If I Ever Make A Webtoon Abt My Story Im 100% Having Ochre Surprise Carnelian With A Surpriseblind Date

If I ever make a webtoon abt my story I’m 100% Having Ochre surprise Carnelian with a surprise “blind” date

Context?

(Tw: Caps)

Carnelian is possessed by a demon that he begins losing control over when experiencing strong feelings such as anger, shock or, most often, passion. 

This makes his relationship with Ochre a little rocky, but not only because of this. 

You see, Carnelian’s demon is a bit dramatic in that

um

well

if any poor soul looks at Carnelian when he manifests this demon, then they are “Marked”, which makes the demon, and in turn Carnelian, experience an overwhelming urge to kill said person. :|

So

Yeah Carnelian is pretty emotionally reserved. Kind of a more limited birdbox situation lol.

But

But

Ochre takes Carnelian on a date where he wears a blindfold. 

So as long as no one else sees them, they can do pretty much whatever they want. 

I. MUST. DRAW. THIS. 

(Someday.)

R E B L O O O OG G G G .

Reblog art guys. Seriously.

Another Humans Are Weird Thing:

What if there was a race of extremely dangerous and powerful aliens, and a crew sent out their human ally to negotiate a statement of neutrality, that kind of thing. But, 

They bring their dog with them. 

In one of those cute little pet life jackets modified to be an air tank bc of the planet’s toxic atmosphere. 

And when said human meets the leader, xe’s like “*Gasp* you have one too!” 

“A what?”

Xe points to the space doggo. “A pet!”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had Daisy for forever. Are you saying you have pets here too?”

“We do! Want to see them?”

“Sure!”

And the two of them, (accompanied by guards to protect the leader, of course) walk down into the ship to an ominous hallway. After they walk through it, the leader opens a door to a hallway filled with chained, moaning prisoners of war from multiple conquered planets. Xe gestures to them happily. “Pets! :D”

The human then has to explain the difference between a pet and a war prisoner.

Reblogging this bc it is really cool and I want to read it again :0

Here’s a me-coming-out-as-aro contribution post

So, my mother and I have fought a lot when it comes to LGBTQA things. A lot of it has to do with her having been raised Southern Baptist, and also with her having been a bona fide hippie when she was younger and had raised her children to think for themselves.

When I found out what aromanticism is, it was seriously the most freeing experience in my life. When it came to coming out to my mother, however, I was scared. 

See, my mother always supported and understood about my lack of interest in dating or meeting someone. Always. She would tell me how when she was my age, she related.

I knew that if I just went to her and simply told her that I was not getting married or the like, ever, she would have said sure, probably try to reassure me that one day I’ll ‘meet the right person’, but she wouldn’t ever push the issue.

My fear was that if I tried to label it and explain the actual thing of it, she wouldn’t understand, dismiss it as a new-age thing, or worse, tell me I’m wrong and set out to prove it by trying to get me to meet people.

So, I was very happy and surprised when she actually listened and said okay. Her road to full understanding and acceptance was a long one though.

I could see the struggle in her eyes when I talked about it or even referenced it. I caught her once reading some article about it. She would talk to my older sister some about it when I came out to her too, and I could see her get visibly frustrated when my sister started down a road of “Well, she’s still young, you know…”

Then one day, almost a year later, I come walking into her kitchen, and in greeting, she looked me dead in the eye and said seriously, “I think Sherlock Holmes was aromantic.”

My mother, who loves the books, went through and re-read them and wrote down all the evidence she found to support him as aromantic. That apparently had sent her down a character/aro rabbit hole, and she had a whole page in that notebook of hers listing other characters she very adamantly thought were aromantic and why. (Captain Jack Sparrow and Castiel included.)

It was such a fucking touching moment for me, and I had to literally hold back tears as she went full-on obsessed-fan-mode in showing me her research.

That wasn’t the best to come though:

It had taken her that time to wrap her head around it, but during her journey, she learned of other ID-possibilities out in the world.

I took her out on her birthday not long after, and she gave me the biggest smile and told me that, at age 65, she felt a validation and freedom she didn’t know existed. That she could now look back on her life, on all the men, the confusion, the broken hearts, the tangled love, and so many times when she thought she was made wrong or something, and felt this huge weight lifted off of her.

She told me she was demisexual.

Actual interaction during a recent family get-together:

Ignorant relative: Yeah-huh! Aunt, didn’t your daughter turn you… not gay, but one of them weird ones.

My mother, without missing a beat and with a straight face: No. She just warned us that whatever cold-heartedness you think I have, she has in spades.

>:3

Tw: Caps

Puts on Youtuber voice and backwards aspec cap

S AY IT WITH ME

DEMISEXUALS ARE NOT “LIKE EVERYONE ELSE”. 

DEMISEXUALS ARE V A L I D A F

DEMISEXUALS BOTH ARE AND DESERVE TO BE IN THE LGBTQIA+ COMMUNITY

DEMISEXUALS ARE NOT “PICKY” OR “COLDHEARTED” OR “CONFUSED" OR “NOT ACE ENOUGH” OR “A CIS PRETENDING TO BE IN THE COMMUNITY” OR ANY OF THAT OTHER EXCLUSIONIST BULLCRAP

DEMISEXUALS ARE LOVED AND VALID AND DESERVE SOME GODDANG APPRECIATION FOR ALL THE EXCLUSIONIST CRAP THEY GET FED. GIVE US SOME GODDANG REPRESENTATION, YOU MAKEBELIEVE GATEKEEPERS AND ACEPHOBES. >:[[[[

Forgot I made this XD

The speaker looming above the waiting area crackled to life.

“Attention all passengers. Last call to get on plane number… uh…” A shuffling of paper. “Five… Trillion and… Ugh, I can’t keep track of these flights anymore. Just board the plane if your call number ends in a ‘3’, okay?” It crackled and turned off. Underneath it sat Quail, who disinterestedly typed on her laptop. She glanced at her call number.

“FRICK!!” 

She immediately stood, her laptop falling to the ground with a loud THUD. The other passengers gave her a strange look as she awkwardly put her laptop in her backpack and sprinted down the hall. She glanced out a window as she crossed the empty loading bridge to see a white plane, marked with an excessively long number, picking up speed on its runway. She hastened her pace. “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’M LATE!!!” 

And, to the dismay of the airport guides, she crashed through an emergency door leading out into thin air, taking off her jacket and tying it to her waist. Two ebony-black wings snapped open behind her as Quail flapped furiously towards the plane, which was getting precariously close to the end of the runway. 

As she grew closer and closer, the entry door to the plane seemed more and more… locked. New plan, she thought. She grabbed onto the side of the plane just as it began to gain altitude, hanging on for dear life by her fingertips as the wind whipped her golden glasses off her face. She caught them before they flew out of reach and repositioned them on her nose. Slowly, she put one hand in front of the other, pulling herself forward through the blasting wind, grabbing onto mere screws as she made her way to the front of the ship. 

Once she got there, Quail was flattened onto the front windshield, getting a clear view of two very shocked co-pilots. At this point, unable to think over the earth-shaking wind and turbulence, she painstakingly lifted her left arm and pointed to the entry door. One of the co-pilots shakily pressed a button on the dashboard, and the sound of moving metal indicated that the door had opened. She mouthed the words “Thank You” and let herself fall to the left side of the plane, just barely grappling onto the handle of the loading door as it turned inwards. 

She was thrown into the main entrance, where two flight attendants stared at her with shock visible even underneath their oxygen masks. As Quail awkwardly stood and closed the door, she checked her boarding pass she’d hidden underneath her heart-shaped hairclip. It read: Google Airlines, Tumblr, Seat 84.