on a historical Edo-era arsonist Yaoya Oshichi and she is associated with the Lovers arcana. Honkai Star Rail; TBA. Jujutsu Kaisen; TBA.

#♡ ┆ IN FULL BLOOM. ( renge )

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slasherlouvre · 2 years

Note

hiii i was wondering if you could pretty please write something nsfw for Thomas Hewitt. I was thinking something where the reader focuses on taking care of him because he deserves all of the love and attention in the world (and i’m more of a giver myself tbh) Thank youuu❤️

My first request and it’s for some loving, nsfw/t Thomas content?? 🥺

Know that I am giving you an appreciative smooch on the forehead, anon 🤧. Sorry this took so long to put out! I've been super busy, but I really enjoyed spoiling our selfless Tommy in this 💝!! Wasn’t sure if you wanted an x fem reader, so I kept it gender neutral! I hope this gets to you!

Worthy

Thomas Hewitt x gn! Reader

Warnings: size kink, cockwarming, shower sex, overstimulation, creampie, light angst, some language, living in T*xas

Summary: Sometimes even hefty, 6’5, chainsaw-wielding slashers need to be reminded of their value <3

The sun is setting in Fuller Texas, and ironically, your heart begins to feel brighter now than it had the entire blistering day. There’s a slightly noticeable spring in your step that you idly try to quell as you step outside the Hewitt home to bring in the clean sheets you’d hung on the washing line earlier.

You take a moment to admire the yellow-golds that dance across the dry plain, teasing your vision until they inevitably both darken and start to fade. Days at the Hewitt household could be rough- ever a demanding list of tasks needing to be done as soon as the first rays of sunrise touched down on the earth.

Hoyt is difficult on everyone about 'pulling their weight' around the house, but he's especially exacting when it comes to Thomas. For the most part, you tend to stay out of Hoyt’s way to avoid worrying Thomas about your well-being any further; often keeping your head down when completing chores and keeping your mouth shut when he remarks something callous so as not to ‘provoke him’. On the days you manage to finish your chores early- and Hoyt doesn't have a particularly large stick up his ass, you slip away unnoticed to be with your Tommy.

He doesn’t really like having you come down to him when he’s in the basement- there are plenty of ways you could hurt yourself, and he’s afraid your good-natured impression of him will change if you see him in such a brutal setting, but there are few things he can deny you (especially when you come on to him so sweetly). It's mostly within the privacy of your shared bedroom, long after the sun has set, that you're finally able to put the entire day behind you and spend some quality time with the man you love.

Your nights with Thomas are usually quiet, save for a chorus of crickets outside and the noises that normally come with an old house; all other sounds are normally entirely accounted to the words of affirmation you devote to Thomas and the kisses shared between one another. On some nights, your quality time doesn’t evolve much farther than cuddling each other until you both fall asleep in a matter of minutes- too tired from the day's responsibilities for much else, but more than happy to be in each other’s arms.

Solid calloused hands rouse you from your thoughts as they comfortingly settle at your hips, causing you to smile.

"All finished, handsome?", you knowingly remark.

You can feel Thomas' grip tighten just a fraction as he leans in to nod against your neck, essentially hugging you from behind. You're both aware of your warm dampened skin clinging to each other, a tell-tale sign of a hard day's work, but neither of you feel particularly bothered by it enough to keep away from one another despite the heat.

"We still have some time before dinner...", you whisper while leaning into his chest a bit more now, "we can wash up together.."

--------

You undress allowing your used clothing to haphazardly meet the floor while Tommy gets the water running. There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you as he begins to pull off his apron and set it aside, but you walk over and prevent his hands from working any further.

“Let me?”, you ask kindly.

Thomas stares at you for a moment; a thoughtful, soft-hearted expression behind blue. He nods silently, and your hands gingerly run up his chest to grip his tie and begin undressing him. Thomas is more than capable of undressing himself of course, but you always relish in doting on him- especially when the act requires a special kind of trust on his part to allow himself to be vulnerable for you.

He’s tired even if he won’t admit it. You enjoy feeling his tense muscles begin to relax under your touch as you peel away the layers separating the both of you, kissing his scars as you go.

It's impossible for you not to admire his body; you're especially fond of the way the fat of his stomach and thighs are irresistibly complimented by his obvious strength. Thomas is always careful when topping you, but you make it quite clear that you more than take pleasure in feeling his size and weight overwhelm you.

You leave his mask for last as you tenderly lead him to the tub and straddle his lap once he’s settled. Thomas readjusts slightly to help you get comfortable, resting his large hands on your hips again as though second nature, while you reach up to gently undo the straps of his mask. You set it aside and sigh at his lovely features you don’t get to see very often; you can’t help but take a moment to allow your eyes to roam his face, not wanting to forget even a single detail about him.

“I love you, Thomas Brown Hewitt”, you whisper while pressing featherlight kisses to his visage, paying special attention to the places you know he hates most.

There’s a deep resonating sound that begins in his chest, and travels past his lips at that. Even when the guttural noises he makes to communicate with you never fully develop into words, they always reach your heart.

For the most part, Thomas is a quiet man; often suppressing what’s left of his voice in favor of labored breathing even in your most intimate moments. However, he’d realized rather quickly into your relationship that hearing him vocalize flustered you tremendously; always sending a thrilling sensation through your brain and spine somehow akin to excitement, elation, and pleasure all at once. So as he always does, Thomas indulges you when it has to do with your happiness and sexual gratification.

Unsurprisingly, Thomas’ primary love language is ‘acts of service’. It’s a devotional love; one that people often take for granted because of its consistency and altruistic nature. You could never take it for granted- you’re constantly aware and moved by Thomas' love for you even when his methods can be unconventional; grateful for any capacity of affection he has to offer despite his deep-rooted psychological scars.

And while his intentions are pure, Thomas unfortunately has a warped perception when it comes to justifying his selflessness- he sees himself as unworthy of all things good and caring. It's the reason why he normally resists being on the receiving end of such sentiments and actions; a trait you always find yourself fighting against with even more words of affirmation and displays of affection in hopes he'll one day finally understand how much he means to you.

The lukewarm water agitates in a comfortable way around your bodies as Thomas moves to press himself closer against you, returning your adoration with devout kisses of his own. You moan when he sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to shamelessly keen into him. His breathing hitches when your hips unintentionally roll against his groin, and he gives you an apologetic look when he begins to harden.

“You don’t have to feel bad, sweetheart, I’m yours”, you reassure him kindly, “I don’t think we have much time before the family starts calling us down for dinner, but…”

You lift yourself off of Tommy’s lap slightly in order to reach down and wrap a hand around his now twitching cock and align him with your entrance.

“-I need you just as badly", you whisper, playfully nipping the shell of his ear, “relax, and let me wash you first?"

Thomas is fully hard now, and you can see he’s struggling to keep his heart rate calm as he intensely keeps contact with your eyes; shakily nodding despite already wanting to give in to his increasingly consuming need for you.

You take it slow, returning to kiss his features softly as you begin to lower, teasing just his tip at first. And while you often enjoy flustering your sweet Tommy, you mostly take it slow for your own sake in this case.

Thomas is a very big man; both in height and heft, so it comes as no surprise that he’s also very well-endowed. It had taken quite a lot of reassurance on your part to convince him this wasn’t a bad thing when you’d first reached the point in your relationship; that you very much enjoyed feeling so full with him even when there had initially been a bit of pain adjusting to him.

Thomas grunts deeply, unconsciously squeezing his hands down and around your smaller form in order to steady himself; an action that has you gasping as you're pushed further on his cock.

He lets his head drop against your shoulder and neck when he finally feels you languidly bottom out around him. He's balls deep in you, and you fell so tight and hot that for a moment he almost loses his composure and begins desperately humping up into you.

You can tell Tommy is trying his very best to remain patient for you, but you can’t resist teasingly rolling your hips to get another shaky moan out of him; feigning innocence as you teasingly reach behind him to grab a bar of soap and a wash cloth.

His face is heated, and you’re sure yours is too, but you very much like seeing him that way. It’s when you start to lather soap over his skin and gently begin scrubbing that he begins to stir; wanting to care for you instead before he’d deal with himself on his own, but you insist, kissing his strong jaw.

“You’re always so selfless, Tommy”, you murmur against his neck.

You meet his eyes now with a fond expression, “I want to take care of you too, it’s important to me- you’re important to me”

You can see it in his eyes, the burden he bears from having to be a constant source of strength for everyone around him. It hurts you to see him be so hard on himself all the time, to see him genuinely think he doesn't deserve the same care he constantly provides. You don't want him to feel that way with you, you always want to be the one he can come to for love and comfort.

“Even if it’s just with me, in private moments like this, it’s okay. You deserve to be loved and cared for, Thomas- I'd never see you as less of a man because of your emotional needs and wants"

At first, he’s not sure if it’s the water making your bodies so slick and soft against one another, your heart beating so securely against his, or the words you’re giving him now that he's always wanted to hear, that finally push him over the edge. He decides it must be everything all at once as tears he no longer thought himself capable of producing appear in his weary blue eyes and his posture inevitably weakens.

You're hugging his head against your shoulder in an instant, running your fingers through his unkempt hair as he lets you comfort him. You know this won't entirely fix things- you'll have to help him again when the emotional pressure inevitably builds inside him once more, and becomes too great. Thomas will continue to be strong and selfless to a fault, but you will continue to love him to a fault as well.

Eventually, he settles as you continue to wash his skin, relishing in the way your hands and chest press against him in the process. It's impossible for him to ignore your walls shifting and squeezing around him as you move to reach across his much bigger body, but he tries to focus more on the tenderness of the act in order to last for you.

After you're satisfied with scrubbing away all traces of the day’s blood, sweat, and grime from his skin, you move to his hair; gently massaging soap into his scalp and working your fingers through any knots that formed during the day. Thomas gives you a relaxed groan at this, he adores the feeling of your gentle hands in any setting, but especially running through his scalp.

Looking after his hair is an affectionate act that just comes naturally to you; often idly moving your fingers through it at night with his head on your chest before you sleep, and in between good morning kisses when he wakes up with a bit of bedhead.

Before you came along, Thomas had never payed any special attention to himself for a good reason. In his eyes he was just some defective, disgusting, freak and everyone in town had certainly made sure he was aware of it. So when you first entered his life, he had withdrawn from you; too afraid of you turning out to be just like the rest, and unwilling to blame you for it if you did. It took a very long time for Thomas to get used to your touch, to trust you really meant what you said you felt for him despite what he had heartlessly been made to think of his appearace.

"Okay, handsome, all ready to rinse", you say giving him a peck on his lips.

It's your turn to scrub your skin and scalp, but you do so with less consideration than you had with Thomas, certain you were both pressed for time now. He has half a mind to insist on washing you too, but his cock is aching at this point and there's a powerful urgency in him to cum in you at least once before you have to separate.

You move to lift yourself off of him and get the shower head running, but Thomas’ hands unintentionally fly down on your hips to instinctively keep you seated on him causing you both to groan. He's letting go a second later, red-faced to have reacted so frenzied with you; gently pulling out now while pressing grateful kisses to your neck.

Your head feels light in a very good way as you now stand under the water with Thomas, wanting nothing more than to get the soap off as quickly as possible to give into your burning need for each other. As soon as this is achieved, you're being ardently kissed on the lips again; an action that has you automatically opening your mouth for him and wrapping your legs over his thickset thighs. He has no trouble lifting you up against the shower wall, and there's certainly no risk of slipping in the heat of the moment with how strong he is.

Thomas normally prefers slow, sensual love making, but you've riled him up quite a bit tonight, and there isn’t much time at the moment either. Regardless, he needs to release the rest of his pent up energy, and you're more than willing to help him with that. But even with how desperate he is to be inside you once more, Thomas searches your eyes for consent before going any further, just as he always does.

"I'm yours", you affirm in between heated pants, "I'm yours, and I want you too-”

It's all the confirmation he needs before he has your back arching, marking your neck with the only claim to be had over you while aligning himself with your entrance once more. You almost laugh when you think about how Tommy always reacts to seeing your neck after a rougher night; worry and guilt being his only emotions as he examines your bruised skin with featherlight fingers thinking he hurt you. You constantly reassure him that isn’t the case, but you definitely don’t complain when it has him kissing and coddling you even more for the next few days.

You’re broken out of your thoughts with a gasp when you suddenly feel Thomas sink into you with one vehement stroke; attentively letting you adjust to the sudden stretch while he worships your body under intense hands and lips- eternally thankful for your presence in his life, your choice in him, and your consent to let him cherish you so physically and so intimately despite his blood-stained hands and the repulsive image he has of himself.

You're shamelessly mewling for him to move now, a sound that arouses Thomas even more if possible. You’re unable to stop yourself from fluttering in his hold with the way he overwhelms you with his size alone. Thomas has always had an ability to drive you crazy with just how full he makes you feel. You're not ashamed of showing him how much his heaviness, both inside and around you, stimulates you either. He has a habit of treating you like you'll break; Luda May raised a gentleman after all, and the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you- but you always tell him how much you adore feeling his imposing figure completely engulf you and that certainly makes him feel better about it.

“Tommy, please”, you beg beautifully.

Oh, he could never deny you.

He’s snapping his hips up as far as they’ll go in your current position; steady meaningful thrusts that have you squeezing around him and tears forming at the corners of your eyes with how good he’s making you feel now that he’s giving you both the relief you needed, and igniting an even stronger desire all at once. You can’t help pulling yourself into him even further by wrapping your arms around his neck, your head lolling against his every time he penetrates you.

Thomas moves a large hand to delicately have you face him once more in order to kiss you, his other still firmly against your waist to keep you steady on the wet shower wall as he continues to pound into you. You take the opportunity to run your hands down from around his neck to grope at his lovely chest and stomach, keeping up with the desperate liplock in order to distract him when you delicately run your fingers over his happy trail and cup his balls to give them a gentle squeeze.

Thomas gives you a strangled moan at that, biting down on your shoulder just enough to quiet himself, and not actually hurt you as you feel his hips stutter before beginning to fuck you even more fervently. The pleasure Thomas gives you nearly renders you dumb as you feel it electrify your nerves with every time the tip of his cock kisses as far as your walls will allow.

“Tommy! I-”

He responds with an almost animalistic growl; nodding in understanding as he lets his head fall to your chest with his eyes tightly shut, feeling his own high approach. In an instant your breath is hitching; fingernails and legs gripping Thomas impossibly close as you orgasm with a long, broken whine, and quiver around him with an intensity you never want to end. Thomas is heatedly panting against your skin at the feeling, but his cock continues to hammer into your tight, wet hole. It isn’t until he feels you spasming in his firm hold that he looks up to see your blissed out expression; half-lidded eyes with overstimulated tears at their edges, face hot, and pretty swollen lips openly panting. It’s all it takes for him to fervidly rut into you one final time; cock pressed as deeply as it will go, and your hips being pulled down onto him at the same time before he’s spurting and painting your walls white.

The water continues to run while you take a much needed moment to regulate your labored breathing. In your shared stupor, you had both weakly allowed the wet shower wall to ease you down into a half seated position; Thomas still between your legs, only this time on his knees and with his hands steadying himself above you. You give him a lethargic smile as you affectionately wrap your arms around his neck once again and motion for him to lay on you. It’s impossible for you to move him physically, but he gladly obliges you, only he remains careful about actually resting his full weight on you.

For a moment, it’s just comfortable silence; both of you taking pleasure in one another’s existence. Your hands are running through Thomas’ wet hair again and you can feel the shower’s water rhythmically thrum against his broad back, reverberating under your fingertips. His heart is still beating powerfully against you, and you take a moment to lazily press your lips against his cheek as you feel his warm seed seep out of you despite him still being fully sheathed within you.

“I love you, Tommy”

Thomas leans up to give you a heartfelt expression and a short throaty groan you know to be his way of saying, ‘I love you too’.

You were sure Hoyt would be hollering for the two of you to come down to the dinner table any second now, but with Tommy’s forehead lovingly pressed against yours, and having him so comfortingly in your arms, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

--------

“Dance with me, love?”

There’s a soft melody playing from the living room’s record player when he comes to tell you the rest of the family has gone to sleep for the night. You’re gazing at him so endearingly with your hand outstretched that he would have instantly agreed even if you had asked him to walk on fire. And his heart never fails to swell when he hears you address him with such sweet names he considers so uncharacteristic for his appearance.

Thomas’ steps are clear and comforting against the hardwood floor before he’s securely wrapping his thickset arms around you and tenderly pressing his forehead down against your own once more. The night is cool; allowing for an appreciated breeze to flow through a nearby open window while the two of you peacefully sway at a slow-moving pace with your eyes closed and your hearts full.

“I hope you never doubt how much you mean to me”, you whisper genuinely, “You don’t have have to hurt yourself trying to ‘deserve’ my love for you, Thomas. You’re more than worthy of it just as you are”

His blue eyes look tearful again, but he’s embracing you warmly before you can really be sure.

God, he loves you.

You can’t imagine anything on earth feeling safer, or more soothing than being in Tommy’s arms. And it’s in those same arms that Thomas carries you up the stairs to your shared bedroom once the lovely melody ends.

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aro-thoughts · 3 years

Text

The Traditional Life

There are many things that capitalism teaches us about love from a young age, directly or indirectly, that are just plain wrong. Many people have begun to realise just how wrong they all are, but not a lot have realised it to the full extent. The traditional life differs between cultures but many of the constants are that we are all taught to marry one person of the opposite gender, have children with them, and live with them happily for the rest of our life, while also fulfilling specific roles in the family depending on gender.

Gay and bi people as well as feminists have differed from this norm through their subversion of gender roles, but asexual and especially aromantic and polyamorous people completely break and recreate the system that gay, bi, straight, feminist and sexist people all conform to.

Terminology

Aspec: Being somewhere on the aromantic and/or asexual spectrums

Arospec: Being somewhere on the aromantic spectrum

Acespec: Being somewhere on the asexual spectrum

Aromantic: Experiencing no romantic attraction

Asexual: Experiencing no sexual attraction

Aroace: Being both aromantic and asexual

Alloromantic: Experiencing the normal amount of romantic attraction

Allosexual: Experiencing the normal amount of sexual attraction

Romance/sex favourable: Being open to and enjoying romance/sex

Romance/sex neutral/indifferent: Being indifferent to or having mixed feelings about romance/sex

Romance/sex averse/repulsed: Being repulsed by romance/sex

Polyamoury: The healthy and consensual practise of having more than 1 relationship

Alloaces Vs Alloaros

The first part of the traditional life aspecs have begun to dismantle is the need for sex. We are generally taught to have sex with our 1 romantic partner of the opposite gender to express our love for them and to reproduce, however, it is now more accepted than it used to be to have a romantic relationship with someone without sex, as you can show your love in other ways, and you can adopt or foster children instead of creating them yourself. It is still quite unacceptable to have no children at all though, and these people are often greeted with pity and sympathy or even disgust and confusion.

Unfortunately, the 'love' for asexuals seems to stem from the fact that they still feel romantic attraction, and because of this, alloaros get ignored or demonised, even within the aspec community. Society tells us that alloaros and people similar to them are evil, inhuman, heartless players who don't have emotions, because they don't feel love.

This may be due to capitalism's emphasis on marriage only in order to handle both work and household chores when we must give a lot to get a little. A person who isn't interested in a romantic relationship, whether or not they are also interested in sexual, familial or platonic ones, will likely struggle to balance home and work lives because of the benefits necessities marriage brings that aren't available without it.

Attraction ≠ Action

When we ask allos exactly what romantic and sexual attraction feels like, they tend to describe it as butterflies in your stomach, feeling like everything is right in the world but also feeling stressed about the person's impression of you, wanting to do anything for the person, but not everyone's experience of these attractions is the same, as some people describe it as a sunny day or the smell of cookies baking in the oven...

What I personally believe is the best thing we've ever done is break attraction down to its core essentials, differentiating between attraction and action. This is where favour, indifference and repulsion come into play. Just because someone is aromantic or asexual, doesn't mean they can't still enjoy romance or sex. This is because attraction means a desire to do romantic/sexual/etc things with a specific person and doesn't equate to a desire to do romantic/sexual things in general.

It's like food. Sometimes we crave a particular food, but sometimes we eat just because we want to.

Types of Attraction

Another important idea aspecs have brought to light is the existence of attractions other than romantic and sexual. Allos don't usually differentiate between them because they often feel romantic, sexual and aesthetic all at the same time all towards the same person.

Platonic attraction has been known about for some time now but is still seen as lesser than romantic and sexual, obvious in phrases like 'more than friends' and 'stuck in the friend zone'. Romantic attraction is not more than platonic, it is simply other and should be treated as such. The friend zone isn't an inherently bad place to be in and is mostly a phrase used by men who believe their crushes owe them sex only for being nice to them.

Relationship Anarchy

Aromanticism and polyamoury, although seemingly opposite, have very similar ways of subverting relationships and a person can even be both aromantic and polyamorous at the same time. As I have mentioned previously, capitalism emphasises the importance of marriage as it is a good way of sustaining people while still keeping them trapped, but it may not have always been this way.

It is believed to be that, the reason why we experience menopause at a certain age is so that grandparents can raise the children while the parents go hunting for food. Also, the reason for why our menstrual cycles sync up with the people we spend the most time around is so that we might reproduce at the same time and help raise each other's children. This may suggest that we used to live in closely knit communities where we support each other rather than having 2 parents baring the responsibilities of parenthood, food and defence.

Ableism

The talk around society's need for marriage and children also sparks a conversation about ableism. People who are physically unable to not just reproduce but to work a certain way are left in the dust. The support network that community living gives you is absolutely necessary for disabled people but capitalism doesn't agree that all life is worth living as some lives don't contribute to the economy.

Conclusion

It is extremely difficult to dismantle the amatonormative story capitalism has told us, and for some it may be impossible to live authentically in this capitalist world, but we still have hope for the future, as the aspec community is constantly growing bigger and better than ever with every new person who discovers it. I hope I got my points across well, as I think it's very important to have more posts talking more in depth about amatonormativity.

#my post #aspec #arospec #aromantic #acespec #asexual #amatonormativity #ableism mention tw #disability #is this called intersectionality?#neutralitea #long post #aphobia mention tw #arophobia mention tw #acephobia mention tw #alloarophobia mention tw #explaining the a spectrums #lgbtq #coloured text

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

A Familiar’s Familiar - Guillermo x Reader (Gender Neutral) One-shot

Summary: Guillermo serves Nandor. You serve Guillermo. You are an under-familiar. That means you're responsible for all the household grunt work, specifically: dead body disposal. When a careless mistake results in injury, Guillermo has to pick up your slack and he's not happy about it. The guilt and shame you feel at disappointing your master is intense. But Guillermo knows just will make you feel better: a spanking.

Warnings: Dom/sub, spanking, Mean Guillermo

A/N: Pure fantasy.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to be careful with the lye?!”

Guillermo holds your hands under the faucet as ice-cold water rinses and soothes the angry red burns. His fingers are tight around your forearms, digging angrily into your skin.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whimper, hanging your head in shame. You can feel his disappointed eyes burning holes through the top of your head. What would he see if he could look inside? Would he recognize your pitiful love for him? Would it look anything like the feelings he has for his own master?

“I bet you are,” Guillermo responds, shaking his head. “You’re going to be useless to me for days because of this.”

Your breath catches and tears sting your eyes worse than the damn burns. “No, please, master!” you beg, hating the sound of your own voice, so whiny and cloying. “Please, I can still be useful!”

Guillermo turns off the tap and grabs a towel from the rack, gently wrapping your hands in the fluffy fabric. His touch is kind and soft even as he speaks with steel in his voice. “How, when you’re too stupid to do the simplest chores without nearly crippling yourself? I can’t believe how much time I’ve spent training you and still I have to deal with this shit.”

You sniffle and bite back the words that come automatically to your tongue. Simplest chores? You’ve been dissolving human remains in a solution of lye and water! Your more gruesome familiar duties include grave digging and dismembering corpses! And you work so hard to be good at it. Why? You don’t give a shit about Nandor. It’s all for Guillermo.

You swallow the angry words, and what’s left is the hollow ache of disappointing your master. Tears finally spill over your cheeks and you collapse forward, leaning your head into his soft chest and sobbing. Guillermo wraps his arms around you and rubs a few soothing circles into your back.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he sighs, pulling away after only a few seconds. Shame burns in your throat as you try to follow him, unwilling to let the embrace end so quickly. He retrieves a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet and takes your hands in his, delicately covering your burns. “You think you can manage folding my laundry after this?”

---

It’s freezing outside but Guillermo’s forehead glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. He grunts as he hauls the heavy cadaver over the threshold, tossing it down the steps with impressive strength. You’d be swooning if you weren’t currently being eaten up with the guilt of your beloved master having to do your work for you.

“I’m sorry, master,” you say for the thousandth time as he turns to retrieve the next body from inside the house. You’re holding the door open, your bandaged hands hanging limp and incriminating at your sides.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Guillermo snaps.

His glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose and you yearn to reach out and fix them for him, but that level of presumption is unthinkable at this very moment. It’s not that you don’t share soft moments with your master sometimes. At the end of the night after he’s tucked Nandor into his coffin, when everything is quiet and still, you turn down his bed for him, collecting his dirty laundry as he undresses and changes into his pajamas. You hardly ever speak during those moments but the quiet intimacy between the both of you is enough to fuel your hopeless fantasies. You pull the covers up over him and let the backs of your fingertips graze over his body as you do so. You dream about climbing into that big, soft bed with him, cuddling up and pressing your lips to his…

But Guillermo is not in the mood for soft indulgence. He’s annoyed and exhausted. The heavy burden of his disappointment weighs on you. You’re jumpy and nervous; you feel like at any second you’ll either burst into tears or scream at him to forgive you. Possibly both.

He comes back out with another wrapped bundle, significantly bigger than the last. He pauses in the doorway and glares at you; his cheek is spattered with blood. You might faint with how sinfully attractive he looks while giving you murder eyes.

“You know what?” he says. “I think you did this on purpose. When was the last time we had five bodies in the cell?!”

Nadja and Laszlo had themselves a blood feast last night. You’d spent ages scrubbing the fancy room before starting the grisly job of dismembering and dissolving the first corpse. Your accident had cut things short.

“No, master, I wouldn’t!” you plead. “Please let me help you!”

You bend down to grasp one end of the bundle but Guillermo stops you with a sharp slash of his hand through the air. “What did I tell you? You need to let those heal or you’ll have permanent damage.”

You’re forced to stand by and watch as your master painstakingly saws, hacks and cuts the bodies down to size. His jacket and apron are covered in blood by the time he finishes stuffing all the parts into the large, heavy-duty trash bags that you awkwardly hold open for him. He’s panting with the exertion and the job still isn’t done. Now he needs to carry everything into the basement where the vats of lye solution stand ready to do the job of dissolving the evidence.

He pauses to catch his breath. You catch his eyes and it’s suddenly too much to hold everything inside. A sob wracks your form and you drop your head, hiding your face as tears fall. Guillermo sighs and you imagine him rolling his eyes at you as he gathers the bags and trudges around to the basement entrance.

“You filled the tubs up too high,” he comments. “You need to leave some room at the top otherwise they’ll overflow like earlier, okay?”

He puts his hand up to the outside of one tub, indicating the fill line and you nod your head, eager to appease him even as exhausted, overwhelmed tears sting your cheeks. Guillermo is so strong. He lifts the deadweight of each body part with seeming ease, carefully lowering them into the tubs until each one is filled. When he’s finished he turns back to you and regards your crying, whimpering form for a moment before speaking.

“I’m going to go take a shower. There’s nothing more for you to do. I want you to go to your room and stay there. You’ll just be in the way, otherwise.”

---

The next day is the same, although thankfully Laszlo and Nadja refrain from another blood frenzy. But, again, you’re forced to stand idle as your master toils with the tasks that should be your responsibility. You can practically feel his aggravation with you bubbling beneath the surface of his cold demeanor, and it sends you into an anxious spiral. You live for Guillermo’s praise, for the rare little smiles he gives you when you’ve done something particularly good. For those coveted words as he strokes a hand through your hair. “Good familiar.”

This just feels awful.

You want to be good again but you don’t know how. You can’t make your body heal any faster. You can’t think of a way to make it up to your master. Well...certainly there are ways you’d like to make it up to him, but Guillermo has never indicated that he’d be interested in you in that way. Why would he be interested in you? A worthless, stupid excuse for a familiar who can’t do anything right…

You find yourself standing outside his bedroom door, heart in your throat as you rap your knuckles on the solid wood. His face is a stoic mask when he lets you in. As soon as the door shuts you fall onto your knees at his feet, wrapping your arms around his legs and pressing your face into his thick thighs.

“Please let me be good again, master!” you cry, not even knowing what you mean by the words.

But Guillermo sinks his fingers into your hair and you weep with relief. Guillermo knows what you need, doesn’t he? He’s served his master for so long, he must know how to help you.

“I wondered how long it would take you to finally come to me,” he muses, his fingernails dragging lightly over your scalp. You mewl and nuzzle your face into his thigh. For a fleeting moment you think about shifting over a few inches and pressing your mouth to the crotch of his khaki pants, wantonly rubbing your face against him and begging for the chance to pleasure him. But that would be for you, and that’s not what this is about, is it? He says your name and a shiver runs down your spine. “You won’t feel better until you’re punished.”

The revelation is so simple yet so fucking profound. You can earn back your place as Guillermo’s good familiar. Oh, god, you’ll let him do anything to you if he’ll only scourge the shame from your soul.

“Please punish me, master,” you tilt your head back and look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Guillermo’s lips curve into a smile. It’s not his “good job” smile or his “secret joke” smile and it’s certainly not the smile he reserves for Nandor. This is a smile like a knife’s edge and a sudden qualm echoes through your stomach. You’ve devoted yourself to this man, making it your goal to please him in the pathetic hope that he might simply like you. But you’ve never been at his mercy before.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Your voice quavers.

Rather than answer you, he shows you. He helps you up, grasping your elbow rather than your injured hand, and walks you over to the bed. He sits, regarding you with cold, expressionless eyes and indicating your pants with a nod of his head. “Take those off.”

For a brief infinity you are struck motionless. Like a squirrel who, seeing a car on the road, cannot decide whether to sprint across to the other side or turn back to safety. You don’t have to do this. Guillermo might be mean and exacting, but he wouldn’t force you. Your fingers tremble as they move to the button of your jeans. Popping it open feels like opening Pandora’s box. What are you starting? And is it something you can ever come back from? Would you even want to?

“Good familiar,” he purrs, his voice soft as always. All doubts fly out of your head at those words. You scramble to shimmy the jeans down your legs, discarding them in a crumpled heap on the floor. Guillermo eyes you with a single arched brow and he doesn’t even need to say anything; you pick up the jeans and neatly fold them, setting them down on the bed beside him. His smile waters you, makes you feel stronger even as you’re putting yourself under his control.

He pats his lap and you step closer, stopping right next to him, unsure. It’s obvious what he intends to do but you’re horrifically shy about it. Does he want you to drape yourself over his knee? Or should you sit on his lap to start? What if you look like an idiot--a kid sitting on Santa’s lap? The questions and worries chase each other around in your mind until you’re paralyzed with indecision.

“Hush,” Guillermo says, reading the panic on your face. He puts his hands on your hips, turning you and pressing down on the small of your back until you’re lying across his lap, pinned. You sigh in pure relief, melting against him and shutting your eyes. Guillermo will take care of you. You don’t need to worry about what comes next or how to behave; you don’t even have to worry about displeasing him. Guillermo won’t let you mess up. He’s in charge now. A tiny sob escapes you at the thought.

“Thank you, master!” you cry, rubbing your cheek against the side of his fleshy thigh.

Guillermo’s hand smooths over your backside and goosebumps break out on your flesh. His hand is soft, delicate. He strokes you through your underwear, circling each round cheek before taking hold of the waistband and pulling down to expose you completely. From your position you can’t see his face. Is he looking at you? Inspecting you? Is he pleased with what he sees or is he detached and clinical?

“Don’t thank me yet, my little familiar.” There’s a smirk in his voice and then the first smack lands.

What did you expect? For a man who regularly lures people to their deaths to be gentle? His hand lands on your quivering flesh with brutal force. You hiss, tears springing to your eyes on impact. Before you have a chance to grapple with the pain of the first blow, a second one is falling on your other side. This time you moan and cry out, squirming on his lap.

Guillermo’s quiet voice reaches into you and tugs you back from the pain. “My good familiar,” he says and delivers another bruising smack. “Look how well you’re taking your punishment. I’m so proud of you, chiquis.”

His words unlock something inside of you and all of your anxiety, your shame, your sorrow and your love comes pouring out. You weep; big, wracking sobs shake your shoulders and you dig your fingers into your master’s leg, desperately clinging to him.

You cry out your thanks as his hand continues it’s merciless assault. The violence of that soft, delicate hand is shocking. He hits you over and over again, never landing on the same place twice, but always leaving behind a stinging, burning ache that feels like a brand on your skin. A brand of Guillermo’s dear name. You belong to him. The thought sends a thrill of arousal straight to your groin. He’ll never be yours but you don’t care if he’ll only allow you to be his .

Eventually the pain eclipses everything else, even the sweet surrender of giving in to your master’s justice. Even the revelation of his hard erection thrusting against your belly. The pleasant, fuzzy cloud that’s enveloped your senses begins to thin and you jump and sob with every slap.

“Please, master,” you finally cry, flinching and trying to pull away when you sense his hand raising for another blow. “Please stop.”

Guillermo’s hand comes down one last time, resting gently on your burning, bruised flesh. He brushes his palm over his handiwork and asks, “Do you feel better now, little one?”

It’s like waking up from anesthesia. The pleasant buzz of submission fades from your mind and you feel shaky and vulnerable, but also clean and renewed. “Yes,” you breathe, affection and gratitude filling your voice. “Was I good, master?”

Guillermo replaces your underpants and gently tugs you off his lap, laying you down on the plush fabric of his comforter. “You did so well, chiquis. I’m proud of you.”

You’re in your master’s bed, your head resting on his pillow. You’re shameless, burying your nose into the pillow and inhaling Guillermo’s scent. Your eyelids feel heavy and you really shouldn’t fall asleep here in your master’s space but oh, how you wish your little fantasy could come true.

“Am I a good familiar, master?” you ask. Your voice is tiny and afraid in the soft quiet of Guillermo’s bedroom.

He strokes his hand through your hair, pressing a kiss to your cheek and whispering, “You’re the best familiar.”

You laugh sleepily and scoff, “That’s not true, master. You’re the best familiar.”

Your eyes have somehow drifted closed and the next thing you’re aware of is the mattress dipping behind you as Guillermo climbs under the covers. He manhandles you a bit, until he manages to drag the blankets up over your body.

“Well…” he finally answers, reaching over to click off his bedside lamp. “Then you’re the best familiar’s familiar.”

#Guillermo de la cruz #guillermo de la cruz x reader #guillermo de la cruz fanfic #wwdits #wwdits fanfic #guillermo de la cruz imagine

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redeadepression · 5 years

Note

Hi there :)) can you write some domestic headcanons ab Arthur, John, and maybe Charles? The thought of domestic Arthur and John mmmmmm 👀👀👀

Mhmm yes, yes I can. Thanks for the awesome request!

Arthur Morgan | John Marston | Charles Smith | Domestic Headcanons | Gender-Neutral S/O

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m not sure how chores were divided in gay relationships back in 1800s when toxic-masculinity was running rampant and everyone wanted to be macho af. But I imagine if people were comfortable in their relationship things would fall in to place easily. So keeping in mind this is a set of gender-neutral headcanons, I don’t mean to make John seem chauvinistic. I just think regardless of his partner’s gender he would always try and take the more “traditional” husband role.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur:

Arthur is a firm believer in dividing responsibilities

He doesn’t see why you should have to do all the house chores

Just because he does some of the harder jobs

You work just as hard as him

He lives in the house too

He’s happy to help clean up

He’s happy to cook dinner

But he’s not very good

He will let you do the shitty jobs if you want to

But there is no pressure from him

He is perfectly happy to clean the outhouse

Muck out the barn

He makes sure you always have everything you need

There’s no my money, your money

There’s your shared money

And you can spend in where you like

He hunts to make sure you always have food

Makes sure you have firewood

He likes to surprise you sometimes by doing the laundry

Although he’s not great at it

He’s happy to ride in to town

But you can go if you want

He likes to read or draw at night

While you sit next to him and do your own thing

He enjoys the comfortable silence

But he isn’t opposed to hearing about your day

He likes to run you both a bath

But he doesn’t expect you to join him

He makes sure the bedroom is always a comfortable temperature for you

Even if it’s not right for himself

He knows you love your blankets

So he buys 2 and you hog them both

He isn’t big in to games

But he likes dominoes

Get’s excited if you suggest it

He teaches you to shoot and likes to watch you practise

Arthur wants a dog

Even though you say they’re messy

He takes real good care of it

Sometimes too good

You don’t like that he shares the bed with you both

Or sometimes eat better than you both as well

John:

John is pretty happy to do the “real work” around the house while you do the “house chores”

He likes to do the heavy lifting

The dirty work

The gross things

He’s happy to do all this because he knows when he gets back inside

You’ll have dinner on the table

He’ll have clean pyjamas

The floor will be swept

He doesn’t expect it

But he does his part

So he hopes you do yours

If you told him you had a problem with this arrangement he would be open to change

He’ll hear you out and suggest ways to improve things

Sometimes he does the house chores to surprise you

In the hopes of a little somethin’ somethin’

He’ll sweep

Or attempt to cook

To lighten your workload

Even if it doesn’t end in sex he loves the look on your face when you realise

He’s a good husband

He tries to be considerate of the fact that he doesn’t do the cleaning

Wears the same clothes for several days to keep the washing light

Uses the same coffee cup every morning so you don’t have extra dishes

He makes sure you always have firewood and food

He cares for your horse and makes sure they’re always ready to ride

He’s happy to make a trip to town if you need something

He has no issue cleaning the outhouse

He cooks sometimes

But you beg him not to after you taste his food

He doesn’t really like games

But he’s a huge gossip

So please tell him about your day

He likes to chat at night in the parlour

He whittles or smokes a cigar

While you do your own thing and make conversation

He enjoys just being near you at night

It calms him down after a hard day

He always goes to bed when you do

No reason to stay up if you aren’t with him

He likes to snuggle even when he’s way too hot

John likes cats

But he doesn’t need one

Doesn’t stop him from bringing home that kitten he ‘found’ though

If you wanted a dog he’d go with it

Wouldn’t stop you

But he’s pretty neutral about them

Charles:

Charles is a mix of Arthur and John

He likes to take the more traditional husband role

But that doesn’t mean he won’t help around the house

Sometimes it’s nice to catch you mucking out the barn

He’ll thank you by doing the dishes

He’s happy to do the dirty jobs but he likes the change of pace

There never has to be a huge discussion about what’s to be done and by whom

Everything just seems to get done in your household

It runs very smoothly despite the lack of communication

He prefers to ride in to town

But he’s not opposed to the company

He also really likes to cook

His Mother taught him before she died

He gets excited to share recipes with you

Loves when you hunt to get the food you need

But prefers to do it himself

He makes sure you always have firewood

He actually likes doing that chore as it helps him let off steam

He’ll go to the river with you to help you do the laundry

He takes good care of the horses

He likes to heat you a nice bath after a long day

He knows you like to hog the covers and he doesn’t mind

He likes to get the chores out of the way early in the day

So you can spend the rest of your time doing things together

He teaches you to shoot a bow

Likes to watch you practise

He likes to play games in the parlour at night

Listen to the gramophone and watch you whittle/knit

He’s not a big talker

But you can talk about your day if you want

He doesn’t like pets

They seem unnecessary

But if you want one he’ll get one

He won’t stop you from spoiling it

But he puts his foot down at it sleeping on the bed

#arthur morgan #John Marston #charles smith #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #headcanons #HCs #ask

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kincringeemporium · 7 years

Text

"How Do I Stop Being Kin!?”: A Helpful Guide (Long Post)

so... yup. tumblr ate some of my archive, including one of my most important posts: a list of steps on how to distance yourself from the kin community. as there’s no way (that i know of) to get that post back... here’s this!

how to use the guide: all complaints/problems that kin frequently send when they don’t want to be kin anymore? those are in large bold. each complaint has a list of steps on how to solve it; the steps (my responses) are just in the normal font. don’t see what you need? send an ask saying you want to see it in a part 2!

“I don’t want to be kin with (x) anymore!”

okay! this one centers mostly around keeping lists. and as i said to the most recent anon, the first step toward stopping is wanting to stop.

1. get two separate sheets of paper (or start digital documents you can print later). on one, write “(Your Name) List”. on the other, write “(Kintype Name) List.”

2. fill the YN List first. write down every one of your own traits that you can name. they can relate to appearance, gender, hobbies/interests, mental health, neurodiversity, hopes and aspirations, etc. these do not all have to be good things. try to have a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3 balance of good, bad, and neutral traits. (an example of a bad trait/habit is “nail biting”, because that’s harmful. not “brown hair”. if you don’t like your hair color put “brown hair” down as a neutral trait. it’s not bad, you just want a different color.)

3. fill the KN (kintype name) list next. do not use “i”, “we”, “myself”, in this list becase it’s not about you.

• if it’s a fictional character, write down facts relating to the character’s creation. who’s the author/designer/creator? what year was the source released? what type of media is the source -- a fantasy book, a video game, a movie? emphasize that the character is fictional, not real (add ‘in this universe’ if you believe in the multiverse theory) and cannot be reincarnated.

• if it’s an animal, write down all of its behaviors: does it eat meat? what sounds does it make? is it dangerous or not? now, if you believe in reincarnation, it’s way more plausible that animals can be reincarnated and their next lives can be as humans. emphasize that even if you were the animal in a past life, you are a human now -- it is not healthy to think you literally still are the animal and/or to behave like it.

• if it’s a part of nature, like a star or a tree, write down all the facts about it that you know and emphasize that it is not sentient, it doesn’t have a soul, and it cannot make choices or be reincarnated.

keep the lists with you (as a physical copy/paper).

4. tell yourself that it’s okay to like the character, animal, or thing, it’s okay to feel that it represents part of who you are. it’s okay to feel comforted by it when you’ve had a shitty day or you’re in a bad mood. feeling these things does not automatically make you kin. write these down on a small piece of paper and keep the paper with you.

5. even though it is okay to like the character/animal/thing, slowly start avoiding content that includes it. if you are trying to stop being fictionkin, do not watch the source. stay away from fanfic, pictures, etc, that make you have strong emotions about it.

6. if you ever are feeling guilty about something your kintype did (and this applies mostly to villain kin), you are projecting. whether you’re feeling guilty about your own mistakes without realizing, or you want the chance to fix something/apologize, you are projecting. if you are acting out what you really, really want the villain to do -- ie, you relate to them strongly but they’re not repentant and you want them to be... rp. start a roleplay blog, write a redemption au. look back at your lists again.

• if it’s not a villain, but you’re feeling guilty about something bad your kintype did, still do a bit of rp and keep looking back at those lists!

7. whenever you have “kinfeels” or “kin memories”, look at your YN and KN lists. read them to remind yourself that you are not the same person as the character, not the same being as the animal, and not something inanimate.

8. try new things and (now i’m not saying this to be a bitch) go outside. i mean it. vitamin d is good for you. you don’t have to exercise, but if you are able to, go for it. visit the library, the park, a coffee shop, the mall, anywhere. test out new hobbies, like

• writing fiction (could be about the character/animal/thing, if this is how you maintain a connection with it while not identifying as it)

• traditional drawing

• digital drawing

• sewing, knitting, or crochet

• writing movie critiques/analyses

• jewelry making

• making non-kin-related selfcare

• sports

“I want to get out of the community, but I’m not ready to let go of my kintypes!”

so you’re not ready? okay. this is still your first step. you will fuck yourself over badly if you push yourself to 100% stop being kin before you can function without it. this is true in situations like abusive households or trauma: if you pretend that you’re someone else who’s never had to deal with those things, you are using escapism to let off stress and unwind.

1. change your blog theme. i know it sounds dumb and unrelated. however, having a visual change will make you more inclined to change other things -- and it will start to tell other people in the community that you are able to change.

2. update your about, kin page, and byf. take things like “don’t follow if you don’t see me as (kintype)”, “no doubles”, and kin-related discourse out of those pages. anything that typically appears in kin cringe comps? take it out. (look through my blog for example of typical cringe comp material.)

• don’t say “literally me”, “100% me”, “ID” about the kintypes you list.

• instead of having separate sections for “primary”, “secondary”, “tertiary”, things like that... just say “kintypes” once and list them/insert their pictures.

• do NOT link to others’ blogs saying “this person is my (canonmate name)!” or “i found my (important canonmate)!

• whatever your stance on ace discourse... take that out of your pages. i have no idea why, but the kin community is fucking overrun with people thinking that aces/aros aren’t lgbtq+. removing this discourse from your blog will remove you from another common kin community behavior. (it’s totally okay to post ace/aro positivity, but don’t involve yourself in heavy discourse and don’t put “Aces/aros are/aren’t lgbtq!” on your about/kinpage/byf.)

3. if you list kin friends or kin blogs on one of your pages, consider taking out the links and just describing the friends/blogs. this will distance your blog from the network of kin on here.

4. instead of requesting “kintype selfcare/positivity” from those kin resource blogs:

• reblog aesthetics that remind you of the kintypes, but is not labeled as “(kintype) aesthetic”.

• make some aesthetics yourself based on the kintypes. if you’re tagging, then just use general tags (ie, “kin”, “otherkin”, or “fictionkin”), not specifically the character’s name or the type of animal you identify with.

• write positive affirmations for yourself, such as “i got enough sleep so this will be a better day!” or “i didn’t lie in bed all day so i feel motivated!” or “i ate something healthy instead of junk food!”

• if you’re writing affirmations specifically about a kintype, don’t refer to the kintype using “i” or “we”. instead, write “(character) tries their best to fix wrongdoings, so i will too!” or “(character) makes an effort to overcome anxiety, so i’m going to try harder too!” or “(animal) isn’t inherently bad/gross; it’s trying to survive like me!”

• basically, when writing positivity/affirmations, pick a trait that the kintype has that you want to have too. don’t just say “i have this trait because i am (kintype)!”

• sorry not sorry, but the overwhelming majority of the positivity on those blogs is useless. it might make you feel better for a couple minutes, but it’s superficial. even if the person running the blog genuinely wants people to feel better, they are still operating under the obligation to give positivity.

it is not as genuine as it should be. the person doesn’t know who you are, and they might not know a lot about the kintype. the positivity from those blogs is generic, ie, “even if you’ve done some bad things, you’re not a bad person!” You need specifics, which only you can come up with -- because only you know yourself. when something is vague or general, we think deep down that it’s not true. (btw, that’s the same psychology behind the “sounds fake but okay” meme.)

5. if your mutuals get into kin drama, or if you see kin drama on your dash, stay out of it. it does not matter right now if these people are your best friends in the world, because once the drama dies down, your url is still all over those posts. even if the people who started the drama delete the posts, other people have everything saved. the things you said in anger or anxiety or whatever are still on tumblr. and tumblr has an extremely difficult time recognizing that what someone said three months ago doesn’t define what they say now.

6. unfollow people who have ‘typical cringe comp material’ on their pages and/or people who frequently are involved in drama.

• if they have “ask to unfollow” on their pages, unfollow anyway. if they harass you about it, block them (and maybe report for... violating community guidelines. or harassment). DON’T PUT THIS ON YOUR PAGES. EVER. FOLLOWING YOU IS NOT A CHORE. MAKING PEOPLE ASK PERMISSION TO UNFOLLOW YOU CAN CAUSE THEM HUGE AMOUNTS OF ANXIETY. IT’S SHITTY AND ENTITLED. DON’T DO IT.

7. if you’re going to send hate to antis, i can’t stop you, but for fuck’s sake, do that on anon. (”what!?” you say as you read this post. “but don’t antis think anon hate is cowardly!?”) you just don’t want to be known as someone active enough in the community to send off-anon shit.

8. if i have or another anti/cringe blog has screenshotted your post/page, ask for it to be removed. no promises that other blogs will remove your stuff, but here on kce and over at @only-on-tomblr, we will. having your content up on popular cringe blogs can definitely get you recognized among the community, and you don’t want that.

“I don’t want to rely so hard on being kin -- I want kin to be a casual thing!”

1. first off, follow the “i want to get out of the community” list. you don’t have to stop identifying as kin, you just need to distance yourself from that network of over the top, hardcore kin people.

2. recognize that kin is your coping mechanism. it is okay to use escapism (that’s what kin is tbh) to cope. it is okay to step away from reality, unwind, then go back to reality after a few hours of doing kin stuff/rp.

3. recognize that any coping mechanism is going to be harmful when you take it too far. when it goes too far, it becomes an obsession. (because i am sure someone’s going to say this, i’m not dragging special interests. those are not the same as coping mechanisms gone wrong and this post does not relate to special interests.)

4. guess what? you don’t need just one coping mechanism. and because you’re not completely dropping the kintypes, you need to focus your kin-related energy into a creative outlet. what i mean by that is... write about them. draw pictures of them. do commissions, even for people who have the same kintype. not to mention, if you write about/draw them a lot, you are getting so much better at those skills.

5. optional: it would also help to make lists of your traits and the kintypes’ traits, like in the first section of this post.

6. as with the other sections, do not refer to the kintypes as “myself”/”i”.

that’s about it

Other things you can do

• write a brief analysis of an episode, movie, chapter, etc in which the character/kintype appears. what does the person/being do and why? how do their actions result in the episode/chapter/game/movie ending? how do other characters react to it? and how is this different from what you would do, right now, if you were in the same situation? (obviously no one has to see it, so doesn’t matter if it sucks)

• interact with people who have the same kintype so you can become more comfortable with “doubles” and thus be less intense about being kin

• when you’re watching/reading/playing/listening to new media (’source’), and you begin to have “kinfeels” for someone, step back. put the book down. pause the show or podcast. remind yourself that this is fiction. even if the multiverse does exist, your kintype cannot cross between universes and ‘be’ you. you are most likely projecting onto the character or you are inspired to create a similar character/oc.

• aaand.... here it comes... oh god. oh no. limit your time on tumblr. do not spend all day on this forsaken hellsite.

Things to absolutely NOT do

• post anything like “why did the author put me/kintype in a relationship with a girl!? i’m gay!” all that does is imply that you think you have some kind of ownership over someone else’s character. it makes you look like you want everything to go your way -- and not everything can. i am not saying that to be a jerk.

• ask people to unfollow you. as i said before (now, i don’t have anxiety so this isn’t from firsthand experience), do you have any idea how much anxiety that causes people? and how shitty a thing it is to do?

• harass someone over being a double

• tell them to unfollow/stop interacting because they are a double

• compare being kin to being trans or nonbinary. for fuck’s sake. there’s no such thing as a “kingender”.

- even if your kintype was female in ‘your source’, but wasn’t female in canon... that does not mean you are trans and it does not mean the kintype is trans.

- even if you are trans yourself, it has absolutely nothing to do with you identifying as kin. they are not related. you are a trans person who also happens to be kin.

- things like “canidgender: a gender that feels tough and ready to defend, a gender that makes you feel alert, a gender that....” are not real. gender is not an emotion. besides, these descriptions have nothing to do with gender.

• say that you have dysphoria about your kintype. again, if you have dysphoria, it’s because you are transgender/nonbinary. you do not have “species dysphoria” about your astral ears. just because it’s listed on google with a definition does not mean it’s legit.

• use ‘kin pronouns’ like glitch/glitchs/glitchself. ne/nes/neself. star/stars/starself. it/its. the very concept of kin pronouns suggests that gender is automatically tied to kin. it’s not. and you are not an object.

• send people hate or get into discourse about headcanons involving your kintype

• tag art as “me” or “kin” or “id”. even if the artist says it’s okay, avoiding this is another way to distance yourself from a harmful community. if you need/want to keep a tagging system, just tag it with the character’s name or the type of animal.

• tell someone that they are “your (important canonmate).

• especially do not tell someone that your characters dated and that you must begin a romantic relationship because of that!

• insist that someone just has to remember something that you remember! here’s an appropriate exchange on this.

you: “do you remember when our kintypes had that huge fight, then made up and dated for a few months? we drifted apart and stopped dating.”

them: “no... i recall something different.”

you: “oh. well, that’s okay!”

comments i just know i’m going to get (they’re useless. don’t post them and don’t send them to me)

• you’re policing our identities!

•you can’t dictate how we cope!

• you can’t take away our fun!

• how would you know how this stuff works? you’re not kin!

• ableist!

• go do something productive!

• i don’t care. i’m doing these things anyway!

-k

#long post #very long post #not cringe #kin #otherkin #fictionkin #fickin #kin help #kin stuff #antikin #kincringeemporium #kce #refs #resources #guide #resource #mental health #mental help #coping

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