I Think I Read A Fanfiction Like This Once

, , , , | Romantic | March 8, 2021

I’m an out-and-proud lesbian. I left the closet at age six and never looked back.

My best friend and I have been BFFs since we were toddlers, and my parents basically raised him and me as siblings — to the point that I call him “Bro” and he calls me “Sis.” I always introduce him as my big brother and he tells his friends I’m his little sister. It helps that he has a passing resemblance to my mom and me.

Singapore has this really dumb law that property can only be owned by people above thirty-five unless they are married. My best friend desperately wants to leave his toxic family and never return, so he needs to get hitched as soon as possible.

[Best Friend] found himself a girlfriend in similar straits, and they agreed to marry after he finished his mandatory military service and saved up enough to afford a flat. My mom also agreed to give him a loan and conveniently forgot to mention any interest or fixed repayment date.

Alas, his girlfriend found herself a better deal with someone else and summarily dumped him about a third of the way through his service, leaving him with a broken heart and even more desperate than before.

He had a backup plan, of course, but it was fairly unpalatable, as it involved renting an apartment with three other guys, and the only people he could find to agree with that were either horrendously immature or slobs.

My BFF is lamenting this conundrum while having dinner at my place, when I decide to “propose” to him right then and there, with the idea that we’ll divorce after he gets a flat. It takes a bit of convincing, but beggars can’t be choosers. My parents have to sweeten the deal by promising a really generous dowry, but he eventually says yes.

We begin preparing to get married. We tell all our friends about it, which is where things get silly.

EVERY SINGLE ONE of them reacts with shock and disgust. “Oh, my God, but he/she is your brother/sister! Isn’t that incest?!” Even some younger members of my family react that way.

It turns out we’ve thought of each other as siblings for so long that we’ve never told any of our friends that we aren’t actually blood-related. And my younger family members — including my actual younger brother — genuinely never realised he wasn’t actually my brother as, since as far back as they could remember, we always told them [Best Friend] was my brother.

After a whole motherload of explanations, the two of us are sitting on my bed and looking dumbstruck at each other.

Me: “I never realised just how many people we told that we were siblings.”

Best Friend: “Yeah, that was awkward. In all fairness, Sis, you’re literally one of the last people I saw myself marrying, so we never saw that as an issue.”

Me: “Huh. For me, you were literally the only guy I even remotely considered marrying. But I see your point, Bro. Never thought we actually would get hitched. You being my sperm donor was obvious, but actually marrying? Nope.”

Best Friend: “I know. It’s one thing to help you have kids. But to actually marry you?”

He shakes his head and lets out a long sigh.

Best Friend:  “Anyway, thanks again, Sis. I owe you big time.”

Me: “Eh, what are best-friends-slash-siblings for? Don’t mention it.”

We hug.

Best Friend:  “Love you, Sis.”

Me: “Love you, too, Bro.”

We stay like that for a while before we let go.

Best Friend: “But after we get married, we absolutely have to introduce ourselves as best friends or a couple. Calling ourselves siblings just causes way too much drama.”

Me: “Crap. That’s not gonna be easy. I’m so used to calling you my brother.”

Best Friend: “It’s not easy for me, either. I literally cannot see you as anything other than my little sister.”

Me: “Same. God, this is so awkward.”

Best Friend: “No kidding. Ah, well, just have to knuckle down and do it.”

I groan.

Despite everything, we get married a year later. We have a beautiful ceremony, swear our vows, and kiss. And every single person that attends says that it feels weird.

Me: “I always wanted to be a bride. I’m one now, but this doesn’t feel real.”

Best Friend: “If someone had told me that I’d be marrying you, I’d have laughed in their faces. I can’t believe we actually are doing it.”

Dad: “I seriously can’t see [Best Friend] as anything other than your brother.”

Mom: “It feels like two of my kids got married at the same time.”

Aunt: “This is so weird. The two of you look like cosplaying siblings.”

Cousin: “Someone please get me some brain bleach. The two of you kissing just looks beyond wrong to me.”

Uncle: “I cannot take this seriously. The two of you look nothing like a couple.”

Homophobic Grandma: “I’m happy you married a man, as is only proper, but even this feels wrong to me.”

Younger Brother: “I feel so much like Tyrion Lannister right now.”

Me: “Noted. I’ll name our son Joffrey, then.”

[Younger Brother] gives me the most horrified look.

Younger Brother: “I was joking!”

Lannister jokes aside, our marriage was perfect. It’s been a couple of years now, and my best friend now has his own flat and is far away from his toxic family. Meanwhile, the ex that dumped him underwent a really messy divorce and lost the flat, stranding her back at square one with nothing to show for it.

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It’s All “Ohana”

, , , , | Related | March 5, 2021

As an “honorary” uncle, I am playing with my two-year-old niece one day when she decides to bring all her horse dolls out to play with. Two of them are about the same size while the third is noticeably smaller.

Me: “They could be a mommy and daddy horse and their baby horse.”

Practically the moment I say that, I realize I don’t want to imply that this is the only “right” sort of family unit, especially since my niece was conceived via sperm donor and so doesn’t have a father. Thus, I quickly decide I need to add some other suggestions.

Me: “Or maybe it’s a mommy horse, another mommy, and their baby?”

Niece: “You can’t have two mommies.”

Niece’s Mother: “Sure, you can! What about [Friend]? She has two mommies, doesn’t she?”

Niece: “Oh.”

Niece’s Mother: “Or maybe it’s a mommy horse, a grandma horse, and a baby horse.”

Until recently, [Niece] and her mother lived with her grandmother while their house was being renovated, so a mommy horse and grandma horse better describe their “family unit.”

Me: “Or maybe it’s a mommy horse and an uncle horse who came to play with his favorite niece horse!”

Our play quickly moved on to other things, but I’m glad I was able to catch my mistake in time to fix my original suggestion, and particularly thankful that my niece’s mother picked up on what I was trying to do and backed me up so quickly.

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Way To Keep Your Cool, Daddy-O

, , , , | Related | March 4, 2021

I’m a known sperm donor. I’ve donated sperm for a few individuals who needed help. I make it clear that, while I’m always happy to help, I always prefer if I can meet the children I donated for, and luckily, a few parents have allowed me that opportunity. In particular, the parents of two kids have made me an “honorary uncle” for their kids. I often visit and play with them, and these two kids in particular have also become close friends and playmates with each other.

My “nephew” is around three and my “niece” is closer to four. The niece’s mother has been very open about explaining how I donated sperm for her. Meanwhile, my nephew’s parents haven’t chosen to explain my donation for him.  

There is an annual fair that I always attend with my niece happening this day, and we invite my nephew, as well. His parents are both busy with moving to a new home on that day, so we offered to take him with us to the fair as a way to keep him out of their hands while moving.

Nephew: “Daddy, can we… Oh.”

Me: “I’m not your daddy!”

This was clearly just a slip-up on my nephew’s part; he forgot who he was talking to for a second. Unfortunately, despite knowing better, I was foolish enough to comment on it. My nephew decides that this is funny and proceeds to call me Daddy over and over as a joke. The problem is that my nephew already has a wonderful dad, even if that dad wasn’t able to produce sperm for him, and as a donor, I am quite aware of how important it is that he not call me daddy, even as a joke.

Me: “[Nephew], you shouldn’t call me that. I’m not your daddy.”

Niece: “Well, actually, you gave his mommy sperm, so…”

Now I’m freaked out. I was aware that my niece knew I donated sperm, but I honestly didn’t think she had connected “gave Mommy sperm so she could have me” with the concept of “father” yet. I absolutely did not expect her to interrupt my attempt to distract him with this little speech.

I rush to cut her off.

Me: “Which makes me a donor, but that’s all I am!” *To my nephew* “I really don’t like being called Daddy; it makes me feel bad. How about we think up some better names to call me? Like ‘The Amazing Uncle’ or ‘Sir Awesome McCoolName’?”

Thankfully, my nephew was easily distracted enough at that age that he didn’t appear to have registered or understood my niece’s statement at all and was quickly distracted with funny names to call his uncle.

Later, when I could catch her in private, I spoke with my niece about how some parents weren’t as open as her mother was and that it was important to respect parents’ wishes when it came to what to tell their kids. She promised not to tell any of the other donor siblings about my donating to them unless an adult told her she could, and she has been very careful about not doing so ever since. Luckily, she is one of the few kids you can trust to actually keep a secret when asked! And so, I barely scraped by our fair visit without any upset parents!

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Jesus Wants His Birthday Presents

, , , , , , | Related | December 24, 2020

I’m not a Christian. Of my friends and family, my family is the only group that is Christian. I send out a mass text to everyone, wishing them a “Happy Holidays!” Here are the responses I receive:

Brother: “Happy Holidays!”

Friends: “Happy Holidays!”

My friends’ messages usually come with a note about their day, asking after my health, etc.

Dad: “Merry Christmas! I’ll be going to your aunt’s house for dinner. What about you?”

Mom: “Merry Christmas! Should I call now or later?”

Grandfather: “Merry Christmas! For Christmas, we are celebrating Jesus’ birth. We start our Christmas by going to church to celebrate Jesus’ birth. Christmas has always been about Jesus. Later, we will have Christmas dinner as we watch Christmas movies and open Christmas presents. Have a nice Christmas. Love, Grandpa and Grandma.”

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A Change Of Pace Can Change Everything Else

, , , | Friendly | December 19, 2020

This is a story about my friend and her husband. [Husband]’s father came to the USA from Europe shortly before World War II. The family only had enough money to send one of their two (very) young sons and [Husband]’s dad was the younger one and he got to go along with his mother. They never saw the family again. [Husband] grew up without paternal grandparents as his grandmother died early on, and because she really didn’t know how to go about searching for them, no one knew what became of the family in Europe.

[Husband] is notorious for going on vacation and driving past restaurants, scenic views, and motels because “there might be something better around the bend.” [Friend] says they have sometimes done nothing but drive their whole vacation, and the conversation often goes like this:

Husband: “Gee, that looked like a nice restaurant. Too late to turn back now, though. There’s something better around the bend.”  

One day, they are on a trip through New England, looking for a place to stay the night, and [Husband] is driving along, doing his usual:

Husband: “Oh, oops, that looked like a good place, but we’ve passed it and it’s too late now.”  

They pass a place that looks very homey and cozy, and [Husband] makes his comment and keeps going. I have often wondered HOW they could go a whole week of vacation doing this, but [Friend] seems to think things are fine. They continue driving, and half an hour or more later:

Husband: “I can’t stop thinking about that last place. It’s like a place I’d really like to stay and it looked so inviting.”

And to [Friend]’s surprise, [Husband] turns the car around and goes back to the inn that is now about forty-five minutes away.

She sits in the car while he goes in to see about getting them rooms. And she sits and waits, then waits and sits. Then, she starts getting worried because [Husband] hasn’t come back yet.

FINALLY, almost half an hour later, he comes out.

Husband: “Come with me. You won’t believe it.”

I’m sure everyone can figure out where this is going, but to finish the story, [Husband] and the owner had the same very very unusual last name. They started talking and comparing notes… and [Husband] discovered that he was talking to one of his first cousins. Years after the war, his uncle had finally come to the US. The uncle couldn’t find a trace of his mother or brother, gave up the search, and settled down.

[Friend] said that they spent most of their vacation getting to know various members of [Husband]’s rediscovered family and having a great time doing so.  

Unfortunately, the experience never did — completely, at least — change [Husband]’s habit of driving on without stopping, but at least he had relatives to visit from then on.

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