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angellesword · 4 years

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EUPHORIA | JJK

It’s Sunday. Jeongguk was supposed to be at the gym, serving looks. You were supposed to be at the church, serving the Lord. But you two were at the mall, looking for baby toys. You guessed this was your punishment for letting him stick his dick inside of you instead of just using an adult toy.

Alternatively:

“We share the same painful views. Won’t you please stay in my dreams.”

word count: 2.6k (one-shot) PART OF INTRO SERIES

pairing: husband!Jungkook x wife!reader

genre and content warnings: established relationship, angst, fluff, married au, (forced marriage) mention of premarital sex, pregnancy, abortion, Catholic guilt, death, and mental illness.

Sunday was church day.

This was what your whole family made you believe ever since you were young. They were firm believers of God. In fact, your first word wasn't like what most babies said.

Jesus. This was your first word and your mom wasn't even complaining. She loved to brag about it to other lectors and commentators. Your father, a lay minister, also took pride sharing the same story over and over again.

Frankly speaking, you were getting tired of it.

Don't get it twisted. You loved Jesus and you believed that he was your savior. You even sang worship songs at the church every Sunday. You were the head of the choir; every church goer knew you—well, not only church goers.

Literally everyone around you knew you.

You were also popular at school. People referred to you as the good girl who had it all.

You were pretty, smart, and your boyfriend was none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

The man you were dating was a jock. He made it clear that he didn't like studying, but he still wanted to go to a university and apply for scholarship. You had no doubt that he would get what he wanted.

Jeongguk was a star football player after all.

"Babe, what do you think of this?" You showed Jeongguk a stuffed animal. It was a rabbit.

"Cute," he grinned at you. Jeongguk wasn't sure what he found cute. Was it you or was it the stuffed toy?

You and Jeongguk were currently at the mall, buying toys for Haneul, your son who was turning one this month.

"We'll buy this next time.”

The smile Jeongguk was sporting turned into a scowl when you put the toy back to the shelf.

"Next time?" He furrowed his brow, reaching for the rabbit. "Why can't we buy it now?"

"Guk," you let out a sigh. He was feigning innocence but you knew better.

You knew you couldn't afford this kind of toy. Why did you even ask him to go here? It was obvious that you didn't belong here.

Years ago, you and Jeongguk had plans. He wanted to be a famous football player while you decided to major in Marketing; however, your dreams had been shattered when you found out that you were pregnant with his baby.

You didn't know what to do that time. You just graduated high school. Actually, you were supposed to take the college entrance exam at Seoul University.

The test didn't happen because you felt sick that day. You had been vomiting non-stop and everything smelt awful.

You still took a test, though. It wasn't the kind of test you were expecting. You woke up that day to chase you dream, but instead you ended up chasing your breath as you cried and cried and cried.

You took a pregnancy test and the numbing slap of your mother was enough for you to know that you were a disgrace.

A disgrace, a disappointment, an animal, a disrespectful child, and a....

sinner.

You accepted it all. You didn't mind that your whole family was insulting you inside and out.

You didn't blame them—couldn't blame them.

How could you do that when you saw yourself the same way they saw you?

Your mind was poisoning you. You were blaming yourself. You were blaming Jeongguk. He did this to you.

He did this to you because you let him.

So basically, this was your fault.

You ruined your future and the only way to restore everything back to normal was to have an abortion.

Of course you considered abortion. You were young and so, so scared. How could you take care of a child when you couldn't even take care of yourself?

And what about Jeongguk? He didn't deserve this shit. He was young too. He deserved the world, not a punishment.

You considered your child as a punishment. Why didn't you just stick to dildo? Or a fucking vibrator?

There were so many options. Why did you have to trust that stupid condom? You knew it didn't work all the time.

Nothing worked according to your plan.

"You are going to marry Jeon Jeongguk." Your father's words screamed authority.

Everyone in your family was aware that once your father demanded something, it should be followed without any questions. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it was absolute.

"But—" despite knowing the end of this discussion, you still tried to reason out.

You were only able to utter one word before you felt another deafening slap from your mother.

Or was it your father?

You had no idea.

All you knew was that everyone was either physically hurting you or emotionally manipulating you.

"No buts! My decision is final! You are going to marry that Jeon boy!"

Ah, that Jeon boy.

Poor Jeon Jeongguk. He had no idea what was about to happen to him. God. He didn't even know that you were carrying his child.

"We won't allow you to live like a slut anymore," your auntie crossed her arms.

This was the thing about your family. Everyone had a say, even your relative could discipline you. According to them, elders should always be respected. You had to follow what they said because apparently, they knew better than you.

Maybe they did. But still, you didn't want to force Jeongguk to marry you.

Sure, you two had been dating for three years now, but that wasn't enough. What if the love he felt for you wasn't the kind of love that you and your kid needed?

Perhaps you should have thought of that before giving into lust. The tiny voice inside your head sneered at you.

You could only sob.

It seemed like crying was all you could do.

You cried when you found out that you were pregnant, you cried when your parents found out that you were pregnant, and you cried when Jeongguk found out that you were pregnant.

All of this was happening because you were pregnant.

Except one thing:

Jeongguk wanted to marry you not because you were pregnant but because he loved you.

"You don't have to force me.” Jeongguk gritted his teeth when your whole family barged in his house.

Of course the Jeons were surprised. They weren't close to your family even though you lived two houses away from one another.

Your family didn’t want to associate themselves with the Jeons. The latter didn't really believe in the Lord, or even if they did, they were still far from religious.

They raised Jeongguk to be a sinner.

Your family firmly believed that you only got pregnant because Jeongguk forced you.

It wasn't true. You both wanted it to happen. You were consenting adults. Besides, your boyfriend asked you thousands of times if you truly wanted to do it.

He didn't force you. He respected you.

"I will marry her." Jeongguk said with confidence. He was looking at your father as if he was ready to knock him down.

"Jeongguk," his mother called softly. She was crying. She was broken. She was ashamed. She was sorry.

"It's alright, mom." The look Jeongguk gave his mother was the opposite of the glare he threw at your father.

Jeongguk was a sweet boy. He loved his parents so much.

"Shall we talk about the wedding, then?" Your father raised a brow.

Everything happened fast after that. Your family and Jeongguk's parents arranged the matrimony that was about to happen.

The Jeons offered to pay for the wedding expenses. Your family agreed. They didn't really care about the details. They only demanded a church wedding. They also wanted to marry you off as soon as possible.

They said it would be a shame if your baby bump appeared before the white event.

Since the preparation was short, you didn't have a choice but to wear a simple dress. Your mother insisted that you add veil as an accessory.

It was a hypocritical move, really. Veils symbolized innocence and purity.

You were neither.

You were a sinner and guilt was consuming your whole being.

Guilt for disappointing your family.

Guilt for breaking your promise to the Lord.

And guilt for taking something away from Jeongguk.

You took his freedom away.

The small apartment where you two now lived was not enough to showcase what he got. This abode was small, suffocating and confining his talents.

It was also too small to cater your unending tears.

You felt like you were drowning.

"Babe..." Your husband whispered, yet his voice still startled you.

You didn't answer—didn't have the energy to do so. You were drowning, remember? It didn't help that you feel suffocated too. The stupid dress you were wearing was too tight.

"You okay?" Jeongguk enquired, sighing.

He was worried about you. The two of you got married today. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days for brides, but why weren't you happy?

Why did you look...dejected?

"Yeah," you tried to offer him a smile. "I just feel hot."

You weren't lying. You didn't like the ambiance of your house. It felt like a vacation place, like you were a stranger, like you didn't belong.

It was because your mother and sisters were the ones who decorated this place.

"You think you can join me outside?" Your husband rubbed circled on your palm. "Let's have some fresh air?"

You nodded in a heartbeat.

You were tired, but you didn't want to be stuck in this room. You wanted...out.

"Okay.” Jeongguk helped you get on your feet. He was acting as though you were an expensive figurine ever since he learned that you were pregnant.

Your husband led you to the small garden of your home. You didn't know that your family decided to buy a place like this.

You were grateful though. The inside of your home was suffocating, but the garden appeared...magical.

"Jeongguk," your eyes widened in shock. "W-What's all this?"

Your hand was shaking as your eyes scanned the garden. There were fairy lights wrapped around the trees. The place was also decorated with different ornaments and pretty flowers.

Your favorite flowers.

"Do you like it?" Your husband was grinning at you. His eyes were shining brighter than the lights.

"Of course," you cupped his cheeks. "This is sweet, Kookie. Thank you.”

"Anything for you," he brought your hands closer to his mouth, kissing it.

"You deserve everything, baby." And with that, Jeongguk dropped on one knee.

"W-What are you doing!?" You panicked, eyes dilating once again.

"I know everything happened so fast." He started, licking his bottom lip. "We didn't have time to process everything. Our family decided what they think is good for us and trust me, I appreciate it."

You knew he was implying that he wanted this to happen.

"But I want to do something that I want.” He fished a small box out of the pocket of his slacks.

You gasped.

"They told me to marry you." He opened the velvet box.

There was a ring.

"But they didn't give me the chance to do this," he raised the ring in the air.

"Baby," Jeongguk called, looking at your face with so much fondness. "You deserve a better proposal."

You were sobbing.

"You deserve a man dropping down on one knee. A man who will show you that he is serious about this marriage.”

He took your left hand.

"And I want to be that man. I want to be the man you deserved and not the boy your father coerced,"

You laughed, heart hammering through your chest. Jeongguk was so beautiful.

"I love you..." He confessed as he called your name. "Will you marry me?"

The yes that came out of your mouth was instant. You didn't hesitate. You didn't feel guilty. You just felt....happy.

Jeongguk put the ring on your finger. He kissed your stomach before standing up to crash his lips against yours.

Jeongguk no longer tasted like regret.

He tasted like forever.

Forever...

You swore you would stay with him forever. You felt silly for doubting him.

Jeongguk was a good man.

Your house no longer felt suffocating. It was loaded with love and laughter and it made your heart swell with joy.

Your family didn't bother your life anymore. You were on your own. They stopped supporting you. They said you made a choice—a choice to be a mother.

A mother was a provider, a natural giver.

You provided for your new family. You worked harder. You had two jobs: a waitress and elementary tutor.

Jeongguk continued studying. He was a student in the morning and a delivery boy at night.

You two worked in the same restaurant. Jeongguk tried to cover your shift as much as possible. He was basically doing your job.

He was scared. What if you overworked yourself? He didn't want you to work but you said you had to.

Raising a baby was expensive.

But you did it.

Haneul was turning one year old this month. He was a bright kid and he looked exactly like his father. They had the same brown eyes, so innocent and wide.

You knew you would do anything for your baby—well—except for one.

You wouldn't buy this stuffed toy for him. It's not like you didn't want to. It was more like you couldn't.

You couldn't afford it.

You couldn't, but Jeongguk could.

"Let's buy it...” He repeated. "I have money. I worked overtime last night.”

Your husband was still a delivery boy. You, on the other hand, quit your job so that you could look after your baby.

"Are you sure? This is expensive, Kook." You bit your lower lip.

Jeongguk smiled at you.

"But Haneul will like it.”

His reason was enough for you to just give in.

Of course.

Anything for your little Jeon. You would die for your son.

"Haneul, we're home!" You cooed loudly.

You were excited to see your baby. Jeongguk told you to give Haneul the stuffed toy while he go and express his gratitude to your neighbor for looking after baby Haneul.

Little did you know, Jeongguk was lying.

There was no neighbor to talk to.

It was only an excuse so that he could stare at you through the window as you rocked the empty crib in your room.

You were singing.

"You are the sunlight that rose again in my life..." Your voice was sweet that Jeongguk couldn't help but cry a little.

For you, Haneul was light. He shed light when you felt like giving up.

"You are the cause of my euphoria," your child was also the cause of your happiness.

Without him, you would be lost.

Jeongguk knew it.

Haneul.

This was the name you chose for your kid. It meant heaven.

For you, Haneul was God sent.

But Jeongguk was wondering.

If Haneul was God sent, then why did the Lord take him immediately?

Why did your Lord take him away from you and Jeongguk?

"Close the door now..." You continued to sing.

Jeongguk's heart clenched.

He watched you every day, so he already knew the next line of the song.

He sang with you.

"When I'm with you I'm in utopia..."

Utopia was a special place. A fantasy world. A world where everything was possible.

In Utopia, Haneul was still alive.

Jeongguk wasn't crazy.

He knew you needed help.

You were in denial. Too caught up in fantasy that you refused to believe that your son was already dead the moment he was born.

Haneul died in your womb.

He tried telling you, but you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You became hysterical when the words dead and Haneul were mentioned in the same sentence.

Jeongguk avoided using those words. It had been months now, almost a year actually.

He wondered if he could still continue pretending.

Looking at you hurt.

He guessed it was time to let go.

Not now, but soon.

For today, he just wanted to believe that utopia was real.

It should be fine, right?

more JJK FICS: Your Eyes Tell or check Masterlist

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #husband jungkook #boyfriend jungkook

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innytoes · 3 years

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Trope Mash-up: Willex, 33 + 49!

Baby Fic + Fake Married

Okay so imagine, everyone lives AU where Willie and Alex have been dating for like, a few months. He is head over heels in love with this guy, and his friends like him, and the band is doing great, and Alex' life is pretty damn good, right?

And then he gets a call that his Great Aunt Lydia passed away and he needs to be at the reading of the will because apparently Great Aunt Lydia and her 'roommate' left him something. The lawyer is pretty insistent it will be worth his while. Yes, his parents will also be there, as will his aunt and uncle.

And Alex doesn't want to go, because he hasn't been in the same room as his parents since they kicked him out the moment he turned eightteen because they felt like they could then without bringing shame onto the family, or whatever. And he's finally getting his life together now, after all these years, and he doesn't want them to make him feel small or wrong ever again.

And Luke is like: dude, go over there and rub in their faces how awesome your life is now. We're recording an album! You have like the hottest boyfriend ever!

And Reggie is like: Who knows maybe she left you a ton of money, didn't she live in that big fancy house with her friend?

And Bobby points out the obvious 'dude she was clearly a lesbian, this is gay solidarity, go get your inheritance'.

But Alex is just seeing all the things his parents would sneer at, like the way he never went to college (because they yanked his college fund away from him and he never saved up because he was promised they'd pay for it) and how by now, in his late 20s, he was supposed to be married and have kids and be succesful.

And Willie is just like: if it's that important to you, why don't you just fake it? It's not like they know anything about your life anyway.

And he gets down on one knee and holds out a ring he probably yanked off Luke's finger and is like: Alex Mercer, can I have the honour of being your fake husband and getting a first row seat to the shitshow that this is going to be?

And Alex knows that is a bad idea but his brain blanks at the image of Willie basically (fake!) proposing to him so he says yes. And anyway it would be really nice to be able to hold his boyfriend's hand if he has to face his family again.

Only then the day of, Willie shows up with an actual baby in a baby sling and he's like: DID YOU STEAL A CHILD TO CREATE A FAKE FAMILY WILLIE WHAT THE HELL. I know I said 'marriage and kids' but I didn't mean you had to steal an infant from somewhere.

And Willie is laughing so hard like: dude, chill, I'm sorry but my sister had an emergency and couldn't find a sitter and I told her I'd take him. Besides this is going to be extra hilarious, now get over here and meet your fake son.

And it is worth it to see his mother go white as a sheet and his father go beet red while he casually introduces his husband and son to Aunt Sherryl and Uncle Dave and ignores them entirely. And Willie is just so charming and his nephew is like, the cutest, most chill baby ever, and Alex can't help but feel a little vindictive thrill of pleasure at the spluttering behind his back.

So when he learns that Great Aunt Lydia basically gave her whole estate to him and some LGBTQ charities, it's pretty awesome. Especially when Aunt Sherryl shrugs and goes 'called it' (great aunt Lydia left her some craft supplies and her thimble collection, which she seemed pleased with). Especially, especially when his father explodes and tries to argue with the lawyer. And he's able to walk out with his head held high and Willie's hand in his and it's pretty awesome.

And if they maybe talk about having a family together (some day! far in the future!), well, turns out Willie is a pretty great fake husband, he'll probably be a great real one too, some day.

Send me two tropes from this list and a pairing and I’ll tell you the fic to go with it.

#julie and the phantoms #AUs are awesome #willex #alex mercer #willie throckmorton #fanfic #I wrote a thing #I just imagine Willie telling his sister like: I'll babysit but can I use him as a prop to freak out my boyfriend's homophobic parents #and she shrugged like: yeah sure as long as you remember to give him his bottle on time #the band all moves into great aunt lydia's house Grey's Anatomy style #and eventually Willie moves in as well and it's just super #though it is very awkward when aunt sherryl comes to pick up her thimble collection and asks where the baby is.

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imaginesforjohnnydepp · 4 years

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Dad? Pt. 2 (Johnny Depp x fem reader)

for anon @kittenlittle24 @evelynrosestuff

Fall 2005

You tried not gawk as you took in your surroundings, and you’re absolutely sure that you are failing at it, but could anyone really blame you? You’d never been inside a house this big before, not even the biggest houses where you grew up were this big and even the richest residents didn’t live like this and it put your two bedroom apartment (in a nice part of LA, complete with a lobby and front desk) to shame. Everything looked so expensive, even the plates and silverware you ate off of. Johnny and Vanessa---er, your dad and practically stepmother---offered to take you for the weekend while your mom is away on a business trip in Bakersfield. By the time you started getting ready for school this morning, there was a sticky note on the fridge saying that one of your dad’s bodyguards will take you home after school to pack for the weekend and then to your dad’s house. Your mom would pick up on Sunday evening.

Once the initial shock and legal stuff were taken care of, you started to enjoy yourself. So far, it wasn’t known to the public that Johnny Depp had a third child, but you figured it will only be a matter of time. “How was school today? Did you get your math test back?” “School was fine. Mr. Davies let us out five minutes early for lunch, and I got a 92 on my math test.” You told them about everything that happened at school, and your dad and Vanessa seemed interested in what you had to say.

Vanessa was very accepting of you, and your little brother and sister loved hovering around you as you did some homework. From the time you set foot in their mansion house, you could tell right away that your parents have very different methods of parenting; Johnny is very clearly the lax parent while your mom, even with her tattoos and laid back personality, is more the authoritative type. “You told your mom you were dropping out of school to pursue music and you lived to tell the tale?” you questioned him. From the time you were little, your mom always expressed the importance of a good education and getting into a good college which is why she pushes you as hard as she does.

“She wasn’t happy about it, but it was different back then. I’m guessing Scarlett wouldn’t like it much if you were to do it?” You tried to picture yourself marching right up to your mom to tell her you were dropping out of school to marry your boyfriend and moving to Vegas to become a showgirl. The outcome was definitely not pretty. “Not at all. I’m not even allowed to watch tv during the week except for the news.” You told him about the strict rules she set in place for you: how you don’t have a tv in your room, no tv during a school week, how you’re not allowed to have a Myspace page, and definitely no texting boys on IM.

You understood why she pushes you so hard, because her mom, your grandmother, never did for her, but it was still nice to know that you have a dad to let you vent about how Mom doesn’t like you talking to the high school freshman who lives down the hall because he wears too much black. “And anyway, Jason’s nice. Gets good grades,” you concluded. “I can see where your mom is coming from, up to a point. You shouldn’t be worried about boys now, plenty of time for that when you’re older.” You smiled up at him, thinking about how quickly he adjusted to having a teenaged daughter. “Spoken like a true dad,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Well, I have thirteen years to make up for.” It was quiet again as you both turned your attention back to The Simpsons. “You know.. Vanessa and I were talking to your mom this morning, and were thinking about... telling the world about you. It’s bound to come out at some point, and Vanessa would love to go shopping with you, and I would like to be able to do things with you too. Maybe take you to the aquarium and ice cream. Maybe meet your friends and teachers.” That would be nice, you hated that you couldn’t tell your old and new friends about your cool dad, about how awesome his girlfriend is. How you have two little siblings who already love you.

“I’d like that very much.” You were not prepared for what happened next.

#johnny depp imagines #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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The Tran-Cavill Grandkids

Henry = 79 / Olivia = 70 / Vanessa = 47 / Elodie = 40 / Heather and Chloe are 36

Olivia: We have 8 grandchildren. It has been sixteen years since I first became a grandmother, but I still have to get used to it.

Henry: I love being a granddad. I love everything about it, especially when they all come over and we have seventeen people over.

Oliver (16)

Olivia: Oliver is Chloe’s and Joon Ki’s first son and our oldest grandson. Chloe was still in college and scared out of her mind when she found out she was pregnant. I stayed over in her dorm from her twenty fifth week of pregnancy to the thirtieth, since poor thing was suffering from a lot of panic attacks and because of their different schedules, Joon Ki and her friends couldn’t be there for her. I forgot how disgusting those dorms were. After that, she took online classes, because she was really fatigued and uncomfortable. She stayed at our place again up until the birth.

Henry: When Oliver was born, my life stopped for a moment. I was officially a granddad. I mean, I always knew I wanted to become a father, but a granddad… I never really thought that far into the future. But Oliver is such a wonderful young man. Takes his job as the oldest grandchild very seriously.

Olivia: He comes over a lot, since our house is on the route when he goes home after school. He helps us with some chores or just comes over to drink some tea with us. Oliver even offers to do groceries for us every Saturday.

Dylan (14)

Henry: Dylan is Vanessa’s and Trey’s first son. We were delighted that we were going to be grandparents of two boys. However, it was pretty hard for Vanessa and that absolutely broke my heart. My poor girl was in a lot of pain and discomfort and there was nothing I could do about it.

Olivia: Vanessa became dehydrated pretty early on in her pregnancy, forcing her to quit her job. I actually quit my job too, because I realized that I needed to be there for her.

Henry: Finally, after all those years of her saying that just because I am rich, doesn’t mean she should stop working.

Olivia: Anyways, my poor baby was really out of it and I moved in with her and Trey for a while, because they obviously needed to prepare a lot for the arrival of their little boy. So Henry and Trey decorated the entire nursery, while Vanessa and I tried to come up with a birth plan, me telling her about the whole giving birth thing and how scary it can be. We even went to a few therapy sessions, simply to put her mind at ease.

Henry: However, Dylan was born ten weeks too early and it was a trying time for all of us. We spend so much time in the NICU. Thankfully the entire family stepped in to help Vanessa and Trey out. Dylan was a pretty weak baby, also really tiny and had troubles eating. Though he was sick and tired pretty often, he grew out to be such an amazing kid, who understands the limits he has and despite that, still manages to participate in certain sports. We are so proud of him.

Megan (9)

Olivia: It took five years before Vanessa got pregnant again and thankfully this pregnancy was easier on her. We were so excited when we found out she was pregnant with a little girl! Our first granddaughter. Megan is such a bright young lady. When she was four, she saw a picture of Henry having a tea parties with her aunts when they were around her age. The next time she came over, she brought a dress and her cups and saucers and forced Henry to partake.

Henry: I thought those days were over, but I’m a push over and I couldn’t say no to her. Megan is such a happy go lucky kid, with the most infectious giggle. I remember when she was a baby, she started to giggle and didn’t stop. Nowadays, she can just stare at you, before bursting out in a fit of giggles. She also forces me to dance with her, but thankfully every Tran-Cavill girl tells her that it’s for the best that I don’t dance.

Jake (8)

Henry: Jake is Chloe’s second second and that is one special kid. He was already dancing in the womb, according to the sonographer. I think he was only two months when I was playing some music in the background and Jake was in his seat. He started to move his arms right on the beat!

Olivia: He is now going to dance classes and I have to say: that kid knows how dance. He can appear to be a bit more introverted, isn’t really in your face when they come over to visit. All in all, he is a pretty timid kid, but the second he hears music or is on a stage, he dances his heart out. So amazingly talented! When he visits, he always gives us little previews of the dances he taught in class.

Kiki (4)

Henry: Heather was never the type of woman that dated. She was always more focused on her own career. It did shock me when she told us that she got pregnant and that she had to tell her boyfriend about it, since we all had no clue that she was even dating someone. Not even her own twin sister knew!

Olivia: What a fucking doorknob that guy was. Heather wanted me to join her, when she would tell this Tom dude she was pregnant. Turns out she really is a daughter of mine, because she found herself a man that is the spitting image of Wesley, appearance wise and personality wise. He got so mad when she told him and even had the audacity to tell Heather that she got knocked up by someone else. He really wasn’t hiding the fact that he was an idiot, because he told my sweet Heather all that, when I was right next to her! Long story short, I broke them up, slapped Tom in the face and threatened to kill him if he ever sought out to her or the baby.

Henry: That’s my girl.

Olivia: But Heather is a real trooper and manages to take care of Kiki just fine. Thankfully we love her dearly and didn’t kick her out, because she got pregnant out of wedlock (like my parents and brothers did). We are the go to baby sitter for Kiki and it’s so much fun to pick her up from school. It reminds me of the times that we would pick up our own girls from school.

Henry: Kiki is such a happy go lucky little girl. She is a ray of sunshine and we are so lucky and grateful that she is in our lives and that that idiot Tom is not. I fear the day that I run into him, because I will throw him in front of a bus. Accidentally of course.

Olivia: Henry, honey, remember: you’re nearing the ripe age of eighty. What if you break a hip or your wrist?

Lewis (14)

Olivia: So, Katie, Elodie’s wife, used to teach English in Secondary school, but after she lost her job, since her school had to close, she became a substitute for three months at another school. That’s where she met nine year old Lewis. According to her, he was a shy kid, but every day after school, he’d linger around the classroom and talked to Katie. He would help her out with cleaning up, make his homework and often they would walk out of the school together.

Henry: Unfortunately she had to leave after three months and according to her, it was pretty hard leaving Lewis. Two weeks after she left the school, she got a call in the middle of the night. The principal of that school informed her that Lewis was removed from his home by the police. The neighbors called it in, since they heard the abuse going on. Later on, it turned out that Lewis was the victim of abuse on a daily basis. He lingered in Katie’s class room to postpone the moment of going home to his father. He was in desperate need of someone who would take him into emergency foster care.

Olivia: However the only person he wanted to stay with, was Katie, so she and Elodie took him in. It was supposed to be for a week, but a week turned into a month and after a nasty trial, they officially adopted Lewis on his tenth birthday!

Henry: I remember him coming over for the first time. Maybe it was a bit mean to let him meet everyone at once, but despite his nerves, he managed quite well. Now we know Lewis as such a hardworking young man, who desperately tries to help others and makes sure that they can reach their full potential.

Stella (8)

Olivia: Elodie and Katie got into foster care a whole lot more seriously after they adopted Lewis and three years ago, they had to foster Stella, who had lost both of her parents in a tragic accident and there wasn’t anyone that could care for her. I remember Elodie and Katie having a bit of trouble with Stella, because she would lock herself up in her room and not talk to anyone.

Henry: It was hard, but Lewis swooped right in and the two of them had such long conversations. I think it was because of him that Stella opened up to her moms, but also to the rest of the family. She and Lewis are definitely partners in crime. She is quite something. Very mischievous and sneaky. She loves to scare people, hiding behind doors, but she doesn’t do it to us (thankfully), because she is afraid will scare ourselves a heart attack. So considerate.

Olivia: In a lot of ways she reminds me of Vanessa. She is very eloquent and uses fancy words to throw you off guard. I love taking her out with me, because, just like Vanessa, she “whispers" something to you (most likely she’s gossiping), but the people she is talking about, can always hear it. I know I shouldn’t condone this, but I love the faces of the people when they hear Stella say: ‘Grandma, why is that woman wearing those shoes? The straps are too tight. She looks like a ham.’

Henry: You allow that? You should discipline her.

Olivia: I have been raising kids since I was twenty three and I always made sure to discipline them. Now that I’m a grandma, I can let it slide for a few times.

Charlotte (2)

Henry: And last but not least, little Charlotte. They fostered her since she was a year and officially adopted her six months ago. We don’t know exactly what happened to her, since she was abandoned at around nine months. No one actually knows what her exact age is, let alone her birthday.

Olivia: It’s such a shame that something this horrendous could happen to such a precious little bean. She is, despite the things that happened to her, a lovely young girl, who kind of reminds me a lot of Elodie. A bit shy, a bit quiet and not a smiler.

Henry: Definitely not a smiler to strangers at all, but when she does… She’s so precious. Lewis and Stella are really good with her as well. These two were made to be older siblings. I can’t wait to see what kind of girl Charlotte becomes!

◎◎◎

Olivia: We are so blessed with our beautiful grandchildren and it’s my goal to become at least a hundred years old, so I can see every single one of them at least graduate!

Henry: And I want to hold my great-grandchild, so yeah, I agree, my love. We should become at least a hundred years old.

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69 // @lyrafraiser // @peakygroupie // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @mary-ann84 // @thereisa8ella //@crazyandanonymous4u // @xuxszx // @emmaofgreengabbles // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair // @onlyhenrys // @omgkatinka // @oddsnendsfanfics // @speakerforthedead0 // @agniavateira // @gearhead66 // @chamomilebottom // @diegos-butt // @yoyoanaria //

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #Olivia Tran-Cavill #henry cavill x Olivia Tran #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Water under the bridge

Summary: Dean has it all. The looks. The money. He’s the most popular guy on campus. You are all he’s not. Shy. Nerdy. A loner. One day a pair of green eyes land on you and your life changes…

Pairing: Student!Dean x Student!Reader, Student!Sam x Student!Reader (platonic/best friends), mentions of Jess, Cassie, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, language, shy reader, jealous Dean, unrequited feelings, bitchy college girls, bullying, the reader is nerdy and smart, injured reader, sad reader

A/N: This is a College AU I wanted to write for a while.

Words: 3,9 k

The day you met Sam Winchester was the best in your life. At first, you thought he tries to make fun of you like every handsome guy at Stanford, but Sam honestly wanted to talk to you.

He’s smart, caring and a ray of sunshine and for over a year he’s your best friend – to be honest, he’s your only friend.

Whenever you are down Sam can pick you up and make you laugh. The best thing is – Sam is determined and takes his study seriously as you do.

While you and Sam get along more than well, his big brother is another story.

Sam is a freshman, that’s the reason you got to know him one year ago, but you know his brother for around three years, and he’s a pain in the ass for sure.

Dean has it all. The looks. The money. He’s the most popular guy on campus.

You are all he’s not. Shy. Nerdy. A loner. When you first arrived at Stanford you dared to park your old Mustang too close to his beloved Impala and since then – you are invisible to him.

Dean even ran you over a few months ago without apologizing. He simply shrugged his shoulders and ran toward his friends who laughed about you.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality. You tend to daydream close to Dean. It’s not as if you ever had the chance to – but you dream about kissing him. “Y/N…”

“I am fine. Let’s get back to the last page and call it a day.” Sam nods, giving you his brightest smile. He would never say a thing, but he knows about your feelings for his brother.

“Hot date?” Teasing you Sam nudges your side. “Do I know the guy?”

“Sure. It’s Chris Evans, but he’s not alone. Sebastian Stan is with him this time.” Chortling you give Sam a wink. “You know no guy would ever date me.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. I would date you anytime.” Scrunching up your nose you shake your head.

“Eek! You are like a little brother to me.” Faking a sigh Sam nods silently.

“Pity. I could rock your world, Pinkie.” A groan leaves your lips at the nickname, but you smile at Sam.

“You know it’s true, Sammy. I am not like other girls. I am nerdy, shy and awkward around guys. I never had a date, Sam. Not a single time a guy invited me.” Closing the book, you give your friend a cracked smile. “I am used to be the one the boys laugh about.”

“I know you will not believe me, but you are beautiful. Jess said you should not wear your hair in a bun, take your glasses off and stop wearing wide clothes! She saw your curves and got jealous.” Sam tries to cheer you up, but you brush his word off.

“I am not beautiful nor sexy. I appreciate your words, I really do, but please stop lying, Sammy.” While you talk to your friend his big brother walks into the kitchen of their shared apartment.

“Only me gets to call him like that,” Dean grumbles and you want to hide under a stone as he eyes you up and down, snorting.

“I allowed her to call me like that. She’s my friend, my best friend and I would appreciate you leave her alone.” Sam grits his teeth, glaring at his brother as Dean won’t stop roaming your body with his eyes.

“A little kid is your friend? She barely looks like a woman. You sure she’s not a toddler?” Dean smirks, searching your face but all he can see are tears well-up and he swallows hard.

“That’s enough!” Slamming his fist onto the table Sam wants to jump up but you hold him back.

“Sam…I suggest we meet at my apartment to study. I don’t think your brother wants a toddler around.” Blinking the tears away you grab your books to run toward the door, not even saying goodbye to your friend.

“Great job, Dean! It’s not as if she does have low self-esteem as no guy ever asked her out.” Snarling the words Sam shakes his head. “A guy like you who had several one-nighters can’t understand her situation, I get it.”

“Sammy…”

“Don’t you dare to Sammy me, asshole! This is my best friend. She always helps me and Jess. You don’t have the right to make fun of her only as she’s smart and shy. I prefer one Y/N over all your sexy chicks. They are not worth the dirt under my friend’s shoes.”

Grabbing his books Sam rushes toward his room, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“Sammy…” Sighing Dean falls onto the chair you occupied moments ago. Your pen still lies on the table and Dean plays with it, still feeling the warmth of your hand.

Over the weekend you hide in your apartment, eat cold pizza and try to forget Dean’s words. You knew he would never look at someone like you twice but he didn’t have to be cruel.

A guy like Dean doesn’t understand how it feels to always be left outside alone.

Your whole life you felt like you didn’t belong.

Your sister is beautiful and self-confident while you are shy and never felt confident enough to talk to a boy.

Sam is an exception. He was the one talking to you first. Jess is a lucky girl, not that you envy her or anything. Sam is like a brother to you but sometimes you wish that Dean would be at least one bit like his brother.

“Forget about him, Y/N. It’s not as you ever had a chance with Dean…” Taking a bite of your cold pizza you look at the picture of you and your sister.

You always stood in her shadow. Born first she already had her place in your family.

She always addressed you as her nerdy baby sister. In the beginning, when you were younger, you thought it’s cute or just to make sure everyone knows she’s your big sister but over the years you realized Justine did it to make you feel small and awkward around her friends.

One day you stopped hanging out with her and stayed in your room, watching your sister and her friends behind a curtain.

Your parents didn’t help you become more self-confident either. Not even your grades made them see you. All they saw was your cheerleader sister and her scholarship.

It’s a shame you were glad to move out to go to Stanford. Still, you miss your family and would love to visit them over the holidays, but they will be away to visit Justine and her boyfriend.

Lost in your self-pity you hear your doorbell ring and you sigh heavily, believing Sam didn’t give up after calling you for around twenty times.

You know your friend means well, but you need a few days to yourself to forget about all the hurtful things Dean said.

“Sammy.” Opening the door, you want to slam it shut when you see the wrong brother stands in front of your apartment. “Go away.”

“I got your pencil, Pinkie,” Dean mutters. “Let me in.”

“You can keep it and only Sammy is allowed to call me like that…” Dean won’t budge. He’s pressing his shoulder against your door, making you gasp at the effort to try to close the door.

“Let me in!”

“Why…?” Grunting you must watch Dean shove you aside to enter your apartment. “Go home!”

“Damn, Sweetheart…” Wrinkling your forehead at the pet name you point toward the door.

“You’ve got pizza and a huge TV!” Snickering Dean sits onto your couch, props his feet onto your table as he stuffs your pizza into his mouth.

“Why are you here?” Closing the door, you glance at the bag Dean dropped to the floor. “Dean?”

“Sammy kicked me out. Said I must apologize to you before I can come back. I am your guest over holidays, Y/N. What will we watch?” Craning his neck Dean shrugs as you stand in your living room, too shocked to react.

“What do you mean with you are my guest? Get out of my apartment.” Smirking Dean lazily licks his lips. You forgot you are only in your boy shorts and a top and he gets a glimpse of your cleavage.

“I must say, I like the view. Now come over here and eat something. Pizza is great.” Throwing your hands up in surrender you walk toward your couch to sit far away from Dean.

“Is it true?”

Confused you glance at Dean who switches the TV on. “TRUE?”

“That you never fucked…” Gaping at Dean, mouth hanging open you can feel your chest tightening. “I mean didn’t you find a guy to pop your cherry.”

“That’s none of your business.” Grumbling you grab your blanket to cover your chest and legs.

“Hmm…” Nodding thoughtfully Dean eyes you up and down. “You’re not that bad.”

“Last time I was a toddler to you. Now go and leave me alone. Your friends bullied me enough for this month.” Not meeting Dean’s eyes, you try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Bully you?” Now Dean shuts off the TV to search your face. “Making a dumb joke isn’t bullying, Sweetheart.”

“For you, Dean. If you call a girl nerdy, ugly and scratch ‘holy virgin’ into her car it’s not making a joke – it’s bullying.” Wiping a few tears away you sniffle silently. “I will have to pay a lot of money to fix my car.”

“They scratched something into your car?” Furrowing his brows Dean tosses the pizza into the carton. “Y/N?”

“Cassie is always the one starting things. She and Lisa talk the guys of your little group into ruining my stuff. First, it was my locker. Then someone stole my old laptop and now my car. It’s always the same…” Shrugging you bring your knees to your chest. “They all have a lot of money, I don’t.”

“Did you tell the dean? I mean you could call the cops or something.” Dean genuinely tries to help you but all you do is brushing him off.

“Sure, Dean. Who do you think will they believe? The nerdy girl needing a scholarship or the rich princess? Her daddy paid for the library by the way.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you glare at Dean. “I tried…okay. After they scratched worthless scum into the locker I told the dean of the faculty. I had a witness, the janitor.”

“What happened?” Scooting closer Dean places his hand onto your thigh but you flinch away. “Y/N?”

“Nothing happened. The janitor lost his job and it got even worse. I called in sick for two weeks only to have a break.” Sniffling you wipe the tears away. “’s okay. One day I am out of here and don’t have to see them again.”

“Sweetheart…” Dean tries to touch your cheek to wipe the tears away, but you slap his hand away.

“Don’t make fun of me. Stop acting as if you care about me. I am the nerdy loser your brother likes - nothing else. Close the door when you leave…” Grabbing your blanket you run toward your bedroom to get away from Dean.

“Shit…son of a bitch…” Dialing his brother's number Dean squares his jaw. “Sammy…she doesn’t want me here. What do you mean with you don’t care?”

Hours passed and you roll over on your bed only to bump into a hard chest. Screaming you push against the man occupying your bed.

“Get out! What are you doing here…?” Dean’s not impressed. Shrugging he closes his eyes to get more sleep but you push him again.

“Your couch is too hard to sleep on. Now shut your pretty mouth and let me sleep.” Smirking he nudges your side and you slap his hand away. “You’re sexy in your nightgown.”

“What the fuck, Dean!” Clutching your blanket to your chest you give the cocky guy in your bed a disapproving look.

“That was the sexiest dirty look ever, Sweetheart. Now sleep and tomorrow I’ll have a look at your car. I am good with cars and my hands.”

Groaning you turn your back toward Dean only for him to move closer to look at the tattoo at your shoulders.

“Wings?” Tracing the lines of the tattoo Dean smiles as he can see the goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I always wished I could just fly away, you know. My parents always adored my sister, just like everyone else. I was invisible and wanted to get away. I like fairies…they are pretty and gracile…”

“Hmmm…” His fingers slide to the other wing as you keep on talking.

“My grandma, she liked fairies too. She bought me one for birthday or Christmas till her death. She liked me the most.” Sniffling you press your blanket to your chest. “Since then I was mostly alone.”

“Sammy likes you. He kicked me out and yelled at me. My brother never did such a thing before. I assume you are a good friend…no a great one.”

Scooting closer Dean looks at the word written under the wings. ‘Alone’ stands in 'bleeding' letters under the wings and Dean’s stomach tightens.

“Can you not be that close? I don’t want to infect you with my awkwardness or something.” Voice bitter your hide your face in your pillow. “I will call Sam tomorrow and make sure I tell him you apologized.”

“Y/N…I am sorry.”

“No, you’re not, Dean.”

“I made breakfast.” Pointing toward the only chair in your kitchen Dean smirks. “I made pancakes, coffee, and bacon.”

“Why?”

“Uh-” Shrugging Dean points toward the plate. “To thank you for letting me sleep in your bed and not strangling me.”

“I am not strong enough to strangle you.” Poking the food with your fork you glance at Dean. “I texted Sam. You can go home.”

“No, no…Sweetheart. I promised to have a look at your car. I help at a garage in town and can use it to work on my car. I can ask Bruce to let me fix your car for free.” Giving you his brightest smile Dean tries to cheer you up but you look away.

“I told you to leave me alone. I don’t know if this is another sick plan coming from Cassie or Lisa, but I will no fall for your lies.” Shoving the plate away you leave the kitchen. “I know guys like you. They never help me or are nice to someone like me.”

“Y/N wait…” Cursing Dean runs after you to cup your face. “I like you…okay. I was a fool but till last month I believed Sammy and you are a thing. I…I like you a lot.” Dean presses his lips to yours and you are too shocked to push him away.

“Dean…”

“You’re so beautiful and smart. Damn, I dreamed of kissing your lips for over four years by now, but you always ignored me.” Narrowing your eyes, you push Dean away.

“I wasn’t the one running you over without apologizing, Winchester. Don’t believe a second you can fool me.” Wiping Dean’s taste off your lips you turn around. “It’s not fair to trick me like that.”

“God, Y/N. I was drunk back then. I ran you over and there was only a blurred image of a person. I stumbled toward my friends and that’s all I remember…” Dean stammers. “Listen. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I do like you.”

“Sure. Pigs can fly and I am the queen of Great Britain.” Snickering Dean wraps his arms around your waist. He’s pecking your neck while you try to break out of his embrace.

“I don’t know about flying pigs, but you would make a nice queen. Now let’s eat breakfast and I’ll have a look at your car.”

“Those assholes! I swear if someone would do this to my Baby they would be dead a second later!” Dean slides his fingers over your car, cursing as someone scratch the hood, driver’s door, and trunk. “I think I can fix this, Sweetheart.”

“The scratches are pretty deep. They took their time to make sure the damage is…” Pointing toward the ugly words you sniffle.

“Cassie wanted to make sure I know she is the one making my life living hell. See the tiny C next to every line?” Nodding Dean slides his finger of the C, hating he ever liked Cassie.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix this for you. I will talk to Cassie to make sure she leaves you the fuck alone. I never thought she would pull such a stunt.”

“Seriously? She bullies every girl who is not in her ‘fan club’.” Deadpanning you gasp as Dean cups your face to press his lips to yours. “Dean…”

“Gosh, I am hungry. How about lunch and we can talk about your car and how you met Sammy.” Grabbing your hand Dean leads you toward his car, smirking as you admire his Impala. “Come on. Get in, Sweetheart.”

You spend the weekend with Dean. Between telling you terrible jokes, asking you what Cassie and Lisa did to you and kissing you he promised to not be a little shit any longer.

When Monday comes you walk into the library to meet up with Jess only to run into Cassie and Lisa. They look pissed and your stomach tightens.

“Did you honestly believe Dean Winchester would give a shit on you? We were laughing so hard about you – pathetic little slut.” Smirking Cassie slaps your cheek.

“He only kissed you to make fun of you, toddler. I bet you got wet and believed he would fuck you! Stupid little girl. This was my plan.” Lisa snickers and you need to hold back the tears.

“Go run home to his little brother but be aware Sam only spends his time with you to use you for his study. No one likes you – and no one will ever like you…”

Barely hearing anything else but your heartbeat in your ears you run out of the library. Stumbling blindly out of the building you run toward the exit. You can’t stay here and watch Dean laugh about you.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” Dean calls your name but you dash forward, not stopping once as he runs after you. “Y/N!”

“What the…Dean?” Sam gasps as Dean runs after you. “Y/N?”

Your feet carry you fast down the street and you are too busy to wipe the tears away to see Cassie’s friends stand on the sidewalk.

“Look at the little girl running home.” One of them tries to grab your arm but you slap his hand away and his friend pushes against your shoulders, causing you to stumble backward.

You can’t react at all, can’t stop your fall or the car hitting you. “Y/N! NO!” Sam outruns his brother to rush to your side. “Someone call 911!”

“You! I will kill you!” While Dean is busy to beat the guy pushing you into a pulp Sam whispers soothing words into your ear as he tries to stop the bleeding at your forehead.

“DEAN! I need your help. Stop beating that asshole! We have enough witnesses to get him arrested. Now help me stop the bleeding.”

Sam strokes your cheek, tries to make you smile but your head hurts and you still hear Cassie’s words in your mind.

“Why did you run away?” Sam whispers sitting onto the bed next to you. “Pinkie?”

“Cassie, she told me…” Choking on your words you tell Sam everything that happened over the weekend. That you believed Dean’s lies and that he must’ve laughed about you with his friends.

“I will be right back, okay. Jess will come here after classes. She asked how you are doing.” Nodding you give Sam a cracked smile. “I swear nothing Cassie said about me or Jess is true.”

“I know…”

Dean is pacing in front of your room, grunting as he must watch Sam touch your cheek and whisper something into your ear.

“Finally!” When Sam leaves your room, his brother is ready to attack him. “Stop touching, Y/N! She’s mine and you can’t get all cozy with her. I am her boyfriend!” Dean yells glaring at his baby brother. “You will never touch her again.”

“Dean.” Sighing Sam shakes his head. “That’s the least thing Y/N needs. She got hurt.” Glancing at your hospital room Sam blinks the tears away. “Physically and emotionally, Dean. How could you do this to her?”

“I did nothing.” Grumbling Dean steps closer to your room, looking at you lie in your bed while the nurse checks on your head.

“Don’t lie to me! Cassie told her everything. How can she know you called Y/N toddler and kissed her? Huh?” Poking his finger into Dean’s chest Sam grits his teeth. “She knew everything.”

“This can’t be. I only told Brady about what happened over the holidays. I asked him for advice on how to show Y/N I like her. He would never…” Grumbling Dean looks at his brother. “I swear I didn’t trick her…”

“Prove it! But for now – stay away from my friend.” Sam storms into your room, slamming the door into his big brother’s face.

Dean had to wait another hour before he could sneak into your room. Now he’s inside, offering you roses but you refuse to even look at him.

“Sweetheart.” Sighing Dean sits next to you on the bed. “I swear she lied. I asked Brady for advice and told him what I did. I… I thought you like me, and you know I like you…”

“I don't want to talk about that - it's all water under the bridge now". You sniffle silently. "I will never mean shit to you."

“Y/N, please look at me. I…I love you. I fell for you the moment you tripped over my feet and gave me a dirty look. I was just to chicken to admit my feelings.” Rubbing your back Dean looks at your broken arm.

“You don’t want me. How could you like someone like me? A nerdy virgin who doesn’t even know how to kiss…” Sniffling you blink the tears away.

“I…fuck it.” Leaning closer Dean brushes his lips over your ear shell to whisper something into your ear. “I never had sex before, Y/N.”

“What?” Eyes wide you look at Dean. “But…but Sammy said you…I mean…” Flustered Dean clears his throat.

“I had a blowjob or a handjob but I never…I mean you know…” Dean’s face is bright red and you slowly sit up to touch his cheek.

“You never?” Shaking his head Dean pecks your lips. “I mean oral is sex too…”

“Crap, Y/N. Can you stop making fun of me? I never had my cock inside a vagina…there…I said it.” Giggling you wrap your arm around his neck. “But I’d like to do it with you one day.”

“Cassie lied?” Humming Dean wraps his arms around you. “She’s a bitch.”

“So…can I bring you home and we watch TV and eat cold pizza? We could invite Sammy and Jess over and call it a party.”

“Only if you pay for a fresh pizza.” Nodding Dean grins before his lips claim yours in a soft kiss. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Sweetheart…”

>>Part 2 - Dancing in the moonlight

SPN Forever Tags

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Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

When You’re Ready Ch. 17

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.6k (Am I sorry? Absolutely not.)

Warnings: Angst and cussing.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @mrs-raleighcarrera @mercury84choices @curiousconch

Chapter 17: Truly, Madly, Deeply.

I'll love you more with every breath Truly, madly, deeply do I will be strong I will be faithful 'Cause I'm counting on A new beginning A reason for living A deeper meaning, yeah

“I’m an asshole.”

Aurora stared at Bryce leaning against the wall with his face buried in his forearm and his shoulders slumped. Defeated. Ashamed. Mortified.

“Bryce, if I told you this is not to make you feel worse than you already feel, it’s because you had understandable reasons to be mad. This whole situation between Eleanor and Ethan is… complicated and adding the information Elijah gave it to you only made things worse.”

Bryce stood straight and faced his friend, his eyes glistening.

“Understandable reasons. Thinking that Eleanor slept with Ramsey and she would dump me it’s an understandable reason to ignore her even if she had never given me any reasons to distrust her? I think not. It’s awful.”

His voice was full of regret and desperation, and even if seeing Bryce like that was painful for her, she didn’t regret her decision.

“You got caught in a misunderstanding. I bet you thought the worst because you’re afraid and that’s understandable. Now you know the truth and you can move on.”

“Move on?—He turned around and started pacing around the hallway trying to contain his anger.—"How can I move on if I know the last three days could’ve been so much different and I…”

“Bryce, stop there.”—Aurora snapped, serious. —"You have to stop wallowing in what-ifs and should’ves right now, because is not going to lead you anywhere, and is not going to help Eleanor either. She needs you. You’re the person she needs the most now, so you have to be in your best shape and mood to help her. Your feelings are important, but right now you have to focus on her.”

Bryce stopped in the middle of the hallway and sighed loudly, then he nodded and looked up at Aurora.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, I don’t lose control this easily, it’s just…”

It’s just that he couldn’t imagine a life without Eleanor, and he couldn't live with the fact that he could've held her, and kiss her, and love her the last three days but he didn't because he was blind and scared.

His breath started raging and he winced, trying to contain the emotions that were overwhelming him. The idea of losing her was becoming more palpable than ever.

“It’s okay, Bryce. You love her, she’s your girlfriend, I’d be more worried if you hadn’t lost your shit by now. Come here.”

Aurora pulled him into a hug, and he wrapped her instantly as if holding her was like clinging to the last drop of sanity he had left.

Guilt had always been his weak spot. He learned it when he left Keiki in Maui and never came back, and to this day he was still dealing with the consequences and trying to make up for the lost time.

And now he was dealing with another kind of guilt, and facing death was making everything worse. The effects were instant, devastating, and maddening.

After a minute of herculean effort to not crying his soul out, Bryce pulled away from Aurora, feeling more serene and like a lot of weight had been taken off his shoulders.

“Thank you, Aurora.”—He muttered, staring deeply at her chocolate eyes, trying to convey his feelings.— “You’re an amazing friend.”

If it wasn’t for her, Bryce would’ve drowned in guilt, shame, and self-loathing to a depth so dangerous, it would've taken an impossible effort to come afloat by himself.

Aurora smiled at him and shook him by the shoulders.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be there for you. You’re not alone.”

“Likewise.”

“Dr. Lahela?”

Bryce turned around and found a nurse a few feet away, looking at them cautiously, almost sorry for interrupting the intimate moment.

“Yes, Marlene?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Eleanor’s family for a couple of hours, but no success. Dr. Ramsey told me you probably have an alternative number? Or maybe you could have access to Eleanor’s phone so we could get another number?”

“And what numbers do you have?”

“Her family emergency contact was her mom’s cellphone and a landline in Cincinnati.”

“And none of them works?”

“The cellphone is out of service, and no one answers in her house.”

Bryce frowned, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he nodded.

“Oh. Of course. Eleanor’s parents aren’t in the city. They went to Chile to spend the national holidays with her mom’s family. We should try with her brother, he’s in college in Michigan. Where’s Eleanor’s phone?”

“It’s at the Diagnostics Office, with the rest of her belongings.”

Bryce and Aurora entered the empty office. In the center of the round table was a plastic bag with Eleanor’s clothes, shoes, and her phone. Bryce grabbed her phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint without a moment's hesitation.

Aurora chuckled without hiding the surprise in her eyes.

“What?”

“One thing is knowing her password, but adding your fingerprint?”

“It’s faster when you wanna put a song on Spotify.—He shrugged with a nonchalant expression on his face.—"She has access to mine too.”

Aurora and Marlene shared a knowing smile, but he didn’t notice it.

Bryce scrolled through Eleanor’s contacts list. When he found “Benja”, he dialed instantly. After several rings, a whispering voice was heard on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Andrew? I’m in class right now.”

“Um, hello Benjamin, this is Bryce Lahela.”—He said softly.

“Bryce Lahela… oh, shoot. Hello. You’re my sister’s boyfriend, right?”

“Y… Yes. Can we talk? I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, wait a second.”

While he was waiting, Bryce couldn’t help but feel shivers down his spine. It was the first time he was talking to a member of Eleanor’s family, and even if he knew her family was aware of their relationship, it made him feel nervous reaching this milestone, especially under terrible circumstances, and after the doubts he had been feeling the past few days.

“Okay, I’m out. Something happened?”

Bryce tried to balance the concern of a boyfriend with the calmness and professionalism acquired in his medical career to not shock Benjamin more than necessary.

“Unfortunately, yes. There was an assassination attempt on a Senator here in Edenbrook, it was Eleanor’s patient, and she was caught in the middle. The hospital tried to contact your mother, but as she’s in Chile, I decided to contact you directly.”

“Shit. Yes, you did the right thing. How is she? What happened exactly?”

“She’s stable at the moment. This assassin used a canister with an unknown substance, so the hospital is working to figure out what was inside as soon as possible. It already killed a man, and there’s a nurse in a coma."

“Oh my god, no…”

Bryce could sense the pain Benjamin was feeling even if he couldn’t see him. He knew how much Eleanor adored her brother, so it was natural that Benjamin would feel the same way about her. And knowing his sister was in danger of course would cause this type of reaction, especially being away.

“Is she awake? Can I speak with her?”

“She’s in quarantine, so is kind of difficult to let you talk through the phone, but I can try.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I… I’ll fly as soon as I can to Boston.”

“Do you have a number so we can call your parents?”

“I’ll do it. I have my grandma’s landline, that’s the quickest way to contact mom.”

“Okay, then. Let me know if you need anything, alright? Do you have money to fly here?”

“Yes, I have a credit card to use in case of emergencies. Thank you, Bryce.”

“No problem.”

After a few more questions and Bryce giving him his number, Benjamin hung up. If he was lucky, he would be able to land in Boston in three hours.

“Okay, Benjamin is going to contact Eleanor’s parents and once he's here, they'll have a video call with the Team so they can inform Eleanor’s state more detailly.”

“Understood. Thank you so much, Dr. Lahela. I’ll let know Dr. Ramsey.”

“No problem, glad I could help.”

When Bryce grabbed his own phone to save Benjamin’s number, he noticed he had several missed calls and messages from Keiki.

“Bryce, I read that something happened at the hospital. Please answer me.” “I know you probably are in the OR but please call me when you see this” “Are you okay?”

Bryce sighed and dialed her number.

“Bryce? Oh my god, how are you? Why you didn’t answer!”

“I was at the surgery, Keiki. I told you it would last long”—He lied, but regretted it the second he let out the words.

“I know, but… I was worried, the news are saying the police is in the hospital, that someone tried to kill a Senator. Is that true?”

Bryce pondered his words. There was no point in lying, sooner or later she would find out, and it was better if it was from him. So he told her the truth. That the rumors she saw on the news were true, and that Eleanor was in danger. Keiki was desperate and wanted to come over to the hospital to see her, but even if he needed his sister here, he had to play the responsible and serious older brother for once in his life.

“Keiki, it’s better if you stay at home. Is too dangerous here and I think Eleanor would kill me if I let you come over.”

She chuckled.

“That’s true. Better not give her a hard time.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, but please, keep me informed.”

“I will. And if you need anything, please call me, and stay safe. I’m probably staying here tonight.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Please send Ella all my love if you see her, okay?”

“Sure, thank you, sis."

Three hours later, Bryce was deep in thoughts sitting in a chair near the atrium, when he saw the vivid image of Eleanor walking towards him. He had to blink several times.

“Damn, pictures give you an idea, but I didn’t know you and Elle were so alike.— He joked, standing up from the chair and offering his hand to the guy in front of him. —"Hello Benjamin, nice to meet you.”

The situation wasn’t appropriate for jokes, but somehow Bryce felt like he needed to kill the tension from the start. Eleanor had told him her brother was ongoing and nice, and it just felt right to act that way with him, instead of serious and gloomy.

Benjamin returned the handshake and smiled.

He was way taller than Eleanor but not taller than him, and he had an athletic body, even if he wasn't on any sports team at college. He was just a soccer and basketball aficionado, or at least that’s what Eleanor had told him.

“Nice to meet you too, Bryce. For what it's worth, you’re as handsome as you seem in Ellie’s Pictogram. Thought you were using some Ken filter, but nope, that’s really you.—Benja teased, containing a laugh.

Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle.

“100% real, no weird filters, I promise.”

“Any updates?”

“None. She’s stable and was sedated right after we spoke the first time, so she should be awake by now. The rest is working in the labs trying to find out what could’ve been inside the canister.”

“And you’re not going?”

“I was hired as moral support. My friends are more expert in that field than me, I’m just a surgeon.”—Bryce replied sheepishly, shrugging.

“But the best surgical resident or that’s what I’ve heard.”

His eyes widened for a second, but then Bryce shook his head, amused.

“She told you that?”

“That and other fangirly praises like “oh, he’s so cute, so charming, and talented, the best surgeon, he’s amazing.”

His heart did a flip. He never expected Eleanor would talk about him like that to her brother. Or that she would talk about him at all.

“You must be really impressive to have my sister babbling like a teenager at the age of 27.”

“What can I say? I’m a total catch.”—Bryce gave him his characteristic charming smile, feeling somehow relieved for a moment. It was like Benjamin was giving him the same relaxed and nice vibes he always felt around Eleanor.

Benjamin laughed and Bryce’s heart did another flip as he saw traces of Eleanor’s smile in him. She was everywhere. In the shape of his eyes, the way he quirked his brows, in his grin, even he could hear her in his still marked Ohioan accent.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cocky too, ask my friends and everyone will say a round yes, but your sister doesn’t deserve any less.”

“I agree completely.”

After a few minutes, Bryce and Benjamin stood in front of the quarantined room. Eleanor was half-asleep staring at Rafael, who was sleeping.

“Andrew”—Benjamin muttered.

Eleanor was extremely pale, her eyes were puffy, and her lips parched and cracked, but the moment she opened her eyes and recognized Benjamin, her whole face brightened with love and surprise.

“Benja! Ohmygod! What are you doing here?”

“Bryce contacted me so I had to come to see you. How are you?”

Eleanor stood up with difficulty. When she reached the door, her eyes were full of tears.

“Bebé… I’m… well, I’ve been better, but right now I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too, sis.”

Both siblings shared a smile, the same kind smile, and Bryce couldn't help but mirror them.

“Well, I leave you to it. I’ll let Dr. Ramsey know you’re here so you can have the meeting with your parents.”

Bryce turned to leave but Eleanor stopped him.

“Bryce, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, thank you for calling my brother.”

Eleanor gave him a tender smile, full of thankfulness and adoration.

“Yeah, thank you, Bryce, for all you’ve done for my sister.”—Benjamin added, earnestly.

“It’s nothing. Let me know if you need anything.”

And he left the siblings catching up with their lives, the younger trying to cheer up the older with the usual jokes and mocks siblings have.

Hours later, Eleanor paged to report a new symptom Rafael had manifested before falling into a coma. Hopefully, it would be the key to find the answer they’ve been trying to reach all day.

“Bryce?”—Aurora murmured, approaching him in the hallway. “Dr. Ramsey wants to talk to you, he’s in his personal office.”

When Bryce turned to her he didn’t need a second glance to read the panic in her eyes. He gulped and then forced himself to smile at Eleanor.

“See you later, gorgeous.”

Bryce walked to the office as fast as he could. When he reached Ethan’s office, he breathed deeply before getting in. As he opened the door, he found the attending looking at the window, pensive. He looked small and fragile, and when Bryce stood behind him, he saw how haggard he was in the reflection of the window. After a few moments, Ethan turned to face him, and he didn’t even bother to hide his feelings.

“Do you know what’s in the canister?”

“Yes. June was right. It’s…”.—Ethan cleared his throat, brows knitted in worry.—“ It’s a maitotoxine.”

“Maitotoxine? I think I’m not familiar with the name.”

“It’s an extremely potent toxin commonly found in fish, but this… this toxin is something I’ve never seen before. Not June, not Baz…”—Ethan shoved his hand through his hair, evidencing his frustration.

“What does this mean?”—Bryce said in a tiny voice, already knowing what Ethan was about to say.

“There is no antidote for this, Bryce.”

For a moment, Bryce felt like he would faint, his mind went clouded, and lost track of space and time. His body wasn’t strong enough to process such information. Such undeniable and hurtful truth.

What he had been fearing all day was now materializing.

“And what are you going to do? Can you create an antidote or modify another one with a similar molecular structure? That has been done lots of times.”

“Yes, that’s what we are hoping to do. Aurora informed me that a group of doctors from Mass Kenmore is coming to Edenbrook to help, so we’ll have the best minds working on an antidote.”

But they had to have it before it’s too late.”

“You have to… you have to find the antidote, Ethan. She can’t die… She…”

Bryce suddenly got out of breath. The desperation was brewing again. The pain was inexorable. He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I can’t lose her. Ethan, please… You have to...”

He couldn’t tell when happened, but all at once, he found himself drowning in sobs and with large tears streaming past his neck, reaching his chest.

He did his best to not succumb to his feelings in the OR because Kyra needed him, and he couldn't fail her nor Eleanor.

He managed to hold it while he was with Aurora because there was still hope and Aurora forced him to focus on Eleanor.

He was doing fine keeping his hopes high, trusting they would find out what was in the canister and then set a treatment and everything would be alright.

But there was no cure, no antidote.

Even if one hundred doctors were working on it, no one could assure him that they could do it before it’s too late. Before she’s gone.

He didn't even want to think in a world without her, but the sole draft, just a slight hint of it was devastating, unbearable.

He started gasping for air. His guts were shaking uncontrollably. The lump he felt in his throat at OR was now bigger and even more painful. His entire body was numb.

This was a living nightmare.

After a few seconds, Bryce took a chair and sat down before his legs could fail him. Ethan did the same.

“We have to stay positive, Bryce. Many of us have experience with research and with the help of Mass Kenmore and your friends, I’m sure will be on time to fight the toxin.”

“I wanna believe that, I’ve been believing this shit all day, Ethan. But… if it’s too late. I…”—He rubbed his face with both hands, his face red and wet with tears. Then he buried his face in his hands.—“She doesn’t deserve this… She can’t die… Please…”

Ethan patted him in the shoulder, comfortingly, his eyes haunted with fear and sadness.

“Bryce, I won’t let anything happen to Eleanor ...”—He hesitated for a moment, pondering his next words.— “You know what she means to me. I know you do. And I’ll do everything I can to save her, I promise. Whatever it takes. I won’t let anything happen to her. "

Bryce looked at him defeated.

“If I could, I would do it too, but I’m so useless. I feel so useless.”

"No, Bryce, on the contrary, you have done for her more than any of us could. If she’s still able to have a smile on her face despite the hell she’s living, if she’s still standing is not only because she’s incredibly strong. It’s because she has you. You’re part of the reason she hasn’t fallen into a coma yet.”

There was a painful rawness in those words. In another time and circumstances, Ethan would have never been able to say it aloud, mostly for pride and because he didn’t use to open to anyone. But not today. His love for Eleanor was selfless enough to let him recognize that if she was doing good was because of Bryce, and she had given him enough bravery to accept it out loud in front of the person she had chosen over him. Because Ethan only needed one second of watching Eleanor looking at Bryce to realize she was in love with him.

The only person Eleanor needed, was Bryce.

Ethan’s words felt like an absolute and relieving certainty to Bryce, mostly because who was saying it was the person he would expect it the less, and it gave him the strength he needed to keep going. To keep being there for Eleanor in this difficult night.

“Thank you, Ethan.”—Bryce said after a while, regaining breath and clarity.

The attending nodded and then stood up from the chair.

“Come on, we have to speak with Eleanor, and she’ll need you by her side.”

Eleanor was hopeless. Bryce could tell how the slight hope she had inside her had vanished with the news.

“We’ll do our best to find the antidote. Just keep fighting Eleanor.”—Elijah reassured.

The doctors from Mass Kenmore and the rest of their friends started to go. Sienna was heading Benjamin to the fifth floor so he could have some rest. He didn’t want to leave the hospital in case something happened.

And then, there was only Ethan and Bryce outside the room.

Eleanor smiled at Ethan, noticing how troubled and scared he was, as if he didn’t want to leave her there, knowing things could go wrong anytime and he couldn’t say goodbye. But he knew it wasn’t his place to be anymore. He knew it was Bryce’s.

“Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”

“We’ll make it, Eleanor. Keep fighting just as you’ve been doing until now.”—He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment, before turning around and leave Bryce alone in the hallway.

Bryce watched him leave, and when he looked at Eleanor, her swelling eyes were already on him, clinging onto him even if she couldn’t touch him. Like his eyes were strong and powerful enough to hold her to life.

She was tired. She was giving up.

“It’s gonna be okay, Elle, I promise.”

“It won’t. How they’re going to create an antidote in just a few hours? Raf and Danny are in a coma, they could go at any moment, so do I."

“Yes, it could happen at any moment, but that moment could take hours, even days, and I’m sure the team will have it on time. They have a lot of brilliant people working on it, with tons of experience. They’ll make it, I know.”

Eleanor shook her head hastily, sobbing.

“It’s just I’m so tired, Bryce. I… I can’t take it anymore, I’m tired of being strong and show hope and shit, I want this to be over, I’m done.”

“I know you are, babe. You have been so strong and brave, it’s understandable that you want a break. You deserve it, but you have to keep fighting, okay?”

“The only reason I’m doing it it’s because of you. Because somehow you don’t let me fall. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would be still standing. I don’t know I’d be here. I wouldn’t be that strong.”

Bryce smiled tenderly at her puffed eyes.

“You would. Don’t you know it already, Eleanor? That strength that you have is all you. You have it inside you. You always have.”

“Don’t you know it already, Bryce? You make me stronger. You know it’s true.”

“Glad to be of service.”—He flashed her a smile that made her smile too.—“But this is mostly you.”

“I wish I could hold you right now. I miss you so much.”

“Maybe you can.”

“How?”

“There’s another hazmat suit out here. I could go inside and make you company for a while. I hate the idea of you being alone in a moment like this.”

“Would you do that for me?”

“How dare to ask that, Eleanor Andrea Bloom? You know I would do anything for you.”

Eleanor bit his lower lip, compassing her sobs for a moment.

“I’d love to have you here with me.”

“That’s it, then.”

A few minutes later, Bryce entered the room with the hazmat suit on, and a dashing smile adorning his face.

“Well, what do you think? Am I still handsome? Or am I somehow more handsome? Be honest.”—He said flirtily.

She shook her head, chuckling.

“God, how I missed you, Johnny Bravo.”—She said looking at him from head to toes.—"I think it’s your best look yet. You’ll catch a lot of babes with that.”

“Ah,”—He growled, taking slow steps towards her— “but you know there’s just one babe I want, and I have it right here in front of me.”

Eleanor looked up at him, almost not believing he was in front of her, that she was able to touch him.

In an intent to believe it, she cut the distance and wrapped Bryce in a tight embrace.

“You’re here, you’re really here.”

“You’re not the only one who was dying for a hug, you know? Especially after all the opportunities, I wasted in these few days."

Bryce tightened his hold, almost scared that Eleanor would vanish into thin air any second now.

“Elle, I’m…”

“Shhh… Not now.”

He nodded and both remained silent, savoring the embrace, the sweet feeling of having each other in their arms. Even if they couldn’t feel the warmth and smell they loved so much, feeling their arms wrapped around those so well known curves was sufficient. It brought them joy, peace. A sense of reality in the middle of that living hell.

After a minute, her limbs started trembling and her breath got short.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you to bed.”

Bryce took her hand and helped her laid down. Then, somehow, he managed to squeeze in the bed beside her.

“How’s that?”

“Much, much better.”—Eleanor placed a hand over his waist and then added: —“My brother really liked you. A lot.”

“I know. I liked him too.”

“You know?”

“I told him I was a total catch, cause I am, and he agreed with me. That totally means that he likes me, right?”

“Bryce…”—She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“What? It’s the truth! I didn’t force him to agree or anything! I mean, you did half the job by telling him all those incredible things about me.”

“He told you that? Oh, that brat!”

Bryce shrugged, amused while Eleanor shook her head.

I’m glad you finally get to know each other, and you actually liked each other.”

"I mean, it's hard not to. He's really nice and you've told me so much about him I feel like I've known him for a long time."

“I think something like that happened to me with Keiki, even if I had absolutely no idea about her existence before I met her”—Eleanor teased, feigning annoyance.

“Keiki… She’s been worried about you all day. She was crazy to come up here, but I told her you would kill me if she came. But I’ve been giving her updates every hour.”

“Oh, yes. I would’ve been so fucking mad, Bryce Lahela. I’m glad you kept her safe.”—Then she sighed.—"The poor thing, must be all alone. You should go to see her.”

“I know, but I can’t leave you here, Elle.”

“Would it be too selfish of me if I tell you I don’t want you to leave?”

“No. Not at all.”—His look softened.—“I don’t want to leave, either. In fact, I won’t leave your side, Eleanor.”

Bryce gave him a tiny smiled and they stared at each other, savoring once again the moment of being together. After a while, Eleanor laughed.

“What is it?”

“You look so fucking handsome, Bryce, it’s ridiculous, and I look like shit. I’m done a complete mess.”

Bryce chuckled, spotting the dark circles around her eyes, her tousled hair, how pale she was. He really hadn’t noticed how bad she looked.

“Yeah, you look like shit”—He teased.—"But you know what? You’re still the most beautiful creature in the universe, princess.”

Her eyes were swelling with tears, and a moment later, a sob escaped her mouth.

“Okay, okay, I take it back,”—He added seconds, later, noticing her swelling eyes. “you don’t look like shit, you look amazing, babe, incredible. Ready for a Vogue photoshoot. Ready for the Oscars.”

Bryce couldn’t tell if what escaped her mouth was a sob or a giggle, but her face had lightened somehow.

Somehow, he managed to end her anguish and ease her pain.

Somehow.

He didn’t know how.

As if it was pure luck.

But she perfectly knew it wasn’t luck.

“Gosh, Bryce…”—She couldn’t continue. It felt like she was out of breath.—"Bryce I…”

She brought her hands to the side of his head, her thumbs over the face shield as if she was caressing his cheeks.

She locked eyes with him, and that look, that adoring look made him feel millions of shivers through his all body. Those dreamy tender eyes managed to convey all the emotions that were brewing inside her.

And Bryce was finally, finally able to see it, after missing it so many times that day.

“Te amo.”

He was at last, at last able to hear it, after longing for it for so long.

Her eyes were looking directly into his soul, into his heart, pouring everything she had inside to fill him with the most sincere and sweet love. With adoration, admiration, tenderness. With the purest feelings anyone could imagine.

And those two words sounded like relief. Like she had been choking and those words out loud were acting like the air she had been needing for so long.

“I love you so, so, so much, Bryce.”

And her eyes now were even fuller with adoration and candor. Full of happiness and life, even if ten minutes ago she had been feeling ready to die.

“I… I wish I had realized sooner, and these weren’t the circumstances where I’m able to say it… but if I don’t make it, I don’t want to go without you knowing what I feel about you.”

“Babe, you’ll make it, you don’t need to do this just because you’re here.”

“I’m doing this because that’s how I truly feel. I’m in love with you.”

“You really are?”

Even if he had been waiting for those words for months, he couldn’t believe it. Even if he had been receiving signs all day, from different people, he still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. Yesterday I was finally able to see it, but it has been there for a while.”

“How so?”

“I’ll explain it later. You need to know some things first.”

“Okay.”

“As you know, I went to Ethan’s apartment after the game.”

“Aha.”

And she told him everything that happened that night. She didn’t keep anything. Well, except the personal stuff Ethan had shared with her, but the confession, the things he promised her, the kiss, how she felt after that, what she talked with Aurora. Everything. Because she had nothing to hide and he deserved to know everything, just as it always had been.

“And I just like that, I realized that I was over him. Just like you said. I was in front of the Ethan I used to love, telling me he loved me, offering me everything. But it turned out I… I didn’t want him anymore.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this painful to you. I had no idea you had been hurt so much.”

“Yeah, I had it blocked, but I’m sure I would’ve told you if it wasn't the case.

Bryce stroke her hair in the most tender way he could, his eyes haunted.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m for being so distant and an ass with you. I should’ve let you talk, but I was afraid of what you would tell me”

“I know. I know and I completely understood it. But I can’t deny that at some point I was afraid that… I hurt you to the point of you not wanting anything to do with me anymore. That going with Ethan that night was the last straw and that no matter what happened between him and me, you… you would want to break up."

“No, of course not. How could I decide something like that without a warning? And with something I pushed you to do? No. I was just… trying to delay the inevitable. The suffering of knowing that you gave him a chance.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I realized that I was in love with you instead. At last.”

“Are you sure about that? You know there’s no need to hurry…”

“Bryce, why is so hard to believe it? Should I shout it with a megaphone, or maybe post photos and stories on my Pictogram telling that I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you so you can believe me? Because I’m willing to.”

Bryce laughed, incredulous.

“Truly, Madly, Deeply. Damn. Just like that Savage Garden song?”

“The very same. I like the 90s.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

She bit her lower lip, smiling.

“I cannot believe how blind I was. It has been there, the whole time!”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s…”

Her whole face lit up with that sunny smile he loved so much. For a moment, he forgot where they were.

“It’s in the way I look at you, like a fool. Like I was fifteen. It’s the fact that you’re my first thought in the morning and my last one before going to sleep. You’re the first person I think of when something good happens, or when something bad happens too. In your arms is where I feel safe, and I know there's no other place I'd rather be. And god, I laugh with all your jokes, even the bad ones, and I don't find you cocky anymore because all that you say about yourself is true, and I think about you all the damn day, Bryce. I’m all day wanting for the day to end so I can see you and kiss you. And…”

Eleanor stopped for a moment, trying to catch some breath. Bryce shook his head. He had the stupidest smile she had ever seen on him. The same smile she was sure she had on her face right now.

“Another example? My brother. I haven’t been able to stop talking about you. It wasn’t like this from the beginning, but now I’ve just realized that the last few weeks I haven’t done anything but tell him, or my mom, how happy I am with you. I’ve been even imagining how it would be if I ever introduce you to my abuela. I bet she would adore you the moment she meets you, and she would love you more than me, and would cook your favorite meal, and would give you the last spoon of ice cream and… and I really don’t care, because you deserve it. You deserve the last spoon of ice cream, and my grandma’s meals, and … Everything. You deserve everything, Bryce. I don’t know what else to say. I’m in love with you like a teenager, and I feel like never before. What did you do to me?”

He smiled, tears of joy streaming down his face. That slump in his throat hurt again, but for different reasons. It was for the absolute tenderness and adoration he was feeling inside his chest. Admiration. Love. God. He couldn’t understand how he could love her so much. How much she meant to him. How happy and complete she made him feel. He had never felt this for anybody before, he knew it already, but now he was realizing he would never feel this way for anybody else, ever.

“I’m crazy about you too, Eleanor. I’ve been holding these feelings for so long to not scare you or pressure you, but god, I feel the same way. I think about you all day, and every time I think about the future, you’re in there.”

“That’s a relief, because for a moment I thought I was being too cheesy and clingy.”

“Babe, you’re always cheesy. You can’t help it around me.”

“You created a monster, Bryce Lahela.”

“I like cheese. I would eat cheese all day. And for the record, I would definitely share the last spoon of ice cream with you"

Bryce winked at her and then pressed her body against his.

“God, I wish I could kiss you.”

“You will.”

“But I want to kiss you noooow."

Eleanor pouted and butterflies fluttered ferociously in his stomach. She made him feel like fifteen too.

“Well, miss impatience, is nice to finally meet you.”

"Tell me that you're not dying to kiss me right now."

“I am. But we’ll have to manage with what we have for now.”

“How so?”

“Imagination. How would you like me to kiss you the next time?”

“If there’s a next time.”

Bryce scowled her and squeezed her waist.

“There will be. You’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How will you want me to kiss you after you get out of here.”

“Mmm… I think… Slow and sweet, just like our ‘first kiss’ at Isabella’s”

“Mmm what a good kiss. Cute and romantic.”

“Or maybe passionate and breathtaking, just like that kiss at the beach, on your birthday. God, I can’t decide!”

“Don’t worry, we can always try both.”

“I hope so.”

“We will. You have to believe me.”

“Okay. I believe you. If I die, I’ll come to visit you every night, Bryce Lahela.”

“Lucky for me you won’t die. I would hate to have your ghost every night by my side and not being able to kiss you and do you dirty things.”

“Bryce!”—Eleanor giggled. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Bring me that dreamy kiss now!”

“Close your eyes.”

Eleanor obeyed and closed her eyes.

“Remember that night at the Museum?”

“I could never forget”—She muttered—.

Bryce took her hand and with the tip of her fingers, he brushed her lips delicately, exposing her inner lip for a moment. Then with her thumb, he caressed her mouth.

“I will kiss you sweetly and delicately while I hold you by the waist, transmitting how much I love you, how much you mean to me. How happy I am to have you in my life.”

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, smiling.

“That night was perfect.”

“Yeah, and you looked gorgeous.”

“But you, you were stunning in that silky pink shirt… And the night was so nice. Warm and starry. Oh, and there was music playing.”

“Yes, that slow jazz… When I fall in love… It will be forever”—He sang slowly.

“Or I’ll never fall in love…”—She continued.—“You remember the song?”

“Obviously. It played on my mind on repeat for like two weeks.”

“Oh. That means you had that kiss playing on repeat on your head for two weeks?”

“I plead the fifth.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I, for one, thought about that kiss a lot in the following days. Another example of how goofy you leave me.”

“Good I wasn’t the only one.”

Suddenly, her smile faded, and Eleanor looked at him earnestly.

“Thank you for taking a chance on us that night, Bryce. Since that day you’ve given me nothing but happiness. And I’m sure that from that day there was no returning point for me. Sooner or later I would fall for you, and I’m glad I finally did.”

“I would do it a million times, in a heartbeat, Eleanor.”

“And I’d choose you a million times, over and over again. I only wish that none of those million times had to involve me dying just when I realized I was in love with you.”

“You’ll make it, babe. I have so much love to give you, that I won’t let you go so easily.”

_____

A/N: Hello! If you make it this far, I have to thank you! I know it was a super long chapter, but it was really important (for the story and for me) and I honestly didn’t want to save words, nor split it in two chapters.

If I had to resume Bryce in this chapter in two words those would be: Husband material. And next chapter will be husband material x3264546.

Thank you for all your support, I hope you liked this chapter. I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments.

A big hug to each and every one of you!

A/N2: *spoiler* Graphic description of Eleanor after chapter 17:

I think it works the other way around too 😂

#Bryce Lahela #Ethan Ramsey #Choices #Choices Stories You Play #Bryce Lahela x MC #Bryce x MC #Open Heart Choices #Open Heart fics #Open Heart

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leebrontide · 4 years

Text

A true, 30 year, tropetastic, queer love story. (Part 1)

Pls open the link if you'd like to read a 30 year, trope-tastic true queer romance featuring pining, instalove, swords, childhood-friends-to-lovers and a happy ending.

We THINK the story begins in 1991. We know it starts at theatre day-camp for kids, a summer when we were both in elementary school.

The earliest memories are vague- I remembered a super cool kid from the older class with dark eyes who I was desperate to eat lunch with every day.

It's taken us years to reconstruct the timeline. We have figured out I did go to her house outside of camp that first year, because I remember her bird that tried to bite me. We can only guess at years based on camp themes.

Because we were little kids. I was 7. So we lost touch.

But here's the thing- we kept going to the same camp. She was always in a class ahead of me, because I'm a year and a half younger.

And every year- apparently without remembering we'd met before? We became summer best friends. Drawn together over and over.

But, being disorganized kids in a world of lesser tech, every year, when camp ended, we lost phone numbers- we lived a good 30 minutes away from each other, so I have to imagine our parent's weren't exactly heartbroken at the loss. It was a lot of driving.

In 4th grade, when I was 9, I made a new best friend, named Meredith. My parents heartily recommended the summer theatre camp to hers, and she was sent with me, the next year.

She, was older than me, so she was in Ty's class. & having excellent taste, also made friends with her.

The three of us played together all summer.

Then came the fall, and the inevitable lost contact. I remember being sad about that much more clearly, that year.

BUT, the big change happened when I was 10.

Again, sent to camp. Again, my friend Meredith was there to.

At lunch, I found them playing together. I went to introduce myself to the obviously cool older girl.

For some reason I tried to shake her hand? Little weirdo.

Ty reacts to me the same way- oh hey! Cool new person! I want to be friends!

Meredith looks at us both like we're out of our minds.

"You know each other. We played all last summer."

And suddenly, the spell of childhood amnesia was broken.

I DID know her. We were FRIENDS.

We HAD BEEN FRIENDS for years.

She LIKED ME.

SHE LIKED ME.

(love with memory disabilities is a trip, folks. And her lil ADHD kid brain was struggling right alongside mine)

We were elated.

But that wasn't the last shock to my little 10 year old heart that 5 week summer camp would bring.

Meredith was, and is, a poet. Somehow she had a habit, at 11 years old, of making up poems about people's eyes.

Weird stuff. I remember a pair of green eyes being compared to a deep sea, were the bones of drunken drowned sailors floated.

Very Anne of Green Gables.

And- I remember this part with perfect clarity. She turned to me and said, do you know who has pretty eyes? Ty.

We were crossing the stage, Ty was carrying a box of props like 15 feet ahead of us.

I said "does she?"

And then, ever the romantic I screamed "HEY TY TURN AROUND I WANNA SEE SOMETHING!"

She did.

And for the first time, I looked into the dark eyes I'd been drawn to for all those years, and saw them anew.

There's a reason cupid's supposed to have arrows.

I swear to you that this is true. It felt like an actual blow to my chest. Like a physical blow.

I was stunned. My little heart was hammering out of control.

I have no idea what I said, or did, or looked like after that.

But I figured out pretty quickly what that was. It was not subtle, even to a prepubescent nearly 6th grader.

But I was a pragmatic little almost-6th-grader.

This was a crush. Middle schoolers have crushes.

And they're supposed to fade over time.

I don't remember if I was worried that my crush was on a girl. I just remember the certainty that this was just a child's crush, and therefor nothing that would last or cause problems.

And when fall came, I lost her number again.

But this time I was devastated.

But, this time a hero saved the day! Meredith, sweet, wonderful, more-organized-than-either-of-us Meredith, still had the number.

And this time, I held on to it.

We became year round besties.

For the first year of adoring her year-round, I didn't worry about my little crush. It'd go away in time.

By 7th grade, it started to be a problem.

We were having sleep overs, and I started to feel guilty about how much I wanted to look at her and cuddle her all the time.

I don't think I told anyone right away. But Meredith was always the smartest of us three.

She's the one who proposed we play "wedding". She presided over the ceremony herself, and her little sister was our wedding photographer.

Oddly, even though I didn't know about this photo till years later, this is a game both of us remember playing.

It meant... something.

Image

I started to feel guilty. We were having sleep overs, talking every day on the phone. I wanted to look at her all the time- I wanted to be with her all the time. I wanted to kiss her, and started to realize she might be bothered by that.

I never wanted to hide anything from her.

So, I confessed my love. I didn't think of this as being especially radical or brave, but in retrospect, I'm impressed by 12 year old Lee's behavior.

She smiled brightly, and said she loved me to!

As her best friend.

I clarified my position.

She repeated that she loved me as her very best friend.

And these feelings were a bit scary and BIG, so that was all good. She still wanted to hang out all the time. Life was good.

By 8th grade, I was starting to worry. The crush hadn't worn off yet. Everyone told me these things wore off.

But I was more in love with her than ever.

And when Meredith moved to Nashville, we got even closer.

We joined the MN sword club. Made new friends. In the way of these things, a whole lot of them turned out to be some evolving variety of queer. Friends started coming out.

I barely needed to, my crush was horrifyingly obvious to all our friends.

Image

I promised you swords. The swords don't feature prominently, but the club was a major connection for us for years, and this detail has always struck me.

I'm not an especially good fencer. Especially then. I was constructed out of raw spaghetti noodles and moved like creaky budget claymation most of the time. I was calculating, but slow.

She was fast, and brash, and more skilled than me. She eventually beat some nationally recognized fencers. We called her "fiery Tybalt" because we're a bunch of big ol nerds who wanted to sound smart. She eventually took her name from that nickname.

Even at only 5ft tall, she should have beaten me handily and reliably. She could hold her own against much better fencers.

But we actually got BANNED from sparring together, because we were so evenly matched we could never get enough points for a win.

My one and only expertise in fencing was knowing her. But she knew me just as well, so there was a stalemate.

Our friends laughed at us.

I confessed my love again in 8th grade.

And 9th.

10th.

11th.

I never wanted to lie to her. It was important to me that she knew what I was thinking and feeling, but it was also important that I not burden her with it.

She always gave me the same answer. She loved me. She loved me SO MUCH.

What a shame she was straight.

Now, readers, let me remind you we're looking at two queer kids in the 90s at this point.

There were pressures at play.

When I was in 11th grade, she left for college. And she was far enough away that long distance calls were expensive. I couldn't call her every day.

What I remember most about senior year was being depressed and lonely.

But also, that after years of my family despairing of my ever learning to type, and eventually getting me the (then very expensive) dragon speech-to-type program so I could type my homework and not fail school- my contact with her was suddenly all in text. AOL messenger.

People have commented at all my workplaces about my typing speed. I type 120 words per minute now.

Specifically because it was the only way to talk to her most days.

I went to college the following year. We both got boyfriends. Both nice boys who liked and admired us.

BOTH broke up with us because we so obviously preferred each other over them. To an embarrassing degree.

The boy I was dating- bless him he only lasted 3 months- specifically told me "if I go out with you any more I'm going to fall in love with you. And you're in love with her."

Slick bastard.

He was right tho.

I couldn't be mad at him.

But this is when I started to really panic.

It'd been 6 years. My first crush was still absolutely roaring. Nobody else came close to tempting me.

And nobody else wanted to, when it became obvious they couldn't compete with her.

And she was still my best friend, so of course I told her. I told her I was miserable, because I was going to be single forever because nobody else would want me, because I was so in love with her.

She felt bad. She loved me so much. So much she'd been dumped to.

Such a shame she was straight.

I wouldn't find out till much later that that conversation had started something on her side, that, for once, she knew to keep from me.

She spent the next 6 months in intense contemplation.

She DID prefer me to all the other boys (and girls) who were chasing her in college.

And there were a lot of them.

She did think I was pretty, and she did love me. And she did want to be with me forever.

She'd been as dedicated to me as I was to her through this whole time. As caring, as invested, as, frankly, obsessed. Everyone could see it.

But she wasn't straight. She was bi.

And ace.

We wouldn't learn that word for many more years. All she knew was that the story of falling in love didn't match the love she was feeling.

But then she realized- she'd never felt the feelings she was "supposed" to feel for her boyfriend, either. She was not more attracted to him than to me. And he was a good looking guy. A catch by most any standard.

And she also hadn't loved him.

But she did love me.

So, my sophomore year of college (her junior year), we were preparing our trip to the Renaissance festival. A bunch of her friends were driving into town for it, and we'd see each other again at last. (we'd been back at school like 2 weeks, so naturally were desperate to meet up)

I am still flabbergasted as the next series of events.

She asked me out. On AOL instant messenger. After over 7 years of my pining, and adoration. After 7 years of choosing the pain of being near her and not being able to kiss her, over the desolation of not having her beside me

She very logically explained her reasoning.

I had a meltdown.

My poor room mate walked into our room to find me crying and throwing things at the computer screen.

I was convinced she was offering to date me because she felt bad for me. Because she loved me and wanted me to stop hurting and feeling alone.

So I turned her down.

That, friends, was HARD. REALLY HARD.

Thankfully, she was having none of it. She insisted it only made sense for us to date. I tried to stay firm. I refused repeatedly, all in that damned AOL messenger.

We reached a compromise- one date, at the Ren Fest, as a test.

And if it failed we'd never speak of it again.

Because the prospect of dating and breaking up was terrifying to us both.

If we were going to be together, we'd be defacto engaged. Neither of us could tolerate breaking up.

The weekend came- my college friends all knew, and accompanied me, made sure I was decked out in the best fair garb we could cobble together.

She drove up with her friends- including the ex- who had no idea what was happening. She had on her finest cape & boots & a swishy dress.

We could not manage to be alone together. Like it was a proper rom-com ridiculousness. All damn day.

But at least we were together.

She came back to my dorm that night, to spend the night, and drive back the next day.

Shout out to my room mate who stayed at her boyfriend's house that night. Love you, Lindsay.

We finally managed to kiss.

She abruptly decided kissing wasn't some weird thing people only pretended to like because it was normal, and was in fact an amazing wonderful thing we should do frequently.

I don't actually remember us deciding that the experiment was successful, and we'd be a romantic couple from then on.

Pretty sure the kissing melted my brain.

It was not like kissing my old boyfriend at all.

She went back to college the next day.

I do remember, that, MORE THAN ONCE, I nervously asked my roomy if this had all really happened. I was truly and genuinely concerned that I'd dreamed or fantasized the whole thing. I'd done both enough times before.

I couldn't just ask outright so I'd say something like. "Hey did anything- important happen yesterday?"

And she'd look at me like I was speaking some alien language, and tell me I was dating Ty now.

I wandered around in a dream-like stupor for a WEEK.

This is a good place to stop for now. More tonight. I need to go snuggle my baby and help my wife with lunch. 💖

Popping in briefly for the next installment.

All our friends knew immediately. Some of them- the newer ones, were confused because they had assumed we were always dating, on account of how blatantly in love we were all the damn time.

We decided tho, to hold off on telling our families. We decided to date a year first, to show that it was serious, and that we meant it.

It was a good year, full of the kind of pining that is regularly rewarded by happy weekends and spring breaks and summers.

The next august, before we went back to school, we each sat down our own parents. Hers were sort of "yeah ok whatever." I was not there for that conversation.

I went to my favorite restaurant with my own parents, and told them I was seeing someone. Dad was enthused. Wanted to meet him.

Well. I said. You have.

Because it's Ty.

#gay love #gay romance #romance tropes #ace love #nonbinary romance #romance tropes tropes love #coming out day 2020

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acloudkat · 3 years

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Gossip Girl 2.0

So. . . I was unsure of whether I was going to talk about this or not but… in the end, here we are!

I shall be talking about the Gossip Girl Reboot.

Now quick disclaimer and mild *excuse you* to HBO, please find ways to make your content accessible to Europe because there are those of us that are interested and unfortunately your "Max" service is US only and honestly i see no reasonable logic behind it. Therefore my means of getting access to this content shall not be discussed.

Extra disclaimer, there will be spoilers. Doi.

Now I am a big die hard fan of the original GG series and despite the outdated (to today’s standards) comparisons and slang, some of the topics hold up even today. For anyone curious or questioning my opinion, based on my generation, I am mildly in the middle as a Zelenial at 23. I did not grow up with GG, I learned about it when I was 14 but watched it for the first time when I was 19. Since, I have watched it up to 14-17 times; more than 10 for sure. So you can do with that as you please. The main reason I mention this is due to some articles and comments pointing out that maybe it’s a “Gen Z only media” or that “Millennials are just bitter cause it’s not theirs”. Keeping that in mind I will be as per usual showing the ups and downs of the show (so far and later on) from my own personal perspective.

After watching ep 1. (& now 2 which will be in a separate post after this) I have a few questions, comments AND concerns. So let’s get into those shall we :)

So let's do a little round up of our characters.

We have newcomer Zoya Lott that is moving to NYC on a Constance scholarship! But little did anyone in the show know, it was all a plot to get to be with her *half sister*. WHAT?! So the tldl on that is that Zoya and our other main character, Julien Calloway, share a mom! Mom, that i quote "left Julien's dad for Zoya's dad and the dads hate each other" because of which hate, they had absolutely forbidden their daughters from communicating. One thing led to another, a friend request was sent and this is basically the parent trap. . . . but for the kids. . .and they're aware of it cause they made it. . . I suppose? The parents haven't really been mentioned to matter in their plan, however, they do keep bringing up their middle names as "Zoya Jane and Julien Elizabeth" as clues left by their mother? Now some rumours around the web have connected the names to the Pride and Prejudice novels and while that would be extremely Gossip Girl-esque to do, and I am entirely up for that, hell yea!!! I'm wondering if it's as simple as... their mother's name was Elizabeth Jane... but maybe GG will be the one to discover that secret first? Other than that, Zoya is very much a very trusting "innocent type" character that probably has more past than we know about so it will be quite interesting to see how that elaborates going further into the series.

Then there is self-made influencer Julien Calloway. She is the new version of queen at Constance but as stated, they "don't do the patriarchy anymore". While she appears all smiles and kindness, personally i feel as if JC is kind of fake? She has things she cares about yes, but the moment someone or something interferes with her followers and her social standing or Obie (more on him later)

"the gloves come off and the claws come out" - Serena Van der Woodsen

When it comes to Julien I am honestly more curious to see who she is once you take away the followers and the media. Will she be an actual person or just a shallow obsessed spoiled brat? I just hope it won't be the typical story of "have to be perfect and have to have everyone like me because my mom left" ie. has mommy issues. That is how that cliche goes after all. So I am greatly hoping that's not going to be it for this one.

Obie Bergmann! We get introduced to Obie as Julien's boyfriend. Throughout ep 1, the things we learn about Obie are that he is basically the richest in the group, and lives in Dumbo. (irony from original GG for anyone that can guess it). He appears like a super nice and kind dude, a supportive boyfriend, kind of bland and tired of the relationship but the main thing that bothers me about him so far is his impossible to ignore "white guilt syndrome". For anyone unaware, "white guilt" is "remorse or shame felt by a white person with respect to racial inequality and injustice". While it's not a bad thing trying to make up for the in-equality in the world, here's hoping that's not his entire character cus that would get old quick.

Then we have the bestie, Audrey Hope. Audrey. . . is cold but to the point. Very analysing and observing. Definitely the type of character that would take all the info first and decide what to do after. I both like and am confused by her? Her cold mannerisms are quite enjoyable among the masses of drama and emotion I won't lie. However, i do predict a juicy threesome between her, boyfriend Aki and one Max Wolfe. Honestly, I am highly interested in how their relationship evolves.

Aki Menzies is kind of a mystery as of the moment. As to be expected with just 1 episode, we won't know too much about all the characters. He is the very supportive boyfriend that tries to keep the peace between everyone.

Max Wolfe on the other hand appears like the much more flamboyant version of Chuck Bass, if Chuck Bass had a supportive family environment and no limits on who he's dating. That's more or less for him but kuddos for his 0 hesitation to basically have a pic of his dick sent to everyone. I will never not find that hilarious. But again, between these three is my prediction for some juicy interactions. Cause to be fully honest, the chemistry is undeniable.

Monet de Haan. Ah. She is honestly the savage that we need around here. She is the control and the power behind Julien's brand honestly. I am curious how come she helps Julien with her brand rather than have her own? If we go off anything said in the episode, she is more feared than adored so maybe that's why? But Monet honey, fear can also have a following, just . . a different one.

And then there's Luna La, "The stylist" while we don't know much about her, some of her one liners are actively giving me life. Her and Monet are definitely a package deal and i wonder if there is juicier gossip there that we don't know yet.

Lastly, we have our new Gossip Girl. Young teacher, Kate Keller. I won't lie, i did not see us knowing who GG is from the get go. I am however wondering whether this will drag her down to the level of highschoolers (besides the fact that she looks younger than some of them xD) Something that is bothering me in the reboot however, is that technically, characters that represent adults, spying on minors??? Like they even make the point that "i shouldn't have these, i should be in jail" in regards to having almost naked pictures of the kids. Like it's not really okay??? In the original yea no one knew who GG was but they always knew it was someone their age. The teachers didn't care at those times. But they do now and I am not fully sure how okay it is.

And of course, the extras like some of the other teachers behind GG and the parents. We however, don't know too much about them as of now so we shall see soon. If any new characters are introduced they will be addressed but for now, onto the episode!

The half sisters plot is definitely interesting so I would love to know where the whole middle names thing will go. The story line I'm most interested in at the moment however is between Audrey, Max and Aki. I want to see that unwind into something horrendous but then beautiful! It has so much potential in my opinion. In terms of character development however i want to see who Julien is without all of her fame and followers. When the focus is not the media and the attention. I want to see that Julien.

The first episode definitely introduced us to a lot of things at once so far that is my take on them. I'm sure that in the future both the teachers and parents will be a bigger part but one thing is abundantly clear. Unlike the OGGG, there won't be more than maybe 2-3 seasons depending on the ages of the students. The teachers won't follow them onto college will they? Or will things drastically change along the way? It was rather amusing seeing them talk about all the old characters however, and reference the OG Gossip Girl. I am vaguely offended that they categorised twitter as "a glorified chatroom for memes for people over 30". Like dude. . . that hit me hard. I am happy that FB was never even mentioned as existing tho! Cause let's be honest that is not the "hip" thing anymore. But the rules they put down at the party definitely made my head spin. Had to listen to them twice to even get what was happening.

But that's probably enough of me babbling on about this xD If you want to find this on an apparently dying type of media, here's my blog post about it as well lol: https://acloudkat.wordpress.com/?p=960

#gossip girl reboot #gossip girl #reboot #series things

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sapereaude-habemut · 4 years

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It is confusing.

You were born only two years and four months after I was. I do not remember life without you. Our brother was born only fifteen months after that. I barely remember life without him either.

I had very little time to have “girl” toys. By the time I was four I was sharing a room in a tiny house with my two little brothers. The “girliest” toys I had were horse figurines--but before you two started getting superhero action figures and little green army men, you had animal toys too, so what’s the difference? Even when I got Barbies and dolls, they would play in the same world as your amy men, they would also fight and explore, because I always played with you two. Most of our time was spent outside though. Our house was so tiny, our backyard so big. We rode bikes, we dug in the mud, we built little houses out of sticks and rocks. We played our imaginary game, where we were knights on a quest, explorers of a new world, we fought with sticks, we got dirty, scraped our knees. My upbringing was far more stereotypically “boyish” than “girlish.” Except for, well, everything aside from that.

I watched you and our other brother pee on trees in the backyard, our parents would laugh as you freely, laughingly had contests to see whose pee stream could reach higher. It was “cute” it was “funny.” It was something men did. Meanwhile, for me, using the bathroom was secretive, it was hidden. It was something never talked about. Vagina was a word uttered only in whispers.

I grew up watching you and our brother run around without shirts on, in our backyard, in our house on snowdays when we came inside to hot chocolate so you would not stain your shirts. At the beach, the pool, family and neighborhood barbecues--freely, without a second thought. Everyone accepted it. Meanwhile, I had been taught that it was inappropriate for a girl to not wear her shirt around other people at such a young age that I do not have a memory of thinking it was okay. At such a young age I could not yet understand WHY it was not okay. For my entire living memory, I have just known my torso was something that had to be hidden, to be ashamed of.

Long before I had anything on my body that could make not wearing a shirt, or certain clothes “inappropriate,” I was chastised if I tried to leave the house in a shirt or pants too tight, a skirt or shorts too short, the neckline too low--anything really. My body, for my whole life, has always been something I just knew had to be hidden. While you and our brother ran around freely, peeing on trees, without shirts on, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I changed diapers. So many diapers. When our brother was born and I was only four, I was taught to change his diapers. I changed so many of our sisters’ diapers. You changed none. I was always the mother's helper, I was expected to be. I changed the diapers, I babysat for the first time at eleven years old, over you, our other brother, and both our sisters, one of whom was a new born. I was the eldest sister, I was a woman, I was mother’s helper. It was expected. I continued to babysit until I left for college, despite the fact that you and our brother were far older than I was when I first began watching all of you. I would cancel plans and miss out when I was seventeen in highschool to “babysit”--while you, fifteen years old, got to sit around, play video games, watch television, read. When our mother was sad, tired, overwhelmed, busy--I cooked dinner, I set the table, I cleaned up dinner and loaded the dishwasher. I bathed our sisters, and sang them to sleep. You and our brother were never asked to do anything. You were never expected to do anything. It was all woman’s work.

On the holidays, I was always sent to the kitchen to “help the other women”--to help our mother, grandmother, and aunts, cook, bring out dishes, set the tables, and clean up. As the men in the family at around the table, or on couches, laughing and talking, and you and our brother played, or when you got older, joined in on the laughing and talking. I served you. I cleaned up after you. Because I am a woman.

I grew up watching you and our brother be “gross”, get dirty, play rough. Sit however you wanted. But when I joined in, when I got dirty, when I shoved one of you too hard, when I sat, somehow, incorrectly, I was scolded and told it was not “lady-like.”

My whole high school career our relatives unceasingly asked me when I would bring a boyfriend home. Despite the fact that I was a three season varsity athlete, the captain of the track team my junior and senior years, despite the fact that I was top of my class, despite the fact that I took every AP exam I could, passed nearly all of them with perfect 5′s, was going to college on a scholarship with nearly a full semester of college credits. You and our other brother got commended for being smart, but if you acted up, it was brushed off with my grandpa, our uncles saying “ah well, you take after me--boys will be boys.” You were never asked about bringing a girl home. But if you brought it up, you got a pat on the shoulder and an “atta boy.”

My whole upbringing was being forced to grow up too quickly to help cook for everyone, help clean up after everyone, do everyone’s laundry, take care of all of you. While you got to play. My whole upbringing was being taught to hide my body, that it was somehow inappropriate, shameful. While you got to run about freely, your bodies unencumbered by shame.

When I was fifteen, a grown man told me I had “child-bearing hips.” Horrified, I told my mother, and she just said sadly, but shruggingly, “You get that from my side.” When I was sixteen, playing volleyball, a senior from another school said he would like to “pipe” me. I have been grabbed, jeered at, sexually assaulted. At a family barbecue the summer after my freshman year of college, an older male relative who had not seen me since I was a child said “damn she’s an Amazon” as I tried to toss around the football with you and our other brother. I was uncomfortable. I have always had to deal with being uncomfortable. You never felt as though you did not have ownership over your body, as though your own body endangered you. As though your flesh somehow made you more vulnerable, but also more shameful, weaker, but giving me these great burdens of “womanhood.”

And it was not even like, as our mother tries to argue, that maybe this is why you were so adverse to sports, why it was so burdensome to have expectations of athleticism on you. I was more athletic than both you and our brother, I played more sports than both of you, I was better at more sports than both of you, I enjoyed sports more than both of you. One of our sisters is also far more athletic than both of you.

It also was not, as our mother also tries to say, our father’s hyper-traditional ideals of masculinity and feminity that drove you to this, or made you hide it. Because I was not always feminine. I worked mucking stalls, doing manual labor all summer. I more often than not wore athletic clothes, rarely wore makeup. Both me and our sister went through long “tomboy” stages, where we wore clothes from the boy’s department. Where we cut our hair short. We were permitted to do that. Our brother, our athletic, funny, “ladies’ man” of a brother, loves fashion. He loves to style outfits, to wear brightly colored or pastel floral button down shirts, pair them with patterned ties, he loves well fitted pants, fancy shoes, likes to make sure his socks go with his outfit, but also “pop” so when he sits and his pants reveal them, they are stylish too. He likes to wear his hair longer so he can style it. He was permitted to do that. He wears pink ties, he wears cologne, he cares about his skin. Our father and grandfather may joke, but in a good-natured way saying “well he’s never had trouble with the ladies, so maybe *we’re* doing something wrong.” It was not that.

So what was it? When you tell me you could not imagine not transitioning, not being a woman? What do you mean? What is this woman you speak of?

The first time I saw you after you announced you were transitioning, you were wearing a black choker, and off the shoulder top revealing a pink strappy sports bra, your nails were painted black. Is that what you think it means to “feel” more like a woman? Painted nails, trashy jewelry, and cutesy flashes of undergarments? Is it breasts? What is it?

This is not the womanness I was burdened with.

You received every single privilege of being a male in a very traditional, Catholic, Italian family. You never tried to take on any of the burdens I was forced to bear because it was my “role as a woman.” You took advantage of all of it. Your entire life.

#radfem #gender critical #gendercrit #feminism

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a-lockman5 · 4 years

Note

so hot popular jocks are not my thing, & i am a sucker for the enemies to lovers trope, & it’d have been cool to have THE couple be two nerds (it’d be better if they were both POC coz the brown girl/white boy thing is overdone on TV) that i should be Team Ben, but Benvi was so repulsive at first, that i found it really hard to root for him after, when they tried to redeem him. i am totally Team Paxton now, he also has his careless moments but he was never mean/disrespectful to her!

Yes! I agree with you that I too have a soft spot for the enemies to lovers trope. Like I read so many fics with with “enemies” to lovers, but also those fics just include bickering? Like Devi and Ben both say some horrendous things to each other (racism, anti-semetism, body shaming, etc.) and Devi’s temper has even resulted in an amount of physical violence (shattering the beaker). I don’t think Ben is unredeemable, and I think they both start putting their differences behind them, and I would love to still see a competitive, respectful friendship come out them. Right now, I think fans are excusing Ben’s behavior because he is a sad lonely boy, but why is that an excuse??? I don’t understand. I felt bad that his parents suck too, but it’s not their fault that he’s dating a girl he doesn’t really like (apparently), refers to people he spends regular time with (model UN) as losers, and generally spends his time making other people feel intellectually/socially inferior with intention to hurt them. I just don’t understand how to feel sorry for that.

Further, I don’t think Paxton was careless or a “fuckboy” (I feel gross even typing it) like other people are saying. I think it’s unfair for us to hold Paxton to this unrealistic standard that he should just be okay with Devi using him first for sex and then popularity. He shouldn’t be okay with her mom calling him an idiot and accusing him of ruining Devi’s future when he has talked Devi through some of the issues she’s having more than anyone else this season. He’s still a person! I truly feel like he is a “hot popular jock” that is so accustomed to being used and objectified that it’s difficult for him to open up to people too. Like this boy speaks in Japanese with his Grandpa, has a Japanese father, and his best friend didn’t know he was half Japanese? Really? His best friend’s mom is thirsty af and must make him horribly uncomfortable. He’s still the guy that sat next to his sister’s bed after she was adopted with a nerf gun to protect her. He’s the guy that saved his sister’s photo shoot for fashion school. He is consistently there for Devi when she needs him (coyote, pool accident, etc.), and this boy shows up. He comes to Devi’s house four times during this season - to apologize, to drop her off before her mom gets home, to return her clothes (and probably ask her out, my poor, soft boy), and then again to apologize and make amends. How many high school hot jocks do you know that did that? It’s a big fat zero for me (and I was a big ol nerd like Devi too). I just have so many feelings for this boy.

I am so curious to see if Paxton gets his own narrated episode in S2. I think right now, he reminds me a lot of a friend I had in college. And it was honestly so hard to be this guy’s friend because he was really used to people not sticking around for him. Where girls were concerned, he was used to them wanting a cute boyfriend and not really getting to know him or not liking him when they did because he did have some baggage. He is the sweetest person, living in Arizona (I am in Indiana), and if I told him that I needed him, he would be here. But once we were in a fight and not speaking (that was his go to when he was upset because he was bad at talking things out) and a mutual friend told me, “you know he’s a shitty person,” and that gutted me. I am so protective of him because he is the best person. I think that’s part of why I love Paxton so much too. He’s just so much deeper than we get to see.

And man, sorry for the book, but thank you for your ask! I love talking about these characters!

#never have i ever #paxton hall yoshida must be protected #paxton h y #paxton hall yoshida #nhie

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winterromanov · 5 years

Note

College Bucky taking her home to meet the fam!!

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic and this fic)

You’d never met Bucky’s parents and sister in the flesh before, but you might as well have done by this point. Ever since Bucky had told them he’d been dating someone they’d been dying to meet you--to the point where Bucky can’t Facetime home without his mother demanding to pull you into the frame and Becca Barnes regularly messages you on Facebook.

So when Bucky finally invites you over to his family home for the weekend, you’re really not as nervous as you’d expect to be. Sure, there’s a vague sense of anxiety that stirs your stomach at the thought of how concrete and real this all is because, well. You’ve never had a proper boyfriend before. But Bucky’s mom has his smile and his dad has his eyes and Becca seems to be the best bits of all of them, so why shouldn’t this be anything but good?

“My mom is asking me if you like Mexican food,” Bucky says, phone in his right hand, sat cross legged on your bed. He’s supposed to be helping you pack. The most help he’s been was throwing one of his socks he’d found down the side of the bed right at your face. “I said yeah. We ate enchiladas once, right?”

“I’d use the term we loosely. I made the enchiladas and you ate them after you’d had practice.” You raise an eyebrow as he sheepishly looks up from his phone screen. “I don’t remember actually eating anything that night.”

“Well.” Bucky shrugs, smirking and deliberately looking away from you. “I had a great meal that night. Not just talking about the enchiladas, either.”

Okay, so now it’s your turn to throw a dirty sock at his features. You watch as he makes a show of spluttering and acting disgusted like you’ve just thrown a tonne of raw sewage all fucking over him. “You’re the worst.”

“I know you are,” he says, teasing, scrambling over to wrap the sock round your neck like a scarf. You squeal, giggling as you try and push him away--because his football socks are gross, come on--but he only laughs louder as you struggle, pulling you closer and closer. “But what am I?”

His face is just so damn kissable even when he’s being annoying beyond belief. You have clothes to pack away, dinner to assemble (well, he’s the one that’s supposed to be making the dinner) and Netflix to watch but you let your giggles subside, curl your fingers round his jaw, let your lips collide.

“You’re still the worst,” you murmur against him. “But I seem to find that endearing, somehow.”

“Touche, sweetheart. Touche.”

It’s not exactly difficult to get to Bucky’s childhood home from university. He’s lived in Brooklyn his whole life so it’s just a matter of traveling there from Upper Manhattan on public transport. You have a feeling he’d not invited you sooner because he’d worried about whether you were ready--if things were going too fast, if you’d get intimidated standing in the front hall of the house he’d grown up in. But when he’d shyly suggested it walking through Central Park on the day of your fourth month anniversary, you’d squeezed his hand and let him know that yeah, you’re kind of okay with meeting the family he fucking adores.

The house itself lies in a fairly innocuous and relatively expensive looking neighbourhood, with tan brickwork and big windows and a bright red front door. A couple of cars sit in the driveway and flowers burst through borders trailing from the front yard into the back. You’d barely wheeled your suitcase up to the steps when the door flies open, two extremely excitable women rushing down to meet you.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” The older one--Bucky’s mom--gushes immediately, grabbing you into a hug before stepping back to take a proper look at you. “Oh, honey. You look just like all the pictures James has sent me. Becca, isn’t she just beautiful?”

“So beautiful!” Becca confirms, blue eyes glittering. She looks so much like Bucky it’s unreal. “Where did you get your boots from? I’ve been wanting a pair--”

“Hey!” Bucky jokingly breaks in between the three of you, running a hand across your waist. “Stop hassling my girl! I am here too, you know. You could show a little enthusiasm.”

Bucky’s mom slaps him on the arm in teasing and the two women fall under his arms, clutching his waist. His eyes close as he hugs them, squeezing them as tight as possible. Despite the closeness in distance it’s been a few weeks since they all last saw each other, and you can see it in the way he holds them. He’s home.

“Miss me, then?” Bucky says, tongue poking out between his teeth. Becca responds by burrowing closer into his side, while his mom reaches out to clutch your hand.

“Of course we missed you. We miss you every day.” His mom looks at you with a gaze of gratification and what...what might be relief, so you smile and squeeze her hand back. “I am just glad that this one has clearly been looking after you.”

“He looks after me, too, Mrs Barnes.” Bucky’s expression is warm, loving, face slightly tilted to the side as he falls in love with you just a little more.

“Please, call me Winifred.” She assures, before gesturing towards the open door. “Come on in. It’s freezing, and your dad can’t wait to embarrass you.”

Winifred lets go of your palm and trots up the stairs, Becca bounding excitedly behind her. Bucky rolls his eyes, picking up your suitcase, but it’s all done in jest.

“They’re going to be like this all weekend, just so you know.” Bucky informs you, ushering you up the steps in front of him. “If it gets a bit much, just say. They’ll get it.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m more interested in all these photos you’ve been sending your mom of me.”

Bucky groans and you laugh, not so secretly pleased by it all. His heart is so full to bursting for you that he sends his mom photographs. It’s, as Sam would surely put it, absolutely sickening.

Bucky’s dad is just as intrigued about you as his mom and sister are, but in a calmer, drier way shown through his bemused expressions and quietly funny comments round the dinner table. Where Winifred and Becca are thrumming with energy, he peacefully sits through the storm--exchanging measured conversation with his son and watching as you deal with Winifred and Becca’s near incessant questioning.

“(Y/N),” he says, quite suddenly, passing you a bowl of salad. “James says you’re the reason he passed Russian Literature last semester.”

You flush a little, not quite meeting his gaze as you pile lettuce onto your plate. “I wouldn’t go that far, Mr Barnes. Buck--I mean, James, is probably one of the smartest people I know.”

Becca snorts with laughter before masking it with a cough, and Bucky kicks her leg under the table, his mouth crammed full of enchilada. It’s funny, watching him interact with his younger sister. It’s like you’re getting a glimpse into the childhood they shared and you were never part of. The scuffed knees and pretend games and play fights that got out of hand.

“He works hard, and that’s all I ever ask of my children.” Bucky’s dad smiles warmly and proudly, eyes crinkling. There’s the blue, where it came from. Bucky’s dad has the same bright blue eyes, like the rough sea on the English coastline. Bucky’s cheeks burn pink and his hand finds your knee under the table, his fingers flexing over the fabric of his jeans. “And if he finds someone who works as hard as he does, well... I’m going to be a happy man.”

Bucky winks at you. “Good thing (Y/N) is the smartest gal I know, then.”

Winifred chooses that moment to bring out a pecan pie she’d made from scratch because Bucky said you’d like them and for half a moment you think you might burst into tears, because four months into loving their son and they’ve accepted you like you’re their own. There is no subtle (or unsubtle) judgement, no tripping up, no how can you possibly be good enough for our boy.

He loves you, so they love you. It’s as simple as that.

Bucky’s childhood room only has a twin bed so you both curl into it like a tin of sardines, limbs entangled and breaths confused, cold feet pressed together under a red striped duvet. There are still teddy bears on top of wardrobes and piles of superhero figurines stacked in boxes, comic books and Star Wars memorabilia and posters of his favourite football stars. Photographs line his wall of him and Steve and Becca and old high school football teams, pinned up with flaking sellotape.

“I don’t think I have enough wall space,” he says, on the edge of sleep, face burrowed into your neck. You don’t turn but trail your hand up his arm until it meets the back of his head, fingers twisting round the hair that grows there.

“Enough wall space for what?”

“For you,” he hums gently, “You’d fill every centimeter of it like you fill every cell of my body.”

He falls asleep, like he often does after delirious muted declarations of love, but that’s okay. You don’t have to fill his wall. You’re happy existing merely in the thrumming, heady organ within his ribcage. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and everything he’s always given.

In the morning Bucky shows you the sights of his home borough, Becca insisting on tagging along for the ride. You look over Brooklyn Bridge and eat hipster pizza and giggle amongst a crowd of serious tourists in Brooklyn Museum. Becca eventually meets a friend and disappears off into the city, so Bucky takes you to Prospect Park, beautiful and gloomy in the harsh January frost. It’s not long before you encounter the pop-up ice rink that appears for the winter season and, really, it would be a shame to skip the opportunity. It’s not half as busy as the rink at Rockefeller Center.

Weirdly, Bucky’s more erratic on the ice than you are. His long limbs stutter and stumble as he tries to regain his balance and you laugh, grabbing onto his gloved hands.

“This sure is a bonding experience,” Bucky’s voice wobbles as he almost takes out a small child with his right leg, “You trying to hold the weight of a six-foot tall football player while also on ice.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” you reply. You pull him violently so he, again, doesn’t knock a group of little schoolchildren like bowling pins. It gives him such a fright that both of you end up tumbling to the ground, frantically reaching out for each other’s hands to gain any semblance of balance.

It doesn’t work. You just end up lying on his chest, on view of the whole of fucking Brooklyn, and he has the nerve to fucking kiss you.

“What?” Bucky shrugs, not looking the least bit ashamed. “Wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.”

“It’s a good job you’re so cute.” You half-smile, trying to roll off him and onto the ice so you’re not holding up the rest of the skaters. He struggles to his feet, palms scraped but otherwise unhurt--but the pout on his lips says hot chocolate over another turn round the rink, and you’re not in a position to refuse.

On your last evening before reality resumes once again you and Bucky cook dinner. Well. You watch intently as Bucky throws the ingredients for a chilli in a pan, making sure he doesn’t accidentally do anything wacky (which he does an awful lot). He chases you round the kitchen with fresh chili on his fingers but Becca eventually teams up with you, whacking him with a spatula into submission. His laugh is so carefree it’s magical. You wish you could keep it forever, keep it like this.

(Your stomach swoops dramatically at the thoughts of what the future could hold if this--if this were to last forever.)

The food goes down well. Winifred gazes at you dreamily before gathering up the plates with Becca and Bucky, leaving you and his dad at the dinner table.

“I’ve...been worried about him,” Bucky’s dad admits in the quiet, the only noise faint giggling coming from the kitchen. “About James. About college. Because there have been times when he’s come home and there looks like there’s nothing left inside of him. But I look at him now, and...he’s not just living. He’s thriving. And I think that, at least in part, is because of you.”

You blink back at him, not sure what to say. There are not sufficient words in the English language to reply to that, the tenderness and gratefulness Mr Barnes shows in his expressive eyes and kind mouth. It clicks why Winifred looked at you with relief when you’d first met. They’d been so worried about him.

“You make him so happy, kid.” Bucky’s dad’s smile is crooked, just like Bucky’s own. “I’m just glad you found each other.”

You can only smile back. But sometimes expressions say all the words you need to, so. Bucky’s dad gets it.

You hold him a little tighter in the twin bed that night. Face to face rather than back to back. Watching Bucky Barnes breathe is a privilege, but loving him is a responsibility. He will never be empty or lonely while you can feel his skin beneath your fingertips. He will never be anything but him.

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#obscene fluff #actually disgusting #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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essaysfromthedeep · 4 years

Text

Wash, rinse, repeat.

A little bit about being Southern, gay, and estranged.

CW: Suicide mention

Where I am now is exactly why I didn’t want to come out in the first place. I was terrified as a teenager that I would have to leave my family behind to be happy. It turned out to be true.

I figured out when I was 17 that I was attracted to girls. I had a boyfriend. It wasn’t going well. It wasn’t his fault, of course. I tried and tried to be okay with dating him, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt three months in that I didn’t feel the same way about him. I just didn’t know why for another few months. Or I didn’t want to admit why. I’m not sure the distinction matters at this point.

I remember which class I was sitting in the first time I wrote down “I think I like girls.” It was almost lunch time, I had no friends in there and no one was paying any attention to me. I put it in a journal I later burned. It was terrifying and imprinted itself on my memory. It was also a truth I couldn’t outrun any more.

I wasn’t expecting that coming out would be so similar to the stages of grief. I remember being so angry. I tried to kill myself. An expression of anger, fear, and disappointment.

I tried to kill myself on Valentine’s day because my boyfriend so desperately wanted to spend time with me, but I couldn’t stand the thought of it. I knew exactly where I’d rather be and why. I couldn’t take it any more.

I took, what I thought to be at the time, a lot of pills, and drank, what I thought to be at the time, a lot of alcohol. And laid down to go to sleep. I started feeling very ill and couldn’t fall asleep. I remember praying. “Okay God, if I survive this, it means you want me to be gay. And if I don’t well, I guess I’ll find out if you’re going to send me to hell for it.”

I threw up all night. The next day I felt like death warmed over, but I was alive. Now came the hard part, figuring out how to be gay. It took me 6 more years to come out in any kind of public way. I told my closest friends in high school, but that didn’t go so well. I came out as bisexual. Which, I am not. But I couldn’t be a full on lesbian yet.I wasn’t ready to give up.

I was still desperately hoping some boy would come along and fix me. Someone, anyone! That they would love me enough somehow and, even though I would never feel the same way about them, that it would be enough. It didn’t work out.

My first few years of being out to myself were full of this kind of bargaining. “I’ll just be alone forever and that will be fine. I don’t need a relationship.” I had resolved to stay in the small, rural town I had grown up in and just be the person my family wanted me to be. But the idea of being forced to be alone became unbearable. I had finally let go of some of my self hatred and honestly I wanted so badly to hit on women. Being a lesbian sounded amazing, if I could just figure out how to do it!

In college it still took awhile for me to come out, again.

I was technically bisexual at that point, so the assumption was this was a phase. I was so tired of the implication that I’d just eventually like a dude! I knew I wouldn’t. I kept pretending. Latching on to dudes left and right because I assumed (rightly) that there was more to lose when I let everyone know there would be no more men for me.

I tried to date exactly one guy in college. Attempting to be the person he wanted me to be was like cutting off parts of myself. I kept trying to make myself into something that I wasn’t to make men happy, when I was already pretty sure that I wasn’t at all interested in men or making them happy. I ‘broke up’ with him after four days.

I wish I could say that was the end of my misadventures with men, but it wasn’t. It was the last time I tried to date one. Everything else was just drunken mistakes in an attempt to try to make myself into a straight girl.

I finally gave it all up when I was 23. I had been fighting and fighting and fighting for years. I slept with one woman and it’s honestly laughable to me at this point that I ever thought I was straight.

That’s the only reason I decided to come out to my family at all.

After stumbling upon the (finally sober) realization, that I was decidedly uninterested in men, I realized that I would need to tell my family.

I didn’t want to, but I’m a terrible liar. And honestly, I was so tired of being afraid of them. To be clear though, when I came out I was still terrified of them. My timing could have probably been better, but that’s not how life is.

I decided to come out the weekend I graduated from college. I was sure, certain, in fact, that it would be alright. We would be riding the high from my accomplishment (2 degrees!) and they would love me regardless. I would tell them and then we would have a nice Christmas.

I have not been to a Christmas with my family since then.

I graduated right about the same time as all that Duck Dynasty nonsense where that guy said really homophobic stuff in GQ back in 2013. Well, my sister spent the entire weekend talking about it. Agreeing with him. Being angry because the show got dropped. “Gay people need to learn their place.” I could still direct you to the booth we were sitting at in Steak’n’Shake when she said that. There are some things that just stick with you. All gay people were going to hell anyway, why should it matter that he said it! And how dare A&E cancel them!

I left after that. Saying I was tired and didn’t want to go back to the mall. I had some friends to hang out with. Whatever excuses I could come up with. Really I went to my apartment and talked with my girlfriend for hours and hours about what I should do. I didn’t feel safe going home with them at that point. My family isn’t known for solving these kind of disagreements peacefully. And my family disagreed with my existence. What’s a girl to do? I ran away with my girlfriend for Christmas.

And this is where the Southern part of my story starts rearing its ugly head. My girlfriends parents were not sure about hosting me. I should be at home with my family. I didn’t know how to tell them, I didn’t feel safe with my family.

There’s this stigma about not being in touch with your family. Like it’s some kind of easy choice to cut them off. I already knew what my family thought of me, why am I required to open myself up to further abuse? Why am I required to submit myself to them for in-person derangement.

After the fact, when we were discussing it my mother said to me “Were you scared I was going to shoot you?” And yes. I was. That’s the thing. I know how my mother reacts. I react in similar fashions sometimes. A blind rage. You can’t see anything but your anger. I felt I was taking my life in my hands if I went home and came out. And who would know if they killed me and buried me in the back yard? Who would care? There are lots of pig farms in Arkansas. There are lots of places to hide a body.

Perhaps this is horrifying for me to say, but it was a natural conclusion for me. There are many people where I’m from who would have understood why my family did it. A jury of their peers wouldn’t convict them.

After that we tried for a few years, but the problem is I wanted it all.

I can read my parents like a book. They were so uncomfortable in my presence.

Growing up my father only referred to gay men as faggots. I had only ever heard gay used as a slur until I was in high school at least. It definitely wasn’t truly de-stigmatized for me until I was in college.

And about three years after I came out to my parents, I was tired of being tolerated. I didn’t want them to think I was disgusting. I wanted them to be able to look at me. I wanted them to be able to say the word gay and it not be a slur. And so I confronted them about it.

And my mom told me that she can only accept my relationships that are ‘biblical.’ She will never accept my marriage. And so I decided that I wasn’t going to live my life in pieces, and I told her to contact me when she could accept me for everything that I am, and that includes being a lesbian.

And now I don’t know what to do.

My family always made it very clear that if you didn’t talk to them in life, you shouldn’t show up at their funerals. I don’t know whether to grieve now, later, or both. I assume both makes the most sense.

This is excruciating, but it’s still better than sitting across the table from my mother and seeing the disgust in her eyes. The fear. Knowing that she thinks there’s something wrong with me.

My mother’s love is conditional. She loves in the hope that it will make me change. That I will repent and be born again, again. That it can save me. That she can make me straight.

After being the ‘sinner’ that’s been ‘loved’ for so many years, I have to say it feels less like love and more like coercion.

I feel like I’ve chosen the lesser of two evils. Trying to maintain contact with my family is destabilizing. So I’ll live with the guilt and the shame of not talking to the people who conceived me. I’m not sure what I continue to owe them though.

My mother left me a voicemail last week. She claims she doesn’t know what she’s done to “upset me.” She thinks I’m just punishing her because I’m mad. I’m not mad. I’m painfully aware of how little there is left of me for her to love. I won’t change. Why do I have to expose myself to her obvious disdain? What obligations do I owe her?

She brought me into this world, but the truth is she doesn’t want me. She wants whatever version she keeps of me in her head.

It’s much harder to love people as they are. And what I am now is so far removed from what she wants, I just don’t see why I have to keep trying. She isn’t going to meet me halfway, and I have to give up everything I am.

There’s no voice I can turn my mother to that teachers her to love me. The people my mother respects hate me. They teach I’m the reason why Jesus will soon return and wipe people like me from the face of the Earth and put us in hell where we belong.

I’ve heard “Blood is thicker than water” so often that I can’t help but feel like the asshole in this situation. Oh, what I’m doing to my poor mother! Have we considered what she’s done to me?

I’ve always been aware of how tenuous my relationship with my parents was. I knew there were parts of me they could never love. I’ve been keeping secrets since I was a child, hoping that I could be good enough one day that they’d like every piece of me. I’d settle for like, I think.

I grieve for my childhood. I wonder, often, what it’s like for kids who’s parents love them unconditionally. It’s difficult knowing that is something I will never experience.

I can’t blame my mother for it. I don’t think it was something she was ever capable of. It’s about as useful as being mad at the rain. There’s nothing I can do to change it.

I always want these kinds of things to have a lesson. I would like to wrap it up nice and tidy, but this is all messy ends and unfinished work.

The anger has run out of me and all that was left to do was this. Hollow myself out so the pain and sadness can’t grow and fester until they try to kill me again. You face them, you name them, you find a way to get up the next morning. You do things that make you happy. You wait for them to make you happy again. Wash, rinse, repeat.

#lgbtq #southern culture #suicide mention cw #cw suicide mention #writing #mine #wlw #lesbian #gay

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