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captainschaos · 2 months

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ran late on this, but my last and biggest writing for @mcyt-aro-week! day 6: coming out / found family & day 7: free day!

just some really fun fluffy writing for the big ol polycule of a household I like to rotate in my head, a bunch of aromantics, queerplatonics, and family <3 really a very self indulgent writing but truly that's gotta be the point of it all yayyy ^_^ (includes joel, lizzie, cleo, bdubs, etho, and tango btw)

[ao3 link] words: 3002

(I'm also including a longer pronoun reference for this one since I use a lot of funky ones. like I said this piece is self indulgent LOL) Lizzie: she/her Bdubs: she/he Tango: he/it Cleo: she/they/rot Etho: he/she Joel: she/he

-/-/-

Lizzie felt quite lucky to have such a splendid garden behind the house. Full of life and fresh fragrances, light and color, it was truly an environment with instantaneous spirit-lifting effects. And even better- she’d built that!

Well, not exactly. She can’t take all the credit.

“What’s all this!” Bdubs exclaimed.

“Hm?” Lizzie peeked around the corner from the garden bed she’d been working in, and spotted Bdubs at the bed over. She was biting his lip, frowning down at the leaves he was inspecting.

Lizzie stood and made her way over to look over Bdubs’ mossy shoulder.

“Just a little dehydrated, isn’t it?” she said.

Bdubs’ frown remained persistent. “I’m not sure.” She looked up at Lizzie with those enormous eyes of his, head tilted just a little bit, questioning. It was very cute. “Isn’t the color a bit off for that?”

Lizzie had to work very hard to steer away from those beautiful brown eyes to look back at the sickly plant. “Hm… you might be right. I still think it could just be thirsty though, and that’s definitely easier to fix! So maybeee we just give it extra water for a few days, and hope it goes away?”

Bdubs immediately burst into his hearty laugh, and Lizzie found herself giggling along with her.

“Oh, yes~” he said in that funny way she did. “If we pretend it’s not bad soil or something then surely it will be so!”

Lizzie laughed, and brushed her knuckles over Bdubs’ cheek before stepping back to the plants she was working at. “Exactly!”

Bdubs’ gaze seemed to linger on Lizzie for a moment, smiling dopily, but she quickly hopped up and headed back toward the house. “Grabbing a watering can it is~!” Lizzie blushed just a bit, but quickly got back to work in the garden bed.

Lizzie liked this way they went about their… crushes, no use beating around the bush. Not having to hide it, but they had both agreed they didn’t feel the need to make it a standard kind of romantic relationship. It was for fun, more than anything else.

There was something very freeing about being the only two alloromantic people in a house of aromanticism, surrounded by webs of queerplatonic and otherwise non-standard relationships, when considering a thing like theirs. Both of them had their marriages, Lizzie in a happily constructed romantic relationship with Joel, and Bdubs the happy queerplatonic partner of Cleo, but they were also both very aware of their feelings for each other. Those feelings didn’t go much deeper than fluffy romance for the two of them, but the underlying friendship and their security in the net of other dedicated relationships around them meant they could feel just fine about that.

Funny thing about aromantic ideas, they’re actually a lot more freeing for everyone.

Bdubs pushed open the back door to the house, stepping into the mudroom behind the kitchen, singing, “I’m home~!!”

“You were in here 15 minutes ago, moss man!” Tango snickered from where he stood by the sink.

“And that’s a long time for people to miss my beautiful face!”

Tango set a sparkling clean bowl on the towel that had been laid on the counter beside the sink. It seemed the phoenix had ended up with the dish duties for the day. “Of course!” He murmured the next part under its breath, with a teasing twinkle in its eye, “would have liked another five minutes of peace and quiet though…”

“HEY!”

Tango burst into laughter, setting down the sponge as he flipped to face Bdubs, leaning back against the counter as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, it’s too easy!”

Bdubs put her hands on her hips, expression split between an offended scowl and a suppressed grin. “What’s easy?! Being- being rude!?”

With a last huff of laughter, Tango took two fresh towels from a drawer, and tossed one to drape over Bdubs’ face in a gentle attack. “Making you mad, mossy. Come help me dry, will ya?”

“Hmph!” Bdubs’ voice remained angry, but his big eyes were smiling when she pulled the towel off his face. “Only because I’m so nice. Unlike some people.”

“Yeah, yeah. Grab that pan.”

The two of them fall into an easy rhythm in moments, only the soft clatter of stacking dishes interrupting the comfortable silence. It’s like that with them, the teasing and ribbing flowing as easily as simple, undemanding company. Partners of the same partners, that’s kind of how it settled. There was something rather reassuring about the metamour relationship for them, where they knew what the other liked because they knew what they liked themself, a kind of mirror of affection. Maybe in a world where they hadn’t found themselves colliding from shared orbits, they would have run into each other on their own and filled the gaps. But probably not. It was too comfortable like this, why would they change anything? Held in proximity by the people around them, and happy to do so.

The drying was done in just a few minutes, and Tango giggling at its own last joke at Bdubs as she stepped back out into the garden, watering can in hand. The phoenix put his hands on its hips, surveying the now clean kitchen. Seemed everything was done here, so now to decide what to do next…

The phoenix jumped and let out a very manly squeak as a loud BANG sounded from upstairs.

“I’m fine!” Cleo’s voice followed.

“You sure?’ Tango shouted up, already hopping up the stairs two at a time.

“Yep, I’m sure! Just don’t come u-”

Whoops. Too late. Tango had already pushed open the door to Cleo’s workshop. In its defense, the zombie ought to have known he’d come running at any scary sound.

There were bronze feathers scattered across the floor, and a life-sized figure in smooth, blank clay laying awkwardly on its side. There was some kind of contraption wrapped around its torso to cling to its back, mangled wiring in two flared shapes. Wings. A few of the bronzed feathers hung from these outstretched tendrils of copper, still swinging from the momentum of the crash, and a few splinters of clay were still spinning where they’d shattered from the elbow that had taken the brunt of the impact when the statue fell.

“Turns out, wings are a real pain to balance!” Cleo said, shooting Tango a flicker of a smile before kneeling to gather the feathers that had come to a stop at rots feet. Tango’s own wings readjust as it kneels to join her.

“Wait, was this-?”

“Yeah, it was for you, silly,” Cleo cut him off with a chuckle. “Or of you. Something like that.”

“Whah! Wh-” Tango made a series of strangled sounds as his hair started to flare up, golden flames flicking to frame his flustered expression.

Cleo laughed even more at that, and began to teasingly shake one feather at it like a disapproving finger. “I do nice things, Tango! Don’t be so surprised.” But their smile betrayed that there was no real hurt.

It wasn’t everyday that the two of them did things like this for each other, but it also wasn’t rare either. Tango and Cleo exchanged the occasional gift, went on the occasional date, all in a platonic sense but certainly with gestures generally associated with romance. Their relationship was more based in much smaller gestures, like huddling up together when a storm had them on edge, or holding hands on the walk to stressful adulting business. They were founded on that kind of comfort, and it occasionally, naturally for them, bloomed into these kinds of things. They’d been jokingly called girlfriends enough times for them to be able to laugh about that kind of thing, so sure! They were “just” friends, but also did dating things. Why not? But it still managed to make Tango’s wings puff up with happy embarrassment about gestures like this.

Cleo particularly liked getting those kinds of reactions from Tango. As she watched the phoenix stumble for a response to rots jabbing, they laid a hand on his shoulder briefly. “I’ll forgive you for the rudeness because you helped clean up though.” They rubbed her thumb over his shoulder quickly before letting up and walking to the desk in one corner of the workshop, where rot very gracefully dumped all the collected feathers. Tango followed and did the same, finally seeming to recompose itself to jab back.

“You’d better! I gotta say, bangin’ around up here with a surprise, not even with the door locked? Rookie mistake on your part.”

“It was meant to be locked!” Cleo exclaimed with a playful pout. “I told Etho to lock it when she left a minute ago.”

Cleo then registered the footsteps that had been passing by a few seconds ago, but were now halted outside the room. A very quiet voice piped up. “I thought I’d locked it.”

Tango exploded with laughter as Cleo banged open the door, laughing too hard to even pretend to frown at Etho. His own eyes were smiling though behind her mask.

“Foiled! You have to help me fix it then, since Tango already took cleanup.”

Etho leaned over to peek into the room, eyeing the contraption on the back of the statue Tango was currently standing back up.

“Sounds fun, actually. You were having trouble with the balancing, yeah?”

“Yeah, extra limbs are always hard. And attaching the feathers is more of a puzzle than an art, really.” Cleo stepped to the side to let Etho into the room, and began to actually assess the damage to the statue. “I’ll need to patch up that elbow too… I’ll need fresh clay.”

“I can grab you some,” Tango offered.

“You’re my hero, that’d be lovely Tango.” The phoenix nodded, and hopped to the door, pausing in the frame before ducking out of sight and down the stairs.

“Coming right up!”

So Cleo was left to look at Etho while he looked at the statue.

“Well?”

“I would have thought that’d do the trick, honestly,” Etho began. “It looks even enough, particularly over the leg positioning.”

Cleo chuckled and stepped to stand beside her, crossing rots arms as rot assessed the structure. “Well, that’s what I’d thought too, but,” they gestured to the bits of clay shattering on the floor, “boom.”

“Yeah… not ideal, huh?”

“Nope!”

“Hm… have you tried anchoring it with some kind of extra plating?”

The two of them were quickly caught up in flowing discussion, as natural as water rolling downhill. Didn’t even have to think about it, they clicked so well, and ideas seemed near-telepathically tossed between them. They were built on understanding, like that. It’s why a partnership worked so well, why they were home to each other. Who cared if Etho was a good kisser or any of that, it was never a thought that crossed Cleo’s mind, or vice versa for the fae to think about the zombie like that. They didn’t have to think much about their relationship at all past the few establishing conversations they’d had about it, it just fell into place. They understood each other, in ways no one else did. If that’s not what “queerplatonic” was for, then what was?

After several minutes of this, Tango returned from digging through closets and storage chests with a package of fresh, soft clay, and Etho took a step back as Cleo reached out for it.

“Thanks, Tango!”

“No problem!” The phoenix glanced between the two of them. “You guys get it figured out?”

“I think so,” Cleo mumbled, already only half-focused on conversing, hands now occupied with smoothing over the clay patch on the statue’s elbow. It made Etho chuckle, noticing the way they stuck rots tongue out between her teeth just the tiniest bit in focus.

“I think rot’s got a handle on it now,” Etho said. “I’ll leave you to it Cleo.” The zombie’s focus broke for just a moment to shoot him a soft smile in silent thanks, before turning back to work. Tango seemed to be settling in to chat idly while she worked, but Etho turned on heel and headed downstairs.

There was a breeze coming in through the open windows near the front of the house, and it drew Etho toward them. She found herself wandering into the living room, where he picked a seat near one of the larger windows, and-

“RAH!”

“Joel!” Etho exclaimed with a laugh as he suddenly found one of the house’s two brown and green folk on top of him. Not soft enough to be Bdubs’ mossy form though, and the shout was definitely Joel’s. If it wasn’t for the sound and feel of her, though, Etho wouldn’t be able to identify him through the pile of person on top of him.

“What Etho, you stuck? Fallen into my trap? Seems like I win, Etho, if you give up that easy!” Joel was managing to poke one finger into Etho’s ribs with each sentence, so Etho started working on detangling her arms to poke back.

“I didn’t tap yet!” After a second the fae managed to grab what seemed to be Joel’s shoulder and tug him to the side, so the smaller figure was tucked somewhat into the spot in between the side of the armchair and Etho’s body. Somewhat. She was definitely still halfway on top of Etho, with one of Etho’s arms pinned behind him, but at least he could see Joel’s overly pleased grin now. “There.”

Joel pushed at Etho, partially readjusting and partially for the continued fight of it. “You’re pinching my leg, Etho.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Joel said with a smirk. Etho flicked her ear.

“Okay, sure! Says the guy that jumped on me.”

But as much as they were poking at each other, verbally and physically, neither of them were really trying to get away from the other. They just needed an excuse, of course. For the closeness, for them to be able to sit like this- and the wonderful thing was, they always found it with each other. The both of them had old problems with putting up walls, with their reputations seeming to push out any room for moments of weakness, but all it takes is one excuse to knock those down. Double Life’s soulmate bond, of course, but past that, little moments like this. For whatever reason, it was able to override any protest their proud minds might make. This was a sparring match, clearly, so they could relax and be fulfilled by the contact and presence of the other. And there was fun in the game, and a kind of admission of love under Joel caring enough to “attack.” At this point, they’d broken the walls down enough they were far more comfortable with the casual and sweet, but there was still such a power to these kinds of interactions. The ability to completely ignore any kinds of social rules, and just lay on top of each other in a chair that really didn’t fit them.

“What are you two doing?” Lizzie piped in with a chuckle as she appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“I’m winning,” Joel said, beaming as she reached back to poke Etho’s ribs another time to demonstrate. “See?”

Lizzie shook her head as the grinned at the sight of them. “You’re going to break that chair.”

“Joel might,” Etho said, which Joel of course repaid with an elbow to the gut. “Ow!”

“He might fall out of it, if nothing else.” Lizzie glanced to give Etho a friendly wink. “You can give him a good shove, I won’t tell.”

“Hey!” Joel shouted as Etho started to slowly push her in a way that would roll him over the chair’s arm and onto the floor if kept up. “You’re my wife, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I mean, I think being your wife is the perfect reason to want to see you pushed onto the floor,” Lizzie said with a last giggle as she turned away from the doorway. “Love you!”

Joel suddenly found himself on the floor. “Love you too.” He pushed himself up to sit criss-cross, and crossed her arms to match as she glared up at Etho. “Can’t believe you’d team up with my wife against me.”

Etho giggled as he peered down over the armrest at Joel, propping his cheek up with one arm against it. “Let’s be honest, I could get anyone in this house to team up to get you.”

Joel huffed, but not quite in an annoyed enough fashion to cover her own giggling. “Yeah, you’re right.”

And she was. Across the web of relationships stretching through this house, there were a million little reasons for anyone else to join in on the fun, to feel comfortable enough to get in on the teasing without worrying about anyone going to far, to have affection worth demonstrating in such a way. Because Joel may have been married to Lizzie, but Lizzie was kissing Bdubs, and Bdubs was linked up to Tango through partnerships with Cleo and Etho, and Joel was tangled back up into it through each unique, inescapable connection. None of them were the same, but they were all built on this household. This house, safe and vibrant and alive as it was, shared by all of them, connected all of them. It was a messy thing, all the complexities and relationships that didn’t fit in boxes or under labels, but it was their family of a strange sort. The people who were havens of safety, the place they’d built to just exist together, comfortable and happy. Far from conventional, always a blur of interwoven interactions, but at the end of the day, dinner was usually at six, and everyone would have a bed to sleep in at the end of the night.

What more could you expect from a home?

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clarablightt · 6 months

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MY QUEERPLATONIC GIRLFRIEND JUST GOT ME A HEATING PAD FOR WHEN IM CRAMPING

shes so sweet and perfect and amazing and thoughtful and she just simply brings me so much immense joy and happiness and i am so grateful for her omg

#forgive this super gushy post #but your local ✨aroace lesbian✨ just loves her girlfriend so much #thank you so much my darling!!!#you’re the absolute best hehe ♡#aromantic #asexual #aroace #lesbian #queerplatonic #qpr #sapphic #sapphic qpr #sapphic aroace #our aroace adventure #♡

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scattered-winter · 1 year

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if I were the 911 writers I'd make aro eddie canon sooooooo fucking quickly. romantic buddie is OUT their nebulous relationship continuing to cross traditional friendship/romance boundaries without ever being explicitly defined as either/or is IN

#winter speaks #911 abc #buddie #qpr buddie #ur local aro coming in hot with the unpopular takes once again #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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comfort-questing · 3 days

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things heard in silence

It was a cold night and a colder morning, gray daylight sparking off the thin frost on the stones of the courtyard. Someone had huddled up by the wall, faded cloak pulled tightly around them, head bowed and red hair tumbled loose to hide their face.

Under cover of the hair, Selick was biting at her knuckles, an old habit from her childhood that returned at the worst possible moments.

He's got to be all right. There just isn't any other way about it.

But if he's going to be all right (said the mean, sneaking voice in the back of her mind) why are you freezing yourself solid outside the infirmary at dawn because you couldn't sleep nor bear to wait any longer?

Because he's my friend, Selick savagely told themself. And friends like to have their friends nearby when things have – not gone so well –

There, now it was starting to get light in the sky above the walltops, and a door slapped open and shut somewhere near the guardhouse. It made a little more sense, now, her being there. Sullenly, gritting her teeth, fighting the tight sick knot of fear inside her, Selick clambered upright and went the seven or eight paces to the infirmary door.

Tala, who had been sitting up in a chair by the door, looked obscurely up at her from the half-finished stocking she was darning. "Selene, isn’t it?"

"Selene Aberan," said Selick. "I – I've come to – to talk with Hal…" She could not stop the slight shaking in her voice. She had to get a grip on herself. In a moment she might cry, and what would that look like? Surreptitiously, she clenched her numb fingers around fistfuls of her cloak.

Tala's eyebrows were a study. Selick suddenly received a horrific vision of herself from the outside, and hated what she saw: some sniveling little girl, shadow-eyed and sleepless, more fit for a sappy romance novel than for a borderlands fort. But if she had had the strength to stand up straight and match the healer’s resolute glance she would have done so.

"Haldyn's awake," said Tala, quietly, "so you can talk, if you like, but don't pester him for answers.“

“He’s awake?” She cringed at the hope in her voice.

“After a fashion, anyway.” Tala’s mouth tightened a little, needle pausing mid-stitch through the faded wool. “It’s been a long night for all of us.”

Finally Selick dared to look about the half-shadowed front room of the infirmary, then skitter towards the quietly-burning woodstove and the bed next to it. The soft tousle of Hal’s brown hair spread out on the pillow, the empty sprawl of one hand just above the quilt’s edge - she paused on the tips of her toes, squinting close, watching for the small lift and fall of his breaths just to assure herself.

Why am I such a twitchy little fool? Selick thought viciously, again. If there were a war on, or if they’d been up north before the Fort was built, this wouldn’t be new to her, be strange. They would have had to get used to this sort of situation… to feeling so everlasting powerless.

"Selick? What're you doing here?" Hal's voice, cracked and tired and quiet, but entirely and unmistakably his.

Every nerve in her body tautened at once, bright and sharp. Trembling, she set her back against the wall and sat down, so she was eye-level with Hal as he lay under the blankets on the bed. All the color was leached out of his face save for the cloudy amber of his eyes, skin gray beneath the summer’s tan, each breath bringing a wince and twitch of pain to his pallid lips.

He looked half a ghostly thing, and altogether weary, in a way she had never seen him weary before; and the despair was sick and bitter in her throat as she swallowed.

"Hey, Hal," she managed to say, pulling her knees in close to her, tucking her hands together so they would not shake. "I wanted to come talk." That sounded odd. "We miss you." That sounded silly. “I was… worried about you.” That - that just sounded obvious, and soppy in addition.

He was shivering under the blankets, despite the layers weighing him down, and it took him a moment to answer. "Did Father tell you – what happened?"

"No… not yet." She’d heard enough, from the guards who’d reached the walltops first; enough, and more than enough to keep her from sleeping. She didn’t know that any more information would have helped. "There was a fire in the stables last night," she said, just to have something to say.

"Why?" Hal blinked, muddled.

"We don't know for sure," Selick had to answer – which was true, but begged the question of why they had said it in the first place. It was only that there were too many things that they was about to say, that lurked around in the corners of what to say, and could never be quite said. Things like I have nothing to do to help you besides bother you and who attacked you yesternight? and don't die, you dolt. "But - all the horses are safe, and a lot of the structure, it was just - the tack room, I think. I don’t know.“

Back to things you don’t know, Selick, she told herself sourly. Would you be done with saying what you don’t know? But somehow the last intolerability of this situation was that she could not half talk suddenly. Not with her friend watching her with that awful, exhausted look to his face.

Long pause. Selick watched Hal out of the corner of her eye, trying to look like she were only watching the floor; she didn't know what to say next. There had got to be a better way to manage this sort of talk. Unfortunately, all the examples she'd heard of ran far too romantic, or laid too much stress on glorious deeds accomplished.

She wasn’t part of a story like that. All she knew was that if Hal were gone, it would be like part of the stars were gone from the sky; if Hal were gone, the color would be gone from the future, like a flag left out in the noon sun. And she could find no words to share that in any way she knew, or any story or ballad she’d heard, so she huddled there in silent frustrated waiting.

Hal solved the problem by speaking next. "Father and I talked. Last night." He coughed then, a painful wet sound, squeezing his eyes shut as the effort wracked him. "I went up to the walltop… because of the note I’d gotten… Daevrel was there. He said – I'd always been protected, that I'd been safe – when others hadn't been. His family's dead, Selick. They died in the plague. All those years ago."

Daevrel. So the guesses were right. Selick gritted her teeth again, the sudden heat of rage surprising her.

Hal's eyes were still shut, the twist in his mouth remaining.

"He said - said that I didn't belong here. He hated me, Selick."

"Blast him.“ Her voice seemed to have come unstuck all of a sudden, shaky as her stuttering breath, throat aching with tears and anger at once. "What does he know? Who cares what some vile traitor like him says, who’d strike down his own lord’s son for - for what - “

"This is going to sound silly," said Hal, almost in a whisper, "but I didn't think – anyone could hate, here." He smiled crookedly, as though laughing at himself. "At least not hate me. Can you – believe that? Before this business, I've have thought – that I could trust them here, that I could trust all of you. Is this – what they all think of me? Spoiled – weak – luckier than I deserved – ?"

Before she thought, she’d flung herself forward, crossing the slight gap of floor between them. "Oh, hush! You numbskull.“

There were flecks of blood on his lips, now, where his teeth had bitten down against pain; she reached out, sleeve tugged up over her hand, to blot them away. More wrong to see, to think of such things, than to touch him then.

"You're right," she said, through clenched teeth. "It does sound silly. Because it is. Because people who lie about everything and leave you secret notes and stab you in the middle of the night are so, so trustworthy in their judgement, you know?“

Hal froze for an instant, as her hand brushed over his face, eyes focusing and unfocusing dimly.

" – And whoever said that it mattered, really? Nobody has everybody be their friend. Maybe you don't either. But – you've got us, Hal. Me and Lirent, and Renian, and Issya, and your parents – and Jossin, too – we will find Jossin, Hal, I promise. And Gerald says you set the smartest rabbit traps in the borderlands, and Kremder thinks you're the best fellow on patrol for getting everyone to listen to you – "

Selick paused, and before they could let themselves be too afraid, she grabbed at Hal’s limp hand on the pillow - an odd sort of thing a for second-class scout to do for her commander, no doubt, but his chilly fingers wove into hers as if he were the one lost and drowning, and her hand reaching out in rescue.

"So stop thinking about people hating you. Start thinking about us. We're your friends, so what we say counts more than what he says. You’re ours - you will always be ours - and mine - and I will - “

Her eyes were swimming with tears now, and it was too late to stop them; but somehow it didn’t seem to matter anymore, now. And half a breath away from her Hal was smiling, just a little bit, which mattered the most of all.

“ - and I will never let anyone hurt you like this again,” they said, thickly - “so next time you do something utterly stupid like you did last night, come get me first.”

She dashed her free hand across her eyes, savagely, and tried to smile, though it didn’t feel very convincing. But Hal’s crooked smile had broadened anyway, almost enough to banish the pain-lines from his face, and he squeezed her hand in his.

"All right, Selick, I promise,“ he said. ”I'm sorry – for glooming you. Please tell - the others hello from me?"

In that moment Selick realized they weren't afraid at all, not anymore, not in any way. Because somehow she had found the words she needed, or something close enough to them anyway. And Mercy willing, there would be time to find all the words they would ever wish for, whether they were new words or the same as the old.

Perhaps it was the light shaky pressure of Hal’s hand in theirs that steadied them, after everything, and made it so simple to straighten the pillow behind his head as he coughed again, and brush back the tousled curls from his sweaty forehead.

"Sure, Hal, I’ll tell them." Her voice was steady now. Rooted and quiet. She got up to her feet, then, not trembling, not cold anymore. "Get some rest, all right? And Lirent will probably be by later, too, once they let him out from cleaning up the tack room."

They even managed to smile at Tala, as the healer came to take their place at Hal’s bedside, with fresh bandages and a strong-smelling cup of something. Tala smiled back, with a knowing sort of nod. “We’ll be seeing you, Selene?”

“Yes - I’ll be back,” Selick said, and opened the door, to step out into the sudden blinding brilliance of the morning beyond.

#whump #hurt comfort #fantasy whump #medieval whump #GOOD GRIEF it was such a trip to return to this scene #local teen me had the canonically gender-ambiguous character wildly struggling how to express affection w/o romantic/sexual implications #they/she Selick qpr with a side of fealty is now official 10 years later #it's been a long way since then and here's hoping I've learned at least a few things about the nature of things and me's #and Selick gets to benefit

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jiabeewrites · 1 year

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does anybody fucking know how to deal with a crush but that crush is halfway between besties and borderline romance and oh btw that person is VERY NICE and you think they've been sending you signs but like you have literally no experience with relationships because you're FUCKING AROACE YOU CHILD but you're also lesbian/likes anybody who isnt men and that person...you trust them with your life but that person is pansexual and therefore probably won't reciprocate your feelings so you don't wanna say anything also because you don't want a relationship right now but this you and this person have made plans to start a tattoo shop together and live together and holy FUCK they make you so happy and when they hug you you just feel very safe and happy and just...UGH does anybody know how to deal with a crush

#just your local aroace having a mental breakdown #about a VERY pretty enby #and im 100% sure its not romance #but...#there's just something about them #i trust them with my life #wtf do i do #PLEASE SEND HELP #i kinda want a qpr with them #but not now #i dont want a relationship rn #but #UGH #aroace #lesbian #lesbian aroace

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givehimthemedicine · 1 year

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off your post about el's cuddling can you write abot how you do see adult elmax would handle the sexual part of a relationship when max is allo and el is asexual. i have faith you could explore that tactfully.

thanks for the vote of confidence. I've actually kinda been chewing on a future-set ficlet broaching this, but I just don't know if we wanna go there at all (I'm not looking to write anything spicy even if they're adults, but just exploring a potential dynamic). gotta give it some thought

#givehimthemedicineasks #I actually don't even know what the irl relationship solution is to this combo tbh #and i don't really know if I imagine my hc of elmax going in that direction #they're a qpr to me although I guess what exactly that entails can vary #especially since I also hc max as maybe not full on ace but. something. gray. idk #but what stops me from having infinite variations of the same hc #Another Character Asexual‚ Claims Local Asexual Who Only Writes Asexuals #ps I know you weren't asking for smut anon #my disclaimer is for the benefit of past anon(s?) who've sent me kinda Yikes stuff

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yewphoric · 1 year

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conversations by firelight

aka, Jenais realizing he actually cares about Ragnar's well-being

(its hard to tell, because most often his expression is >:(, but trust me he looks soft)

#local necromancer confronts the fact he wants companionship?? more at 8 #also these guys are in a QPR!!#not yet in this pic but please dont imply anything romantic!!#they care greatly abt each other but its not romance hehe #when you set out to use and manipulate the dragonborn but end up with the most genuine wholesome and strong companionship #woops. happens to the best of us #yews art #yews ocs #jenais oesis #ragnar (ldb)#(hes barely there but its fine fhbfjfd)#skyrim #tes #tes ocs #skyrim ocs #queerplatonic

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cryptiique · 2 years

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I love me some friends to lovers sooo much. but I don't love the language of 'we're just friends' or 'i want to be more than friends', like friends are a step below lovers. whereas they're both equal states of love, just different flavors. so keeping both sides respected, and queer platonic relationships are the fuckin beeest

#* ｡✧ ━ ⦅ out of character. ⦆#brought to you by your local ace lesbian who has had mostly qprs #it's great #just a different flavor #i hate seeing the friends to lovers memes like that

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dude-iloveu · 10 months

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the only old lady malay name that comes to mind is rokiah. and i feel like, yeahh makcik rokiah, goes well. makcik rokiah buat cosplay. dunno for her kid tho. need a kinda gender neutral one

#agh. i'm still torn on making her child a male coser #maybe there can be a third one #who is a lady that works as photgrapher for the coser #OOOO #my eyes are going large like a cat with zoomies #bakal suamiku cosplayer HAHAHAAHAHH #i hope this would get received well by the local folks on ig. i really do need an original story idea for the peeps there #don't think this will be that much of a hit with people here or anywhere so :'D #honestly i just need to get good with explaining and sharing ideas #what if qpr local omg i will die hahahahahaah what is this self indulgent bs #sorry is this comphet ????😔😔😔😔😔😔🤌#everyday i shove myself into a box telling myself i should stop from trying to get into groups i dont belong to #and just putting that doubt on me even tho no one is telling to that to my face #ignore me its 2am these words are unreliable but i wanted to write them down anyway #i do hope whenever i get to create that makeshift little local family it takes off on ig and i can leave tumblr for a while lmao

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perpetualnovelboyfriend · 11 months

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like okay I hate antagonistic authors

but man I hope someone dies mad about these two not getting together romantically

#in any other book 'I cant see [you] living in [my house] either' should be some kind of foreshadowing #sometimes a relationship is a hopelessly autistic lady knight and the local homeless handy man incurring the one bed trope but not like tha #its MY qpr agenda and I get to decide everything shut up

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clownhara · 17 days

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is there like a jester ocs 101 i do wanna learn about them

Putting these under a read more because this might get long

My family :)

Edward Roberts-Rosales: I made too many jokes about this bastard being my dad and now he's my dad. High key wants to fuck plants. Evades taxes like no ones business. Kind of a shit guy but it's funny to watch him mess up everything so we keep him alive for that alone Max Rosales: My better dad. Can really do so fucking much better than Edward but he settled </3. Is a plant man. Likes baking. Is the dad that actually loves me. Heron Rosales: I don't do to much with her but I'm trying to do more. Max's trans sister. Wants Edward dead and honestly, we don't blame her. Average chronic pain haver tbh please get her some Ibuprofen. Boaty McBoatface: My brother who is a boat. Edwards favorite son, despite being terrified of being on boats after he was the sole survivor of a ship wreck. I fuckinh hate this thing

Project Moon adjacent ones

Despise Domek (Or just Des): Local Enkphalin hooked rat. Goes by it/they but people close to it can call them she/her. There are two remaining people who can call them she/her. Steals things from people it likes to keep a piece of them, so don't invite them to your house. Things WILL go missing. Says the phrase "Well it didn't kill me so I'm fine" way to god damn often. Ambrose Domek: Not actually related to Des at all his parents just stole Des's parents last name. We heart religious fanaticism to the point of self harm!!!!!! Has two boyfriends and has convinced himself neither of them like him. Him and Des are besties :) Keith: Real Jester-heads remember Keith. I made this bastard before Ruina came out and he keeps fucking staying relevant to whatever game is out. How does he do it. Lobcorp him is Geb and Myo's adopted son, a Rabbit, and had a complex where he's gotta prove himself 24/7 and ends up getting his leg ripped off. Ruina him is trying to find Gebura again after the whole Library situation happened, and is wildly distraught after learning Myo's whole deal. Limbus Keith is content, much older, runs a weapons shop, and is gay married to Heathcliff. Jesus Christ I made him before the new translation of Lopcorp happened I think HOW LONG HAS HE EXISTED WHAT THE FUCK

Damien Domek: Also not related to Des, just took it's last name because he liked it. They are qprs though. Also is broke as shit but mostly stays out of the Rat lifestyle by just old fashioned robbing people. Loves lying to people for fun and profit, but he is honestly a pretty nice guy. Minus the lying

Randos

Arlo: Disgusting rancid cyborg scientist who needs to bathe and touch grass. I adore him though. Ellie: Arlos little sibling. She/they user. Kills people for money and feeds the bodies to the eldritch horror that follows her around Hector: The eldritch horror that follows Ellie around. usually just looks like a dilf tbh its easier for Ellie to explain. Can't actually speak so he usually just talks telepathically while making a bunch of hums, chirps, and clicks to mimic speaking.

Oleander: Local unethical scientist that unethicaled a bit too hard when trying to revive his even worse older brother and turned off most of his emotions manually to avoid coping with the mental toil. Sad! Many such cases. Can't feel any emotions other then joy now. Kinda sucks but he certainly doesn't seem to upset about it :)

Simon: Oleadners brother. Kinda. Moreso a robot piloting Oleanders brothers body. Fucking hates Oleander but after Oleander lobotomized himself Simon begrudgingly takes care of him now. Despite his complicated feelings, he's wildly overprotective.

Cybel: A robot Oleander made! They are meant to gather as much information as they possibly can in case some horrible event happens that kills off humanity. is quite literally indestructible. Likes ice cream.

Octavius: I made this guy to be a danganrompa villain back in high school and I succeeded too well. I fucking hate this fake ass bitch

Tabb: This fucking guy. Trapped in a time loop but he doesn't know and its technically not a time loop. Met his (now) husband ages ago but died shortly after meeting him, so he revived Tabb, then the two got married, then Tabb died again so Halt (the husband) revived him again but he lost his memories then halt died and Tabb revived him the Tabb died again so Halt revived him but he lost all his memories so they dated again and got remarried then Tabb died again and you get the idea. Very nice guy, a bit anxious, perfectly normal minus the dying thing. If it wasn't for him losing all his memories and Halt tampering with shit so he was in love with him i uh. Don't think he'd actually like Halt all that much tbh

Halt: Just wants to be happy with his husband :(. Sad he unethicaled all over that science. Hey are you noticinga theme here. Also he's a cat boy but thats really not relevant to his depression issues

Urge: Halts kinda milfy twin sister. Really sick of all of this loop bullshit because she gets to watch her bestie Tabb die repeatedly, so she packed up her bags and left. Can't be in the same room as Halt without them getting into a fist fight. Do you see the themeing with their namesan d their ideals. Halt is kinda halted in place but Urge keeps pushing forward because she has the urgeto move on. Do you see it. It is almost 1 am

Russel: A kid that got roped into this whole mess because he walked in on a Tabb revival tube without permission. Sticks around Urge most of the time. Had a bad homelife to put it mildly, so Urge took him in.

Theres way more of these bastards but these are the most relevant ones. I am going to bed now. Goobnight

#asks #scp-168 #ocs #my ocs #I'll probs pop this in the queue like 90 times so it circulates for a while.

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