#one of my goals for this year was to read more

[phaedraismyusername]

Seeing as this list is being shared around again I just wanted to add on a few more I've read since then that I'd highly recommend

Mapping the Interior by Stephen Graham Jones

This little 100ish page novella was my very first read of the year and I truly could not have started with better. It follows a 15 year old Native American boy who believes he sees his dead father walk through their house one night and his mission to recreate the experience to find answers. It's an exploration of grief and trauma, and whether or not these cycles can be broken

A Mind Spread Out On the Ground by Alicia Elliott

This is a nonfiction book about the authors life experiences as she is reflecting on what it means to be Indigenous in North America. She covers every aspect of life including race, colonialism, love, identity, health, politics, parenthood, etc. but for me it was her musings on mental health, especially depression, and how not having the 'right' language to communicate what's wrong can lead to catastrophic deterioration and dehumanisation when living with your oppressor that just blew me away.

Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris

This weird little story follows Rita as she spends a week at a secluded pondside cabin with the goal of completing her current art series when things start to take a graphic turn. It's about grief, identity, family, and cultural bonds and how you can be left behind when those bonds break. I was sold on this book in just one word - *Swampcore*

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

If you can then please get ahold of the audiobook version of this so you can listen to the authors dulcet tones as she introduces you to her lifes passion as a botanist and just fills you up with hope and wonder and gives you the language to understand and celebrate the natural world and the knowledge of how you can play a positive role in it.

I Was a Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

One of my favourite reads of 2024. This a slow, meandering stream of consciousness style story about a teenage boy in Texas in the 80s who finds himself at the centre of a slasher killing spree that's targeting his high school classmates. The way the author mythologises the slasher genre and moulds it into a possessing spirit hellbent on revenge is just so good and so original. I genuinely don't think I've ever read anything like it.

This year some of my favourite books I read were written by indigenous American authors and I just wanted to shout out a couple that I fell in love with

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Horror being my second most read genre, I did not think books could still get under my skin the way this one did lol. It follows four Blackfoot men who are seemingly being hunted by a vengeful... something... years after a fateful hunting trip that happened just before they went their separate ways. The horror, the dread, the something... pure nightmare fuel 10/10

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice

An apocalyptic novel following an isolated Anishinaabe community in the far north who lose contact with the outside world. When two of their young men return from their college with dire news, they set about planning on how to survive the winter, but when outsiders follow, lines are drawn in the community that might doom them all. This book is all dread all the time, the use of dreams and the inevitability of conflict weighs heavy til the very end. An excellent apocalypse story if you're into that kind of thing.

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

This book follows Jade, a deeply troubled mixed race teenager with a shitty homelife who's *obsessed* with slasher movies. When she finds evidence that there's a killer running about her soon-to-be gentrified small town, she weaponises that knowledge to predict what's going to happen next. I don't think this book will work for most people, it's a little stream of consciousness, Jade's head is frequently a very difficult place to be in, but by the last page I had so much love for her as a character and the emotional rollercoaster she's on that I had to mention it here.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Taking a bit of a left turn but this charming YA murder mystery really stuck with me this year. Elatsoe is a teenage girl living in an America where myths, monsters, and magic are all real every day occurrences. When her cousin dies mysteriously with no witnesses, she decides to do whatever she can, including using her ability to raise the spirits of dead animals, to solve the case. The worldbuilding was just really fun in this one, but the Native American myths and influence were the shining star for me, and the asexual rep was refreshing to see in a YA book too tbh

Split Tooth by Tanya Tagaq

The audiobook, the audiobook, the audiobook!!!! Also the physical book because formatting and illustrations, but the audiobook!!! Tanya Tagaq is an Inuit throat singer, and this novel is a genre blending of 20 years worth of the authors journal entries, poetry, and short stories, that culminates in a truly unique story about a young girl surviving her teenage years in a small tundra town in the 70s. It is sad and beautiful and hard but an experience like nothing else I read this year.

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can��t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[lurkingshan]

Spare Me Your Mercy, Love in the Big City, and the Trap of Pursuing Mainstream Popularity for Queer Art

I read this excellent post by @waitmyturtles yesterday tackling the frustrating failures of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show that was one of my most anticipated of the year, but that ended up so lost in its own confusing blend of sauces that I didn't even finish it. I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

Because here's the thing about great queer art—it's almost never popular with mainstream audiences, especially in socially conservative countries. High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives. For an illustration of this, look no further than another highly anticipated queer drama of this year in Love in the Big City. Easily the queerest show to ever get made and aired on Korean television, it drew major protests before it even started, forcing the production to release it quickly in one go to ensure it would reach audiences. And why were those conservative groups so afraid of this little old drama? Because even just in its trailer and promotional materials, it was clear this was no sanitized, G-rated drama created to make gay people seem more palatable to the masses (unlike the film version with the same name, which not coincidentally has been much more warmly received by the Korean media establishment). This show was real, and raw, and QUEER in a way that terrified those bigots, because they know one of the most important ways the oppressed can advocate for themselves is by demonstrating their humanity through art. 

Which brings me back to turtles’ post, and the importance of separating the concerns of art and commerce when discussing the different ways media can succeed. This is something I had some good dialogue about with @biochemjess @pharawee @clairedaring @flowerbeasblog and turtles (and even more of you in the tags) when I was still watching and posting about Spare Me Your Mercy. I originally posted to unpack why the show was flopping narratively, which turned into a discussion of the fact that it was getting good ratings from the domestic audience despite this. And while I appreciated understanding how the show is landing with its priority audience, for me, it’s very important to keep a distinction between these two different kinds of success. Especially in discussions of queer art, and especially for a show whose creators explicitly said they were intentionally downplaying the queer romance part of the queer romance ( @benkaben) to avoid “distracting” from their other messaging goals. 

The important thing to keep in mind is that for queer stories, when they are popular with a mainstream audience it’s often because they are stripping any authenticity from the representation of queer people. Turtles addressed this well in her review of 2gether when she posited that part of the reason it was such a phenomenon in conservative Asian countries (aside from the timing of its release in the early days of the global pandemic), was because its presentation of queerness was mostly unrecognizable to real queer people, stripped of any true notion of queer sexuality or the realities of homophobia. Compare the reception of The Miracle of Teddy Bear—a show that absolutely refused to make its central queer character palatable for a mainstream audience, because the fact that he wasn’t palatable was the point—to that of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show whose creators chose to censor their own story. The ugly truth is that when we’re talking about queer dramas, the best and most vital shows are pretty much anathema to mainstream ratings success.

The impulse to pursue mainstream popularity and commercial success for queer art inevitably leads to watering down queer stories ( @twig-tea) to make them more light, comfortable and familiar to a majority heterosexual and socially conservative audience. And yes, of course, some degree of commercial success is necessary for queer art to get made in the first place. This is how the Thai BL market took off, by recognizing that there was an audience beyond queer people who were open to watching stories about boys falling in love, as long as it didn’t get too real. But there is a careful line to walk here, and it’s so important not to confuse popularity with artistic merit. Queer people won’t win liberation by self-censoring queer media to make it more palatable for mainstream audiences. We win when we make queer art so good and so honest that the mainstream is forced to acknowledge it. We win by challenging the mainstream perspective on queer people and how they should behave, not by catering to it. As @bengiyo said in a completely different discourse, the question is not whether the audience can love queer characters whose actual queerness is suppressed for their comfort. That kind of respectability politics is old hat and it never fucking gets us anywhere. The real question he posed is this: “Do you love us when we’re ugly, when we’re sick, when we’re old, when we’re being mean or catty?”

Which is why a show like Love in the Big City ultimately won by being so excellent, and so true, and so undeniable, that it broke through with audiences around the world and achieved some measure of recognition in spite of how very unpalatable it was to its domestic audience. Unlike Spare Me Your Mercy, this show did not get amazing domestic ratings, but its message was heard far beyond those who watched it on Korean television. And that is the point. Making authentic art that advances the struggle of queer people and making nominally queer art that can achieve mainstream popularity are completely different pursuits, and we must keep that in mind when we discuss whether and how these shows succeeded or failed. And while both must exist in a healthy media ecosystem, one will always be more vital for the survival of queer people than the other. 

[penwiper26]

Present tense has been a mainstay of literary fiction for, I'd say the past 50 years -- which is not to say that it's the only or most common choice, just that particular schools of writers have been going to present tense for a sense of dramatic immediacy for the past generation or so.

I confess I have found it an annoying trend, especially as it developed a mirroring popularity in fanfiction at the exact same time that I was developing my own style which is, well, quite different though maybe more traditional.

Tense is an inextricable part of perspective, what we usually call POV; I have encountered other writers who think that first person POV and third person POV should have the same goal -- that is, to exclude the author's voice as absolutely as possible and have the character's perspective occupy the narrative space all the way to the margins. This is just as dogmatic a view as past ideas that serious writing needed to have a stable and authoritative narrator, and in my experience, it seems even more dogmatic, which has added to my frustration. I think you can write vivid and true-to-life characters without using skin-tight third person POV, and it's sad to me that you can't write an omni narrative like Richard Adams anymore and expect to be taken seriously. I mean, I fully acknowledge that this is me shaking my cane at the sky, but literally so much contemporary fiction is written in first person/tight-third POV and present tense that I think it's developing new writers into thinking that all other kinds of perspective are obsolete in the way that technology becomes obsolete.

In any case, I have stubbornly stuck to what I call wide-angle third person POV -- not really omni, but not dedicated to establishing one character's voice as exclusive to any other shades of perspective -- and will use present tense for certain effects. But I use present tense sparingly for the most part. It's like planting mint, you just want it for your summer iced tea and before you know it it's taking over the whole chronology and you find it among the dahlias or something.

(Since English as a language has a very analytic tense system -- verbs are present tense and modify to a simple past, and all future or progressive tenses are either past or present tense with different helping verbs (when you stop to think about it, how weird is it that "will have been eating" is a single future-tense verb conjugation?) -- I wonder if it's less fraught to choose a narrative tense in more synthetic (in the linguistic sense) languages. But I'm not as fluent in other languages as I'd like to be and can't report on the writing there.)

Robert Alter's The Pleasures of Reading in an Ideological Age has a great chapter on perspective, and I credit it for a lot of my understanding of how writers evoke narrative nuance. I don't share Alter's opinions about everything, but as a book about reading it's a great resource for writers!

I am thinking about fan fiction writers, but anyone who writes any kind of fiction can answer. (As far as I’m aware, non-fiction is usually written in the past tense - but if I’m wrong do let me know!)

If you like, explain why in the tags!

When I was young I gathered that all serious works of fiction were written in the past tense (past tense third person to be precise) so that is what i did when I started writing. However my mind was blown by the power and immediacy of Margaret Atwood writing in the present tense so I started to experiment with it myself, and now i strongly favour it. I get the impression that past is still the most commonly used, but I’m prepared to be surprised!

Please share!

[alchemistc]

43. undone if it speaks to you <3

Getting back to these because I have a lot of fleeting half ideas I need to get rid of to focus on the Cap Buck series. This once again got longer than I meant it to so happy new year.

It takes Eddie about half an hour to realize Buck and Tommy are actually having a drawn out argument, right here in public, instead of just bickering the way he's so used to.

It's...strange.

The thing is he's always seen Tommy with a lid on it - he projects a certain image in a public, and a slightly less restrained image in private, and Eddie is absolutely certain the Tommy he knew six months ago would have rather eaten a live scorpion than air his shit out in such a public setting.

He supposes six months into their second at bat and Tommy's a little less concerned about laying a bunt.

It's subtle, is the thing. Eddie has had screaming matches with Buck in very public places before, he knows the usual script. Emotional land mine after emotional land mine exposed to whoever's in hearing distance, no holds barred, knock down, drag out shit. It's probably why it takes him so long to notice, because this is some fucking terrible amalgamation of Buck and Tommy at their worst and he is not a fan.

Hen goes to get another round with a raised brow in Eddie's direction that means she's definitely noticed too and will be taking her damn time getting back.

Chim's too busy staring all moony-eyed at a ready-to-pop Maddie absolutely killing her karaoke song to care when Tommy grimaces and rolls his jaw while Buck whispers something Eddie doesn't quite catch.

Eddie takes a drink. Then another.

He's down to the ice in his rocks glass.

"You aren't seriously trying to argue that projected stats have more weight than a full career, are you?" Tommy asks, and Eddie sort of wants to hit them both, because what? What? This whole thing started when a song reminded Buck that Tommy had once implied he didn't have enough gay experience to really love Tommy. Or. That was the gist, according to Buck. Famously not a reliable narrator in high emotion moments, but Tommy's never outright denied it, to Eddie's knowledge.

"I'm just saying, Gretzky's goal record is gone, so how can you say people with a decade of play left in them can't be in the conversation to surpass him? Statistically -."

Tommy's eyes glint. He looks mad.

When he stands from his seat, Buck throws both arms in the air. "Yeah, walk away," he spits, and Tommy, two steps towards the restroom already, spins on his heel with clenched fists.

Eddie has a sudden, clarifying memory of Buck reading off the statistics for couples who make it past the first six months. First year. First two, and five. Statistics for couples who took a break. Statistics for gay men, specifically, when he realized his sample size was skewed too straight.

Jesus Christ, he'd rattled those off to Tommy, too.

"I'm not subjecting Eddie to the shit I have to say to you right now, Evan," Tommy says, jaw clenched, hands digging into his pockets. He rocks back on his heels, tension fucking rolling off of him.

Buck stands too. Makes a sweeping gesture that seems to piss Tommy off more, and then they're both disappearing into the crowd.

Hen sets a new drink down in front of Eddie twenty seconds later.

"Thank you for leaving me to witness that by myself," Eddie manages, with a wry twist to his smile, and Hen grins back.

"Their foreplay sure has kicked it up a notch," she says, and Maddie crinkles her nose as she drops back into the booth beside Chim.

"If Jee hadn't been there they'd have screwed in my bathroom last week, I just know it."

Eddie shakes his head between them. "They - you guys know they were fighting, right?"

Maddie raises a brow at him like he's cute. Like a cute confused little puppy. Oh he hates that.

"Tommy deciding one of them dying was the only way they'd be free of each other has opened up a whole new world of ways for Buck to get his rocks off," Hen intones, like it's obvious. "This is just their flirty bickering turned up to eleven."

Eddie takes about twelve minutes to digest that - just long enough for Hen and Chim to get a duet in, long enough for him to drain another drink, long enough for Maddie to decide the baby's officially tapped out for the night, long enough for Chim to grab their jackets and toss a few bills on the table before he's herding his wife out the door.

Tommy rounds the corner and settles back into his seat looking decidedly more relaxed. There's at least one less button hooked on the flannel he's been wearing all night. It takes Eddie a second to register that his face is a little dewy, like he'd recently splashed water on it.

Hen makes a face a second before Eddie gets it.

"Oh come on, man."

Tommy's lips twist into a grin, and he yelps when Hen kicks out at him under the table. "Low hanging fruit, Kinard."

"I mean, one of us did," Tommy manages with a shrug, and only winces at the second kick.

Buck slides in next to him with a fresh beer for each of them and slaps a hand high on Tommy's thigh. Possessive. Still clearly a little riled.

"Yep, I'm out," Hen murmurs, and Eddie scrambles after her.

[myimaginedcorner]

SCALES OF JUSTICE - GAME AVAILABLE ON HG AND STEAM!!

Hello my dear readers,

WE DID IT! I wrote a book. A full book! It's now available on the Hosted Games app, with 600k words waiting to entertain you on a morning, afternoon, evening, or night when you decide to submerge yourself into a world of fantasy and adventure!

You also can play the game on Steam! Here's the link -> https://store.steampowered.com/app/3089710/Scales_of_Justice/

I am so, so grateful to everyone who has been here for me during these past 3 years. What began as a shy attempt at dreaming has grown into a marvelous project that taught me so much, brought me so many new experiences and skills, and is going to end with my first publication as an author. I cannot be more grateful and excited. I hope this is only the beginning of an amazing journey.

Rather, I know this is one. This is not the end!

DESCRIPTION:

Journey into the magical world of Therania, a place where heroism and villainy are paths of Fate that can be foreseen in one’s destiny. Join forces with four eccentric individuals with puzzling goals and fight, plan, persuade or run, as you attempt to get a grip on your own legacy!

Scales of Justice is a 600,000-word interactive novel, the first volume in a planned series by Julia Owl. It's entirely text-based–without graphics or sound effects–and fueled by the vast, unstoppable power of your imagination.

Rumours circulate the streets of Capital. Rumours of an artefact, as dangerous and powerful as one can only fear. Some claim it’s capable of twisting one’s true nature, shaping it much to the owner’s whim; others say that it can identify a soul’s essence, putting the Ritual of Fate in a tight spot for the first time in centuries. The mage who made it is unknown; whispers in shadows only talk about a labyrinth, set somewhere hidden to protect its power. Many want to get it; many others, to destroy it. You? You are none of those–you just want to live.

And yet, your (almost) safe and peaceful life as a humble adventurer is threatened by a letter with today’s date on it, written in your mother’s hand…

Play as male, female or nonbinary; gay, straight, bisexual, or asexual.

Meet four distinct characters, with stories and ideals that highly differ from one another: a runaway heir, a rogue knight, a lost alien, and a foreign leader. Romance, befriend or doom them, and watch their tales shape your own.

Choose one of the three species available and discover your own worldview and the world's view of you. What is it like to be a human, a half-elf, or a half-satyr in this vast realm?

Fight, conjure, heal, plan, or persuade–choose your path and deal with trouble in your own way.

Buy yourself a horse! You want one, don’t you?

Learn, think, doubt, conclude. This world has a pre-written destiny – will you abide by it or challenge it? Who are you, and who will you become?

Who is worthy of holding the scales?

Content Warning: This piece of interactive fiction was not written with children in mind. The story contains mature themes and scenes of violence, including cult ceremonites, kidnapping, and fighting.

USEFUL LINKS:

If you want to know a little more about this project and read chapters 1-5, I'll leave the link to the game here -> https://dashingdon.com/play/myimaginedcorner/scales-of-justice/mygame/

If you want to discuss anything on CoG's forum, I'll leave the link for SoJ here:

- WIP Thread -> https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/wip-scales-of-justice-new-project-announcement-and-demo-release/101088/16

- Official Release Thread -> https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/scales-of-justice-will-you-challenge-fate-or-follow-it/163500

If you want to send me a more extensive feedback, here's my email -> feedbackscalesofjustice@gmail.com

[burr-ell]

Given your thoughts on the so called “status quo” of late Campaign 3 (huge agree), curious what you think about the claim that C3 is showcasing a story critiquing colonialism and imperialism through the gods? I personally don’t think that the narrative around the gods that we’ve been given lends well to that reading, at least not as a strong criticism of colonization because the gods are shown to be more akin to refugees in the opening of Downfall and cannot conceivably be called colonizers of mortals since they are the ones who created mortals in the first place.

Also if the argument for releasing Predathos is “the gods are colonizers because they aren’t from Exandria and took it over from the Titans and Primordials” letting another, “bigger fish” colonizer loose to chase them off doesn’t seem like the best solution to that tbh.

I’ll also be honest that I don’t think CR as an entirely white American main cast are set up to best carefully/thoughtfully deal with the concept of colonialism in their games (case in point: the first C3 intro, which would ring even weirder if C3 was meant to critique that from the beginning since Matt has supposedly been planning this plot for years).

- @exandrian-moonlight

So I think it's worth noting that because this is a longform improvisational medium, the themes aren't necessarily set out from the beginning and can grow organically over time. We see that in Vox Machina's relationship with power and grief and legacy, and the Mighty Nein's relationship with family and duty; neither Matt nor the cast necessarily intended those to be explored from the beginning, but they found a lot to work with in those spaces. So it's not outside the realm of possibility that Matt and the players will see a theme there that wasn't intended at the beginning. And because these are people, who are perfectly capable of having views I disagree with, it's also not outside of the realm of possibility that the cast will view Campaign 3 as some kind of critique of colonialism after all is said and done, and if so, I have no intention to change my view that it's a bad one.

Other people can and have talked about why the story of the gods as colonizers doesn't really work even out the gate, so I'm not going to get into it myself, but I will maintain the argument I've made in the past: if this is meant to be something about colonialism, what are the actionable steps? Like, in the real world, there are initiatives taken by indigenous peoples and advocacy groups (Land Back, IWGIA, to name only two of thousands) with clear, expressed goals and policy proposals. What, exactly, is the plan once we get rid of the gods? What do we do for the Primordials? The reason the gods destroyed or sealed the Primordials and the Ashari guard the elemental planes is that the Primordials kill all the mortals, so...do we just stop guarding the elemental planes? Let the elementals run amok and kill everyone?

Also, and this gets at your last point: have we maybe considered that it's at least a little bit weird to compare real-world colonized peoples to violent embodiments of elemental chaos who want to kill all mortals?

[xxxstraightfromtheheartxxx]

Read my tags first, ran out of space.

Note: I change my mind a few times throughout this text post, what I began with is not entirely what I ended with. And I’m not even sure of the ‘conclusion’ I got to. However I’m too tired to try and figure the rest out about it right now. Might change this post later when I have made up my mind or got more questions about it. Heads up! Spelling- and other mistakes in writing, were made. Frequently.

I know my tags make me a hypocrite and that’s one of the judgemental thought processes I’ve been fighting/growing against most for a while now.

I expect people to think similarly to me about this and that’s not within my right, they don’t owe me anything for the choice I decided to make and put the hard work in for. That I’ve suffered for it and for the patience I’ve had to bring up towards others being judgemental and having prejudices they didn’t fight within themselves. The frustration I keep feeling every time I have to explain to other adults how to respect accept and see minorities or marginalised groups as equal in worth to themselves. It’s so tiring, and I’m just white, I can’t imagine what it must be like to try and have these conversations to protect yourself and your family and friends and loved ones over and over again whilst still experiencing racist comments assumptions treatment behaviour bullying exclusion exploitation… through systemic racism, racist communities,through so many facets of their lives.

I feel like I’ve been shouting for equality. Not sure if that’s the best most respectful word for it in english, in my language literally translated our word means ‘equally worthy”. And to me that means that from birth we should all be treated with the same amount of respect love and acceptance. It’s only society, nurture that causes this inequality to exist, that not only allows but encourages prejudices and othering for power. Shouting at people who seemingly just refuse to open their eyes, minds and hearts and keep humanity from growing into healthier behavioural patterns in the future. They refuses to put in more effort to try our best to avoid wars, make the idea of hurting another person out of anything other than self defence, be heavily rejected, punished. Instead of not saving each other out of fear for economic and political threats to our own habitants and countries. To be unified so firmly by the absolute belief that violence is wrong, that those fears wouldn’t even be an issue because we’re all know all the other countries will still have our backs and we’d be able to function without the country that’s trying to start or continue a war, while only having to put in mild effort to be entirely independent from the threatening county, as humanity instead of as “individual countries”. It would cut the county/group at war of their resources entirely, which would endanger them to much to be able to actually be able to hold out being at war and making an actual big difference in the big picture of our common humanity. I know there are many weapons that could destroy so many at the same time, yet they would be poisoning the ground they so gladly wish to live on. (Ofcourse this is an ideal that is almost utopian).

This is the goal I thought we were all collectively working towards throughout our entire lives. To eventually be able to all come together in the far away future. All of the warmhearted people in the world.

And therefore we have to start within our small circle of influence and be open to try and learn to understand and respect each other with our differences and similarities, To expect people to be good and ourselves to put effort in it.

However completely swerved away from my original point. But it is the root of that frustration, hurt, disappointment and envy I experience when I see or hear or feel negative judgement .

People have been calling me stern and too strict and rigid in thought more in the last 4 years. It’s because I’ve been responding to prejudices and discriminatory behaviour and ideas verbally, and I have to admit about 50% of the time quite hard, not disrespectful, but clear. I’ve been setting boundaries over what way there can be spoken about others and myself with me. This week I even threatened to leave the room and wouldn’t continue conversing with them if they didn’t then stop casually using the n-word, while knowing it is wrong and hurtful and what my opinion and feeling was towards it. They called my stern and frowned and sighed but at least could bring it up not to say it with me around anymore. I know I haven’t changed their behaviour without my presence this way and it saddens me to feel them rejecting that part of myself that’s at the core of me. My moral core believe of equality.

When people won’t widen their view for one minority it makes me feel unsafe as part of multiple other minorities. I’m a queer womxn with persistent mental health issues, who isn’t able to work because of it and I’m neurodivergent and have some invisible fysical issues (I have loads of allergies which used to give me big rashes of eczema in my envoys and knees and later hands and feet, it has improved a lot, the amount of allergies keeps expanding though) ( I have a very small amount of energy compared to most people my age because of having to put in too much effort as a child and teen) to take care of others and secretly fighting feelings of depression). I’m lucky to be middle-class, white and have affordable healthcare here. All of these other aspects have made life harder for me throughout my entire life. Yet others have mostly blamed me and pestered me, excluded and avoided me for my inabilities and difference, including the inability to l love men.

It feels unfair that I try so hard to be accepting, understand and respectful of others, and not get the same amount of effort and care back… which is hypocrite of me, because the people I want to make the biggest changes never asked me to do all that. And while their lives are often so much easier specifically on the those societal aspects, does that make them owe me that effort back?

I feel like yes, they should, because they have more space for it, for questioning their prejudices than us. Because of the privileges of the main beliefs in their society, they didn’t have to lift a finger for throughout their entire lives. For all of the freedom and respect they’ve just got thrown in their laps, that took up so much of our lives for us to assemble a resemblance to their quality of life.

(Many people who have to fight for their lives daily, do not have that time or space so they only get to grow slower and are part of minority or marginalised groups as well. Bc evidently their is a lot of prejudice within those groups towards the other groups who are also being pressed down.)

I don’t know if I still think it’s hypocrite of me to expect people to put effort in being good. I don’t think so. The length they are able to go through to make those improvements however, I should bare in mind stronger again, like I used to.

If I give up on following my moral compass on this, I’ll never be the person I hope to be one day. I do feel like I deserve to give myself a break and be forgiving about those negative thoughts because they come from a desire for righteousness and good. Recognise, reject, correct, forgive and trust that I’ll do better next time because it is what I truly want to in the long run. I show myself to not always respond and to better pick my battles, so I can persevere and rebuild my energy for when I can make a bigger impact In the braided context or my own. However when I notice bad behaviour or judgement towards others, I do use little parts of it to give them a correcting look or to speak up for someone else or recently even for myself.

Totally did not see this rant coming!!

I knew this theme has been more at the front of my mind again recently and that I’ve been prickly about it, yet I hasn’t reflected on its origin as deeply as I did just now. So here, little amount of people this will reach, have some personal information from my brain and my heart.

.

I’ve been typing this for so long and my attention span has loosened throughout writing. I don’t supposes I’ve managed to make everything clear, I got more and more tired and created some weird sentence structures and maybe grammar and def phrasing to try to get my point through or at least comprehended.

Don’t come at me about the war part, I know it is unrealistic to achieve anything like that in our lifetimes.

Yet I’m holding onto this dream for dear life. Otherwise what is there? To grow towards, to live for? It all comes to recognising, appreciating, sharing and maintaining the good there is now and nurturing the good to come.

The way you change your immediate reactions to things is that you catch yourself having an uncharitable/bigoted/overly judgmental thought and you catch it and replace it and then you do that a hundred times a day for your whole life and eventually one day like five years later you realize that you think differently now and you’ll always be working on something but that’s how life goes and that’s fine.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

2025 Anticipated Book Releases

My reading goal for this year is the same for last year in that I want to read 70 books! And hopefully a few more nonfiction, as always. BUT my main 2025 New Years Resolution for reading is to read less broadly. I read very broadly last year which was good, but it kind of made me sad in the sense I wasn't reading as many books that are "for me." So! More fantasy this year.

January

Water Moon by Samantha Sotto Yambao (Jan 14th): Set in a pawnshop where people can sell their regrets and past choices. I am always a sucker for a slower magical realism story when done well.

Breath of the Dragon by Fonda Lee and Shannon Lee (Jan 7th): I usually strictly avoid YA at this point but adore Fonda Lee so I'll be reading everything she writes. This is an Asian-inspired fantasy work with dragons.

The Good Mother Myth: Unlearning Our Bad Ideas About How to Be a Good Mom by Nancy Reddy (Jan 25): I am always drawn to gender dynamics that are a little more invisible and have thought there is some absurdity to the idea it's "always the mother's fault." A nonfiction on socially constructed motherhood.

February

A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett (Feb 6th): !!! Probably my most anticipated read. The Tainted Cup was such a breath of fresh air in fantasy last year and the combination of epic fantasy and fun characters was perfect for me personally. This should me another murder mystery and I can't wait.

Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales (Emily Wilde 3) by Heather Fawcett (Feb 11th): I have already read this since I got an ARC but I did adore the ending! This installment started quiet slowly but ended on a much more high fantasy note than I expected in a good way.

March

Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green (March 18): I was surprised by how much I enjoyed John Green's nonfiction essay collection since I found his fiction a little rote. But his essay collection had a bittersweet thoughtfulness I really appreciated. As such, I am very interested in his next nonfiction work.

April

Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry (April 25th): I am among the masses that have followed Emily Henry ever since I read "Book Lovers" and discovered her dialogue. Her work can get a little repetitive after a point, but this had such an interesting premise of two writers competing to write the biography of a reclusive famous author. I'm seated.

Authority by Andrea Long Chu (April 8th): An essay collection on the nature of authority in a world where "everyone thinks they know everything." I am fascinated by this topic.

May

My Friends by Fredrik Backman

Fredrik Backman is one of my authors. I read A Man Called Ove at such a challenging time in my life that it hit like a freight train and I've been following Backman's work ever since. I love when things hurt nicely--and a book about friendship from Backman? I am ready to hurt nicely.

OTHERS

Hemlock and Silver by T Kingfisher, a Snow White retelling (!!! another one of my authors, I adore Kingfisher)

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by Victoria E. Schwab (I've always been lukewarm on Schwab, but toxic lesbian vampires has my damn ears perked)

You Didn't Hear This From Me: (Mostly) True Notes on Gossip by Kelsey McKinney (I LOVE the Normal Gossip podcast and will be here for this)

------------

If there are any books you think I'll like, lmk! I'm always on the look out for stuff like Jade City or Naomi Novik's work.

[trustmypoison]

LMLY - Act Two

Choi Y/N hasn’t seen her long lost best friend Yoon Jeonghan in four years and doesn’t even recognize at first him when paramedics roll him into the OR after a motorcycle accident during her shift. She kind of expects to go back being total strangers as soon as he’s discharged, but Seungcheol has something to say about that when he asks them to be Best Man and Maid of Honor for his wedding. 

You can find the masterlist here.

LMLY is the sequel to Calico. You don’t need to read Calico to follow along with most of this story, but it will make things more enjoyable if you do. 

Genres: fluff; angst; smut; best friends to strangers to lovers; wedding au

Pairing: Jeonghan x female reader

TW/CW: MDNI, contains explicit smut, some tough family dynamics such as divorce, a lot of marriage and wedding talk, mentions of having children, mentions of depression, mentions of manipulative relationships, quite a few details about accidents and subsequent medical procedures and issues. 

A/N: I am not in the medical field, so please forgive any inaccuracies included in this story. 

Word count: 20k

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

The first step according to Byeol and Y/N is to pick a venue and book the date they want. They already have a list that Seungcheol and Jeonghan just kind of skim. Seungcheol doesn’t care where they have the wedding and money isn’t really a problem. The top of their list contains a few churches and a winery locally that interest Byeol, and the two women spend hours pouring over pictures online of each venue. 

Seungcheol mentions a destination wedding and Byeol’s eyes light up, before they dim again. She doesn’t come from money and the idea of splurging like that is something she usually declines outright. Seungcheol struggles to get her to understand that he doesn’t care to spend quite literally any amount on her. He’s struggled lovingly with this for years, gifting her luxury bags and new electronics, and even a car recently. She’d only accepted any of those because he wouldn’t back down and her junky care was becoming dangerous to drive. “Baby, I promise I won’t mind a destination wedding. I just want you to enjoy our wedding, no matter the cost,” Seungcheol insists. 

Byeol pouts and Seungcheol is all over her immediately. Jeonghan wants to tease him for it, but he’s happy that his friend is in love, particularly with someone as kindhearted as Byeol. Byeol has never abused the power that she has over Seungcheol. “I know, but I’ll enjoy our wedding even if we get married in the church down the street. I don’t care about all the frills.” 

“I know you don’t, but just think about it. Put a few ideas on the list at least.”

So that’s how Italy, France, and Greece end up on the list. They’re places that Byeol has never been and would love to visit. Seungcheol bites his tongue to resist the urge to argue that they can just go anytime and it doesn’t have to be a special occasion. 

The following weekend, the four of them visit the local churches for a tour and Byeol admits that it’s not quite what she wants. 

So the weekend after that, they decide to take an overnight trip to the winery. Jeonghan and Y/N are in the back seat again and they make it their goal to annoy Seungcheol until he can’t stand them anymore. Byeol cackles when Seungcheol groans, “Maybe you two should go back to not being friends again. My life was really peaceful then.”

“Not a chance, Cheol,” Jeonghan insists. 

“You’re stuck with us forever,” Y/N adds. Seungcheol turns up the music so he can’t hear them, but Jeonghan can see the small smile he’s wearing in the rearview mirror.

The winery has a bed and breakfast attached to it. It’s small, but it would be enough for the wedding party to stay and get ready at if they rented out the whole place. Y/N and Jeonghan had insisted that they don’t need separate rooms for the single night, so they drop their suitcases in the room and flop on the bed. Well - Y/N flops, but Jeonghan careful lays down because of his sore ribs. 

“This is nice,” Y/N comments dreamily. 

Jeonghan agrees. There’s something old about it’s design but there’s also something cozy about it. There’s a fire place in the room that Jeonghan kind of wants to have a drink in front of later tonight. And the view is nice outside. He actually never wants to leave. “I don’t think she’ll pick it though,” Jeonghan lamented. 

Y/N snorts. “I don’t think so either. She keeps looking at pictures of Greece. I hope you have your passport ready.”

“Well, let’s just enjoy the free trip on Seungcheol’s dime then,” Jeonghan joked sitting up. “Come on, let’s wander around. I can’t just lay around anymore.”

She and Jeonghan take the tour and then sit on the large patio of the bed and breakfast, drinking wine all afternoon. Jeonghan thinks the countryside is good for Y/N. She’s got a bit of that sparkle back when she smiles, shoulders relaxed, and it makes him feel warm inside. He was always worried about her but ever since they’ve become friends again he sees how reserved she’s become. She used to smile so openly and he hasn’t seen it much in the last two months. He’s grinning widely at her as she giggles into her wine glass when Seungcheol and Byeol find them around dinner time. Seungcheol asks, “Are we interrupting something?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at Cheol’s tone, but Y/N seems none the wiser to whatever her brother is implying. “You guys have to try this wine. It’s so good!”

Over dinner, Byeol quietly admits this isn’t quite the place that she had in mind, but they all decide to enjoy the night anyway. After a few too many bottles of wine, the four of them stumble up to their rooms. Y/N and Jeonghan change into their pajamas and sit on the couch with one more bottle of wine to share. The air is cozy as they both drink and watch the fire crackle. 

For a change, it’s Y/N that’s leaning against Jeonghan. He knows if she hadn’t of had so much to drink, she’d be more cautious about his chest, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s a little uncomfortable. She so rarely let her hair down like this before the space they had over the years, and it certainly seems like she doesn’t relax much now. He didn’t want to discourage it when she plopped down next to him, curled up, and leaned close like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. 

“I could get married here,” Y/N said, but her words run together a bit. 

Jeonghan smiles. “I could too. Feel okay?” Y/N nods into his chest, letting out a single hiccup. Jeonghan laughs, taking the wine glass from her to set aside. “Okay, I think it’s time to stop for the night.”

“But it’s good. And I feel good,” her voice adopts a bit of a whine and Jeonghan can’t help but pinch her flushed cheeks. 

“I know, angel. I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow. We have to drive home in the afternoon,” he says, watching as she props her chin on his shoulder. Her eyes are abnormally bright as she blinks at him and her face is so close to his. Still, he keeps looking at her. 

“I guess so,” she finally sighs, then hiccups again, looking around the room. “I really like it here.” 

“Kind of romantic, isn’t it?” Jeonghan teases. He’s sure that’s why she likes it so much. She doesn’t seem interested in pursuing romance anymore but he knows a vibe like this will always be a soft spot for her. 

Y/N gives him a cheesy smile. “Yeah, it’s nice. Don’t you think?” 

Jeonghan thinks he’d agree to anything with the way she’s looking at him right now. It’s so innocent and warm, without an ounce of manipulation like he was used to for the last five years, and he realizes just how much he missed this, or missed her, rather. “It’s nice. Kind of don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

Y/N hums, chin back on his shoulder. “Do you remember when were 16?” 

“You’ll have to be more specific. That was a whole year, angel,” Jeonghan teases the random question. 

She shoves his shoulder lightly before putting her chin down again. “I’m thinking about the stupid marriage pact we made.” 

Jeonghan chuckles. “I’d totally forgotten about that.”

One night, just a few days after she’d been brought back from boarding school, Y/N had witnessed a nasty fight between her mom and dad, specifically about how Y/N’s new stepmom, Nari, was treating her. Her parents’ divorce the year before had shattered her image of love and marriage because it had come out of left field for her. Ultimately, this fight would lead to a change in custody and a bitter relationship between her parents. The animosity was hard for her to stomach because she always saw the best in things, but there was really no positive to the situation. 

That night, she was hiding out at Jeonghan’s because that’s what she did a lot back then. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be with anyone, much less get married. Not if it can end up like that,” she had sighed, rubbing her red eyes. 

Jeonghan was sitting on the floor next to her with their backs against the bed, an arm thrown around her. She rarely cried, but he hated it more than anything. If he held her like this then he didn’t have to look at her and the pangs in his chest weren’t so intense. “That’s not true. You just have to be patient. And love doesn’t have to look like that.”

Y/N had let out a little humph sound. “I don’t know. Can’t I just marry you?” She laughs but it’s a miserable sound. “At least we get each other. I can’t imagine we’d ever be that cruel to one another.”

Jeonghan remembered how his heart had pounded, despite the serious topic. “I guess you could. We could make one of those lame deals where if we’re still single at 30, we’ll just get married.”

Y/N had snorted and Jeonghan had been elated that her mood seemed to lift a bit. “Would you want that? I might hold you up to your end of the bargain in about 15 years.” Her voice is teasing. 

Jeonghan had shrugged though the answer was obvious to him even at 16. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend? Isn’t that ideal?”

Back in the present, Y/N giggles. “Do you regret that now? Time is almost up.”

Jeonghan laughs. “No, why would I regret that? I meant it, who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend?” He can’t forget the irony that he didn’t want to marry Sora just a couple months ago…. But Sora was never his best friend, or really a friend at all. She’d always been his girlfriend and the connection was just not the same. 

Y/N hums. “I don’t know. I don’t have the best track record.” 

“That doesn’t matter to me, Y/N. I told you back then that it didn’t,” Jeonghan admonished. 

Y/N looks at him with wide eyes and he’s transfixed. She’s not subtle about looking down at his lips and he knows he should stop her. But then she’s leaning in and he’s kissing her back immediately. It’s so much better than when they were teenagers and he’d loved that back then too. This kiss lacks the nervousness that the first one years ago did. His hand cups her face and she sighs into the kiss. The feeling and sound makes Jeonghan’s heart race. However, it’s like a bucket of ice water over his head when her tongue swipes at his lips. He pulls away but doesn’t let go of her face yet. She’s gotten the wrong idea and she looks alarmed, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Jeonghan can’t help but try to quell her panic a bit. He hates the wild look in her eyes when she did nothing wrong. “Angel, it’s okay. We’ve just been drinking. That’s all.”

Y/N blinks at him a few times. “That’s all?”

“Yeah, no big deal, I promise.” He says this casually though his heart is still racing and he’s still holding her face. 

“Okay. No big deal,” she echoes, but the sparkle she had earlier is gone and he wishes he knew why. Impulsively, he presses the smallest peck to her cheek and stands up. He puts out the fire in the fire place and helps her into bed, climbing in beside her. She starts snoring softly as soon as her head hits the pillow and Jeonghan hopes they can forget about this in the morning. He wants her sparkle back. 

Byeol had reluctantly pondered the idea of visiting the potential destination wedding locations to aid in her decision making and Seungcheol had practically lunged across the room for his computer to book flights and hotels. Y/N and Jeonghan would be joining them because the soon-to-be newlyweds insisted that they needed their opinion.

Joshua helps Y/N pack the night before Y/N is set to leave. “Another romantic getaway, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrow at her. 

Y/N pelts him with a handful of panties. She’s long over being embarrassed by him seeing them. Not only did they sleep together once upon a time, but he does her laundry all the time anyway. He’s washed most of these pairs just earlier today. They don’t have a lot of secrets now. “It’s for wedding planning, dipshit. Byeol needs to pick a location and she doesn’t want to without visiting them.”

“Oh, I get it. That makes perfect sense. I’m referring to the romantic trip across Europe with your best friend.” 

Joshua’s teasing has been relentless since wedding planning started. Apparently Mingyu and Wonwoo had a lot to say about Y/N and Jeonghan after the celebratory dinner and it had gotten around her friend group. “It’s not romantic. We’re going for Seungcheol and Byeol.” 

“Uh huh. Where are you going again?” Joshua smirks. 

“Venice, Paris, and Mykonos,” Y/N answers shortly, snatching a stack of clothes from Joshua’s hands. 

“AKA some of the most romantic cities in the world. Tell me again, how was the winery?” Joshua is grinning widely and it makes Y/N scoff at him. 

“I hate you. Stop making me feel awkward about it.” 

“What’s awkward about being into your best friend? It’s okay if you are,” Joshua urges and it makes Y/N reel back. 

“Whoa, who said anything like that?”

Joshua nods simply. “You don’t fool me. Something happened at the winery. You’ve been weird ever since.”

“You are so nosy, do you know that?” Y/N snaps though it doesn’t have a lot of heat behind it. 

“I know,” Joshua’s still smiling and it’s starting to get irritating. “I’m just invested in your happiness. Now what, did you guys hook up or something?”

Y/N frowned. “Not quite. And it was probably a mistake anyway.”

“Honey, what was a mistake?” Joshua asks cautiously. He’d really been teasing. He’s surprised that anything happened at all with the way Y/N had been about men over the past 8 years.

Y/N purses her lips. “We had a lot to drink and we kissed. He said it was no big deal when I apologized. See? A mistake.”

“But it bothers you.” Joshua observed. She hated how good he was at that sometimes. She could never get much past him. “Tell me why.”

“It’s a lot to explain…” she mumbles. 

“I have time. Now let me help you before you go spend over a week with him in Europe.”

Y/N huffs and opens her mouth. Somewhere in all the word vomit, it must make some sense because Joshua’s eyes keep getting bigger. She explains what it was like growing up with him, their first kiss, losing their virginities to each other, that stupid marriage pact that they hadn’t acknowledged in years until recently, the way he’d always looked out for her, everything to do with Sora, and how warm things had been since Y/N and Jeonghan had reunited. 

Joshua whistled. “Okay. What do you want to do about it?”

Y/N stares blankly. “What do you mean? I want to keep my best friend. I haven’t been good at that over the last few years.”

“Y/N, baby, I’ll be honest. That’s not just your best friend anymore. You said it felt different right?” Joshua asked. “It’s okay if it is different now. Like you said, you both have done a lot of growing up. Maybe it’s not supposed to be just friends now.”

Y/N looks like she could cry from frustration as she angrily folds a shirt. Joshua gently pulls it out of her hands and makes her sit down, squatting in front of her with his hands planted on her knees. “I just got him back. And he just got out of a long term relationship. The last thing I want to do is fuck anything up.”

“But would he make you happy?” Joshua pressed. She frowns at him and he continues to press. “That day at our internship years ago when you yelled at me, you said you just wanted to find something that felt right. Does it feel right with him?”

Her frown is deeper then as she looks down at Joshua. He’s carefully watching her. “I’ve never really let myself entertain the idea. At least not since we were teenagers.”

“Then maybe that’s what you should use this trip for,” Joshua suggests. “Do the romantic things I know you want to do because you’re there anyway. And while you’re at it, figure out if it feels right with him or not. And try to get a read on if he likes it too.”

Joshua stands up. “But we should rethink what you’re bringing. Do any of your old stuff from college fit?”

Y/N gives him a bewildered look. “You think I’m going to wear things I wore in college? If I can even fit in them still?”

Joshua huffs, going to her closet. “I’ll figure it out.”

Jeonghan insists that Y/N take the window seat when they board the plane for Italy. She’s always liked to look outside down into the clouds and she’s kind of touched that she didn’t have to remind him of that. It’s still early when they take off so the flight is quiet. When they land it’s only sometime in the afternoon local time, but they’re all exhausted because of the flight and time difference and decide to tackle sight seeing and venue touring the next day. 

The hotel room is beautiful and Y/N oohs and aahs over the view from the bed. Seungcheol made sure not to spare any expenses for this trip now that Byeol was letting him splurge on her and Y/N and Jeonghan were benefiting greatly from it. She and Jeonghan relax and take a short nap before it’s time to go down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner. Much like at the winery, they have too much to drink and stumble up to their rooms late. 

They come inside the room and Y/N shuffles around as Jeonghan sits down on the couch by the window. Y/N doesn’t really think twice about stopping in front of Jeonghan and turning her back to him as she pulls her hair out of the way. “Can you unzip this for me?” Joshua had picked a royal purple dress that wasn't her favorite because of the cut and shape of it. She’s not sure why she even has it because she’d had to take the tag off of it earlier today, but Joshua insisted it would look good. She’d let him chuck a lot of things into her suitcase that she felt iffy about and now she just wanted out of the dress that was a first of many. 

She waits patiently to feel Jeonghan’s touch, and when she finally does feel it, it doesn’t do what she expects. One big hand wraps around the curve of her waist in slow motion and pulls her closer so she’s standing between his knees and the other lands between her shoulder blades. Both touches are incredibly warm, but a shiver runs down her spine anyway and she fears it was obvious. 

“Why? It looks nice,” Jeonghan said lightly with a hint of amusement. She’s sure if she could see his face, she’d think about smacking it. 

“I’m not going to sleep in it,” Y/N snorts, trying to recover even though his hands haven’t moved. “Besides, it’s not my favorite.”

Jeonghan’s fingers still don’t move for the zipper yet, running along the top of the spaghetti strap dress just under her shoulder blades. The other drifts to her hip and she’s being pulled back a little more now. “What’s not to like?” 

Y/N loses whatever train of thought she had. He’s complimented her three times in this dress now. Once before they went downstairs and she’d asked him to help her zip it up, and now twice sitting behind her as she waits for him to unzip it. It’s not like he never gives her any compliments, but now she’s reading into everything too much. There’s also something in his tone that she’s never really heard before and can’t identify. His touch in particular makes her hands shake a little the longer it lingers. Lamely, she finally says, “It’s a little too snug in the waist. I’ve put on a few pounds since I bought it, I guess.”

“I think you look beautiful in it. Plus, I like this color on you.” 

“Thanks, Hannie. You really think so?” It comes out more like a whisper and she has to close her eyes. 

There’s a chuckle behind her, still tinged with that little something she can’t name. “Yeah I do.” Finally, he puts her out of her misery. The hand at her hip stays and squeezes a bit, but his other fingers finally close around the zipper and he pulls down slowly. Her bare back is cold now, but more importantly she can feel her face flushing. She can’t really face him now, so she softly pulls away from his hands and grabs her pajamas and toiletries on the way to the bathroom. 

Y/N is questioning such a reaction as she showers and changes. She tries to rationalize it with the fact that she’s not really dated, much less been intimate, with anyone in years. But that had been different than every other experience she’d ever had. It was so simple, and yet there was something sensual and sweet about it. Like he’d take care of her. Immediately, she thinks that’s silly because he has always gone out of his way to take care of her, outside of the time that they were strangers. 

She checks that her face isn’t too red when she comes back out. Jeonghan is lounging on the bed in his pajamas, flipping through TV channels. He looks up to her and smiles as she approaches. “Better?” Somehow the little question warms her more than the little touches and compliments did earlier. He was concerned about her comfort on top of everything else. 

She simply nods and settles into bed, looking out at the Venice skyline. She’s still awake much later when he’s turned off the TV and lights and is tossing and turning. He does this a lot now due to the lingering rib pain and struggles to stay comfortable. His arm comes around her waist and his body slides close to hers. She doesn’t think too much initially about letting her hand fall over his across her stomach. 

Just as she starts to overthink it and pull back though, he mumbles into the back of her neck. “Why are you still awake?”

“Don’t know. Insomnia, I guess. Don’t let me keep you up.”

He’s humming into the back of her neck now. “Is that normal for you?”

“A hazard of what I do for a living. And sometimes I can’t get my mind to shut off,” Y/N whispers back. 

“What’s on your mind tonight?” He asks sleepily.

Y/N doesn’t know how to answer because somehow the words, ‘I think I’m into my best friend and am overthinking literally everything we say or do’, don’t seem like the right thing to say. She settles for a non-descriptive, “I don’t know, a lot right now.”

“Don’t do that.” When she makes a sound of confusion, Jeonghan props his head up in his palm, pulling her to lay flat on her back and face him. The way the lighting hits his face leaves her kind of breathless and she feels so fucking cheesy for it. “Stop bottling things up.”

“It’s not that I’m bottling things up intentionally,” Y/N pouts up at him. “I just don’t know how to articulate it.”

“What’s it about then?” He asks simply. He’s trying to pull small answers out of her to get her to talk about the big things. It’s always been his technique for her because she needs the encouragement. But that’s kind of a dangerous thing considering where her mind is going while looking up at him. So she looks away towards the ceiling. 

“All this wedding planning has got me thinking. I don’t think I want to be alone. Maybe I did for a while, but now I just don’t know how not to be alone.”

“You’re thinking about dating again?” Jeonghan asks and there’s something careful about it. Y/N just shrugs. “Anyone in particular?” Though he’s trying to tease, he’s still being careful. Maybe it’s just because he recognizes it for the sensitive topic it is. 

“I don’t know that it matters,” Y/N mumbles. 

“It should matter…” he starts. “But if it doesn’t, we can always keep that marriage pact.”

Y/N can’t help but giggle but she can’t look at him. She’s picturing a stupid wedding at a stupid winery with a stupid bed and breakfast. Their room would have a stupid couch with a stupid fireplace. “Buy me a ring. I hear you have good taste.”

Jeonghan bows his head as he laughs. “I don’t know about that.” 

“Byeol liked it. And I think you did a good job,” Y/N said lightly. 

He fiddles with her fingers and they both get quiet. When he grazes a finger over her ring finger, her mind scrambles a bit, wondering if he entertains the joke even half as much as she does. “What would that even look like for us?” He asks curiously.

Y/N ponders the question. They’d always been close. Outside of the more physical elements of a relationship, she wonders if anything would really change. There weren’t many lines between them otherwise, which is why she’d been so comfortable with pitching the idea of sleeping together at 16. And as silly as it sounds, it was something she thought about from time to time. It had been sweet and careful and full of trust - exactly how their whole friendship had been and worlds better than some of the horror stories she’d heard before when it comes to your first. Looking back on her dating experience, not much had compared to it since and in a way she had been chasing after it. And it was both a blessing and a curse that they went right back to normal the next day. There were times that Y/N had wanted it to mean more than it seemed to, but it wasn't worth the risk of mentioning it back then. 

But now things were different between them. They were older with more life experience, but still understood each other so well. Objectively, they didn’t do many things differently now - they still annoyed and teased each other, they still shared food every time they ate together, and looked out for each other the way they always did. The big difference to Y/N now was that the casual touching and compliments didn’t feel so casual. There was a level of intimacy about it that hadn’t been present before. She wants to chalk it up to the years-long dry spell she’s under, but no one she’s dated before that has ever flustered her with simple touches or words the way he does lately. 

But she feels like she can’t say any of that so she does what she does best and makes a joke. “I don’t know, Hannie. If we got married, you’d have to pretend to like me a little, at least.”

Jeonghan scoffs and acts like he’s going to push Y/N away, but ends up dragging her a bit closer. “I like you more than anyone else. What are you even talking about?”

“Sounds like the first step of a good marriage to me,” Y/N teases. “You should like your partner more than you like anyone else.”

“Mhm,” Jeonghan hummed, clearly amused. “And what about you? Could you tolerate me for the next 70 years?”

Y/N snorts, looking up at him. “We won’t live that long. But yes, I can’t imagine tolerating anyone but you that long.” 

Jeonghan is smiling when he lays back down on the pillow - her pillow, that is. His breath is on her cheek. “And what are the benefits to this marriage? Arguing about eating sushi every night? Or whose a bigger blanket hog?” 

The teasing makes her laugh up at the ceiling. “It would all be with love. Plus, there’s financial benefits like taxes and insurance. And I’m sure there would be some physical benefits to it too.” The words are out before she realizes it and she hopes he can’t see how she’s blushing. She keeps looking at the ceiling, feeling embarrassed for what she said, and then feeling even more embarrassed about being embarrassed about it at all at the age of 30.

“Would there be?” Jeonghan asks and Y/N can’t really decipher what’s in his tone again, but she knows that the teasing and amusement are totally absent. When Y/N bites her lip, he grips her fingers. “There would be no pressure for that in this entirely hypothetical plan.” 

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Y/N mumbled. “After all, I asked you before… I’m not sure how you feel about it now though.”

“I feel the same about it as I did back then,” Jeonghan says simply and Y/N furrows her eyebrows at him. 

“I’m not sure what that means, Hannie. We never really talked about it before or after the fact.”

“All you have to do is ask. That’s how I feel about it.” Another simple statement.

“And if I asked right now?” Y/N dared to ask, looking him directly in the eye. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flit across her face. “That depends. Are you still drunk?” Y/N shook her head. She hadn’t been nearly as bad as she was at the winery a few weeks ago and the drinks at dinner tonight had been hours ago at this point. His hand leaves hers at her stomach and grazes the side of her face. “We’re starting to toe the line where this doesn’t feel entirely hypothetical. Have you noticed?”

Y/N’s eyes flare with surprise and he smiles softly when she speaks. “Yeah, I wasn't sure if you had though. So it’s not just me that feels like things are different now?”

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled. “Not just you.” His thumb grazes over her bottom lip. “I don’t know where to go from here though, Y/N. I just got you back.” He doesn’t really have to explain anymore, because Y/N is right there with him. After four painful years without him, it feels so risky to even discuss this. 

Y/N thinks of Joshua’s advice. Take the nice, free, romantic vacation and figure out how you feel. It seems like good advice now and there’s an openness between them, so Y/N suggests it. Jeonghan looks at her for a long time before mumbling, “Okay.” Then he’s leaning in to kiss her. 

Jeonghan and Y/N meet Seungcheol and Byeol for breakfast on very little sleep, but it doesn’t matter because Byeol has a laundry list of things she wants to accomplish. They eat quickly and get a move on. There are a couple rooftop venues that overlook the Grand Canal and both women seem intrigued by the view. Seungcheol and Jeonghan stand back and let them hash out the details over the notebook Byeol is carrying with her. Ideas for decor, colors that will look good with the backdrop, what type of flowers would fit this vibe. The men just glance at each other and shrug. Jeonghan doesn’t care much and he knows Seungcheol doesn’t either as long as Byeol will be walking down the aisle wherever they pick. 

They stop for lunch at a little cafe and then they’re moving again. This time, it’s the tourist traps like Saint Mark’s Basilica and the Bridge of Sighs. They don’t have a ton of time anywhere in particular because of how much they want to pack into this trip, and Seungcheol promises they’ll come back after he sees Byeol’s face when it’s time to find somewhere for dinner and wind down for the night. She’s clearly enjoying the trip and doesn’t want to leave quite yet. 

Jeonghan is terribly distracted. Not in a bad way, but he can’t for the life of him focus on anything else but Y/N. He hasn’t been able to all day. It’s a good thing that Seungcheol excepted very little from him here besides showing up and giving an opinion on the venues, because Jeonghan has done very little besides watching Y/N as she looks around in a sort of childlike wonder or excitement. It’s what he refers to as her sparkle. 

He first noticed her sparkle when they were five. Jeonghan had been dropped off for a play date, something they’d done their whole life up to that point, and he’d let himself in because he might as well have lived at the Choi’s just as much as the twins lived at the Yoon’s. He found Seungcheol and Y/N in the backyard. Seungcheol was too busy trying to make free throws to notice Jeonghan had arrived, but Y/N did. “Hannie, come see what I can do!” She’d looked so focused that her tongue was sort of sticking out as she places her feet carefully, and then executes a very clumsy pirouette. She’d been taking ballet for a few months and it was her favorite thing back then. When she was facing him again, feet both planted on the floor, she gave him a smile that made him ask to see her do it again. 

He’d seen that look again when she pulled him down to duck under a bridge during a gondola ride. And when they were looking out at the canal from one of the rooftop venues. And when she saw someone walk their dog past their table on the sidewalk during dinner. He liked seeing it. 

Later, when they arrived to the hotel room, the first thing he did was hug her. It felt silly, because they’d hugged hundreds if not thousands of times over the years. But after last night and today, he couldn’t help it. Kissing her for just a few moments last night had made him realize it wasn’t even remotely just friendly now, and it was kind of agonizing to have to play it cool all day. 

Y/N is giggling in his ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders. “What’s this for?”

“What? You don’t like it?” Jeonghan teases, starting to pull away, but her grip around his shoulders becomes a little tighter. 

“I didn’t say that, and I also didn’t say you could stop,” Y/N insists and Jeonghan has to laugh because her tone is cute. It’s got some of that sparkle. 

When she finally pulls away, he leaves his hands on her waist. Again, it feels silly because it’s not like he’s never touched her waist, but there’s something different about her hands landing softly on his chest that make him smile. “Did you have a good time?”

Y/N grins widely. “Yeah, it was nice!”

Jeonghan gives her a knowing look. “She won’t pick it though.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “It’ll be Greece. I bet you anything.”

“Oh, anything?” Jeonghan gives a sly smile and Y/N pushes him back with a laugh, walking past him into the room. He trails after her to her suitcase, hovering behind her back. He can tell she’s not mad at the comment, just nervous. Her hands shake a little as they dig through the clothes and he feels bad. The last thing he wants is for her to be nervous around him. He puts his hands back on her waist and presses a small kiss to her bare shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, angel.”

Y/N looks over her shoulder at him for a moment, biting her lip. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hannie. I’m just not sure what I’m doing here.”

“I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect anything from you except honesty. Besides, I’m not sure quite what to do either.” She lets him turn her until she’s facing him again. “I know we talked about toeing this line last night, but we don’t have to do that. We can pump the brakes or just stop the car all together right now.”

Y/N fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, lips pursed. “I don’t really want to pump the brakes or stop, if you don’t. A lot of things about this are just nerve wracking.” 

Jeonghan pulls her to the couch and makes her sit with him. “I agree,” he says honestly. Whatever he’s been feeling lately is scary in its intensity. “But tell me why so I can help.”

“Besides the potential of losing my best friend?” Jeonghan squeezes her thigh because that much was obvious to both of them and she sighs. She stares for a long time at him, looking conflicted. Finally, she says, “Is this what you want, Jeonghan?”

“I wouldn’t have agreed last night if I didn’t want to explore this, Y/N,” Jeonghan nodded. 

“And it has nothing to do with Sora?”

Jeonghan blinked at her. “Y/N, I haven’t thought about Sora in weeks, and even then it wasn't a positive thing.”

“You're sure this isn’t a rebound?”

Her question makes him frown deeply. He wants to be mad, but it’s a fair thing to ask given he just ended a five year relationship only a matter of months ago. “No, Y/N. I love you too much for that. I want it to work if that’s what you want.”

“And if it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, what do we do?” Y/N’s eyes look a little watery, but per usual she blinks it back. “I want a plan.” Jeonghan can’t help but laugh for a moment because she’s still just as Type A as she’s always been. She likes back up plans for her back up plans. Y/N’s eyes flare with anger. “I’m serious, Hannie. If we explore this, we need to agree on finding a way out if it’s not working.”

“Angel, that’s like planning for failure,” Jeonghan is still chuckling, but the sound dies in his throat when she doesn’t laugh along. 

“That’s really all I know when it comes to this sort of thing. So I need a guarantee that you’ll still be in my life if wherever we go with this doesn’t work out.” The watery eyes are back, but this time it seems like too much for her to blink them back. 

Jeonghan sticks out his pinky and Y/N cracks a smile. “I promise you will not be rid of me until you beg me to go.”

“Unlikely,” Y/N laughs but it kind of chokes her up. She links their pinkies together. “You can’t take it back now.”

“Can’t imagine why I’d want to. Now, can I kiss you? I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Y/N barely nods before Jeonghan’s hand comes up to the side of her face, the other still holding her thigh. She feels his breath on her lips for a moment and her eyes drift closed. Finally, he kisses her. It’s soft and warm, light presses landing and receding over and over. It sends tingles through her body and her hands slide to his shoulders. When her tongue swipes across his lips, this time he doesn’t stop her. It’s still soft, but something is gently building and it has her sighing into the kiss. 

He’s so slow and careful, like she might break, which is about right. The sensations have her feeling so fragile. When his hand slides from her cheek and into her hair, she thinks she might cry. A few more touches, specifically his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist where it rubs lightly and she actually does. 

Jeonghan pulls back when he feels the tear. “Do you want to stop?” The question is automatic as he swipes at her cheek. 

“No, I’m sorry for being such a big baby.” Y/N knows her apology is weak but Jeonghan gives her a kind smile, totally void of any teasing. 

“Stop bottling it up, Y/N. It’s okay. And it’s also okay if you just want to go to bed.”

“I don’t,” Y/N answers quickly. “But I probably killed the mood.”

“No,” Jeonghan laughs lightly. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

Y/N feels her face flush and she knows she’s caught because his thumb runs over the apples of her cheeks where it feels the warmest. But his smile is still kind and it makes her lean in to peck his lips. “I’m okay.”

The answer must be good enough for Jeonghan because he’s leaning into her space more, hand at the back of head to hold her in place. This time he swipes into her mouth and whatever was building earlier is back again. So much that after a while of it, she doesn’t feel embarrassed to slide into his lap and straddle him. He sighs into her mouth when she’s fully seated against him and his big hands spread across the curve of her waist. She looks down at him. “Okay? Not hurting?” When he shakes his head, she leans down to his lips again. 

His hands are starting to drift now and it’s starting to take her breath away. They slide up her waist until his thumbs are just under her breasts before sliding back down, past her waist and hips and to her thighs. It’s so easy to get swept up in the touches and she’s heating fast. She can feel herself getting wet as he continues, though he hasn’t touched any skin besides her thighs. And she’s not alone in being turned on. Underneath her, she feels him hardening. It’s kind of a rush to have this effect on him. 

When she can’t breath anymore, she pulls back to look at him and he looks as dazed as she feels. “Should we stop?” Y/N asked and feels kind of silly for it again, but Jeonghan remains serious. 

“Whatever you want, angel.” His voice is low and scratchy and she likes the sound. She’s never heard it like that before. 

Y/N bites her lip nervously. “I want to know what you want, Hannie.”

Jeonghan stares up at her, hands still drifting up and down her body gently. “I don’t want to stop,” he mumbles. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop this. But I’m not interested in rushing you if you want more and I don’t expect anything from you if you don’t. Which is why it’s whatever you want.” 

Y/N’s nerve endings feel like they’re on fire. For some reason, she remembers being 16 as he hovers over her in bed, saying similar things. ‘There’s no rush’ and ‘we don’t have to do this’ and ‘are you sure you’re comfortable?’ He was gentle then too. It had dashed any nervousness she felt back then and he’d made her feel good when she agreed to continue. She wanted that again.

“If we keep going, do we have to go all the way?” She feels lame for asking, but this is such a fragile situation and she feels like they’re kind of walking a tight rope right now. 

Jeonghan is smiling sweetly. “No. We go however far you feel like.”

Something about the way he says it emboldens Y/N. She’s always let the men she’s been with take the lead, but there’s something powerful about being handed the reigns. Without another word, she leans down to him again and kisses him. It has a little more urgency but his touch his still gentle. She grabs one of his hands from her side and puts it on her thigh, angling inward. She’s glad he gets the point because it starts creeping up slowly. The fabric of her skirt starts to bunch but he’s still not rushed. 

Her breathing catches when his finger tips graze the edge of her panties and he pulls back to watch her face. “All you have to do is say stop, okay?” It seems highly unlikely that she’s going to do that, but she nods anyway. When his fingers graze over the center of her, she can’t help the little gasp that escapes her mouth as her eyes snap shut. Small circular motions start working her up through the fabric and she’s getting wetter by the second. 

Jeonghan gently pulls the edge of her panties to the side and gives her a few beats to object. When Y/N doesn’t, his finger grazes her, dipping into the wetness and spreading it. When his finger finds her clit, she shudders, the shock waves already moving through her. Her grip on his shoulders tighten. The cord in her stomach is tightening quickly and just before it’s about to snap he pulls away. 

A whine escapes her mouth before she can really stop it, but he's leaning up to kiss her again. It’s still sweet and she huffs against his lips. It makes him laugh. “Be patient, okay? I want to keep making you feel good.”

“Fine,” Y/N relents and it makes him laugh again, especially when his fingers find her center again and one pushes inside. Her jaw drops open a bit at the slight stretch. It’s nothing like her own fingers and it has her breath catching in her throat again. He pumps it in and out softly and the way it hits her walls make her want to moan. When he adds another finger, she can’t help it. He head tilts back as the sound falls from her mouth. 

Dimly, she’s aware that a little fingering shouldn’t have such an impact, but it feels too good to be embarrassed about it right now. Besides, Jeonghan has never let her feel genuinely embarrassed about anything for long. It feels too good the way his fingers spread inside of her, hitting spots she’s unfamiliar with anymore. When his thumb lands on her clit again, rubbing softly with every push and pull of his fingers, he leans forward into her exposed neck. She feels a few soft kisses and then the slight sting of his teeth and it has her clenching. Her fingers find the hair at the back of his head to keep him there and he nips and sucks a few times. 

“Feel good?” He asks quietly against her throat and she nods weakly. “Will you let me see you come?” The question works her up even more and the cord is getting tighter again. “You look so pretty like this. Come on, angel. Just let go.”

The coaxing is all it takes for the cord to finally snap. It’s a full body reaction that she has to anchor onto his shoulders for. But his free hand is on her back now keeping her upright and in his lap as the other hand still helps her ride it out. When his fingers finally slide out of her, she feels a little boneless. She’s nervous to open her eyes and look at him, but some of it fades out when his hand grabs her chin and a soft kiss is placed on her lips. “Okay?” 

The question is still gentle, just like everything else he’s said since they got back to the hotel room, but she hears a tinge of nervousness that matches her own. She cracks open her eyes and he looks exceptionally vulnerable, and she wonders if he thinks he’s done something wrong. But he has nothing to worry about because this is the safest and most cared for she’s ever really felt. So she leans down and kisses him one more time for good measure. “Okay.”

The next day is a travel day, but it’s much shorter because they’re only going to Paris. Jeonghan watches Y/N look out of the window for most of the flight. His nerves are fried and he keeps a grip on her hand. She doesn’t ask why. 

Toeing this line over the past couple days is something he enjoyed - really enjoyed, in fact. This was someone he’s known forever, literally, and someone that knows him best, better than anyone else surely. And the feel and sight of her on his lap last night had totally scrambled his brain until not a single coherent thought remained beyond making sure she was happy and felt good. But he kind of felt like he was at a precipice when he woke up this morning. 

To be clear, it’s not regret that he’s feeling. He knows immediately that that’s not it, because it had all felt right to him. He was just afraid of waking up and seeing that she might have regretted it and he wasn’t sure how he would deal with that. When she woke up, she gave no indications that she did, even pecking him on the lips before she got out of bed. In the rush to the airport, he hadn’t had much time to think about it, but this short flight felt like an eternity. He’s not sure what he’d do with the time if he wasn’t stuck in this seat, but it makes him twitchy. 

Which is something that Seungcheol notices when they’ve landed. The girls have run to the restroom and he and Seungcheol are waiting for their bags when Seungcheol pins him with a look. “You seem off.”

“How do you mean?” Jeonghan hopes to play dumb. 

“You’re anxious. Why? You’ve flown a hundred times before so that can’t be it,” Seungcheol presses. 

“I’m good. Nothing to worry about.” Jeonghan prays he’ll drop it as he spots the bags coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. 

“Uh huh. You know I don’t like secrets.” 

Jeonghan does know that. But what he doesn’t know is if he and Y/N should be keeping things quiet until there’s something definite to say. So he shrugs, “When I have something to say, I’ll say it. I promise.” And he means it. If this is actually going somewhere, which he hopes that it is, then they’ll say something to Cheol. They’ll have to. 

But that also opens up the possibility of it going nowhere or going horribly wrong. Jeonghan has to put the idea out of his mind immediately for his sanity and because their bags are here. 

They arrive at the hotel and it’s another nice one with a nice view. Y/N jokes that they should let Seungcheol pick lodging from now on, and Jeonghan laughs but he’s still distracted. They change out of their outfits from the flight and meet in the lobby for a tour. The hotel they’re staying at happens to be a popular venue for weddings and Seungcheol booked a tour on a whim when he booked the rooms. Byeol seems to like the ballroom and the rooftop, from which you can see the Eiffel Tower. Y/N’s sparkle is back as she enjoys the view and Jeonghan has a hard time looking at the scenery. 

The second and third venues are not far and they walk to them. Both are chateaus that are privately owned but often hosts weddings. Byeol had scheduled tours at both ahead of time. Byeol is pretty charmed by both of them and even Seungcheol comments on how much he likes it. Y/N shivers in the cold, castle-like interior. It’s not a winner for her, but Jeonghan notices she keeps her mouth shut. He already knows what her choice would be anyway if it were up to her. 

After a long lunch, they hit the usual tourist destinations, such as the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. At the Cathedral, Byeol and Seungcheol even gather some information about hosting their wedding there because they like the interior. Y/N looks excited by the idea, but one look between Y/N and Jeonghan makes it obvious that it will still be Greece when it comes time for Byeol to pick. 

Seungcheol and Byeol are staying on a different floor, so they get off the elevator before Y/N and Jeonghan after dinner. As soon as the elevator doors close, Jeonghan is on Y/N and she giggles. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It’s playful so he laughs, dropping a couple kisses onto her neck. “Nothing, I just missed you today.”

Y/N lets out another giggle. “Missed me? Hannie, we spent the whole day together.” 

The elevator doors slides open on their floor and he takes her hand, leading them to their room. “I know, but it’s true.” 

“But I was right here all day. What could be different?” She asks as he uses the keycard and opens the door. Once inside, he lightly pushes her against the closed door. 

“This,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to her lips. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted any of this in public, or in front of Seungcheol or Byeol for that matter.”

She’s smiling against his ear when he buries is face in her neck again. Her arms wrap tighter around his shoulders. “Do you want that?” 

“I think you already know my answer,” he laughs into her neck. “I’d be all over you anywhere if you let me.”

“I’m not opposed to it,” she admits as a hand combs through his hair. “Does Cheol know what’s going on?”

“He’s suspicious about something. He cornered me at the airport earlier.”

“Do you think he would be mad?” Y/N sounds unsure. 

It only takes a split second for Jeonghan to answer. “No, not as long as I treat you well.”

She pulls back a bit to look at him. “How can you be so sure? I remember him giving you a bloody nose one time over a simple rumor.”

Jeonghan bites his tongue. He’s not ready to admit how long these feelings that they’re coming face to face with have been lingering for him. Or that Seungcheol is in on that secret. “Would you take my word for it for now?”

She stares at him for a long time and he feels nervous about it. Finally, she says, “If you’ll tell me one day, then yes.” She gives him a few pecks. There’s a blend of something that takes over her face when she pulls away. Something like fear and anxiety, but also a bit of her usual sparkle and some mischievousness. “I was going to take a shower… do you want to join me?”

Jeonghan’s mind screeches to a halt. He’s impressed by how calmly he speaks, because he doesn’t feel calm at all. He’s surprised his hands don’t shake a bit at her waist. “Y/N… are you sure? That’s quite a leap from what we did yesterday. I have no expectations for what we do and what pace we do it at.” 

Some of the sparkle and mischievousness dims and she plays with the pocket on his shirt to avoid looking at him. “I know, but… You made me feel good and I felt safe with you. I always do. So I’d like to do this, if nothing else just for the company. We don’t even have to do anything.” She smiles sheepishly. “I missed you today too, you know?”

“And I missed you… you’re sure? Even if nothing happens, this is still a leap.” Outside of a handful of occasions, being without clothes was not something that was common in their friendship up to this point. That alone would be different. Jeonghan doesn’t budge until he has confirmation. She gives him a strong nod, but he still waits for her to say something. 

The moment she says, “I’m sure, Hannie,” he backs off of her and lets her lead him to the bathroom. The whole thing is made of dark green tiles and the lighting is dimmed. They took a peek at the shower earlier and it’s expansive with a bench inside. Jeonghan closes the door behind them to keep the steam in later, but as soon as he faces her he knows she’s losing whatever confidence she had before when she asked him to join her. He carefully reaches out for her hands because it feels like the safest option.

“Do you want help? Or do you want me to step out?” 

Y/N gives him a weak smile. “You first?” 

Without much thought, Jeonghan begins unbuttoning his shirt. He’s barely two buttons in when Y/N hands push his own out of the way. She’s slow and meticulous and he lets her take her time, because it seems to help ease her nerves to be able to do something else than think about where this is going. Jeonghan helps untuck the shirt and then sheds it off. He cares very little about how it might get wrinkled on the bathroom floor when Y/N puts her hands on his bare chest. It takes him a minute to realize that she’s not just checking him out, though he does think she is. She’s also looking at the scar from his surgery. He lightly squeezes her hand bringing it up to kiss. “Don’t think about it.” 

It takes him leaning over her and kissing her before that spell is broken. He walks her back into the bathroom counter, but her hands are still hesitant and she needs more time to warm up or decide to back out. So he picks her up and places her on the counter, squeezing between her legs. She looks surprised at the move and it makes him laugh. “Comfortable?”

She looks a little dazed when she nods. “Would you be offended if I said I was surprised you were that strong? It’s just, I’m not exactly light.”

Jeonghan scoffs, leaning back into her lips. “Y/N has a strength kink. Got it.”

Y/N sputters out a laugh. “I never said that!” 

“You didn’t have to, angel. Your face said it all.” Y/N hides her red face in his neck but she’s still laughing. His arms wrap around her, hands rubbing up and down her back. “I’m messing with you, Y/N. You can relax.” 

“Maybe you’re right. I kind of liked it,” she said shyly into his neck. 

Jeonghan chuckled, letting his hand creep up the back of her shirt slowly, palm pressing into her skin. “Noted.” 

Y/N huffed, frustration evident, “I’m sorry, Jeonghan. I know this is clumsy.”

He makes her sit up so he can look at her. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. I’m just relieved you trust me enough to entertain any of this. And that you’d tell me if you’re not quite ready. Right?”

Y/N nods. “Yeah, would you?” 

Jeonghan can’t help but place a peck on her lips. “Yeah, I would.” Both palms are on her back now, shirt bunched up her back slightly. “What now?” 

He watches her as it looks like she’s steeling herself for something. Then her hands come to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She’s wearing a black lacy bra and it makes him suck in a small breath. He’s staring a moment too long and she starts to squirm. He kisses her to get her to stop. “You are so pretty,” he mumbles against her lips. He’s rock hard now, pressing against her between her legs. 

Jeonghan is surprised when Y/N starts to get a little impatient. It seems like a switch has flipped. He sucks in another breath when she reaches for his belt, starting to unbuckle it. He laughs because she was hiding in his neck moments ago over a joke about a kink. When she reaches for the button of his pants, his laugh dries up because things are moving kind of fast now. He sheds his pants too before returning back to between her legs. Not that she would let him get away, because she was kissing him again with urgency, holding both sides of his face. 

His hands land on her thighs and when she gasps, he slowly slides them up. Her skirt bunches up to her stomach. One of his hands flies to the matching panties before slowing, gently rubbing. Like last night, she keens at the touch. He slowly repeats what he did the night before, pulling the panties to the side and working her up carefully. He thinks he could watch her come over and over again and never get tired of it. 

When she comes down, he watches her. “Okay?” She nods, her smile slightly dazed. “Still want that shower?” Another dazed nod, and he laughs. “Okay, let me help.” 

He helps her off the counter, and when she’s on her feet, his hands drift from her waist to the button of her skirt. He slowly unhooks it and pulls the zipper, but she shoves it down her legs as soon as the fabric is loose. Jeonghan laughs at the rush she’s in because they really have all night or she could kick him out of the bathroom right now, but he stops laughing when she quickly unhooks her bra and tosses it, along with her panties. His eyes follow her as she walks towards the shower. “Are you coming?”

Y/N tries to breathe deeply under the stream of water, soaking her hair and body. Every time she makes a bold move, she instantly second guesses it. So she’s relieved when she hears the shower door close. Good, she didn’t scare him off yet. 

Jeonghan’s arms slide around her waist as he presses into her back. A kiss drops onto her wet shoulder. “Kind of cold in here,” he mumbles. She giggles, spinning them to put him under the hot water. She watches his muscles relax in the warmth. He really is attractive. Always has been really. Tall with a lot of lean muscle. Handsome face. Her hands meet his chest, running down his stomach and wrapping around his waist. He peers down at her with a look of curiosity, but he doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around her either. A kiss presses to her forehead. “Good?” 

Y/N nods, head laying on his chest. She’s not sure if that’s a lie because she’s pretty sure he can feel her heart beat where she leans into him. For the thousandth time, she wishes this wasn’t so nerve wrecking. She remembers being so much smoother about these things a long time ago. His hand pats the back of her head mindlessly and it soothes her a bit. 

“I can feel you tensing up. Stop stressing, angel,” he says simply. “Now turn around so I can wash your hair.” 

This does the trick. As soon as his fingers scrape across her scalp, Y/N’s mind goes blank. He’s meticulous about lathering and massaging and she lets him do it for as long as he wants, primarily because it feels good but also because he’s right. She’s nervous and this eases it a bit. In the back of her mind, she wonders if he’s working off his own nervous energy with this too, but she can’t be sure because she can’t open her eyes right now to look at him. 

He gently pulls her under the water, rinsing out her hair. Then she’s out of the water and he’s using conditioner on the length. While it sits, he comes around to her front, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. The whole thing is warm and by the time he rinses her hair out again she’s putty in his hands. “Better,” he laughs against her lips. It’s not a question. He must be able to feel the lack of tension now. 

“Shut up, you make me nervous,” Y/N laughs too.

She hears a strange laugh and she cracks open her eyes to look up at him. “Me? First of all, we’ve known each other for years, Y/N. There’s no reason for that. Secondly, it’s you who makes me nervous.” 

Y/N feels her eyes widen in outrage. “Hannie, that’s such a double standard. Why would I make you nervous? I’ve been an absolute klutz this whole time!” 

“That’s exactly why!” He laughs, though there’s a serious look in his eyes. “You could do no wrong in my book and yet you’re afraid of making a fool out of yourself in front of me.” 

Some of the tension is creeping back in her shoulders and his hands come up to rub them, forcing them to stay relaxed. “It’s only because I care about your opinion more than anyone else’s,” Y/N says weakly. 

“And you have nothing to worry about there. You’re already my favorite person. And even if you weren’t already, I think you’d have me hooked in a heartbeat.” 

His sincerity makes her eyes water. “Stop making me want you,” Y/N half jokes. It makes Jeonghan laugh loudly and it echoes throughout the shower. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” he says simply and then his lips are on hers again. He’s walking her back to the shower wall and when her back hits the tile, she can’t help but hiss at the cold. His tongue swipes at her mouth when she makes the sound and then it feels like he’s all over her. His hands are swiping up and down her body again, but it feels ten times better without clothes in the way. On one particular swipe up, one hand closes around her breast and it rips a moan from her. But his tongue still presses into her mouth unforgivingly and it kind of feels like he’s trying to eat her alive. His thumb rubs across her nipple and it pebbles instantly, scrambling her brain for a second. 

His other hand tilts her head and his face buries in her neck. His lips start at her ear, sucking and licking right below it and it makes her feel like she’s floating. Then his lips and teeth scrape down the column of her neck. At the base, he sucks lightly. She might have a bruise tomorrow, but that barely entered her mind before it’s gone again, because now his tongue is sweeping across her nipple. Her body arches into him because she just can’t help it, and he must like it, because his hand flies to the small of her back to keep her there. 

Y/N’s breathing is a bit ragged when he comes back up to her lips. One hand still plays with one of her breasts and the one at her back skates to her ass, grabbing a handful there gently. She’s totally aware of his hardened length pressing against her stomach and it’s all she can think about now. So she pushes him away. 

There’s a flash of panic on his face and he looks like he might be getting ready to apologize, but Y/N smiles up at him as she falls to her knees in front of him. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching the realization and subsequent awe spread across his face. “Angel, you don’t have to…”

The complaint dies on his tongue when her hand wraps around him, stroking lightly. A light curse falls from his mouth and he doesn’t look away. When her lips wrap around his tip, he hisses, another curse tumbling out. Jeonghan’s fingers thread into her wet hair but there’s nothing forceful about it. He lets her bob and lick at her pace, taking as much and then as little as she wants. 

It’s when her lips wrap around his base that his grip on her hair tightens. It loosens right away and Y/N kind of misses it already. So she pulls her mouth off of him to look up. “You can do that again.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.” His voice sounds kind of choked. 

“You won’t. Besides, there’s that newly discovered strength kink, remember?” Y/N says it teasingly, but there’s a thrill when she watches his eyes glaze over a bit more at the mention of it. His fingers grip tighter when she takes him back into her mouth again. He’s starting to become a little impatient and his fingers keep gripping tighter. The sting on her scalp makes her moan and it surprises even her. She’s historically been pretty vanilla. She’s not so naive to think this is really as rough as it can get, but the edge to it is new and has her dripping. 

Jeonghan pulls out and takes a small step forward, gently pushing her back and head against the shower wall. The position is a little uncomfortable and new, but she can’t help but nod immediately when Jeonghan strokes her hair and asks her if she’s okay. She’s more than okay because she can have the best of both worlds here, the gentleness that she needs, but also a little of the rough edge that she’s craving now. 

He guides himself back into her mouth and then he’s the one pumping in and out. The movement is gentle and so are his hands on her head, but there’s no mistaking the control he has right now. It makes her eyes roll back a little and she grips his thighs to ground herself. 

And that’s a good thing when the thrusts become hastier. She knows he’s putting in work to remain careful, but she can feel that he’s getting close. The sounds falling from his mouth make her wrap her hands to the back of his thighs, encouraging him to be closer. 

“Fuck… Angel, I’m going to come. Where do you want it?” 

Something possesses her. That’s the only explanation because she’s never done anything like this before. Y/N pushes him by the hip gently and he backs up, keening into her hand when she wraps it around him, pumping fast. “My face.” 

He looks totally gone now, and a broken moan falls from his lips, watching her stick out her tongue. He curses again when he comes. Some lands on her tongue, but most of it paints her cheek and nose. He’s hauling her to her feet immediately and her back is against the shower wall, arms wrapping around his shoulders for stability due to her weak knees. It’s entirely erotic that he presses his tongue into her mouth, not the least bit put off by the taste and feel of himself all over her face. When he comes down from his high, he’s laughing in shock. “Holy fuck, you’re so hot.” 

It makes her laugh loudly too, and relief floods her body that he liked the risk she took. Then he’s guiding her under the water, helping her rinse and wash her face, careful not to get any soap in her eyes. Then she does the same to him. They finish washing each other, but the water is still hot and they stay under the spray, holding each other. 

“Too much?” Jeonghan asks carefully, kissing her neck. 

Y/N shakes her head. “No… in fact, I could do more.” 

His head pops up and he looks down at her with a mixture of caution and excitement. “Is that so?” When she nods, he asks, “and what were you thinking?”

Y/N feels a smirk cross her face and she’s not sure where the confidence comes from. “Can we explore that strength kink a little more?” 

Jeonghan looks elated. “Yeah, I can manage that. Just tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N lets him push her back against the shower wall that she’s becoming really familiar with. His hands stroke across her body for a while as he kisses her and she’s waits patiently. She doesn’t know how to navigate this, but he seems to and she trusts him. 

His hands wrap around her arched back, gripping and massaging, and it has her sighing into his mouth, especially the lower they go. A few rougher grips to her ass and they fall to the back of her thighs. When he lifts abruptly, she squeals in surprise, clinging to his shoulders. Instinctively, her legs fly around his waist and then her back is against the shower wall again. 

Jeonghan is laughing again. “Sorry, should have warned you.”

Y/N lightly slaps his shoulder. “Yeah right, you wanted to scare me.” She can tell she’s right because he giggles into her neck. Whatever lecture she might give him is gone when his hands grope at her ass again. Everything about the position is exposing and she’s totally at his mercy. His cock is hard against her again and the feel of it so close to where she wants it has her huffing. 

But he knows her too well. “Patience, angel.” His hips stay anchored against her, along with one hand on her ass, but the other comes back up to her breast and she’s falling back flat into the shower wall at the feeling. His lips graze her jaw. “How far do you want to go?” 

She has a hard time answering because he’s pinching lightly at her nipples. “All the way.” 

Jeonghan hesitates for a few beats before finally asking, “Like this?”

Y/N considers it through the haze of his touch. It’s been a long time and there might be better positions to reintroduce her to all of this, but she wants him so badly right now that it doesn’t matter. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. Tell me how it feels. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He says this against her jaw and when she nods, he pulls back again. He reaches down and the head of his cock rubs against her opening a few times before notching there, and she sucks in a breath. She can feel the stretch already and she’s still not breathing quite yet. “Deep breath, angel. It’ll be okay, but stop me if it’s not.” She gives another nod and then his lips are on hers and he’s pushing in slowly. 

The stretch is insane and tears prick her eyes. It’s not exactly pain, but there’s something uncomfortable about it. It reminds her of her first time and she feels silly for the comparison. She focuses on his lips and when he’s fully seated she’s pleased by the sound he makes against her mouth. He stays there and his hands stroke her body gently. He leans back to look at her. “Okay?” 

Y/N sighs and laughs shortly, a little overwhelmed at the feeling. “Yeah, just… go slow.”

She expects the same pain or discomfort when he pulls out most of the way, but the drag against her walls has her pinching her eyebrows together as the feeling shifts. “Oh.” It falls from her mouth before she can stop it and then he’s slowly pushing back in and it feels good. Really good actually. 

Jeonghan starts a slow and steady pace and Y/N leans forward to kiss him again. There are some broken gasps and moans from both of them. When he hits a particular spot, Y/N feels herself clench around him and he hisses. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Another clench. Jeonghan chuckles. “Praise kink, too? Y/N, really?” 

“You’re really making fun of me right now?” Y/N whines, slightly breathless. 

Jeonghan seems more focused now. His thrusts become more intense and now words are flowing freely from his mouth. “So pretty like this, letting me have you against the wall. And you sound so good, I just want to keep pulling those little noises from you. Everything about you is so perfect.” She clenches repeatedly on him and his thrusts are coming faster. Y/N’s nails dig into his shoulders. “Can I see you come? I know you’re close.” 

She was close. Dangerously close in fact. It takes a single pinch of her nipple and him hitting a certain spot deep inside her and suddenly she’s seeing stars. Moans fall from her mouth and she can do very little to help him keep a hold of her. His grip gets tight on her hips and he’s pounding her through her orgasm. “You’re going to make me come, angel. Where do you want it?” 

“Inside, Hannie,” her request is weak but there’s something about it that propels him forward, a deep groan escaping his throat. His grip on her hips is so tight it hurts as he buries himself deeply and comes inside of her. After a few deep breaths, he eases her down to her feet. HIs grip is still tight because she’s unsteady. Both of their breathing is ragged still, but she’s giggling at him. “Breeding kink?” 

Jeonghan guffaws. “Shut up. Let’s hurry up and get out of here. The water’s cold now.”

The next day, Seungcheol and Byeol have a list of things they want to do alone. Byeol is nervous to say so when she knocks on Y/N and Jeonghan’s hotel room door as they’re getting ready. They both shrug it off and tell her to go have fun. After all, they’re here to start planning their wedding and they’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world. Byeol starts to apologize but Jeonghan waves her off and says he and Y/N will go find something to do. 

And that’s actually a blessing in disguise. They might have been toeing the line before, but now they’ve straight up crossed it. But every single time they’ve gone near this line lately, it’s been in private. As Jeonghan stops replaying how Y/N rode him this morning while he sat on the tile bench in the shower, he worries about how he can navigate this public facet of whatever they’re doing. And the ‘whatever they’re doing’ part stresses him out more, because a label would be really useful right about now. 

It’s probably a good thing that he has some time to figure out how to approach this without being under the watchful eye of Seungcheol or Byeol, who have been giving him knowing looks and making comments since Y/N and Jeonghan reunited a few months ago. Seungcheol apparently doesn’t keep any secrets from Byeol so she knows all of Jeonghan’s dirty laundry dating back years. 

They’re dressing down today since they aren’t visiting any venues. At least that’s what he thinks until Y/N comes out of the bathroom in a sun dress. Jeonghan looks down at his jeans, t-shirt, and flannel and scoffs at her in offense. “Do you have to be so pretty?” 

Y/N becomes shy, cheeks turning pink. “What are you talking about? It’s just a dress and some makeup.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty without it.” Jeonghan says and she shoves him on the way out of the door. They go to a small cafe down the street and Jeonghan decides to start simply. When they’re about to cross the street, he laces his fingers with hers. Once they get to the other side of the street, he doesn’t let go until it’s time to open the door and usher her into the cafe. 

He reattaches their hands when they arrive at Jardin du Luxembourg and walk the garden. At lunch, he sits next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders. He’s happy when she leans into him. He lets go of her when they arrive for a tour at the Palace of Versailles because she’s too busy admiring it anyway to pay any attention to him.

Until dinner, they wander around the city together. When they stop and look at something, his hand falls to her back. And at dinner, he brushes a crumb off her mouth. 

She doesn’t pull away once and in fact usually leans into his touch. It leaves him elated, almost to the point of overwhelm because of how things are shifting so fast between them. It traps him in his thoughts as they stroll around after dinner aimlessly. They’re in a park that Jeonghan didn’t pay attention to the name of when they entered, when Y/N squeezes his hand. “Don’t bottle it up.”

Jeonghan glances at her and huffs a laugh. “That’s my line.”

“And I’m stealing it. You’re not usually this quiet. What’s on your mind?” Y/N says sweetly. 

Jeonghan bites his lip, looking around the park, though he can’t see much because it’s so dark. “Is a lot of this overwhelming to you too?”

Y/N hums. “Yes and no.” He can’t help but look at her curiously. “Yes because things are changing so fast between us and I don’t know where it’s going. No, because it’s you.” The words warm him. After a few beats, she looks up at him. “Do you want to slow things down? Or stop all together?” 

His response is instantaneous. “No, I don’t. I’m loving all of it. It just makes my head spin… Do you want to stop or slow down?”

Y/N shakes her head just as fast. “No, I love it too. That doesn’t make it less scary though.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. It is scary.” Jeonghan agreed without an ounce of humor. He’s surprised when Y/N laughs. 

“I feel kind of stupid now. We’ve only ever talked about what our silly marriage pact would look like. We’ve just been winging any of the steps before that, assuming that that pact ever comes to fruition and wasn’t just a joke.” 

Jeonghan does finally laugh and he throws his arm around her to pull her into his side. “Yeah, I guess we have marriage on the brain lately.” He doesn’t feel awkward often but he does right now. “Is this where we have the dreaded ‘what are we’ conversation?”

Y/N chuckles. “Maybe it’s time… what do you want?”

Jeonghan thinks carefully and he can feel her squirm against his side out of nervousness. But he takes his time because this is a pivotal moment and it needs to be honest. He pictures having days like this for the rest of his life. Holding her hand as they walk, shielding her in a crowd, sharing his food with her. He imagines taking her back to the hotel later. He’s still hesitant to assume they’re on the same page when it comes to sex, but he’d be patient as long as she’s still interested in exploring it. But it’s laughable that all of that feels foreign and weird in a good way, and yet the idea of marrying her seems totally natural. The idea warms his chest and he imagines making this kind of trip to pick out a venue for themselves. But then he knows there’s no need for a trip like this when that little bed and breakfast at the winery exists. He thinks about being married to her and living out the rest of his life with her. Again, it’s laughable that it’s not hard to imagine. 

He leans over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I could marry you tomorrow, but I’ll settle for being your boyfriend for a while until then if you’ll have me.”

There’s humor in it and he knows she’s picked up on it, but her eyes water when she looks up at him. Her sparkle’s back. “Okay. Just until you’re ready to get me a ring though!” 

Y/N and Jeonghan are not subtle the next morning when they meet Seungcheol and Byeol to go to the airport. They might have their bags but their free shands are linked. Seungcheol and Byeol are about to ‘aww’ at them, but the taxi driver honks his horn impatiently. 

When they board the plane, Jeonghan knows something’s up the moment Byeol sits in his seat next to Y/N with a grin. Jeonghan scoffs and sits next to Seungcheol a couple rows up. As he buckles his seat belt, Seungcheol’s expression is nearly maniacal and Jeonghan does his best to ignore it. He really can’t ignore it when Seungcheol sings, “So… something you want to tell me?”

Not that he wants to ignore it because he can’t help but beam. “Are you always this nosy?” 

Seungcheol nods, nonplussed. “Did it finally happen? After years of me patiently waiting?”

Jeonghan scoffs, but he’s incredibly entertained. “Years is a stretch. And I recall you punching me one time over something like this. Pick a lane, Cheol.”

“Oh, I picked a lane when we were 22 after I apologized for hitting you. I’m just happy it’s finally happening. How did it happen though?” Seungcheol asks curiously. 

“You want to talk about what I might be doing with your sister? We’ll get thrown off the plane if you hit me here,” Jeonghan needles just to watch Seungcheol’s face twist with disgust. 

After a gag, he says, “No! Spare me the details about that. What I mean is, are you together? And how did that happen?”

Jeonghan decides he’s tortured Seungcheol enough for now, so he grins. “Yes, we’re together. It’s been happening slowly, I think. But we made it official last night.”

Seungcheol genuinely looks happy and it makes Jeonghan kind of emotional in a way that he can’t quite explain. Seungcheol’s opinion matters to him, particularly when it comes to who he dates. Seungcheol never said anything unkind about Sora, but Jeonghan knew he hadn’t cared much for her. And it’s not just anyone that he’s dating now. It’s Y/N. The way Seungcheol grins right now means he approves and it’s a huge weight off of Jeonghan’s shoulders. He doesn’t have to say it and he can’t anyway, because a flight attendant is on the intercom now giving instructions. 

They arrive in Mykonos and they are barely out of the airport doors when Jeonghan and Y/N look at Byeol and then back at each other. Silently, they know they were right and they’ll be back here soon. The hotel they check into is the best one yet for this trip in Jeonghan’s opinion. It’s an ocean side hotel with private beach access and the view from the deck and the bed right inside is incredible. There’s also a rooftop pool that Seungcheol says is the entire reason he picked this place, but they all want to enjoy the beach while the sun is still out. 

Jeonghan and Y/N change and get to the beach first. They pick a couple lounge chairs and Y/N promptly hands him a bottle of sunscreen and sits at the foot of his seat. He doesn’t hesitate to drag her closer so that when he’s done layering her back in the lotion he can wrap his arms around her and place a kiss on her cheek. That’s how Seungcheol and Byeol find them. Byeol coos while Seungcheol gags. “People are going to think you guys are the ones getting married,” Seungcheol needles. 

Y/N peeks back at Jeonghan with a secretive look before grinning at her brother. “Maybe we will. We’ll try not to upstage your wedding.” Jeonghan laughs into her shoulder and Byeol giggles behind her hand while Seungcheol waves them all off with a scoff. 

That night, Jeonghan and Y/N shower together again. It’s overwhelming how Jeonghan can’t get enough of her and the great irony is that she’s been there all along. It’s not just about lightly pushing her into the shower wall and taking her from behind, though he thoroughly enjoys that. It’s the smile she gives him when she turns back around and demands to wash his hair for him, and he only allows it if she goes first. Or the fact that she sits on the closed toilet seat while he brushes and dries her hair after the shower. Or when he helps her pull a t-shirt over her head right before they crawl into bed. He’s always loved taking care of her in the little ways that best friends do but this is a whole new level. 

He realizes they have to go back to the real world in a matter of days and there will be an adjustment to that too. He’s spent every second with her for a week now, and a pretty significant amount together in the weeks before that, and he has to go back to work now? And she has to go back to work? And they don’t live together? 

Jeonghan puts a pin in that thought for now. He just got her back, he doesn’t want to scare her off. 

The next couple days in Greece fly by. There are a few sight-seeing things that they go do, but they spend a lot of time on the beach. On their last night, Seungcheol and Byeol turn in early because they all have an early flight in the morning to go back home, but Y/N and Jeonghan opt to check out the rooftop pool if only to feel like they’re delaying the inevitable. It’s warm when they get in since the sun hasn’t been down for more than a couple hours. The busiest tourist season here has already past and there seem to be very few people staying in this hotel. That means they get the pool to themselves. They look out at the scenery for a while but Jeonghan gets bored of it eventually, beginning to pepper kisses to her neck as he stands behind her. 

“Are you ready to go home tomorrow?” Y/N muses, still looking out at the night sky. 

Jeonghan groans into her shoulder. “No. Can’t we just keep touring Europe forever? A new city every week until we find one we really like and just stay there forever?”

Y/N giggles. “That sounds like a dream, but I don’t think either of us are doing quite that well at our jobs yet. I don’t know about you, but I’m running out of leave time anyway.”

Jeonghan grumbled. He was running out of leave time too, due to this trip and his time recovering after his accident and he really would have to get back to work in just a few days. “I hope you know I’ll be bothering you every spare second you have.”

“That’s good to hear… I was beginning to worry about what things might be like when we get back,” Y/N answers softly and Jeonghan squeezes her a little tighter. 

“How do you want to spend the last night of freedom? It’s a long travel day tomorrow trapped in a cramped plane,” Jeonghan asked lightly and thankfully it lifted the mood. 

Y/N hums, smirking over her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Jeonghan beams. “Was that a dirty joke? Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?” He laughs, pinching her waist lightly, making her giggle. He pecks her cheek. “Well since you asked, we can make use of the lovely shower again. Or the bed, which was pretty nice. Or maybe the deck or the little dining table in our room.” She’s giggling more and Jeonghan’s chest is about to burst. “Or right here in the pool.”

He gets so much enjoyment out of watching her face light up with surprise. “The pool? But anyone could come by.” Her eyes flit to the rooftop entrance behind him. 

“Yeah, angel. That’s kind of the point. What, no exhibition kink for you?” He teases, but she’s still looking around and it feels like the answer is a ‘no’. So he presses another kiss to her cheek. “I’m messing with you. We don’t have to do any of it, least of all out here.”

She’s turned in his arms now, eyes flitting between the door and his face and there’s some serious concentration going on. He waits patiently. Her eyes suddenly narrow up at him. “Do you have an exhibition kink?”

He purses his lips to keep from laughing because she looks so serious. “Yeah, I’m into it. But you need to be too or else we’re not doing anything out here.”

“I’m not saying no, Hannie. I’m just nervous.” And she sounds like it when she laughs. 

He watches her face closely. Finally, he offers, “We could start and if you want to stop you just say so.”

Y/N gives him a hesitant yet sweet smile before folding her hands into the hair at the back of his neck. “Okay.” 

He chuckles against her lips. “Cute.” But then she’s pulling him against her and her tongue is in his mouth. This is something Jeonghan doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of - her mouth and the little sounds she makes, her hands roaming his body, and the feel of her pressed against him. This doesn’t have to even go any farther honestly. He entertains the idea of doing this all night right here. Until the pool is too cold, that is.

Jeonghan grips her waist and lifts her to sit on the edge of the pool. He sees the flash of excitement just like any time he lifts or moves her with some force and he smiles, walking in between her spread legs. Because of the height difference now, he can’t press against her like before, but it’s almost better the way she’s above him now. Now he’s the one tilting his head up and she’s the one leaning down when they kiss again. The urgency of her lips and the way her nails scrape at the back of his scalp make him groan into her mouth. He was trying to play this safe and let her lead, but he couldn’t help how his hands drifted after that. 

He buries one hand in her wet hair, careful not to snag any tangles, and the other cups her breast as he just leans back and watches her. The touch is soft at first, but the way she moans makes him grope a little harder. When he runs his fingers over her nipple through her bikini it’s already stiff and he feels her shudder under his hands. She seems to have forgotten whatever anxieties she had before, so he pulls the triangular fabric to the side to expose her breast. He loses track of time on how long he stands there and works her up, pinching her nipple, groping her, stroking her. At some point, he exposes the other breast too to do the same there. She’s breathless by the time he finally leans down to wrap his lips around her nipple. She jerks violently when he bites, but the sound that comes out of her mouth is too much like a moan for her to not like it so he does it a few more times. 

He’s back up at her lips, a hand still toying with her breast when he asks, “Okay?” It’s clear she’s lost in the bliss because he barely gets a nod, and he debates on pulling her back to reality a bit. Selfishly, he’s enjoying this far too much. He wasn’t kidding about a little bit of an exhibition kink, but she was so nervous before. He grips her chin to look at him and it’s a firmer touch than he’d usually use with her, but it does the trick because her eyes snap open. “Verbal answer, angel.”

“I’m good,” she mumbles. “Keep going, please.” 

He places a single peck to her lips and then steps back because he’s already decided what he wants to try next. His hand lands on her upper chest, fingers grazing her neck. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes shift at the touch and he’ll remember that for later. Instead, he says, “Lie back,” and gently pushes her. She falls back onto her forearms, still looking at him with wide, trusting eyes and it makes him want to burst in so many ways because she looks like a dream. Especially when his hands spread her knees wide and one lands between her legs, cupping her through the string bikini, and she throws her head back. 

His hand on her chest slides to her breast as he pushes the bottoms to the side with the other to stroke her. Her hips jerk when he rubs her clit and then it’s clear she’s having a hard time staying upright on her forearms when he slides two fingers into her, all the while playing with her nipple. “It’s okay, angel, just lay back,” he urges, but she shakes her head. 

“Want to see you.”

Both her words and the sound of her voice makes Jeonghan smile, pumping his fingers a bit faster. “I have an idea.”

Y/N gives him an unfocused look. “Yeah?” 

He decides he wants to keep her talking when she’s like this because it’s making him rock hard. “How many times do you think you can come?” 

“Overstimulation kink?” She laughs faintly. “I don’t know, Hannie.” The sound of his name in that voice almost makes him come right then. “The most I’ve ever had is with you.” 

Jeonghan can’t help the smirk that falls on his lips. “What do you think about me testing that limit? All you’d have to do is tell me to stop when you’ve had enough.” His fingers are still pumping into her and playing with her nipples and she’s barely with him for the conversation. Firmly, he says, “Angel, you need to tell me what you want and what you’re okay with, or I’ll have to stop.”

Panic flashes across her face. “Please don’t stop,” she says in a desperate way that makes his mind melt. “Make me come as many times as I can take.” 

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asked and she nods, mumbling something unintelligible, but it’s enough for Jeonghan now. His hand leaves her breast, sliding up to her neck and that same look from earlier is back, especially when his fingers wrap around her throat delicately. He doesn’t seem to need to apply any real pressure because the placement alone is enough to have her clenching hard on his fingers. “Oh, I’m going to have to use this later,” he groaned. “Come on, let me see you come.” It’s more demanding of a tone than he’d normally use but it has her coming all over his fingers in seconds. He watches her pussy pulsate around them and it makes him ache in his swim trunks. 

He pulls his fingers out and looks down at her one more time when she seems to be hearing him. “Remember, say stop. Or tap me three times.” As soon as he gets a nod, he’s leaning down, hands spreading her knees even wider. 

She barely gets a “what are you-“ out of her mouth before his tongue swipes across her pussy and he moans at the taste. This is something they hadn’t done yet and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. But his goal is to see how many orgasms he can give her, so he doesn’t wait long to wrap his lips around her clit, flicking his tongue across it. She’s already clenching when he slides two fingers back inside her. She comes fast before she even realizes it from the sounds of it, but he keeps going and she’s adopting a whine. She leans on one forearm now as the other hand flies into his hair to grip hard. And that’s how she tips over the edge a third, fourth, and fifth time. 

She’s laying flat on her back when he stands up straight and pulls his fingers out of her. “What do you think? Can you take more?” He asks gently and it’s kind of a joke, because she doesn’t look like she can take much more, but his eyes widen when she nods. He decides he needs to get her somewhere private right now. He pulls her swimsuit back into place carefully and helps her sit up. “Come on, let’s go back to the room.”

The answer is nine times. They get approximately two hours of sleep before they have to be up to go catch their flight. They both sleep most of the way home. 

“Alright, I’ve met all of your requirements. I waited until we were both off. I bought the wine and dumplings. I put your stupid horror movie on. I’ve refrained from teasing you for nearly a week. Now tell me, dammit,” Joshua demanded, turning to her on the couch. Y/N gives him an entertained look. 

It’s Friday around lunch time and she and Joshua finally both had a day off together. He’d started nagging her as soon as she walked in the door on Saturday night, despite it being almost midnight, but Y/N had held up a hand and made a few demands. He had whined, but when she didn’t budge he just huffed and went to bed. But he made it clear first thing this morning that they had plans. 

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Y/N says, trying to hide her smirk behind a dumpling. 

Joshua looks like his head might explode. “Y/N! You spent over a week in Europe with your best friend, who you’re into, and who has been attached to your back, quite literally, every moment that neither of you are at work, and you have nothing to tell me?”

Y/N hides a laugh. Joshua is right, of course. If they were both off, Jeonghan was here or she was at his apartment. He happened to be at work right now, which is why Joshua had this opportunity to interrogate her. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Oh, I know something happened, I just want the details,” Joshua insisted. He hadn’t even touched his food or drink yet because he was too busy glaring.

“You are such a gossip,” Y/N snorted. “Fine, here it goes. We’re together. We got together during the trip.” 

“… And?” Joshua waved his hands to demand more.

“And what?” Y/N gave him a baffled look. “I told you what’s going on. We’re dating. What more do you need? Do you want to know everywhere we had sex too?”

It was a joke but it has Joshua gasping. “Are you serious? Everywhere, as in multiple times?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not something you need to know about,” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

He adopts a sly look. “Was it one of the outfits I made you pack?”

Y/N rolls her eyes yet again. “Technically speaking, it was a contributor. I hated it but he didn’t.” She still didn’t like that royal purple dress, but it got hung back up in her closet somewhere in the middle, rather than the dark recesses in the back, just in case she’d ever entertain pulling it out for Jeonghan again.

“I knew it,” Joshua yells, throwing a fist into the air in celebration. “You’re welcome. I got you laid after a very, very, very long dry spell.”

“Mhm, well, you can stop worrying about my sex life now. Thank you so much,” Y/N says sarcastically. 

“Oh, no. We’re circling back to that. But for now all I want to know is if you’re happy.”Y/N peers over her styrofoam box of dumplings at Joshua. He looks pretty serious now, waiting for an answer. She doesn’t have to think long before she smiles and nods. “And it feels right?” He adds.

“Yeah it does,” Y/N says lightly. “Everything always has with him. Even though we were both nervous wrecks when this started to shift into something else, it still felt right.”

Joshua gives her a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. You’ve been alone too long and I worry about you. And from what I’ve seen of you two together, it’s seamless.”

“Thanks, Joshua. I know I haven’t been the easiest to live with in that regard. I mope around a lot.”

“You do,” Joshua laughs. “But you have this… glow about you now that I think people only get when they’re in love. Is that what this is?”

Y/N bit her lip. “I’m not sure yet… I’ve always loved him, but now it’s something strong but I can’t assign a name to it right now.” After a moment, she smiles, adding, “And according to Hannie, it’s a sparkle, not a glow.”

“Sparkle. That’s a good word for it,” Joshua laughs, agreeing. “Can I request one thing though?” Y/N hums. “Can you guys not fuck loudly while I’m sleeping? I have a very serious job and I need my rest! These walls are thin!” A dumpling flies into his face.

Byeol had, in fact, picked Greece, the exact hotel they’d stayed at to be specific. Both Byeol and Seungcheol had given Y/N and Jeonghan perplexed looks when they laughed at the ‘huge’ announcement. Y/N had just simply said, “We know, Byeol. We knew it would be Greece all along.” This made Byeol spiral a bit because she felt like she’d wasted so much time and money to figure it out when two of her best friends had already known, and Seungcheol spent a long time convincing her it was no big deal and they just had a good vacation either way. He also refused to let her see the receipts in his email. None of them actually wanted to know how much he’d spent on this little exploratory trip. 

So, they book the venue for next May and take the all-inclusive wedding package that the venue offers. That really means they just have to show up with themselves, their outfits, and the rings and the thought makes Byeol’s shoulders relax immediately. They start pouring over lists of meals, cakes, decor, and flowers that the hotel can provide. When Jeonghan’s eyes widen at the stack of papers in front of him, Y/N promises this is nothing compared to what it could be. Most weddings would require going through multiple vendors and that opens up an overwhelming amount of options than what is listed from the hotel. It’s actually a blessing in disguise to have a wedding coordinator from the hotel put these sort of things together because they know what would look best, given the setting. 

So, most of October, November, and December are spent doing that in their spare moments together. The week before Christmas, all that’s left to get back to the hotel is the decor and flower choices, which are being held up by the many color swatches spread across Byeol and Seungcheol’s dining room table. They can’t pick the wedding colors and that confuses Jeonghan and Seungcheol when they’re handed nearly identical shades of blue to pick from. One is cyan and one is dark turquoise according to the printing on the bottom of the swatch but there’s so little difference that both men randomly pick one. The girls ultimately decide on dark turquoise and send their answers for decor and flowers off.

On Christmas Eve in the afternoon, Jeonghan shows up at Y/N’s apartment and lets himself in. “I’m almost ready!” A yell comes from down the hall and it makes Jeonghan laugh. He laughs harder when he comes into her room and sees that she is, in fact, not almost ready. There are a lot of discarded outfits on the bed, she’s just starting her make up, and her hair is still wet. 

“What happened, angel? You said 2pm, right?”

Y/N gives him a frazzled look as he leans on the door frame of the bathroom. “I know, but I overslept. I had to work a couple hours later than I expected and didn’t get here until 7am, and then my alarm didn’t go off at 1!” 

She’s speedily doing her makeup, but between tools, Jeonghan puts a hand on her back to interrupt her. “Angel, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. I’m not in a hurry. Dinner will still be there when we get there.”

The mention of dinner makes something flash across her face that Jeonghan hates. It’s because they’re going to meet her father, stepmother, and Jeonghan’s parents for dinner. She would have been frazzled about being late any day of the week, but their destination tonight amplifies her anxiety. “I know, but you know how my father is.”

He does and he bites his tongue as not to add to her anxiety. “And you’re 31, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Take a deep breath and finish getting ready. Slow down some.”

Jeonghan relaxes a little when she listens, taking a few breaths before picking up her makeup again. Then she dries and curls her hair. He leads her out to his car, holding the passenger side door open for her to slide in. During the drive, he tries to focus on quelling her anxiety, but he has his own to deal with and holding her thigh with her hand on top of his helps.

Jeonghan’s not close to his parents and hasn’t really been in a long time. Nothing dramatic, but as soon as he wasn’t their legal responsibility anymore, they took a big step back in the name of giving him independence. That independence also meant a single call once a month while he was in college, and even fewer now that he’s been out. They’d visited him briefly at the hospital after his accident earlier in the year, which surprised him a bit, but they’d only called once since then. So, their relationship wasn’t hostile, but there was some pretty significant distance and coming together for something like this had an air of awkwardness.

Y/N’s, and Seungcheol’s to some extent, was actually hostile however. Their parents had a nasty divorce when they were 15 and their father had left their mother with very little in the separation, including custody. His high priced lawyer had managed to convince a judge that their mother didn’t have the means to care for the twins. During the short time that Y/N and Seungcheol had been in their father’s custody, their father had remarried quickly to the young secretary that he’d been seeing on the side for years. That stepmother, Nari, had been particularly cruel to Y/N, up to and including shipping her off to a boarding school across the country citing behavioral issues. That had always been an asinine reason to Jeonghan because Y/N was as straight laced as a teenager could be and had never talked back to an adult in her life. 

Y/N had lasted about three months in boarding school before the twins’ mother had had enough and drove up to pull her out of the school and take her home. That started a nasty custody battle, which their mother ultimately won. Since then, the twins didn’t go out of their way to visit their father and their father didn’t reach out either. Christmas Eve dinner was one of the few times that they couldn’t really say no, and Jeonghan didn’t like who either twin became in that house. 

They pull up to the front of the house and Jeonghan gives Y/N a few moments to pull herself together. “In and out, a couple of hours. Then we’re at the hotel with some Christmas movies and eggnog.”

Y/N gives him a half-hearted smile. “You don’t like eggnog.”

Jeonghan squeezes her hand. “But you do. Come on.”

The front door flies open when they knock and Sohee greets him with a big smile. Sohee is wife number 4 and Jeonghan has met her a few times, as has Y/N. She’s nice, so much nicer than wifes 2 and 3 that it makes Jeonghan feel a bit bad for her. “I’m so glad you guys could make it! Here, I’ll take your coats. Was the drive okay?” Sohee asks excitedly, ushering them inside.

“Not too bad,” Jeonghan asks, shedding his coat and handing it to Sohee, before turning to Y/N to help her out of her coat. 

“We’re not too late, are we? I overslept,” Y/N admitted nervously. Jeonghan’s dimly aware that she would have never admitted this to someone like Nari to use for ammunition. 

But Sohee grins kindly. “Oh, no. Dinner’s not quite out yet and we’re just having drinks right now. Rough night?” Sohee asks sympathetically. 

“Something like that,” Y/N mumbles with a small smile. Jeonghan imagines she’s still very uncomfortable with the stepmother situation, but she’s warmer to Sohee than he’d seen with Nari or Minju. 

Sohee leads them to the sitting room and Jeonghan feels some relief that Seungcheol and Byeol are already here. Their father is in an arm chair and looks like he’s already a few drinks deep. Jeonghan’s heard through the grapevine at work that the big boss has developed a little bit of a habit over the years, but Jeonghan tries to spend very little time with him to see for himself.

Once Y/N and Jeonghan are seated on the couch, Sohee smiles at them. “I’ll make you two a drink. I forget, do you like grenadine?” Both nod their head and Sohee is off.

“Seungcheol and Byeol were just telling me about how the wedding planning is going,” Y/N’s father starts lightly. 

Y/N nodded politely. “Yes, it’s all starting to come together. I think it’ll be a beautiful ceremony.”

“That’s all thanks to you, Y/N,” Byeol beamed, before turning to Mr. Choi. “She’s been such a huge help in keeping me sane and on track. Jeonghan, too.”

Mr. Choi nods. “Good to hear.” Then he turns with an expression that Jeonghan has never really seen in 30 years. “I hear you two have some news as well.”

Y/N and Jeonghan glance across the coffee table to Seungcheol and Byeol who give subtle shakes of the head. It’s kind of a mystery how Mr. Choi knows, but Jeonghan nods, smiling professionally. After all, this is his CEO. “Yes, sir. We’ve been dating for a few months now.”

Mr. Choi gives a big grin and Jeonghan feels Y/N grip his hand tightly. “It’s about time.”

Jeonghan feels his eyes widen and Y/N glances to him with matching shock. “Uhm, excuse me?” Y/N asked. It’s to their great surprise that Seungcheol and Byeol are giggling now. This is feeling a bit like the twilight zone because laughter isn’t something that’s terribly common in this house.

“We’ve been taking bets for a long time,” Mr. Choi says vaguely. “Any wedding bells in the future? I have some money at risk and I’d like to know.”

Y/N is still gripping his hand tight and one glance to her tells Jeonghan that she won’t be answering, so Jeonghan speaks up again. “We’re not opposed to it, but things are still very new,” he says diplomatically.

“Fair enough. One wedding at a time, right?” Mr. Choi says lightly again. 

Sohee arrives with their drinks as well as Jeonghan’s parents. The same conversations are rehashed with them as well, and Jeonghan does most of the talking when it’s their turn because Y/N’s knuckles are turning white. 

At the dining table, Sohee serves a rather lavish meal that she looks pretty proud of. Jeonghan enjoys it, but he sees that Y/N is taking bites only to be polite. Throughout dinner, Mr. Choi, Sohee, and Jeonghan’s parents ask the typical questions of Seungcheol and Byeol regarding wedding planning. 

Jeonghan’s mother smiles at them and Jeonghan knows what’s coming because he’s seen that look before. “And when do you plan on having children?”

Byeol flushes a bit but smiles nonetheless, glancing at Seungcheol. “As soon as we’re married?” The older adults laugh.

“Be careful with that, you should enjoy some time by yourselves, because you’ll never have it again,” Jeonghan’s father teases. It makes Jeonghan’s eye twitch because he spent a lot of time with nannies growing up. 

“Byeol, will you continue working after you have children?” Sohee asked. She doesn’t seem to mean anything by it. She was a lawyer before marrying Y/N’s father, and still consults on some cases from time to time.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet. Since I’m freelance, I can do a lot on my own schedule, so it might not be necessary to quit working. Plus, I enjoy my work,” Byeol says. 

Mr. Choi frowns. “But children are far more important than work, especially for a mother.” Byeol agrees, but Mr. Choi is on a roll, turning to Seungcheol. “You’d want her to work, rather than stay at home?”

“Appa, that’s up to her. Plenty of people make it work and children don’t seem to suffer for it,” Seungcheol says, clearly biting back a bit of impatience. 

Mr. Choi turns to Jeonghan and Y/N. “And you two? What will you do when you have children?”

Jeonghan tries to maintain a poker face. “I agree with Seungcheol. Y/N’s spent a lot of time working on her degrees. It would be a shame in a way to not use them.”

“It’s not a waste if it’s for your children,” Mr. Choi snaps. “Y/N, would you seriously continue working, particularly with the crazy schedule you keep?”

There’s a fire in Y/N’s eyes that he doesn’t see often. She’s not quick to anger, but that’s not the case tonight. She’s been at a tipping point since they pulled into the driveway. “Appa, we’ve just started dating. Marriage and children aren’t even part of the conversation for us right now. And even if it was, you’d want me to throw away over a decade of education? I’m not even licensed yet.”

“Your stupid license means very little compared to my grandchild,” Mr. Choi rages. 

“Is that what you said to Eomma when she wanted to go to nursing school?” Y/N bites and it makes most jaws at the table drop. Y/N has always been so even tempered and has certainly never talked back to her parents - or anyone older than her for that matter.

Sohee interrupts and does her best to save the conversation, but it does very little to release the tension for the remainder of the dinner. They get through the main course and dessert and Jeonghan makes the excuse that they should go soon. Seungcheol and Byeol look a little relieved to be able to use the same excuse too. Y/N all but runs to the car when Sohee sees them out and Jeonghan is barely out of the driveway before she’s crying. 

It’s a short drive to the hotel since they’re visiting Y/N’s mother in town tomorrow morning, but Jeonghan decides that if this lasts long enough to see marriage and children, which he hopes it does, he won’t let her father have this kind of power over her anymore.

[martsonmars]

Hi friends! I keep committing and recommitting to making a serious effort to come back to the fandom, and I think this time finally I got my Snowbaz feelings back for real. So I'm going to try. Thank you to everyone who kept tagging me; I'm a little lost re: new people existing on Tumblr, but I hope to catch up!

So much to do in this post. For now, some snippets.

Exhibit A: my writing goal for the month. It's okay if it doesn't work out, but I decided I need short-term writing goals and this is my first one.

Baz pushes his sunglasses up his nose, staring at the man behind the counter of the shop. He hopes that hiding in plain sight—without his costume, without his mask—is a more effective disguise than trying to wear a fake moustache.

The apron is there, gloriously stretching over a broad chest that does not turn Baz's insides into soup and make him wish he could go back three—five, ten—years and do everything differently.

Exhibit B: COBB idea. I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going right is never the right choice.

I've known this since the first time my father brought me along on his travels (read: I hid in his trunk) and I had to face a crocodile armed only with a blunt Swiss Army knife I'd stolen from said trunk. All because I'd turned right. And then right again.

When he found me, scraped knees and his precious knife lost in the belly of the beast, he didn't even yell. He just looked at me like he always did. Like the biggest disappointment in his life of failures.

Exhibit C: potential second COBB idea, that I'm going to submit only if I make enough progress by the end of the month.

[Baz] holds my hand like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. Present. The minutes are trickling away from us like sand in a broken hourglass. The sun hasn't started rising yet, the night as dark as it gets, the cold seeping into our bones.

He holds my hand like he's afraid he'd float away if he didn't.

I know I'd be glad if it happened.

I have a lot of fandom resolutions for this year and I'm scared they'll end up like any New Year's resolutions... but I'll list them anyway. 6 resolutions Sunday:

Be more involved on Tumblr. I want to post more, but especially start reblogging and commenting on things again.

Write more. Last year I wrote so little and posted even less, and it made me sad when I realised it in the past days. So much was going on, so I don't blame myself, but I miss writing and I believe I can try to make it a regular thing again.

I want to read more fics. It's been years since I last read fics consistently. I missed everything!! Time to slowly catch up.

Relatedly, I want to try to comment more. I've never been a great commenter because it overwhelms me, but it's hypocritical since I need everyone and their brother to leave 10 paragraph long comments on everything I write... So I want to commit to doing better.

I want to try to publish a fic every month, at least. @palimpsessed suggested doing some sort of monthly countdown to Carry On's birthday in October and I'm all in.

I want to succeed at COBB. For one reason or the other, more often than not because I am cursed and I never finished writing my things, I've never managed to start and finish posting something for COBB. But I have two concepts I'm so excited about (not sure yet if I'll try both of them) and I want to commit to doing well. Wish me good luck.

My good old tagging list <3 I hope to add new people soon! But hi my dear old friends, how's it going?

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @noblecorgi @j-nipper-95

[moons-and-runes]

Writing Goals for 2025!

💖 My main goal for the year is to finish writing at least one entire fic (but hopefully I’ll complete multiple)

🛳️ I have a oneshot idea for Benverly which isn’t really a new ship for me but I’ve never written for them before. I think I’d also like to write some Marylene stuff :)

🤔 Following on from the last Q, Ben, Bev, Mary and Marlene are characters I’ve not written before

🥸 Yes, I have a friend who I share most of my ideas with who also has some fic ideas in the works 👀

🥵…We’ll see. And if I do there’s no guarantee I would even post it lol

👻 Technically any genre is a new genre for me as I’ve never finished writing a whole story

🦄 I have a dual POV wip at the moment of Sirius and Regulus Black :)))

🐌 To finish a oneshot (3k - 10k words)

🦖 No I’m really only interested in writing IT and HP fics

🍄 None that I can think of atm but that might change as I read and watch more perhaps I’ll join a new fandom this year

🌈 Oh I’ve already done a ton of research for multiple of my wips. Things like looking up lunar cycle calendars, weather forecasts and major events from previous years as well as finding every character’s canon birthday and creating ones for those who don’t have one 😭 I have put in WORK!

✨ I’m pretty good at English overall but I guess spelling and grammar are my strongest areas. Although I do find myself wanting to look up certain grammar at times to double check I’m using it correctly.

🥕 Timeline? Plot line? Not sure how to word it but just managing to get all my separate ideas and scenes to flow into each other and form the bigger picture/full story

🫘 Currently in the works I have a reddie fic from Eddie’s pov (but with a twist), the dual pov Black brothers fic, a wolfstar au inspired by one of my favourite books and an angsty semi canon-compliant wolfstar fic

🥳 Allow myself to start making art based on my stories. I think if I do that before the fics are finished I’ll just end up settling for the art and never finishing the writing. However when I finish a fic I can then make art and also use it as the fic cover!

🎃 Yes I think it would be fun to do some holiday oneshots, especially Halloween and Christmas (or for character’s birthdays if I remember)

🐾 I’d like to say yes but I struggle so much with deadlines I just don’t see myself finishing within the short time frame 😔

✍️ Hits and Comments! I’d like to know that people are actually reading and enjoying the stuff I put out especially when I’ve worked so hard on it :) I would say kudos but since you’re only allowed to leave 1 per fic the numbers wouldn’t be as accurate to how many people are actually reading/enjoying it

👾 Not finishing wips 💀 I have so many ideas for fics and random notes in multiple places and I just need to focus on finishing the few I’ve started

🤖 Not really. I write wherever and whenever the inspiration hits. Whether at my computer, on my phone or on my iPad. And usually I’ll be in bed or at my desk

🦷 Any of the super angsty scenes I have planned (none of them are fully formed ideas yet though so I can’t share snippets or say what in particular I’m scared to write)

💥 Heheheh yes but I can’t really say bc I don’t want to spoil my current favourite wip. It involves brotherly bickering though :)

🍕 Posting schedules aren’t important to me. I’ll post whenever I want to post. However I think I’d like to have the full fic finished before I start posting it. That way there’s no chance I’ll abandon it as a wip with a cliffhanger

🛏️ Again, pretty much any trope is a new trope as someone who has never finished a piece of writing 😭

🪩 Not sure if this is specifically a writing habit but I’m super proud of the ideas I come up with and I’d like to continue developing my existing ideas as well as creating new ones

🎉 I will acknowledge that this is the first year I have set any writing goals and that I can always finish off my goals next year, just like how I’ve only completed 1/4 of my Goodreads goals so far

💌 Yes!! Although I think I need to build more of a following on here/ao3 before that happens :)

PHEW! that was a lot!! But also very fun!! I can’t wait to get more into my writing this year and hopefully 🤞 finish one (or more) of my wips

tagging: @staliamazing

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: Retcon

The main idea is this: it's a narrative game where the majority of the gameplay involves placing the pieces of your own past.

This is at least partially lifted from some tabletop games that have "retcon inventory" or "retcon friends" where you declare in the middle of play "oh, actually, it's plausible that I had prepared for this all along, and here's how I did in fact do that", even if the player would have had no way of knowing what was necessary for that. (I have not had a chance to play Blades in the Dark, but I've been told that it features this heavily.)

So the whole game would be this: slowly adding to your own backstory, penning yourself in over time, until there's no room to maneuver anymore, and shortly thereafter, the game ends. The fundamental tension of the game is that you want to keep the character as amorphous as possible, to commit to as few details as possible, but commitment is necessary to actually accomplish things.

In my mind, there's a timeline of the character's life, and that's one of the main thing you're adding to. If you need them to have skill as a pickpocket, you need to account for that somewhere in the timeline, to define how and when they acquired that skill, and whatever time period that was suddenly becomes locked in place. Some level of proficiency in combat can be explained by a rough childhood or a hobby or just bits and pieces picked up here and there, but at a certain level you need to commit to having had multiple years of real world experience, a hefty bar slotted down into the timeline.

The basic appeal to me is that it sort of turns progression mechanics on its head. If you really wanted to, maybe you could slap everything onto the timeline at once, an entire defined life with every memory, skill, and contact determined right at the start. But this would almost certainly sink you unless you knew every twist and turn of the game ahead of time. And in this game "progression" does not come from increasing skills because you got better, it comes from defining the past. (Though there's no reason you can't also have material progression as you acquire more and better things.)

This is also, somewhat, what the process of writing can be like. You nail down things piece by piece, and over time, you're penned in, unable to move except along the tracks you've hopefully laid for yourself, no ability to introduce new things.

I'm not entirely sure what kind of game this mechanic is best suited to. A narrative game would be interesting, but the player is attempting to define as little of the character's past as possible, and ... does this even work for a narrative? The player's version of events is that they're (more or less) trying to keep backstory from happening, that's baked into the concept. It creates an uneasy tension.

A less narrative game, like an immersive sim, might work better. You decide that you spent at least three years as a thief in order to "gain" (i.e. have always had) lock-picking skills, with enough room in the timeline that you can add an extra few years if need be later on.

And of course this works for skills, but it also works for relationships, which I think is fun. In a normal RPG type game, you gain relationship points over time by being a good buddy, but with this framework, you would be revealing backstory that was "there all along". And depending on your needs, you can have this be different backstory, giving certain side characters the same amorphous nature, establishing different relationships with them.

The other option (since I'm a writer, not a game designer) is to try to import this idea into a work of written fiction, which ... might work?

You have your protagonist, and they know that they're a reality-warping amorphous blob, but they have some kind of goal, and they will lock in whatever backstory they need in order to accomplish that goal, while trying to stay cognizant of the fact that whatever backstory they give themselves (and the reader) is going to pen them in further. Maybe there's a nice little magic system to make of it, though I think that would necessitate some kind of reset mechanism.

It might be hubris, but I think I could probably find the structure that would make it work. Cool scenes:

The protagonist is acting in such a way to leave all his options open, which means that he wants to avoid a fight because that would mean either confirming that he can fight or that he can't fight, collapsing the superposition, so he's going out of his way to not have to make that decision.

The protagonist retroactively was always friends with a police officer who took him in, making all the chilly conversation they've been having the result of an ongoing grudge.

The protagonist takes a big swing and fills in a whole swath of his past at once, a major investment ... and one that upends his stated goals up to this point, recontextualizing the entire novel and making it "about" someone else.

Plus all that "standard" stuff to do, like retroactively knowing how to ride a motorcycle, handle a gun, hold breath for two minutes, etc.

I don't know, I think that it could work in prose, so long as you're clever enough about how and why you're doing things, and correctly explaining things to the audience.

[not-poignant]

Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.

*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

I am a professional writer!

My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.

I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.

As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.

(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)

Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).

It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.

I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).

When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.

I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.

Here's an example of my tracking:

You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.

April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.

And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.

This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.

Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.

That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about

Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!

I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.

I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!

For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.

But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.

Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!

[hugherin]

I CAN SEE THE END AS IT BEGINS.

when zaya decides to spend her vacation in Davos to escape from reality, but ends up crossing paths with Nico Hischier, who has the same goal. pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4.

pairing: nico hischier x reader

warnings: none <3

With the end of the university period, the first thing that crossed your mind was: vacation. A well-deserved vacation. Spending the summer in Davos to escape the chaos of the big city and the problems that insisted on following you was everything you could ask for if a genie in a bottle asked. You just wanted tranquility, hikes through the Alps, and time to reorganize your mind. Thus, you decided to embark on the trip alone, without any friends. It had been a while since you decided to be more independent, considering you had spent your whole life under the watchful eye of your parents or even relying on the opinions of your friends, no matter how cool they were.

It was through this decision that you found yourself in a small town in Switzerland. A cold place, with no familiar faces bringing past problems, and the best part: no academic activities.

Everything seemed perfect: your cappuccino at the perfect temperature, your gloves finally warming your hands, an amazing book on the table (an autobiography of your favorite artist about how to deal with adult life without going crazy). The snow falling and contrasting with the sun made everything even more fantastic.

Until your attention, focused on the tranquility of the trip, shifted to the man who had just entered.

Nico Hischier — a face you recognized from one of the sports tabloids your dad watched, but who seemed much more human under the soft light of the Swiss summer. You took another sip of your cappuccino, observing the harmony of his face. Usually, you didn’t tend to observe people like that, especially men.

Given your history, you couldn’t say you had made the most of your adolescence or even the early years of university, having only gone out with one person. It didn’t last as long as you would have liked, but two years were enough for you to understand that sometimes, trusting destiny is the best way to avoid problems for yourself.

Nico was also wearing gloves like you, a very thick navy blue jacket, and a black beanie, which matched his rosy skin tone — probably due to the cold.

He discreetly made his order and then seemed to bend down to pick up a thin rectangular piece of paper. Looking around the café and noticing that, among the few people, you were the only one with a book on the table, he quickly assumed it was yours, walking over to you.

“I think this is yours.” he handed you the flowery bookmark, making you look up, somewhat surprised.

“Oh, thank you. I'm not usually this clumsy."

“Well, at least you didn’t spill the coffee too. That would’ve been a complete disaster.” His comment brought a small smile to your lips.

“Considering my luck, it’s a very likely scenario.” you crossed your legs. He glanced briefly at the book’s cover, seemingly trying to remember something.

“This book is my sister’s favorite. She’s obsessed with this artist." he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Really? She’s amazing. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but she’s extremely intense.”

“My sister said something like that too. Something about how she talks about life’s flaws being different. More real. Is it really that interesting?” You were genuinely impressed by the genuine interest.

Honestly, you didn’t hate men. But seeing one interested in an artist’s autobiography was surprising. They do say that men with sisters have a real heart.

“Definitely! She doesn’t try to seem perfect. It feels like you’re on a therapist’s couch hearing the best life advice.”

“That sounds like something that keeps you hooked. My sister even tried to convince me to read it so she would have someone to talk about it with, but honestly, I didn’t make it past the cover.” He said, and you quickly looked at the book cover. It was half of the woman’s face, with her blue eyes staring at the reader. Honestly, it didn’t look that attractive.

“Well, if you change your mind, I can lend it to you once I’m done.”

“I’ll consider it. She will be thrilled; I think she’d kiss your feet for convincing me.”

“If that happens, we could start a book club to discuss it.” you said, with a complete sense of humor.

He laughs in response, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes also close.

“Deal. Just don’t let the bookmark fall again. Maybe I won’t be quick enough to save you.”

Maybe? So he’s from here? — you thought.

His name is called by the barista at the counter. He quickly waves goodbye, grabs his drink, and leaves the café.

You wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a friendly person, it wasn’t for a bad reason — it was just in your blood. With Nico, it felt like you had known each other for decades.

Intrigued, you kept drinking your coffee and opened the book, resuming your reading.

The day was clear, with the sun shining brightly in the blue sky, but the cool breeze from the Alps softened the heat, making it the perfect weather for a walk. The trail wound through tall, sturdy trees, creating small tunnels of shade along the path. Further ahead, open fields revealed a sea of wildflowers in shades of yellow and white, gently swaying with the wind. It was truly paradise.

The sound of rustling leaves and distant bird songs echoed in the air, interrupted only by the occasional snap of twigs beneath your feet. The fresh scent of earth and pine was comforting, filling your lungs with every deep breath.

The view widened as you climbed the trail. Snow-covered mountains appeared on the horizon, contrasting with the intense green of the vegetation around. In the distance, a small lake sparkled under the sunlight, looking like a natural mirror.

You then pulled out your phone to take a photo. It was almost impossible to leave without wanting to capture a piece of this to remember when you were gone.

livelyzaya has made a new post.

liked by mayalively, ceciadams and 53 others.

livelyzaya: just fantastic.

ceciadams: what a beautiful view, i miss you :(

mayalively: glad you're having fun, sweetie! take care. <3

You were so immersed in the beauty around you that you almost didn’t notice the sound of footsteps coming behind you, firm and rhythmic, until a familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“I thought I’d be the only one here today. Looks like we underestimated Davos." Nico said, smiling. He wasn’t wearing a beanie this time, just his loose hair — it seemed recently cut but still maintained a slightly long appearance — a red jacket, and a hiking backpack.

“And it seems you have a talent for showing up in the right places." you said, smiling. It wasn’t flirting; it was genuinely curious to find him in the café and then, a few days later, in a completely different place.

“Or maybe I’m just following you." he said, smiling, quickly shutting down when he noticed you didn’t smile back. A woman alone, in the middle of nowhere and out of her home country; what could go wrong, right? “I’m just kidding.” he added, looking worried.

“I thought I’d have a peaceful day. Now, unfortunately, I’ll have to share the view." you said, humorously.

Nico made a dramatic gesture, typical of a royal court member, clearing the way for you to go ahead.

“I promise I won’t disturb you. I’m great at silence, if you prefer." you raised an eyebrow in response.

“I don’t know if I believe that, but you can join me. Just hope you’re not terrible at uphill walks.”

Nico gave you a look of extreme indignation. You had completely forgotten he was the captain of a team in a sport that demands extreme physical conditioning.

“Terrible at uphill walks? I play ice hockey. Uphills aren’t a problem for me.” you smiled, walking ahead and starting the climb.

“That’s what we’ll find out.”

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Nico pointed to your backpack, correctly guessing you were carrying the book you’d talked about last time.

“Did you finish the book, or is it still dragging on?”

You laughed, a mix of humor and exhaustion. Unlike Nico, although you enjoyed hiking and walks, you handled scalpels and medicine much better than methods of how-to-climb-a-mountain-without-having-a-heart-attack.

“Almost done. I’m just postponing it because I don’t want it to end. But I know I’ll reread it, so it’s not that bad.” Nico looked at you with a curious gaze, still walking behind you.

“Do you always reread books you like?”

The question made you thoughtful, showing in your expression as you tried to remember how many times you had done that (many).

“If they’re good enough to leave a mark, yes. I think some stories deserve to be revisited.” Nico slowly nodded.

“That makes sense. I think I do that with some memories, instead of books.”

“Good analogy. Too bad some memories aren’t as kind as books.” Nico paused briefly and stared at the horizon behind him. It was beautiful.

“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. They stay there, even if you don’t want them.”

Whoa. Deep. You quickly tried to break the mood.

“Maybe you should write about that. Who knows, an autobiography to rival your sister’s favorite.”

Nico laughed, eyes closed, going back to walking behind you.

“I don’t think I’m that interesting. But if I need a co-author, I’ll let you know.”

When you reached the top, you were speechless. You were absolutely amazed by what the view offered.

“You were right. This view is amazing. I can’t believe we’re the only ones seeing this right now.” you said, out of breath but enchanted.

“I told you it was incredible. This is real.” Nico said, smiling at you instead of at the landscape. His act made you feel a small shiver down your spine, but the cold made you doubt the reason why.

You shared a moment of silence, with the soft breeze of the Alps around you. For the first time in a long time, you felt that the present was stronger than any memory or worry.

"We've been talking all this time and I don't even know your name." You make an offended expression.

"Wow, what a gentleman. First you invade my trail, and only now do you notice that?" you say, placing your hand on your chest dramatically and with a tone of indignation. Nico laughs and defends himself.

"Technically, you invaded my trail. I was just polite enough to follow." you shrug. That seems fair.

"Good point. I'm Zaya."

"Zaya." Nico repeats your name, as if he likes the way it sounds. "It suits you. My name is Nico." he says innocently.

"I know who you are." You let out a small laugh, noticing his slightly confused expression, but still seeming to enjoy the situation.

"Oh, so you knew who I was? Are you a stalker or something?" he says, making you laugh again.

"My dad is a huge hockey fan. I think he knows more about the New Jersey Devils than about me." you say.

"And you?" Nico looks at you with a curious gaze.

"I hate hockey." you say with a more serious expression, while Nico quickly makes an offended face, this time looking real.

"Hate it? Is this personal? Seems offensive. How can someone hate the greatest sport in the world?"

Nico still keeps the offended expression, but can't hide the corner-of-the-mouth smile that appears as soon as he realizes you're joking.

"I just don’t get the fascination for a sport where people push each other on ice and hit each other with sticks."

"Hockey is much more than that. You should try it."

"Skating?" you shake your head, seeing the offer as something totally unacceptable. "No, thanks. I could never keep my balance on asphalt, let alone on ice."

Nico laughs because he actually finds it funny, but changes the tone of the conversation to something genuine.

"That's all you need. I can teach you. Believe me, you're going to love it."

"Teach?" you look at him with suspicion, but with your eyes still sparkling with possibility. "Not convinced." Nico shrugs confidently.

"Well, since you don’t like it, maybe I have to show you what you're missing. How about a bet?"

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by what could come next. "A bet? On what?"

Nico gets closer, you could swear you've seen that challenging expression on the ice during the games your dad begged you to watch with him on holidays.

"You’ve never learned to skate, right? We can try. If you like it, promise me you'll at least try to watch a game, but if you don’t like it, you’ll join me on one of the hardest trails in Davos. What do you think?" he says, crossing his arms.

"Sounds tempting..." you say, with an ironic tone.

"I'm serious. Just one day. I won’t pressure you to fall in love with the sport. If you still hate it afterward, I’ll read the autobiography."

You’ve always been the most competitive kid at school, and to be honest, that hadn’t changed in adulthood. A challenge? It was like Nico was swimming in a sea of sharks, and you were the hungriest shark in the school. You look around, as if contemplating, before finally giving in.

"Okay, you’ve convinced me. But if I don’t like it, besides reading the autobiography, you’ll have to join me on a trail harder than anything you've done before."

"Deal." Nico says with a big smile. "I’m not going to miss this."

"Just don’t ask me to become a fan of the Devils. I’m still not on that team." Nico laughs at your audacity.

"Talking like that to the team captain is crazy. We’ll see how you do on the ice. If you don’t fall, I’ll put you in to replace Jack Hughes." You smile at the thought of a possible new job.

Still talking about the amazing view, you both start heading back to the flatland. Nico mentions the city’s frozen lake, setting the "private lesson" for tomorrow at 3 pm.

Arriving at your initial destination, the sun is lower now, painting the sky with golden and orange hues. The soft sound of footsteps on the freshly melted snow blends with the light breeze that continues to caress the trees. You walk side by side, the conversation now more laid-back, as Nico talks a bit about what it’s like to deal with hockey and the crazy pressure placed on athletes of the sport.

When you part ways, you feel that, despite the teasing, there’s something more peaceful and sincere between you two now. The fresh mountain air and the sound of nature around you reinforce the feeling that maybe that summer in Davos could be more than just a random encounter.

[kj-crayons]

1. The Prologue from Into the Woods

2. Was Gilmore Girls, anymore I don’t watch very much TV

3. Writing more than reading anymore. I used to be a huge reader but I just don’t have as much time for it as I would like

4. A cool summer breeze at midnight when the air is the best it’s been all day but still warm and in the 80’s

5. Noise canceling headphones + punk rock music + going for a walk

6. Eucalyptus and citrus scents. Cinnamon/ fally scents are kinda triggering, but anything that smells like spring is lovely

7. Honestly, myself. I feel like me when I am alone, or when I’m in control of my situation

8. Old, fuzzy fabric car interior chairs

9. I unfortunately don’t remember much of my childhood, but probably when I finally figured out how to ride a bike

10. Silly Christmas pictures with my baby brother

11. Weighted blanket

12. Weight, warmth, and music

13. Shower

14. Running tech on a new theater show

15. Toast with butter and cinnamon sugar

16. I haven’t decided what it is yet, but whatever my next cosplay will be

17. Time and attention and care. People who notice when I’m anxious or who will sit and talk to me after a long day. Being reminded to take care of my chronic conditions is rather ignore, being held and kept warm by another person

18. I imagine my 30’s. Financial independence from my parents, choose where I live and work and who I’m around, hopefully have a steady enough job. Freedom from the things that stop me from being me now

19. Haven’t ever received a love letter, and what I’ve written has been mostly sappy poetry 🫢

20. When I was 4 or 5 and my dad woke me and my brother up to see a Super Blood Moon at like 1am. It was so incredible to see how big and red the moon was, and it’s really stuck with me and influenced my love of fiction, my writing, and my creativity

21. Tea

22. “ Songs for Those Days ™️ (Alt/ Indie playlist) “

23. I’ve gotten flowers from friends, for plays and musicals, and for when I graduated

24. Best Friend is a kind of silly concept, but if there’s one thing I took from my ex it’s that anyone who deserves it or who loves me (platonically or otherwise) can be my best friend.

25. My soul is probably a dark turquoise. I do a lot of witchy shit and aura reading but reading my own is harder

26. Somewhere queer friendly, with good health care, and a north facing front door. Otherwise, I’m not picky

27. It’s hard to get motivated to but I love gardening. It’s actually one of my goals for new years to make a windowsill herb garden

28. I’m proud of making a life where I get and deserve to be happy and loved

29. I think I’m kind in the New Yorker sense. I don’t show it with words a lot, and have been told I come off as kind of intimidating but I’d give you my kidney if you needed it

30. Hobbies include Dnd, cosplay, descending into the void, cooking, and generally anything that helps me feel either a little bit lighter, a little bit happier, or a little less alone

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?