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QueerPants
Meteorite
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2024
ABOUT ME:
Howdy!My name is Edmond/Jeans! I use he/they pronouns
I've been roleplaying around ~7 years and have been using this site a couple years, though I had to make a new account. Nevertheless! I'm back and more ready than ever, looking for some long term writing partners
For context, I am 20 years old, transmasculine, and queer. I like to consider myself pretty literate, but I'm an undergrad in college as well as balancing a part time job and other excursions. My goal is to respond OOC everyday and give regular updates about the story as need, and have legit story replies a couple times a week to daily, depending on a whole slew of factors. I love to plan stories and become friends with my writing partners, so if you want to chat be sure to hit me up! I roleplay original characters pretty exclusively due to the fact that I'm pretty out of the loop on media, but other than that I'm pretty open.
Some personal interests:
-I am an artist and I specialize in character design, portraiture, and painting. If I'm invested enough there's a good chance I will draw our characters.
-I've been running Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns for the last five years and have fallen in love with the fantasy vibes.
-Not really a gamer, but I've been super into Clash of Clans and Minecraft recently
What I'm Looking For:
-Good writing vibes! Provide me with a writing sample if you can. Quality over quantity ALWAYS, but I still need to have something to work with-Friendly OOC chat, and will plot with me. I'd love to make friends, sure, but I am also the type of writer who wants to know the plot, the next two scenes, and where the ending is (the ending thing might not happen immediately, that's fine).
-Will fangirl over our characters and stories with me. Let's get excited! I'm here to have fun, so let's have fun!
-Good grammar
-Let me know any triggers you may have so we can discuss
-A respectful portrayal of any mental illnesses, and maybe stray away from any you don't personally experience or know much about.
-***IF YOU HAVE A PLOT OR IDEA YOU THINK I MIGHT LIKE PLEASE SEND IT MY WAY! I'm in the mood to create some new characters and get invested in something brand new.
With that out of the way!
Plots:
These are pretty loose! Tell me any ideas you have too!
Oh Kiss Me, Son of God (Medieval/Modern Fantasy, MxM/NB) ***CRAVING HEAVY***
Y/C grew up in the fanatical cult of Watercrest, in which everyone follows the goddess of hearth and home, Boldrei. Y/C is used to the rituals, the prayers, the sacrifices, and is even content with the fact they will never be allowed to leave the town under any circumstances. Anything for Boldrei, and the Bishop who she speaks through. A tragedy occurred, nearly a decade ago, when a trio of strangers crossed the magical barriers, massacred several important figures, and kidnapped the young clerical prodigy, Jiang (M/C, see below). After being searched for for years, through means not exactly described (suspicious, considering only few are allowed to travel in and out of the barrier), and deemed dead, he has returned. He has returned saying he is the true son of Boldrei.
Well, Good Luck, Babe (Any setting, FxF/NB, MxM/NB, NBxNB)
Y/C is closeted/on the down low and currently engaged in an arranged marriage they don't want to be in. M/C happens to be at the right spot at the right time, and hits it off with Y/C. It's Y/C's first real queer experience and they aren't sure how to handle it. M/C is absolutely enamored with Y/C and wants to plan another time to get together. (I want sloppy, I want angst, I don't need a happy ending.)
Set in a college town, M/C is dragged with his friends to the local queer club to celebrate the end of the year. Feeling reckless and a little self destructive, M/C
goes home with Y/C for a one night stand. Y/C wakes up, and M/C has been long gone. Without getting any contacts, all Y/C remembers is M/C's name, appearance, and who he was with at the club.
The world is blistered and bruised, apocalyptic and barely holding on. Low on supplies and rations, there's little hope in survival. Work seems endless for mere scraps. For our characters, there is only true comfort found in each other. Still, they find ways to make life bearable, and learn to enjoy the small things, because the most important thing is that they have each other.
(More to come later!)
Pairings:
First of all, I don't do MxF pairings.
Bold is my role
Prodigal Son x Fanatic
Stalker x Stalked
Corruptor x Slow to Trust
Manipulator x Lonely
Barista x Regular
Farmer Recluse x Townsperson
Cheater x Cheater
College Student x College Student
College Student x College Dropout
Werewolf x Non-Werewolf
Member of a Cult x Unindoctrinated
Artist x Muse
Indentured Servant x Master's Kid**
(If you have any ideas, leave a comment or pm me. These are by no means all-encompassing, just ideas off the top of my head)
Settings I adore:
Small, rural, fantasy town. This can range from high fantasy medieval Lord of the Rings style town all the way to modern inspired low fantasy/minor magic and maybe some fantasy races with a mix of technology. When writing something in this sort of vibe, the only thing I haven't found a way to incorporate in satisfying fashion has been present day cell phones.
College towns. Currently, I live in a college town, and I love the vibe of somewhere small and pretty reserved centered around a big college.
Mid-size cities. Small enough that people can become familiar with each other, especially right around where they live and frequent, not too big that it's all tourism and gentrification.
Anything during war! Buildup to a war, during war, or post-war. It's all very interesting to me. However, I'm not into military plots or characters. What I like is political play, protest, riots, and everything outside of the actual battle.
Not Sure About Any of Those? Try,
Characters:
Gone (He/Him) - Avatar the Last Airbender***Gone was an Omashu soldier fighting the Fire Nation in the beginning of the 100 years war. After a nasty battle and his first kill, he ran away from the battlefield. Now, he's in search of the only person he believes has any power to actually fix any of this, the Avatar. He's very much a military boy, in the sense that he's not charismatic, and he's still getting used to the finer things in life, like warm food and private beds. He's not a pacifist, he just doesn't understand why he has to go die at the hands of the fire nation. I'm really interested in some angst with this guy!! Just know, he is set probably around 5 years into the 100 years war. That can shift, and I'd be cool doing something with him while he's still in bootcamp/before he ran away, just let me know what you're thinking.
Roscoe T. Jester (He/It)
Roscoe is a firecracker of a guy. He's constantly getting into mischief no matter how good his intentions are. He is driven by his community. He wants to help those around him and make the world a better place. Fortunately or unfortunately, he believes the best way to go about that is through radical revolutionary action. Oftentimes, he is in a state of "between" houses and jobs. He truly can't stay anywhere for very long, he gets far too restless for his own good. Roscoe has a talent for making accidentally enemies and allies, but for the most part he really just needs someone who can put up with all his shenanigans.
John "Chance" Doe (He/Him)**
Chance is a hopelessly avoidant guy who needs to learn that it's okay to rely on other people. He has a complicated relationship with his own identity and he tends to delve into self destructive tendencies (mainly revolving around getting involved with risky people or situations). He has a few friends (See Danny, Autumn, and Oscar) that care very very deeply for him, and without them he would probably never leave his apartment. He works for a lot of different settings, and some of my favorite stories with him have been outside of a modern world. I promise he's not just "edgy loser who's depressed all the time," I've spent years developing him and he has depth!! (He's tied to the "No, This Was a Mistake" plot)
Oscar Adams (He/Him)
He's protective and kind, malewife vibes, a good cook, and can clean. He hates change, and a lot of things make him super anxious. He doesn't like big groups. He strives to learn how to be a good person, and is in a constant state of deconstructing his childhood beliefs/teachings. He's well meaning, can be a little stupid and even stubborn, but he tries to face criticism genuinely.
Jiang Agosta (He/They)
Jiang is meant for a high fantasy setting that features a pantheon of Gods, wide variety of mythical creatures and magical beasts, and strange working underground cults and societies. He is a human life cleric, in Dungeons and Dragons terms, and he answers to Boldrei, goddess of hearth and community. He's a dedicated healer and a bundle of anxiety. He's the medic who's terrified to fail. (He's tied to the "Oh Kiss Me, Son of God" plot)
Corduroy Howley (He/Him)
He's my silly autistic werewolf who is just like me. Anti-capitalist, anti-establishment, ready to fight a fascist and kiss a man. I want to put him in everything. He deserves someone who will love him even though he's a fighter and a biter.
Last But Not Least
I will leave you with a writing sample. May it sway your decision.The first semester of the school year had been hellish. Chance watched his friends succeed in academics, work, and socially, while he spent the year drowning. Every day felt exactly the same. He slept through too many of his classes, he ignored his assignments, he barely left his bed, and only to take care of his basic necessities or to waste his life at that god forsaken gas station down the hill. Even his shifts felt the same. Rude, impatient customers. Teenagers coming to shove shots of Fireballs down their pants. High college students standing staring at the candy aisle for hours unmoving, making the whole place reek of marijuana. At least some of them would let him hit off their joint. Maybe some shifts weren't so miserable.
He'd been given an opportunity greater than most, like his friend Oscar, who would be in damn near irredeemable debt for the rest of his life, could ever dream for. The government gifted him tens of thousands of dollars a year just to keep a job and go to class. Chance had begged to leave his hometown. He forced his friends to pack up their entire lives and come with him. Yet, internal misery consumed him.
A few years back, he had dreams. Chance was going to come to college and make friends, come into his own, find himself, and figure out how to make a good life for himself. A simple life. One with food and housing security, family meals, and game nights. He was going to be an accountant. He would work. And he would come home. And he would be happy. Was that so much to ask for?
The end of the semester was a repeat of the beginning. Except it was frigid and bleak. Chance hid himself in his room as often as possible, and Danny, his sort of older sister whom he lived with, typically let him. Not out of malice or to enable him, but because she figured he was just in a weird transitional mindset that would go away soon. He would pick himself back up like she had watched him do throughout their childhood. It was impossible to hide all hours of the day; he had to work, or they would be evicted from their apartment. Autumn, Danny's beloved girlfriend of nearly 5 years, would team up with Oscar to harass him while he slaved in his gas station prison. While he scoffed at their presence and ensured them he wasn't allowed to hang out, they were persistent. He would never truly understand why they tried so hard to prove to him that he was wanted. It wasn't true.
The fall semester concluded, and Chance made it out by the skin of his teeth. By that, it means he owed his academic advisor several meetings, and as far as the University was concerned he was on academic probation. However, he didn't know the state of his academic career. The envelopes addressed to him from the school sat unopened on his desk. Each one radiated crippling anxiety.
In the morning, his body did not feel like his own. It was Friday, he didn't have any classes, and he wasn't scheduled for work. He rolled out of bed. The sun passed the highest point on the meridian. If he had a desk job he would be eating some sort of packed lunch at his desk or in a room with a few of his coworkers. Instead, he pours cereal and milk into a bowl, and he shovels it into his maw with a lifeless gaze. The television in the living room droned commercials for some sort of hair dryer. Or maybe a kids' playset. Or a local dog training service. He paid no attention. The motions of his days were meaningless and full of the same. His head throbbed with thoughts of dropping out. His heart panged, knowing he was a failure.
He rinsed his bowl and put it in the dishwasher, barely moving his arms as he did so. He was strictly on autopilot. He went to the bathroom and read the back of a shampoo bottle while he did his business. He got up, washed his hands, went to the living room, and sunk so deep into the couch you couldn't be sure where Chance stopped and cushion began. If you asked him what show he was watching, he wouldn't be able to tell you. It was a marvel how he was simultaneously so burnt out and so bored and so disassociated. He was failure in his own right. He accomplished nothing. He was worth nothing. He only moved to get his Gameboy Color from his room, so he could sink right back into the couch and play Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening. The sun began to sink with him, down towards the horizon. Hours had passed. Danny walked in and threw her keys on the counter. She asked, "How have you been celebrating today?"
"Celebrating what?" He asked back, not looking up from his game.
"The end of an era," She said, her tone dark and dramatic.
He blinked blankly at her, and in turn she raised her eyebrows in waiting.
Autumn bust through the door. She wore comical "2000" glasses and carried bulging shopping bags from various clothing, makeup, and goods stores.
It was New Year's Eve. And they had been to the mall. He glanced at the red clock on the wall. It was nearly nine o'clock. Autumn threw an Aeropostale bag at him from her hoard. "That's what you're gonna wear tonight at the club," She said.
He sat up and held the bag to his chest like a stuffed animal. Autumn wasn't making any sense. Chance looked to Danny for any sort of explanation, but she was laying out the contents of other bags from the mall.
"What the hell do you mean 'at the club'?"
"How long have you had your ass planted in that spot today?" Autumn asked.
"Well," He drawled, "I don't see why that's relevant." He retorted with a scoff, incredulous and called out.
"Well," She said, mimicking his intonation, "I think you could use the opportunity to shake that ass a little instead of sitting on it."
"You can't just wallow all day every day, Chance" Danny added on. "Especially when you haven't done anything to wallow about."
He stared down at the bag in his lap, then hesitantly began to rifle through the contents. Luckily, it wasn't much. There was a white fitted tank top and a time appropriate, overly patterned, dingy green button down.
Oscar arrived to the apartment just in time to head to Queen's Court, the half underground queer bar a town over. When they arrived, it was nearing midnight. They didn't want to get there too early, but it also took Autumn over two hours to get her makeup and outfit just like she wanted, and Oscar had to stop at his dorm to grab a new outfit. The club was alive with music and dance and drunks. Vivid multicolor lights illuminated the dance floor in patches of rainbow. Black-lights made the décor on the wall glow neon. Chance gazed around the room and couldn't believe how much life there was everywhere. Before he could even take it all in, Danny was handing him a shot. He took it in his hand and looked at it and back to her. "What is it?!" He shouted over the music. "Malibu! Take it!" And they did, at the same time they flung their heads back and downed it in one. It bit his tongue and warmed his throat all the way down to his chest. He wasn't used to the sensation of alcohol, but he wanted another.
Soon enough he was lit, dancing along with the music. Swinging his hips around and moving his arms and legs rhythmically along everyone else. They were in a little circle, but Chance kept moving around. He would leave, walk around, and come back. His feet walked him around without his brain having any say in the matter. Chance tiptoed to the edge of the bar, and then he sashayed to a little sitting room in the back corner. A couple of strangers sat on the couch making out and he couldn't help but watch for a moment. Once he realized what he was doing, he stood up and took back towards the dance floor with his friends.
He hung his head on Oscar's shoulder from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Poor Oscar," He purred to his friend, "You always gotta drive us losers around."
Oscar, who was underage and still sober, said, "It's okay, when I can order drinks at the bar, it'll be your turn."
He'd been given an opportunity greater than most, like his friend Oscar, who would be in damn near irredeemable debt for the rest of his life, could ever dream for. The government gifted him tens of thousands of dollars a year just to keep a job and go to class. Chance had begged to leave his hometown. He forced his friends to pack up their entire lives and come with him. Yet, internal misery consumed him.
A few years back, he had dreams. Chance was going to come to college and make friends, come into his own, find himself, and figure out how to make a good life for himself. A simple life. One with food and housing security, family meals, and game nights. He was going to be an accountant. He would work. And he would come home. And he would be happy. Was that so much to ask for?
The end of the semester was a repeat of the beginning. Except it was frigid and bleak. Chance hid himself in his room as often as possible, and Danny, his sort of older sister whom he lived with, typically let him. Not out of malice or to enable him, but because she figured he was just in a weird transitional mindset that would go away soon. He would pick himself back up like she had watched him do throughout their childhood. It was impossible to hide all hours of the day; he had to work, or they would be evicted from their apartment. Autumn, Danny's beloved girlfriend of nearly 5 years, would team up with Oscar to harass him while he slaved in his gas station prison. While he scoffed at their presence and ensured them he wasn't allowed to hang out, they were persistent. He would never truly understand why they tried so hard to prove to him that he was wanted. It wasn't true.
The fall semester concluded, and Chance made it out by the skin of his teeth. By that, it means he owed his academic advisor several meetings, and as far as the University was concerned he was on academic probation. However, he didn't know the state of his academic career. The envelopes addressed to him from the school sat unopened on his desk. Each one radiated crippling anxiety.
In the morning, his body did not feel like his own. It was Friday, he didn't have any classes, and he wasn't scheduled for work. He rolled out of bed. The sun passed the highest point on the meridian. If he had a desk job he would be eating some sort of packed lunch at his desk or in a room with a few of his coworkers. Instead, he pours cereal and milk into a bowl, and he shovels it into his maw with a lifeless gaze. The television in the living room droned commercials for some sort of hair dryer. Or maybe a kids' playset. Or a local dog training service. He paid no attention. The motions of his days were meaningless and full of the same. His head throbbed with thoughts of dropping out. His heart panged, knowing he was a failure.
He rinsed his bowl and put it in the dishwasher, barely moving his arms as he did so. He was strictly on autopilot. He went to the bathroom and read the back of a shampoo bottle while he did his business. He got up, washed his hands, went to the living room, and sunk so deep into the couch you couldn't be sure where Chance stopped and cushion began. If you asked him what show he was watching, he wouldn't be able to tell you. It was a marvel how he was simultaneously so burnt out and so bored and so disassociated. He was failure in his own right. He accomplished nothing. He was worth nothing. He only moved to get his Gameboy Color from his room, so he could sink right back into the couch and play Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening. The sun began to sink with him, down towards the horizon. Hours had passed. Danny walked in and threw her keys on the counter. She asked, "How have you been celebrating today?"
"Celebrating what?" He asked back, not looking up from his game.
"The end of an era," She said, her tone dark and dramatic.
He blinked blankly at her, and in turn she raised her eyebrows in waiting.
Autumn bust through the door. She wore comical "2000" glasses and carried bulging shopping bags from various clothing, makeup, and goods stores.
It was New Year's Eve. And they had been to the mall. He glanced at the red clock on the wall. It was nearly nine o'clock. Autumn threw an Aeropostale bag at him from her hoard. "That's what you're gonna wear tonight at the club," She said.
He sat up and held the bag to his chest like a stuffed animal. Autumn wasn't making any sense. Chance looked to Danny for any sort of explanation, but she was laying out the contents of other bags from the mall.
"What the hell do you mean 'at the club'?"
"How long have you had your ass planted in that spot today?" Autumn asked.
"Well," He drawled, "I don't see why that's relevant." He retorted with a scoff, incredulous and called out.
"Well," She said, mimicking his intonation, "I think you could use the opportunity to shake that ass a little instead of sitting on it."
"You can't just wallow all day every day, Chance" Danny added on. "Especially when you haven't done anything to wallow about."
He stared down at the bag in his lap, then hesitantly began to rifle through the contents. Luckily, it wasn't much. There was a white fitted tank top and a time appropriate, overly patterned, dingy green button down.
Oscar arrived to the apartment just in time to head to Queen's Court, the half underground queer bar a town over. When they arrived, it was nearing midnight. They didn't want to get there too early, but it also took Autumn over two hours to get her makeup and outfit just like she wanted, and Oscar had to stop at his dorm to grab a new outfit. The club was alive with music and dance and drunks. Vivid multicolor lights illuminated the dance floor in patches of rainbow. Black-lights made the décor on the wall glow neon. Chance gazed around the room and couldn't believe how much life there was everywhere. Before he could even take it all in, Danny was handing him a shot. He took it in his hand and looked at it and back to her. "What is it?!" He shouted over the music. "Malibu! Take it!" And they did, at the same time they flung their heads back and downed it in one. It bit his tongue and warmed his throat all the way down to his chest. He wasn't used to the sensation of alcohol, but he wanted another.
Soon enough he was lit, dancing along with the music. Swinging his hips around and moving his arms and legs rhythmically along everyone else. They were in a little circle, but Chance kept moving around. He would leave, walk around, and come back. His feet walked him around without his brain having any say in the matter. Chance tiptoed to the edge of the bar, and then he sashayed to a little sitting room in the back corner. A couple of strangers sat on the couch making out and he couldn't help but watch for a moment. Once he realized what he was doing, he stood up and took back towards the dance floor with his friends.
He hung his head on Oscar's shoulder from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Poor Oscar," He purred to his friend, "You always gotta drive us losers around."
Oscar, who was underage and still sober, said, "It's okay, when I can order drinks at the bar, it'll be your turn."
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