#the whole concept of attraction is so baffling to me

[gemstarstarlight]

PETER’S SEXUALITY IS WHATEVER’S FUNNIEST I love it

I use too many devices to keep track of all the panels I’ve saved of “Peter flirting with men or otherwise indicating he’d be dtf”, so fuck it, I’m going to stick them all on this post as I rediscover them.

[nezoriy]

List of "normal" things that always baffled me as a person on the aro/ace spectrum:

Disclaimer: A lot of this is based on the feelings and perception of my teenage self when I started to feel people around me were weird but didn't have the language or concept yet to understand what was wrong. So, give me a break if it sounds edgy sometimes. I don’t have the energy to sugarcoat every statement so it doesn’t offend anyone. If you're part of the mainstream and feel attacked by a random dude on the internet questioning things you find "normal," maybe ask yourself why you’re upset instead of coming for me.

1. "Love at first sight."

Even as a kid, this felt like a scam. I get friendship, and I can imagine love developing out of it. But for that, you need to know the person. You can't know someone instantly. So how on earth is this supposed to work? (The answer is, most ppl can feel sexual attraction instantaneously and it gets sold as love for the kids.)

2. Finding someone "attractive" = you’d like to fuck them.

I honestly was like 20something when I realized that actually yes, when ppl talk about someone, even celebs, being "attractive," they do mean they’d like to have sex with them and not just compliment them on their looks.

Like, I can honestly say that many of my friends, Cate Blanchett, and Hugh Jackman are "attractive." But to me, that’s like talking about a painting. Like, sure, Singer Sargent's Madame X is "attractive," but no one's trying to, uh, get it on with the painting… right?

3. The whole concept of dating (to find a romantic partner.)

So, you’re telling me people meet up specifically to see if they might develop feelings for each other when they don't have those feelings yet? 

Like, what even makes you say yes to a date if you don't know a person at all? (The answer is: once again, sexual attraction, obviously.) 

On the other hand, if you’re already friends with someone and just wanna see where it goes, why bring the flowers and fancy dinners into the equation?

4. Why people (especially women) would even risk sex back when it could have had major consequences for them

The list includes (but isn’t limited to):

Women before reliable contraception in societies where an unplanned pregnancy could be socially catastrophic;

Brothel visitors once STDs were known;

(Here’s the tricky one bc I myself kinda feel guilty for not being empathetic enough) gay people, especially men, in times and places where they could literally be imprisoned or executed for having sex

I need to be very clear here, this isn’t about moral superiority as I'm not feeling any, it’s about survival. Like, if sex could legit mess up your life, why not just… not do it? 

Yeah it's basically rip to “fallen” women but I’m different.

5. The culture of one-night stands, cruising, club hookups, etc.

This is still a bit uncomfortable in my head because this is a very prominent part of gay culture specifically, and I’ve always felt incredibly disconnected from it. But I can't edit it out.

Okay, so someone’s hot. I can maybe get that there’s a spark. But if you don’t know them… what if they open their mouth mid-action and reveal they voted for trump? Instant deal-breaker, my genitals are shriveling in terror.

6. The need to have a partner / actively searching for one.

I give it to you, if you vibe with someone, getting into a relationship may make sense. But actually, putting in effort to find one? For what? There’s so much other cool stuff in life!

7. "I haven’t had sex in five minutes/a month/half a year 😱😭" / jokes about dry spells.

Do you actually keep track of the timelines? So what if you haven’t? I get it, orgasm is great and all, but your hand still works, right? Why do you need another person for that? 

8. Imagining yourself in place of a person/character in sex scenes.

This mostly applies to fanfics but also “regular” porn. Even if the scene is hot, I don’t picture myself as any of the characters involved. Even if I'm aroused, I like it precisely for the characters in a specific scenario, I would only be a third wheel there. 

9. Sexual fantasies with yourself as a participant.

I really don't want to imagine myself in any sexual scenarios, neither with fictional characters nor with real people, even if I might have a crush on them. 

10. Cheating in relationships/marriage.

I’m not even talking about the moral aspect of breaking trust/violating the negotiated agreements; it’s the fact that someone "just couldn’t help themselves," “accidentally” had sex. Like, you’re willing to break an agreement, feel all the guilt, and go all secret agent-level to hide the thing because you… what, couldn’t keep it in your pants?

11. Extreme jealousy over sex.

Alongside the last point, I don’t really get why people make such a big deal about someone sleeping with someone else. Sure, it’s not cool to break agreements, and it’s a valid reason to re-evaluate the relationship. But just because they hooked up with someone else? Why is it such a dramatic deal?

(Spoiler alert: I’ve grown up to be poly now, who’s surprised xD)

12. The sexualization of women in media, ads, and the outrage from cishet guys about female characters wearing realistic armor instead of metal bikinis in their games now.

What do you mean, people actually like this and it works on them? Do people actually appreciate having half-naked women in their media? Seriously?

13. The priority of romantic relationships over friendships and every other kind of relationship.

From "got a partner, disappeared for two months from their friend group" to the whole idea that romance is inherently more "serious" or "important" than friendship. Why? Who made that a rule?

Okay, that’s it off the top of my head. Might add something later. 

[specialagentartemis]

Trick or treat! Tell me about your ace cavemen

hell yeah

the question of “what does sexuality look like in Paleolithic times, when the population was very low and dispersed, and it’s unlikely that property ownership or inheritance are factors to be concerned about?” is one that’s of interest to a lot of people, but there’s little imagination given to queerness that I’ve seen. What does being queer look like in this very, very different social setting?

Landownership is an incoherent concept here, and there’s very little distinction in material wealth to be kept private, and what clan you belong to is far more important than who your parents are directly. (I’ve also given my Ice Age community a consensus-based egalitarian decision-making system, so descent isn’t important in leadership either.) What are sexual norms in such a society?

So I’m thinking about Pendíkhia as ace-spectrum, though of course the language doesn’t exist and they don’t really conceptualize sexuality in terms of attraction and identity. There must always have been people who just… weren’t that interested in having sex, didn’t really desire it that much and preferred other types of relationships.

The “standard” normative relationship in this culture are committed pairs or small groups. You are born into one of three clans, and your whole clan is your family. Having sex with anyone born into the same clan you were is taboo, it’s incestuous. The clans are matrilocal; men move to join and live with their wives’ clan. Same-sex partners, meanwhile, are accepted as valuable alloparents; every adult in the clan helps raise the children, so having childless adults at any given time is valuable to help distribute the caretaking duty and make sure there are people to look after children and people to go off on hunting or gathering parties. Same-sex partners choose whose clan they live with based on 1) who has a pregnant sister, or a sister with an infant, who needs more support; or, if both or neither do, 2) the one with lower status within their own clan will tend to move to live with the partner of higher status within their clan. Women are encouraged to be trained as religious and medical specialists rather than men, to reduce the chance of these specialists leaving the clan. Some men may choose not to take a committed partner at all, in order to stay with their birth clan, if that is something they consider valuable to them. Summer is a time when all three clans get together and live together along the coast, a time of abundance and freedom, and unpartnered young adults are encouraged to have whatever sex they want (that doesn’t break incest taboos ofc) as a way of determining if they want to settle down and commit to any of them. (Nobody really conceptualizes romance as the root of partnership. Desire, affection, love, sure yeah absolutely. But romance as a category is just not… a thing they have.) Pendíkhia is an unpartnered adult who tried that the first summer she reached adulthood and realized she… doesn’t actually. Care. Or want to spend her time doing that, or committed to another person like that.

Kurrat meanwhile is expendable for human sacrifice partially because he isn’t interested in fucking and therefore unhelpful in preventing Neanderthal population collapse. What use are you then.

(Also partially my interest in sexuality and asexuality is a pointed refutation of a kind of baffling concept I’ve seen in MULTIPLE places—that people in the Ice Age didn’t know that sex led to babies. That they believed that pregnancy just Happened when the time was right. I find this… hard to believe.)

Also, writing asexual characters just kinda comes most naturally to me lol. I am not that interested in writing about sex. However the refutation of romance as a timeless and universal understanding IS intentional.

[basicallyahedgehog]

Hi!

This is going to seem random but I promise it’s about your writing!! I’m pretty new to realizing I’m Ace (like very new) and I’m struggling with coming to terms with it, and with being really afraid of being alone my whole life, and like actually really grieving thinking I was just a picky bisexual (until listening to other people talk about attraction and realizing that is not my experience). And just generally having a pretty hard time.

But I just wanted to tell you that your fic ‘A Little Bit of You’ was so good. Like the beginning part of Harry not understanding that he’s flirting but just very casually affectionate is literally my life. (A part of my life that I have found baffling because doesn’t everyone want to hold their friends’ hands or play with their friends’ hair??? How is that flirting???) I literally started crying when I read that, I felt so seen and validated. Also just like the very real fear of never being loved, of being alone forever, of always being simultaneously too much and not enough. It’s like you took my whole entire heart and put it into a fic. And then you handed my fears the hope that for someone, doing life together is enough; making food together, snuggling on the sofa, getting to travel and adventure 🥹🥹😭😭😭

Anyway. Please pardon my rambling. It’s just that I’ve been really afraid and sad lately, and for a couple of minutes it felt like maybe everything will be okay. Thanks for sharing your writing. 💕

Hi Nonnie.

First off, congratulations on discovering this part of yourself! I know it feels huge and scary but I'm so so happy that you know yourself a little bit better now.

I'm so, so, so glad that my fic helped you, even just a little bit. Fanfic - specifically drarry fanfic - is where I first came across asexuality as a concept, let alone realising that I'm ace. So this feels full circle in a really beautiful way. If you haven't already, I'd encourage you to check out the fics linked in these lists. So many of them were instrumental to me discovering, accepting and feeling comfortable in my own aceness, and any I've read more recently always feel like a warm, affirming hug.

Harry in this is fairly heavily based on my own experiences. The amount of times I've been accused of flirting - and also was apparently being flirted with! (Can we normalise physical affection between platonic friends? Please???).

I promise, that someday, everything will be okay. I can't tell you what that is going to look like, but I truly believe that one day you will look back on this time and smile knowing just how far you've come. Whether that future includes a partner or not, you will be happy and have fulfilling relationships. Because being ace does not take away our capacity to love or be loved - it just looks different.

I didn't know I was ace until more than four years into my marriage. I figured out my demiromanticism even later than that. But those two facts about me don't change the fact that I have a husband whom I love - in my own, Rowan way - and who buys me light up keyboards and makes sure I have enough blankets and huffs when I hog the sheets.

Anyway, this has been a ramble of my own! But thank you so so much for reading my little fic, and for reaching out (I will treasure your words forever). If you ever feel comfortable, my DMs are always open (to you, and to everyone else).

But more than anything, Nonnie, I want you to know that you are valid and loved exactly as you are.

[yonemurishiroku]

How do you feel about Will as bi rep (a major issue for me, a bi dude), is it okay or is it kind of the same as the rest of the book?

First, just let me apologize for the agonizing waiting time. This ask is from May 2nd. In my defense, it took me just that exact time to ruminate for the best answer and still I barely have any clue what I'm talking about. I'm not good at this. I'm really not.

Anyway. Back to the point.

At first glance, I think there's another thing we need to address before going into the details of Will as a bisexual. And that is the definition of what, exactly, is considered representation.

Because Idk about you but I have some criterias when it comes to representation.

Sometimes people just write/ draw/ talk/ etc... about something because they want to or they like, you know? It doesn't have to be representation all the time just because they mention it. They don't want to represent, they just want to... express themselves, so to speak.

Imo, if something wants to represent a concept, a community, whatever, it needs 1/ to be done with a certain level of dedication, knowledge, and awareness, 2/ have some focus on their distinctive traits, and 3/ leave a memorable impression on their consumers/ audience. As the main purpose of representation is to include and to show, you should definitely make your appearance count.

Now, do I consider Will's bisexuality representation?

Eh. I don't know.

Tbh I don't have much of an impression of that... I mean. I'm aware. And it's great that Bisexual Will is finally canon after so many headcanons. And that's all. The weigh of the fact is, well, that of a fact. It doesn't leave an imprint on me.

I, personally, don't have a problem with that. As in: I would understand if Rick just want to include a bisexual character (demigod. Bc we all know Apollo and the Greeks is the whole LGBT spectrum). It doesn't have to be something big all the time, really - Kinda like the way Malcomn Pace's, Paulo Montes's, or Jake Mason's sexuality is left up to interpretation.

So, let's just assume that Will is a bi rep. What do I have to say about this?

I'm assuming you're asking specifically about that part of Will and Persephone (since I don't recall anything else...), so I'm gonna follow that path. I just want to make it clear that:

-Whilst slightly baffled, I have nothing against Will being attracted to Persephone.

-I don't consider it a good choice as bisexual representation.

The first point I have explained in another ask that: as long as it makes sense and fits into the plot - as in, plot-wise, logically - I don't have problem with it, and Will's attraction to life as a whole isn't something new. The principle of what it means, however, is another matter which depends on how the events themselves progress.

The second point: I just... don't think being interested in your boyfriend's step-mother is a good choice for bisexual rep, you know...? Like. I mean. Gods this is hard. I mean you have to admit it's a little weird, to some extent. I have seen weird stuff my whole fandom life but even I were like. "Okayyyy hold up a little---" It's kinda funny, yeah.

Not mentioning blatantly admitting it to your boyfriend's face. And no, Nico's "bisexual chaos" does not help.

Of all the famales in a series and Rick chose Will's boyfriend's step-mother. Bold, really. I'd give him that.

In conclusion: I have to say that I'm not good at this, and I'm at no position to speak for the bisexual community. Though since you ask, I'd say that I, as a AroAce still trying to figure out myself, can't be happy with canon Will as a bisexual representation, and neither do I hold it against the author(s).

[mable-stitchpunk]

So, what do you think about the Tales of the Pizzaplex books? I was pretty confused, because some of the stories seem to take place before the Glamrock animatronics were made.

I kind of feel like I do with the Fazbear Frights stories. Some of them are alright, but a majority of them just don't really do it for me.

Tales of the Pizzaplex is especially notable because while it uses the Pizzaplex as the name of whatever location it wants- filling it up with an endless amount of attractions and locales- it's largely unwilling to actually talk about places from the games, the actual Glamrock animatronics (instead of brief cameos), and at its worst seems to recycle concepts from Fazbear Frights.

You would think a series of books like this would take advantage of the source material, but it seems almost too afraid to actually talk about anything in the games at any leagues without dancing around it. Making many of the stories unsatisfying because they do not feel complete. Tales of the Pizzaplex is too busy hinting about possible plot points that they only tell a story half of the time.

...Plus, things like having fast-spreading cancer as plot points are just so baffling. I'm not even saying it in a wag my finger way. I'm saying it like: what does VR hallucinations and cancer have to do with one another? Another story that ends on an unsatisfying cliffhanger. (Especially bizarre since Fazbear Frights' The Real Jake dealt with cancer in such a tragic and mature way.)

Let's not even talk about the bizarre implications of B-7, and the fact that there's apparently going to be a sequel to it. O.o

That's not to say I dislike all of the stories, obviously, but many of them feel so lifeless.

It's a shame, because I feel like you COULD make a whole book of Pizzaplex stories easy. Ones that involve some of the elements from the games and new ones, but without being so weirdly detached.

But you can't do that when you need to get books out extremely fast and you apparently can't risk stepping on the toes of any possible lore implications. In that case, you play it as safe as possible.

...

Here's some Pizzaplex story ideas:

There's a Karaoke Contest at the Pizzaplex! Just to play it safe in case of rowdy patrons, the technicians decide this is an excellent time to try out the new Bouncer Mode...

2. Working late at the Pizzaplex is never fun, especially when you're stuck unpacking a bunch of old stuff. Especially when the odd plush toys you're unpacking seems to be moving on their own.

3. Animatronic repair goes wrong.

4. Steve and his team of workers find themselves in a precarious situation when the old elevator they found in the basement breaks down and leaves them stranded... Especially when he starts hearing something moving within the walls.

5. Luis gets a message from a friend to meet in the parking garage.

[sapphire-weapon]

Im starting to get amused at how many Ada asks you are getting. I think people don't know what to do with her anymore or know where to place her for that matter. Ada as a stand alone character, (that one Lady Gaga quote) "talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique", etc... With Leon, I feel as though i would look her dead in the eye and tell her not to settle, and that she could do so much better.

She's so under utilized that i feel as though shippers cling to Aeon, because what else is there for her? i hope the new remakes give her some space outside of leons own story.

I am actually baffled by the amount of Ada asks that I get, because I have never really been an Ada person, so to speak.

Historically, it's always been easier for me to say "I don't fucking like Ada" but like. It's always been for reasons that aren't really her fault. I don't fucking like how Capcom uses Ada, I don't like the way she gets pigeonholed in the narrative, I don't like how her only two purposes are "melodrama for Leon" or "get out of jail free card for whenever Capcom can't find a better way to explain how a villain did a thing."

It's nothing to do with Ada's personality. I actually enjoy her as a person, for the most part. Like, she fuckin makes me laugh sometimes. I find the concept of her intriguing, but. At the same time, there's nothing there past her relationship with Leon, because Capcom won't write her in a context removed from him. So why fucking bother giving her the benefit of the doubt?

So like. This is literally the most I have ever talked about her character... ever.

But even then, I do agree with you. I do think that if Ada and Leon were to end up together, Ada would be settling. I don't think he could give her what she needs. Ada was attracted to him initially because he gave her the appearance of someone who's stable and reliable in the middle of the chaos that is her normal life -- but he's not, really. He was already thinking about suicide during the events of RE2. OG Leon is a tortured man with a mood disorder and, eventually, a drinking problem. And Ada's just... not the personality type to help him through his issues. That's why this never actually comes up between them in a meaningful way.

And that's why I get so fucking annoyed at how she's used in this series. That's why I've never wanted to talk about her in the past. Because the whole narrative surrounding her is bullshit, and the writers at Capcom clearly don't respect her autonomy as a character, so why the fuck should I?

Now, Remake does seem to be changing that. And that's great. So I'm trying to be optimistic.

But sometimes I wonder if the anons sending in these asks are folks who have been trapped in the Aeon cult and want to get out while not giving up the affection they have for Ada as a character. I get the desire to want more for her. Hopefully Remake delivers. But until then, I guess I'll just do the best I can with what I've been given. And that's all anyone else can do, too.

[sam-glade]

Happy STS! How different are your characters now vs when you first created them? Is there anything you miss about their previous traits/personality?

Hi Nopal💜 Thank you for the question!

Given that the first draft of something from Days of Dusk was written over 10 years ago, yes, they are quite different. I think they've grown and matured with me. They got more fleshed out, and gained more depth.

However, a part of that is my approach to character development - it's rather iterative, and I need to keep writing their POV, and then rewriting, until they feel like a whole person.

Having said that, there were two major changes.

One is more about where a character ended up: Lissan initially wasn't supposed to be in a romantic relationship at any point of the trilogy. He was never aro/ace, but he simply didn't have time for it and would have felt bad for committing to someone, while spending most of his time saving the world. In the latest draft, he gets together with [redacted] between the 2nd and 3rd book, which streamlines the plot a lot - it's a very convenient excuse for flow of information between various parties and an explanation why these two are together in some situations.

I liked the concept of the protagonist not having a love interest though, so I made Rilna from The Truth Teller explicitly ace and embraced it.

The biggest change by far is that initially Erya was a man. The third book, Prodigal Children, starts with her making her relationship with the First Prince official, which screws up a tonne of metaphysical set up of the world. In the first draft, it was an arranged marriage kind of situation. There was little attraction between them, but it was the only way to make things fair (that they saw), and honestly it was a very tragic story with the backdrop of more tragedy.

@tisiphonewolfe encouraged me to rewrite the 2nd and 3rd book with her as a woman, and suddenly things clicked together. There was chemistry. My other alpha reader read the first scene of the rewrite, and the immediate comment was "they're flirting already!?"

I'm still baffled as to why this worked.

[alexstorm]

I'm sorry but this concept is so foreign to me no matter if the guy is 80 or 37. If I am with someone I want more than just money and finding someone attractive includes touching them. But noticing they don't reciprocate would shatter me. So yeah, I'm having a hard time making sense of all this. / Letting go is hard. Even in normal relationships. But for Louise there is even more on the line, her whole life actually. She would lose her title of being girlfriend to someone famous, her financial security, interest of ‘fans’ (lets be honest, people are still watching what she’s doing while she’s with him), majority of people in her life since we know she only values people Alex brought into her life.. she would fall into oblivion. She is completely dependent on him. So staying with a man who shows little interest publicly is the least she can endure.

Oh, I'm fully aware of how much she is dependent on him but this is going on for five years now and he doesn't seem to want to commit any further or make the next step (e.g. move her in) which means she'll continue to live in this dependent limbo of having to please him so he doesn't dump her. She sure knows all this and still doesn't make any plans she could fall back on or have a bit of security. It's seriously mind baffling to me.

[takaraphoenix]

I know the last thing you should do with bigots is to engage with them. I know that, nothing comes from it.

But I have to admit morbid curiosity at just how far this individual would bend over backward to deny the truth. I’ve come to the conclusion that they must live in a whole different parallel world.

Highlights of this conversation:

claims of not easily being grossed out after the act of consensual sex between two off-age partners in a committed relationship grossed them out (this kickstarted this conversation, fyi)

somehow mixing up and combining atheism, paganism, patriotism and capitalism into one concept of “atheistic paganism”

calling pagan gods “not remotely good” and condemning paganism (which just seems... baffling, considering we’re having a conversation about THEIR god condemning people who have sex before marriage or who simply exist as homosexuals to eternal damnation. Sure, sure, the pagan gods are the evil ones here)

“homophobes do not exist”, based on their narrow definition of the semantics of the word, completely denying the actual concept it refers to

based on the semantics: homophobes have “a solid PTSD-level terror”, so naturally they would never seek out that which they fear

“someone with a phobia about running across homosexuals; why then would such a person even willingly encounter people dealing with same-sex attraction, pray tell?”

saying acts of violence against gays are “forbidden, rightfully so” while in the same sentence saying that voting “against same-sex lifestyles is a Totally different matter altogether“ and lacking the braincells to connect these two dots

still lacking the braincells after I connected the dots of voting against same-sex will restrict and take away rights, inevitably leading to acts of violence against this group of people no longer being forbidden and, ultimately, being incited by the law. I explained this. With the very universally known example of WWII and concentration camps

“they have PTSD about you, but they then seek you out? Come on! None of that makes any sense, really at all!“ they really got hung up on this lil definition of homophobes that they made up in their lil brain

"First of all, homosexuality was openly *supported* by the Nazis“, this is where I reached my limit, btw

“In fact, Trump's supporters are the Good guys at that, as history has proven abundantly.”, a paragraph down from limit reached

"your whole stance is utter nonsense; as the strong need not fear the weak, nor do they“, yeah no this isn’t even a fun thought experiment on how your weird brain works anymore since you just flat out refuse to understand what oppression is and how it works

“the Nazis were really extreme left-wing“ final but FAVORITE line of this whole conversation. The embodiment of the radical right is actually extreme left. For sure, since this whole conversation was very upside down

This was easily the most repulsive conversation I’ve ever had. And, again, I know arguing with bigots is pointless, I never expected to come out of this having converted them or anything, but to actually read the levels of denial of the real world, of real oppression, hate-crimes and the existence of... of just other view points, quite honestly - since they kept claiming “objective reality” over the “fact” that homosexuality is wrong - was... mindblowing.

Nothing makes me feel more like taking a shower, not just or my body but for my soul, than talking to someone who’ll try and act like oppression doesn’t exist.

[dancingdanvers]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CAROLINE JAYME]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [BRITT ROBERTSON]. You must be the [TWENTY EIGHT] year old [EVENT PLANNER]. Word is you’re [LOYAL] but can also be a bit [PEDANTIC] and your favorite song is [THE SHOW - LENKA]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

[[ Cancer mention tw]]

Thanks to Caroline’s father being English, the girl was born in London after her mother moved there to live with him. They’d been married for five years when they found out she was expecting a baby and even though that was known to bring two people together it only drove Mr and Mrs Jayme apart, escalating into loud frequent rows until he walked out on them not long after Caroline’s sixth birthday. 

The woman took her husband’s leaving incredibly hard but after two further years of living in England she decided the best thing to do was return to her hometown of Aurora Bay with her young daughter to be closer to what she knew and around the people she’d grown up with. 

The move made Carrie very nervous, going to a place she’d never been in her life, she clung onto her mother even more than she did before. A mommy’s girl through and through the girl already considered the woman her best friend, she was effectively her mini me. To cope with the transatlantic move she started to read even more than she already did, escaping into fictional worlds where she could be instantly transported wherever she wanted to be. It was a way for her to cope with her anxiety which was something she’d always suffered with but was only made worse by the significant life changes that had been inflicted on her. 

Life passed uneventfully for the next ten years as Carrie made her way through school, a naturally academic girl, she did well in most of her classes and while she didn’t have a huge number of friends she had a those she trusted the most which worked for her. Loyal in nature trust was very important to her, the social intricacies of high school especially left her utterly baffled. Not understanding why so much judgment was passed over what someone wore or what they did or did not have, not seeing the attraction of cheerleading or football as something to be revered. Finding it pretty boring on the whole. 

Caroline was twenty five when her mother got sick. The cancer was already stage three when the doctors discovered it during what was meant to be a routine physical, and less than a year later she had passed away leaving Carrie all alone. Never having had any siblings and her father no longer in contact with his only child, she’d lost her only family as well as her best friend all at the same time. It wasn’t something she dealt with very well, going out a little more than she usually did, drinking to try to cope. Not too much but since she’d never really been one for alcohol before that it would easily go to her head, allowing her to fall asleep a little more easily. 

One night stands were something the blonde had never had before so when she did have her first with Gavin Carrigan the last thing she could have imagined in a million years would that it would result in her falling pregnant with his child. Effectively a stranger she didn’t have any concept of how to communicate the information with him, tell him she was pregnant, so instead she just left town. Avoiding having to do it altogether by moving entirely, selling her family home which felt like it was ripping a void inside her as she did. Caroline headed to the East Coast to live with some friends from collage, choosing to stay there even after she gave birth to her son Hindley Jayme, named after the character from Wuthering Hights which had for a long time been one of her favourite books. It was also possible that she’d subconsciously remembered from the one night they spent together that Gavin was into music, the song Wuthering Hights by Kate Bush being one of Carrie’s other favourite things, but it was also possible this was entirely a coincidence. 

Offered a well paying job as an event planner in a company run by a long time friend of her mother’s back in Aurora Bay the logical side of Caroline knew that she had to take it. It would allow for her to provide for her son easier, not to mention the guilt she’d been feeling over the last couple of years keeping the little boy from Gavin when he was almost a mini version of his father to look at, drove her back to the town. Getting them an apartment at Ocean Crest she holds the dream in her heart of being able to buy back the home she shared with her mom, but for now she was happy just trying to find her footing once more in the town she had called home for so long. 

Sweet, a little nervous, pedantic, the kind of person who zones in on tiny details (which works well for her job but less well in her general life), Caroline is honestly the kind of person who is just trying to do her best. Trying to juggle being a first time single mom as well as working a full time job, while all the time not crumbling under the various life pressures that everyone has to deal with. Her son is the apple of her eye, there is no one Carrie dotes on more, but that also means she spends a lot of time worrying about him. However she is growing in confidence as a mom as time passes. A big reader, lover of baking, very type A in the way she chooses to work, you’ll never find her using the calendar on her phone, instead choosing always to use a paper diary to keep track of what was going on in her life. With Hindley at  nursery three mornings a week those are the times she’s using to rediscover who she is as a person outside of being a mother which is actually something she’s really enjoying. 

[unh0lyhum4n]

Do I want to be loved or do I just want to know how to love myself?

I can’t seem to stop beating this dead horse.

I think that growing up afab and watching Disney/Barbie movies growing up makes it especially hard (for me at least) to not be affected by heteronormative society and its expectations. from birth, and throughout our childhood, we are constantly expected to find the love of our life (male) and be content with that as our life goal until we are old enough to have kids and then that is the greatest thing we will ever do with our lives.

Like most gay kids I had crushes on fictional characters a lot of the times animated ones. But as I’ve gotten older, I realize my idea of what a crush was isn’t necessarily what everyone else thinks it is. Even when I thought I had crushes on people in school, no matter the grade it was always “I think you’re cool if we were friends then I would be cool and I think that’s cool” it was never “I think you are really attractive. I want to kiss/date you and hold your hand.”

Like I thought vidia and shego were beautiful! Still do! Hell, I swoon every time I see Rhea Ripley on TikTok. But that doesn’t mean that if given the chance in real life I would ever want to actually do anything romantic with any of these people fictional or not. I will make jokes with my friends all the time about how “she can kick me in my spleen, and I would thank her” or some other down bad funny comments like that. But it’s still just a joke. 

Or the whole concept of a celebrity hallpass baffles my mind. Most people have celebrity crushes, even if they are in a loving, committed relationship, but you’re telling me that with absolutely no consequences you could sleep with a person outside of your marriage and be able to live with yourself?? That’s wild to me.

Sorry, my initial point to this was going to be some deep ass thought-provoking sentences that I was wondering if anybody else could relate to: “Do I want to be loved or do I just want to know how to love myself?” Or “do I want to have sex with people or do I just want to not hate every aspect of my physical appearance?”

Essentially, my point is that I’m always still questioning my aroaceness. And I don’t know if it’s because I am still being affected by heteronormative expectations. Is it internalized aphobia? Maybe. But it’s something I’ve dealt with my whole life and now there’s words for it. Sometimes it’s funny though because I will question it after I see someone like Rhea Ripley and then I’m like there’s no way I could be aroace, she’s so beautiful!” But then I watched an episode of Gilmore girls with my mom (we’re still on season one) and I see how the couples are with each other and it makes me so uncomfortable.

I actually brought that up to my mom, essentially coming out to her I just didn’t use the words aroace. I told her that seeing couples on the TV kissing, hugging, going on dates, having sex, etc. makes me uncomfortable (always has) and that it is something I don’t want for myself. And she was totally OK with that! so I guess if I ever did use the labels coming out wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least as aroace.

But sometimes I will be sitting in my room alone with my thoughts, thinking how nice it would be if I had someone that cared about me and thought me so beautiful who wasn’t socially/contractually obligated to. But then I wonder, do I just want someone to take my pain away? Because that’s not wanting love as far as I’m concerned





[hockeygossipdaily]

https://www.tumblr.com/hockeygossipdaily/762416539614035968/how-the-fuck-do-all-those-hockey-players-get-crazy

I don’t think it’s any deeper than looks. I also dont really think it’s really “pussy drunk” either since the guys are always cheating. I’ve heard many people say that some players get into a relationship in order to improve their image and be taken more seriously. That whole concept baffles me. I like to think that shit people attract shit people. Yes, the women mentioned are problematic, but so are the men. They see nothing wrong with their partner’s behavior, or they choose to ignore it- which is worse.

Well your not wrong and you made good points. They do think that the nhl wants to see good wholesome relationships in the nhl regardless of what’s happened in closed doors *cough cough* McDavid cheating

Now let’s remember nothing is 100% and some of these guys actually do care about their s/o and are loyal. They just get drowned out by the other womanizers

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

[thefanficmonster]

Falling Faceless

@itsminniekat

Corpse Husband x Reader (female) 

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Some crushes don’t need anything visual to exist. Appearance is irrelevant when you know the true beauty of a soul and mind. Or basically, Reader and Corpse could not care less what the other looks like.

Requested: No

Y/N and Corpse have been friends ever since they began playing Among Us together. They were the ultimate power duo when imposters together, and each other’s angel guardians when both were crewmates. They had a silent pact to not kill the other if they were imposter and the other wasn’t. They promised not to snitch on each other. They had built a pretty steady system of a friendship.

But, as the whole lobby assumed, that friendship would only last a ‘just friendship’ for so long. The sarcastic comments progressively grew more flirtatious. Corpse got a lot more comfortable playing with people in the meantime, but it was obvious that he was a bit more tense whenever Y/N wasn’t there, which rarely happened. On Y/N’s part, the change was also apparent. She used to have to be begged to play Among Us. She didn’t understand the hype of the game, seeing as how the concept was old and just remade and redesigned. Now, after meeting Corpse, she began being the first in the lobby, often initiating the game herself, almost forgetting to invite anyone but Corpse in the process.

The Peanut Gallery, aka the rest of the players just stood aside and listened to the romantic comedy unfold in front of them. They had a title for it too: “Falling Faceless”. The term was formed after a lot of discussion in a discord call which Y/N and Corpse were not invited to.

Explanation: Falling Faceless - Falling in love with someone whose face you’ve never seen, therefore they’re faceless to you.

That’s one of the things her and Corpse had in common. They were both faceless to their audience. Y/N was a gamer and also helped out Jaiden, James and Adam with their animations every now and then. She covered songs and made remixes of existing tunes - all things she never had to reveal her face for.

Corpse was attracted almost immediately - like a moth to light. The faceless rep, the cool song remixes, sweet and kind personality, intelligence, positivity...he could go on. He never denied his feelings in front of himself but he was prepared to deny it to his grave in front of anyone else.

Y/N was different. Her attraction grew gradually. From the tiny details he remembered about her and brought up, to the jokes that never failed to make her laugh, she was just so whipped by him without even noticing. When the realization began to creep in, she was low-key terrified. She actually avoided playing Among Us for two full days just because she thought it would make her emotions cool down.

While he was ready to embrace his feelings, she was doing everything she could to push them away.

She threw herself into work, surprising her animators by finishing her animation parts far before the deadlines. Dropping a few covers a week and playing Among Us as little as she could without drawing any suspicion.

One day, in the middle of editing the footage of her playthrough of the game Neversong, her phone started blowing up with notifications. She had a strict ‘no texting while working’ rule, so she ignored it, turning the device on its screen and pushing it further than an arm’s reach away in case she got tempted.

She was doing a fairly good job blocking out the hurricane of notifications when her ringtone sliced through the bubble of focus she had built around herself. She straightened and reached for her phone, promising herself she wouldn’t take longer than necessary. 

That promise was thrown out the window the second she read the called ID. Corpse, written down as Lil Corpsy in her contacts, was calling.

“Have you watched the video yet?” he asked without even greeting her

Baffled, it took her about three seconds to reply, “What video?”

“So you haven’t.” He sighed, “My face reveal. Go watch it.”

The line went dead before she could even completely comprehend what he had said. Work all but forgotten, her finger tips hovered above the screen, hesitant about tapping the YouTube icon.

This isn’t right, Y/N. She told herself.

“Hey?” He picked up her call-back before the first ring was even over.   

“I still haven’t watched the video. But that can wait.“ She fussed, now up from her chair, pacing around her office. “I’m calling to tell you the most terrifying thing that has happened to me. I made a friend. He’s great. The most amazing human being ever. We make a great team. I love him. It took me a while to realize that I love love him. And it’s scary, cause it feels like I’m walking on thin ice of losing him if he finds out. Well, now he’s letting me on to what he looks like, I might as well let him on what my mess of a brain looks like. And now that I’ve done that, I also wanna mention that I’ve changed my mind. I’m not gonna watch the video. It will change nothing but his view count. I will still like him the same. So why bother watching him talk to a camera when I can listen to him talking to me, right?“ She breathed heavily and shakily, sinking to the floor despite having her chair to sit in. She was distressed and felt like the equivalent of a deflated balloon. But compared to the feeling of a balloon ready to explode, she was feeling great. “That was probably too fast to understand, but I’m not repeating it.”

The chuckle that reached her made her even more flustered, “There is no video, Y/N. I just needed you to go to my channel. But, I too have changed my mind.”

He hung up a second time, leaving her with mixed emotions. The uncertainty of weather she was just rejected or her feelings were being humored was killing her, bringing her to a brink of tearing up. Just as the first tear slid down her cheek, her phone rang. However, this time, the ringtone was different. It was a Facetime. From him.

Without realizing that this wasn’t going to be only his face reveal, but hers too, she picked up.

Suddenly, they were no longer falling faceless. They were just falling. Falling in each other’s eyes. Falling in love. Not all over again, but deeper. Deeper into the emotions that left them with no sleep. The emotions they both dealt so differently with.

“You were wrong, this will change something.” He spoke, “The girl in my dreams, the one I’ve been in love with since day one, is now not only a voice in my head. She’s real.”

“You’re real, too.” She chuckled, looking at the face she never thought she’d see. “This is real, isn’t it?”

“It’s always been real, Y/N. We just now have faces.” He laughed.

For the first time she not only heard, but saw the laugh, finding it as adorable as day one. 

[eclipsedpascal]

Making Daddy Proud

Stepdad!Duncan x Female Reader

After moving in with your estranged mother and her new husband, Duncan Shepherd, you started to grow very close to your new stepdad. The two of you had a great relationship and he was doing his best to be a good father figure for you, knowing you missed your dad so much. But there was a problem, you found yourself insanely attracted to him and were starting to notice little things indicating he might feel the same way.

Warnings: very inappropriate relationships, Stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, Cheating is ofc implied, 20+ year age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex (but I kinda imagined the reader to be on birth control so is okie😌) fingering (female receiving), choking, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving) and face fucking😃

Notes: Okie sooo I know some people will hate this fic and ofc I understand that, but if you do hate it then please don't send me any hate!! just don't read it🖤 anywayss I got dis ask saying "Concept: Stepdad Duncan x naive reader😉" nd omg i LOVE the whole concept of Stepdad!Duncan sm, like if you've been in the fandom for a while you'll probably know the fic "The Hand That Robs the Cradle" by Langdonsrapture nd that fic was my holy grail when it came out!! so you know I just had to go all out here nd get carried away writing it hehe:')

word count: 5.4k

���●●●●●●●

The opportunity to study political science at American University in Washington DC had been one you simply couldn’t pass up on, but unfortunately it meant moving away from your father to stay closer to campus grounds. You knew it was worth it in the long run, I mean you had been waiting on this chance for years and wanted to make your father proud, but you would miss him.

He was never home too much, always busy working, but he meant the world to you. It had been just the two of you for a long time now. Your mother had moved away once their divorce finalised 7 years ago, impulsively leaving you in his custody as she ran off and gallivanted around the world, meeting all sorts of interesting men she would tell you about.

Luckily for you, she had settled down with one of those interesting men in DC recently, and upon discovering your acceptance into the prestigious university she had offered you a place to stay whilst you studied.

It was a frightening move to make, but staying with your mother in DC had actually been pretty interesting. You hadn’t spent time with her in so long and it had been nice to catch up with her, I mean sure she had been a little distant, but that was expected with having not spent any real time with her in so long.

You were just grateful she had let you stay with her in the first place, thinking she would have probably preferred to be left alone with her new husband, Duncan Shepherd.

They had been married about four months when you moved in and from what you could see, things were going well; especially considering she had sprung the engagement on everyone pretty fast. You were just happy knowing she was happy.

Though you had only met the man in question once before moving in, he really seemed like a perfect partner. He didn’t have a single obvious flaw to him, but see that was the problem. He was completely flawless to you.

You had tried to find things you didn’t like about him, even just tiny things, thinking hating him would be far better than thinking of him the way had been, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to fault him. And the longer you stayed with them, the worse your little problem became.

You weren’t 100% sure of how old he was. You only knew he was in his early to mid forties. But being at least 20 years your senior, you knew he was definitely old enough to be fulfilling the role he was as your stepfather. It felt strange to have a new stepdad at the age of 20, (almost 21) but it was even stranger with you being so blindly attracted to him.

And it wasn’t even just his looks. Though, yes, they were quite the spectacle, it was more than that. He was confident and cocky, always knowing exactly what to do and say to make the people around him do whatever he wanted them to. He could make you laugh until your stomach was in cramps, and not just through telling dad jokes. Charisma rolled off of him in waves.

He was intuitive and crafty; smart to put in plainly. And his interests appeared to be more intellectually based than anything else, which was quite the opposite of your mother, so it baffled you as to how your mother had managed to snatch him up so easily in the first place.

Now it’s not that you were jealous, really. It was more that you didn’t understand how these two polar opposite personality’s had ended up colliding together in the manner that they had.

Whenever the three of you would sit and have an evening meal together, Duncan always made you feel welcomed in the conversation, which was a great comfort to both you and your mother, being the relationship you had was so strained. Because of this and the fact you both had quite a lot in common when it came to your interests, Duncan and you had become almost good friends in the small time that you had been living there.

It was obvious he was doing his best to be some kind of fatherly figure to you. knowing that you were missing your actual dad, he did his best to help you with the things he knew your dad usually would. Whether it was school work or just having someone to joke with from time to time. He was there.

Sometimes when he was there, though, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he felt something more too. Such as the moments where his stares would linger on your form for just a little too long, or the way he would sometimes fix your hair for you if it had strayed across your face the wrong way. Just small things he did that fatherly figures didn’t typically tend to do with their daughters; especially when his wife, your mother, was right there. Sure, she seemed oblivious to it, but you certainly weren’t.

●●●●●●●●

Taking your now lukewarm cup of coffee from the breakfast bar counter, you brought it to your lips and gulped the bitter liquid down, fighting viciously to stay alert. It was nearing 3am and you had been writing for hours. Concentrating was no longer your most favourable asset and your half lidded eyes were growing wearer by the minute, but you just had to finish this paper.

It was 17 percent of your grade and due in two weeks. A persuasive essay on propaganda within the current American political climate and you had been slowly working at it for weeks, but you knew if you left it hanging over your head any longer it would drive you insane.

Sitting back in the stool you resided on, you took quick solace in the many noises coming from the ajar kitchen window, listening to a low rumble of thunder, accompanied by the constant pitter patter of rain falling from the gloomy DC sky above. It had been hot and humid all week, eventually cultivating into large clouds that had now given in, spilling out showers for almost the entire day past.

You recalled all the time you’d spent by the pool with your mother and Duncan in the past week, enjoying the current heatwave by sunbathing next to it on one of the many loungers. The house was kind of set up like a hotel that way. With Duncan always needing to be prepared for any events he may have to hold for his company’s business associates or press, he had furnished the home with what was to the three of you, unnecessary seating and tableware; amongst other things.

You stirred, returning your eyes back to the last few lines you had written and attempted to go over them in your head, but quickly realised you couldn't even manage that without stumbling over them or jumbling the words up beyond comprehension.

Abruptly interrupting your confused stream of thought, was the kitchen door groaning open. So with a frown plastered to your face, you shot your head up to recognise the intruder. But your frown was quickly blown away at discovering that it was Duncan who had entered the balmy room, and he was in more glory than you had ever seen him.

You had seen his silhouette whilst he showered before. Having gone into his and your mother’s shared bedroom whilst searching for earrings, you had seen him through the whited out, frosted glass of the on-suit bathroom door. But this was something entirely different. This was him, stood in kitchen doorway with nothing on but his grey Calvin Klein boxers.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were still up.” He quirked a brow at you, wondering why you were still sat in the kitchen so late at night. You swallowed deeply at the sight of him. Your eyes magnetised to his body, dilating with such a sultry image before them. Pulling your eyes back up to his face, you hoped he hadn’t seen their little detour down to his crotch.

“Uhm.. i’m, uh.. w-working on an essay.” Fuck! He’ll definitely know how nervous you are now. You looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and cringing at your own attempt to speak. “It’s due in next week and I wanted to get it finished.” Okay that’s better, you thought. Maybe he’ll just think you’re just too tired to have a proper conversation or something.

“Oh, right,” he trailed off, looking you up and down a bit as he walked further into the room. You watched the back of his head as he opened the fringe, holding it open and scanning the contents of it. Deciding on a small bottle of water, he retrieved it from the middle shelf before closing the door and walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter from you.

He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he was practically undressed in front of you. Of course, you weren't complaining, but it was interesting. You tried to think of something else you could add to your open word document, wanting to distract yourself from his displayed body. But thinking as hard as you possibly could, your mind still brought you nothing.

You awkwardly pulled at the sleeve of your oversized ‘American University” sweater and hoisted it back up onto your shoulder. It had ridden down your arm whilst you were aggressively fiddling with your fingers - a nervous habit you had developed in your early teens. People would often point it out to you, but it was just one of those things you couldn’t stop doing.

There was a deafening silence stuffed between the two of you. So looking around the room, you tried to focus on anything in your line of vision that wasn’t him. It was just too hard seeing him like; his plump lips wrapped around the bottle’s mouth as he drank, his sleepy un-styled curls falling just above his perfectly manicured brows and wearing nothing but those fucking grey boxers. He was making it unbearably hard not to stare.

Deciding to speak, you cleared your throat. “So did you just wake up? Or could you not sleep?”

“Just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the most random shit.. and you know how your mom is, she snores a lot.” He chuckled. His eyes never leaving you, beginning to feel as if they were boring holes into your soul as you kept full eye contact with him.

“Yeah, that must get pretty annoying.” You nodded slowly, thinking about how many nights you had spent wide awake when you were younger, all due to her roaring, loud snores passing through the paper thin walls of your childhood home.

“It does.” A smile played on his lips, taking another swig of water before speaking again. “so what’s the essay about?”

“It’s that one I was telling you about a few weeks ago, if you remember. it’s a persuasive on propaganda within the current American political climate.” You reminded him of the conversation you had about it when he dropped you off to class one morning not too long ago. The two of you often carpooled together, with the University campus being so close to his office, it made for an easy drive on the days he was needed in.

You guys would listen to playlists together on the drive and make fun of each others music taste, that was when you weren’t too busy being amazed by how similar they could be.

“Are you struggling with it? I mean, it is getting pretty late now.” He turned to check the clock which hung on the wall behind him, then looked back at you questioningly.

Duncan was good at helping you with this kind of thing. He was extremely well versed in politics, with his family’s background and all. Your mom had told you he used to be very involved with the white house, saying when he was younger he even went to prison for a short time before president underwood had pardoned him.

“I just can’t concentrate, but I really need to get it done or it’ll stress me out.” You lifted your bare feet up onto the stool seat, your knees coming up to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. You were only wearing panties with the sweater, it being too hot to wear anything more.

“Can I come over and check it?” He closed his bottle of water, tightening the lid with his muscular arms as he spoke. You had almost forgot he wasn’t wearing much before he said this, but watching him screw the bottle cap on as he asked to could come round to your side of the counter? It had you weak for him all over again.

“Uh.. yeah, course.” He padded his bare feet over the white, tiled flooring towards you, placing the bottle down on the counter and moving behind you to read the most recent paragraphs you had written. His hand was stretched over to the other side of you, resting on the edge of the breakfast bar as the skin of his arm grazed across your back.

Even with you being sat on such a tall stool, he still managed to tower over you. His hight was usually intimidating as it was, but with the added factor of him being almost completely undressed it was even worse. A small waft of air blew his expensive cologne towards you, creeping past your nostrils and possessing your senses completely before you started to feel his breathe on your upper neck. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make your cunt start pulsating.

You were disgusted by yourself. He’s your mother’s husband! And your Stepdad! What the fuck was wrong with you? You could only imagine what people’s reactions would be if they knew of the truly sinful thoughts you had about him, and you hated yourself for it.

He was your type, yes. A rich, older man who wasn’t actually an asshole, and they were hard to come by, but that wasn’t relevant. You needed to control yourself. No matter how hard that may be.

“What you have so far is really good. Your argument is strong and as always with your work, it’s written well. You’re smart, Y/N. It’s impressive.” He humoured himself with a scoff, his voice interrupting your lewd thoughts.

You blushed at his compliment, hiding your face behind your knees slightly and looking up at him. “Thanks, Duncan.” You knew he was just trying to be a good dad figure to you, but you couldn’t help being attracted to the way he was so caring for you. Maybe it’s fucked up, but it’s not your fault all you need is an older man’s approval to become turned on.

“I mean it.” He looks so sincere as he talks to you. His face would be intimately close to yours if you hadn’t hidden it from him earlier. You notice his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes again. His stare no longer felt friendly, but more.. lustful. Were you crazy or was he really doing this?

Suddenly he looks away from you, moving his eyes back to the laptop’s screen. “Maybe you should just get some sleep. I know you said it’ll stress you out, but if you get some rest you’ll be able to get back into it tomorrow with better concentration.” He does his best to steer the conversation back to where is once was, reminding himself that you’re his fucking step daughter and that he has a beautiful wife sleeping just upstairs.

“I know that, its just..” You sighed, blinking up at him. You brought your legs back down you hang over the edge of the seat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was to you, wanting to do nothing more than to drape your arms behind his neck an-.

“Nope I won’t listen to it. From what I can see it’s an incredibly strong piece of work already, so just go get some sleep and come back to it in the morning, okay sweetheart?” He laughed a little, looking down at you again.

That nickname. Sweetheart. He called you it all the time and yet it always managed to take your breath away. But the thing is, he usually wasn’t this close to you when he did. So when you squeezed your legs together and bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to ease the overwhelming desire you felt for him in that moment, there was no way he hadn’t seen it.

You were frozen staring at him, his face static and unreadable. You hoped he didn't choose to shout at you for how repulsive your behaviour was, or maybe he would kick you out? Your mind began spiralling, wrapping itself in intricate knots as you held your breath, awaiting a reply from him.

“Do you like that? When I call you sweetheart.” His voice was deep, sultry and dripping with desire. Shock coursed through you. That was definitely not what you had expected him to say. He seemed even larger now, his confidence making you feel small in comparison as your mind scrabbled to find the words you were supposed to use in your current predicament, but it never found any.

"You like it when daddy gives you nicknames?” He moved his hand up and delicately grasped the skin where your neck met your jaw, his eyes half lidded with lust. Your heart was beating so fast now and your breathing had grown shallow. You were so lost for words, only able to whimper out a weak “yes” before looking down to his boxers, trying to avoid his eyes but still wanting him just as much as he now appeared to want you.

He lifted your chin and kissed you roughly, drinking in your lips as if you were the water he had ventured down stairs for all along; and you began to wonder if you perhaps were. Maybe you were what he had been craving, just as you had been craving him.

He pulled the stool closer to him with his spare hand, leading you to wrap your legs around his torso as you tangled your tiny fingers through his sleep rustled hair. It was passionate. His kiss was sloppy, yet perfectly executed as his tongue slipped past your lips to glide over your own. His greying stubble dug into your skin, burning it with pure contact.

You parted to breath; and for just a moment, though it felt like hours, you stared into each others eyes with a ferociously neither of you could nor wanted to tame.

He tuts. “You really shouldn’t drink so much coffee little one, it’s not good for you. And it’s all I can taste.” He couldn’t help but reprimand you for the little habit, he had just gotten so used to doing it over the past three months, and using it to tease you sounded even more appealing.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off when he lunged at you again, kissing you viciously. He began to move his hands all across your body, his fingertips grazing over every inch of you they possibly could as he started to undress you, pulling your oversized sweater above your head and taking handfuls of your breasts. He was kneading them, leaning down to kiss and suck on them whilst he watched you throw your head back, completely enthralled by him.

You were taken aback by how quick things had escalated, your sense of control had deteriorated far too rapidly and was ebbing away even further with each little kiss he left on your skin.

His large hand slid down to your panties, playing with the lacy bow that was centred on the waist band. He hovered his hand over your heat, cupping it and feeling just how sticky you had become for him. You let out a moan, all sense of wrong and right leaving you completely as you uttered a soft “Daddy” and ground your cunt into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right. So desperate for daddy.” He mused, ripping your thin underwear off and dropping it down onto the floor beneath you. Bringing his face to yours again, your noses bumped and leant on each other for some kind of purchase, the both of you watching his hand as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, gathering a fair amount of slick on them before pressing two inside you.

“Ahh!!” You let out a moan, it was louder than you expected and reminded you of what was really going on here. Having been too caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even thought about how being complete fucking naked with your step father between your legs would look if your mother had decided to come downstairs.

“Ah, ah, shh baby. We don’t wanna get now caught do we?” His breathe was hot on your lips, whispering as to not alert anyone. “So tight.”

You whispered back. “I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident- mmph!” You muffled your moan.

“That’s it. Who’s my good girl?” He lay a gentle peck on you lips, only stopping as to allow you to answer his question.

“I am daddy!! I’m your good girl!” You spoke with urgency, but did your best to keep the volume low, which was quite the struggle in between moans. Duncan could see this, so he pressed your lips together. Kissing you into a muffled silence.

You felt his spare hand on your neck, squeezing it just enough for you to still breathe okay when he pulled away from your mouth, moving his lips to the shell of your ear and biting the lobe. He murmured in your ear. “Do you know how hard it was, this week? Having to sit there next to your mom at the poolside and see you just lying there like that?! That fucking bikini. It took everything in me not to cum right there.”

His fingers were moving slowly, going in deep and curling up against your g spot, making you cry out and lean on his shoulder, biting it to keep yourself quiet. he started to rub your clit in hard circles. He was so experienced. It was mind-blowing.

“Would it have served you more pleasure to know, I only wore it for you?” It was true, you had only worn it for him and it had obviously worked. You certainly had his attention now. He growled at this, pulling his fingers out and slapping your cunt.

He yanked your neck closer to him, speaking down to you. “Just for that? Get on your fucking knees.” As soon as he let go of your throat you were climbing off the stool and onto the floor. The heat of the room, and of your acts too, made the marble tiling feel like ice pressed onto your flushed skin. But you didn't care.

You watched him pull his boxers down, cock springing free, adjacent to his stomach. Never having been with anyone of this size before, you had never seen a cock this big. You reached out and touched it, feeling just how hard he was. He hissed at the contact, looking down at you as you watched his facial expressions with wide eyes.

You played with it in your hand, stroking it with one and palming his balls with the other. He stroked his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring look as you licked the tip. The salty taste hit your tongue, making you crave his cock even more. So without another second going to waste, you took him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Ahh fuck!” You began bobbing your head, your eyes fixed on him as a groan left his lips. He was watching you intently, threading his fingers through your hair and onto your scalp to get a good grip on your head. You let your jaw go loose, knowing what he was about to do and preparing yourself for it.

He started thrusting his hips into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every shove. You had honestly impressed yourself, I mean you knew you gave good head, but taking a cock this big as it fucked into your throat was something to be proud of.

“Mmm that’s it sweetheart.” Your stomach fluttered at his approval. The gagging noises you were making giving him even more pleasure. “You just wanna make daddy proud, don’t you princess?” You mumbled a wet “yes daddy” around his cock, sending sweet vibrations through it as he pushed himself as far as he could into your throat.

You couldn't even fathom how this was happening. You had pictured this moment late at night with a vibe pressed to your clit far too many times to count, so it finally happening was something hard to comprehend. Somehow he looked even more handsome from down on your knees than you had ever imagined he would. His stubble contouring his face perfectly with the ‘o’ his lips were forming.

Suddenly pulling you off of him, you gasped out for oxygen and tried to wipe away some of the saliva dribbling down your chin. It was like a snapshot from one of Duncan’s wet dreams. You looked so incredibly fucked out. He thought it was beautiful.

“Come on little one, stand up. Daddy wants to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You moaned as he talked down to you, stroking his calloused thumb over your bottom lip and pulling it down just to watch it bounce back up again.

You stood up, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders like you had wanted to all this time. He pulled you in for a kiss, one much slower than the rest, communicating something more to you than just pure sexual carnality. His embrace was comforting, making you feel protected and small in his arms.

His hands grabbed at your ass as he picked you up, sitting you back down onto the bar stool and adjusting the hight while his lips stayed connected to yours. Once the seat was low enough for his liking, he picked up your thighs, shelving them onto his hips and laying you back just enough so that you could lean on the backrest.

The room was sweltering, your body hot against his and anticipating having him buried inside you was getting too much to handle. He dragged his cock through your lips, teasing your clit and moving back down to almost enter you, but he never would. Just wanting to get you all worked up and loving the way you would squirm when he did.

“Daddy.. please.” You steadied yourself by holding on to the sides of the seat, hoping he would end his tournament and fuck you already.

He slid the head barely into you. “Hmm… Since you were so polite, suppose daddy should reward you.” He spoke calmly before snarling and stuffing himself into you, pushing as deeply as he physically could. He felt your walls clamp around him as he set his pace. It was a lot. Having never taken a cock this big and the fact he didn’t even let you adjust, you couldn’t help but wail out.

He shot his hand up to cover your mouth, needing to keep you quiet and seeing you clearly couldn’t do it yourself. “Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy now, would you baby?” you attempted to utter a “No daddy”, but his hand kept your lips glued shut.

He fucked you. Like really really fucked you. He was making the stool shuffle underneath you, the powerfulness of his thrusts causing you to slide down in the seat. The only reason you didn’t slip off completely being the barbarian hold he had on your hips.

It actually surprised you how rough he was. A pleasant surprise, of course, but he had been so delicately caring towards you since becoming your step father and now here you were, receiving the best of both worlds.

The closer you grew to your high, the more incoherent your thoughts became. His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips trembling as he picked you up off the seat and held you closer to him. Supporting your ass, his hips ricocheted up and off yours as he tried desperately not to yell out.

His thumb was brought back down to your clit as he pressed you up against him, swiping at it hellishly, trying to hurry up your release upon feeling your legs begin to quiver; and knowing his own was approaching rapidly.

“That’s it sweetheart, come around daddy’s cock… Gonna cum so fucking deep inside your cunt. Would you like that?” You could see a thin line of perspiration cascading down his cheekbone, he was almost breathless and his thrusts were messier now.

“Yes da-AHH!“ you whipped a hand up to your face, holding your mouth shut as you came. You dug the hand you had placed on his shoulder deep into his skin and was quickly reminded of his marriage to your mother. You hoped you hadn't left any nail indents she might see.

You felt his hot seed spurt onto your walls as he rested his head on yours, mouth open wide and letting out a silent groan. His release was long and powerful. The both of you were left panting, the only noise in the room being your own breaths and a small creak from the stool when he softly set you down onto it.

He pulled out, your mixed juices gushing out of you along with the sexual haze you had been overcome with. The severity of what you had just done began to settle in. His head still resting on yours as you started freaking out, contemplating what would happen if your mother was to ever find out what had just occurred.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing his comfort and squeezing him in an urgent hug, which he returned. his fingers stroked the sweaty skin of your back, trying to ease the thoughts he too had running through his mind. He lifted your chin up, the look he had in his eyes telling you everything would be okay.

Kissing you cautiously, he savoured the feeling of your lips on his and prayed he would get a chance to feel them again. “Are you okay?” He whispered

You didn’t really know if you were. On one hand, that was something you had wanted for a long time and it had been far better than you ever imagined, but on the other you had just helped your stepfather cheat on your mother. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He stood up, grabbing your sweater and panties, handing them to you before putting his boxers back on. “Well, at least that paper won’t seem like such big problem now.” He chuckled, doing his best to find humour in a humourless situation.

You giggled a little, hurrying to throw on your sweater and being reminded of how he had ruined your panties. “True. Now this can hang over my head instead.” You wiped any left over salvia you had on your face onto your sleeve and thought about how you would probably need to shower after this. “At least the sex was worth it, right?”

He sent you a dark smirk, picking up his bottle of water and walking towards the kitchen door. “It was. hopefully it'll be just as good next time too.” You opened your mouth, faking shock at his confidence as you watched him open the door.

“Goodnight Y/N” He gave you one last look as he sauntered through the door, getting ready to close it behind him and leave you alone in the kitchen with no one but your thoughts. The thoughts of your acts. Remembering all the little moments you had just shared together.

In that last moment before he left, you struck eye contact with him, chewing your inner lip and speaking.

“Goodnight, daddy.”

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Thank you sm for reading!🥺🖤

Tags: @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby i'm so so sorry if you don't like this kinda fic or it has triggered you in anyway, but just let me know if it has and I won't tag you in this kind of thing ever again! You can also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list too:)