queerpants
Evil in Nature but Not Edgy (he/it)
- One on One
- Off-site
Howdy!
My name is Edmond/Jeans! I use he/they pronouns
I’ve been roleplaying around ~6 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 21 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 information:
-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'm a full time college studying visualization (character design, storyboard art, environmental design, etc.)
-I have a part-time job as a barista
-I've been running Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns for the last three years and have fallen in love with the fantasy vibes.
-Tetris. I am a maniac for Tetris. If you're on tetr.io we should battle each other.
Writing Style:
-Semi-Lit to Literate (300-700 word average, but if appropriate I can also average from 500-1500 words)
-Daily to Weekly responses depending on circumstances
-Avid OOC chatter (Discord and PM accessible! My Discord is the same as my username here)
-Heavy on plotting!
What I'm Looking For:
-18+
-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
No, This Was a Mistake (MxM/NB, Slow burn, Modern)
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. When Y/C reunites with M/C, he refuses to let M/C slip away that easy. (As per RPNation rules, there will be NO sexually explicit content! Fade to black and all that.)
This is meant to be set somewhere between 1998 and 2007!! I love flip phones!!
I want to play with themes of substance abuse, manipulation, obsession, and overall toxicity. Y/C is obsessed with M/C while M/C just wants to feel good.
John "Chance" Doe
Overview
Chance is a college student studying accounting, heavily considering dropping out. He has a few friends that love him dearly, but he tries his damnedest to isolate himself. He works himself to the bone at a gas station not far from school, and when he isn't working or in classes he is probably rotting in his room.
Basic Information
My favorite themes include war, running away, politics, drama, but let me hear yours too!
My name is Edmond/Jeans! I use he/they pronouns
I’ve been roleplaying around ~6 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 21 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 information:
-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'm a full time college studying visualization (character design, storyboard art, environmental design, etc.)
-I have a part-time job as a barista
-I've been running Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns for the last three years and have fallen in love with the fantasy vibes.
-Tetris. I am a maniac for Tetris. If you're on tetr.io we should battle each other.
Writing Style:
-Semi-Lit to Literate (300-700 word average, but if appropriate I can also average from 500-1500 words)
-Daily to Weekly responses depending on circumstances
-Avid OOC chatter (Discord and PM accessible! My Discord is the same as my username here)
-Heavy on plotting!
What I'm Looking For:
-18+
-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
No, This Was a Mistake (MxM/NB, Slow burn, Modern)
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. When Y/C reunites with M/C, he refuses to let M/C slip away that easy. (As per RPNation rules, there will be NO sexually explicit content! Fade to black and all that.)
This is meant to be set somewhere between 1998 and 2007!! I love flip phones!!
I want to play with themes of substance abuse, manipulation, obsession, and overall toxicity. Y/C is obsessed with M/C while M/C just wants to feel good.
John "Chance" Doe
Overview
Chance is a college student studying accounting, heavily considering dropping out. He has a few friends that love him dearly, but he tries his damnedest to isolate himself. He works himself to the bone at a gas station not far from school, and when he isn't working or in classes he is probably rotting in his room.
Basic Information
- 5'7
- Transguy
- Slim, lean build
- Scar over his right eye
- Aromantic, but hasn't realized that yet
- Queer
- Solitude does not benefit him, in fact, being in community with others is the only way he will survive.
- Getting close to those around him won’t hurt the other people, and it will benefit him and his peers.
- Even if there is something strange and unfixable inside of him, it doesn’t make him evil, and there is growth and love and development regardless
- Reckless x Reserved
- Orange cat x Black Cat
- Autism x ADHD
- Introverted x Extroverted
- Self-Destructive Silly x Self-Destructive Emo
Final Thoughts
If you are interested, comment below or send me a PM! This doesn't have to end in a romance, but if it did that would be cool. I just have the starting idea, so I'm open to any ideas you may have for where we want to take this.My favorite themes include war, running away, politics, drama, but let me hear yours too!
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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