#qpr gender

[catgendermikus]

❣︎ aroweirdo / queerplatonicweirdo ❣︎

[ aro - weirdo ] / [ queer - platonic - weirdo ]

genders under the genderweirdo system coined by @donniesbf-terms !! 4 when ur gender is connected 2 being aromantic / queerplatonic && a weirdo, an aromantic weirdo / queerplatonic weirdo !! may b connected 2 being seen as / feeling “weird” due 2 being aromantic / in a queerplatonic relationship, being weird && being aromantic / queerplatonic, embracing ur weirdness as connected 2 ur aromanticism / queerplatonic relationship(s), etc !!

ఌ — wisdom’s daughter did not find this gender in previous coining posts, but please let sol know if it already exists !! — ఌ

[PT: aroweirdo / queerplatonicweirdo [aro-weirdo] / [queer-platonic-weirdo]: genders under the genderweirdo system coined by @ donniesbf-terms !! for when your gender is connected to being aromantic/queerplatonic and a weirdo, an aromantic weirdo/queerplatonic weirdo!! may be connected to being seen as/feeling “weird” due to being aromantic/in a queerplatonic relationship, being weird and being aromantic/queerplatonic. embracing your weirdness as connected to your aromanticism/queerplatonic relationship(s), etc!! wisdom’s daughter did not find this gender in previous coining posts, but please let sol know if it already exists!! END PT]

[notherpuppet]

Is there any particular reason you use ship names with qpr relationships? (Like using a / or radioapple for examples) It makes it a little hard to tell what's meant to be romantic and platonic in fandoms sometimes, no shame for using them obvi and not pushing you to change your tagging or anything. Just wondering

Well the QPR I'm depicting is pretty affectionate (I mean mostly just xo's, not xxx hahaha) so even if it's NOT romantic, it probably may still be perceived as a ship between characters. I'm purposefully displaying a bond that is affectionate and loving, albeit platonic. So I still consider it a ship and that's why I tag it as such.

So with QPRs like radioapple, radiorose, almimzy, radiostatic, etc. etc. (alastor ships pretty much lol) I just figure that if people don't like to see characters in this ship, they're able to just block the tag. There are ships that I don't particularly like, but I just scroll away. It doesn't really bother me, but yknow; we get to cater a lot of our own social media experiences. There's the block and mute options for a reason.

As for ascertaining whether a ship art is QPR or not, I think someone can inquire or just do a little more legwork to figure that out themselves tbh. Some things may not have been written to be QPR, but may fit inside that idea for someone engaging in the artwork/fanfic. Some things may be intentionally written to be QPR and not coincide with a fan's taste or personal ideas. For example, someone may depict a QPR that includes sex. These are valid QPR experiences. On the flip side, someone may not be depicting a QPR and they include nothing explicit or affectionate, but it still fits into someone else's idea of what a QPR can look like. It's not black and white. There is nuance.

We should individually do the work of assessing if a fanart is something that we appreciate or not. AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL AN ARTIST IF YOU DON'T LIKE HOW THEY DO SOMETHING BTW. Just saying. Pretty RUDE ACTUALLY so yknow I would advocate for NOT doing that. I also don't think we need to put it on the artists to define exactly what they're depicting, since it can be a pretty difficult relationship to pin down. Affection and friendship can look very different for lots of people. And I don't think it's necessary for an artist or writer to spell out their intentions for us. Art is a means to express oneself and to have fun. If we choose to engage in an artwork, then we can also interpret it and come to conclusions of our own.

TLDR; I'm gonna go ahead and tag QPRs as their fandom ship names and I think it's up to us as users to cater social media to our tastes individually.

[velvet-games]

[secret-sageent]

Rattling off my sexuality and gender when asked like it’s my freaking coffee order

[ily-tomura]

Night Life

Autistic!Tomura Shigaraki, GN!Reader, QPR

Tomura doesn’t really work out traditionally, but he does love to go out walking. He prefers to go for early morning walks and night walks more than mid-day. He introduced the idea of you joining him pretty casually, but you can tell that it would mean a lot for you to join him.

He has to bundle up quite a bit so that he doesn’t get cold. Wind tends to go right through Tomura, so he layers light jackets and windbreakers.

Tomura loves listening to the sounds of the area at night. Depending on the path, he always seems to be on the look out for either animals or the occasional car. He doesn’t spend much time outside, so you’re surprised when he tells you to hush because he thinks he hears and owl. You spend a little time standing quietly with him, looking off into the tree line. Neither of you see it, but when Tomura hears the owl’s distinctive call, he looks to you excited.

He’ll sometimes stop and look up at the sky. The area has quite a bit of light pollution, but a few stars can be seen still. He talks to you about the idea of driving out into the countryside somewhere the light pollution is less bad so that he can see more of the stars. It’s a cute idea and one you want to help him fulfill.

While you’re walking together, you go back and forth talking about things you’ve been reading and watching online. It’s a nice atmosphere. There’s no pressure to talk or be performative. You’re just enjoying each other’s company.

Tomura’s favorite time to go walking is after it’s rained. It’s usually a little humid, but not so much that it makes his skin itch. He finds the reflection of street lights in puddles to be something beautiful and worth stopping for.

Sometimes, if it’s just a bit too cold, he’ll huddle next to you as you walk. If you point it out, he scoots away until he thinks your not paying attention and he’ll scoot back in. You’ve learned to just enjoy it quietly.

[qpr-cupid]

You Are My Squishies Pt. 1

A Two Shot Based on one of my Imagines:

((part two here))

You don't know what to make of him at first and the feeling was mutual but when you get comfortable enough to be in each other's presence he pop's the question: 'Why haven't you confessed to Wade yet?' After your initial shock you take the time to explain your identity and feelings and he just listens: no arguments, no opinions, just an open ear, as you talked about this vulnerable part of yourself. After you're done, there was a beat of silence before he whispered a respectful "Okay". It was then you felt a shift in your feelings. You still had a squash on Wade, yes, but the focus had changed... ...to Logan. After you had a small crisis about being polyaffectionate, you begin noticing things about him: his jawline, his muscles, his eyes, his reflex of pushing people away, how much he drank... Your nurturing nature kicked in. You'd make him cups of coffee in the morning, give him some extra bacon with his breakfast, put a blanket on him when he passed out on the couch. You even hid his alcohol from him (that was the only thing that ticked him off, but you knew he'd never hurt you on purpose, just glare heatedly and grouch more than usual). The treatment was foreign to Logan; years of self loathing and hatred convinced him that he was a worthless, murderous piece of shit that didn't deserve basic human decency let alone kindness. Admittedly, major progress was made on that front with his adventure with Wade but you were just so...bright and genuine. He found himself thinking about what you had told him, about aromanticism, about how you viewed relationships, about qprs. Most of his life, the only labels he had just been romance, friendship, and sex, but when he recalled the majority of friendships and even lovers, he found he related to what you had described. The type of relationship he wanted to have with you. Stiffening, he shook his head. Did he really just think that? Did he have a... what the fuck was it?... a squash on you? The twinge of revelation sent him into a panic (he couldn't lose you, not like them) and he found himself nursing a bottle of whiskey, quaking silently in the dark, eyes blown wide, ears ringing, and memories flashing by. He didn't know how long he was like this or when you got there but he remembers when you stood in front of him, movements slow and careful as not to startle, voice slightly muffled by the ringing. Gently, you remove the bottle from his grasp, before rubbing circles into the back of his hand and when he's finally able to hear you, you're soothing him. You ask if you can hug him and he nods, the feeling of every nerve scraped raw and slight drunken stupor overpowering the reflex to isolate himself. And so you do. It steals his breath away. Your scent, the warmth of your body seeping into him, the pressure of your hug ...sooths him in a way he can only describe as visceral. He didn't even know of his tears before you dabbed away at them, mouth still lulling him from his episode. Taking a shuddering breath, he looked down at you, your eyes so full of concern and care he nearly breaks down again. You both stay in each other's arms like that for a while before you pull him to his feet, wiping away at the last of his tears. "Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, weighing his options. He could do the typical Logan thing and push you away, isolate... Or he could risk becoming attached and let you in.

Feeling something on his cheek, he looked down to see you cupping the side of his face, gaze so full of empathy and patience that the decision practically made itself.

He told you everything, his trauma, his regrets, how he lost his family, his rampage, all of it. You listened on, nodding when you needed to, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he got particularly emotional, and when he was done you wrapped him into an embrace and whispered "I'm so happy you're here."

From then on your dynamic changed rapidly: sure he was still a gruff grump, but you both initiated more casual contact, you joked and smiled with him more, and he drank less.

It was impossible for anyone not to notice...and oh boy did a certain merc with a mouth notice.

(( ...continued in part two ))

[marihem]

All I know is I just want to spend the majority of my life with you

The actual very first doodle where I finally put my QPR Frans idea on canvas. Man I really love thinking about queer relationships

Please feel free to ask me anything about their relationship too

[bloggingboutburgers]

hi :) i see you have cool stuf about being aspec. I think you are knowledgable on qpr. I have a question about qprs.... can they be a guy and a girl? Or is it not queer enough to be considered a queerplatonic relationship? Idk, I am in situations and wanna know if it's valid

Thank you.❤️

Bruh I absolutely don't see why not.

Here's my chance to remind that queer doesn't have to equal same-sex by the way. Different-gender couples including at least one bisexual or pansexual individual are queer. Different-gender couples including at least one trans or nonbinary individual are queer. Different-gender couples including at least one asexual or aromantic individual are queer. Doesn't matter if they're "passing". The reality is that their experience is outside of the cishet/amato/allo norms, they've have to live through that, and that makes them queer. It's what they ARE, not what they SHOW.

And if due to what you are, a queerplatonic relationship is what would suit you best, who the hell would we be to gatekeep them based on gender? Idk, I think the most important thing about being in a QPR is understanding what it entails and being respectful of the nature of it, and respectful of your partner.

...Also QPRs are pretty freaking amazing so the more people who are interested in them get to experience them, the better imo

[w1ngedv01d]

Hermitcraft/Life Series Characters that are not explicitly married (platonically or romantically) in canon, but give off the Vibes:

Impulse and Skizz

Scar and Grian

Mumbo and Grian (they share)

Jimmy and Martyn

Joe and Cleo

...I would have put Ren and Doc but.... I don't think they count... anymore-

[midnight-love-song]

Happy pride month my bunch of deviant little freaks

[hiemaldesirae]

The Hazbin Graduate’s Guide to Homicide (3)

HAZBIN'S MIDSEMESTER STUDENT REPORT Student: Vox Vanhal Supervising Staff: Professor Enoch Leviathan Sponsor: Not Applicable To the Board: Vox Vanhal may be one of the most brilliant students this school has seen in decades. In all my years of teaching at Hazbin, I have never met a student more insanely ready to learn and apply their skills- due in part, of course, to said student's own possible insanity. I mean this in a jovial way, of course, but I will admit that when young Vanhal's true identity was revealed to me that my first thought was along the lines of 'is this student insane?' Whether or not my student's reason should be called into question is something myself and my fellow professor Asmodeus have discussed in length, but there is one thing that we can definitively agree on: If there is any one student in this school who I would choose to place my bets on, it would be Vox Vanhal. There is nothing more to say at this time of report evaluation. Sincerely, Professor Leviathan.

May God's blessings be with you now and at the hour of our deaths, Amen.

[ 1 ] / [ 2 ] (<- read these first for context and more murder academy radiostatic content!)

Though Alastor may have thought that Vox was much more knowledgable in how Hazbin's Institution for Homicide worked, the truth was, Vox was still fully flying on the seat of his own coattails.

He had no damn clue what he was doing still, and although it'd been two weeks since he'd arrived, part of him still felt like how he did when he'd first arrived: hesitant, scared, not knowing where to go or what to do besides the want to make his boss suffer as he killed him.

That level of animosity might sound strange to anyone not a Hazbin student or alumnus, but it was perfectly normal for any student enrolled in the academy to have such feelings. After all, there was quite a rigorous process involved in the application, and for Vox, this application process (and what led to it) was perhaps more intense than most.

There had once been a time where Vox had dreamed of becoming a Hollywood starlet, one who lit up the silver screen and was blessed by hundreds of thousands of cheering, dedicated fans who would fawn over his every move and action. He'd wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps, at one point. But after taking on his first roles in Carmine Studios, the glamour of Hollywood had shattered like fine glass.

"Miss Vesper! Would you please look over here for a second?"

"Miss Vesper, when is your next movie coming out?!"

"Miss Vesper, is it true that you and your co-star on Anna Karenina, Valentino Vega had an affair-?"

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! That- fucking bastard!" Vox rushed into the privacy of his and Val's shared apartment, slamming the door behind him as he collapsed into the couch, head cradled in his hands. He couldn't even begin to start detailing the number of ways he'd wanted to fucking butcher and rip apart his boss.

Andrealphus Goetia was no stranger to the spotlight, naturally. One of Hollywood's top directors, the man had been an influential cornerstone in the history of movie-making, a real legend to light the days. But behind that picturesque platinum reputation laid a monstrous piece of shit.

It had been a complete accident that Andrealphus had found out about Vox's identity.

Vox himself hadn't even really planned out what to do about himself at that point, only that he'd known that the dresses he wore on screen were far more suited to his best friend than they were for him. Knew that the copious amounts of makeup flattened on him everyday made him feel more like a clown than a princess, that it was the most uncomfortable feeling to have to sit and play the pretty face for the audience's sake.

But he persisted, telling himself, one more year, one more year til my savings account has enough to supply Val and I with a comfortable life and we can leave.

But of course- of course Andrealphus had to ruin it for him.

The man had found out and immediately proceeded to blackmailing Vox with the information, holding things such as promotions, media gossip and rumors over his head. And now... now... Vox stared down at the script he held clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he grasped it with an iron grip.

"Dieser verdammte bastard," Vox muttered under his breath.

Though he'd never loved the spotlight that came with his first taste of fame, he had loved acting. Had loved being adored for his skill, applauded for the emotions that he could evoke in crowds of people and the way he could twist people's hearts. He had wanted to be one of the best, a household name.

And now, he stared down at the script for a movie that Andrealphus knew would tank his reputation. It was absolute bullshit. The plot was held together by thin strings and a bit of glue, despite being an adaptation of one of the past decade's best selling books. Not only that, but the moment he left the safety of the apartment once more, he would also have to contend with the rumors that were steadily piling against him and dragging his loved ones and friends into it too.

All this, because Vox had refused to sleep with his shitty boss.

He could still hear the fucker's voice- come on, don't you wanna say that you got a piece of me? I'll even leave out the part about you being a transvestite, darling, just the fact that I got a piece of you is enough.

God. If only.... if only he could see that bastard's face when he crushed his fucking skull in between his hands. He wanted to see Andrealphus' stupid face contort in revulsion and terror when Vox finally did the deed, wanted to bathe in the the fotze's inbred blood. He'd do anything for the chance to just kill that piece of shit-

"Amorcito?"

Val's voice makes Vox jump on the spot, quickly shifting to hide the script from view. His friend comes around the corner, eyebrows furrowed with concern, and it's this that makes Vox break his composure, a single tear falling down his face as Val frowns, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "Voxxy, amor... tell me what's wrong."

And because he can never keep his mouth shut when it comes to his best friend, Vox tells him everything. Val nods along, pauses at the right moments, all of that stuff that friends do when they're trying to let you know that they'd rip apart your shitty boss if not for the law.

But- and perhaps this is something that Vox knew deep down to be true anyway- Val was a bit different in that aspect. He'd met the man under... less than legal circumstances, after all, and he knew that Val was the heir to quite the illustrous cartel career.

So when Valentino stops him with a firm hand on the shoulder and hands him an application paper for Hazbin, telling him to think it through, Vox barely takes even a second glance at it before filling it out.

Now, two months later and sitting in the auditorium of Hazbin's famed Music Hall, Vox doesn't find himself regretting the decision. Sure, it's a bit lonely without Val's supporting presence by his side, but the students he's met so far have proved to be some of the friendliest people he's had the pleasure of knowing: ironic, considering the kind of school they're studying at. And he's even managed to make a friend! Not that bad a start, altogether.

Vox absentmindedly doodles on the edge of his notes as Professor Leviathan's soothing voice lectures them on the importance of a proper alibi. "If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, but it has an airtight alibi, it is...?"

"Not a duck," the auditorium echoes back to the professor, who nods, looking satisfied with the class's response. "So, then! The first step to alibi making is...? Miss Velvette, perhaps you'd like to answer this one for us?"

The girl sitting beside Vox shoots up in her seat, looking as if she'd just fallen asleep and was awoken by the professor's question. "Uh... the..."

After a moment of silence and stuttering, Vox takes pity on the girl, sliding Velvette over a slide of paper that she squints at before reading. "Make sure you're in a different place from the crime?"

"And how would I do that?"

"I... uh. Use an accomplice...?" Velvette stutters.

Professor Leviathan shakes his head, looking disappointed. "Not quite. One thing you will have to learn at Hazbin's is that you should never rely on any other person to carry your deed out for you. No hiring accomplices- after all, paid personnel's loyalty is shaky and they have no honor code preventing them from taking you to the police- and absolutely no committing crimes as lovers, unless you can guarantee that neither of you will be snitching. Would anyone else like to take a try?"

Vox raises his hand hesitantly. "Move the crime scene or otherwise obscure the culprit?"

Professor Leviathan snaps his fingers, "Yes! Absolutely. One of the best ways to make yourself an iron clad alibi is, if the pope is shot in the church at midnight, make sure that you are seen halfway across town in the bar at midnight; so drunk that you cannot even leave until your wife comes to pick you up at two- and no one will suspect you, even if he was actually killed right outside the pub and moved to the church instead. By moving the crime scene, you can make yourself an ironclad alibi. Obscuring the identity of the perpetrator and making it someone who couldn't possibly be you also works splendidly. After all, if the police believe the murderer to be a six foot tall adult man, then the actual perpetrator, a four foot tall young woman, would be able to pass by completely unnoticed. Thank you for that input, Vox. Now, onto the actual creation of such an alibi..."

When class ends, Vox is the first to leave his seat and head for the door, intending on leaving and getting to Track with Professor Satan as quick as possible when someone stops him in his tracks with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Hey. Vox Vanhal, right?"

"That would be me, yes," Vox turns to face the person he's talking to, only to be met with the young woman that Professor Leviathan had called out in class earlier. "You were... Velvette?"

"Yep, that's me," the chipper young woman responds. "Listen, I know you don't know me at all, but I really need to get through this school year. Like- look, okay, I'm in a little bit over my head right now. I still want to go here and do what everyone here does, of course, I'd love to just go and plunge a damn butcher's knife into my cunt of an ex-friend's neck, but... well, you saw how I did back in class- look, what I'm trying to get at is I need someone to help me. And you're like, Leviathan's star student. So- I don't care what I have to do, I'll-"

Vox holds up a hand to stop her.

"I don't need you to do anything for me, unless you've got any tips on how to kill my boss and make him suffer during it. But I'll help you with whatever you need to study during your courses. Just..." He pauses, taking a moment to think out what he's about to ask. "Could you teach me how you did your makeup on your own?"

Velvette blinks, clearly not expecting that response. She laughs, a shrill, sharp bark and grabs his hand to shake it firmly. "Yeah, 'course I can. So, do we have a deal?"

"We do," Vox smiles. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

[read-write-thrive]

the dead boy detective agency main four are a polycule on various points of the aromantic/asexual spectrum (in addition to their various sexualities), with the various side characters playing the roles of parental figures or talking stages. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[velvet-games]

gender is hard

[ily-tomura]

“It’s not easy to talk about, but…”

Autistic!Tomura Shigaraki, QPR, GN!Reader, Discussions of Pain

The whole time you’ve known him, you’d never describe Tomura as someone who really complains. He’ll frustratedly talk about games levels that he’s stuck on or how hot it is, any little thing that doesn’t really matter, but if something is really, genuinely bothering him, he keeps it to himself.

It’s really hard for him to talk about the things that bother him, especially if the kind of help he needs is something he’d have to talk to a stranger about. You understand that he’s had a rough time with professionals, so you’ve never pushed him on it.

You were getting started on breakfast when he says he wants to talk to you sometime about something important. “It doesn’t have to be now, or even today, but just…. Sometime. Is that okay?” He’s clearly very nervous bringing it up, and you can tell it’s important to him. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but that’s not unusual for him.

It ends up being almost a week later when Tomura approaches you again to finally sit down and talk. He fidgets with his phone, likely with notes of what he wants to say. He takes a deep breath before he starts.

“It’s not easy to talk about, but I don’t want to be in pain anymore… I just don’t know how not to be…”

You sit quietly, just listening to him talk for the longest time. He’s done a lot of reading and tried to figure out what’s been happening to his skin his whole life on his own but he just can’t do it. He’s tried soothing creams, numbing creams, anti-inflammatory gels, everything, anything, but they just makes it hurt more or make it hurt differently. He’s tired. Tired of waking up in the middle of the night unable to stop scratching. He tried wearing gloves to bed, he’s tried trimming his fingernails super short, he’s tried anything he could think of. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t causing open scratches all over his body all the time.

“It’s hard to take care of a body that burns and bleeds when you’re just trying to clean and care for it.” Tomura says, kneading the bottom hem of his hoodie with his hands.

There are the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes as he’s clearly frustrated and embarrassed at not being able to solve it on his own.

Eventually he gets quiet, and lays back. He takes a breath, before continuing. “I don’t even know if it’s a real itch at this point. I’ve thought about it being some kind of nervous tic, or compulsive behavior, maybe a mix of a few things, I’m just….”

The tears roll down the side of his face, but he wipes them on his hoodie sleeve.

“… I don’t want everything to hurt anymore.”

You ask if you can give him a hug, and he says yes. He sits up so you can wrap you arms around him for a moment. That seems to help soothe him, if only a bit.

It’s definitely a long road ahead, but you tell him that you can help advocate for him and be there to support him if he wants to find someone to talk to about these kinds of problems. He looks nervous at that, but you assure him that you can start as small as he needs to. He visibly relaxes, laying back down. He looks up at you, and pats for you to lie down next to him.

You lie back with him, just sitting there in silence for a little while. You know it’s not a lot, but just having you in his corner seems to make his whole disposition a little more hopeful.

[siffrin-enthusiast]

taps mic. aroacespec hannigram. gnc hannibal and trans will (ftm or mtf). qpr hannigram. is this thing on