I need fake/pretend dating and lavender marriage fics for two aromantic/nonamorous people
Two people who are sick of society pushing their romance agenda and mutually benefit from the fake romance and understand each other's boundaries.
I need them to attend family reunions, back up each other and make up excuses to get away from problematic/nagging family members.
I need them to go to work events together, and build good repor with coworkers.
I need them to be strategic nerds, and schedule "couple" selfies and relationship tidbits to their group chats and feed.
I need them to make a notes app of all the "kinda romantic" things that happen so they can yap about eachother without lying ("They got me lunch on thursday." "They water my plant for me when i was home late.")
I need them to get an apartment together to save on funds.
I need them to carpool to save on gas.
I need them to own a cat (or several).
And i need romantic love to NOT win in the end! 💚🤍🩶🖤
"aromantic but I'll let men hit on me in bars because I want them to get me a grilled cheese sandwich and maybe some fries"
💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐
Curtis is one of the best bartenders in the city. Not because he's the best at mixing drinks, although he's gotta be in the top ten. It's because he's got a good read on people and knows what they're actually craving.
He smirks every time he sees a guy try to buy you a drink. You have the most adorable sneer. He makes sure none of the guys actually buy you anything, can't have them trying to use that against you.
After the latest guy moves on, Curtis goes on break and heads to the kitchen. He's back there just long enough to cook up some fries and grilled cheese. He makes it a double.
Going back to the bar, he presents you with one of the baskets of fries and a grilled cheese, cut diagonally. His eyes sparkle when he sees how happy you are.
This seems like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐
- Zombie
Curtis, my guardian angel!!!!! This truly is the quickest way into my heart forever. And I bet he makes a mean old fashioned too! The beginning of a beautiful friendship, indeed. He's never getting rid of me now.
Thank you, @thezombieprostitute !! This is so sweet and lovely. 🥰
Adrien comes to terms with his aromanticism and tries to get his friends (including the pining Marinette) on board with a little support and love from Plagg and Ladybug
OK I originally wrote the first 3 chapters in 2021 and by some bizarre stroke of inspiration I decided to write another chapter and want to keep going (but we shall see). so....check it out?
Love it MUAH MUAH! The world needs more supper fluffy aromantic fics that actually focus on a character being Aromantic!
Read this one ages ago and it's a very quick, yet lovely read 💞
Adore how HSY was the first to go "ohhh... He's not just dense, he flat out doesn't like people that way" and it's never a problem.
Everyone loving KDJ is something I feel like we need rn so make sure to leave the local ORV fluff writers some love!!! Gonna need it in these trying times lol
more info under cut
What type of platonic things do you wanna talk about?
Tons
Friends that act like siblings
Everyone thinks we’re dating and it’s hilarious let’s mess with them. But it genuinely stays non-romantic
Yeah I know you don’t get our relationship, but we’re perfectly happy hanging out and being together like this and frankly I don’t get why you care so much?
Normalize homies kissing homies. Maybe even fucking. Perhaps?
We’re in love, just not that type of love. Eww.
Any handful of considerably intimate behaviors like sharing beds or bathing together without it being romantic or sexual in nature.
You know, just usual relationship stuff without it being inherently romantic.
Okay, so… I may not be aromantic myself, but my best friend is. And every time I see/hear/notice the stigmatization surrounding aromantic people I picture them and get angry about just how down right laughable that is. I know that my friend is one of the most loving people you will ever meet, and they are valid and they are real. So I wrote this short drabble. I do hope that I could do all you amazing aromantic folks out there justice with this.
Patton was full of love. You could ask anyone who knew him, they would most certainly tell you that no one was so willing to show their love and affection and had as much love to give as Patton.
Patton was a doting father, for one. He’d rescued the twins out of a car after the incident that had cost them their biological family. They didn’t remember, had been too young for their brains to capture the happenings for more than a few moments. Patton had taken care of them after that and, when they had been old enough for adoption, taken them in. And he’d taken care of them like his own, gave them all the support they could wish for, made sure they felt loved and safe every second of every day. Honestly, it was quite exasperating to hear him as he keep going on and on about the two of them.
Patton also loved his friends.
He loved his high school friend Virgil, who was introverted and anxious but also sassy and sarcastic when he knew you well enough. He loved when Virgil would babysit for him, loved how Virgil and Roman would get into half-hearted fights ending in make-believe slaughter. He loved how he got protective of Remus and made up for they boy’s missing self-preservation instinct. He loved how Virgil came over for talks and baking sessions. Patton was always there for Virgil when he needed to talk or a shoulder to cry on or someone to let all his anxious thoughts out on. He may not been able to talk Virgil down form panic like Logan did, but he sure as heck validated the living daylights out of his friend and made sure he would calm down afterwards. “Let’s not get stormy thoughts again sleep-overs” were a tradition at this point.
He also loved his college friend Logan. Logan the professor of astronomy who’s been fondly exasperated by his coworker, the professor of psychology, for since his first day at the job. “Janus, you have stolen so many things from poor Logan. His time, his favorite doctor who pen, the position of the supervisor of the debate club, his patience, his breath, his sleep and now even his last name. Logan, watch out, he may be coming for your crofters next.”, he’d begun his best man speech. He loved how Logan could complain about his husband and laughed whenever he would make a compliment while complaining. He loved Logan’s helplessness when it came to feelings and was almost not jealous that it was Janus who helped him with it now. He loved to watch Logan be Janus’ financial self-restraint and hear him mutter “Lord give me patience, because if you give me strength I may just need bail money too” after meeting another person asking dumb questions.
He loved Janus too, of cause! He loved his card tricks and his way of making known that he wouldn’t check up on you while doing exactly so. He loved listening to the stories he would tell the twins and the dinner parties he held in his family’s cottage, which ended with everyone gathered around the fire place as they listened to Logan talk about the stars and Janus diagnosing them semi-seriously. Patton was also always happy to mediate between the two of them when the rival part of their relationship had caused another fight they both felt guilty over but were to insecure and thick-headed to reach out with an olive branch. Patton was more than happy to answer a phone call in the middle of the night and open the door to examine the scar on his face and when the memories refreshed through haunting dreams wouldn’t let him believe they were all healed up by now.
Patton loved his coworkers at the hospital, too. The bubbly psychologist Emile with whom he would have long discussions about TV shows and cartoons nearly every lunch break and a certain expert on sleep analysis who never got any sleep himself were the closest to him. It was how Virgil had gotten to know Remy in the first place. The two had bonded over their coffee addiction and before Patton knew what was happening the two of them were the cutest “we hate cutesy-couple-stuff” couple that had ever existed. And taking a few notes out of Janus’ book Patton had developed a habit of making sure Emile didn’t stay up too long watching re-watching old episodes and Remy didn’t overdose too much on caffeine and got, well, a little sleep each night. His disappointed-dad-gaze seemed to help a great deal with that, according to the two of them.
And Patton loved animals. Every single one of them. He loved the dog they found in an ally one night and had taken in and named “Prince Duke” thanks to his two children. He loved every cat he brought to the shelter when it rained, despite his allergies. He loved the butterflies Roman would chase through the garden, and… well, maybe not the moths Remus always had a knack for finding. But he for sure loved all the dugs the three of them would feed hard, old bread rolls to in the park every Sunday! He also loved every single animal in the Zoo he would bring his boys to every other Saturday after not so much convincing.
So, yes, Patton Sanders’ life was full of love. He gave and received love in so many shapes and he had always a bit more to give for someone in dire need of it. And maybe that was the reason why, but he really didn’t care much about whether people understood. He had all the love and support he needed, after all.
Still, it was nice to hear Janus joke about shoving people down a few stairs when they said something rude. It was nice to know his kids would readily pick up their foam weapons and “fight” everyone who said their dad was heartless. It was nice to know that Remy would use his connections to make sure their coffee order would be as wrong as humanly possible for the next month should anyone make a comment on his watch. It was nice to see Logan shake his head angrily and it was nice to feel his hand on his shoulder in a silent question of “Are you alright?” whenever there was a comment in passing, and it was nice to hear him out-logic them and showcase how stupid the comment had been through sheer logic every other time. It was nice to hear Virgil, who didn’t even dare to order for himself most of the time, yell across the street, though the language he used usually wasn’t very nice.
Patton was full of love and so was his life. The only kind of love he didn’t have was a romantic one - and he surely didn’t need it. Patton wasn’t sad or lonely or heartless like many would have imagined. No, Patton was happy, surrounded by his chosen family and full of love. And Patton Sanders was a proud aromantic. He was proud because there was nothing wrong with it - and if you disagree, well, then you should prepare, because his army of loved ones will fight you.
Umbra: noun, the innermost and darkest part of shadow resulting from the total obstruction of light by a planetary body in eclipse.
Night has fallen on the Republic. Clones open fire, and Jedi die- but not all of them. And not all who live have a great purpose laid out for them as Obi-Wan did. For some who live, the first priority is simply keeping their Padawan, or Master for that matter, alive. Determining what it means to be a Jedi in this new Empire will come after that.
This has been a labor of love of mine for the past decade, and I am excited to finally be posting it. Thematically, this is a story of overcoming trauma, found family, respect of Jedi culture, and everyone is queer. This will update weekly through the end of August!
Chapter 2 includes me making up lore about Legends-style Force Bonds as queerplatonic relationships. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I’m really happy with how I wrote it in-universe. :)
Sanji says “Fuck Soulmates.” What a mood. Read on AO3!
Ink and skin.
First words, doodles, tattoos, quotes, and names.
Sanji pulled himself out of bed, looking over his arms, his legs, his torso, checking his skin in the mirror for anything that would have appeared in the night. Everyone had told him that sometimes soulmate connections didn’t reveal themselves until he was older, but they always appeared by a person’s 20th birthday.
His 21st birthday was yesterday.
Maybe his connection had been lost to time, his soulmate died before their meeting. But he would have known if that was the case, or so he was told. Sanji had spent 19 years of his life without knowing who his soulmate was, not having any way of finding them through his skin or words. He had gotten so desperate at one point that he had scribbled nonsense on his arms, his legs, his chest, begging for a response.
Private identifiers.
Timers counting up and down, colors, emotions, and numbers.
Sanji had spent the first 18 years of his life enjoying the concept of love and kissing, experimenting with other people who hadn’t found their soulmate either. Practice, they called it, for when they did find them. But the past three years had been filled with existential dread. Still no sign of a soulmate, and time was running out.
Exactly a year ago he spent a day on his own, screaming and crying and angry at the universe for not delivering on its promise.
And then he met his friends. None of them had soulmates either, but they didn’t seem to care. It took him a few months to accept that maybe he wouldn’t have one, and there was always a voice in the back of his head saying he was a bad person for not having a soulmate. Unloveable. Unwanted.
Unconscious.
Dreams, agelessness, and habits.
Not even his habits or little tics seemed to be influenced by an outside force. His father had told him not to worry about it, that he had never had a soulmate either. You have to move on with your life at some point, stop worrying about having a soulmate and just make the most of the life you were given.
Sanji always saw his father as a one in a million case. Having adopted him after being thrown out of his home at a young age, Sanji had loved his father and spending time with him. Until he started school, he didn’t even realize that soulmates were everywhere. He thought they were just something that sometimes happens to people but was very uncommon.
His classmates bragged about having signs of a soulmate at age 9.
Superpowers.
Opposites and nullification.
Soulmates permeated every facet of society, even when he tried to avoid them. When Sanji finally came to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn’t have a soulmate, he tried to avoid talking about them altogether. This only lasted so long, as after years of training in martial arts with his father, and finally surpassing him, he discovered that while doing certain techniques, he could light himself on fire and not feel burned.
The other dojo students started speculating on his soulmate’s power.
In his friend group, however, many of them had various powers or abilities that were trained beyond a normal person’s capacity. Luffy, the boy who invited Sanji into the group a few years ago, could stretch himself like rubber, but never showed signs of having or wanting a soulmate. And Robin, a woman who could make various body parts appear from anywhere, shared the same sentiment.
That was common in the group. Nobody felt like they needed a soulmate, and the topic was generally not discussed by them when they went out.
In synch.
Heartbeats.
But with the combined influence of his father and his friends, Sanji realized that maybe he didn’t need to have a soulmate to be happy. Everyone around him still tried to insist that he was broken without one, and some days he felt they were right. Almost everyone around him was still trying to figure it out, find their soulmates, and he even saw some people break down when they thought they were alone forever.
He would comfort them as best as he could, try to tell them about his friends, and how they were doing fine without soulmates. Some listened and even wanted to meet them, but others pushed him away still, in disbelief and disgust.
“I need a soulmate! Don’t you see? I’ll be alone forever without one!”
But they didn’t. Sanji wished he could scream it from the rooftops, stand in the street like one of those people handing out pamphlets about different ways to identify a soulmate, except instead of promoting that harmful mindset, he’d say it was okay.
It was okay to not have a soulmate. It was okay to be by yourself or center your life around friends and work and hobbies and anything else that wasn’t one single person. That you would be okay if you adopted a kid and raised them yourself, like how he had spent his youth. That even if you didn’t feel anything towards anyone, your life was still worth living.
Sanji wanted to scream at the society he lived in.
