#it’s like this messed up thing where he’s a doting stay at home ‘rent like Liane

[victimized-martyr]

4, 20, 33 for the asks if you'd like

4. Is kyle a hypocrite? 

YES wtf this shouldn’t be a question this is fact. Like this ain’t up to opinion, this is baked into the show. (s6) He lectures to open air about the immorality of sensationalizing conditions and deformities yet within 5 minutes does not hesitate to guilt Butters into faking a condition worth sensationalizing just so he Stan and Cartman can golf. (s16) Butters’ breakdown abt Kyle “ You just think you know everything, don't you Kyle?! Every little thing you gotta shoot your mouth off like you're the frickin' expert!” that’s so raw dude. It’s so real. These are the only two moments that pop off the top of my head but I’m certain there are more examples of Kyle bein a hypocrite. Not only is he a hypocrite, he can be a self righteous asshole.

20. Name what jobs the main 4 will have when they grow up

Nooo nuh uh nope I can’t answer that in confidence. The careers I’d tailor to these lil dudes are based on where their characters are at the moment and within a season’s notice Mattrey’ll be out here taking these characters into different directions and evolving them and it’d wipe my hard work off the table 😭

Ceo vs Repairman Cartman was Cartman’s definitive future 10+ years ago. Rabbi vs Homeless are the more likely futures Cartman faces now. Absolutely no one saw Kenny becoming a nobel prize winning scientist and philanthropist yet here we are.

As much as I love speculating based on what canon gives us, I gotta give this to Trey and wipe my hands clean.

33. Which SP character would be your SBF?

Kenny, but I say this bc my irl bestie identifies most with Kenny. so 👯‍♀️

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜:

𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor trying to romanticize yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warning: Mentions of toxic relationship, yandere behavior, self harm, sexual scenes, guilt tripping, gas lighting and other forms of mental manipulation are contained within this post. Read at your own discretion.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟾𝟼 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟼'𝟷 𝙵𝚝

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■□□□40%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□80%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙻𝚘𝚠

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

• 𝙸𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 .

•𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

•𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

• 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕/ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍.

•𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏- 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Normal Yunho at first seems like your average guy. He's very sweet, caring, playful and his close, and very few, friends he has would say that he's full of energy and smiles.

He just radiates this sunshine personality that draws people to him, although they may not stay very long.

He met you through mutual friends and acted the same as he did with others.

Albeit it's true, he was very affectionate towards you from the start, which both surprised and didn't surprise his friends.

But that doesn't mean he felt love at first sight with you.

Yunho isn't one to get overly attached right away.....yet.

It happened gradually.

He became attracted to your confident, strong and bold nature, all traits which he lacked in.

But no one knows that because he's good at hiding it.

You were also a very compassionate and empathetic person, which sealed the deal for him.

He admired you from afar, not wanting to get close to you just yet.

However, he'd get pouty and insecure whenever another man would show intentions of wanting to get close to you.

He'd whine often about it and that's how you found out he had feelings for you.

You thought it was cute, that he was cute.

So you were the one who took the first step to start a relationship.

Although shocked, Yunho was extremely happy.

As a boyfriend, he is very devoted to you, putting you above everything else, including his friends, family and health.

Everything moves really fast with him. Example:you had your first kiss on your first date.

Yunho just doesn't see why you have to wait if you two love each other.

"I feel like I've known you my whole life."

Not even 3 months later and you were already sleeping together.

Yunho sees that was the moment he went to heaven......

And that was the moment when hell started.

Yunho started becoming more and more clingy.

Texting, calling you at odd hours, asking you things like where you were, what were you doing, who you were with and if he could go see you.

He usually makes you stay till very late at his place that you have to spend the night with him.

No other option. He insists.

Even keeps spare clothes for you in a drawer he set aside just for you.

Till one day: "Why don't you just move in with me? It'll be so much easier and I could see you even more."

You hesitated, since you were barely 6 months into the relationship and you already felt smothered by his constant presence.

"I don't.... I don't know Yunho.."

He panicked at your hesitation.

"Why...why not? Don't you love me? Is it because you don't want to be around me?"

You began calming him down, trying to explain that maybe things were going to fast, but that only made him get more agitated.

It was truly terrifying for you to see him hyperventilating and choking on his own breathing like that.

Hot tears were falling rapidly down his face as he began saying:

"Why don't you love me? Is it something I did? What am I doing wrong? Tell me!"

"Yunho you did nothing wrong. You're perfect the way you are and I love you just the way you are."

He sniffled and wiped his nose on one of his sweater paws.

"Do you love me? R-really?"

You nodded your head in confirmation. But Yunho was still sulky about something.

"But then.... wha-why not move in? I p-promise you'll like it."

He looked at you with such fragile and tender eyes that you could not refuse him. So you agreed to move in with him.

Biggest mistake you made.

Even though he had his eye on you for most of the day, it wasn't enough for him.

If you were even 3 minutes home later than usual, he was badgering you with questions like:

"Who were you with? What took you so long?"

And you're like "Geez. Let me breathe."

Don't say things like that to him. He starts feeling bad and responds with things like:

"I know I'm sorry, I'm such a pathetic excuse of a boyfriend."

It honestly broke your heart to hear him say such things.

But it also irritated you how jealous he got when you hung out or even talked to another man that wasn't him.

He'd latched onto you in public if he felt you were paying more attention than he liked to another guy.

Sometimes would cause a scene that made you run back home in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry! I just can't help it! Don't you get it?! They're trying to take you away from me!"

"No! You're just an overly possessive and overly jealous boyfriend and I can't stand it anymore! I'm leaving."

"Wait what?"

Yunho watched in horror as you began packing a small bag so you could spend the night somewhere else, and pick up the rest of your stuff later.

All throughout that, Yunho begged, cried and went ballistic.

He repeated for you not to go, not to leave him.

"Y/N you don't understand....you can't leave me... I'll die, I can't live without you.."

You merely rolled your eyes at that. No one dies of a broken heart.

So you just walked out the door and rented a hotel room for the night, unaware of the mess you were about to wake up to.

You woke up bombarded by texts and missed calls from Yunho's friends:

"What did you do to him?!" "You heartless bitch!" "I hope you die if anything happens to him!" "All he did was love you and you destroyed him."

Then the hospital called you: Yunho had tried to kill himself in the night.

Your heart stopped when you found out. You felt so guilty and you felt like a monster.

Without thinking twice, you ran to the hospital to see him.

He layed there, still unconscious from the medication they gave him to calm him down.

You stayed by his side, praying that he'd wake up soon so you could apologize.

He woke up and although he looked surprise to see you....he was only feigning.

Of course you'd go out of your way to see him.

You were bawling your eyes out and holding him close, scared out of your wits at the thought that you almost lost the love of your life.

Yunho apologized, but you hushed him with a kiss, saying it wasn't his fault.

From then on, you began blaming yourself for everything....

And he made sure to remind you not to test him again.

You thought that after that talk, everything would be back to normal and you two could be a regular couple.

How stupid you were.

Life with Yunho now was like walking on thin ice all the time.

You couldn't mention anything about him that made you slightly uncomfortable because he's belittling himself with such foul words, crying to the point of hysteria....

But the worst times are when he's banging his head on a wall hard enough to draw blood, or punching the concrete wall so hard that his knuckles end up bloody and bruised.

You have a heart attack whenever that happens.

You've been so traumatized by his previous suicide attempt that any harm he does to himself sends you in a panic and you're holding him to you, comforting him and reminding him that you love him and won't ever leave him.

Then happy Yunho is back, as if nothing happened.

And he always wants you to reaffirm your love after such ordeals in the bedroom.

Yunho never ever fucks you, no matter how messed up he is.

He likes to take his time with you, going down on you or teasing you with his long fingers before he's thrusting his cock deep inside you.

Always cums inside you, always. With no protection.

It's a reminder that you belong to him and him only.

And also because he knows there's a possibility he could get you pregnant.

Which is what he wants.

If you two have a child together, it would only strengthen the bond you two have and it's another reason to tie you down to him.

And that's exactly what happened.

You were terrified and tried to conceal it for the longest time, but Yunho isn't dumb.

He was elated when he found out you were carrying his child inside of you.

Which only prompted his obsessive nature to escalate.

He made you quit your job because he wanted you to stay home to take care of your baby.

Of course, that's just an excuse to keep you from leaving the house.

You two also officially got marriage, and that was it for Yunho.

He finally succeeded in bounding you two together for life.

As a father, he doesn't mind sharing you with your new baby daughter.

He loves and adores his daughter very dearly because she is a physical manifestation of the love between him and you.

But she's the only child you two are having. There's only so many people he's willing to share you with.

To others, he's a doting and loving father and husband.

In the eyes of an outsider, you guys are the perfect family.

But you.....you stopped fighting a long time ago.

You resigned yourself to accept that this is your life now and you'd better make the best of it.

You're no longer the strong, confident and decisive woman you once were.

Yunho made sure to tear that all down to the point where you simply just act in a way that'll make him happy and won't trigger him to repeat what happened years ago...

Especially not in front of your daughter. You do not want her to experience what you did.

So the question remains.....how do you escape Yandere Yunho?

Well....... you have two choices:

Either spend the rest of your life playing into his façade of a perfect relationship, that's the easier choice.

It certainly spares you the mental, emotional and physical strain of fearing when his next suicide attempt might happen if you do anything that'll result in him degrading himself or guilt tripping you into staying with him.

Or..........kill yourself. But keep in mind that if you do, he won't be too far behind from you. In the words of Yandere! Yunho himself:

"Nothing will ever break our bond, our bond is forever. Even in death, our love will go on."

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 20

Summary:Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 20: Chava Solomons has a troubling first day in the world. 

            In the very first moments of Chava Solomons’s life, she was cradled to her father’s chest. He used one arm to hold her snug to him. His other hand was holding her mother’s limp hand.

            The room was loud, louder than she could cry. The woman who delivered her was doing her best to stem the bleeding. The only thing they could do until the doctor arrived.

            Julia repeated prayer after prayer over her niece, begging her to be okay. They remained this way until Doctor Isaac Marsh arrived. Hanna explained what happened and the experienced doctor got to work. But not before he urged Alfie and Julia to wait downstairs.

            Alfie was going to kick off, saying he had every right to stay beside his wife, but Hanna managed to get him to leave.

            “I want to finish checking her over.” Hanna gently removed Chava from his arms and led Alfie and Julia downstairs.

            But Julia’s legs gave in halfway down the stairs. She clutched her handkerchief to her chest with a grief-stricken sob.

            Alfie had never seen the woman so distraught before. She always held a steady measure about her. He’d seen her upset but mostly because she was angry with him. He had never seen her vulnerable. Just as she had never seen him vulnerable.

            He felt in a daze as he helped her up. His daughter was crying downstairs as his wife bled upstairs. Still, he was the man of the house. He had to keep everything together as long as he was still breathing.

            “I can’t lose her, Alfie. She’s everything to me.” Julia cried weakly.

            “I know.” He helped her back to her feet and supported her down the rest of the steps. “We ain’t gonna lose her. She’ll be alright. She’s resilient.” He assured her.

            As Hanna made sure Chava was healthy, Alfie got Julia settled into an armchair. Only Richard and Elizabeth had stayed the length of the labor. The other family members had gone home to wait for the call that the baby had been born.

            Richard came out of the kitchen when he heard their footsteps. “Why is the doctor here?” He asked Alfie, following him into the parlor.

            “Alfie?” Elizabeth called from the kitchen. “Alfie, what’s going on?”

            “Caroline’s bleeding bad.” He explained as best he could without losing his nerve. It reminded him of all the times he had to be the man of the house, the protector. When his father abandoned them, Alfie had to hold everything together. When rent was due, when there was damp in the flat, when there just wasn’t enough food to be had, he had to keep calm for the sake of his mother. He had to keep breathing or the roof would come crashing down.

            “Will she be okay?” Richard asked as his wife came out of the kitchen with Buck.

            “I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Alfie couldn’t block out Julia’s tearful prayers. He heard her offer anything and everything to God, just as long as He didn’t take her Caroline. Alfie knew he would do the same if given the chance. There wasn’t much of a debate in his eyes about whose life was worth more. A lovely, compassionate, kind woman was worth far more than he ever would be. He’d give everything to know she would be okay.

            Elizabeth clapped a hand to her mouth in shock. She found her husband’s hand and gripped it tightly.

            “It’s alright.” He assured her and kissed her temple. “Doctor Marsh is a very respectable doctor.”

            “What about the baby?” Elizbeth asked with a hint of dread.

            “She’s healthy,” Alfie reported. “Hanna will bring her out in a moment.” His heart ached. The first moments of his daughter’s life were supposed to be a joyous occasion. But he had to spend them worrying over his wife. He almost felt guilty because she deserved to be doted on in her first hours, to be held by her mother, and adored by relatives. Instead, she was fussing in the arms of the midwife who tried to soothe her.

            “Alfie, come take her.” Hanna came out with the wriggling bundle. “Maybe she’ll take to you a bit better.”

            Alfie highly doubted it but took Chava in his arms. He was so overwhelmed that he had to step away from everyone, taking his daughter into his study. He shooed the dogs out of the room before he sat down.

            Chava whined and whimpered but she began to settle as he laid her against his chest, resting her head near his heart.

            It was the first time he really got a good look at her. She was so much smaller than he expected. Everything about her didn’t seem real. Her tiny little fingers and button nose. But she certainly looked like him when she scrunched up her face as she tried to settle in his arms. She had a downy bit of hair that was already a fiery auburn color. She was absolutely perfect. Alfie was a bit hesitant on the idea of love at first sight. Of course, he fell for Caroline pretty quickly. But the instant connection he felt to Chava was indescribable. He felt the unwavering need to protect her.

            “That’s it, I know.” He soothed in a soft voice. “I know you’d rather have mum holding you, yeah, but you’ve got me for the time being. Ain’t so bad, aye? Better than being stuck in mum’s belly, right?” But he could hardly even smile. He wouldn’t be complete until his Caroline was back in his arms again.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

            It felt like a lifetime waiting for Dr. Marsh to come back downstairs. He was met with an anxious family.

            “She’s awake and recovering. The bleeding was a bit more than we’d usually see during delivery but there don’t seem to be any more complications that I can see. I would ask that she have another check-up in a couple of days to make sure.”

            Relief washed over everyone. Julia praised God and wiped her tears from her eyes.

            “Mr. Solomons, she asked to see you and your daughter alone for now.”

            Alfie nodded and brought Chava upstairs. Nudging open the door with his hip, he was so happy to see Caroline awake again.

            “Ya know, someone’s been very impatient to meet you.” He said and sat down on the edge of the bed.

            “Oh, Alfie, is she okay?” After waking up from fainting, Caroline was in quite a state. She was terrified she had lost the baby.

            “She’s perfect, love.” He gently placed Chava in her arms.

            Caroline held back her tears as best she could. The warm bundle in her arms moved about slightly. She made a soft cooing sound and a little hand touched her arm.

            “I was so fucking worried,” Alfie whispered. “I thought I’d lost you-” His voice stuck in his throat.

            “Alfie…”

            “Just stay here with us, please.” He begged quietly. “I ain’t ready to lose you.”

            “I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~` 

            Julia stayed with the new parents for a week after the chaotic birth. They all went to Letwin to have some peace and quiet. Meanwhile, Julia assisted with what they needed and to help them both acclimate. After all, there would be things Alfie needed to help Caroline with. Things he had little to no experience of doing. Things like changing nappies and giving baths.

            Alfie thought it was remarkable of Caroline’s aunt to be so patient with them. It certainly wasn’t easy teaching anyone how to be a parent. And Alfie felt utterly incompetent. Caroline seemed much more confident. She got nursing down in a second and was arguably better at nappy changing than Alfie was.

            But Julia reassured them that they were both doing wonderful for first-time parents. She had been hesitant, knowing that Caroline would be having a child with such a notorious figure in the community. Someone who was known for violence and other unsavory things. But when she saw Alfie holding his daughter, she had little doubt that he would be a suitable father.

            One afternoon, Caroline was taking a much-deserved nap. When she awoke, she heard gentle splashing coming from the master bathroom. She got up and tied a robe around herself before going in.

            Alfie was knelt by the tub where he was supporting Chava in a smaller basin filled with water. He heard Caroline get up and smiled. “Well-rested?”

            “Very much so. Thank you for watching her.”

            “Just giving her a wash now, Julia just went downstairs to get a softer cloth.” He trickled some of the warm water over Chava’s hair.

            Caroline knelt down and found her daughter’s tiny little hand. “Is that my little Chavaleh? Is papa giving you a bath?”

            The baby blew bubbles and wrapped her hand around her mother’s fingers.

            “I swear, she’s got that same dimple you do. Right to the left of your lips. Julia says she won’t smile for a bit, but when she’s yawning, I thought I could see it there.” Alfie said. He marveled at how small Chava was and the little things she did. How she stretched and kicked her feet. The little expressions that she made when she was hungry or tired. Everything was so new to him and it felt like such a fresh breath of air. He wasn’t hunkered down at the bakery doing the same old shit day after day. It was something so exciting yet terrifying. It was a similar feeling to when he first started seeing Caroline. He was thrilled but so scared he’d mess it all up.

            But there was his wife, ready to assure him. “You’re so good with her.” Caroline murmured and leaned into his side.

            “Be honest, I don’t what the fuck I’m doing. But I figure s’long as she’s happy, that’s something.” He chuckled.

            “It’s instinct.” She agreed. “But she loves you already, I can tell.”        

            Alfie smiled. “Yeah, she knows she’ll have me wrapped ‘round her pinky finger in no time.”

            “You already are wrapped around her finger.” Caroline teased and kissed his cheek.

            “Well, then I’m really fucked, right. ‘Cause she’ll be smart, won’t she? Fucking smart enough to know that I won’t be able to say no to her. Grown up spoiled. ‘Papa, can I have a pony? Papa, can we go to Italy and France and America? Papa, can I have a car?’ And I won’t be able to say no, ‘cause she’s me little girl, ain’t she? Just like her mother, can’t say no to her.”  

            Caroline laughed. “Then I suppose you ought to put some money aside for her because if she’s anything like her father, she’ll have a taste for expensive jewelry.”

            Alfie groaned. “You’re right. Or maybe, she’ll be a bit more humble like her mum? What d’you think?”         

            She rested her cheek on his shoulder, letting Chava hold her fingers. “I suppose only time will tell. But I can’t wait for every moment of it.”

            He was going to make a quip about smelly nappies or crying in the middle of the night but he realized he’d be lying if he wasn’t looking forward to every moment of it too.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​

Tag list: @zazasblogxx​ @thinkingsofamadwoman​ @deaflikehawkeye​ @bellarkebxtch​ @evelynshelby​

Masterlist

[quaylinsims]

True to his word, Henry had the coach driver stop in a town on the way to his cousin's house. At first glance, it was super cute and historic. Everything looked to be from around the Civil War era. Much like Henry's suit and the stagecoach and the "roads" and...

Henry bought a newspaper and asked where one could go to find a pre-made dress for a little girl. He was directed to a corner shop. When we got there, I looked out and noticed the dresses and everything else were also from the 19th century. Henry's newspaper said 1850.

My heart began racing, and my head began pounding. Thoughts started flashing through my mind: How did I end up in 1850? That shouldn't be remotely possible! How do I get home? Can I get home? Do they have plumbing? Does my family know I'm gone? I hate those ruffly hoops skirts. How do I live in an era where women can't even vote? Does my family think I'm dead? Will I ever get home?

I started hyperventilating. Henry patiently waited for me to calm down, and I knew he had no idea how to help. Still, he tried. He put a cautious hand on my back and rubbed it slowly, gently.

Think! Think! One thing at a time! I need to wear clothes. This man is helping me. One thing at a time.

I slowly regained my composure and let Henry know I was ready to go.

Inside, the shop was very girly. The man behind the counter greeted Henry, who in turn said he needed to buy me a few dresses.

A few? Wow.

The man finally looked at me in my tent, his eyes widening. He quickly glanced back at Henry as if to size him up, but the latter was calm as ever.

Soon, I was trying on dresses.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields .s book, and Henry gave him some money.

"I really appreciate this, Henry," I said when we were back in the coach.

"Mr. Baldwin."

"What?"

He sighed.

"It is inappropriate for a young girl to call a man by his first name. Honestly, child, did no one teach you manners?"

Shit. I really messed that one up. That's right. 19th century. I have to be proper. I've read a lot of period novels and watched a lot of period tv. Thank you, Bridgerton. I can do that.

"Apologies, Mr. Baldwin," I correct. "I can do better. Your generosity is deeply appreciated."

I even bowed my head a little and offered a sheepish smile. He looked stunned at my reversal.

"That is much improved," he said. "Now then, Miss Swan, we will be going to my cousin's house. He is Mr. Tobias Nickelby. He has many... people in his... employ... I trust you will be well-behaved?"

"Of course, Mr. Baldwin."

He nodded and fell silent, reading his newspaper. I recalled some genealogical research I had done and the newspapers I had searched for obituaries. They published a lot of local social news, like who was passing through, who was visiting whom, whether my grandparents' homing pigeons made it back to Cleveland. I smiled and quietly chuckled to myself at the memory. I wondered what was in this newspaper.

We had to stay in an inn that night. We weren't far from Mr. Baldwin's cousin's house, but it was too far to venture further in the night. He rented me my own room for my privacy. I was grateful. It did not take me long to fall asleep, what with the eventful day and all.

We were back on the road in the early morning, eating breakfast at dawn and heading out of town. By noon, we were almost there.

"Now remember, Miss Swan, you are to call my cousin Mr. Nickelby."

"Yes, of course, sir."

He smiled.

We took a turn east. Thick trees on the right, vast fields on the left. There were men and women out working in the fields, wielding tools and carrying baskets.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields and we turned down the long driveway.

To call Mr. Nickelby's home a house was an understatement. It was a lovely mansion. Lovely until I got a closer look around me. All the workers wore tattered clothes, and none was white. Except for the odd fellow here or there just standing around barking at the others.

I wanted to cry. This was the past. I knew that. This was 1850. Of course slavery was still a thing. But to see it...

"I don't want to be here!"

Mr. Baldwin quickly turned his head at my outburst.

"I can't!"

"What ever is the matter with you?"

Mr. Baldwin sounded more surprised than upset.

"Th-this," I stammered, tears beginning to fall. "This is-isn't ri-ight!"

He looked out as we neared the plantation house's front.

"You are not wrong, child," he nearly whispered. "But we must be respectful of our host."

I wasn't sure if I could do that. I shook my head.

"How is your imagination? Can you pretend they are not there?"

I must have given him quite the stare because he looked back at me with shock.

"Remember your manners."

His tone was almost scolding, but before I could say anything, he was hopping out of the coach.

Mr. Nickelby -- whose formal name I use out of respect for Mr. Baldwin, not the vile filth that owned humans -- greeted his cousin with a roaring "Welcome!" Mr. Baldwin gestured to the coach, and said something about me. The former waved a greeting in my direction and escorted Mr. Baldwin inside.

I had to leave the coach.

I stepped foot onto a working plantation, and I shuddered. I knew from school and documentaries and movies how frighteningly awful they could be. I looked around for something that didn't seem tainted by malevolence, and I saw a small tombstone under a tree.

"That there was Mrs. Nickelby's favorite tree," said a voice behind me.

I turned to find a beautiful woman in a yellow dress and an apron standing about four feet away. I could just make out a scar on her left brow under her hair and a tattoo on her right wrist. She caught me staring at it.

"Come, Miss. There is a room for you."

She led me upstairs to a very frilly room.

"Thank you," I said, my voice catching in my throat.

I caught sight of her tattoo again. I knew it was a brand. I wanted to cry again.

"I am so, so sorry," I say, trying not sob.

"I'm surprised you care, Miss. If I may say so."

"Of course you may. And I promise you: this will all end one day."

She gave me one of those looks adults give children when they've said something so innocent that their naivity is both adorable and sad. I knew this look; I'd given it to my nephews. It broke my heart that she didn't have that hope.

I did not go down to dinner that night. For the next three days, Mr. Nickelby entertained Mr. Baldwin, and I ate what little I could in my room. I never met his daughter, and she never tried to introduce herself to me. Though I understood we were about the "same" age.

Finally, Mr. Baldwin knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He entered, took one look at my I-just-finished-ugly-crying face, and frowned.

"What has you so upset, child?"

I couldn't talk about how I was stuck 171 years before my "present" and so far removed from those I cared for, but I felt I could possibly mention the horrors I knew about and even had seen from my window. I took a deep breath.

"I hate this place," I admitted. "Enslaving humans beings, it's just so wrong!"

He pulled the chair from the corner to the side of the bed.

"Just yesterday, I saw an overseer whip a man so violently that--"

I had to pause. I didn't think I had more in me.

"It was awful. The crack of the whip. The blood. I could tell what it was even at night."

I buried my face in my hands and tried some deep breathing exercises.

"I am sorry, Miss Swan. No child should have to see that."

I looked up at Mr. Baldwin.

"No human should have to endure that," I answered.

My tone was harsher than I would have liked it to be, but Mr. Baldwin didn't show any shock or disppointment.

"Well, we will be leaving in the morning," he said, rising from the chair. "Hopefully you will feel better once we are on our way."

Through the lens of the 21st century, it nearly enraged me that he wasn't more upset by things. Everywhere I looked, everything I saw reminded me that I was in 1850, yet I could not wrap my head around what I knew to be an ass-backward, hateful, ignorant way of life.

It was somewhat of a relief that Mr. Baldwin at least also disagreed with what those in the south were doing.

It took two weeks to get to Philadelphia. I was relieved to be in the North. I was just about to ask Mr. Baldwin if I would be staying with him.

"I have written ahead to a cousin of mine here in Philadelphia," he told me over breakfast. "She is a teacher at a school for girls, and I have secured you a room there."

I was stunned.

"Do not leave your mouth hanging open, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Baldwin. I'm just surprised."

"Why? You can read. You are an intelligent girl. Why shouldn't you go to school?"

Well, I can't disagree. I've always loved school, but it's a little elementary for me, my dear Baldwin. I do have advanced degrees.

"You are always so generous, Mr. Baldwin. I wish I deserved it."

"I will leave you with an allowance, and I will send more regularly."

I was speechless. This sort of kindness always made me feel uncomfortable, and I couldn't understand why anyone would want to dote on me.

"Why are you so kind to me, Mr. Baldwin?" I asked quietly.

He smiled and placed his napkin on the table.

"Come, I want to make a stop first."

The stop, it turned out, was for me. Mr. Baldwin took me to a bookstore on our way to the school and told me to pick out anything I wanted. Of course, the books I really wanted to read weren't out yet. But I found a few.

"This may be the most generous thing you've done for me yet," I smiled.

"I'm glad you're happy," he he said with a chuckle. "We are near the school, so you can always come back here."

"Oh, I will."

I wondered about the possibility of somehow getting home and bringing some mint condition first editions with me.

He wasn't wrong; the school was very close. His cousin, much nicer to look at and not a slaver, welcomed us in. She was warm and comforting, not unlike Mr. Baldwin. He left as night fell.

She showed me to my room, which I would share with another girl, Anne. Anne was quiet and very hard to get to know; she mostly ignored me. When I wasn't in class, I was often upstairs reading, sometimes under my blanket, but only when the sun was bright through the windows.

I received regular letters from Mr. Baldwin and his wife, which I did not expect. She seemed like a lovely woman to know. I hoped I would get a chance to meet her.

The Baldwins went to Boston for the holidays. Mrs. Baldwin's father was there, and he was ill. I was glad she had a chance to visit with him. I was homesick, too. I wondered how my mother was and if the nursing home was treating her kindly.

I frequently visited the bookstore, found a few others, and scanned newspapers for any bizarre stories that could be like mine. But to no avail. I had no other way to figure out how to get home.

Late in the spring, I received a letter from Mrs. Baldwin inviting me to stay at their home for the summer months.

[suburbiakrp-blog]

WELCOME TO JUKJEON, CHOI JAEWAN !

your place at dream house 303 is all ready for you, we hope you enjoy your stay. citizens, let’s welcome our new neighborhood university student !

HOW HAS JUKJEON BEEN TREATING YOU THE PAST 23 YEARS ?

it’s comfortable, jaewan muses, as the picturesque setting of the burning sun behind him sets into the night sky, engulfing the city into a quiet lull. he’s been here in jukjeon his entire life, having been born and raised here, and sure, he’s gone to seoul plenty of times — it’s a weekly affair, as a matter of fact. but while the bustling metropolis has merits that may attract the general public, jaewan thinks jukjeon has plenty of charms of its own. in a place that outsiders may think of as boring, jaewan reckons that it’s much easier to carve a niche out for himself in a small town like this. there’s no constant hurry or competition that characterize other states, and jaewan’s grateful for it. after all, it’s not necessarily the prospect of grandour or success in the form of looming riches that he’s seeking for, but instead the promise of a good life. a fulfilled one, like the one he watches in movies. the protagonist gets the girl. they have a family. they live the rest of their lives happily, and then, in years to come, pass away with smiles on their faces and fingers intertwined. idealistic, but jaewan’s always been one to aim high anyway, even if his goals tend to be more insipid to others. so while jaewan may leave jukjeon for lengthy periods from time to time to further his studies and further progress his work, he’ll always return to home in sweet jukjeon.

TELL US MORE ABOUT YOURSELF !

jaewan’s life is boring for the most part. 

he grows up in a regular family — his father is a banker, and his mother a housewife. they are caring and kind, and while they are not the most expressive of parents, jaewan knows that they dote on him, and for that he is appreciative. he has an older brother, and he has big dreams, aspirations far above any of the other family members’ clouds. he wants to be a movie director, to create films that touch others’ hearts and simulateously break box office records. he wants to do things never done before. he’s always been like that since young, now that jaewan thinks about it. eccentric and audacious, loud in a way that makes him stick out like a sore thumb in not just amongst the choi family’s tranquil disposition, but throughout the whole town of jukjeon as well. he moans about the confinements of their home, and speaks of worlds that he wants to travel to that jaewan has never heard of before, and while they are interesting, they don’t appeal to a person like jaewan, who finds quiet solace in the safe havens of his home. 

at age fifteen, jaewan’s brother decides that he wants to leave jukjeon. he kicks up a big fuss about it to their parents, and they simply pass it off as the typical teenage rebellion. they are conservative and have chose the innocuous path of life for the entirety of the lives. at age eighteen, jaewan packs his bags, steals a large wad of money from his father’s pockets and runs away.

their family is left stunned for a while. jaewan’s parents wonder where their parenting went wrong, and come to the conclusion that they never did anything incorrect. this was the way they were raised as well, and for the past few generations of the choi family, have been. jaewan’s brother is the black sheep. the anomaly. so after the first month of attempting to contact jaewan’s brother and futile searches for him in seoul, the place they assume he’s left to, they give it a rest. he’ll go his own way and we’ll go our own, they decide. the aunts and uncles gossip about it, and jaewan’s grandmother expresses her disapproval about their missing son. jaewan’s father’s lips purse themselves into a hard line. reputation is paramount in a small area like jukjeon where there’s not much news, so when there is, word travels fast. 

this leaves jaewan, the remaining son, only a year younger than his brother, in a precarious spot. suddenly, all eyes are him, waiting for his next move. will he be like his brother? he can feel the choices he makes being eyed by his entire extended family and his father’s business colleagues who’ve been eyeing his position at work for a while now. jaewan’s father strengthens his grip on jaewan’s decisions, and while jaewan’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t say anything about it. (but for the first time, he begins to understand why his brother behaved the way he did. this lack of freedom is suffocating.)

he graduates high school with excellent grades. stellar, even. he’s always been good at studying, anyway, and while other students may loathe the idea of it, jaewan doesn’t mind. it brings a nod of approval from his parents that his brother has never gotten, and a hint of satisfaction creeps up in his heart, in a sort of sick twisted way that jaewan himself doesn’t realize.

he decides he wants to be a doctor, but it’s not because of some heroic reason like wanting to save lives or anything like that. no, he becomes a doctor because it’s a highly regarded job and he knows it’d bring pride to his parents. it’s the type of job that when mentioned, would incite a gasp and a pat on the back that jaewan, while having gotten used to it by now, never wants to stop receiving. the pay, which is a monumental amount as compared to his brother who’s struggling to pay his rent on time and at the same time buy equipment that would help him get started, is also another factor that he doesn’t tell anyone about. it’s starting to become ridiculous, the superiority complex that jaewan’s unconciously developed over the past few years. (he’s gleeful when his brother calls him secretly over the phone a year later, when jaewan’s in his first year of medical school, explaining to his younger brother that he’s now, in his words, “broke”. he asks for money to feed himself with, and jaewan gladly complies like the loyal younger brother he is. he doesn’t tell his parents about his older brother’s location, of course, despite his brother breaking over the static phone call from the phone booth that he misses their parents.)

right now, jaewan’s still working on making his dream come true. becoming a doctor takes a tediously long amount of time, and there’s the nigging thought at the back of his head worried that jaewan’s brother might actually make it big before jaewan himself ever becomes a doctor (jaewan knows his brother has the talent — as much as he himself doesn’t want to admit it, anyway.) but this is his life right now. like the stable rhythm of a heartbeat, jaewan’ll make sure there are no discrepancies that mess up his otherwise blemish-free life.

[newssplashy]

Paetyn, an impish 1-year-old, has two fathers. One of them gave birth to her.

As traditional notions of gender shift and blur, parents and children like these are redefining the concept of family.

Paetyn’s father Tanner, 25, is a trans man: He was born female but began transitioning to male in his teens and takes the male hormone testosterone.

“I was born a man in a female body,” he said.

His partner and Paetyn’s biological father is David, 35, a gay man.

Their daughter, they agree, is the best thing that ever happened to them.

“She’ll grow up in a very diverse home,” David said. “We surround her with people who are different.”

In addition to their day jobs — David works at an insurance exchange, Tanner at an auto-parts store, a cleaning service and a bar — Paetyn’s fathers are both drag performers at a local club near their home in upstate New York. To protect their privacy, only their first names are being used.

Trans men have conceived on purpose, but Tanner isn’t one of them. In his case, it happened by accident after he missed a few doses of testosterone, and he didn’t suspect he was pregnant until the morning sickness hit. It was a shock, but he and David said that from the start, there was no doubt that they wanted the baby.

“We get to have a child that’s biologically ours, which is an opportunity a lot of people in our community don’t have,” David said.

The first time they saw the fetal heartbeat on ultrasound, they wept.

“I can still see it as clear as day in my head,” David said. “It was a life-changing moment.”

Tanner said, “On the first one, she looked like a little peanut. Next time, boom! It was a baby. You could see the spine and everything. It was so cool. I saw her hands, and it was like, ‘You’ll be a drummer or learn sign language.’ It blew my mind.”

Tanner had to stay off testosterone until the birth, but he had no interest in ever identifying as female again or dressing as a woman.

“Yeah, I’m a pregnant man,” he told friends and acquaintances. “What? I’m pregnant. I’m still a man. You have questions? Come talk to me. You have a problem with it? Don’t be in my life.”

Starting in his teens, Tanner’s transition from female to male had been a series of steps over a number of years. As a child, he was a tomboy who preferred boys as friends and played tackle football. “I always felt different,” he said.

Puberty, and the changes that came with it — especially the developing breasts — were torture. Suddenly, he was no longer allowed to play outside without a shirt. His first bra, a happy rite of passage for most girls, brought him to tears.

He began struggling with anxiety and depression connected to “gender dysphoria,” the sense that his body and outward gender did not match his identity.

“It’s a constant battle,” he said. “Being uncomfortable in your own skin makes for a negative life. You’re suffocating in your own body.”

He felt attracted to girls, but had been brought up to believe that being gay was wrong. Still, he came out as bisexual during his freshman year of high school, and then as what he called a butch lesbian.

During his freshman year in college, he saw a drag king performance for the first time — women performing as men — and thought, “I need to do that.”

He tried it — and sensed he’d found his identity at last. To hide his breasts while performing, he would wrap his chest painfully tight in duct tape.

He began to transition socially — to live as a man, asking friends and family to refer to him as he or him. After a year, he began taking testosterone. Gradually, his voice dropped, facial hair grew in, his periods stopped, his neck and jaw thickened, and his body fat shifted, giving him a more masculine build. It felt right.

“When you transition, you’re free,” he said. “It was the best decision of my life.”

He did not expect to fall in love with a man, but that is exactly what happened with David, a longtime friend — who had not quite envisioned himself with a trans man as a partner.

“David came out of left field,” Tanner said.

Tracing his own path — from bisexual to lesbian, drag king, trans man, gay man, pregnant man — Tanner laughed and said, “I’m literally every letter of LGBTQ.”

David and Tanner have a big network of friends and family — straight, gay, trans and every other possible variation — but both have encountered hostility in their hometown often enough to make them wary.

As his belly expanded into its unmistakable shape, Tanner spent more and more time at home, fearful that out on the street, the sight of a pregnant man would invite trouble. And, he said, “I just didn’t want to be judged.”

When he did go out, he wore an enormous black hoodie of David’s. “That hid it well,” he said.

He had always hated his breasts, even before transitioning, and as they swelled with pregnancy, he wore a tight sports bra to try to conceal them.

“The chest, that was what really messed with my head,” he said.

As fathers to be, they got some of their most enthusiastic congratulations from the drag world — the regulars at the club where both men perform, dancing and lip-syncing, Tanner as a drag king and David as a sassy, 6-foot-tall drag queen in a tight skirt and size 12-wide high heels.

Tanner, fluent in sign language, signs the lyrics as well — Bruno Mars, Michael Jackson and Pentatonix are among his favorites — and has a big following among deaf drag fans.

Apart from home, his only real comfort zone while pregnant was the bar where he and David performed.

At first, Tanner hoped the baby would be a boy.

“I thought it would be easier for me,” he said. “I’m not in tune with being feminine anymore. I’ll have to explain the transition. I don’t want her to feel that being female is a bad thing. ‘Dad used to be a girl. Now he’s not.’ I don’t want her to feel being a girl is wrong and you have to transition to fit in.”

They had one baby shower at a rented cabin and another at the club, with more than 150 guests, who gave so many diapers that Tanner and David didn’t have to buy any for months. They asked for books, as well, and got enough to fill a bookcase.

Being pregnant was difficult. “I didn’t enjoy it,” Tanner said. “I kept to myself.”

In the obstetrician’s waiting room, other patients, especially older women, gave him strange looks.

He spent most of the pregnancy fighting nausea and heartburn and was put on bed rest for the last trimester. Toward the end, he developed pre-eclampsia, a dangerous complication that landed him in the hospital — a man on the maternity floor.

He had pounding headaches and saw spots before his eyes; his blood pressure shot up to 187/111. The only cure for that condition is to deliver the baby.

It was not an easy birth. Doctors began to induce labor on a Friday, and Tanner struggled through labor all weekend. He had an epidural while watching the Super Bowl. It did not work.

On Monday, monitors suddenly showed the baby’s heart rate slowing, and doctors rushed him to the operating room for an emergency cesarean.

“Do you want to cut the cord?” a nurse asked David.

“They gave me scissors, and it felt like cutting a rubber band,” he said. “Then they gave Tanner the baby, and we cried.”

Tanner recalled thinking, ‘This is not real life. It’s some crazy soap opera.’ He felt close to passing out, but struggled to stay conscious. “It was awesome. Happy awesome.”

On the birth certificate, he is identified as Paetyn’s mother, something that he and David hope eventually to have changed so that they are both listed as fathers.

Tanner could not bear to nurse Paetyn: Breasts epitomized the gender he had abandoned. A few months later, he underwent “top surgery” to have them removed.

After Paetyn’s birth, he went back on testosterone.

“Once I started taking my T again after the baby came, it was kind of like a relief, because for me taking it makes me feel like I’m at the level where I should be mentally and emotionally,” he said. “It helps chill me out. I still have anxiety and depression, but not as much.”

They’d like another child. David hopes Tanner will become pregnant again. Some days Tanner likes the idea, and other days not — depending on his body dysphoria. Sometimes he thinks they should adopt.

“It’s what gay and trans people do,” Tanner said. “There are kids that have crap lives, and we could help them.” But he has mixed feelings: He knows couples who started the adoption process, only to have the birth mother take the child back.

“My parents and family and friends have had to transition right along with me,” Tanner said.

Tanner, whose father is a drummer, has taught himself piano, guitar, drums, beat box, French horn, tuba and saxophone. He plays by ear. Music is everything to him, and Paetyn seems born to rock.

At the first note, she is grinning, twitching her hips and waving her arms to the beat. She even manages to dance sitting down.

She’s a smiling, curious, easygoing baby. Her fathers dote on her, scrambling eggs or cooking cereal and mixing it with yogurt for her breakfast. She chugs bottles of formula. When David comes home from his day job, he scoops her up and cuddles her. She grins at his kisses.

“She is so awesome,” he said.

Their lives match those of most families with young children: an exhausting jumble of work, cooking, diaper-changes, endless piles of laundry and the wrangling of baby sitters.

About 65 people joined them to celebrate Paetyn’s first birthday. Her favorite gift was a Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood band set from Tanner’s sister. But a big empty cardboard box was still hard to beat.

What do they imagine for Paetyn?

“I hope she’s independent, has a successful career and an amazing family, and I hope she runs some sort of movement at some point for equality,” David said. “I think she will because of having two gay parents and a dad that had her.”

He also wishes for her to have a better childhood than he had.

And, David said: “I hope she’s a lesbian. Then we won’t have boys coming to the house and we won’t have to worry about her getting pregnant.”

“I hope she’s straight,” Tanner said. “It’s hard, to struggle with coming out, not feeling safe. Anyone in this community, they’re always walking around looking over their shoulder. There are people who will hurt you just because you’re gay or trans. It’s scary. If you’re straight and white in this society, you’re kind of better off. I’m half-black. People would pick on me because of my skin color. I didn’t fit in. I was too dark for the whites and too light to hang out with black kids. So I just made friends with everybody.”

He added, “My hope for her is that she learns to face fears and stare hatred in face and not be intimidated by it. I want her to overcome and not let people bother her. I want her to raise above all of it and prove everyone wrong, and make something of herself.”

“She’ll feel how she feels,” David said.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

JACKIE MOLLOY and DENISE GRADY © 2018 The New York Times

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