#(ex bc I moved cities long time ago)

[lesbiankordian]

.

[divinesolas]

The Rockstar and Me

requested: would it be okay, if I requested a rockstar!jace x reader? were theve been best friends since childhood and the reader has a crush on jace. jace is a really popular upcoming rockstar and is super busy. he dosnt see reader the same way (just as there bestfriend) and kind neglects the reader bc he's really busy. so one night the reader has enough and they decide they need to take a break from there friendship, so they don't talk for a while. and then jace kinda realises he missed up and took the readers love for granted. In this time he he realizes he like her too.

w.c: 1.6k

c.w: just some minor angst and some fluff :3, not proofread

masterlist - requests open

--

You are going to scream.

Not of horror and certainly not of pleasure but you were just so annoyed.

Your roommate would not stop playing their fucking songs, most people would call you crazy but you swear you were about to look for a new apartment and put in big red letters, DO NOT REPLY IF YOU LIKE THE WEST DRAGONS. You have nothing against their music but it all just leads back to him.

Childhood best friend and crush turned ex-best friend rockstar Jacaerys Velaryon. He was your best friend for so long and you had liked him, a part of you still does. A part of you still misses him but you did what you had to do.

You could not just sit around and let him ignore you like that, time and time again he would blow you off to the point you grew sick of it and blocked his number and never looked back. You didn’t just ghost him. instead opting to send him a long messages about how you needed space and he was no longer the guy you knew anymore and told him you were gonna reach out anymore.

That was three months ago and your sure he hasn’t even fucking read it let alone try to reply to it. Three months since your life flipped upside down, moving to a new place, still in the same city but further away from him, new job and some new friends, it was odd at first and still is, being away from him but you won’t just let yourself be walked all over like that.

You had planned to stay in tonight like you normally would but your roommate had other plans, standing in the middle of the room bickering with you while you try to block out the sound of their music in the background.

“I don’t wanna go out sab.” “Come on live a little, come out to the bar with me.” “Maybe another night.” “Nope you are coming tonight. right now. get dressed.”

With that she sprints out of the room and you groan knowing she won’t take no for an answer and get up to get ready. Its just one night out, it won’t be so bad, plus it a good excuse so you don't have to hear his music anymore.

Yet when you walk into the bar its packed with people lining up in front of the stage, you turn to sab and tilt your head. “What is going on?”

She looks at you with a big grin on her face, “I didn’t tell you, oh my god the west dragons are performing here in a few.” Your stomach drops.

No you had to leave, maybe you could fake an illness? No she would catch on and force you to stay. You could make yourself throw up? that would cause too much of a scene. You were definitely going to be sick when you see the lights dim and they walk up on the stage.

He’s the drummer he should not even see you right? you’ll just sit at the bar and count down the seconds until the show is over and you can book it out of the room. Aegon greets the crowd as the groups lead singer and your stomach continues to churn. You met him a handful of times and he was always nice to you, he had a nice voice you could agree but you felt so sick anytime you heard their songs.

The show went on without a hitch and you wish the ringing in your ears would get louder so you wouldnt have to hear it. You find yourself reminiscing about your time with jace with every song that plays. You miss him. Much more than you’d like to admit.

You dont allow your eyes to drift behind aegon, yet you hear him, the sound of the drums, it haunts you, sometimes you can see his hands peak out, when aegon moves you can see his dark curls but never look too close to see his face.

They are taking a mini break with aegon entertaining the crowd, the show is almost over, you could not wait to go take a shower and try to act like this night never happened. Aegons eyes drift around the crowd while he’s talking and they land on you, you watch as his eyes widen and he stumbles over his speech for a moment as he turns back for a second to look at jace.

That was not good. Not good at all. “What was that? do you think he thinks your cute?” “definitely not.” Your words come out more strained than you would like and she looks at you confused, “Is something wrong?”

You open and close your mouth unable to know what to say. Your chest feels like its closing in on its self as she grabs your shoulders worriedly. “I need some air.” You quickly stand and rush out of the bar, sab quickly following after you. The two of you don’t notice the pairs of eyes that trail after you.

You lean against the wall on the outside and try to catch your breath. You did not think this would affect you so much, maybe because your whole life has been around him that now it just feels odd that he’s not around. This whole thing reminded you too much of going to his gigs and him coming up to you after the show to ask you what you thought.

“Who cares if i liked it jace? the people loved it.” “I care, you matter more to me than them.”

“Okay what the hell was that?” You run your hands along your face and stare at sab as she looks at your worried. “Its nothing.”

“oh fuck off its not nothing, nobody just runs out the room looking like they just saw their ex boyfriend over nothing.” She gasps at her own words and covers her mouth, “Oh my god wait did you actually date aegon? fuck if i knew i wouldnt have brought you here im sorry-” “I didn’t date ageon sab and i didnt date any of them.” “Then what happened?”

The two of you freeze as someone clears their throat and sab gasps as she turns around. “Im sorry to interrupt but, do you mind if we talk?” Jace. He was staring right at you. Sab looks between the two of you and gives you a look that says she wants to hear all about this before she runs off.

You stand in silence,, not wanting to be the first to speak. He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks on of the rocks on the ground. “How,,, um how are you?” “Im good.” He nods and continues to simply look anywhere but your face. “Thats good thats good um..” Its awkward. So awkward. It was never this way before but you guess thats just what time apart does to people. And you hate it.

“How are you?” He looks up at you shocked before he stumbles over his words, clearly very nervous. “Im good, im good, um, no no im not good actually. I miss you, so much.” Your breath hitches as you watch him continue to speak, “I regret how i treated you, so much. Im so sorry i miss you more than anything please, i just want us to be friends again, ill do anything to make it up to you.”

You don’t know what to say what to do. This is what you’ve been dreaming of for so long but your heart aches at the thought of returning to being just friends.

“I can’t be friends with you jace.” He stumbles back as if you had shoved him and he looks around attempting to compose himself. You swear you can see tears glazing in his eyes, “I um,” His voice cracks as he speaks and he coughs into his arm, “I understand yes of course, im sorry for bother-”

“I cant be friends with you jace because i cant bare being just friends. All ive ever wanted for so long was to be more with you, and if i go back to being just friends ill spend the rest of my life miserable because ill just be dreaming to be more with you.”

You do not even know when you had begun crying but you feel the tears begin to run down your face as you close your eyes and tilt your head down towards the ground. You feel his hands grip your face and pull you up to look at him, seeing his own tears running down his face.

“Im sorry, im so sorry. I love you. Im sorry it took me so long to realize this and that i had to be apart from you to know but ive realized i need you, i love you so much youre my best friend, the only person i need, i love you.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “You dont mean it.” “I do i do mean it, i love you so much.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sob harder. “I love you jace.”

“I love you so much, i will work everyday to earn your forgiveness to even be worthy or your love.”

He shakily presses his lips against yours in a peck and you two smile at one another.

“No more ignoring me?”

“Never, never again.”

--

perm jace taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @ravenn-darkholme

[soul-controller]

Together Forever

As Ryan Sullivan entered his bathroom to have one last look at himself before heading out to a local beach, the 18-year-old and recent high school graduate couldn’t resist smirking upon seeing his own reflection. Standing there in just a pair of swim shorts, the man’s well-defined physique was on full display. Surely with a bod like this, every chick is gonna want their hands all over me, he thought to himself.

Upon pulling his phone from his shorts to take some photos of his progress, the man found a brand new text message from his ex-girlfriend Becca waiting for him. “Hey, I’m outside your house. Please talk to me, I’ll be quick I promise,” the message said, which immediately caused Ryan to chuckle and roll his eyes at the girl’s desperation.

Just over a week ago, Ryan spent an entire night smoking weed with his best friends and thinking about his future. Given the fact that he was just a few months away from moving to the opposite side of the country to go play soccer at a major university, it seemed as though Ryan was being offered the opportunity to get a completely fresh start to his life. No longer would he be an athlete living in a small-town with nothing exciting occurring and practically no attractive women around him. Once he made the move to California, he would be a total hunk living in a big city that would surely keep life interesting (especially with a sudden influx of aspiring models eager to get with him). As such, he quickly realized that being tied down to some high school relationship was a waste of time and a piss-poor decision for his sex life given the long distance that they would have to adapt to. So in his impaired state, Ryan stumbled through his words before eventually sending off a to-the-point and brutal text that broke up his 5-year-long relationship with Becca without a hint of remorse.

For several days since sending that text, Ryan found his phone constantly blowing up with texts and DMs from the shunned woman who begged to have a civil conversation so she could gain closure and they could terminate the relationship like the adults they were on their way to becoming. Although she continually stated that she thought that they would “be together forever”, she wasn’t furious and remained quite level-headed throughout the various messages she sent. But the hunk refused to ever respond to the girl’s messages, instead taking screenshots of the messages and sending them off to his friends while framing the messages as a display of how desperate and pathetic she was. Of course, Ryan’s friends weren’t respectful of the couple’s privacy in the slightest, so they continued to pass along the messages to others until practically everyone in their graduating class knew about the breakup and Becca’s pleas.

In the fallout of the breakup, it wasn’t shocking to discover that drastically different mindsets were formed for each individual involved. While Becca continued to be ridiculed by the jocks and other popular kids that they knew, Ryan was being put on a pedestal as if he had done something noble by breaking them up. The jocks were obviously quite supportive of the breakup, informing Ryan of how “lame” and “awkward” they always thought Becca was while also offering to help be his wingmen to get him laid as soon as possible. In the most puzzling tidbit of all though, it seemed as though many women were on Ryan’s side as well as they reached out to send their regards towards the breakup while also throwing their hat in the ring to be a potential rebound for the man. Throughout the entire experience though, Ryan felt no shame for his actions and didn’t even have a single lingering thought about how Becca was handling everything.

As Ryan rolled his eyes once again upon re-reading the latest message from Becca, the man quickly typed out “fine, make it quick bc i’m heading to the beach” and headed down to the front door. Upon opening it, Ryan took a moment to stare at the girl. Although Becca was quite attractive in her form-fitting crop top that showed off her taut stomach and sizable breasts, the clear sight of runny mascara due to the girl’s crying immediately killed any remaining attraction he felt for the girl. In Ryan’s eyes, signs of weakness in women was the ultimate boner killer for him, so as he moved to the side and allowed the brunette to make her way into the house, he couldn’t help but physically cringe at her as he heard a slight sniffle emerge from her mouth.

Upon shutting the door and turning to face the girl, Ryan immediately crossed his arms as he observed his ex. “So, what do you want to talk about,” he said, his voice completely lacking in any emotion.

As Becca stood there with her head narrowed downwards, the girl’s shaky voice finally began to speak. “I- I’m sorry for this Ryan, I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she began, immediately rushing up to the man and trying to grip him.

Despite how off-put he was by Becca’s statement, the man’s stone-faced expression finally began to soften as he felt the woman’s dainty arms reaching around his back. The physical sensation instantly reminded the man of the good times that they had throughout their many years together, especially when it came to the incredible sex that the two of them had. Immediately, the wheels in his head began turning as the concept of passionate makeup sex popped into his head. Thinking that he might be able to continue having some kinky sex with the girl under the guise of getting back together (he was still planning on going to California completely single), the man finally unfolded his arms.

As he moved the meaty limbs around the woman’s dainty frame and tightly squeezed her though, there was the sudden feeling of heat that spread through both of their bodies. Not only that, but as Ryan continued to hold her with his eyes closed, the sensation of pressure against his torso was quite apparent. So to find some answers about what was going on, the man opened his eyes and looked down at his torso. To his complete horror though, a large section of Becca’s body had somehow sunken into his body! Screaming in horror, he tried his best to try and flee, but found that his movements only brought along the female who was still tightly clinging around his muscular frame.

“Becca, get the fuck off of me,” Ryan cried aloud, trying his best to pull the woman’s arms away from around him but finding that the arms were unable to be pulled apart. As he attempted to thrash and escape the horrific entanglement he was a part of, the man soon found himself unable to move as a tightness was suddenly forming in the circle of limbs and body that wrapped around him. In one sudden tug, every inch of the woman’s body was quickly enveloped into Ryan’s body.

For a moment, everything suddenly went black for Ryan. But after a few seconds, Ryan’s vision was quickly regained and the man began to ponder whether he was having some gnarly after-effects from the weed that he had smoked the night prior. Eager to head to the beach and escape the twisted experience he had just fantasized about, the man quickly tried to fish his car keys out of his pocket and begin his journey. But although he could see the living room foyer he was in, it seemed as though the man had somehow lost the ability to move given the fact that his arms refused to reach towards his pockets. What the fuck is going on? Am I tripping somehow, he asked himself, trying to find some semblance of rationale behind what was occurring to him. But quickly, it became clear that something impossible was happening as his mouth and body began to move on its own accord…

* * * * *

“Hehe yes! It really worked!” his body exclaimed, taking a moment to tilt his head downwards and see the gorgeous shirtless torso staring back at him. To Ryan’s shock and disgust, he could watch and feel as his masculine and callused hands began to graze along every inch of his muscular build. As his body was continuously felt up and his muscles were flexed, the body invader couldn’t resist girlishly giggling as both them and Ryan picked up on the sudden rise of the man’s prominent manhood. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Ryan! This is my first time becoming a guy so bear with me,” the voice said with a chuckle, immediately causing the man to realize that Becca was now the one in complete control of his body!

No matter how hard he screamed and begged, Ryan was unable to get his ex’s attention as she eagerly flexed his muscles and tested out her brand new voice.

“Lemme guess Ryan, you’re currently freaking out and begging what’s happening to you right?” she inquired, taking not even a second-long pause before continuing to speak. “Well to put it simply Ryan, you were a goddamn prick that needed to be taught a lesson. Not only did you reject me for no reason, but you spread my messages around and now everyone in town thinks I’m some desperate and pathetic loser! Like, that’s so fucked up of you babe!” she exclaimed, a clear hint of anger in her gruff voice that immediately made Ryan realize the error of his ways. “Luckily for me, I have a friend who’s a witch that offered to help me get some revenge on my heartless dick of a boyfriend. After she cast the spell on me, I was given the ability of possession upon making physical contact with you. All I had to do was squeeze my way in and now I’m suddenly Ryan Sullivan!”

“Don’t worry though babe, we’re gonna be a great team together. With my brains as the class valedictorian and your brawn, we’ll be unstoppable in college,” she continued, beginning to walk down the hallway of the Sullivan residence. Before long, she finally entered Ryan’s bathroom and Ryan was thus treated to the terrifying sight of his reflection moving and speaking without his control. “While we’re going to be a great team, I can’t deny that we’re going to need to make some changes to your life Ryan. You see, while my friend was able to give me your body and other things such as important memories and your innate athletic skill, she was unable to pass along your sexuality and personality to help make me perfectly inhabit your life. So, I hate to say it babe, but I think you’re going to be coming out as a gay man soon. It works out great though that we’ll be heading out to college in a few months though, especially since that means I can be myself and not have to be this angsty and toxic version of Ryan all of the time.”

Upon understanding that Becca was going to completely demolish his life and the image that he had created for himself as this dominant and extremely cocky hunk, the man couldn’t help but scream into the darkest depths of his mind. To him, this was a nightmare come to life! To make matters even worse, it seemed as though there was no way of ever regaining control of his body as Becca made a passing remark while flexing about how the possession was permanent.

For Becca though, the concept of becoming Ryan Sullivan was a dream come true. Although there would surely be a hard learning curve in terms of adapting to having a cock and the near-constant boners she would surely be sporting for the foreseeable future, it was an upgrade in every other way. The Sullivan family was incredibly wealthy, so she would never have to worry about having to work hard in college. Instead, she’ll have all of the free time in college to explore her new body and build more muscle as she turns herself into the hottest gay man on campus. Although it would surely be nice to find a nice and respectful man to spend the rest of her life with, Becca couldn’t deny how happy she was to still have Ryan in her life. In more ways than one, they would now truly be together forever!

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[princesssmars]

Hiiii! If you don’t mind could you please do a Sam carpenter x fem/gn!reader, where the reader is just like completely overstimulated and someone from the friend group does something that just makes the reader like get super upset and makes them walk away and sam is kinda confused and goes to asks the reader and comforts them and stuff? If not then that’s okay!

trust me

a sam carpenter x reader

wc : 1533

cw : fluff. angst. reader is stressed. conflict caused by mindy but its justified so don't think i don't love her! italic bit thats readers thoughts. ethan slander fuck that little worm. (f/t) means fave takeout!

an : couldnt think of a title nahh 💀but thank you for the request im happy to do it! i hope you like this even if it might be a bit rushed bc i wanna help add to the sam tag since im obsessed with her rn.

when you first moved to new york city it was a whirlwind. new people, new things to see, great food. granted when you got off of your first subway ride a rat tried to fight you over the grinder you had in your hand, but you still loved it.

but of course, everything didn't stay sunshine and rainbows for long. the big apple was expensive, and finding a job that fit your schedule and was able to pay your side of the rent was tough. but you managed. kind of.

your roommate and close friend convinced you to see a therapist she had heard about from a friend, and you decided it couldn't hurt to try. the guy was helpful if a bit annoying, but it was worth it when you saw her coming out of her session. now NYC was filled with a plethora of hot people, but you swear when she made eye contact with you and gave you a polite smile you felt your brain melting.

you saw her a few more times before you introduced yourself. she seemed wary but told you about herself as well, telling you her name was sam and that she had moved to new york not long ago as well with her sister for college. she seemed nervous, but you were a stranger so you chalked it off as anxiety.

you asked her for her number and did a small mental celebration when she said yes, deciding to text her the next afternoon to not seem too desperate.

luckily your efforts paid off! she was a bit distant the first few times you talked, but after inviting her out for lunch at some new restaurant in brooklyn she warmed up to you quickly, even enough to introduce you to her sister and her friends.

it was only after a few weeks of knowing her that you found out what happened in woodsboro. you had an inkling that something bad had happened, the way sam was hesitant with phsyical affection, the caution they all took when locking their doors and carrying mace and tasers with them to get groceries. when sam had let you in to what happened with ghostface - her ex - and how he had almost killed all of them. you had let her know it didn't make tou think of her any differently, that you still cared about her and her past wouldn't change that. that moment had led to the first kiss between the two of you.

and you had meant what you said to sam, that you would stick beside her no matter what. but it still took a toll on you, that danger was following you and the people you had grown to care about no magter what.

the one thing you didn't expect was for them to expect the danger could be you.

it was supposed to be a normal friday night at sam's apartment, spent talking to each other and her friends and maybe watching a movie with some takeout after her appointment. nice and simple.

the door opens and you turn to see if it's sam, smiling when tara, chad, mindy and anika walked through the door. chad's roommate. ethan, wasn't with them this time and you let out a small sigh of relief. he seemed nerdy enough

"hey guys, everything alright?" you asked the group, noticing the down and wary looks on their faces. tara mumbled something before quickly walking into her room, chad hot on her heels. anika rested on the couch next to yours with a sigh, mindy sitting next to her and farther away from you. a bit odd, but you chalked it up to all of them being tired from school.

"something happened over at fordham. some girl from blackmore was found almost butchered in an alley." anika wrings hers hands together, a nervous habit she told you she picked up as a kid.

"jesus christ, do they have any clue who might have done it?" you ask.

"oh please, how many freaks do you you think like to nearly carve out peoples chest?" mindy scoffed, busying herself with something on her phone.

"you don't think it's ghostface, do you?" your voice was wavering against your will. after sam had told you what happened you did some digging into the masked killer, and its safe to say you were on edge until it eventually showed its face again.

she shrugged. "we all knew they were gonna find us again eventually. nows just a matter of determining who it is." she looked at you, and you felt the strain behind your eyes at how far they widened.

"i hope you're not saying what i think you're saying..."

"dont take it too personally, y/n. she accused me and ethan too." anika waved your worries off, and even though her normally peaceful personality would calm anyone down, it wasn't really working right now.

"i'm just saying, you're also new to the friend group, coincidentally moved here a while before us and had the same therapist as sam? and then started dating her? it's suspicious." mindy lists off the reasons she suspects you, and with each item you feel your chest tighten.

is this really what they think of me? a threat? does sam think of me like this? does she not trust me? does she not love me?

you don't register the sound of mindy's voice or the sound of the front door opening before you hurry from the couch to the bedroom near the back of the apartment - sam's room.

you sit on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, trying to calm the racing negative thoughts in your head. it feels like hours when its probably been a few minutes of you failing to calm yourself down when the door opens slowly and a weight sits down on the bed next to you.

"is it ok if i touch you?" sam ask from next to you, making sure to keep a good distance so as not to overwhelm you. when you nod and whisper out a yes she moves to sit behind your body, wrapping her arms around you and allowing you to fall back and rest on her chest.

"do you wanna tell me what's going on? it's alright if you dont, i'll still be right here."

her soft tone makes you squint your eyes hard, scared that she's trying to get you to let your guard down. but there's a little voice in your head that trusts her more than anything. that desperately wants to let her in. so you do.

"it's just...mindy was talking about ghostface and she was questioning me. i know that you've all been through so much but...if they can't, if you don't trust me then i don't know what i would do."

sam doesn't interrupt while you speak, fully paying attention to your words as you let her know what's bothering you. you're just about to walk back your statement because of her silence when she softly turns your body to sit sideways in her lap, bringing her hand up to cup your face and turn it so you can't look anywhere but her eyes.

"hey, i want you to listen to me, ok? you know mindy. she's just looking out for us, she didn't mean to antagonize you im sure of it. if anything i'm pretty sure if ghostface comes back she's more likely to suspect ethan right away, the kid weirds her out," she says, unable to help herself from smiling when you giggle at her words.

"but more importantly you know me. you know i'd never have anyone around me, my sister or our friends if i didn't trust them, yeah? i trust you and i love you, more than anything."

you cant help but tear up and smile at her words. sam wasn't one for frequent words of affection, so you knew when she said something she meant it. she lets out a small grunt when you throw yourself into a hug in her arms, tackling the both of you onto the bed in a heap of giggles. you spend the next few minutes laughing and sharing small i love you's and sweet kisses.

after you've both calmed down sam asks if you're ready to head into the living room, squeezing your hand when you give a strained little nod. walking together back to the living room, your face lights up at the smell of your favorite takeout, rushing to the couch to see everyone munching down on some food.

mindy turns her head around to see you and purses her lips awkwardly. "uh, i was hungry so i ordered some (f/t). there's enough for the both of you."

"she's trying to apologize for calling you ghostface." tara butts in while taking another bite of her food, ignoring when mindy slaps her on the leg.

"aww, it's alright cheeks. i understand." you tease the brunette with the silly nickname you gave her a few weeks ago, reaching over to squish her cheeks together like a kid. she sticks her tounge out at you but doesn't move to stop you, figuring she'll let you have this.

"yeah yeah whatever, sit down and eat your food."

you sit on sams' lap on the squished couch, ignoring the kissing noises and fake gagging sounds of your friends. in this moment, nothing anyone says can get to you.

.

.

.

i believe in the lost art of ending the fic with a cheesy bit. happy pride gaybos.

[taximaximus]

Despite the little Newtmas circle I've been trying to cultivate for my feed, lately some Thomesa takes keep slipping in, so I'm gonna give yall mine (whether you want it or not)

Thomas and Teresa (movies) are partners to friendly exes

Let me explain:

They genuinely had a relationship before the Maze. They genuinely loved each other despite all the shitty circumstances and differing opinions. They found solace in each other bc they were one of the few, if not the only ones, who could understand what they were going through

Then Thomas started to see WICKED for what it truly was and was sent into the Maze, mind wiped. He was able to develop friendships, try to act as a protector, to these Gladers because he was now on equal ground with them (and develop much more for Newt). Things became complicated in good and bad ways

Yet some of those residual feelings for Teresa still lingered when she came up through the Box, and she felt them too. Their actions throughout the whole movies was them trying to salvage those feelings and failing

Thomas turning down Brenda? He was afraid of officially moving on and breaking Teresa's heart (and I see Thomas and Brenda as siblings more than anything)

Thomas wanting to find Teresa in the Last City? He still cares about her, no matter if they're in a relationship or not

The kiss they share before Teresa dies? Their last fleeting attempt at salvaging a relationship that died long ago. Yearning for the simpler times between them back in WICKED. Letting the other know that despite the feelings that are dead and gone, they still care for them and won't forget what they had

Tragic partners to exes

[love-kurdt]

This is Me Trying (Mike's Version) (byler): 1

word count: 6,469

warnings for this chapter: lots of sexual content!! underage drinking, mentions of drug use, roofie mention bc college, internalized homophobia, maaaajooorrrr depression. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short: if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, please dni.

If someone were to ask me what time it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. First off, I would look down at my watch and realize that said watch was not on my wrist. I would then ask myself why my watch was not on my wrist, then I would remember, oh yeah, Will has a matching one, and I was dead to Will, so I didn’t wear the watch anymore. Time was just a construct, anyway. In the end, I’d probably mess around with the person asking and say some shit like, “It’s 420:69.” I was drunk, though, so I was allowed.

I was at some frat party, spending what was my last official night as a student at the University of Indianapolis with the brotherhood of Alpha Lambda Dickhole. I was seated on some musty couch, stained with whatever the fuck that was, with an empty glass resting between my legs and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I’d given up some time ago on trying to pace myself. Some kind of synth-infused rock music vibrated across the floor, and I could feel the bass reverberating in my bones, which would normally make me want to get up and dance, but I wasn’t particularly in a celebratory mood; I was only halfway through my sophomore year, and had just dropped out.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming. I had been spiraling for a long time. It all started over summer break between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college. I never even wanted to go to college in the first place. What was the point of spending tens of thousands of dollars on a creative writing degree when I could just freelance and eventually get published? But my father insisted that I at least attend a state school with cheaper tuition, claiming, “You can’t run on ink and espresso, son. You have to put in the work and have the credentials to show for it.” On the bright side, it was a miracle that Dad had enough confidence in me to allow me to pursue writing at all. But I was on thin ice with my father, had been for years, so I agreed to at least think about college.

My friends chose their respective schools fairly quickly; Dustin had gotten in with a full ride scholarship to Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Max and Lucas went to UCLA as sports science and physical therapy double majors, El went to Vanderbilt University in Nashville to pursue a degree in therapy, and Will… Will went to Chicago. Which school he went to, or if he went to college at all, I didn’t know. To study what, I had no clue. Where he lived within the city, I hadn’t the slightest idea. That’s what happens when your ex-best friend up and leaves without so much as a “goodbye.” I considered the day Will left to be the day my world stopped turning and time froze. So I took off my watch and hid it in a shoebox under my bed with the rest of my mini-shrine.

Dr. Owens and his team had arranged government-mandated counseling for all of those involved in the Vecnapocalypse. A year in, though, I didn’t see a point in going anymore. I was healed. I was fine. I was ready to move on with my life. Well, everyone else in the Party was ready to move on. Why wouldn’t I be? It probably hadn’t been the best decision on my part to stop going to therapy, but without Will in my life, I didn’t have much of a reason to stay in Hawkins at all, and I really didn’t feel like dredging up my past once a week to pick apart as if I were in an anatomy lab practical. Besides, I didn’t feel like arguing anymore with my dad. So, I begrudgingly packed my bags and headed to Indianapolis, killing two birds with one stone.

When I got to campus, I was assigned to dorm with this guy named Elvis (yes, as in Presley). Aside from his stupid ass name, Elvis Kuiken was a good roommate. He was a senior who kept to himself most days, when he wasn’t working. He was clean, at least by my standards (which were on the floor, literally and figuratively speaking), and he was also part of a fraternity. He’d always bring me along to parties, all in the name of the formative freshman experience. What this “experience” primarily entailed, I came to find out, was alcohol. Weed, too, no doubt… but extra emphasis on alcohol.

I didn’t want to admit it, at least not to others, but I became a lot more withdrawn since my falling out with Will. I wasn’t as outgoing, as daring, or as extroverted as I used to be. I was used to being an outcast of sorts, so not much changed there. Except now, where I used to have the confidence to at least approach people and introduce myself– “Hi, I’m Michael! Do you want to be my friend?” “Yes.”– I couldn’t do that anymore. It was like my communicational skills had completely disappeared. But during my first party, I took a shot of tequila and must’ve made at least ten acquaintances within the three hours I was there. If only Troy could see how popular I was now. He’d piss his pants… again. It was like a light flickered on in my head; the more I drank, the more sociable I’d become. I took this epiphany and ran with it.

One time back in— September?— or something, I had been at a party for a few hours, and came up with the idea to try every single type of liquor to ever exist. I picked up a shot glass and stood at the counter for a good fifteen minutes, downing shot after shot. I woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache, unsure of how I even got back to my dorm room. But then I looked to my right and saw Elvis’s head resting on my very shirtless, hickey-covered chest. Oh. That’s how I got home. I wasn’t able to wear any shirts with collars below my clavicle for days. I didn’t hate it, though. In fact, that wasn’t the last time my roommate and I hooked up. Stumbling through the door, making out in the dark, and whispering each other’s names into otherwise complete silence until the sun came up became a regular occurrence.

Christmas break arrived, and most of my time back in Hawkins was spent trying to avoid Will. And from the way I saw it, Will was everywhere. He was the art on my bedroom wall. He was the yellow sweater that hung in my closet, probably the only colorful item in my entire wardrobe that I hadn’t thrown out, because it was Will’s sweater. He was the shea butter soap on the bathroom counter. He was the hot cocoa mix in the kitchen cabinet. He was the D&D box buried underneath my bed that I neglected since Eddie’s death in 1986. He was the Party. So I didn’t leave my basement for the entirety of mid-December to the beginning of January, with the exceptions of family dinners and sleep. I won’t lie, I was a little bit ashamed of how I’d handled things with the Party. I definitely shouldn’t have iced everyone out. My friends made various attempts to get the Party back together, and always invited me, but I’d always have some kind of excuse as to why I couldn’t hang out with them. They eventually stopped calling.

One Saturday afternoon, I was sprawled out on the couch watching Star Wars: Episode VI– Return of the Jedi, and Nancy and Jonathan came barrelling in through the basement entrance, practically swallowing each other whole. I missed the feeling of being in love. I’d cleared my throat when it started to get a bit too steamy, causing the lovebirds to jump apart in shock. Nancy smoothed her skirt while Jonathan lifted a hand into the air to greet me. I nodded back in acknowledgement. This silent interaction had me wanting to crawl out of my skin. All I wanted to do was ask Jonathan about Will; how Will was, what Will was doing, if Will had met anyone, if Will remembered me. It was like Jonathan could read my mind, because he said, completely unprompted, “He still thinks about you, Mike. He hasn’t forgotten you.” I actively committed those words to memory.

I ran into Joyce during a last minute school supplies shopping trip to Melvald’s on my way out of town. It was bound to happen at some point, what with Joyce owning Melvald’s now. I’d expected it to be awkward, but was proven wrong when Joyce practically jumped the counter to engulf me, her honorary third son, in a hug. She’d pulled me all the way down to her level, so I was bent at almost a 90 degree angle, but I didn’t care.

“How’ve you been, sweetheart? How’s Indy treating you?” she asked. That was a loaded question. It would be spectacular if your son hadn’t left, but whatever.

“It’s treating me well, I’m mostly taking my gen eds right now, but I’m always writing my own material when I’m not in class,” I grinned, trying my best to not let it look fake or forced. Joyce seemed to buy it.

“I’m so glad to hear that. You know, I always knew you were going to become a writer,” Joyce smiled, and I nodded, staying as neutral as possible. I knew where she was going with this. “I remember it as if it were yesterday,” bingo, “that in the mornings after your sleepovers, you and Will would sit at the dining room table with your eggs and maple syrup and work on your comics for hours. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah,” I replied wistfully, “I do.” I glanced down at my shoes, trying not to let any tears escape. The amount of crying over Will that I’d done just within the time I was back home was pathetic. But Joyce didn’t seem to mind in the least, because she reached up and ran her thumbs over my cheeks, where a few stray tears had traveled down against my will. 

“Oh, honey,” Joyce held my face in her hands, eyes filled with compassion, and pulled me into another hug, holding me close. I had always loved Joyce, but this mutual understanding led me to reserve a special place in my heart for her.

We engaged in a little more small talk before she personally walked (dragged) me through the store with my shopping list to retrieve the items I needed. When she checked out my items at the counter, she grabbed a pen and post-it note, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. I held it up to eye level with a shaky hand.

“That’s Will’s phone number, he’s at the American Academy of Art,” she whispered. My eyes widened, and I breathed, “Thank you, Ms. Byers. So much,” before heading out the door to my car. I sat in the parking lot for a solid fifteen minutes, causing myself to fall behind schedule, but I had Will’s phone number. That was a good enough reason to be late, in my book.

After what felt like a fucking eternity, I was finally able to return to campus. I’d set my suitcase down next to my bed, and took a minute to collect my thoughts prior to unpacking. All of a sudden, Elvis clumsily tripped over his own feet through the door, sheepishly grinning at me, having just been startled. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, followed by a quiet, “hi.” Seconds later, we were all over each other.

It was around this time that I finally came to terms with the undeniable fact that I was exclusively attracted to men. I’d always believed my sexual preferences existed as a strict ratio of 70:30, with 70% being women and 30% being men. I’d always been aware of my attraction to guys (Will); I’d been sure of that for as long as I could remember. The confusing part about it all was when El came into the picture, and everyone and their mother expected us to start dating. I was, like, twelve at the time, so of course I went along with what everyone else wanted. That backfired majorly when El confronted me with tears in her eyes, asking, “But… you don’t love me anymore?” and my impulse response was, “I don’t even think I loved you romantically to begin with.” It took a long time for me and El to repair our friendship following that conversation, and to help me bullshit my parents into falling for some half-baked reason as to why my “sweetie pie” and I broke up so suddenly.

When I started my… situationship with Elvis, though, I began to question my 70:30 ratio. Elvis, to put it simply, was hot. He was taller than me, just by an inch, but it didn’t stop him from calling me “short.” I found that hilarious, as I stood at a staggering six foot three. Elvis had tanned skin, blonde hair which he kept in a preppy side part, and bright eyes that captured the essence of the bluest sky. He had full lips, a chiseled jawline, and a lean yet muscular build with the likeness of a Greek statue. Elvis had the most gorgeous hands. I particularly liked when those hands pinned my wrists above my head. I also liked when those blue eyes bore into my soul in the way that only one other pair of eyes had ever been able to do within my mere eighteen years of life. And I loved when that chiseled jawline, rough from lack of shaving, rubbed abrasively against my neck.

Elvis was adamant on there being no strings attached. He made sure to remind me every time we did anything remotely sexual, but over time, those words began to lose their potency, like watering down vodka to make it go down smoother. My wide eyes and “yes, of course, I understand”s were slowly replaced with absentminded “mmhmm”s. I figured that as long as Elvis never picked up on my social cues (or lack thereof), and as long as he never knew about me secretly developing more-than-fuck-buddies feelings for him, I would be in the clear. But eventually, something in Elvis had melted away, and he started calling me “my boy,” “love,” and “sweetheart,” amongst other gross (sweet) pet names. I assumed that Elvis had caved and given up on whatever rules he’d set for himself.

Regardless of the apparent stability in our situationship, my mind dwelled in a constant state of disarray. I knew I was not straight. I wasn’t even sure if I was bisexual. I became more conscious of who caught my eye in public, and what I wanted out of the people I interacted with. I discovered I didn’t feel the same way about curves, boobs, or soft lips as I felt when I saw a pair of broad shoulders, a sharp jawline, or a tapered waistI felt different.

Part of me resented  myself for being different. I hated the idea of being a target, whether it be for my family, the government, or society as a whole. I'd tried to change. I hooked up with a few girls over the course of a week, “just to see something,” but I'd spent the entire time wondering when it would be over so I could go home. All of those girls either got bored, weren’t satisfied, or got mad that I couldn’t get it up— if not a combination of all three— and left. I scared myself a little when I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

When my encounter with the last girl fell through, I decided I didn’t want to live my life in sexuality limbo anymore. I ran all the way back to my dorm hall, hauled ass up the stairwell, and let myself into my room. Elvis spun around from where he sat at his desk, and could barely get out a “Hey, man,” before I was ripping Elvis from his chair and pulling him in, kissing him with all my might. It didn’t take long for Elvis to reciprocate my advances, kissing back with equal intensity and pushing me back until we hit the side of Elvis’s raised bed frame. I huffed a laugh against Elvis’s lips before hoisting myself up backwards and onto the mattress, watching as Elvis chased after me. He pushed his knee between my legs, and I took the hint, wrapping my ankles around Elvis’s hips. “I want to be with you, baby. With strings, all the strings,” I had told Elvis before pulling him down for another searing kiss, and… that was when my memory cut out for the evening.

I woke up the next morning, hangover hitting me like a truck, to see Elvis already awake and dressed, lifting boxes onto a trolley that was stationed in the middle of the room. Through squinted eyes, I noticed Elvis’s side of the room was essentially bare, save for the dorm furniture, which belonged to the school.

“What’s happening?” I croaked out, and Elvis dropped the box he was holding onto the pile with a loud thump. “Too loud. Headache,” I whispered sharply through gritted teeth.

“It always is too loud, isn’t it?” my roommate laughed wryly to himself, not making any effort to be any quieter. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and ignoring the fact that I was naked and in Elvis’s bed, the only thing that hadn’t been packed up yet.

“What the fuck, Elvis? What are you doing?”

“I’m moving out today, remember?” The two young men finally gained eye contact, and I felt my stomach drop like I was on a roller coaster. “I’m graduating in a few days and need my stuff out by this afternoon.”

Move out was today? Vecna must have been back with a vengeance, because how else would time move so quickly on its own? Sure, Elvis mentioned in passing, like, a few weeks ago, at most, that he was leaving soon. But it still didn’t make sense, because it was only… What, March? No, The Phone Call™ was a while ago. Was it April? My mom called me at least a few weeks prior to wish me a happy nineteenth birthday. Plus, weren’t commencement ceremonies scheduled for the weekend of– “What’s today’s date?”

I watched the blonde in front of me unsubtly scoff with impatience. “It’s May 1st, Mike.” I could only blink back at Elvis in response for a few seconds while I tried to process the fact that my brain was capable of skipping over whole months of my life. There was no way it was May 1st already. 

“No,” was the only word I was capable of saying.

“Yet here we are, baby,” Elvis sneered as he whipped his comforter off of me, leaving me exposed and humiliated. “Time flies when you’re blackout drunk. I suggest you try and get your drinking under control, before you end up having to drop out.”

It was like Elvis was a completely different person, completely different from the man who had fucked me senseless the night before. What did I do to deserve this? I didn’t do or… say anything? Oh no. Now I knew what was going on. I drank too much, opened up, and blurted out loud that I wanted to be in a relationship with Elvis, who didn’t feel the same. my face was on fire with embarrassment.

I scrambled off the bed and ran to get dressed while Elvis pulled the last of his sheets off the cheap university mattress. He didn’t fold them, and instead balled them up and shoved them in the trash. I could barely breathe. I merely stood there and watched as my gorgeous Greek (actually Dutch) god of a roommate left our shared room for the last time. Well, I seemingly dodged a bullet. What an asshole.

I was sad that Elvis was gone, but it didn’t completely destroy me the way Will leaving did. What it most likely came down to, in Elvis’s instance, was a horrible case of internalized homophobia. I was very familiar with this mindset; I'd fought a gory, gruesome battle with my own mind for my entire adolescence, at war with myself to prevent acting upon my ever-growing romantic love for Will. But one day, my feelings finally retaliated, and my life immediately went to shit.

“What are you doing, Mike? Is this a joke?”

“No, Will, I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

Comparing the two inevitably led to some old memories resurfacing to haunt me, but I felt strangely lucky. I'd been let off easily. Despite the way I stood completely stupefied in my dorm room, I knew this was temporary, and had full confidence that I'd be able to recover from this pretty quickly. Said confidence was probably the only thing that saved me from losing my mind. Well, that, and the pressure to pass my classes distracted me for a few days. Without having done much studying at all, I army crawled through my finals and barely made it out alive.

About a week later, I moved out of my dorm hall and into an apartment about two miles away from campus. It was a pretty nice place, considering the rent he (my father) paid for it. I got a job at the local coffee shop… which I lost before the month was up, because he never showed up to my shifts. I'd been shocked when Ted insisted upon co-signing the lease, because I didn’t think my dad would be willing to help me stay away from Hawkins. On the other hand, though, it made sense when Ted told me flat out that he wanted me out of the house. I didn’t blame him; I'd been referred to by my father as a “leech” on multiple occasions during my stay over Christmas break, which pretty much tracked. I felt a little guilty about that one.

I appreciated the independence, I truly did. It was a great feeling to have my own room again, to have a more comfortable desk chair to sit at while I drew up plans for a new fantasy novel starring a gay protagonist, to have a bathroom to myself, and most importantly, to have a full-sized refrigerator to fill with all the alcohol I could ever want. But sometimes, late at night, I would catch myself getting a bit too sad.

The entire summer was an endless cycle. I would wake up and make a pot of coffee. I'd sit down and write a chapter or two of my book, and stick to doing that for a few hours. I would check the time (on my wall clock, of course) and take a lunch break, which was usually a box of Annie’s shells and white cheddar. After I'd haphazardly tossed my singular bowl and fork into the sink to be washed later, I'd go back to writing. This wouldn’t last long, because I'd get distracted after smoking a joint, and probably end up staring at that one photo of myself and Will from senior year (Jonathan captured the moment: I had, by some miracle, perched myself up on Will’s handlebars, and Will struggled to hold his bike steady because I was laughing too hard) that sat framed on my desk. I'd snap out of my trance ten minutes later and mentally kick myself for staring for so long, which led to grabbing some form of alcohol and getting wasted, like all my potential. I would make one last attempt at writing and fail miserably. I'd stumble into the shower, and drag myself through my apartment until I found my bed. Most nights, I would end up crying myself to sleep, staring at The Painting™, which I'd tacked up on my bedroom ceiling as a form of self-punishment. It was a sad way to live, really. So I vowed that when the school year started up again, things would be different.

That was how I ended up at the library in late July, browsing the mythology section, squinting at titles printed on spines while my lips formed a straight, thin line. I knew I was officially a hermit when even the library gave me social anxiety. I'd just pulled a rather old looking book off the shelf when a tenor voice behind me caught me off guard.

“Never thought I’d see the day that book would leave the shelf. You must’ve had to brush off, like, a hundred years’ worth of dust just to get to the cover.” I twisted around to put a face to a voice, and was pleasantly surprised when I met eyes with a short guy (well, to me he was short; he was probably, like, 5’9”) with dyed, firetruck red hair that fell over his forehead in a sweeping motion. I liked how he wasn’t afraid to be bold.

“You’re definitely right about that,” I smirked, setting the book down and watching as the growing pile teetered from side to side on the table’s surface. I couldn’t decide where I wanted my story to go next, let alone if I wanted to continue with my current plot at all, so I'd planned on taking a bit of inspiration from… well, everything.

“So you’re into mythology?” the guy asked, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, leaning against the bookshelf as I focused my gaze down. He had pretty eyes. They were hazel, but not too green, not like–

“Yeah, I’m a creative writing major, and I’m trying to expand my horizons a little,” I replied, sitting down at the table. “Like, not to discount the genius of Tolkein, because he literally founded my childhood, but sometimes it’s good to go back to the basics and draw inspiration from there.”

The guy shrugged, and sat across the table from me. “Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s really smart, actually. Or else stories end up getting repetitive and dull.”

“Exactly!” I pointed both index fingers in the guy’s direction, as if to say, “Finally, someone who understands!” I struggled with this concept lately; the uniqueness factor. It turned out that having a male protagonist who just so happened to be romantically attracted to other males wasn’t enough reason to get a book to sell. I needed something else, something of substance, and something that wouldn’t remind readers of other books they’d previously read. “Are you into writing as well?”

“No,” the guy shyly smiled, “I’m just into guys who write about mythology.” Pardon? Was this masculine male-dude-man hitting on me? In public? I wasn’t complaining, but I hadn’t necessarily picked up on any hints. Although, the dyed hair should’ve been a dead giveaway.

“Oh. Um, I– wow, okay,” I stuttered, diverting my eyes to my books for a few seconds to process what was being said before returning to an expectant pair of hazel eyes still looking right at me. “I’m Mike, Mike Wheeler.”

“Wyatt Bowman.”

I cleared my throat. “Are you free in an hour, Wyatt?”

“Yeah, why?” Wyatt raised an eyebrow, causing me to huff a nervous laugh, tapping my Ticonderoga pencil against my spiral-bound notebook at the same speed my knee bounced up and down underneath the table.

“I just gotta take some notes from here, then I was thinking we could… hang out, or something?” I glanced up hopefully at Wyatt.

The corners of Wyatt’s mouth curved upwards as he repeated, “Or something?”

I nodded, confirming our silent sub-conversation.

“Cool. That sounds like a good plan,” Wyatt said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table as he rose out of the seat and headed for the exit.

“Cool,” I whispered back, reminiscent of a certain afternoon in a certain town in California in a certain room with a certain boy that made me feel a certain way. But that was the past, and I believed I was ready for the future. 

When I started seeing Wyatt Bowman, we’d established that our relationship would not be serious. We were, in a small amount of words, friends with benefits. And we were actually friends. We could hang out without getting all hot and heavy. And I didn’t have any objections; I actually preferred the idea of friends who sometimes had sex over the label-less, no strings arrangement that Elvis and I had. It left less room for loopholes of chronic insecurity and self sabotage. It also, in turn, left more room for exploration.

I met Wes Butler in August at my first ever visit to an actual bar. I'd been sitting at the counter with a few of my female friends (Ruby, Alexis, and Julia), and had just received one of the fruitiest cocktails I'd ever tasted when a piece of eye candy, who might as well have been dressed in nothing, lightly tapped my shoulder and asked me to dance. Of course the girls encouraged me, not really giving me an option in the matter, but hey, good dick was good dick. It didn’t really turn into much else; once we’d had a few rounds of unnecessarily loud sex in a supply closet (ironic, but typical), I bid goodbye to my friends, tossing my condom wrappers in the trash on the way out.

I met another guy, Walker Brooks, in September at an off-campus nerd rave. He looked a lot like Eddie Munson, which may or may not have been coincidental. We left the party not even an hour after it began to go to Walker’s dorm. We fucked in between Lord of the Rings themed bedsheets, and I had to endure an excruciating hour and a half of Walker speaking Elvish rather than English. Afterwards, he invited me to join the University of Indy D&D Club, of which he was, of course, the Dungeon Master. I politely declined.

On a particularly difficult October night following being roofied followed by some unwanted advances, I slapped myself awake with one hand as I unsteadily held my handlebars with the other, biking back to my apartment. My grip slipped, and the front wheel hit the curb, which sent the bike to come to a screeching halt and throw me over the handlebars, tumbling onto the concrete. Warren Blakely, one of my classmates in English 101, watched me fall, stopped me from biking again before I hurt myself even more, and asked me what exactly had happened. Once I told Warren what had gone down, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Over the next two months or so, Warren kept me safe and let me take control back over my own life. Warren and I had a special bond. If I didn’t still love Will, and if I didn’t have such extreme trust issues, I would have absolutely dated Warren if provided the chance. But I couldn’t, not until I got over Will, so I ended things with Warren. This specific relationship put things into perspective for me. In the end, none of these men I slept with would ever be Will Byers. So I'd either have to get over Will, or find someone better.

On the nights I wasn’t at parties, I was at my desk, writing letters to Will. It was kind of cathartic, honestly. I'd rip a piece of college ruled paper out of my notebook, just like old times, and write letter after letter saying things along the lines of:

Dear Will, I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry that I love you. I’m sorry I did what I did to you. And I’m sorry I can’t take it back. I wish we could be best friends again. I wish we could have late night walkie conversations like we used to. I want nothing more than to play D&D in the basement with you for the rest of our lives. Love, Mike

These occasional letters became a part of my nightly routine… whenever I wasn’t too fucked up to focus my eyes on my own handwriting. And recently, it was more often than not that I couldn’t actually fall asleep without drinking. I wasn’t even of legal age yet, and wouldn’t be for another two years.

I stopped attending my classes halfway through the semester, so it wasn’t a surprise when my grades plummeted. My mailbox became inundated with letters from the registrar’s office, advising me to withdraw from the classes I was failing before the pass/fail deadline, but I couldn’t care less; so, not only did I fail out of my classes, but I couldn’t even retake the classes even if I wanted to, because my record forced me into the red zone. And the entire time, I couldn’t feel a thing.

If someone were to ask me what time it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. First off, I would look down at my watch and realize that said watch was not on my wrist. I would then ask myself why my watch was not on my wrist, then I would remember, oh yeah, Will has a matching one, and I was dead to Will, so I didn’t wear the watch anymore. Time was just a construct, anyway. In the end, I'd probably mess around with the person asking and say some shit like, “It’s 420:69.” I was drunk, though, so I was allowed.

I was at some frat party, spending what was my last official night as a student at the University of Indianapolis with the brotherhood of Alpha Lambda Dickhole. I was seated on some musty couch, stained with whatever the fuck that was, with an empty glass resting between my legs and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I'd given up some time ago on trying to pace myself. Some kind of synth-infused rock music vibrated across the floor, and I could feel the bass reverberating in my bones, which would normally make me want to get up and dance, but I wasn’t particularly in a celebratory mood; I was only halfway through my sophomore year, and had just dropped out.

“Hey, by any chance do you know the time?” a deep voice asked, and I lifted my gaze up from my lap to a muscular brunette. I blinked a few times in an attempt to form a coherent sentence.

“I, uh– I don’t—” I stuttered, lifting my bare, watch-less wrist up to show to the guy, who merely lifted an unserious eyebrow and chuckled. He took my hand in his and let it down gently before sitting next to me on the couch.

“It’s all good, man. I was just using that as a reason to talk to you.”

I was surprised someone clocked me that quickly. But then again, I was wearing insanely tight jeans that I'd cut right above the knee paired with a floral print shirt. I wasn’t exactly being subtle. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” the guy laughed, extending a rough, calloused hand. Did he lift weights? Or play guitar? Or both? “I’m Carter, by the way.” At least his name didn’t begin with a W. Or maybe it did, but the W was silent. Wcarter. Ouah-carter. Wah-carter. Double-you-carter. Dub-yuh-Carter. Cart… Chart… Astrological chart. I made a mental note to check my horoscope. What was I thinking about originally? I couldn’t remember.

Jesus. I was hammered.

“I’m Mike,” I replied, taking the guy’s— Carter’s— hand, but Carter didn’t shake it. He instead let our fingers intertwine, anticipatorily slow. Okay. I could be good with this.

“Do you maybe want to get out of here, Mike?” Carter asked, and I felt a blush rising to my face.

“Sure, yeah,” I breathed, and let Carter pull me up out of my sunken spot on the couch, down some hallway, and into an empty bedroom. I scoped out the place and noticed a photo of Carter with a dog framed on the desk; this was his room. I exhaled in relief. I didn’t want to have sex in someone else’s bed. Never again.

Carter pulled the door closed and locked it, turning around to face me before looking me up and down. I gulped. I hadn’t realized before, because it was so dark, but in the lamplight, Carter’s resemblance to Will was uncanny. He was a few inches shorter than me, and had a muscular build– that much I knew already. Thank god he didn’t have a bowl cut. He had a strong jawline but a subtle softness to his features. His lips were a light pink, the upper one a bit thinner than the lower one. The most similar feature they shared, though, was their bright green eyes, full of life, and something else I couldn’t name… intention? Vulnerability? Yearning?

In my inebriated state, I didn’t notice how close Carter had gotten until I felt two hands snaking their way up my shoulders and joining behind my neck, pulling me down until our lips met. I couldn’t move fast enough, lifting my shaking hands to rest on Carter’s waist, pulling him into my chest and deepening the kiss immediately. Carter was more languid in his movements, while I was more firm and calculated; this felt strangely antithetical. It probably had to do something with my increased tolerance. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but if there was one person who knew how to repress their feelings with a series of bad decisions, it was me. Mike Wheeler. My life was already on fire, what more could possibly happen to exacerbate the flame?

The two of us made our way over to Carter’s bed, where we quickly undressed. Carter kissed down my body, and I ran my hands through Carter’s hair. Then he went down on me without warning.

“Ah!” I yelped in surprise, my exclamation becoming a moan almost instantaneously. This was good. This felt nice. This is exactly what I’d imagine–

“Will…”

“Excuse me?”

And with that, the night was over. Carter stopped what he was doing, got up, muttered a “fuck you,” and left without another word. I felt the world zeroing in on me. I could just picture what I’d write in my next letter:

Dear Will,

I said your name while another guy had my dick in his mouth. Do you believe me now?

Love, Mike

next part

homepage

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

The ghosts of penises past strikes again... twice in one month.

I finally had cut ties with M. Like deleted his contact info from EVERYWHERE so I couldn't dig it back out some time when I was feeling lonely and unattractive.

I didn't block him, because he hadn't been responding the last time I tried talking to him, and because I made a promise once to always be there for him if he needed me. He may have no sense of honor and he may never keep his word, but I'm not that person. If I PROMISE (rather than just saying I will) I fucking stick to it. I have too many broken promises and cracks in my heart from them to do otherwise.

So I'm sitting here one day chilling, working on some research, and I see the whatsapp notification on my bar. I assume it's this company that always sends me promos or a back up running. Nope, it's him.

He beats around the bush for awhile before making it clear he was looking for sex. And I said no, that he should remember my stance on casual meaningless sex. He suggested an ongoing thing getting to know each other. When I asked why he reached out to me when he could find someone easily to cheat on his gf with he gave me some bullshit. Then said how he didn't want to get back together, it'd take a lot of long conversations before we got there and I straight up laughed. For a solid 3 minutes straight. Then went why would I want to repeat the worst mistake I ever made. Not that he meant it -- those conversations would never happen unless he needed me to feel guilty about something and he was never going to want a relationship with me. It was the equivalent of the married man leaving hints he'd leave his wife for you if things worked out. I listed all the shit he pulled and he got mad, how it reminded him of how I'd berate him and never let go of anything (a, he kept doing the sane shit and b, funny how that's the same thing he said about all his exes to me way back when) and he'd just been thinking with his dick again and should find someone easier and thanks for the reminder. So I responded even his dick should have known better than to try to hook up with me after making his disdain for me clear, abd that he absolutely should find someone else bc not only did my mind not want him but I was bone dry at the idea of him ever touching me again.

Then I think he deleted whatsapp despite needing to talk to people in Europe, because his pic and stuff went but it didn't tell me I was blocked which it usually does, I think. Fucking coward.

So we'll see how long this sticks, as it's fine for him to ignore me but he can't stand when I don't want him. Hopefully forever.

Then I get a message yesterday. A guy I went out with 3 times in January or something. Guy wanted me to accept scraps of time when his wife thought he was with friends bc she wanted a don't ask don't tell. Even I had more self respect than that. Oh and he wanted a lifestyle partner, not a life partner. Not bc he loves his wife but bc he likes his life the way it is and if he could squeeze in some kink on his terms only, so much the better. I shot that shit down and called him out for being completely manipulative and selfish, qualities he thought he'd left behind and no, still the same guy he was when some other poor woman had to call him on it and I said so. I'm not shy.

He acknowledged I'd been right, apologized, asked to be friends first, and to unblock him on fet. I said I'd agree to friends, and he proceed to pull all kinds of manipulative crap in the course of one conversation -- still saying he wanted a lifestyle partner to which I asked why I'd want that now when I already turned down that same offer from the same guy months ago. I called him out on his refusal to compromise or adjust anything in his life, because I'm worth more than his leftover crumbs. He said how not many guys would drive out to the city I'm moving to and again I laughed -- does he think that a college town is devoid of men? No, most guys from the burbs probably wouldn't drive out there which is why I'm not dating at the moment and will find one out there if I want one. Fuck, with as young as I look I could probably have my pick of frat guys. I'm like that was manipulative implying I should settle for my last chance, and it wasn't subtle or accurate. Do better if you want to con me.

I'm so not interested in men. They continually disappoint me, with one exception who sadly lives too far away for more than occasional sexting and being an exceptional friend.

The ghost can start passing me right on. I can't think of a man I've dated that I feel the urge to test drive again. Thanks but I finally figured out that chasing my mistakes won't undo them and the time I spent is a sunk cost, and trying to recoup sunk costs has never ended well for anyone.

[koishua]

𝐊𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒. will i ever get to finish them this year? who even knows.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒

starring: lee heeseung, female reader, park jeongseong

genre: grumpy-sunshine your honor, heavy heavy angst bc it would not be a koishua heeseung fic without it, sprinkles of fluff and humor between friends.

synopsis: lee heeseung had been twelve years old when he’d felt the worst pain in his life, a wrist snapping back as it came into contact with the rough surface of the playground after a fall from the swing. the world had seemed smaller when he’d swung back and forth on the seat, soaring above the horizontal pole the chains had been securely attached to. the adrenaline rushing through his lanky body had been immense, urging his feet to push him higher and higher until he could feel the sky with his outstretched fingertips.

he’d overdone it and the swing had snapped him back, sending him flying off the narrow plank he’d been sitting on. the trip to the hospital had been far too prolonged in his state of agony, tears constantly running down his chin as he had tried his best not to move his arm with the broken wrist despite the jostling vehicle.

that had been his first trip to the local hospital and coupled with the events that had led him there in the first place, he’d developed a distaste for the facility. funny, considering the fact that the ride from the city to the large building would become some of the most familiar paths to him from that moment onwards.

𝐖𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋

starring: park sunghoon, female reader.

genre: idol!au, exes-to-lovers did you see that coming.

synopsis: love had been beautiful back then. love had been easy, carefree, and heart-fluttering even at the mere thought of the four-lettered word itself. love, for you, is no longer something you find joy in. it had been that way ever since the day you’d turned eighteen; naive and wearing your heart on your sleeve for anyone to come and break it. sunghoon had taken the liberty to do just that, however unknowingly and unintentionally he may have done it.

you were fifteen when you’d first fallen in love with your childhood friend, seventeen when you’d called him your boyfriend, and eighteen when you lost him to life. broken apart by circumstances and necessity, everything you’d built up with him had fallen apart overnight. by the time the dawn of your nineteenth birthday had arrived, you’d no longer have the name park sunghoon present in your everyday life, only contained dearly in your memories and a journal, his name scribbled mindlessly on each and every corner of the aged pages.

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄

starring: choi beomgyu, female reader.

genre: teenage sweethearts turned bitter im sorry my babies, angst, romance bc teen beomgyu has more cute game than i ever will, maybe exes-to-lovers but they never really became exes.

synopsis: three years ago, choi beomgyu had stuck a hundred little stars on your ceiling using a wobbly ladder that could barely support your cat’s weight, let alone his. he’d said that they would glow in the dark— all hundred of them— so that you would not feel lonely. true to his words, they had glowed (for over a thousand nights) and you would stare at your ceiling full of stars for hours and hours on end, though the hollowness in your heart would remain. a million of those plastic stars wouldn’t have been enough for you to not wear his name on your lips to yourself every night like a lullaby.

beomgyu had given you a bouquet of red roses four years ago and you’d put them up to dry, so that you’d still have them with you for a long while. they now sit in a dry vase on your desk, the petals now a deep maroon and the stem having lost all saturation. it had no life, but it was still there with you. beomgyu never called (not even once) after he had left you.

on february fourteenth, exactly five years ago, he’d gifted you a small magnolia tree he’d named after you. he’d said that he would love you for as long as the sapling you’d planted together would live. he’d even said that he would watch as it grew bigger and older with both of you taking care of it. 

“in about ten years, this will the prettiest one in town.”

you’d believed him.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃

starring: lee taeyong, female character (kang jinah), kim doyoung.

genre: comedy i swear to you the more i think about this fic the more i bust a lung, fluff, angst bc obviously i had to it's a cupid au duh, you will either love me or hate me for the ending i planned.

synopsis: desperate to have his feelings of two years reciprocated, he finds a leather-bound book falling by his feet in the old campus library containing a guide on how to summon the very real and very quirky god of love and desire, cupid. in his next life, taeyong would come to write a book on why you should read holy contracts thoroughly before signing your name off in blood.

[exnihilo-etc]

im packing to move soon and i thought as long as im packing i could show off my bookshelf, one row at a time, starting with the bottom: graphic novels, comics, and puzzle books

most of ex nihilo i still have in its original physical form. im not too sentimental for it, but it is hard to throw it away. if theres literally anything ive drawn that you want, just lmk and ill ship it to you 👀

my old notebook

i fucking LOVE this graphic novel. i found it at a thrift shop, signed by the author, which probably means whoever this belonged to was a kickstarter backer for the project. it tells the story of a young artist and his wife being revisited by an old friend just released from prison. a story about drug use, lost friendships, and how your own memory can lie to you, and by extension, lie to your loved ones. maybe the very last line of the novel inspired the name of my comic?

seconds is an amazing graphic novel by bryan lee o'malley, who might be better known for creating scott pilgrim. this is a contemporary fairy tale of the disastrous consequences you might face if you could literally undo anything that might happen to you during the day, and how katie, a restaurant manager learns to abuse that power to send her own world crashing down around her. find it, i know its for free online somewhere but if you buy it thats even better!!

moon moth started as a short story by jack vance (who in his own right created rules for an internal magic system within his stories now called "vancian magic") about a sci fi murder mystery on a utopian planet called Sirene, a planet so accustomed to luxury that crafting and artistic expression are the sole pastime. everyone always wears a mask on sirene, and the social order is complex to learn and navigate...all communication is done through musical accompaniment as well. how will ambassador edward thissel know who is friend or foe??

i havent read 'everything is teeth' yet

a graphic novelisation of one episode of angel where a tv station is sucking souls out of kids and angel becomes a felt puppet

a great graphic novel going over the history of anti scientific conspiracies, like why ppl think the moon landing was fake, homeopathy, the quack history of chiropractics, anti vax, global warming denial, evolution misunderstandings, and fracking

what the hell?

a collection of wondermark, which i would classify as having the old found artstyle of married to the sea, plus the zany writing of oglaf. its a webcomic, look fer it!

part graphic, part novel. the fog mound explores a world of talking animals where humanity's existence is rumored as a legend. but thelonious chipmunk has proof: an old postcard with a human city on it. when thelonious accidentally gets lost and finds himself in the very city on his postcard, he has to wonder...where did the humans go? are there any left?

i met jeremy at an expo a few years ago and regularly visit him every year now whenever hes at a showcase or expo. putting watercolor illustrations to music, writing little creepy poems, fan art of all kinds of franchises, i just really vibe with his artwork.

like isnt she just gorgeous???

issues 3-6 of kingdom of loathing bc ill always be such a die hard fan of the loathing games, especially the stick figure mmo that started it all

[harpyhare]

❤️ - osdd-1b

🧡 - no but when were moved out we plan to get one!

💛 - uhhhh no clue, i know over 70 though, havent counted in a long while

💚 - fairly low

💙 - switch frequently between one or two spots

💜 - absolutely, most being genshin impact but were slowly getting more scp foundation intros

🩷 - yes, just one that goes by the necro subsys

🎥 - me, talloran, alexis, kondraki, and ajax, however 035s been here lately so maybe them

📼 - yes, aquatic creature based (octolings and inklings)

🎞️ - both i think?

📽️ - more

📺 - absolutely!!

🎙️ - oh for sure, one person could love super loud chaotic music and the other could like classical stuff and the two will fight over who gets to listen to music

📻 - lots of familial ones and a couple of romantic ones that usually also are poly relationships with the third being in a different sys (im one of them)

☀️ - not too much, usually itll be regarding little things we did like what we said or where we set something

🌙 - only once a couple years ago

⚡️ - its either we dont notice it or we get a huge wave of exhaustion/tiredness that goes as soon as it came

☄️ - since we dont notice it too much id say quick?

🌈 - i kinda have to be here all the time, so im not sure lol

☁️ - we can usually tell if someone else has main front from their mannerisms (ex. when 035 has main, our voice is very soft compared to a majority of the rest of us)

💦 - its situation based

🌱 - yes!! a lot of people have houses that arent exactly cottages but look like them, but some of us live in the small city area thats in the center (the aforementioned houses are on the outskirts) in rlly nice apartments. theres a river that runs by the city that feeds into the lake where theres platforms that our splatoon intros hang out at and have mini turf wars, the lake itself is where people like fremi hang out. theres a playground the littles/middles usually go to while caretakers watch over them (and sometimes spar cough cough michael and oscar). theres a big patch of woods where persecutors go with a big house in the clearing where they live, theres a few notable buildings too but i dont wanna make this super long :( right now tho the architects are building an area in the woods for all us scp intros thats similar to site 19 but without the whole containing stuff for the most part so we feel more at home kinda and hang out

🌿 - you cant see it from the front room, but theres two doors basically where once you open the small one theres a mini hallway with a staircase down tp the iw which itself is behind a big door with gatekeepers there n stuff if that makes sense

☘️ - yeah, think of white space from omori, its smth like that

🌳 - most do but some who are closer to others are roommates or if theres partners then they have their own place together

🌵 - big for sure, not positive abt complex tho

🍃 - no unless theyre hosting (me atm), afterwards tho they can leave

🪴 - im personally not sure, i assume built though with the current projects going on

🍭 - really long story, tldr needed a new one bc of ex friends being dropped, saw noctivagant and thought it was cool

🍪 - we only recently decided on kori, were collectively transmasc for a few reasons, like our first host connor being transmasc and theres a lot more masc presenting people here.

🍬 - fuck uhh "LOVE IS YOUR DOCTOR BOYFRIEND CUTTING YOUR UTERUS OUT OF YOU AND IM NOT FEELING THE FUCKING LOVE"

🍫 - get the soothers involved or protectors if its serious

🧁 - alana and folly

🍰 - yes!! all our online friends know but only one irl now

🍦 - fairly good id say!! it varies a little bit but usually because they might be mute

🍡 - yes!! we have some people who are into scene, some are into goth stuff and its own subcultures, one little is super into dreamcore and clowncore stuff, ect

system ask game for traumagenic systems!

reposted due to us deleting our previous sysblog <3

remember that you are free to decline any question if it feels too invasive, this is for fun and you are not forced to answer anything 🤍

I: basics

❤️ - what type of CDD do you have?

🧡 - are you medically recognised/diagnosed? if not, do you plan to? (no judgement either way!)

💛 - if you are comfortable sharing, what is your headcount? do you keep track of it?

💚 - do you have a high or low split tolerance?

💙 - do you switch frequently or do you go longer periods between switching?

💜 - does your system have introjects of any kind?

🩷 - do you have any subsystems?

II: alters

🎥 - who are your frequent fronters?

📼 - do you have any non-human alters? if yes, which species are the majority of them?

🎞️ - do the alters in your system use more medical coined roles or more community coined roles? or both/neither? do you find them useful?

📽️ - are the alters in your system more distinct or less distinct from each other?

📺 - do you make/buy gifts to other alters in the systems?

🎙️ - does the taste in music vary a lot between different alters?

📻 - does your system have any type of in system relationships? (familial, romantic, platonic etc.)

III: switching

☀️ - how much amnesia do you experience?

🌙 - do you experience black out amnesia?

⚡️ - what does switching feel like for you? does it vary between alters?

☄️ - do you experience quick switches or does it take longer to switch usually?

🌈 - do you get frontstuck often? what do you do to try to get ‘un-stuck’?

☁️ - do you ever not notice you’ve switched, and suddenly realise that ‘you haven’t been you’ for a while?

💦 - can you switch ‘on command’ or is that something that is hard for your system? does it depend on the alter?

IV: headspace

🌱 - do you have a headspace? if yes, describe it! if no, do you want one?

🌿 - how easily accessed is your headspace?

☘️ - is there a place in your headspace where dormant alters go?

🌳 - do alters have their own rooms/areas in your headspace?

🌵 - is your headspace big, or smaller? is it complex/less complex?

🍃 - do you have specific alters that cannot access headspace at all?

🪴 - did you have to build your headspace over time, or was it just there?

V: general

🍭 - how did you pick your system name?

🍪 - do you have a collective name/identity/orientation? if yes, how did your system make those decisions?

🍬 - what’s the funniest thing another alter has said to you? (internally or externally communicated)

🍫 - how does your system handle in system disagreements in general?

🧁 - is there anyone specific in your system you don’t get along with?

🍰 - are you ‘out’ as a system to anyone? (online friends/partners etc. count!)

🍦 - how good is your communication with the rest of the system? does it vary much between different alters?

🍡 - are different alters part of different subcultures? which ones? (we are!)

[sadshitonmain]

DICEY I S DRUNK

Needdd to write my note before i ctb in a week ish so

Fuck u mom how dare you fucking give up on me. Picking new family and popping out kids like a goddamn pez dispenzer instead of like faking interest in shit i actully enjoy for five mins.

Same goes for dad but extra FUCK you for never visiting when you had the chance and extra extra fuck you for getting sick and losing what little ego you had left so you dont even recognize me anymore. Asshole move.

FUCK YOU EMILY GOD FUCK I LOVED YOU AND I ONLY FUCKING LEFT BC I KNEW I COULDNT STAY AWAY IF YOU EVER CALLED BACK AND IM STILL WAITING FOR IT 6 GODDAMN YEARS LATER. Im sorry too. I wish I'd had the help i needed before we tried to run away. I wish my wife coulda seen me at my best instead of my worst and ill never stop dreaming of a world where at least you're happy -even if itsone without me, Bc as far as i know you're probably dead and its all my fault. It never got better for me but at least im in control and hot now.

I'm sorry Sebastian. JP and FL and Kitsu. For my own good i shoulda stayed out of it. But at least i tried unlike you idiots. At least you had only one dead kid that year, if not for me there'd be two so fuck you. I just wanted to do some good for all my fuckups and i couldnt stand the idwa of another dead qu*er child. I miss you all, I hope missing me eats you alive.

To my new friends.

Skye, plz dont beat urself up over this one,.its my choice. Im not the same as her and you couldnt chamge anything, you just got caught in the crossfire.

Maddy, be smart be safe be yourself. Fuck someone and chase that femboy.

Thylia.. fuck you're the first real person ive met in a decade. I wish id met you sooner. Be strong.

Pip. Make a goddamn choice girl. Either be yourself or play it safe and be miserable. This life is hell and i wouldnt wish it on anyone. You still have a future, just be smart about it. Finish college, chase your passions. Transition quietly, practice looking how you want and move far the fuck away when its safe. Everyone goes through an ugly phase and thats fine. And seriously SERIOUSLY, just chill the fuck out and go with the flow.

No one else is worth mentioning. You all betrayed me. You all said id be nothing but a burnt out worthless fag and then you made that reality not me. I hate you all for it. Hopefully these bottles do me in.

Emi.. Alex.. whatever you go by now, howdy stranger. I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry my ideas abt love and passion and loyalty were so fucked up.. it really was how i was raised and it still really was my fault. There isnt a day that goes by i dont wonder what would have happened had i stuck around for a few more days and let us both cool off. I was completely obsessed and jealous and who could really blame me, I clung to that stupid dream for dear fucking life for years and when i finally had the chance the world literally came crashing down around us. If not for covid, if not for SPDs fucking power trip, if not for how i was raised if not for how broken i was if I had just listened to you and respected you fuck our dream could have come true. I love you. I'll never love anyone else, I've always loved you since the day you were quietly introduced and sat in Mr. Baker's class across the room all those years ago. I knew then and I know now 14 years later that you were always my better half.

I hope eternity is real, I hope I suffer for it. This shitty trailer has been my exile for 4 years and in a week it will be my tomb.

In truth if id had any courage at all id have ended it a long time ago, but im a total goddamn coward even piss drunk on a work night. Im still praying you'll save me but i know it wont happen, it cant happen. I'll never change, I'll always be the crazy ex, always be another person that abused your trust and chased you across the city we were supposed to grow old in. I hate everything i was, and everything i had to be to survive and everything i am now. I don't blame you, i don't even hate you.

You were always right.

I still love you.

Dicey,

(Formerly Lusy, formerly Lyrah)

Fuck you all, i give up

[specklesofdust]

6-22-2023

on 6/17/23, I ran into Reggie at Cobra and completely ignored him like the demon of despair that he is and he then proceeded to get his friend to try and follow me outside of the bar and i was able to bypass his spy and get away from them to another bar across the street before they could see me and then my roomie ashley texted me at like 4:23am that morning stating that Reggie showed up at our door pounding on it psychotic and drunk demanding to see me and when she told him i wasn’t there he started yelling fuck you bitches i do whatever i want! and he walked across the street continuing to scream.... i have blocked him on everything except email and gave him a verbal warning that if he were to ever be anywhere near my place of residence again that i was going to call the cops so i really fucking hope that never happens again. I feel terrible that he scared ashley like that and i know she is now more than ready to have me move out which i am totally cool with bc i am fucking tired of paying now $1125 a month to live in a house that smells like cat shit all the time... i love her and appreciate her hospitality but naw i am over that cost of living for that kind of climate. I had a long talk with Gator after all of that happened and after his psycho ex gf called me and told me he had just been hanging out with her for the last several days that i called him with him not answering and she relayed that he has been lying to her and she saw my number on his phone when he was asleep and decided to call me and see who i was and had tons and tons of very personal questions about me and gators relationship. once he called me back finally he and i met in person and i told him what she had said and he called me out for hanging out with reggie and him at the same time and told me that he could smell reggie on me and he still let me into his house because he loves me and is tired of me giving my time to reggie who doesn’t give a fuck about me obviously and that i deserve more than what i have been experiencing and he came forward about his ex lauren and him hanging out recently and we both agreed that we would see each other exclusively and plan on moving in together now and potentially starting a family. he gave me the keys to his place and said i can stay there since it is a safer place for me right now since reggie doesn’t know where that is but then again jen knows where gator lives from a couple of months ago when she and i were still friends and she came over to hang with us one day. I have never been so close to hating another human being as i do with jen and reggie right now but i am  going to have to not let these reactive rages ruin my optimism... they are both evil and always will be evil and will never change and i need to just accept the fact that misery loves company and shun them from any synapse that i have. it will take time but it has already nearly been a week since that bullshit happened and i am doing markedly better already. i just don’t know if living in this city any more will be beneficial to my betterment tbh...

I felt a lot of comfort about the new plan with gator for the last couple of days when he was in town but then he left on tour for PCB this afternoon and will be gone for like 4 days and then he gets back into town for like 1 night and then he will leave again on another tour for another week after that... idk what to do man... the promises he makes and the way he tells me he loves me and supports me and wants to be with me and me only are very beautiful but when he promises me he won’t leave me, he is then literally gone for days and weeks at a time? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh what am i doing with my life?|!

my supervisors just gave me another written warning about my attendance and i literally cannot be late or call out at all anymore or else i am fired... i am tired of working here on night shifts and i really just want to get another job where i can work in the daytime and have better pay and better support but why would i get another job in this forsaken city of sadness again when i could be looking for other options elsewhere? 

Idk what to do man...i guess i am just going to keep working here until i can formulate a better plan and i will see what happens with gator within this next month. i feel a lot of great things with him and i really love how much he loves me and how kind and forgiving and unconditionally supportive he has been with me even when i have been an evident slut in front of his face, but he has also been exposed with his sketchy ways and is a fucking touring musician who is in town maybe like 38%-72% of the time max and i will require way more presence from a partner in the future forreal, especially if we actually do get serious about starting a family because i will be damned if i am pregnant and alone in a city that i have grown to despise.. the shit isn’t very assuring right now in my soul...

i am going to auburn this weekend for tess and joshes engagement party and this will be the first time i have been back to my hometown in over a year i think. I am praying that i gain some clarity while i am there regarding what i should do with my life and it will at least be nice to get the FUCK out of Nashville even if just for a couple of days. 

I feel so alone right now. i don’t feel like i have any real friends here any more and the ones i thought i did have have either become evil entities, snobs, gnarly alcoholics, or fare weather fiends. 

i need to pray and meditate and sleep and exercise and drink water and remember who the fuck i am who i want to be and how i can become that to the best and fullest of my ability. I am tired of being thrown in the crossfire and change needs to happen sooner than later 

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #114

(taken february 16th; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Who was the last person you hugged? Girt.

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? Nah.

Where did your first kiss take place? His bed.

Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Ugh this is such a hard question, but I do tend to think foxes are cuter, and more majestic-looking. However, both animals are fucking amazing.

Do you prefer fruit or vegetables? Fruit, by a longshot.

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex? Yes.

Are you a hypocrite? Literally every single human being you will ever meet has some hypocritical tendencies, but I definitely try to avoid hypocrisy as much as I can; I try to be mindful of whether or not I'm behaving according to my own values that I expect to see in others, too.

What are your favourite textures? Soft things as far as feel goes. In foods, I want to say I generally enjoy softer things too, especially when they have some sort of gentle give to them, like bread products.

Any beauty tips? ... Are you kidding me? *I* could use those.

What is more attractive: Nice hands or nice feet? Hands. I'm not attracted to feet, at all, ever.

What’s the youngest you would consider dating? Ehhhhh maybe like, 23-ish would be my ABSOLUTE minimum, but I'd still prefer older.

Are thongs sexy? They can look attractive on some people, but absolutely not me.

Did you grow up in a healthy environment? No. My dad was an alcoholic and my parents fought all the time. Our neighborhood was dangerous.

What did your last text read? Mom was reminding me of our zip code bc I needed to add it to the resume I'm making. Our city has multiple, and I can never remember it since moving here a few years ago.

What was the last alcoholic beverage you consumed? It was a... Seagram's, I think? It was some sort of daiquiri, I know.

Do you think suits are sexy? YESYES YESYSYEYSEYESYES YE S Y E S on literally any and every gender suits are hOT

What are your parents' views on your relationships? Hell if I know for Dad; we see each other so rarely that it's not like he's gotten to see how almost any s/o I've ever had treated me. I know he likes Girt from when my parents were still together, but that's the extent of it. My mom absolutely loves Girt, although I will say historically she tries to keep negative opinions of my partners kinda quiet; ex. she was never very vocal about Sara, even when she finally met her, but came out very openly that she couldn't stand her later on. She also didn't want Juan and I to date. I feel like even if she has negative thoughts, so long as they're not MAJOR issues, she respects my decisions.

Have you ever babysat before? Like, twice. And the second was against my will.

If your best friend revealed she was a homosexual, what would you do? My best friend is a man and I'd be VERY shocked because he is Extremely Straight like down to his core. I'd also be, you know, devastated because we're dating and intimate and I'm a woman so that'd become a problem, obviously.

Have you ever dreamed about your wedding? Yes.

Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? I did in the cases of Jason and Sara, granted they're the only ones I HAD pictures with, but those needed to be deleted for the sake of my own healing. It wasn't an "oh we broke up so I have to hide these" kind of thing; seeing them was genuinely damaging.

How many celebrity crushes have you had? Three really notable ones, maybe four. Other milder ones.

Is your best friend more likely to be the one suggesting something stupid or refusing to do something stupid? He's the latter, really.

Ever made yourself throw up? I've tried to do so before but it surprisingly didn't work. Or, well... maybe not "surprisingly" with how iron-willed my body is AGAINST allowing myself to vomit.

When’s the last time you spent time with your cousins? It's been years upon years upon years upon years.

What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole.

What was the shortest amount of time you’ve known someone before you’ve dated them? Maybe like... three-ish weeks, perhaps a tiny bit less? That was the case with Jason. We clicked so fucking fast.

Do you have any theatrical experience? If so, what have you done? Nah. Well, do you count dance as theatrical? I did that for years.

Do you have any plans for the weekend? Yeah, it's my niece's birthday party.

Is the last person you kissed mad at you? No, we're doing really really well lately. I mean, it's very seldom we're doing bad so this isn't new, but.

If you had twin girls, what would you name them? Most likely Alessandra and Anneliese.

Do you like to eat eggs? I only eat them scrambled or as an omelette, but in those cases, hell yes. Last week I was actually reminded JUST how incredibly better fresh chicken eggs are from store shit though, and I've been wanting more very badly, haha.

Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Possibly, idr.

What store or website would you most like a gift card for? Maybeeee... Rebel's Market, or Morph Market. Or the Rammstein store, haha.

Name your top three favorite musical instruments. Electric guitar, violin, piano.

What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? It was some early Wings of Fire book. We changed pretty quickly to just ordering from Amazon.

Do you use Pinterest? I do, mostly just for Rammstein pictures these days tho lmfao

Are you wearing earrings? I have a stud in my right tragus and gauges in the first holes of my earlobes right now.

Do you know any sign language? I don't. I remember in elementary school, there was a song in a play that we learned that we both sang and did in sign language, but I remember absolutely none of it.

Do you have a favorite poem? Not really.

Do you like Indian food? Never tried any, that I know of.

Do you have a dog? She's technically my mom's, but yes. She's a chihuahua we basically rescued named Cookie. Neither of us ever wanted a chihuahua, but she just worked for us and honestly she's a perfect match for us.

Do you enjoy going out for breakfast? Yeah, I do.

Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yeah.

Do you like muffins? Dude I LOVE muffins.

You have one match. What would you like to burn? The first letter I wrote Jason. I pray the fuck to god he doesn't still have it (I can't imagine he would), but even it being in the trash isn't enough for me. I want it entirely erased from existence.

What underwater creature scares you the most? Giant squid.

Was there ever a bomb threat at the school you go/went to? Yep, more than one.

What do you feel is the ugliest part of the human body? Genitalia, and I mean any, seriously gross me out visually.

Insert a totally random phrase from another language here: Uhhhh instead of "happy birthday," in German the proper way to wish someone a good birthday is "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag," which literally translates to something like "all the best for your birthday."

Have you ever built a Lego masterpiece? No; I was way more of a Lincoln Logs kid.

Did you ever have to wear a retainer? Yes; I have one of the metal ones adhered to the back of my front bottom teeth, and I'm SUPPOSED to wear one of the plastic ones for my top jaw, but I stopped a very, very long time ago, and my teeth moved so much that I could NEVER wear it now and haven't been able to for many, many years.

Do you have any weird phobias? Whale sharks.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? No. The odds of them happening here are very, very low, and we've (to my knowledge) never had an even moderate one, just tiny ones. One did happen a long time ago where I live that residents felt, but I was hours away so felt nothing. It was incredible though, just how visually everyone at the zoo just fucking stopped en masse at like the same time to pick up their phones, I'm sure from families checking if they were okay and all.

What store in the mall would you never get caught in? Hollister is one, and Abercrombie & Fitch. They're owned by horrible people with absolutely terrible values and disgusting rules.

Are you independent or dependent? I am agonizingly dependent, and it's a problem I've been trying to fix for a long time, but it's extremely hard.

Have you had any candy this week? Too much honestly because of Valentine's Day.

Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? I am astronomically more afraid of tornadoes. I've grown up with hurricanes, so those I really just shrug at unless they're like, maybe category four.

Do you like mushrooms? As food, FUCK no. Visually as cool life forms, hell yes.

What was the last movie you cried at? I don't remember.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? I really don't remember. I'm sure I just spent it with the family and Jason, probably went to Olive Garden to eat dinner.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? No, it was first a baby bunny holding a polka-dotted blanket, then a moose.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Dated me very seriously for over three and a half years and then broke up with me in a fucking Facebook message and did his damnedest to pretend I didn't exist afterward.

When was the last time you went fishing? The last time Sara was here and we went catfishing with my dad, so multiple years ago.

Is there something you’re not looking forward to? Yes, I have my first gynecologist appointment this upcoming week and I'm absofuckinglutely dreading it because I am fully aware I'm going to have a panic attack and cry and just be extremely difficult. It's not a "probably" sort of thing, it is GOING to happen.

How many shirts do you have of your favorite band? I have... two Ozzy ones maybe, and surprisingly no Rammstein ones even though I want some.

How many Williams do you know? One off the top of my head, maybe more. I also had a recurring art teacher named Mrs. Williams.

How do you want your wedding to be? Gothic-themed, hopefully with a black and gold color scheme, and take place in autumn. I refuse to have a pastor officiate my wedding, but some other official. I'd love for the venue to be some sort of building with heavy gothic architecture and decor, but I know that is incredibly unlikely.

What’s one word you hate to be called? Don't you fucking DARE call me weak. You will be entirely kicked out of my life so fucking fast, and aggressively, with ZERO fucking shame.

[under-and-over-the-moon]

Debt II | Jisung

*Please read Part I first for context *

Minors DNI/DNF/Do not read!

pairing: Reader x Jisung

word count: 6.7k

genre: friends-to-lovers (but briefly enemies-to-friends in this chapter), fake marriage!au, canal city!au, slowburn, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

warnings: flashbacks, reader’s ex is toxic, manipulation and gaslighting (not by Jisung, don’t worry), mentions of birth control, past Jisung is even more awkward, social anxiety, classism/discrimation

A/N: I was going to have some sparser flashbacks thrown in to explain how they got to where they are, but I felt like it didn’t give sufficient time for things to build, so I’m trying a new format - splitting the chapters between ones set in the present w/ Jisung’s POV, and ones in the past w/ Reader’s POV (also had to repost this bc tumblr somehow ate half my tags and won’t re-pick them up)

All characters are adults.

~~~

[One year ago]

The paint needed touching up.

From your perch on the couch, you saw the way it peeled beneath the windowsill, the leaking water having pulled it from the concrete beneath in curling sheets. Early winter was always rainy, and you had found shortly after moving in that the windows were not weatherproof – any time it rained for more than an hour, you would start to hear the water drip onto the floor, your stomach always dropping with it.

You would call the landlord again in the morning. Not that he would actually respond, but you had to try.

“Babe!!”

You turned towards the voice, and saw your boyfriend ducking through the front door, moving his head away from where the metal of the doorframe hung jagged, a perpetual threat of casual maiming that neither you nor any of your roommates even thought about anymore. Another request to your landlord, lost to the ether.

Your boyfriend stepped forward, backlit by the teetering gray light of rainclouds in retreat, until he was in the glow of your reading light. His eyes were bright, news heavy on his tongue.

“I got an invite from one of my buddies at the work gym, friend of a friend, you know how it goes…”

He smiled wider, clearly more towards himself than you. He had been going to the gym fairly regularly since he found he had more influence there than anywhere else – even though he was born no higher than you, the government officials who also attended seemed to see some burly, youthful ideal of an underdog in him, the body he was born into allowing him a measure of favor that his family situation didn’t. He had been collecting acquaintances there, and returning to you with stories of his quiet triumphs for months.

“..for a holiday party at one of the senior officials’. Go get dressed,” he continued, brushing raindrops from his coat, “We have to leave in 5.”

“We?” you countered.

“Of course we. Don’t you want to go? It’s a great networking opportunity.”

You sighed, sitting in the uncomfortable tension between should and want. Your week had been long and stressful, and you were looking forward to a quiet night in, listening to the rain, away from the daily jostling and grinding you were forced to do to reinforce your place. And you heard his point but…a party like this would be exactly the kind of place you would be the least wanted, the least comfortable.

Even though you had been working in the housing office for a few years and were widely acknowledged as being a hard and efficient worker, you never expected any sort of a invite during this time of the year. You heard whispers about holiday parties near the coffee machines and sometimes would see women putting on eyeliner and velvet dresses at the end of the day in the office bathrooms before heading off to some riverhouse across town, but you mostly ignored it. Parties like that were for a certain circle, and you were definitely outside the lines.

That had been, in fact, the first thing that had bound you to your boyfriend – he worked in the budgeting office, and he, like you, was born to a worker family far outside the towns center, where sun-parched grasses drowned in the waters of crumbling canals, the floors of your house in a perpetual state of drying-from-floods. Like you, he had worked himself to the bone during school so that he even had a chance to interview his current job - even though it was just an entry level position, people like you rarely made it to any post in the government. So you had thought that he would be an oasis in the daily grind of performance, of hustling to prove that you belonged.

Sometimes you were just so tired of the striving that the exhaustion sat itself behind your eyes, wrapping itself around your head in a pounding headache.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“I uh,” you said, breaking your boyfriend’s expectant daze, “Was kind of thinking of just staying in tonight. It’s been a long week, I’m pretty tired.”

Your boyfriend’s expression immediately fell, his eyes taking on a glint of gray from the rainclouds outside out window.

“Why do you never want to do anything,” he retorted, eyebrows knit together, “It’s a party. And a nice one. You’re lucky you even get to go.”

You’re lucky because of me, he meant.

“I don’t get why you don’t network more,” he continued, eyebrows pulled taught, “You’re never going to get to be a higher level official at this rate, especially with your background. And I’m giving you an opportunity to combat that on a silver platter and you won’t even go?”

You broke his gaze an took a long, deep breathe, that familiar feeling of being cornered returning to your bones. He must be right. You were being ungrateful, lazy, to not accept his invitation.

So, swallowing back your stomach, you whispered a faint, “Okay, I’ll get ready,” your cheeks reddening from the cold and the shame he had drawn out of you, like blood from a wound he himself had cut into your skin.

~~~

The party was held in an appropriately swanky red riverhouse, the owner’s boat tethered boastfully along the riverfront. The interior had been decked out in décor that was simultaneously overwhelming and restrained – endless evergreen garlands, golden candlesticks, extensive spreads of the finest cheeses and wines on artisanal oak tables, expensive in their curated ruggedness. There was little joy in it, but there was power, and therefore, wonder.

Your boyfriend flitted between groups of people in a rising line of importance, and in the candlelight you saw the garishness in his exaggerated expressions, the slightly-too-harsh tone of his laugh. For better or for worse, you were mostly left alone – people at this kind of party knew who came from where, and the exception they had so graciously bestowed on your boyfriend didn’t extend to you. There was an empty, polite question here and there, but eyes rarely fell on you. You still smiled along, trying your best to participate in the conversation, biding your time until you could leave.

And then suddenly there was a cold gust of wind as the door opened, and a young man walked in, short and slight of build. His eyes darted across the room, and then he walked over to you and your boyfriend, and said simply, his eyes technically looking at you but not quite, “Hi, I’m Jisung.”

And so you introduced yourself and your boyfriend, before the young man turned away, without a second glance, staring flatly at the group in front of you.

He stood there for a while, watching as people talked without participating. But you saws the eyes of the men in front of you flit to him every few seconds, not with the confusion or mockery you would expect, but some sort of recognition. Quiet, restrained. Almost reverent.

And then, half-way through a conversation, a sentence still only half formed on the tongue of the elderly official in front of you, the young man turned to the food spread without a word, extending his hand out towards a cracker before withdrawing it. He then turned on his heel, and headed straight for the door.

“That was odd,” you whispered to your boyfriend.

“Yeah…super weird dude,” he muttered, not breaking eye contact from the man in front of you to respond.

And for the rest of the evening, you didn’t think once about him. He was just a passing wind, you thought, an odd chill that had swept through your life for a few moments, leaving no trace. Like so many of the buzzing voices around you, or your own existence to those with whom you spoke at the party.

~~~

At around 3 am you finally found yourself descending the concrete steps into your basement apartment, the dampness in the air clinging to your skin, the chill allowing it to sink into your bones. You ducked under the jagged metal that once again welcomed you home, entering your now pitch-back apartment. Your roommates were already asleep.

You tip-toed down the hall, trying to keep the old creaky floorboards as quiet as possible, past four doors. Those four bedrooms housed seven people in total, and with you and your boyfriend in the bedroom at the end of the hall, the apartment felt always too small, never quite comfortable. You perpetually felt like you were disturbing someone. But the rent was low split nine ways, and you did your best to bring some happiness into the space – picture frames with your family, quilted pillows from your mom, a few random knick-knacks from a store you had found under a market downtown.

You gently pushed your bedroom dorm open, closing it behind your boyfriend before rummaging through your drawers. The room was only filled by faint blue moonlight, flickering slightly as the rain fell against your small, high window, but you didn’t need to see – you knew the fabric of your nightgown by touch, the linen cool against your palm. You quickly stripped yourself of your party clothes, relieved as you slipped the light fabric over your head, and then yourself between the sheets of your bed.

Your headache from earlier had sunk so deep beneath your skull that nothing but sleep could erase it. You were relieved that you finally got a moment of quiet, of peace, to rest in the darkness with nothing you were obliged to do.

And then you felt a hand snake over your shoulder, and the whisper of a “Baby…”

You knew the term was reserved for requests, not endearment.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes together.

“Not tonight,” you responded, “I’m really too tired.”

And then you felt his hand slip from your shoulder and the dip of the mattress as he turned onto his back.

“Fine,” he muttered, the frustration thick in his voice, “I’m tired too, probably wouldn’t even feel that good with the condom and all….”

What had been a gentle inhale caught in your throat, your shoulders immediately tensing. You had been through this before, explained the situation to him, but it had always been like banging your hands against the wall, hoping it would move. You know you would only hurt your own fists.

So you let our your exhale - slow, unsteady – but decided to remain silent. With your eyes closed and in the silence you had chosen to create, you could almost pretend that you were alone.

~~~

When you arrived at work the following Monday, you were immediately flagged down by Seungmin.

He had started working in the same office only a month or so before you, and while he mostly stayed to himself, consumed in his own work, there was one thing that could draw him out of his bubble to slide over to your desk.

Gossip.

“Hey…” he murmured, scooting backwards from his desk so that he was in whispering range. You unwrapped your scarf from your neck, draping it on the back of your chair, eyebrow raised.

“Did you hear?” he whispered.

There was no one else in the office yet – no one else came in this early – but his eyes still darting at the door, carefully watching if anyone was entering.

The gossip must be good.

“Someone new is joining the team,” he said, “A new grad.”

“Oh? Who?” you responded, settling yourself down into your chair and turning towards him.

“I didn’t meet him,” he answered, “But his name is Jisung.”

The name sprung something in your brain, but in your sleepy morning fog, you were having a hard time pinpointing exactly why the name registered. And so you repeated it silently in your head, over and over until -

An imagine of the short man at the party popped into your head.

Oh no.

“I think he’s a Han,” continued Seungmin, unaware of your recognition, his voice growing even quieter as his eyes widened.

“A Han?” you asked. Having only moved to the city a few years ago, you didn’t know family names past the ones of those you worked with directly, or those of your roommates.

“Of the Hans,” he responded, as if that was a full explanation.

At your confused expression, he leaned in, eyebrows shooting up.

“You don’t know the Hans??” he whispered again, but with so much force it might have well been a shout, “They’re like…super old money. Came here at like the dawn of time to trade, controlled the canal construction in the city? Their patriarch was chancellor a few decades ago, and their hands go deep in pretty much every part of the government. Pockets even deeper.”

He scooted a little bit forward, the corners of his mouth rising as he thought of his next tidbit to share.

“I think Jisung’s older sister married a billionaire from the southern capital a few years ago,” he continued, “Wedding was insane. At least from the pictures, I wasn’t invited.”

His enthusiasm was shattered briefly by a look of frustration – although Seungmin’s family was not of the worker class, you had learned after moving to the city that there was a strict hierarchy within the upper class itself. Seungmin’s family occupied the lowers rungs.

Those whose ancestors held the top posts during the canal construction were highest, nearly untouchable, but there was a whole array of others who hadn’t technically labored on the canals, yet still didn’t truly call the shots. These included the more minor officials, a smattering of high-ranking merchants who had organized the supply of raw materials, and construction managers. Their descendants had the privilege of navigating society with relative ease, but their didn’t wield enough influence to be invited to be invited to the exclusive, opulent parties of families like the Hans.

But Seungmin regained his composure, buoyed by his sparkly news, the freedom with which he got to opine in the empty space. He lowered his voice, and looked pointedly at you.

“Bet he’ll be a peach to work with,” he muttered, eyes dancing around the room to make sure no one else had arrived, “So you might want to buckle up, get ready to take on some extra work.”

Your stomach immediately dropped, the space it left behind immediately filled by a bubbling, burning anger. You were already coming to work early and leaving after anyone else – what you did not need was to take on the work of some lazy, entitled heir.

And, on a personal note, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually have to spend the whole day with Jisung. You had only spend a few minutes with him at that party, and it was painfully awkward. You remembered then how the older officials had looked at him, and it now made sense – he was probably one of those people that never had to learn how to integrate themselves in conversation. The world adjusted conversation to them.

You reached to your temples, a stress headache already forming.

“When does he get here?” you asked, trying to keep the obvious bitterness out of your voice.

“Tomorrow,” Seungmin responded, just as another coworker strode through the door, cutting your conversation short.

~~~

As Seungmin predicted, Jisung arrived at 9 am the next day.

You watched as your coworkers greeted him, biting the inside of your lip to hold back your frustration as they grasped his hands with eagerness, eyes locked on him with an attention they certainly hadn’t given you on your first day.

After a few minutes, you stepped forward too, offering your hand. He only looked at you blankly, as if he had never once laid eyes on you, never spent a half-hour standing next to you.

Of course he didn’t remember you. Or just wouldn’t acknowledge you. Silly to think he would.

So you reintroduced yourself as quickly as you could, exchanged the minimum number of pleasantries necessary and quickly got back to work. If you were going to have to take on his work as well, you didn’t have time to waste giving him any more attention. He certainly didn’t need it.

So you turned on your heel, returning to your desk, sliding the first set of documents from your to-do pile as you uncapped your pen.

~~~

As the day progressed, you found at one unexpected benefit of Jisung’s presence.

For the whole rest of the workday, your coworkers flocked around him like hyenas, asking if he needed anything, trying to entice him with witty anecdotes, stories of interactions they had had with various members of his family. Even high officials from other offices came to greet him, to welcome him heartily to his government post.

The ceaseless attention continued to irritate you, but with all eyes on Jisung, you were at least left alone to work in peace. No one came over to you to ask you to pick up some random task, to run an errand, to get coffee. So even with your bitterness nibbling quietly at your core, you were eventually able to tune it out, so that the whole world was just you, your desk, your work. It was blissfully productive, and then –

“I…is there something I can help you with?”

Startled, you spun in your chair to see Jisung standing behind you, his hands clasped together.

“Why are you still here?” you snapped before you could control your tone, and you saw something that looked strangely like hurt flit across his eyes. He stepped back slightly.

“I – sorry,” you said, softening your voice, “I just – it’s already 8pm, so I guess I’m just…confused why you’re still here. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“I…don’t,” he said. Almost as if he were embarrassed.

Your boyfriend had been right…Jisung was a weird dude. You couldn’t understand what he was doing, why he was here, why he was offering to help you. He had already ignored you twice – why was he acknowledging you now, when you finally were getting work done?

“You don’t have to help me,” you said firmly, “You can go home.”

“I…” he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t say that I recognized you earlier. Because I did.”

He swallowed hard, continuing, “You were at that party, right? At the red riverhouse?”

You nodded slowly, and at your affirmation, the words began tumbling from his mouth, all smushed together.

“I’msosorry. I was thinking about it all day, how I must’ve made a bad impression today. I don’t want you to think I forgot, or that you weren’t memorable, but I got nervous that you would think I found you too memorable, like I had just been thinking about you since we met, because that would be creepy. I promise I just remember you a normal amount but I got kind of overwhelmed and froze up and then I just didn’t –“

“Jisung, stop,” you said, holding up your hand, “You don’t have to apologize.”

If you had given yourself one extra second to think it through your next statement, you would have stopped yourself, said something neutral and pleasant. But something suddenly clicked in you – maybe just the exhaustion of day, or the simmering resentment with roots that had been growing your whole life – regardless, quite past your own control, you found yourself suddenly unable to say anything but the truth.

“Look,” you said, voice firm, “I don’t know who you talked to, or how much you know about this office, but you don’t need to worry about getting into my good books. I’m an entry level worker, just here to do this job the best I can, so I can feed myself, house myself, and send money to my family in the countryside to repair our home from flood for like the seventeenth time.”

He likely already knew based on the way he had interacted with you at the party, but this would surely make it clear who you were - only the worker class lived in the countryside, had to bail out their houses from floods, again and again.

“So you don’t need to bother with trying to charm me,” you continued, “It won’t matter for your career.”

And then, the boiling anger that had lodged itself in you ever since Seungmin’s announcement a day earlier bubbled over, the most bitter corner of your honesty hitting the air.

“And it’s not like you made any kind of effort at the party with me,” you said, “So why start now that we’re coworkers?”

Jisung stared at you wide-eyed for a moment, stunned, and the quiet suddenly clanged with your own panic.

How could you be so stupid? Impulsive? He was a Han. He could destroy your tenuous position like that if he wanted, all your hard work to be washed away in the winter rains.

And then he spoke, slowly, quietly, like a confession. Not making eye contact.

“I’m…sorry for that too,” he said, “That was…I didn’t mean…It’s my own problem I –“

He looked up briefly to make eye contact with you, and it looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else, to be talking about anything else. But there was something desperately earnest in him, forcing it out.

“I’m not…good with people,” he continued, “I try to come up with the right the thing to say and you see what happens, it gets all twisted and weird, so then sometimes I just kind of freeze, and can’t say anything at all. People will humor me, be nice to me because of my family, but this…it doesn’t come easily to me.”

He took another deep breathe, sighing heavily.

“But I’ve been…trying to get more practice, maybe get better at it, so I went to that party but I got so overwhelmed and nervous that then I just left – which of course, you saw. So, I’m sorry about that too. And today. And for now, also.”

You paused for a moment, trying to process, a tight wad of guilt budding in your chest.

“You just seemed nice at the party. And you were still nice, even though you clearly didn’t…know me.”

His implication was clear. Know my family.

“So I was waiting for a moment when there were fewer people today so I would be less likely to mess up to talk to you. I was just hoping I could get to know you a little better, maybe? Make amends for earlier?…But I totally get that you’re just here to work, I didn’t mean to disturb you more by coming over here. Sorry again.”

And with that he gave you a weak smile, and said “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

And then the guilt fully bloomed, crowding into your heart, your lungs. He was just a kid, and this was his first day of work and he clearly had been so nervous and you had been so mean to him when he hadn’t actually done anything to you. You had constructed a whole persona for him based on a few flimsy facts, and a mountain of assumptions. You never even gave him a chance.

“Jisung, wait!” you called after him, and he slowly turned, eyes on the edge between apprehension and hope, “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me. I just…I thought you didn’t think I was worth your time, which you clearly don’t. It’s just that I’m used to that kind of thing and with your…”

You waved your hands in his general direction, and he nodded slightly so that you knew he understood the meaning of your wild gesticulation.

“A lot of people act like I’m not worth their time once they know…more about me. To think you came over because you thought I was so nice…”

You shook your head at yourself.

“Can I treat you to lunch tomorrow? To apologize? Maybe have second chance for both of us, start over?”

His face lit up, his smile uncontained.

“Oh it’s okay! You don’t have to treat!” he responded, “But I would love to get lunch with you.”

“Great,” you said, “Go get some rest then, I’m sure you’re tired from your first day. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

And you sent him off with your warmest smile.

~~~

The sun was warm against your face, baking the bricks beneath your feet and dancing in the canal waters in front of you.

“The third seasons my favorite,” you said, stabbing your fork into your lunch, “It just wraps up everything so well, the character arcs are perfect.”

“Mmm,” agreed Jisung, “My only issue with the third was the pairing they ended up with? I don’t know it just seemed like there were so many better option for her to end up with and then she ends up with him? It just seemed kind of forced to me, like they planned out that storyline from the beginning, but then the characters evolved and ended up in such difference places that other people would have just made way more sense?”

“Yes!” you agreed, “There was no chemistry. You’re right – it really seems like they decided on it early on, and then stuck to a plan they shouldn’t have. Honestly, none of the pairings really made sense.”

Jisung took another bite of his sandwich, nodding vigorously in agreement while his mouth was full of bread. You leaned back against the bench, gazing across the flowerbeds. The government building loomed behind you, gray and imposing, the shadow it cast a constant reminder of the work you had yet to complete.

You had expected your first lunch to be mostly a mea culpa, maybe a gateway to a gentle work acquaintanceship, but you had quickly found that you had more in common than you thought. You liked all the same books, movies, and shared a favorite childhood show that both of you still (embarrassingly) liked to watch. Things with Jisung were suprisingly easy. Comfortable, even. So your first lunch had naturally flowed into one the next day, and then the next week, and now it was just a normal part of both of your routines.

At noon each day, you would leave the office together, and while he grabbed lunch from one of the fancy lunch places along the river, you staked your claim on your favorite bench where he would meet you a few minutes later.

“So…” you said, watching as he scrunched the paper that had wrapped his sandwich into a ball, “Your birthday is Saturday, right?”

Jisung’s had snapped to yours, eyebrows rising in surprise, as he asked, “How did you know?”

“I always look up birthdays in the employee database when new people join,” you responded, “If I like them, that is.”

Jisung smiled, breaking eye contact to watch a tug boat that floated lazily by.

“So I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” you said, “since I won’t see you until after.”

He looked back at you, but said nothing. But there was something in his expression to you that was clear, but you couldn’t pin exactly why you were able to decipher it. He wanted something.

“You have a thought,” you stated, looking at him intently.

“Oh I…” he said, “Oh no it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Ji,” you said.

You immediately pushed your lips together, chastising yourself for your slip-up. The nickname had come out so naturally, so easily but…you might be work acquaintances and have some things in common, but he was still a Han. You shouldn’t just be throwing around nicknames with someone like that.

But Jisung just smiled, the reflections off the water pooling in his eyes.

“YouwannacometomyhouseSaturday?” he said all at once, as if he was pushing the words out before he stopped himself, before he reconsidered.

“You want me to come over?” you asked, wondering if you had misinterpreted his mumbling, constructed a fantasy meaning from entirely different words.

But he just nodded vigorously, expression apprehensive.

“For your birthday?”

He nodded again.

Your immediate thought was that no, you did not want to attend some sort of party that no doubt would be populated only families like the Hans, having to awkwardly dodge questions and watch as people looked at your with that pitying look. You didn’t even know what the expectations would be – what were you supposed to wear? Bring?

It sounded like hell, but after the way you had talked to him on his first day, you still felt that you owed him.

And aside from all the family stuff – he was nice. At least he had been so far, to you.

“Okay,” you said, breathing in slowly, “Yeah, I think I can do that. Should I…bring anything?”

He grinned widely, and just shook his head as he said, “Only you.”

~~~

At Saturday at 8pm, you found yourself standing in front of white door, in a long, glittering hallway, clutching at the box you had brought with you.

You took one deep breath. Two. You would knock after the third.

Three. Four. Five. Six.

Okay, you said to yourself, you can do this.

You squeezed your first, rapping twice on the door.

You heard a shuffle from inside, and then a few clicks before the door swung open, Jisung’s bashful smile coming into view.

And then you saw the interior of his apartment, and your jaw dropped.

You had known that his apartment would be luxurious and beautiful, like all those staged homes you had seen on the cover of architecture magazines as you had waited to check out your groceries. But to see it in person was quite another thing.

The interior was all painted white, with soaring ceilings and exquisite moldings, wrapped by on all sides by high windows that offered a glittering view of the bay below, the lights of boats and windows twinkling in the darkness. Your eyes bounced between the fireplace, the spotless couch, various sparkles of gold and bronze and silver, the colors in the rug spread beneath his feet. Heirlooms too precious for him to touch, for you to even look at.

And then you noticed – there were no people. Just you and Jisung.

You swallowed before stepping across the threshold and handing the box you had been carrying to him.

“A cake,” you explained, “I baked it, for your birthday.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, face lighting up, “Thank you! That’s so nice of you. Let me take it to the kitchen, we can cut it there.”

And so you followed him as he walked through the living room, your eyes desperately trying to take in your surroundings. You weren’t surprised to see that his kitchen was similarly appointed with what was no doubt an incredibly expensive coffee machine, the same expanse of windows with views of the bay, a set of tables and chairs that looked as if it had been pulled straight out of a magazine.

He gently opened the box, rummaging through the one of the draws to pull out a knife, and then carefully pressed it against the cake. The cake was a simple chocolate one, dusted in powdered sugar, the one your mother had always made you. You were sure he was used to finer desserts, but he seemed genuinely excited that you had brought it.

As you watched him slice it into eighths, you finally gave voice to the question that had been clawing at you since you entered.

“Sorry, Jisung, am I early? I kind of thought this was going to be a party…”

You saw him freeze for a moment, tensing, before turning around slowly, his eyes falling on yours.

“It…no, it’s just us. Is that okay? I probably should have made that clear.”

And then you saw his eyes bug out, a sudden realization hitting him, and he rushed to explain,

“I hoped you don’t think this is a…move or something. To like, invite you to my apartment to get you alone. That wasn’t my intent, I just thought it would be fun to…hang out?”

You were suddenly hit with that familiar urge that you sometimes felt around him, to say what you actually thought, and before you had thought it through you were asking:

“Can I ask…why? I just kind of assumed with all your connections and your family and everything you would have this big party. So I guess I’m just surprised, and kind of confused why I’m here, and like, clearly you wouldn’t be hitting on me or anything but I don’t know…I guess I’m just kind of confused?”

He took a deep breathe, lowering his eyes.

“I had that before this, the family thing. Dinner with my parents, my sister, her husband, family friends. But honestly it’s more of an obligation than anything else, a way for families to reinforce ties. And then normally I just come home to my apartment after.”

He took a deep breath, biting at his lip.

“Every year my sister suggests have a party after, with just my friends, but…I guess there just hasn’t been anyone who I felt comfortable enough with for that? Who I thought would want to celebrate with me? I guess I just don’t really have…”

Friends. He trailed off, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence, the reality too heavy for him to speak.

“But this year, when my sister asked, I thought of you. Even though we haven’t known each other for that long, I’m…comfortable with you. I like spending time with you. And it seems like might like spending time with me? And I didn’t think I would actually ask, but then you mentioned it at work and well…”

He gestured towards you, standing in his kitchen.

“It’s embarrassing to say, but that’s the truth, since you were curious.”

You nodded, a little bubble of something new and warm forming in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. At your expression, his shoulders visibly relaxed. You wanted to put him at ease, to assure him that he hadn’t made the wrong choice in pushing himself to ask.

You were also reeling a little bit at the idea that he had been so nervous about asking you.

“I do like spending time with you,” you responded, “And I’m honored you want me to celebrate with you…”

“But I would try the cake first,” you said, your smile taking on a mischievous edge, “before you decide that I’m the birthday guest you want. It’s my mom’s recipe, but she’s the good baker, not me.”

He chuckled, saying, “Honestly, it could be the driest cake and I think I would still like it.”

~~~

The doorbell rang. Your order of chicken wings, probably.

“I’ll get it,” said Jisung, rising from his seat.

You had been curled up on his couch for the last five hours or so, going through the entire first season of your shared favorite show. And while you hadn’t entirely settled into your surroundings, you were finding surprisingly easy to feel comfortable. You chatted and laughed, ordered various fried foods as the night progressed between bites of your (mediocre) cake, sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions.

Jisung walked back over to you, placing the take-out container on the table. You gingerly picked up a wing, holding your hand against the back of your plate, guarding against any drips. You still were terrified of getting anything on his pristine white couch, which no doubt cost more than half a year’s rent.

Catching your caution, Jisung quickly said, “Oh don’t worry about getting anything dirty. It’s not a big deal.”

You looked at him incredulously, saying, “But isn’t this couch like…thousands of dollars…”

“Well yes, but…” he trailed off, clearly weighing whether continued explanation would too clearly highlight your differences, come off as a boast.

And then you saw something spark in his expression. And you knew immediately, just as you had by the canal earlier in the week – he wanted to ask you something.

“Can I ask you something?” he ventured cautiously.

“Mhmh, ” you responded, your mouth still full.

“Why the housing office? “ he continued, “I know it’s not…typical for people with your background. So I’ve been curious.”

You swallowed your mouthful, before responding, “I think I alluded to it when we first talked. But the house I grew up in was always in a pretty dire state. Which is pretty typical in the countryside with the crumbling canals and everything built too low but…waking up in the middle of the night to floods, all of your belongings getting ruined, constantly fighting the dampness and the mold…”

“I just think sometimes about when I have kids, how awful I’d feel too if they had to live in a house like that. How awful my parents did feel. Trying to keep the house safe and stable for us. It always hurt to see how much they blamed themselves for something they couldn’t control. I just feel like everyone should be able to have a nice, safe house, a true home. So I wanted to get into the housing office to see if I could maybe get more attention on that, on building homes that are more flood resistant in the countryside, and better support for when there are floods.”

You let out a slow, frustrated exhale.

“Of course right now I’m mostly just getting through paperwork. And that dream feels pretty stupid now, actually. Like, there’s no way I’ll be able to actual do anything at this rate but, I’m here in this job now I guess, so…” you shrugged, looking back at the screen in front of you.

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” said Jisung gently, laying his hand gently on your knee, before catching himself and pulling it back.

~~~

When you woke up the next morning, you immediately knew by the feel of the sheets – silky, soft – that you weren’t at home.

You bolted upright, blinking away the sleep until the room came into view. Jisung’s apartment. Jisung’s bedroom.

You threw off the comforter and padded back into the living room to see Jisung sitting on his couch, a pillow to his left and a crinkled blanket to his right.

“Oh my god, did you sleep on your couch because of me?” you asked.

Jisung turned to you, and exclaimed, “Oh you’re up! Oh uh, yeah, but, it was no problem – you fell asleep during the movie so I moved you to my bed, I hope you don’t mind? And obviously I wasn’t going to sleep in the bed with you, so…”

“I’m so sorry Ji!” you said shaking your head at yourself, “It was your birthday and you didn’t even get to sleep in your own bed! I’m the worst.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” he said, “I was really fine! The couch was perfectly comfortable.”

“And honestly I kind of…” he continued, “I’ve never had a birthday that was so fun that we just kind of fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.”

He looked down for a moment, the embarrassment casting a shadow over him for a moment, before he looked back up at you, his face all sunshine.

“So I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday,” he concluded.

You smiled back at him, and before you thought it through fully, you leapt forward pulling him into a hug. He tensed for a moment in surprise, before he melted into you, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“I’m glad,” you whispered, “You deserve the best birthday.”

He then pulled away, looking at your seriously, his eyes quickly dancing between yours, looking for something.

“How about I make you some coffee?” he asked, his hand rubbing at the back of his head, expression guilty, “I think you maybe got like…four hours of sleep max? Which is my fault, so this is the least I can do.”

You knew then that you must look tired but that he was too polite to tell you that, so you suppressed a giggle, simple stating, “That would be great, Ji.”

So he stood up, and, with one final smile, disappeared into the kitchen.

~~~

* Part III Coming Soon :) *

~~~

Photo by Henry Be on Unsplash

~~~

[shania-twain]

What’s your top 5 favorite Rollisi moments?

I apologize, as this ask was sent days ago and I'm just now getting around to it because ya know, life, and because I took my sweet time thinking over these scenes.

It's a long one, under the cut!

1. The Scene (the kiss). This kiss has everything. It’s unexpected yet long overdue. It’s tender, it’s loving. There’s swaying. There’s standing on tip toes to reach Tol and there’s bending down to reach Smol. There’s water, city lights, a romantic atmosphere. There's tears (barely) but it's an excuse to touch faces! There's cheek caressing, there's longing, lingering stares, there's hesitance in transitioning from best friends to lovers. Light banter, nervous laughter. THE UNFINISHED SPEECH. I know I'm all over the place with this but SO ARE MY FEELINGS. So much has led up to this moment and I must say, the payoff was excellent. Perfect first kiss.

2. The Fight. Dare I name the one fight they got in that caused them to be labeled “toxic” by haters? I do dare. Why, one may ask? *shakes out piece of paper* Though they are fueled by their lack of sleep and unsaid feelings for each other at the time, there’s still some bite to Amanda’s bark on her part. She’s clearly upset over him leaving her, feels abandoned. Perhaps this is a feeling she’s used to from her own family trauma, but Carisi leaving the precinct particularly hurt not only because she has strong feelings for him at this point, but because he was the only one that ever was there for her in a way no one else was. I think she came to rely on him more than she may have even realized and that all spilled out in that small fight in the squad room. And he was so taken aback, obviously thought she was happy for him but of course she’s going to tell him she is because she doesn’t want to hurt him. The fight is so natural, happens unexpectedly but develops organically. The main reason it’s my number two? Giddish and Scanavino’s best acting, imo. And I’ve only seen the actual scene about three times because it makes me semi uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable watching people argue. It was so intimate and clearly turned personal, it almost feels wrong to be watching them go at it (in a bad way. Heh). But I think that’s a testament to the acting! A+++ scene! I dream of writing a fight scene as well as this one!

3. The Hospital. Truly, this episode was packed with Rollisi moments from start to finish. I love every moment we get with them individually (hand grab, anyone? Or when he makes her LAUGH at such an emotional moment in the hospital. I could go on about this scene in detail but I’ll stop). My favorite moment of the episode is actually the last scene of them. After Rollins gets rid of her father's (ex) wife, she’s so proud of herself for doing what she feels is right and that reflects in her face when she smiles at Carisi. It’s so simple and subtle, but there’s so much love in that look. Kelli is a master at giving these loving looks and perfect expressions. It’s also a wonderful contrast to how she used to look at Carisi in the beginning - from season 16, when she thought he was a bit of a goof. Now she looks at him like he hung the got damn moon. We don't get to see Carisi's face here, but I imagine he's looking quite amused at her, maybe even charmed by her a little bit. I'm also obsessed with the way Amanda's eyelashes flutter down when he moves closer to her. Flirting over Amanda's bedridden father? The ✨romance!✨ Swoon!

4. The Elevator. This used to be number one for me, until we got the goodness in season 22. There’s something very special about this hug. It’s not even a hug, really. It’s clinging, desperate, need that one particular person and only this person kind of thing. It’s, of course, devastating that Rollins had to go through the whole thing with Bucci and possibly leaving her children without a mother, but like I said, something special about the way this led to letting the audience see who she really trusts as she let’s herself fall apart and into Carisi’s arms. Sure, she trusts her squad, but she also wants them to know she’s ok at all times. Even tells her own therapist this once or twice. She even *begins* to tell Carisi she’s fine, her usual response when asked if she’s alright, but then the second he says her name, it’s like a switch is flicked and she’s sobbing into him. DON’T THINK I FORGOT ABOUT SCANAVINO. He’s always there when she needs it. He’s patient with her, kind, takes her into him with absolutely no hesitation. This scene happens episodes after their fight in the squad room. It’s clear there is no more lingering tension between them in the elevator scene. It’s the way he says “I got you” not once but TWICE, as if he needs her to hear it. Needs to make sure she understands that he’s there not just in the moment, but he’s got her always. No matter what happens between them or with their jobs — and this comes back around in his wedding speech, as well. 🤧 But also, fave part of that scene? When he holds her tighter, leans his head against hers many times, and then closes his eyes. Cannot stand to hear her sobs, or see her in any kind of pain. Oh, my heart. My heaaaaaaart.

5. Rain check. Lots of great acting here. Is anyone surprised? No, but there’s a bit of a range of emotions in this particular scene and it’s acted so beautifully, I could write a whole paper. I’ll try and keep it brief (ha, yeah right). I don’t think Amanda would ever have a problem getting a man anytime anywhere, but I do think it was a big deal for her to ask this man out. I think maybe her intentions at the time may have been less than trying for a relationship, but she was open to trying something with him. I also think it was a big deal because it felt very planned. The outfit felt planned, the way she made him laugh, the hair toss an attempt to flirt. Though she also had this vulnerability about her that only exists with him. She’s putting herself out there, she’s saying that she’s willing to try and I think that is a big step for her, even if she was only open to a FWB situation (that totally 100% wouldn’t have worked bc *feelings*). Carisi, however, rejects her. You can see in his face that he’s so reluctant to do this but he does. Obviously, he’s had feelings for the woman for so long but is protecting himself. Almost like he knows she may think she’s ready to try something with him, but he also knew it wasn’t their time yet. Also, after he tells her he can’t, the immediate disappointment Amanda has? Heart-wrenching, tbh. She looks so upset and gets off from sitting on the edge of his desk so fast. Like. BABYYYYY.

Honorable Mentions: Threats! I’m kind of cheating here, but there’s nothing like an OTP that will kill for the other. I’m -of course- talking about Carisi’s “if Rollins gets shot over this, I’m gonna take ALL of them out.” And also Amanda’s message to Mesner: “if you go after Counselor Carisi or anyone in my family again, it will be your last day on earth. I’ll kill you myself.” Ooh, there’s something so secks see about being violently protective over your significant other. I don’t condone it irl, but let me have the ✨drama✨on tv.

Thank you for this question! I had fun going over some great scenes!

[female-buckets]

You make the Pinoe/Sue meet sound kinda incidental...From interviews and SM stuff, they did seem to have an awareness of each other from before the Olympics. They obviously hit it off pretty well, and pretty quick, at least that's how Pinoe's book and their GQ interview made it seem. Don't you sense that there's a genuine connection between them? Sue seems like the type to kick someone to the curb pretty quickly if she's not into it. There was a pod Sue did over quarantine where she said Megan moved in *really* fast. I think Megan dumped her ex, and bc they shared a house, she had no where to live initially, so she moved right in with Sue. I have to think that Sue would have pulled the plug long ago if she thought this wasn't it.

Also, I think Sue might have a hard time dating another bball player- she's just too competitive of a person. With Pinoe, they get the others' lifestyle, but don't have to compete over on-court accolades and stuff.

Kristen Mann was a basketball player. She was a hot benchie like Jacki Gemelos or Ty Young.

The Megan thing wasn't incidental. Sue realized she needed a girl and she found one. They weren't dating before the 2016 Olympics. They were just sort of barely aware of each other even though they played for the same city. I don't think Sue went to Rio with a "get Megan" plan. But she did go intending to meet people.

I know Sue talks about being "shy" by nature. But she means shy in a basketball way. She had to learn to command people on the court. That didn't come naturally for her the way it does for some people (Diana lol). But off the court, Sue's a socialite. After Sue retired from playing overseas and it was just Diana in Russia, there were no more Russia parties. It was Sue who had brought the party all those years. Sue likes to meet everyone and know everyone and party with everyone. That's her basic approach to social situations. She had that same approach to Rio but with the added motivation of finding a date.

Sue left Rio with a date to spend the off-season with and take to Diana's wedding. And Megan left Rio with a 2 month plan of leaving her fiance and showing up on Sue's doorstep. I'm guessing Megan waited until their seasons were over before uhauling to Sue's place. And Sue just went with it. Because, once again, some girl Sue hooked up with left her fiance for Sue. Yes, that's right. Megan was not the first one to pull that stunt. Kristen Mann was. So Sue was thinking "oh okay. Another Kris." Just a day in the life of Sue Bird.

Sue and Kristen were hanging out on and off from 2007 till 2015. I don't know what happened in 2015, but there's no pictures of them together after that. Kristen must've realized Sue would never settle down with her, so she ended their thing for good. That probably gave Sue a lot to think about. Would she ever settle down? Is that something she even wanted? When Kristen 2.0 showed up on her doorstep, she had to make a decision. Have fun and string her along for several years until she gets annoyed and leaves? Or... do the thing that all her friends have been doing, settle down, and give the relationship a real chance. She chose the latter. The timing was right and Megan was the right person. You need to have both those things to start a good love story. If Megan had bad timing and showed up 5 years earlier, it wouldn't have worked out.

Lastly, Megan fans should be so grateful to Diana. Sue and Diana are extremely competitive. But Diana definitely matured faster than Sue in the relationship department. Diana's not the type to win quietly. I'm sure she constantly pestered Sue about her failure to settle down. She told Sue "step away from the table." But she wasn't being shady at Megan when she said that. She was being shady at Sue. She was basically saying "Megan's engaged. And you're 35! Get serious."