#finishing a book and doing a bunch of writing in only a few days is good consistency in all areas for me for once

[gr8ntaire]

It took me just under a month but I finally finished a book. As always it can still be done thank fuck for that

[1d1195]

Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

*

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

*

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

*

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

*

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

*

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

*

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

*

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

*

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

*

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

*

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

*

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

*

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

*

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

*

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

*

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

*

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

*

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

*

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

*

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

--

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[lcvejjoong]

never liked you

pairing : playboy! wooyoung x nerd! fem! reader

synopsis : You thought he was different. But when the truth unraveled, so did everything you believed about love.

genre : fluff, angst

warnings : none

author’s note : ngl i crashed out somewhere near the end but it was fun to write ig 🥹

word count : 4.5k

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Does love ever last?

You didn’t know.

You never really tried to find out. Having many exams to ace and projects to finish, it didn’t really help in your love life.

Come on, just give him a try. You never know, maybe he’s the one!

You were willing at first, thinking that nothing will go wrong. But when your classmate ran into class bawling her eyes out after her boyfriend dumped her, you hesitated.

After a few days of thinking, you told the boy that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment yet. That resulted in an awkward moment for him, considering the fact that he had a bunch of flowers in his hand.

You felt bad. Really bad. You liked him, yes, but you were afraid that whatever happened to your classmate will happen to you.

You never really thought about it after. Several boys put letters and gifts in your locker on Valentines, but they all went unanswered, courtesy of you cooped up in your dorm, furiously reading through your notes and pulling all-nighters for exams.

Your friends had begged you to try again, saying that your life will be ‘boring’ and ‘lonely’. You brushed them off, saying that studying is your life. “Plus, I have you guys,” you added, nudging them while laughing.

But then again, life has other plans for you.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Love.

The teacher’s sharp voice brought you back from your daydreaming.

You looked up to see her standing by the door with a student, saying something about being late. Although you were seated at the far back of the room, you could make out the tall figure and the long black hair of the boy.

His eyes met yours, and he gave you a smirk with a playful wink.

You turned away, rolling your eyes.

Jung Wooyoung. The school’s playboy, known for breaking girl’s hearts.

For fun.

And though you have zero interest in him, you found your cheeks feeling a little hot. Luckily, the teacher didn’t notice, ushering Wooyoung back to his seat before beginning the lesson.

Once again, you were drifting off, staring outside the window thinking about what to eat during your break.

Suddenly, you heard : “Jung Wooyoung and Kang Y/N.”

You whipped your head to board, finding a big ‘Research Project’ written on it. “This project will be 50% of your final grade, so please take it seriously. If you have any questions, feel free to email me.” The teacher continued, stacking up her books and preparing to leave the classroom.

You hurriedly packed your bag, ignoring the calls of your classmates. Your head was a mess. There was no way this was happening.

“Y/N!” Wooyoung’s voice cut through the hallway, causing you to walk faster.

He jogged up in front of you, waving several pieces of paper in your face.

“You forgot to take the project paper. Luckily, I got you,” he winked.

You scoffed, snatching the paper and continuing your walk to your dorm to reflect on what you did to deserve this.

His fingers closed around your wrist, bringing you to a sudden stop and forcing you to face him.

You tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened.

“Let go of my hand,” you said, your voice low and threatening.

He held your gaze and said, “Look, I don’t care what you think about me — I need this grade.”

You pulled back slightly, startled. “I thought you didn’t care about grades.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t risk being kicked out of school, so I’ll have to make do.” He smiled a little, releasing your hand. “So, your place? Mine’s a little messy.”

You let out a breath. “Alright. 1 p.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

He did a little salute and said, “Can’t wait!” before running off.

“Don’t forget to bring your books!” you yelled, earning a faint “Yes, madam” in return.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

You didn’t know if you were anxious or excited.

Staring at the cookies baking in the oven, you were leaning on the small table top in your kitchenette. Brushing your fingers against your wrist, you remember the gentle but firm grip of his hand.

There was just something about him that made you constantly think about…

The sharp doorbell interrupted your train of thought. Hurriedly, you opened the door to find Wooyoung standing outside, books on one hand and a plastic bag on the other.

“Hey,” he smiled, lifting the bag he was holding, “I brought us some drinks.”

“Come in.” you replied, offering him a small smile, stepping aside to make way for him.

He took in a breath and asked, “Are you baking cookies?” You nodded, “Yea, I was bored so I figured I’d bake while waiting for you.”

“Well it must be a sign because I love cookies,” he grinned, helping himself on the couch. He took the plastic bag and pulled out 2 drinks, handing one over.

You took it tentatively, looking at it with an unsure expression.

Noticing your hesitance, he chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it.” You looked at him with utter disbelief. “It’s not that. This is actually my favourite drink. Only my closest friends know that.”

“Then I must be destined to be your friend.” He joked. You rolled your eyes, muttering a ‘whatever’.

But what you didn’t realise was that you were smiling.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

After a few hours of reading, writing, joking around and munching on cookies, you were finally done with a section of the project. You let out a huge yawn, stretching your arms while briefly closing your eyes.

When you opened them, you found Wooyoung staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You panicked, hurriedly wiping at whatever unknown particle on your skin.

He didn’t say anything, only standing up from where he sat. You quickly stood up, thinking he was going to leave already.

But instead of going towards the door, he made his way towards you.

He took a step closer, then stopped, just inches from you, his body trembling slightly.

His hand hovered, uncertain, near your cheek. His fingers twitched, just a fraction of a movement, as if they wanted to reach out.

Your breath hitched, waiting. He leaned in, lips hovering right above yours. You could feel the heat in the air, making your heart race, the beat quick and erratic, like it was trying to escape from your chest. You could feel his breath hitting your nose, shallow and fast.

You wanted to pull away. But a part of you made you stay where you were. Your mouth went dry as you watched him licked his lips, and unknowingly, you leaned in closer.

“Are you sure…?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if asking for your permission.

You didn’t answer, your mind not responding. Slowly, almost painfully so, he closed the gap. His hand moved to your jaw, finally touching your skin, the warmth of his face grounding you in the moment.

Then, with a hesitation that stretched out like an eternity, he kissed you.

And without thinking, you kissed him back.

The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t forceful. It was gentle, tentative, as though he were testing the waters, feeling you out. It was the kiss of someone who had wanted this for a long time but was too afraid to make the first move.

When you pulled away, both of you breathless, his hand lingered against your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. You didn’t say anything, heart pounding in your chest, still racing from the kiss, but your mind was slow to catch up.

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he just stared at you, his lips still slightly parted, eyes wide, like he was processing it too. And that uncertainty… it made you feel even more exposed. Was he playing you? Or was he waiting for you to say something? Your mouth felt dry again.

“I…” he started, the expectancy growing in your heart. But his words trailed off, and the panic rushed back into you.

“I’m sorry, did…did I scare you?” he asked. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His hand dropped from your cheek. He straightened, shuffling back.

“Uhm…I should probably get going. It’s pretty late.” You didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you just nodded. Picking up his bag and making his way to the door, he gave you a soft smile and said “Thanks for today, y/n,” before stepping out of your dorm.

That night, you lay in bed, tangled in blankets, staring up at the ceiling as if you could find the answers to your questions hidden in the cracks of the paint, before falling into a dreamless sleep.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

“Y/n!”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Your head jerked toward the front of the room.

Your teacher was staring right at you, arms crossed. The rest of the class turned in unison, a wave of curious glances and stifled snickers.

“You want to join us back on Earth?” she said, voice laced with just enough sarcasm to make your cheeks flush.

You looked down, embarrassed, from all the stares of the classroom, especially from Wooyoung, who was sitting a few tables away.

You purposely came earlier to avoid seeing him at his usual spot against the lockers, and ignored the texts he sent.

You couldn’t stop replaying it. Every detail was etched in your memory: the way his hand had brushed your cheek, the way his breath had felt against your skin, the quiet after the kiss when neither of you spoke. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you tried to ignore the warmth spreading over your cheeks.

Stop thinking about it, you told yourself. There was no reason to. No reason to replay that moment over and over again, imagining how it would feel, how it might change everything. You clenched your fist around your sleeve. Wooyoung was a playboy. It didn’t mean anything to him. It didn’t mean anything to you.

But part of you wanted to believe that it did. You weren’t sure what it meant, or why it made you feel so… unsteady.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, attempting to calm yourself down. Glancing at the clock, you were relieved to find the class ending in a minute. Great, I won’t see him for another two days after this. You hurriedly shoved your books in your bag, waiting for the signal to leave from your teacher. Once you heard ‘that’s all for today’, you bolted out of the classroom.

You turned the corner of the hallway, turning back to check if anyone had followed you. You let out a small breath of relief, straightening your clothes before walking away calmly.

“Y/n.”

You turned on your heel, attempting to run. You didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see what was written all over his face—regret? Confusion? Or worse… nothing at all.

But you didn’t get far.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, firm but gentle, halting you in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned halfway, refusing to meet his eyes.

You didn’t answer, still not meeting his gaze. “Why are you avoiding me?” You didn’t answer, still not meeting his gaze. “Is it because of yesterday?”

You kept your gaze down. Your free hand clenched.

“It was a mistake,” you said. He let out a short breath, almost like a laugh but not quite. “Then why are you running?”

You flinched at that. Not enough for anyone to notice, but he did.

He was still holding your wrist, but not pulling you back. Just waiting.

“I’m not running,” you said, still not facing him.

“Right.” A pause. “Then look at me.”

You didn’t. Couldn’t.

You shook your head. “I’ve got class.”

“Say that, then,” he said, quiet but certain. “But don’t stand there and pretend that kiss meant nothing. Not when you’re shaking like that.”

You hated that he could feel it—how your wrist trembled ever so slightly in his hand.

Slowly, you turned to face him. Your expression was guarded, eyes hard. The kind of look you give someone when you're trying not to fall apart in front of them.

“Did it even mean anything to you?” you asked.

His jaw tensed slightly, like he hadn’t expected the question. Like he’d been preparing for a fight—not honesty. But he didn’t answer.

Your heart sank. You had expected it, but it still hurt more than you thought it would. You shook your head, “Like I thought, it didn’t. Another fling for the playboy.” You attempted to yank your hand from his grip, but it only got tighter.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t say it like that.” You shook your head, “But it’s true, isn’t it. I’m just a fling to you, another random girl for you to kiss.”

“But you're not.” He said. “I…I wanted it to mean something. I just thought that you didn’t want it to be anything.”

You froze. Did you hear him correctly?

He looked down. “I like you. I really do. But if you don’t want to, I understand.” He dropped your hand and sighed. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He was about to walk away but you stopped him.

“Do you mean it? Do you actually like me?” You questioned. He paused, turning around. “I do. I asked the teacher for tuition and used it as an excuse to be paired with you.”

Then, unexpectedly, you smiled.

Not big. Not dramatic. Just this small, sideways grin tugging at the corner of your mouth, the kind that betrayed everything you’d been trying to hide.

“I like you too,” you said, turning to face him fully now. “I was confused at first. But I think…” you paused, looking up at him, “I think I acted by my feelings.”

“You really thought I kissed you just to run away forever?” you asked, not even bothering to hide the laugh in your voice.

His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, maybe even smile back. You looked at him, and something in his face shifted. The hesitation was gone, replaced by this slow, surprised softness.

“I didn’t know you could talk like that.” You laughed, and he grinned. “Does that make you my girlfriend now?” Your eyes lit up, and you gave him a small nod. He opened his arms and you naturally sank into them, wrapping your arms around him as he embraced you. “I won’t be going anywhere,” he whispered.

And for once, you believed him.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

It’s been a few months now.

And somehow, it still catches you off guard sometimes—like when he grabs your hand without thinking, or says something under his breath in class that makes you laugh when you were supposed to be paying attention. Or when he looks at you like you were the only person in the room, even when the hallway was packed.

You never made a big deal out of it. No announcements, no labels screamed into the void. Just you and him. Quiet moments. Shared playlists. Fingers brushing across notebooks. Late-night calls where you don’t even say much, just listen to each other breathe.

And it’s easy. Easier than you expected. No games. No second-guessing. Just someone who makes you feel like you can show up exactly as you are—and he’ll still look at you like you matter.

Your friends had been skeptical at first, given his reputation in school. But after seeing how happy you were with him, they didn’t say anything.

After all, they were the ones who had asked you to get a boyfriend.

Maybe you can finally answer your own question. Maybe love does last forever.

But then again, life isn’t always that easy.

It was a typical Friday evening, and you were seated on Wooyoung’s couch, fidgeting with his hoodie on your lap.

You two will usually meet at his place to watch a movie every week, but today he texted you, saying that he would be late due to a hold up in class, telling you to make yourself comfortable and pick a movie while waiting for him.

Putting the controller down on the table, you got up to prepare some snacks to eat during the movie. Bringing the bowl to the small table in front of the couch, you were about to take a bite of the chocolate when your phone buzzed. Thinking it was Wooyoung, you quickly picked up your phone to reply to him, only to see an unknown number pop up on your screen.

At first you thought it was a scam. But when you unlocked your phone to block it, you found a short video followed by a “I’m sorry.” after. Curiosity got the better of you and you tapped into the chat.

The video was taken at an awkward angle, suggesting that the person was recording in secret. You turned your head to getting a better view of the people in it.

There were three boys gathered around a hooded guy leaning against the lockers and they were talking about something. The recorder moved closer, opening a locker to make him or her less suspicious. The guy leaning on the locker turned his head, revealing the unmistakable dark hair of Wooyoung. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, eyes darting towards the bowl of chocolates waiting on the table.

You snapped your focus back to the video when the guy with a perfect slim nose asked, “So, you gonna target any girls this term?” Wooyoung shrugged, “I don’t know man. There’s no more fun girls anymore.” “That’s because you got them all already.” The guy with long silver hair and feminine features joked, nudging Wooyoung with his shoulder. “Now you’re just flattering me.” Wooyoung laughed.

The guy that looked like a giant puppy then said, “Isn’t there a girl in your class called Y/n?” “You mean Kang Y/n?” Wooyoung mused, “She’s a nerd in my literature class.” The silver-haired guy commented, “The girl sitting at the back of your class? She’s cute. You should try her.”

The guy with the slim nose shook his head. “She’s known for being obsessed with her studies. Her friends say she’s impossible to get to.” He sighed, “Poor Jongho wasted his money on the bouquet of flowers and got rejected. He really liked her.”

The giant puppy guy turned to Wooyoung and said, “If you can make her fall for you in a week's time, I’ll buy you new strings and a strap for your guitar.” Wooyoung straightened from his position, “Add in a new stand and I’ll do it.” The puppy guy smirked, “Done.” They shook hands and the screen turned black.

It then switched to another scene. Wooyoung and his friends appeared to be at a bench in the schoolyard, and you recalled the outfit he was wearing after sending you to class.

“So, how did you do it?” The silver-haired dude asked. Wooyoung took a sip of his soda, “The literature teacher loves to pair us according to the alphabetical order. Persuading her to meet at her house was a piece of cake. I didn’t really do anything much. ” The puppy guy chuckled, “Now you’re just flexing.”

“While you wait for your prize to come, you should be worried about how to get rid of the girl,” the slim nosed guy smirked.

Wooyoung laughed. “Real. I never liked her anyways. She was so easy to fool.” he says, taking another sip from his can before the screen pauses, marking the end of the video.

You sat still, knees pulled to your chest, phone resting loosely in your hand. The video played again—you didn’t mean to hit replay, but maybe a part of you needed to hear it twice. Needed to be sure.

His voice, once warm and familiar, felt foreign now. Sharp in ways it had never been with you.

Every word peeled something away. A layer of trust. A piece of the girl who thought she knew him. Your chest felt hollow, like someone had carved out everything good and left only silence.

You didn’t know what to think. Right now, you just felt small. Embarrassed. Like you’ve been the only one playing a role in a story you thought was real.

The signs were so obvious. The way he suddenly showed a random interest in you. You knew the teacher for 2 years. You knew that she loved to pair students by the alphabet. Not only that, but the obvious fact that he was a playboy. Your friends had warned you many times, but you had ignored them, saying that he had changed for you.

You didn’t cry right away. It wasn’t sadness at first—it was numbness. A quiet dissociation from the version of yourself that had believed in him so completely.

And somewhere underneath all that numbness, a quiet seed of anger started to grow. Not for him, not yet. But at yourself—for not seeing it sooner.

You loved him loudly, unafraid, thinking that he really changed. But in the end, it only resulted in his betrayal and your heartbreak.

Keys jingled, and the door creaked open.

“Baby! I’m back!” The sound of his voice cracked something in you. It sounded so sincere. Unlike what the video suggested.

Wooyoung appeared in front of you, giving you a soft smile and pecking your cheek. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, sitting down beside you, “the teacher couldn’t stop talking.” He picked up a piece of chocolate, taking a bite. “Where did you buy this? It tastes so good.”

When you didn't reply, he stopped. Putting the chocolate down, he reached for your hand, resting it on yours. “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” he asked, face scrunched up with worry.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you pulled out your phone, found the video again, and placed it face up between you.

His smile faltered, face going pale. His hand twitched on the table. “Where.. did you get this?”

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, struggling to get the words out. “That was a long time ago. It isn’t like that anymore, y/n. I do love y- ”.

You looked at him, shifting back a little. “Do you really?” You gestured to your phone, “Because it shows that you're just playing me. Like the playboy people warned me about.”

“Y/n, please listen. It was just a stupid bet- ”

“Is that all I am to you? A stupid bet?” You questioned, tears slowly forming at the bed of your eyes.

“I should have known,” you said. Your voice broke a little on the last word, but you swallowed it down. “you would never change. You’re a liar, a player. You are a coward.”

He reached across the table, but you pulled your hands back, folding them tightly in your lap.

“I trusted you,” you whispered. “I loved you.”

“I know,” his voice shaking, “I know. It wasn’t true at first. But over time, you made me feel nothing like I’ve never felt before. I fell for you instead.” You turned away, unable to stop the tears flowing down your face.

He kneeled down before you. “Please Y/n…give me another chance. I’ll treat you better.”

He said your name like it was a prayer, like it could undo what he’d done. But prayers are for the desperate, and you weren't desperate anymore.

You stood up, wiped your tears, and gathered your things. Your movements were careful, deliberate. You didn’t rush, didn’t stumble — you refused to show that you were devastated.

You didn’t look back as you ran out the door, the cold night air hitting your face like a slap. You wrapped your arms around yourself and kept running, each step feeling impossibly heavy.

You could hear Wooyoung running after you, calling your name over and over again. But you didn’t falter, not until you reached the familiar door in front of you, pushing it open and steeping inside.

You collapsed onto the cold floor, your knees giving out as the weight of it all finally caught up to you. The silence around you felt heavy, like even the walls were holding their breath. Tears streamed down your face, hot and fast, leaving damp trails on your cheeks as you pressed your hands into the ground, trying to steady yourself against the shaking in your chest.

Your sobs were broken and uneven, small gasps of pain you couldn’t hold back anymore. It wasn’t just sadness—it was frustration, fear, loneliness all tangled together. And in that moment, sitting there with nothing but the sound of your own heartbreak, you let yourself fall apart, because you couldn’t pretend to be strong any longer.

In your head, you replayed everything—every small look, every inside joke, every moment that once made you believe you two were unbreakable. You thought about your first date, awkward and sweet, and about all the times he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

You pressed your face into your hands, breathing in slow, shaky gulps of air, calming yourself down. You laid on the floor, curled up until sleep overtook you.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

After that night, you decided to take a break from your studies.

You spend most of your time in bed, sometimes shedding tears, rethinking your days with him. Otherwise you were just staring into your ceiling, mind empty.

You had received several texts from Wooyoung, asking about your wellbeing or saying that he was sorry, wanting to meet up and talk it out. But you ignored him, putting your phone on do not disturb.

2 weeks went by, and you decided that you were not going to fall behind on your studies just because of some stupid break up.

When you walked into class, you were greeted by some of your friends, answering questions and assuring them that you were fine.

As you were talking out your books for class, the door opened, and you heard your teacher nagging. You looked up, and your breath instantly stopped. Standing at the classroom door, Wooyoung looked up at you, eyes wide. He had cut his hair short and dyed it blonde, enhancing his facial features.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze, and started to chat with your friend. At the corner of your eye, you could see him bowing to the teacher, walking towards his seat. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before sitting down.

You could constantly feel his eyes on you during the lesson, but you ignored him, acting like you have never talked to him before.

When the class ended, you didn’t bother to rush out of class. Packing your bag slowly, you could feel Wooyoung deciding to approach you. But after a few seconds, he turned away, following his friends out of the classroom. You breathed a sigh of relief, slinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way out.

You entered the schoolyard, a drink in your hand, and sat down on a bench.

And you realised you finally had an answer to your question.

Does love ever last?

No, it doesn’t.

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© lcvejjoong, 2025

[afro-hispwriter]

My Dornish Love

Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader

Warnings- arranged marriages, heavy implications of masturbation

Wc- 2.3k

I don’t intend for this to be the only part, but we’ll see.

part 2

-

A marriage proposal between Martells and Targaryens isn’t unheard of. But the Martells always refuse in the end. They were far too stubborn and prideful the council members would think. 

There was a war coming, and everyone knew. The greens need all the support they can get. And having Dorne on their side can turn things around heavily. Dorne may not have large numbers of fighters, but their skills make up for it. 

When Qoren Martell received a letter from Queen Alicent in hopes that he would accept a marriage between his eldest daughter and her second son. Everyone expected the prince to decline, but he surprised everyone by agreeing. It was a tour for her to get to know the Prince but it was clear the decision had already been made regardless.

When you, the princess, found out. You were furious.

“I don’t understand, we have never accepted anything that would mean having Dorne become part of the kingdoms.” You paced in front of your father.

“And it is time to change that.” He says and you huff. 

“You know why they’re doing this, the Targaryens are on the brink of yet another war and they are making sure to bring everyone into it.” 

“We don’t know that.” 

“Yes we do, and you’re putting me in it.” When he didn’t respond you turned away to start walking away.

“Its simply a tour to see if you are compatible, Y/n. You and your brothers will be sailing for Kings Landing in two days, be ready.” 

-

Those two days came by quickly. Your handmaidens had some of your things packed for those three weeks and the ship loaders were finishing up. 

“What if I don’t like him?” You ask your father as both of you wait on the docks.

“Then you don’t marry him.”

“Im sure the decision is already made. This tour is just a formality.” You cross your arms. “You won’t even be there.”

“Your brothers will be there in my place.”

“What if he is cruel? Targaryen men are said to be cruel.” 

“Then I'm sure his death will be deemed a mere accident.” His voice almost had an amusing tone. A shipmaster called out that everything was ready. Qoren grabbed you by your arms and turned you to face him. “Write to me.”

“I will.” Your lip quivered and he kissed your forehead before grabbing your hand to guide you to a boat. Your brothers, Ryon and Deziel jumped in after you.

“Don’t miss us too much,” Deziel says waving at the man and Ryon rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t destroy Kings Landing,” Qoren says and walks away with his hands behind his back.

-

Aemond knew this conversation would come. This is what he was waiting for. He would do his duty, and he hoped the Dornish woman would agree. 

“I'm sure you hear how unprincipled the women of Dorne are, brother.” Aegon laughed next to Aemond. “They are wild in the brothels now imagine the princess herself.” Aemond continued to ignore him and paid attention to his book. “But I'm sure you know enough thanks to me.” Aemond tightened his hand on the book. “But I never see you have fun so you might have to rely on your betrothed.” 

Aemond slammed the book shut and stood up. 

“They will be here soon.” He says and starts walking out of the library. 

“The ship was only recently spotted and even then they are still a few days out. Don’t get your cock in a bunch.” Aegon mumbled the last bit into his cup. “Or maybe you can’t wait to stick-.” He was cut off by the library door slamming shut. 

-

Once the ship flying the flag of House Martell was seen on the Blackwater. The people of King's Landing were eager to see the Princes’ and the Princess themselves as most of them had only seen Dornish merchants.

The royal family went by carriage. Alicent gave her children one of her talks about being on their best behavior. It was mostly pointed at Aegon who sat there bored, Helaena sat fiddling with a bracelet, while Aemond looked out the windows. The carriage stopped just a few feet from the docks and a queen's guard member opened the door. Alicent stepped out first, followed by Helaena, then Aemond, and finally Aegon. 

A few ships had already docked. Mostly merchants were eager to set up their shops or make deliveries. The ship said to be carrying the princess and the princes docked and a plank was lowered. A herald of Dorne stepped out first and looked at the family. 

“Prince Ryon, Prince Deziel, and Princess Y/n Martell of Dorne!” People cheered loudly and clapped as they watched the three of you step off the boat. 

You grab Deziel’s hand and he helps you step off. The guards stepped off after and cleared a path. Ryon and Deziel kept their hands on the hilds of their swords as they began walking.

“I see the Queen and her children,” Ryon says and juts his chin over the hill. You looked over and saw the red-headed woman and the three silver-headed princes and princess. 

You looped yours and Deziel’s arms together and Ryon led you up the steps. You instantly saw the man who is your betrothed. He stood tall by his family, hands behind his back and a stoic look on his face. 

“The terrible, Prince Aemond,” Deziel whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes.

“Stop, I'm sure they are just rumors.” 

“Sure.” 

Ryon opened his arms with a smile.

“Your grace, how well it is to see you.” He says and grabs Alicents hands with care and brings them up to his plump lips. 

“Prince Ryon, the last time I saw you, you were a child.” She says with a slight blush. 

“Yes, well as you see. I have grown quite a bit.” If you knew your brother, you were sure he gave the queen a wink and his charming smile that makes so many women and men fall at his feet. Alicents face went redder and Ryon squeezed her hands before releasing them. “As much as I enjoy your presence, your grace, I was hoping to see the Hand. Speak to him about my sister and your second son.” Ryon flashed a look at Aemond.

“My father has other matters but I assure you, the Princess will be taken care of.” Ryon looked around before nodding.

“My brother will ride with all of you to the Keep as well. I still have other matters to deal with for my father.” 

“Of course.” The Queen says then looks at Aemond. “Aemond.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile and he knew what that meant. He stepped forward, his long legs had him in front of you. 

“Princess, I'm glad you are here.” His voice was cold but his face was neutral. He grabbed your hand and kissed it softly. You squint your eyes at him before smiling brightly.

“Prince Aemond, it is lovely to meet you.” 

“Hmm.” He dropped your hand and held his own back behind him. He stared at you, mostly taking you in while trying not to linger on your cleavage. Did you have a belly piercing? 

“Oh darling you should cover up a bit, someone brings the princess something to cover up.” Alicent urged and you instantly frowned.

“No it's alright your grace, I wear clothes like this all the time.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile before nodding.

“Well we best get back, you must be exhausted.” Alicent walked back to the carriage and Aemond stayed by you.

“Apologies about her, she is very modest.” He says and you shrug.

“Well, she is going to have to get used to it.” You say to him softly so nobody can hear. You received no response making you roll your eyes. 

“Let's get you home Princess.” You frowned.

Home?

-

When you sat next to Aemond in the carriage, your perfume hit his nostrils. You smelled heavenly, like fruit with a twinge of the salty sea. Nobody spoke on the road back to the Keep. 

But you and Deziel admired the outside. You had never been to Kings Landing so it was all new territory for you. It made you nervous. 

The horses stopped in front of the Keep and the door popped open. The Queen and Helaena left first, then Aegon, followed by Deziel, and finally you and Aemond. The castle was huge, you and Deziel started at it in awe. 

“It's quite ugly.” He says quietly you gasp and slapped his arm. 

“Deziel! Don’t say things like that.” Everyone looked at you in confusion so you just smiled reassuringly.  

“Our handmaiden, Thea.” Alicent beckoned over one of the servants. She was a pretty girl, with brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes. “I have assigned her to your service, she will lead you to your temporary chambers until a decision is made. Your brother as well will be shown his way.”

“Thank you, your grace.” She squeezes your bicep before leaving to go inside.

“Princess, would you like me to show you your room? I'm sure you are tired.” Thea asks and you nod.

“Lead the way.” She gives you a big smile before turning around. You start to follow her and you see Deziel had already been led away. You locked eyes with Aemond who stood by the horses now, watching you. “I will see you later, Prince Aemond.” 

-

“Your things will be brought up shortly princess, would you like me to draw you a bath in the meantime?” Thea asks and points to the small tub in your new room. 

“Yes and if you have any salts that would be greatly appreciated.” They did a small bow before leaving. You were finally alone, even if it were for a couple of minutes. Your new room was only a bit bigger than the one back in Dorne but extremely boring. 

You took the liberty of stepping onto the balcony to see where you would be living. The view was beautiful. Birds flew and you could see how tiny the small folk looked. 

It all still looked so sad, maybe it was the time of day but it made you miss Dorne all the same. They came in with some help to fill up the tub with warm water. She then dumped some soothing salts into the water.  

“Would you like help in undressing princess?” She asks and you shake your head. 

“No, that's quite alright, I will send for you once I'm ready.” She bowed and left. You hovered your hand over the water, letting the steam hit it. You slipped the material of your dress down your shoulder and it pooled at your feet. You kicked your flats off so they clattered on the floor. You grabbed the edges of the tub and slowly settled into the water. 

The warm water was welcoming after being at sea for over a week. You could have slept in it if it weren’t for a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” You yelled out and the door creaked open and you heard footsteps.

“Princess?” It was none other than your betrothed.

“Over here, Aemond.” You say and turn your head to face the panels that cover the tub from sight. 

“I wondered-.” Aemond rounded the corner and the second he locked eyes on your state, his long legs had him behind the panels again. 

“My apologies, I will leave you to your business.” He said and there was a slight shake to his voice.

“Cut the shit Aemond.” You say and he freezes. “Come back, I want to talk to you.” He didn’t move but you could see the top of his head. “I want to see the face of a man I might marry when I talk to him.”

“You’re not decent princess.”

“Oh stop being so honorable for 5 minutes please.” He heard the water move around. Aemond sighed before rounding the corner and revealing himself again. His breath hitched when he saw your figure, you sat facing him and the lack of bubbles gave him a clear view of your breasts. “Soak it in my prince, who knows how long it will be before you see me like this again.” 

Aemonds face turned pink at your words and suddenly his boots were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You stand strong but standing in the presence of a naked woman you shrink.” His fists squeezed. “Would you like to feel the touch of a woman?”

“What did you want to talk about my lady?” He says harshly, making you smirk. 

“I want to talk about our potential betrothal. Regardless of our choice, its clear this is dire enough that we need to get married but I will ask you , Aemond.” He looked up, this time his eye solely on your face. “Will you sleep with anyone else?”

“No, I will remain faithful to you during this as long as I receive the same from you. This isn’t Dorne.”

“I am aware, Aemond.” You frown. “I would like to get to know you though, maybe something good can come out of this.” His jaw tightened but it then relaxed.

“Of course, my lady.” 

“Y/n.” You say. “Call me by my name Aemond, we are going to get very close.”

“As you wish.” Aemonds hands went behind his back. 

“As much as I enjoy having you here, I'm sure they are close to bringing my things, so I can either make room in this tub for you or you best be on your way.” You say and grab the bar of soap and washcloth. “Or you can watch and just hide.” There was an amusing look on your face. 

He let out a ‘Hmm’ and gave you a small smile. 

“Another time, Y/n.” Your name rolled off his tongue so fluently. Aemond walked away until he made it to the door and shut it behind him. 

“You will be the death of me Aemond Targaryen.” And your hand dips into the water to find a home in between your legs.

-

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated, they help me keep going!

[imaginesforeons]

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back. 

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

[princesssmars]

another one of my dreams that i have to write out because it flabbergasted me and two of my friends. but this time about hazel from bottoms.

ok, reader is the new girl at school. in my dream i was kind of a loser (accurate) but because i can write what i want (and i've read @ptolemaeacles cheerleader headcanons ten times) im changing it.

so reader is trying out to be cheerleader! it helps you make a few friends, isabel being the best one because she’s amazing, beautiful, and a little weird in a really endearing way. she finds you interesting, given your natural talent for dancing and how despite doing vulgar dance moves on the football field, off of it you can be a shy and sweet person!

because of this isabel, brittany and you are pretty much always together. and since they're popular and seen everywhere, that means you are seen everywhere!

which means hazel cant take a fucking break.

walking to sit with pj and josie during lunch and means almost having a heart attack when she sees you handing out flyers for the next school event, looking so ethereal in your cheer uniform she nearly trips over herself.

or when every morning she sits two rows over from you in math class, not so sneakily staring at you for minutes at a time while doing her worksheets.

despite being close to a genius, she thinks there's no way in hell you have ever noticed her. never seen the way your eyes will drift to her when she's sitting in the bleachers while, you're practicing, how you're heart will race when the teacher is calling names for project partners with the chance that the brunette could be in your group.

so sure you had a crush that was going nowhere, but you had a nice bunch of new friends, so people we're starting to like you!

all except one.

mrs. fucking barnes.

for whatever reason, your second period english teacher had decided on your first day to make your senior year a living fucking hell.

put a good amount of effort into an essay? you get a d minus!

want to share a comment you had about the book the class is reading? shut up silly, jeff is going to popcorn read and stutter over a basic sentence!

but one friday, you decided to skip class and the next week she went ballistic.

now, since moving to town, you had noticed that the people here were a little odd, regularly seeing a normal interaction or conversation go to the extreme in seconds.

so, when you're hovering over the toilet in the girls bathroom, a small thought in your brain that loves to say what if's asks: what if somebody bursted in here right now?

when you finish and stand up to pull your jeans up, only to be interrupted when the stall doors bust open with a loud bang! you think for split second that god can literally hear your thoughts and is making you pay for whatever sins you've committed.

those sins must have been fucking murder to make up for how mortified you felt standing in a cramped girls bathroom stall, your pants down with three people staring at you/

the first, mrs. barnes, wearing a look thats a mix between anger and regret.

the second is nettie brown, a girl you recognized from your art class who you remember complimented your heels and you did the same for her coat.'

and then, standing in front the sinks with eyes that look as big as fucking saucers, hazel callahan herself.

your brain catches up to your body and you manage to splutter out a string of curses and yells, forcing the door back closed as the teachers splutters out an excuse about someone telling her you had started doing weed in the bathrooms.

you hear her and some more shoes shuffling out of the bathroom, taking a minute to gather your bearings before you leave the bathroom. when you open the door again you rest your hands on the counter, your eyes closed as you take a breath. when you look up to your reflection, in your peripheral you see a figure standing awkwardly at the back of the bathroom, blue eyes avoiding looking at you.

"hazel?" you ask under your breath, turning around to look at her dead on. she flinches to attention like a child called to attention.

"uh...i just wanted to make sure that you were alright, what she did was really fucked up."

"oh," you mouth, grateful that after something so embarrassing this girl who you barely knew was waiting in a crappy bathroom to make sure you were alright. if it was possible your crush on her just grows. "thank you. that means a lot to me."

her face lights up so brightly you think it could light up a city.

"no problem! i mean, really who cares that much about weed, anyway? i've never cared about bush anyway-"

the room gets silent.

as she quickly rushes out an apology and leaves, all you can think about is how its weird you've been shocked like this twice in a span of ten minutes, and that you have got to ask hazel callahan on a date.

i made this a lot cuter than it was in my dream. i was in the bathroom, looking at these really nice coats on the counter ?? when the door opened, hazel just said "y'know ive never minded bush" and the sheer confusion made wake up.

i put my senior year english teacher in here because. i still hate that bitch.

[the---hermit]

18|02|2025

Today was quite productive, I finished working on another article, which concludes one of the sections I had created. Tomorrow since I only have a couple of hours in the morning I'll be focusing on the shortest source, and then for the rest of the week I'll be working on an article each day. I am not sure yet I'll be able to start and finish them all within a day, since they are the longest out of the bunch, but I am pretty confident I'll get a lot of work done within this week. I still have to figure out a way to incorporate in my week a bit of work for the class I am attending at the moment, but I think it will probably something I'll find a solution for next week. Not really academic related, but I am finding my new way to use a bullet journal super useful. At the beginning of the month I decided to go back to my roots and use it in a more chaotic and less polished way, and it's working super well. I have it open on my desk at all times, with my daily to do lists, and a lot of space for random notes to write down so I don't have to hold a lot of infos and ideas in my brain. I am really happy about how well it's working after so many months of not really using it.

8/50 days of productivity

read first thing in the morning

downloaded some materials for the class I am currently attending (even though I genuinely have no idea when I'll work on those materials)

finished working on yet another article for my spaces of knowledge class (I am now half way into those, so I should be able to finish working on them by the beginning of next week)

reorganized my study for the next few days (I basically decided to switch the order I'll be working on some of these materials because it just made more sense)

Irish on duolingo

📖: Witchcraft For Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix (more or less what I said yesterday, but this has become so slow I am actually kind of struggling to continue? I have no idea how the story can continue for another 200 pages. I am pretty sure I'll have to switch to another book in order to avoid a reading slump and just juggle the two. It usually works for me. I don't really want to dnf this one because I am interested in finding out what happens to the characters, the pacing and the lenght aren't just working for me)

🎧: Re:Carmilla, The Magnus Protocol s1

[ragnarokhound]

Please please please feed the brain worm you gave me. Jaytim captive prince au is CRAZY and you are so real for reading the books that fast. The chokehold those books had on me oh my god

[first of all, hi! Love your work :D 💕❤️]

Second of all. God. Right?? I alarmed a few of my IRL friends. I read books 1&2 back to back. I stayed up way too late finishing book 2 and had to go to work the next day and all I could think about was getting home to read book 3. Today I read the short story collection. I love them your honor OTL

Laurent reminded me of some of my favorite Tim interpretations every now and then - always having something cutting to say, needing alone time to think and then coming up with not only a new, better plan but setting five other things in motion to support it. Being very reluctantly in love with a man who could very easily kill him who said that

Damen was made in a lab for Me Specifically, and he reminded me of how I like to write Jason too sometimes alskdndks just. Being fed up 24/7 with awful people doing awful things, sassy rejoinders that he simply cannot stop himself from saying. That "too late, sweetheart" early early in the first book was SUCH a Jason moment to me, I could see that bath scene happening SO easily with jaytim skcnfjdkjd

If (IF!!!!) I were gonna write jaytim captive prince style (and not just my gladiator fic lmao), I'd have to change a lot of things around because the setting and politics of it all are so beautifully and importantly about Damen and Laurent lol, and they are not actually 1-1 Jason and Tim.

BUT... Obviously. Tim would be in Laurent's role and Jason would be in Damen's. And obviously Tim's older brother, Dick, would be absent for sad plot reasons. And obviously Jason was betrayed by his mother, Sheila, who sold him to one direction the enemy country of which Tim is the prince. Unclear still what the exact feeling about Jason would be, and if he has anything to do with Dick not being around (or if Dick is even dead at all...!) but what makes captive prince so tasty is that Laurent HATED Damen, and Damen had to hide who he was so he just had to TAKE IT. Which of course means that for whatever reason, Tim hates Jason on sight. And for whatever reason, Jason has to take whatever abuse is thrown his way.

!!!

Oh. Oooooh could be... Okay throw a bunch of stuff out. Could be that Tim is in the court of Ra's al Ghul OwO. Maybe Tim is a foreign prince who's lived there in asylum for some time, and Jason was made a present to Tim because Jason's country was responsible for driving Tim into asylum in the first place OwO.

Still up in the air whether Jason's identity is out in the open or if he's been made a scapegoat just like Damen was. Then you could have a bunch of bouncing off Ra's and Talia and Damian and the friends Tim made in Red Robin among the assassins... And there's the omnipresent danger of Tim being beholden to Ra's court OwO. He's not so much protected as he is a hostage OwO. Just like Damen, Jason was meant to be a taunt for Tim, something to force him into acting out and giving Ra's further leverage.

Basically, this captive prince au would be a surprise Brucequest au, this time with 100% more Jason in skimpy slave boy outfits, having belligerent sexual tension with a skittish, political double-speaking Tim (so. Tim.) (The king is missing. Tim's brother Dick is preparing to be crowned. He doesn't believe Tim's letters that Bruce is alive and that he's going to find him.)

And I'm stopping there. You CANT DO THIS TO ME, werewolf fic is already crying itself to sleep every night while I dally with gladiator fic, okay, I refuse to write this au--

[the WIP tower creaks ominously as it ascends another story]

[wutheringmights]

I finished rereading The Song of the Lioness quartet by Tamora Pierce a couple of days back. I already talked about the first book in a post that garnered more attention than it deserved. I guess we were all happily reminiscing about the menstruation scenes together, or Tortall fans are so starved for content they (we) will reblog anything.(Understandable. I too am starved for a thriving Tortall fandom.)

I'm too lazy to make separate posts about each book, so we're just going to do a mega post covering the second, third, and fourth book.

Unlike last time, I will be giving a little criticism to this series. I still love it endlessly, but there were a few things about the prose I thought was interesting that I want to talk about a bit.

So, without further ado~

In the Hand of the Goddess

I think this one is my favorite one, despite how rushed the plot it. It contains all of my favorite plot points, like awkward romances with George and Jon, attending knight lessons, and a little summer war. Fun stuff.

But it definitely feels rushed. I really wish someone told Pierce to make this a 12 book series, expanding on Alanna's years at the castle. It would have gone so far to better develop the romances and the friendships in these books.

I am fascinated by what Pierce chose to skim over. Characters would die or kiss for the first time off screen, with the prose resuming with Alanna reacting to it. It demonstrates an understanding of character work that I personally adore and try to emulate in my own writing-- the real bones of a story being in how characters respond to fantastic events as opposed to the fantastic events themselves.

Also, the whole veil spell Roger cast in objectively stupid, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. You're telling me that Roger used magic to make Alanna lose interest in doing anything about the obviously evil things he was doing? That's fucking hilarious. You know an editor came back to Pierce and asked her to come up with a reason why Alanna wasn't just going to spring into action at the first sign of Roger trying to kill her, only for Pierce to come up with this. It's so silly. I love it.

Woman Who Rides Like A Man

Did this book age poorly? Yes, but not as badly as I remembered. That's not a stirring defense, and it's really not meant to be.

The Bahzir are a mess of Orientalism, and Pierce definitely deserves criticism for not only the way she wrote them but for the ways in which she frames their cultural practices as something that needs to be fixed. Having Alanna want to force them to change their culture to suit her beliefs is not a great look for both the character and the writer. And that's not even getting into the whole assimilation plotline.

But I did enjoy Pierce's attempts to expand on the definition of womanhood, especially as a part of Alanna learning to embrace femininity. There is this running thread in these last two books of Alanna learning about all the different ways to be a woman and choosing for herself what her gender means to her. It's not done particularly well, and anyone looking for a revolutionary examination of gender roles and identity is going to be sorely disappointed. But there's an attempt here that I can't help but appreciate.

This book is also where Pierce starts to slow the plot down, which lends it to having the most reasonable pacing out of the bunch. That being said, it's also the book where the lack of development for a bunch of the side characters start to hurt. I really wish Gary or Raoul joined Alanna in the desert. Raoul gets his moment in the sun with the Protector of the Small books, but Gary remains largely forgettable. In fact, I spent this entire read-through convinced this man dies at the end of the last book, if only because I can't remember where he appears in any of the other books.

Lioness Rampant

This book somehow has the improved pacing of the third book while still feeling rushed. The quest for the Dominion Jewel really should have been it's own book, if only to give Thayet and Buri more room for development. Thayet in particular really needs her moment to shine, especially when she continues to be an important character in the other series.

But do you know who did get a lot of screen time? Liam.

Remembered shit about this guy before going into this book. I could only vaguely recalled disliking him as a kid, but not as much as I venomously hated Jon. (Speaking of which-- I love the way this man is realistically shitty. Him getting dumped by Alanna is always my favorite scene.) But Liam? Fuck that guy. Holy shit. I give full applause to Pierce for portraying the important milestones every girl goes through growing up, which includes having a situationship that is so shitty that it becomes essential character development.

Roger's return feels very... cheesy? I think Alex should have stepped up to be the final villain on the story. Unlike Roger, Alex was Alanna's friend. They have history. The betrayal would have imbued that final fight with so many more emotions than it ultimately had. I also would have liked Alanna to have at least meaningfully talked to Alex sometime before the climax.

Honestly, it's impressive how reactive Alanna is as a character in the last half of the book. She doesn't seek out how to stop Roger's plan, or fix Thom, or anything. Other characters make plans and she just... waits for something to go wrong.

That being said, by virtue of Alanna's relationships with George, Liam, and Jon all happening sometime in this plot, this book becomes a good place to look to get the full berth of how Pierce handles romances. Which, I love her approach. The romances are never over the top or, for lack of a better word, too romantic. It's very down to earth, with characters dating, marrying, or breaking up for realistic reasons.

Jon and Alanna were friends who broke up because they had different life plans. Liam and Alanna broke up for having fundamentally different values. As much as I bitch about how shitty Jon and Liam are, they're not cartoonishly evil. They're just a little shitty the way most of your exes will be. Jon and Liam are men could find love with someone else. They just aren't suited for Alanna.

Meanwhile, the most romantic things George does are wait for her and be supportive. He doesn't fight or get territorial. He makes his feelings clear, then waits for Alanna's cues. Alanna definitely loves him, but she ends up with him in the end because their lifestyles and core beliefs meld together. There's no grand romantic gesture or whirlwind affairs. They are just a good pair.

I have read stories with far heavier focuses on romance, and none of those couples feel as perfect as Alanna and George. Those stories prioritize all the gooey moments over showing why the main couple should get together. For how little romantic interactions they have, you believe these two could have a successful marriage. Perfect stuff.

---

Over all, I really enjoyed rereading these books. For all my griping, I still love the story. I love Alanna. She's a character who is fundamental to my soul. No matter where I am in life, I will always want to open these books and find her again, to walk back into Tortall and join her on her quest to be a lady knight.

My copies of the series come with forewards from a previous edition. In one of them, Pierce wrote that this series started off as an adult fantasy story that was much darker and edgier. I need to know what that story looks like, what happened in it. Pierce can claim as she wants that she hardly remembers what it looks like, but I refuse to believe that. Release the unedited first draft, Pierce. I am begging you.

[satureja13]

Have I ever told you how much I like these crime games? Some of you might know how much I struggle to keep up with something due to my ADHD (a glorious exception are the Boys ^^') But I was able to finish this book for my games/current case! I haven't been able to craft a bigger project for a while so I'm very proud of myself lol and I thought I show you.

I can reuse this book over and over again for new cases and it's made out of stuff I already had at home: amazon packaging, printouts, envelopes, tea dyed paper, wallpaper, a belt, the lock is from an old suitcase I found, paperclips, stamps, fabric and the metal book corners are made from a tomato paste tube...

These games come with a bunch of documents and I like that I can sort them now and that I'm able to find them quickly instead of having them in a heap. It takes me a few days or even weeks (when I get distracted by someting else ^^') and with this book I can put everything quickly away and return as quick to my research again.

I also made little writing pads and a notebook. The most fun I had with the paperclips. You can make them so quickly and they are so pretty and useful (I use them as tabs and to keep the documents in place)! Just fold a strip of paper in a 'w' shape, glue the metal paperclip inside and decorate. Ready! If you are interested in doing sth like this, don't hesitate to ask, I'm happy to help and share links to to the amazing youtubers I learned from!

I came into crafting only late in my life and I have so much fun. I wish I discovered the joy of it earlier but I never thought it could be something for me. Art class in school was so discouraging and I always thought I don't have the patience/talent for it. Then I went into rehab and we crafted and I kept on crafting ever since ^^' (Maybe you remember when I posted about my tarot book I made a new cover for or my amazing tool case I posted a while ago?)

The box in the pic below is a chocolate packaging I glued some tea dyed paper on :3

I also made a little booklet:

Did you know that you can make tape out of almost everything by using doublesided tape? Here I used old book pages. The dangles are made from cardboard and napkins :3

That was a fun little project and it's also a nice gift. I printed out the AI edits from my Mount Komorebi screenshots to decorate the pages. When you look close you can see Kiyoshi and Kiri in the pic on the left.

[firstdivisiongirl]

Sanji x Fem Reader: The Aurelia Saga

WARNINGS: SPOILERS AHEAD, VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ANGST

Chapter 2: Wake Up

Your eyes fluttered open.  The light was so bright.  You thought you must have died.  You sat up, but all you could feel was pain run through your body.

“Don’t get up too fast, you’re still extremely dehydrated and you need food,” a little voice said from his desk.  You looked over and it was like no one you had seen before.  He was fuzzy and had antlers and a blue nose.  Was he a talking animal, you thought.

“Thank you.  Wait, are you a reindeer?”

“Yes!  Thank you.  Everyone calls me a raccoon dog!  It’s nice to see someone who knows.  Oh, by the way, I’m Tony Tony Chopper.”

You smiled as you introduced yourself.  You started to look around the room.  It was large with bookshelves holding medical books on the left walls.  It wasn’t anything like back home, where there was no room for medics like this in your castle.  The other side of the room had a metal desk with books open and bottles full of medicine and herbs.  “Are you okay,” Chopper asked when he noticed you were zoning out.

You nodded, “I…” You didn’t finish your sentence when Sanji walked in.  “Hey Chopper,” he said carrying in a tray of food for you, “did she wake up yet?”

“Hi,” you said shyly, waving at him.  And then Sanji froze.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  Do I just say hi, he thought.  Do I wave back?  Do I introduce myself?  His brain was hurting just thinking about it.  Thankfully, Chopper was able to save the day.

“This is Sanji.  He’s our cook.  Sanji, this is the Princess of Aurelia.”  Sanji took a deep breath, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Princess.  I brought you some food.  Let me know if you have any allergies.  Eat up, if you need anything, I’m a call away.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” you said smiling, “I’ll remember this.  Both of you.”

Those words hit Sanji like a brick.  He knew you.  You were his first love.  The girl he loved from childhood.  He never forgot about you, but he figured you were a distant memory.  Someone he’d have to move on from, but you were here.  And he knew that there was something wrong.  He could see it in your eyes.  They weren’t the same eyes.  They held this pain and sadness in them that he couldn’t explain.  He needed to know what, but as a gentleman, he was not going to question you.  You had just woken up, but he knew a few people who would want to know immediately.

After your first meeting, Sanji told everyone that you had woken up and went to get everyone.  You walked out onto the deck to meet everyone.  You shared your name with each of them and they did the same.  “How did you end up in a fishing boat in the middle of the sea,” Nami asked as crossed her arms and sat next to you on one of the lounge chairs.

You looked at the ground, crying.  “My father was murdered by the man I loved,” you started, “he was going to kill me, but I ran.  My father told me to live and I couldn’t do that if I stayed.  But I need to save my kingdom.  As the only one left, I need to save it.”

“Then let’s go,” Luffy said smiling, “we’ll help you out.  Don’t worry.”

“Yeah Princess,” Chopper reiterated,  “We’ll help you out.  We saved a bunch of places before.  Don’t cry.”

You started smiling, “thank you all so much.  But I barely know you.  Why are you helping me?”

Robin smiled and said, “because you’re in trouble and alone.  We’ve all been there, and no one should feel that way.  Your people deserve freedom and happiness and so do you.  I’ll give you a tour of the ship.”

You nodded and started crying again, which led to Franky crying.  “Thank you,” you said as Robin led you to see the Thousand Sunny.  Sanji smiled, seeing how the crew had taken a liking to you.  He hoped that your kingdom was okay for now and those you cared about were okay too.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

Taglist: @grudgens @rockwithwa

[dee-the-red-witch]

how did you get past “just being gnc”? asking for me, i’ve been in that mindset on and off for years. if you don’t mind sharing

I... okay, look, that's like a question with two other subtextual ones rolled up into it in a donut all at once. And I have an all-day road trip tomorrow, so I don't have a ton of spoons to spare, but I'm still gonna try and tackle all three. And I'm gonna hit the subtext questions first, because they're important and play into it. 1. What's a good way to come out as trans?

There fucking isn't one. For anyone of any gender. There is no perfect way for anyone to come out. It will always be awkward, there's always going to be some kind of price to pay, and you are never going to know that full price up front. It's also just about always less than the price of NOT coming out, though. 2. What's a good way for *ME* to come out as trans?

Okay, this one ties into my own story some, but the shorter version? I don't know. I can't tell you. Because I don't know your details and what's going to work for you or how. What I can tell you is that nobody is going to magically guess it for you, no one's going to give you permission to do it, and you're gonna have to start it yourself. There's folks that will absolutely help later down the line, but you have to initiate and start things, even if it's babysteps. Case in point... 3. ENOUGH SUBTEXT, DENICE, how'd YOU get past just being a guy?

It's complicated. I'd been in denial since the late 90's. so there was a LOT of personal bullshit, and art, and other work, and everything, packed up in and around my gender like mad. Like a wad of gum with a bunch of other stuff stuck to it- and sometimes when a piece finally got pulled free, part of the gum came up with it. Bad analogy, probably. Still. When I finished writing, and laying out, and publishing my first book (and practically screaming HI! IT ME! AM TRANS! in the afterword and other bits, because that's what happens when I write a historical horror novel with a GNC-transmasc-ish protag) I felt empty. Hollow. For months. I was trying and struggling to get a second book off the ground, and having this weight start settling over my head. Only it was like three months early for my usual denial ideation episode. Meanwhile, on facebook, my friend J who was dealing with the tail end aftershocks of a nasty divorce from an even nastier asshole. And of course she was going off about a very rational distrust and dislike of Men and some of their behaviors in particular, and I just had that goddamn black wave of ideation set in on me in full and was mentally internally screaming "But I'm not a fucking man!" and I did the one thing I'd never done in twenty plus years of dysphoria, denial and ideation. I said it out loud. Nobody in the apartment to even hear me. But I said it. And repeated it. And so help me, that depression/denial/ideation wave that I knew was going to end with me hurting myself or worse started immediately fading. I started switching my pronouns over to they/them on my social medias almost immediately. Like I said. Baby steps. But it was enough- one of my partners noticed the update and flat out asked me about it the next time she was over, and that's how I ended up coming out as nonbinary to both her and the rest of my immediate family. And a few days later online all over as well. Realizing I was a girl took a bit, because enby felt right, but not all the way right. I'd started t-blockers already because I knew I had dysphoria issues (just no idea how serious they were) and then started E. All of which was made easier by being in an informed-consent state and having a doctor who had zero issues with prescribing them, and more than a little bit of a mad scientist nature. Three days into Estrogen I just had this one weird moment of driving and hitting a sunny patch of road and suddenly I was happy and laughing in a way I'd NEVER been. That's when it started really clicking for me. When I realized that what had been holding me back was a lot of internalized shame and conditioning that I needed to unpack and get rid of. That's all where I started. (and yes, it meant a whole extra round of comings out and updates and everything, but well, here I am.) I hope that wall of text helps some? But yeah. Take baby steps. Things move from there as you figure it out. But you can't figure it out while you're holding yourself back.

[differentdragonpeanutknight]

My Experience with... Ninjago!

Part 1 - From 'Funny Ninjas Go brrrr' to 'Bawling my Eyes Out'

Hey guys! So, remember when I asked you if I should talk about the things I like in here? A lot of people liked it, so.... I'll try doing that and we see how it goes, alright?

So I'll talk a lot about of my experiences with lots of media. Some books, TV shows, a bit of animes and movies... And a BUNCH of games because interacting with the surroundings is the only way to make my brain work lately... And those posts will be like essays or story times with a lot of rambling, because I'm writing this as I my mind goes off. *sweats*

I decided to start this with Ninjago, because- c'mon, everything here began with the silly lego kids show. And totally not because I'm not sure what else should I talk about. Yup. Totally not.

My first interaction with Ninjago came in mid 2014. I was one of those kids who grew up with subscription TV, so most of my time was passed by watching whatever was going on the screen. One day I was locked in, watching our late Disney XD.

That's when it happened. A call-out during the interval showing the Ninja out in space. Zane bugging out on his teached outfit, more ninja shenanigans, and Lloyd saying something like 'New Ninjago City being in danger". Seeing that, my first thought was 'Oh, cool. Lego makes PS2 games, so of course they would make cartoons too'.

Then my mind drift away from that and I never thought about Ninjago again.

A few weeks later, I was eating good ol' breakfast, watching Disney XD again when the next incoming show was the lego ninja show I saw before. I decided to take a look to see what was all that about.

Now okay, if you had to an early Ninjago episode to someone to watch, it would be "Home", "Tick Tock"... Not freaking "Once Bitten, Twice Shy". Not that is a bad episode, it's just... that's a strange starting point. Even so, that's what I got.

While I watched it the fancy blue guy, I couldn't stop but think 'oh. He's a loser. He's just like me for real' and kinda gotta attached to him quickly. I learned everyone's names as the episode kept going. After it finished, I ended up liking what I saw it and hoping to get to see more of it some time.

And then I completely forgot about the show again. XD

A few days later, I just got back from school and played Disney XD on my TV again. (Don't ask what was my obsession with Disney XD, I don't know as well) This time, Ninjago was passing over again. This time, it was the first episode of Season 2, though I didn't knew that yet. I watched the entire episode in silence, loving what was on screen. After the episode ended, I decided I should give it a try and watch the show properly. All of that while the Season 3 call-outs kept appearing.

That got me thinking... Lloyd was a kid on the episodes I watched, but he looked older on Season 3. Does that mean there's a huge time-skip a few episodes later? Oh, or what if the core four ninja somehow travel to the future to a apocaliptic Ninjago destroyed by a villain? Crazy ideas of a weird kid, folks. Those ideas made me playout a season to myself, and that's horrible to remember.

After that, somehow I watched "The Void" in the meantime, and then I really fell in love with the show. (Weird episode to truly start my obsession, but oh well) That's when I began to religiously watch Ninjago every single day of the week. Everyday, at 10:00 AM you would find me staring at the screen.

Jay and Zane were my favorites. Jay because I relate to his struggles a lot, and Zane because... Please early Zane is a peak character. I didn't had any strong feelings for Kai and Cole. They were just meatheads on my headspace. Nya was also just there to me, because for little me she was just there for female representation. (I mean, she kinda was, but-)

Then, I really liked Lloyd, loved Garmadon for his nuance, and had lots of fun with Pythor. Season 1 was a blast to go trough, and then we got to Season 2. Where my hot take is. Because like I said before, I'm a sucker for the Mega Weapon Arc. It was cool to see them all living some kind of life together.

Then for the second half of the season, things got really mixed up in my mind. I couldn't remember the episodes names nor what happens in them. The only one I knew vividly was "The Last Voyage" for the ship sailed hijinks and the great Zane moments. At that point, Zane was clearly my favorite character.

After that, everything got mixed up on my mind again. The Dark Island just wasn't for me I guess. Then we got to all the Overlord overthrowing Garmadon and I felt... Nothing much? I liked more when it was Father vs. Son. The Overlord was just another evil guy that wasn't as close as fun and charming as Pythor. Then, after everyone got their happy ending in the end, I felt in awe.

Then, a day before starting Season 3, I kept wondering what was going to happen. The evillest guy was defeated, Garmadon was saved, everything was fine. Maybe the ninja will train more people to be ninja for the world? Maybe there's going to be new characters?

And hey, I got a silver star for guessing them training (okay, more teaching, but-) kids. Huh.

I really liked the start of Season 3. We got new and interesting characters on Cyrus Borg and Pixal. (Okay, maybe not early Pixal, but Pixane is too pure for my heart) We have a start full of chaos, the Overlord returns, there's Nindroids like Zane now, and oh my God-

I felt really enraged with the love triangle, especially on Nya's and start getting annoyed with her on screen. Jay dropped a like for me for his atitude, and Cole... I was feeling nothing for Cole back then. Kai got a few points for his solo episode though, I start to see him as a goofball. I loved Lloyd and Garmadon's interactions, especially with how moody Lloyd was. Then Pythor came back, the Overlord was getting funny to see throwing tantruns, and when I noticed the days passed and I was already on the finale.

I was not ready for it. Not with Zane being my favorite character. As the scene kept going and the things were clicking on my head... Well I... Okay, first of all, I'm a EXTREMELY PASSIONAL PERSON. I get too attached to the smallest things. My family makes fun of me for that all the time.

So yeah, I reacted horribly. I was crying, bawling my eyes out, screaming at the screen and pleading for Zane not to die. Both me and my young brother cried at it. And then there was the funeral, and I felt horrible. Then, just to toy with my feelings, the last scene of the season shows that maybe Zane survived somehow.

And... That was the end of Ninjago for me. Those were the episodes. After that, the show just got itself on repeat from the Pilots to "The Titanium Ninja" everyday. That didn't stop from watching them, though. It was everything I had.

Little by little, I disconnected myself from it. There was no more episodes to watch, I pratically had all 40 episodes engraved in mind, so that was it. Me and my brother just moved on to the next big thing.

That is, until 2015, on our winter, when a new call-out appeared on the TV screen...

But that's a story for the next time, because GOD I wrote too much and this part is too long already. So until next time, guys! Hope to see you again!

[authorjoeypaul]

I'd like to welcome Melanie Hooyenga to the blog today for an interview. I've reviewed a bunch of her books recently and wanted to share more about her as an author!

Onto the interview!

Do you have a set routine for writing?

Lately it seems to be “guilt trip myself until I sit down to write,” haha. Launching The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway took a lot of time and energy, and in the few weeks around the publication date, everything else had to wait. Now I’m trying to get back into my routine, which consists of me bringing a cup of tea to my office first thing in the morning, settling in my chaise chair, starting the playlist for my book, and writing for 45 minutes to an hour. I have an 8–5 day job, and writing first thing in the morning before the rest of the world and my responsibilities creep in leaves me feeling satisfied because I’ve accomplished one big to-do for the day.

I should point out that this is my ideal routine. All kinds of things can disrupt that routine, and I’m very cranky when they do, but life happens and I just make sure to do my best to get back to it the following day.

What's your favourite tip for newbie writers?

Keep writing and tell the voice in your head to shut up until you’ve finished the first draft. One of the most challenging things when you first start is believing that you can actually do it. (Honestly, that doesn’t go away, but it’s especially daunting on the first manuscript.) It’s tempting to polish and edit and make that first scene/passage/chapter perfect before moving on, but the best thing you can do is keep pushing forward.

One trick I like to do is if I’m stuck trying to figure out the right word but can’t think of it, I give myself one minute, and after that I put the next best choice in brackets so I know during edits that’s not the word I wanted. More times than not I remember it’s the wrong word when I come across it, but it satisfies my inner critic while I’m writing.

Do you hoard notebooks or anything else writing related?

I own all the pens and markers known to humankind. Okay, maybe not all of them, but I have more writing devices than any one person really ought to have. In fact, I once did a giveaway asking people to guess how many I owned. People often gift me pens and markers — WHICH I LOVE — and I still can’t resist them when I stroll down the office supply aisle.

Which genre is your favourite to write in?

YA! All ten books that I’ve published are young adult, and while I don’t have any plans to deviate from that, the first two books I wrote (but haven’t published) were written for an adult audience. I may tackle an adult novel at some point, but I’m in no rush.

Would you ever use a pen name? And if so, why?

Hooyenga is technically a pen name because it’s my maiden name. I wasn’t married when I published my first book in 2012, so I planned all along to continue writing under that name.

I’m currently only writing young adult books, but I know a lot of YA authors who’ve switched to a pen name when they publish books for an adult audience, or books that are a very different genre (from romance to science fiction, for example). At the moment I don’t have plans to add a pen name, but I’ve learned to never say never!

Which social media do you enjoy using the most?

I’m on Facebook a lot, but that’s more for keeping up with friends and events in my area. I really like the vibe on Threads and have been spending more time there lately. Instagram will always have a soft spot in my heart because I love photography and have a background in design, so I’m well-suited for that platform. I’m still mourning Twitter’s demise. Bluesky hasn’t quite filled that loss for me, and TikTok is one of my least-opened apps.

Do you have any pets?

Boy, do I! I have a Miniature Schnauzer named Gus who is ALL personality. He has an Instagram (@greetingsfromgus) with over 15K followers, but most of those followers are from our previous dog, Owen. Gus is three years old, can jump three times his height, and barks at absolutely everything. We brought him home a month after I started working remotely, so he’s very attached to me. Schnauzers are very smart and pretty high energy, and Gus keeps us on our toes.

Do you keep good reviews and reader comments?

No, but now you’ve given me the idea! A lot of authors avoid reading reviews, and you’ll regularly see advice to avoid Goodreads like the plague, not because it’s a horrible place, but because it’s a place for READERS. Once a book is published, you as the author no longer have control over how people interpret what you wrote and any opinions — good or bad — that come with it. And people can be mean.

But people can also be so delightfully amazing. One of my favorite things about writing is hearing how the stories that came from my brain affect living, breathing people. Even better if I can watch them while they’re reading and store those reactions for times when I’m second-guessing myself.

I have been collecting what I think are funny reactions to TQUEE. Things like “what did I just read?!?” and “This book was a trip.” I just need a minute to sit down and put it together.

Paperback or ebook? And why?

Ebooks, definitely. I almost always buy paperback copies of my friends’ books so I do have a nice collection, but I tend to read in bed and I like the simplicity of not having to move and just clicking the button to change pages.

Where do you see yourself, and your writing, in ten years?

Hopefully on even more bookshelves than I am now! I recently signed with an agent so my plan moving forward is to be a hybrid author, meaning my books will be both traditionally- and self-published. I’m working on the first book my agent plans to pitch to editors and I have several ideas for after that. I’m really excited to see where that goes!

You can follow Melanie on her website, Facebook, Instagram, Threads, Bluesky, Goodreads, and Bookbub!

Join Joey here on the blog on Fridays for interviews, reviews and guest bloggers. If you'd be interested in doing any of those, you can contact Joey here

[bereft-of-frogs]

🎉 the return of the friday list

hey remember when I used to do this every week for a bit and then I stopped? well, doing it again because this is my blog and no one can stop me

📚 reading/watching/listening to:

🤖 [ audiobook ] Rogue Protocol - Martha Wells: I am having violent thoughts about everyone who ever hurt Murderbot. We're unpacking so much trauma in this book lol. Got less than an hour left, will probably finish it this afternoon. Someone get this robot a warm blanket and a new season of Sanctuary Moon STAT!!

☄️ [ book ] Catalyst - James Luceno: I've had this on my to read list for a long time and thought I'd be ironic. It's ok so far, about a third in. I remain underwhelmed by Luceno's writing of women but it turns out he's not the only one so. Eh. More things not to mention on Reddit (my most downvoted posts have been ones where I’m critical of Luceno, the fanboys LOVE him.)

🌌 [ tv ] The Expanse: I've been annoying enough Expanse-posting every damn day so y'all know where I'm at already and probably more of my feelings than you want. I'm about midway through season 2, everyone is still just a little too mean to each other and bad at their jobs for my tastes, but I'll always have the book versions lol. I think my problem is I just really like it when people communicate and are also good at their jobs, and TV production tends to like when people don't communicate and are bad at their jobs, because it makes for more drama. But idk I personally think that having someone generally competent make a bad decision is better drama but that’s just me. Effects remain unmatched and there are a lot of good things, I just miss my married trauma-bonded ducklings

🛸 [ tv ] The X-Files: Finished season 5! A return to form. I liked season 5 a lot more than 4, I think it took itself more seriously. Onto the first movie tonight. I'm a little nervous about how it will hold up because it is such a trash favorite. I loved this movie when I was a kid, but all I remember about it are bees????

🤖 [ tv ] Murderbot: Watched the first episode last night, will watch the second tonight. Ok so far! Definitely an intro, in that it was just dropping little hints of the deeper plot while remaining relatively shallow in tone. I didn't have as many fears as some fans because I'm not as emotionally attached to the books yet, but it did manage to land on my only one, which was that I felt Sanctuary Moon was just a bit to heavy-handed with the parody. I did feel a tiny bit made fun of. I'm not sure why that is, especially when you compare it to stuff like the fake show in Avenue 5, which I found hilarious, but it was just a tiny bit over the top.

🌿 weekend to dos:

long run + grocery store! (one of my new favorite running trails is right outside the grocery store, it's so convenient)

watch many things including: the first X-Files film (I think they call it 'Fight the Future' now, but when I first watched it, it was just 'The X-Files') -> the new TLOU episode I neglected on Sunday -> second episode that's out of Murderbot -> next up in my Expanse marathon

rainy weekend again so I have some writing things to do including rewriting the last action section that really needs a second pass, a few more edits, and getting this 85k fic at least partially formatted to post. hoping to start posting next Friday, because by the chapter count that will take me to the end of August and that feels very neat. the first couple chapters are ready to go, honestly, it's just chapter 4 that has two lengthy action sequences that are a hot mess right now. short fic rough drafts only after I finish all that. as a treat.

emotionally prepare for ✨ 'corporate team building week'✨ aka do nothing and talk to no one because I'm going to spend 3 days having to talk to a LOT of people and going from 'data entry hermit who doesn't talk to anyone and just listens to audiobooks every day' to 'meet a bunch of strangers and pretend to care about my job' is a bit draining. it is pretty fun though and then everyone scatters back to their various wfh setups and I can return to my audiobooks. I also might go to the good thrift store to find some corporate cosplay lol

🌻 have a good weekend!

[enchi-elm]

On this day, September 5 in 1779, the historical Benjamin Tallmadge and Caleb Brewster were briefly united in person—a rare event, contrary to their portrayal in Turn: Washington’s Spies. The occasion was an attempt to oust a nest of Loyalist marauders—privateers—who were menacing the northern coast of Long Island in the very area where Abraham Woodhull was conducting his spy activities. The Loyalist “freebooters”, as Tallmadge describes them in his memoir, were encamped near a fortified post, the garrison Fort Franklin, on a “promontory or elevated piece of ground next to the Sound, between Huntington Harbour and Oyster Bay”. The site is known today as Fort Hill Estate.

Tallmadge and Brewster and their men (a detachment and Brewster’s whaleboat fleet) arrived on Lloyd’s Neck at 10 pm after a five hour row across the Sound and set about attacking the encampment. Tallmadge’s plan was to take them quietly—without a single shot fired—so that once the marauders were dispatched they had a clean shot at the nearby British garrison. They captured almost the whole band, with only a few escapees, one of which fired a shot that alerted the British—their chance at the garrison was foiled. Still, Tallmadge, Brewster, and their prisoners departed quickly after destroying all the boats they could find. They rowed back to Connecticut (presumably another five hour row, argh) and arrived before sunrise without the loss of a single Patriot.

244 years later, on this day, September 5 in 2023, I finished my Tallster fanfiction “You’ve Caught Me Between Wind and Water”. I did not include any pirates, to my great regret. This story is my longest project to date and one that’s very dear to me.

I was pondering its 1-year completion anniversary—today, September 5, 2024, and whether I should write an epilogue for the story. What would they be doing a year after the events of Wind and Water? Bonus, what would they have been doing in that September of 1779 specifically? Imagine my tickled surprise, dear Readers, when the historical record delivered such serendipity. (Big BIG thank you to @ollieoliveoboelo22 for giving me photos of Tallmadge’s memoir and Alexander Rose’s book on the passages in question).

Of course they’re together in real life. Of course they’re ousting pirates. Of course they’re performing a raid.

And—the garrison! As readers may or may not know, taking down a garrison head-on was the planned finale for much of the time I spent writing the story. (It’s not subtle, there are a lot of hints.) In the end, I ended up shifting the focus to taking down a bunch of marauding Loyalists who were terrorizing the country-side and hassling Patriots. That fictional raid ended up being a major reconciliation for Ben and Caleb, who were on the outs.

So to go back in time and read about the events of September 5, 1779, and find out that Ben and Caleb were brought together in real life to take down a garrison—and failing that, settled for taking down a bunch of marauding Loyalists who were terrorizing the country-side and hassling Patriots… well, it must be some sort of divine sign.