You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch
A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan’s entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.
People say happiness is a choice.
But what if…just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can’t seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?
Or maybe it’s just your anxiety killing you.
You’ve had panic attacks before, and you hated it–it’s like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.
But anxiety…anxiety is on a whole other level.
It never leaves.
You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren’t so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don’t delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?
“Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn’t happy with herself so much she can’t stand to look at the mirror some days?”
Highly unlikely.
Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about ‘when I was your age, I didn’t have that kind of shit to deal with’.
And yet you were tired.
Existing was just tiring sometimes.
“You’re thinking too much, mouse. ”
You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.
Or former bedroom?
Well you weren’t dead. Not yet anyway.
It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.
The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan’s residence.
Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).
It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.
That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.
She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.
You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.
According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up –it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.
Grim reaper’s eyes he had said.
And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.
It was a pretty morbid way to go.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, mouse. ” Byul hovers to the side.
Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.
You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene doesn’t talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.
“Just…how we’re going to go about things tomorrow. ” You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.
The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn’t everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys’ in terms of being a god send.
She pokes your nose, another habit you’ve noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).
“Don’t worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them.”
Theat least for now isunspoken and that’s what makes you shudder.
“Oh, you’re fading, mouse. ” She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.
True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.
Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.
Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.
It was the limit of Eugene’s strange abilities–he can’t make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one’s soul.
Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.
At least for a good while.
All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.
Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.
When he wasn’t loving girls and leaving them that is.
“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul’s energy.
“Sleep, mouse.” She says, and your lids flutter shut.
You awake to arguing.
“Stop, don’t open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!”
Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.
“Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you’re tired, yeah?”
Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.
Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.
Oh.
“Guys? What are you doing here? Don’t you have to be at the company?” You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.
Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father’s huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.
It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.
From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can’t help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.
“That smells like shit,” you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.
But…could you even eat at this point?
Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can’t even if you want to.
Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.
Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, “Mouse, don’t eat anything. ”
You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.
“But…it smells fine?” He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene’s dead sister for explanation.
She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. “To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. ”
Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, “What does it smell like to you, Byul?”
She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. “Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. ”
You frown. “Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?”
She smiles at you mysteriously. “My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. ”
Does that mean–oh. Oh!
You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn’t be alone.
You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.
But now you are starting to think otherwise.
So Byul still haunted the place, huh.
It would’ve creeped you out, but seeing as you’re on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn’t get back, it was like you weren’t even afraid at all.
Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn’t work out with the boys.
You think you saw a twitch on the seven men’s faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.
She leans forward from her position against the wood, “I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that’s alright with you, YN?”
Byul switches topics fast and you can’t help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.
The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.
The shelter?
“What do you mean the shelter?” Hoseok frowns.
You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.
You gulp.
Here’s the thing.
Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.
“The, um…it’s,” you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. “It’s a facility for homeless people. ”
They sigh in relief. “Oh. That does not seem so bad?” Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can’t help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn’t enough.
The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, “Do you…work there?”
Of course they wouldn’t know.
They didn’t know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.
The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.
You shrug. “It’s a voluntary kind of thing. ”
You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).
“You didn’t tell them?”
They swivel to her and you wince.
“YN?” Jin’s no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.
Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.
“It’s a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out.”
You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.
If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.
This was troublesome.
FLASHBACK
“What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can’t she learn it herself?” Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.
“…okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn’t that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?” He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.
Byul could only smirk. “If you’re worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don’t seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. ”
Eugene pauses. “So basically you’re telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that’s somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?”
“Yes. ”
“…Fine. You all heard that?” He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.
At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.
Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.
“If only you hadn’t been fucking around, this would be a lot easier.” Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn’t have agreed more.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Just cussing
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
A/N. Hi. I lied. I can’t seem to stop updating oh my goodness lmao. Do enjoy and tell me what you think. Don’t be afraid to comment, I don’t bite. Also, I can’t seem to stop playing Spy x Family’s Ending Theme in my mind on a loop help me.
Chapter 6: The One with the Magic
The drive to your house had been filled with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, and as the nine of you were now seated around the classy living room of the Bangtan mansion, you nervously await the gavel to hit the podium.
“I won’t lie. This is a fucking nice house.” Eugene sips his red wine as if tasting any sort of imperfections, ranking it, undecided whether it was one of the best he’s had or the worst he’s hated but you know your boss loves cheap wine more than anything and so you bite your lip in anticipation, unaware that the small action was so enticing some of your companions had to shift to hide the growing outlines beneath their pants.
Once he sets his glass down at the coffee table however, Seokjin who couldn’t take it anymore tugs Yoongi who gratefully tags along with him to the kitchens with a measly excuse of preparing dinner, while the rest are left to be fed to the wolf.
Namjoon is especially fearing for everyone’s safety, measuring the gravity of the circumstances as his eyes dart to yours in a sort of plea– your employer had taken it upon himself to sit by you and any advances on the boys’ parts might be taken as a sign of aggression.
At least for the tarot master.
The Bangtan leader clears his throat awkwardly. “So…welcome to our home, sir. ”
The maknae line are teetering on the edge of their seats, and you know they’d rather chop onions or clean shit out of the toilets than be an audience to this escalating persecution. Because you know and they know that men in red lipsticks and expensive silk suits did not come to play.
Not when the verdict wasn’t out yet.
Eugene claps his hands, a sharp contrast to the tense silence enveloping the room and all backs straighten. You could practically hear their balls recede while the noises in the kitchen come to a pause before restarting with much fake alacrity.
“Let’s get down to business, boys. Time is of the essence after all. ” He fishes out what looks to be his favorite oracle card set (all gilded in emerald green) and a scrying pendant, a real amethyst triangular stone dangling from the silver chain.
You gulp. If he’s brought that then–shit!
You briskly flicker your stare to the occultist in disbelief and as if the boys all sense your nerves, Seokjin and Yoongi pop in, bringing forth appetizers all while inching a bit to where you were, flanking behind you in the couch.
They wore matching black cat aprons that were it not for the gravity of the situation, you would find it hilarious.
They all warily stare at the deck of cards in his hand, having never seen one before.
Your lovely boss hands the pendant to you and you catch it, eyes watching your every movement. “Eugene, this is–”
“Shush, child and let the master begin. ”
Oh shit, he isserious.
Okay.
You forcibly do not breathe for a second or two as the show commences.
“WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK?!”
Bellows, screams, and shouts all mingle in one moment as the Yin Yang Quatro’s floor master spreads the cards in the air, floating them to a steady position in front of him one by fucking one like some fascinating magical performance one would pay good money for on any given day.
The only one unfazed here is you however having been privy to his skills countless of times for his high end clients such as politicians and celebrities, as you contain a sigh–Eugene was flashy but you loved him for it anyway.
Ignoring the hands at your shoulders as if to protect you from whatever the fuck was going on, you focus instead as three cards come to a stop in front of you.
You open your palm upwards and they readily reveal themselves to you.
These were his phrase Oracle cards so the meanings were pretty clear in the reading:
To move forward you should not let things be.
Okay, pretty damn straight.
Beware neglect for it shall cost you a fee.
Neglect? Does it mean that you have a time limit or something? Well shit.
You read the last card, eyes widening in shock.
Love will save you.
What the fuck! These seven men don’t even love you! At least not that you know of.
You don’t think they even like you in the romantic sense?
The occultist tilts his head to the side, seeming to consider for a moment before snapping his wrist and the cards fly back neatly in a pile in his hand.
Several gasps resound once again as he keeps the deck back inside his suit pocket and checks his watch. He nods minutely, all the while you eye the pendant which has now taken on a silver hue.
That was definitely purple a second ago.
“Doll, if you would?” Eugene gestures to your neck and you immediately clasp it around yourself to the light protests of your boys -who knows what the fuck that necklace does!- who instantly shut their mouths with one look from the tarot master himself.
He stands, circling the room as you all remain watchful before he’s kneeling down on the center rug, tracing patterns over it with his index finger, mumbling phrases which only you were now familiar with.
At your small gasp, you are hauled against a sturdy chest –Yoongi– while Jin’s broad shoulders shield you. The rest of the room have given your boss a wide berth to do his shit.
And when he finishes, you flinch feeling your necklace heat up only for you to get practically flung to the center to everyone else’s extreme concern but yours and Eugene’s.
Your bare feet land on the soft mass of carpet, a circle of light surrounds your frame, before it vanishes just as quickly.
And then a ghostly form shimmers into existence.
“Hi, Byul. Long time no speak.” Eugene smirks, as the long haired witch narrows her gaze at him.
You gulp. This was Moon Byul, the former owner of Yin Yang Quatro, Eugene’s estranged sister and someone who was supposed to be dead.
Eugene turns to you cheerily. “No one better who could help than a real ghost, huh?”
You hear someone (might be Hoseok) faint in the background.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Sickness, Cussing, Implied drug use , Implied manwhoring around
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 5: The Neighbor (and friends) Across the Hall
A/N. Hello there. Am I dropping chapters too quick? Anyway, I let this chapter basically write itself and it ended up surprisingly good. But I may not be updating again for this week as I wrote this chapter with a head ache and I may be out of commission for awhile. We’ll see. Hope you enjoy! Comment for taglist. :)
ALSO. A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL WHO HAVE READ AND ARE READING THIS SERIES. 감사합니다!
FLASHBACK
Like claws raking horribly against a chalkboard, you hold back a grimace, lips down turned from the overcast shadows looming before you, a sign of doom or at most the barbie league club from the drama department who could only afford the cheapest drink they could get at their local Starbucks.
Icy blue irises roam over the standard uniform you and every employee in this branch were forced to don –fitted green shirt and baggy corduroy pants– and as if the devil himself reincarnates, she tips the cup of her Teavana with a flick of the wrist, the contents spilling all over the place and your ears burn as she gives you a lame ‘oops, how clumsy of me’.
The other patrons are glaring at the girls to leave like the bunch of idiotic menaces they were and when they finally do (but not without giving you the finger), your shoulders sag, a heavy sigh escaping your lips just as your manager inches his way towards you, shaking her head as she helps by handing you the mop.
“This is coming out of your paycheck unfortunately,” she mutters under her breath before going back to her station.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears (you were already feeling a bit rundown due to the non stop rain and you had several papers due tonight) and now this.
Can’t you just catch a break?
Some of the more long term patrons offer you consoling glances as you pass them by to go clean up and you shoot them a tired but grateful smile nonetheless.
Once you’re done with things, you go back to the counter to tend to the next batch of customers, hoping they weren’t as mean to you as those blonde bimbos had been.
-
They say time flies by quickly when you’re happy doing what you love but to say you loved working was an overstatement.
It’s not like you were poor. You came from a good and loving family (despite your parents being gone all the time) with money, and one word to them would leave you with a few thick bills in your disposal.
But you didn’t want to remain dependent, stemming from a mindset that you were an only child and you would eventually (and sadly) have to learn to navigate your entire rest of your life once your parents are gone.
Hence you wanted as much practice as you could get.
However, with merely an undergraduate, not many high paying jobs will take on a college student buried in loans, so you took to the streamline and applied at the nearest Starbucks.
You loved the smell of coffee anyway and though you weren’t a barista, you were quite efficient at pushing buttons so you’ve been told.
In the least, you liked your job but not enough to be willing to stay after hours, so when Kai comes in for the next shift, you happily hand your apron over to him. “Here, good luck!” You singsong and get the fuck out of there, not giving your friend a chance to respond mainly because he looked even grumpier than you had been going in to work.
It was still raining even if it was already half past ten in the evening (yes, your boss operated twenty four seven), and you hazard a glance at your phone to see whether any of your best friends had even bothered to check in.
Well no, apparently not. Though your other boss, Eugene, (yes, you had two jobs because student loans are fucking killer) did tell you not to come in tomorrow as the energy in the shop was not going to be pleasant and you send him a response, already knowing that he’s chastising you in his own weird way to get the day off because he knew you got sick easily when it got cold.
With a shiver, you run to your car, umbrella in hand and turn on the heat at full blast once inside.
Anyone who asks you how you could afford an expensive ride with a cashier’s daily wage, you just shrug and let them assume you were a sugar baby. It was more fun that way.
You sneeze before you could even step on the pedal, and you grow nervous, hand feeling your forehead. Well at least you weren’t running a fever. But you did feel a bit dizzy…
Ignoring the slight discomfort, you blend through the highway traffic, hoping you don’t faint.
-
You don’t faint. In fact you nearly faint and hastily park your vehicle to an emergency stop clearing where fewer cars drove through.
Harsh water pelts the roof of the Bentley and you wish you brought your noise cancelling earphones to at least drown out the low, metallic rumble from the now full on thunderstorm.
Afraid of getting hit with one of those stray lightnings, you had kept away from any trees and instead held yourself front and center in an open field where a murderer in a mask would most likely drag you to Christ knows where.
Not feeling up to continuing risking your health, you ask one of the guys to come get you but you are merely left on read.
Fuck.
It was an hour to midnight and you don’t think it was safe for women to be out by themselves in the middle of nowhere. Groaning, you gently lay your head on the cool window, when your phone rings.
Renewed hope wells within you only to be shot down with a flaming arrow when Taemin’s voice bounces from the other line. “Heya, neighbor!” He chirps a little too enthusiastically for your liking.
Your head was already pounding and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.
You hum lightly, tracing invisible circles in the air and he instantly notices. “YNie? Are you okay? You don’t sound so hot. ”
“Well, I am cold…” You murmur, closing your lids for a brief moment for respite from the drudgery of it all.
You can hear a few people in the background and Taemin shuts them up, baritone serious as if just then remembering that you were a sickly goose. “Oh shit, are you somewhere dry and warm? Baby, where are you?”
“Is that Kai? Did he manage to skip work and go to that stupid Beta Tau Sigma party after all?”
“No, now I said shut your mouths, didn’t I?” Your sweet neighbor calls out with a lowly growl, something you haven’t heard for a long time, and all laughter ceases.
Woah. That’s hot.
And wait, you didn’t hear about any type of parties happening with Bangtan tonight? If you would they would have told you and you would have been a good girl and not gotten in their way (that is lock yourself in your room but leave through the fire escape and sleep over at your own apartment, possibly hang out with Taeminie and binge watch a few Netflix episodes of Kotaro lives alone).
Beta Tau Sigma threw subtle parties where alcohol was plenty and sometimes women and drugs were involved. You had to learn weed butter recipe for the guys at some point just so Jin wouldn’t strangle the maknaes for basically slaughtering every carton of milk they could find in the kitchen to curb their failed attempts at churning a presentable lump of pimped dairy.
You loved your best friends to death (and are in love with them sadly) but the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity tended to go all out at house gatherings and you’d rather not accidentally intrude in case one of them decides fucking someone in your home was fine.
Especially if it were one of your boys. Well not your boys. Anyway.
Gathering what little strength you have left as the drowsiness was taking over, you clumsily send your coordinates to your friend on the other end of the line.
A bellow reaches your ears and you shy away from the angry voice. “You are fucking where?! Stay there, YN. Like hell you’re going back home in that condition. ”
Huh? Did you tell him you were sick or something?
“Okay,” you mumble, unaware that you were succumbing to sleep.
-
“Shit, she’s burning up!”
“Hurry, pass me that cold pack!”
“Anyone started on the hot broth yet?”
“Yeah, over here. ”
“When the fuck is Kai coming back with the cold medicine?”
Blearily, your eyes open a millimeter, only to close once more as they feel heavy under the bright lights.
Who were these people again?
“Taemin-hyung, here.”
A brief mumble of thanks and then a wet cloth is pressed to your forehead. Instantly, you feel so much better already from the feel of the coolness.
“Ravi, can you…”
“Yeah, here.”
Someone helps you up gently, arms roped around your shoulders as you are put in a sitting position. Something hard slides between your lips followed by water and you subconsciously gulp whatever it was down.
You cough a bit only for hands to scrabble at your back in up down motions and then you’re lying on the softest bed you have ever felt.
“Taemin, I can take it from here. You go help Sungwoon with the chicken soup. ”
In the distance, rushed footsteps are heard as a door opens and closes with a click. The footsteps get nearer and a voice you recognize as your friend Kai’s comes barrelling through with a whisper. “Where is she? Oh shit, YN. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice earlier!”
A hand touches your burning cheek and you nuzzle into it.
“Did you tell them?”
“What?”
“ Bangtan. ”
“Fuck no. I mean I ran into Jimin awhile back, they were picking up some food as I was leaving and when I asked if YN got home okay, they weren’t even aware she had left already. ”
A sigh and then you are shifted to the left as a weight on your right settles, hands coming to stroke your hair.
“No shit? If I ever come across Bangtan, I am pummeling their pretty boy faces. How could they leave her like this? All for a fucking house party? I’m so glad I refused Park Jimin’s invitation to join all those years ago. ”
The hand in your hair pauses. “…It’s uh, I think they have weed in there so they might be high for a bit. That may explain why they’re pretty much out of it. ”
“Honest to God if they ditched her for a fuck, I will murder them. ”
Murmurs of agreement float through the room and your brain shuts down, not even thinking about the entire conversation you’ve overheard.
Not until the next morning where you are left alone with your thoughts (your friends had their own lives and own work so you couldn’t fault them for leaving you unattended–at least they made a mean breakfast and set up your bath and even gave you a change of spare clothes and some medicine to go with it) and decide to run to Yin Yang Quatro, teary eyed and heart broken because not one of Bangtan had even left a text.
Guess your friendship with the seven men wasn’t that important after all.
END OF FLASHBACK.
Now Taemin wasn’t a vindictive person.
He wasn’t also one to be easily angered.
In fact, he was the most patient out of all of his friends.
And yet when it came to YN, his neighbor, his friend, he would do anything for her.
In fact they (Sungwoon, Ravi, and Kai) would be willing to walk through fire for her.
It was a pact they took once they decided to help the unconscious girl behind their apartment’s trashcan whom they would later come to know as YN, the most beautiful human being on earth, inside and out.
So when rumors of her getting smashed and cut with the art club’s glass prop started circulating, he had to find out.
And now the four of them were standing before her hospital bed, emotions simmering wildly under the promise of hurting whoever did this to her.
Kai especially was quiet and the guy hardly had nothing to say. Not with his affiliation to Beta Tau Sigma as some sort of honorary member.
“Did they come visit her yet?” Sungwoon asks through gritted teeth as he stares off into space, refusing to acknowledge the reality in front of him so soon.
Ravi frowns as he surveys the damage on YN. Bandaged head, patched up cheeks, and bandages all over her arms and hands. Shit. How was she going to continue working if she woke up? “Yeah. The doctors said they did. ”
Taemin, for all the anger bubbling up inside of him was quick to stamp it out like a lighted cigarette. Cancer sticks they say. “Good. One less fly off the wall. ”
“Or seven. ”
Eyes flash deadly. If there was one thing they were going to do, they were going to search for YN’s soul and bring her back.
They knew YN. They knew everything about her. And they accepted it all. Even if she were to be haunted by some old woman’s ghost or whatever.
Even if they had to make a deal with the devil himself.
They loved her that much.
They were going to have to make a quick trip to Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene Lee Yang might be the answer to their problems.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Minor cussing, Implied self deprecration but very slight
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 4: The Fairy Godmother
FLASHBACK
Twiddling your thumbs inconspicuously wasn’t such a good idea after all as your employer’s sharp gaze pierces you right in your jaded soul.
You didn’t mean to sound so cynical and judging from his tells, Eugene wasn’t too happy with you, or at least with how you viewed yourself.
His manicured nails beckon you forward and you gulp, eyes darting to the pile in front of you– Eugene Lee Yang, tarot master and occultist, absolutely hatedit when his readings were disrupted but once you came in through his door looking for all the whole disgusting world like a damned drenched train wreck, eyes bugging out with tears leaking to your puffy cheeks, he pauses, red lips pinched looking for an explanation which you give.
You fidget in your seat by his raglan couch, the sign by the door right below the Yin Yang Quatro’s flashy neon label saying ‘Closed for business’, as you silently try to assess a quick look at the spread laid out on the table.
One death card and two other major arcana.
Whoever the client was, the universe was basically telling him or her to fuck off from the situation and just let things be.
Yikes.
“Baby girl, look at me. ” He gripes and you flinch, staring at his kohl rimmed eyes.
Your boss was a very hot man, and if he wasn’t gay you would have considered your options but he was happily married to a wonderful husband and you were stupidly in love with the seven banes of your existence.
Hence the tears.
“So you’re telling me, that those stupid boys left you to fend for yourself while you were sick in bed?” He hums when you nod your assent meekly, sharp jaw twitching with annoyance as his fingers tap lightly over his silk jacket. “Were they aware?”
You shake your head, “I mean I did send them a text but I was left on read. Maybe they were just busy or something. ”
Eugene snaps his narrowed gaze to you and you gulp. “Huh. Busy. So you were seriously completely alone?”
Another shake of the head. “Some friends took care of me back at my own apartment so…” You trail off unsure if throwing Taemin into the mix with his consent was okay.
Eugene may be fairly strict with the shop rules but when it came to his employees, you in particular, he was an overprotective mama bear and anyone–rather, any man’snamementioned by you was automatically on his watch list.
Your boss pretends to ignore the friend part for a moment, “I see. And you don’t think you deserve any of their attention when you’ve been nothing but a good friend and room mate to them?”
“That’s not–”
Eugene holds a hand up to shush you. “Not yet done speaking, doll.” He sighs. “YN, you know I despise little girls without any backbone. What, you don’t think you’re beautiful enough to be appreciated by a bunch of fuckboys? Bitch, you don’t need them. You don’t need their attitude. You’re a queen. Act like it. ” He sniffs daintily.
You give him a watery giggle and he smirks.
“Besides, if they so much as leave you high and dry one of these days, I will go to your house and castrate them inch by fucking inch.”
Nothing could compare to an angry Yang boss.
END OF FLASHBACK
“Who the fuck are you?” The Beta Tau Sigma member frowns, arms tightening around you as his brothers close in forming a protective ring around the both of you and your physical body peacefully settled on the hospital bed.
The visitor merely raises a perfect, delicate brow, canine teeth bared for a moment only to recede when his irises pierce yours, and as if a magnetic pull traps you, you subconsciously fly–float to the stranger. “ Eugene!” You bleat happily, arms looping around the man’s lean shoulders.
Today he was wearing a baby blue silk coat and long skirt, looking for all the world like a top runway model. His red lips land on your hairline. “Hello, doll.” He coos and everyone, the Min included, stands stock still as the dress you had been wearing shimmers in the light like an ethereal pixie.
“Holy shit. Was that YN?!” Jeongguk, the wide eyed buck that he was furiously looks to the space where you presumably stood and back to your body with mild hysterics until one of his hyung’s, Seokjin was it, lightly knocks him upside the head.
“But hyung she just–”
Seokjin frowns. “Yes we all saw. It’s just…difficult to wrap our heads around the thought that two YNs are here. ”
Jimin, having had dried his tears long ago speaks up with a much clearer voice directed at Eugene. “I’m sorry, but we’ve known YN since we were kids and I’m afraid we haven’t seen you around before…sir?” He hesitates contemplating whether he was using the correct gender noun.
A sharp laugh echoes within the cramped space of the hospital room, and the boys shift awkwardly, some seeming anxious at the tone the other man had taken.
You let go of your boss and reluctantly float back to the others, Yoongi snatching you up to his side, pushing you behind him with a grim stare at the newcomer.
You remember that Eugene isn’t dangerous to you.
But Eugene Lee Yang was dangerous to those he disliked.
And it appears your boys weren’t faring well in that department.
So with a grimace, you stick closer to Yoongi, ready to tug him just in case your boss decides to chuck his expensive shoes against someone’s head in his wrathful wake.
Of course he would be mad.
You couldn’t count the number of times he’d witnessed you cry over these men you were now trying to cover for.
With all the lip chewing you were immersed in, someone addresses the huge elephant rearing its trunk over all of you.
“That question aside, what is happening here–uh, sir?” Hoseok is quick to beat his brothers to the punch, although quite warily.
He wasn’t going to be disrespectful to possibly the only person who could give a fucking explanation to everything. He had a gut feeling that whoever this man was, was someone who could help YN and he wasn’t taking any chances just so YN can recover fast.
He didn’t think he could live another week without being blessed with your lovely smile.
He actually fucking missed you already even if you were right here in spirit.
Eugene quirks a brow but his lips curl up in a genuine smile directed at the resident sunshine, and although he knew that all of them contributed to a majority of YN’s sadness, this Hoseok was the least guilty from what he’s heard so far.
“Jung Hoseok I presume?” Eugene asks and the boy stammers out an affirmative response. “Charmed. Yes, well. Before I answer any of your questions, YN if you would?” He gestures to you and you reach for him despite Yoongi’s quiet protest.
He didn’t like you leaving him for some other man no matter who they are.
Two things happen simultaneously as soon as you touch the Yang boss’s hands.
You feel a heavy weight settle over you, as if you were being pulled down by gravity.
And then your bare foot touches the hard, cold, bleached tiles one after the other and you shiver with a soft squeak.
“HOLY SHIT YN?!”
A chorus of quaky gasps fill the air and then you are swept up into the nearest person’s arms, this time Taehyung’s.
You turn your smooshed cheeks from your holder and shoot a glance at the Yang boss with pure joy. “H-how?”
Eugene smiles at you gently. But then he sighs, the shadows appearing on his face aging him for a bit, a tick in his jaw forms and he rolls his eyes. “Doll, you know I’m magical. But that’s beside the point. ” He sharply claps his hands garnering command at everyone’s undivided scrutiny.
Eugene was like that. Commanding with his presence at every turn.
“Gentlemen, if you could, I would love to be invited to your home as we have much to talk about as regards YN’s current…state. ”
Namjoon, ever the leader steps forward almost in an unconscious manner as if to assert his dominance, “As long as it will help YN, we are willing to do anything. ”
Unexpectedly, the Yang boss doesn’t laugh, doesn’t mock them, only considers them for a moment and then looks at you. “I can see what you meant, darling.” You flush for some reason and they all turn to look at you but your boss clears his throat, and straightens. “We don’t have the luxury to waste any more time. For YN’s sake, I suggest we go now. Because as of this moment, I am your fairy godmother and she’s Cinderella. Once the clock strikes midnight, it’s poof. If you catch my drift.”
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Cussing, Hospitals, Supernatural
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 2: The Girl in the Rafters
A/N.Italics for flashbacks and whispers.
At merely four years old, death came knocking at your doorstep.
You can still vaguely recall the white mesh, a sort of heavy sensation fluttering over you as soon as you closed your eyes, like a weighted blanket but instead of comforting your anxiety, pulling you in deeper through an unfamiliar ensconce of mist and river.
The healer said your soul was floating in between the wakeful consciousness of reality and the spirit world.
Anyone would have scoffed and relegated the wise old woman’s mutterings to that of a lunatic, but not you.
You who were there.
You who were saved by seven men in white.
You who nearly drowned by invisible hands clawing at your shoulders, your back, your neck, all to take you to the depths of wherever.
You never wanted to relive that moment. For all it’s mysticism, it rendered you bedridden, immobile and not living for a whole month at the least.
Your parents were nearly devastated.
They were frightened.
You were frightened.
So after you woke, the healer had advised you to leave that old, wretched place.
That house built upon slippery river stones and dried up bodies of soldiers long forgotten from the war.
A river of blood. Of suffering. Of ghosts.
Being religious people, your parents heeded the warning, packed what little things you had, and left.
To this day, you have never set foot in that house ever again and you don’t dare to.
However, that was only the beginning of a traumatic experience in your young life.
Once your family was settled in a small one bedroom apartment (it was only much later when you were able to have a glimpse, a taste of the finer things that money could buy) in the uppermost story of your uncle’s house by the dirtiest river you’ve ever seen, the hauntings continued for awhile.
There was a depression in your soul, something you could not pinpoint. Not even the doctors could determine what was going on with you.
Perhaps it was the river spirits out to get you once more.
Or maybe not.
And then one drunken evening, your older cousin (the son of your uncle) smashes your mother’s face with his fucking fist after a brief argument, and in a furious move, you up and leave that fucking hellhole into a much quieter, much nicer suburban area just outside of town.
It may have been for the good of things, as the hauntings vanished. Your declining health stopped waning like the moon high in the sky on eerie nights, and you were happier.
Or happier as an only child with no friends could ever be.
That’s when things changed.
You wouldn’t know if it was for the better or worse, but perhaps a fated meeting was set in stone somewhere faraway, somewhere you didn’t know where to look, that seven boys would barge into your peaceful mornings, all boisterous and loud.
You didn’t get along with them at first.
They were Mr. Bang’s local troublemakers.
Seven children who weren’t related by blood but were bound by an invisible, unbreakable, impenetrable bond.
And that was the thing.
They didn’t just let anybody who was nobody in.
Until you tripped on a rock on the side of the road in front of their stupidly grandiose gates, skinning your knees in your open sundress and righting yourself only to trip once more, this time hitting your forehead with a hard thump.
You didn’t know whether to laugh at yourself or cry in disbelief when three boys around your age came rushing to help you up, two more dusting you off, while another two grabbed your hand and gently led you into the loveliest house you ever laid eyes on.
And when you could only offer a shy gap toothed smile, that cemented you in their lives and themselves in yours.
Floating in this void abyss, you wonder where they are now. Were they even missing you?
You groan as your head aches, the pain too much to bear, your thoughts becoming a jumbled haze.
Who were you thinking about again?
Without much difficulty, as if gravity didn’t exist in this time and space continuum, you tumble seamlessly and land on your feet over a soft patch of what seemed to be your shadow.
Wake up, child.
Startled, your eyes flit to…somewhere because everything was black and empty.
They’re waiting for you.
Who?
The question bubbles from the tip of your tongue.
No further answers are given as you are enveloped in a blinding light and thrust into the rafters of an all too familiar room, clean white walls, equally clean white ceilings, and the sounds of a heart monitor mixed with sniffles enter your ears like a harmonious cacophony of whimpers and sadness.
Suddenly, knuckles pop and you shrink in response to a vase toppling over and breaking, flowers all over the floor as water pools beneath someone’s feet.
They don’t bother cleaning it up, only dodging the mess.
Someone will come in to fix it later anyway.
There is a shuffle of movement and you realize with a heavy thump of your ghostly veins that you knew– memorized the planes of that broad back, or the pale skin on that man, or those dimpled lips, or that forlorn glance hidden beneath curled waves.
Footsteps crash through the somber atmosphere and with a start, you recognize the three men practically panting to catch their breaths before one of them collapses onto his knees, snarling as his fearful gaze darts to the person on the bed.
Oh, that was you.
That was you wrapped in a lump of antiseptic, bandages and a white blanket.
And they were…
The broad shouldered man turns, eyes lidded and coarse and with soft touches leads the broken man on the floor next to you, the other two following almost robotically.
“Hyung what–” The tearful one croaks, and your heart squeezes for him for some reason. He looked like a hurt rabbit.
The palest man frowns, eyes never straying from your prone form, as if analyzing beats on a MIDI but couldn’t quite get the desired placement. “She’s just sleeping.”
A hand pats his shoulder, a head shakes, before the tallest of them bleats, voice a deep dulcet tone and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring his soothing bass with a hum. “She…” A swallow. “YN’s…she’s not going to wake up anytime soon.”
You echo their frowns.
Wake up? Why would you wake up? You were dead…right?
Eyes stray to the fallen daffodils on the cold tiles of the hospital room, each pair glistening over with what you could only determine as grief.
Why were they crying over you?
Why does your heart hurt seeing them like this?
You try to float over to them, to console their aching souls, and when you reach the first one, you skim your finger tips over his cat like features, as if to say “don’t be sad”.
“I’m here. Always.” You whisper tentatively wondering if they can hear you at this point.
There isn’t much of a reaction so you sigh.
Not thinking too much of it, you peck this one’s cheek, pouring everything you have into that single touch.
“YN?!”
You jolt out of the man’s way when he tries to reach for you, pupils wild in abject shock and anguish.
He can see you?
The others around him hold him in fear of what he might do to himself, thinking that he had gone beyond the bend with his torment.
“Yoongi-hyung!”
“Yoongi!”
You take a step back, memories flooding your subconscious or what’s left of it anyway. “Y-Yoongi?” You whisper, tearing up. “What am I– How can you—” You shake your head, just as the older man grabs your wrist and you involuntarily clench your eyes with a small whimper.
Yoongi doesn’t let go, doesn’t mind the others very concerned warnings, and pulls you to his chest as if you were a living bag of flesh and bones. “Baby, please come back.”
You sniffle into his toned chest as he cries, struggling against several arms holding him back form something they couldn’t fucking see. “I’m here. But I don’t know how, Yoongi.” You stare up at him. “I want to come home to you all. ”
Yoongi sobs, kissing your forehead, your hair, your nose, “It’s okay, princess. We’ll figure this out. Just please, stay with me, okay?”
“Hyung…” Someone jostles him but Yoongi in his slightly distraught state lowly growls and the footsteps back away an inch.
“She’s here. You can’t see her, but she’s here. In my arms right now. ”
Hesitant, as if any sudden movements left would startle the older man like one would a feral cat, the tallest one(Namjoon, you think), slowly licks his dry lips (dehydrated from all the crying he did earlier), and croaks. “Okay, hyung. Okay, we will believe you. ” He directs his stare to the space between his hyung’s arms (because if it weren’t a drastic situation, the pose would have been one for a comedic meme).
The rest shuffle warily, staring right at you but also unseeing and you scrunch your red nose.
Yoongi can’t help but kiss it again and you bury your face in his armpit, earning a sultry laugh from the man.
God you missed him. His laugh. His smell. Everything.
Although bits and pieces were still coming to you, you know that these seven men were your entire fucking universe.
You’ve missed all of them.
How long has it been anyway?
You open your lips to ask the question when the sliding doors slam open, and an imposing figure clad in six inch boots and dark red lips looms over you. “Hello, gentlemen.”
FratBoys! BTS x Comatose!Reader (A bit of a slow burn. Just a very teensy bit.)
Supernatural Fluff and angst with a happy ending. Smut will be implied. (For the NSFW, DdoveDE, PWP, check out my other page @clutterfied)
Comment for tags.
Thank you to all who are reading this series. You make this and myself included come alive. 고맙습니다.
Synopsis
You vowed that if you were ever going to die one day, the first thing your ghost would do is haunt the seven men who were nothing but a pain in the ass for you.
Or due to a freak accident, you find yourself staring at your own body lying on the hospital bed. The strange thing was, there were seven insanely gorgeous men crying over you. Huh.
All standard disclaimers apply. All banner edits are mine save for the image backgrounds used which belong to their respective creators.
Update schedule: No definite date. Random. Anytime. BTS could be dropping a post right now and I might just be inspired to drop a chapter.
One of my favorite things about being poly is sharing in a community of love and giving. Yesterday and today were spent making homemade stock out of chickens and veggies from FG’s farm. I have a gallon of stock for her, a gallon of soup and a gallon of soup for my new cutie who…I guess I’ll call Hockey Girl for now? Sure.
Being poly has introduced me to a world of true abundance. Love that doesn’t need to be horded and squirreled away. There’s always food, care, support, love and kindness enough for everyone among farm family, my household and the queer community HG has introduced me too just recently.
I’m swooning hard and Walter is cheesing it even harder (so I had to share!)
Todays media gets more diverse every day but we still have a huge lack of poly relationships. So i decided to collect all the poly relationships I am aware of and that are confirmed CANON in this post. Sadly they are often limited to three people and not really diverse, mostly containing white, abled bodied, cis people.
Be aware this posts contains slight SPOILERS. I will mention if they are still together and alive. Feel free to add further confirmed poly relationships. I will update that post from time to time.
Updated: 22.03.2022
Polo/Cayetana/Valerio - ELITE
This triad first appears in season 3. Polo and Valerio are in the show confirmed as bisexual. Polo is already shown in an another poly relationship in season 1 but it is not necessarily healthy and not 100% build on consent so I am not featuring them here. The triad below is really happy, healthy and cute. Sadly they split up by the end of season 3 and one of them dies.
Eliot/Parker/Hardison - Leverage
They are confirmed canon poly outside the show by the writer. The ending of the first arc can be easily read as a wedding vow. The woman , Parker, gets kissing scenes with both dudes. And they are all really affectionated toward eachother with a lot of hugs. There is a second arc: „Leverage Redemption“. I haven’t watched it yet, so I can not say how they treat the OT3 there but as far as I am aware they are still together, happy and alive. And Parker is confirmed to be on the spectrum.
Wolfgang/Kala/Rajan - Sense8
The show was originally planned for five seasons. If you know the poly relationship is coming you see bits of the build up throughout the first two seasons but because the show was cancelled after the second season the relationship was kinda rushed in the two hours finale. Anyway, it is still wholesome to watch. The triad contains two people of color. They are happy, alive and together.
Lito/Hernando/Dani - Sense8
Nobody knows to be honest. Lito is confirmed to be gay (so shouldn’t actually be romantically or sexual attracted to Dani), Hernando is probably bisexual. But sexuality is really fluid in this show. Anyways, they are confirmed to be a family with multiple sex scenes, kisses and dances. They are also happy, alive and together
Lantis/Hikaru/Eagle - Magic Knight Rayearth
As far as I am aware they are only confirmed and explicit canon the manga. And the manga is from the 90s so the poly relationship has some flaws but they are happy, together and alive in the end. Hikaru confesses in the manga she wants to marry both Eagle and Lantis
Miranda/Thomas/Flint - Black sails
Again a case of: nobody knows. Miranda and Thomas are married. They are having, as confirmed in the show, an open relationship. And Miranda loves Thomas. And Thomas and Flint are in love, while Flint also sleeps with Miranda. Sadly they are only in season 2. One of them dies, but the other two come back together in the end and are really happy and really in love.
Honorable mentions
Here I am mentioning shows I have not watched (yet) but that contain poly relationships in the main cast. So there can be some errors, feel free to correct me
Gossip girl - the reboot
I am really not aware how well gossip girl is writing poly relationships (no offense) but by the end of season 1 they are together and happy. If there is a season 2, Let us hope they stay together.
Professor marston and the wonder women
The movie is about the writer who invinted Wonder Woman. He was in a poly relatinship with two women back then which is also shown in the movie. One of them dies in the end (which you can not change, considering it is based on a real life person) but they are getting their happy end nevertheless.
Castlevania
Appearntly it is heavily implied that they are loving eachother, two of them are also in a relationship but it is never a 100% confirmed in the show itself. Not long ago Netflix made the tweet below so they are still kinda confirmed to be poly? I have no knowledge what the writers are saying about the topic.
Freeform - Siren
The poly relationship is already established in season 1. And everything was just fine until the writers decided to let them split up for the drama. And then the show was cancelled. So just stop after season 2. and this is what they cancelled Shadowhunters for?!
You me her
I seriously have no clue. Apparently this show has some problems when it comes to the poly relationship and it is a bumpy road but they are happy and together in the end.
Minor Poly Ships
Newly added here - to make the post even longer - I decided to add poly ships that are formed by side characters but still there for a long period of time.
The Wheel of time
Alanna has formed a poly relationship with her two male warders. It is explicit shown that the two male warders - Maksim and Ihovn - are also in love with eachother and we see them cuddeling together before they get up with Alanna to have sex with eachother… which is not shown btw. The relationship of the three is openly discussed by the other characters. It is also mentioned that Alanna would be more then happy to greet even more people in her polycule. While we see them together on screen multiple times over the course of multiple episodes, we sadly do not have good shot or promo pic of all of them together, so I am taking the BTS pic of the actors. Remeber: They are backgrund characters. By the end of season 1 they are alive and still together.
Ah! Nice to see a post about poly rep, here are some additions which are not tv/movie
Books:
Ive read The Dark Artifices (3rd series in shadowhunters chronicles) which is an urban fantasy about hunting demons and has 3 suporting characters who are in a relationship (Cristina/Mark/Kieran), i love them a lot
Theres also To be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers which is a really beautiful book about space exploration where all 4 main chars are together, one of them is trans and one of them is ace as well!!
I recommed checking out lgbtqreads for more books! If u scroll down there is a section for poly rep
I know the penumbra podcast in second citadel storyline which is high fantasy with knights and magical creatures and has Rilla, Arum and Damien, im not fully caught up but Im sure they are well :) I also know that Moonbase Theta Out, which is about a well base on moon, has polyam rep but its been a while since i listened to that one
I really love Muted which is urban fantasy with witches and has Camille, Nyra and Dendro who are very much in love i would die for them, it can be found on webtoons :)! Theres also Always Human (scifi) where one of the main chars parents are in polyam relationship, they are not much in the story but wanted to mention it! Also on webtoons
Also theres this list, the sites been dead since 2020 and they tag all rep in comics even if its minor from my experience but u might find some good ones there
When your partner(s) notice you aren’t yourself and ask you if you’re alright, please don’t insist that you are when you’re really not. They know you’re not, that’s why they’re asking. Let them be there to support and help you. That’s a benefit of poly: having a multi-person support system.
You’re not burdening them, especially if they were the ones who asked you in the first place. If you can’t say it (which often is the case for me, personally), write it. Send an email. Be upfront and tell them it’s easier for you to write your feelings. If you can’t put your feelings into words, spoken or written, just tell them you know you’re not yourself but just don’t have the words to describe it. On that note, if you’re not ready to talk about it, tell them that. Just don’t swear up and down you’re great when you’re not.
When your partner(s) know you’re not yourself and you continue promising that you’re good, you leave them wondering what’s really up; then they’re not ok…and now, no one’s ok.
I can’t say it enough: honesty and communication are paramount in polyamory.
Great story about a polyamorous family. I admire how the writer bravely came out to her conservative religious community, family, and friends.
There are many days I want to sing it from the rooftops to everyone about our relationship, but I don’t for fear of what other people will say/think. I know, I know…I shouldn’t give a shit what other people think. I’m hoping that society continues to evolve in its acceptance of what’s “ok” and I can someday live openly and have it just be a normal thing.
I’m super happy that all 4 of our collective kids are so comfortable with our poly relationship. Each set of kids refer to each set of partners as step parents. It’s truly an amazing relationship and makes my heart all gushy.
But….that doesn’t mean I want to hang out with them at OURbar.
OUR bar, as I’ve written about before, is the local dive gay bar that we frequent waaaaaay too often. 3 of the 4 kids are 21+. The 4th is 19. Doesn’t matter. They all want to hang out with us at OURbar. W. T. F. ????
Like, did you want to hang out with your parents when you were 19-23? I know I sure the hell didn’t!
And it’s not just dropping by for A drink. It’s “hey parents/step parents…are you headed to THE bar tonight? Because we’re going to come and sit at YOUR table and hang out ALL fucking night with YOU!!” And if we’re not there, they go anyway. Without us. Our kid calls Ross’ and Rachel’s kid to meet him to hang out at our bar on our off nights.
It’s a weird situation. We want the kids to be comfortable…but, fuck. You all are 21 (except for one, but that doesn’t deter her from having soda or a discrete drink at our bar with us)…don’t y’all have your own friends with which you want to go to your OWN damn bar? We’ve said exactly that to all of them. They look at us all dumbfounded.
When one of you has a little way too much to drink, you have a group of caretakers to rally around and offer to hold your hair back.
Chandler was not in good form tonight. While it was unintentional on his part, I was still embarrassed (3 years into this, no less) for Rachel to see this. However, she sincerely said she’d totally go home with him and “metaphorically hold his hair back.” I spared her, held his metaphorical hair back, and tucked him in bed.
Last Tuesday was 3 years since the swinger event where we met Ross and Rachel. We knew we liked them, but we had no idea it would lead us here.
I know I’ve written about the start of our 4some before. No one was looking for a relationship, this was casual fun only, yadda, yadda. Yet…here we are.
To mark the day, we went out for a nice dinner, where we reminisced over good food and drinks about how we met, what we were thinking, 1st dates (I was so nervous!!), original messages (so fun to go back and read them), and the early days. We ended the date by spending the night together.
The 4 of us have shared concerts, float trips, vacations, family dinners with the kids, nights at the dive bar, moves, losses, fears, a whole list of firsts, tears of laughter, and tears of sadness. I can’t wait to share even more, and, hopefully, that includes the rest of my life.
There were a lot of pieces that had to fall into place to facilitate our coming together. Little things like where we sat at the M&G, to big things like Chandler’s and my timing on re-entering the LS and the fateful Halloween party that spurred Ross and Rachel to explore the LS. I’m not a fate and destiny kind of girl, but did the stars just align perfectly? I stole borrowed the term from someone else, but I like to refer to March 19 as our “universary;” the day the universe shifted for each of the 4 of us.
I can’t imagine our life without Ross and Rachel. We had a great life before, but they just make it that much fuller and more vibrant. They are our lovers, our partners in crime, our best friends. They are our people.
It was three years ago today that Zelda and I met Willow and Sirius. It was at a meet and greet. The theme that night was 70s night so I was in a shiny shirt and a bad wig.
At some point in the night, Zelda and I became separated. I ended up by the bar talking to this cute girl with long brown hair and beautiful eyes. I looked around and spotted Zelda talking with a guy.
I ended up talking with Willow for a good part of the night. There was maybe a kiss or two.
I mentioned that I wanted to introduce her to my wife so I pulled her over to the table. And Willow pointed out that my wife was talking to her husband.
The four of us talked for a bit longer. It was getting late and they needed to head home. We spent about 30 extra minutes saying goodbye.
It was Willow who messaged me first. A fact that she never let’s me forget.
We started messaging and eventually went out together. I’ve blogged about that date.
And here we are three years later. Never happier.
We weren’t looking to get involved in anything long term. None of us were. But it just happened that way.
I love my people.
I’d never messaged anyone first before that, and never since that. There was only one person worth that leap of faith. And, God, was it ever worth it. I love my people, too.
