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peachyteez · 3 years

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harmless pranks ≫ DAY ONE, WOOYOUNG?!

this mischevious dolphin hybrid escaped an illegal experiment lab and has wandered the ocean for almost a year. all he longed for was love and attention—maybe even a family. who knew his “little” prank on jiyu would be the beginning to all of his wishes being granted.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee, @kingalls00, @sanstreasure0305, @sparklingmallow, @kpopnightingale, @rosesarethebest, @stillcantfindaproperusername, @bonbonhwa, @its-sarah-stark, @sanismybb, @frankenstein852, @peachseok, @woopetals, @exhofayemars, @pvrkacciosan,

✧ can’t be tagged: @alienmashup, @c-sanshine, @int0chae

✧ notes: surprise! i know i scheduled the release for may 7th, but thought i’d release it a little early :)

next。

“i can’t believe you’re up and leaving us for a month,” yeonjun sarcastically commented while helping her lug her last luggage into the mercedes van that sunwoo had been so generous enough to send to pick them up. “and from the looks of it, it doesn’t look like soobin, beomgyu, and taehyun are going to let go of the others.”

and true to his word, she looked over to see them gathered in a group hug. beomgyu clung onto yunho with teary eyes, he’s never been separated from him for a month before. yunho gently pat the younger puppy’s head with a small smile.

she chuckled at the heartwarming scene. “guys, you’ll still be able to call and facetime. and you’re acting like we’re never coming back! we’re only going to jeju island.”

“but what if you run away with this person because they’re rich?” beomgyu asked, ignorant to her background. at his question, the other boys gasped and whipped their heads over to her.

her smile slightly faltered, forgetting that they don’t know of her origins. she knew she’d have to come clean someday—maybe this trip was the right time to tell.

“don’t be ridiculous, of course we are,” she gently reprimanded before coming over to ruffle beomgyu’s hair. “beomgyu’s imagination is just running a tad bit wild.”

pouting, beomgyu shifted from yunho to engulf her in a bear hug.

“soobin and i’ll make sure beomgyu doesn’t grow any grey hairs while worrying about you guys,” taehyun jokingly reassured. he knew beomgyu well enough, even though he was an addition to the family a month ago.

“miss, it’s about time to depart to the airport,” the driver informed with a bow.

with a nod, she rubbed beomgyu’s head. “okay, we need to go now, bub. we’ll message you when we get there, okay?”

reluctantly nodding, beomgyu let her go. he joined soobin, taehyun, and yeonjun to see them off, waving until they not longer saw the black vehicle.

in the car, yunho, mingi, san, and yeosang were fascinated with how fancy the interior was. there were two rows of two seats, and row with three seats in the back. the seats were so comfortable, and it was so roomy; an environment unfamiliar to the hybrids. while seonghwa and yunho knew somewhat of her background, the others wondered how she managed to afford something like this.

“is your friend rich?” san asked, looking back to face jiyu. seating arrangements were decided by an intense game of rock-paper-scissors. in the end, yeosang and hongjoong sat in front, mingi and san were in the middle row, and jiyu was squished in between yunho and seonghwa in the back.

“that’s one way of putting it, yes.” in truth, she was worried about how they would react to her and sunwoo’s background. most of them had come from influential families or illegal organizations to begin with. having terrible memories with them, would they change once they knew who she really was?

“but don’t worry, he’s really nice! he has a hybrid friend of his own, too. i think he said a german shepard hybrid.” yunho seemed to perk up at the thought of meeting another dog hybrid.

“hm...if you say so. if you trust him, then we do, too,” hongjoong said before getting comfortable in the seat.

upon arriving at the airport, the van immediately took them to the runway where a private plane was parked and waiting. she assumed it was sunwoo’s. the boys plastered their faces against the van windows at the sight of the plane. they’ve never been on one before, hence their childlike fascination.

“are we really going on that?” san asked with excitement. “i love your friend already,” he teasingly commented.

jiyu softly chuckled as the van came to a stop. hopping out, she saw sunwoo standing at the entrance to the plane with a hybrid she assumed was eric. catching sight of jiyu, he started climbing down the stairs. she smiled and waved to him, an action he returned with a small chuckle.

“were you waiting long?”

he shook his head. “don’t worry, we came ten minutes ago. eric’s been eager to meet you and your—” seeing the six hybrids behind her filing out of the van, his eyes widened. he knew she had hybrids, but he didn’t really know what to expect. “you have six?”

she sheepishly chuckled. “yeah...i hope you don’t mind. they won’t bite if that’s what you’re worried about.”

on the contrary, sunwoo didn’t mind at all; it actually made her a hundred times cooler in his eyes if anything. he’s never met a girl who managed to befriend six different hybrid breeds. but then again, with her job, he should’ve seen it coming. despite that, she just kept surprising him with who she is.

“guys, this is sunwoo,” she called out to the boys. “he’s the friend i was talking about!”

while the boys acquainted themselves with sunwoo, the german shepard hybrid approached jiyu with a friendly smile. “hi, i’m eric! although i think sunwoo told you plenty about me already.”

jiyu giggled at the boy’s abundance of energy. “he has mentioned you a few times. i’m jiyu.”

eric enthusiastically nodded. “i’ve heard about you a lot, too! sunwoo didn’t stop talking about you for a whole week after your first meeting.”

jiyu felt her face flush at the new piece of information. “a week—”

“ji! sunwoo said there’s also video games on the plane!”

before eric could continue exposing sunwoo, yunho came bounding up to her with the others in tow. with their calm and excited demeanor, she assumed that they managed to feel relaxed and at home with sunwoo, which made her happy and relieved.

“is that so?” she mused, rubbing the spot behind his ears. yunho nodded and giggled, pushing his head into jiyu’s hands. eric glanced at sunwoo and couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the sight of the soft look on his friend’s face.

snapping out of his reverie, sunwoo cleared his throat. “we should get going.”

the plane ride nothing out of the ordinary—the boys were getting to know eric, while jiyu and sunwoo caught up over a glass of champagne.

“so it seems like your friends don’t know about you yet?” sunwoo inquired. “i told eric to keep his mouth shut about it just in case.”

softly shaking her head, she quietly glanced at the hybrid group that had passed out not too long ago after expending all of their energy. “only seonghwa and yunho know about it. i never found the right time to tell the others but this trip might be it.”

mingi had sleepily wandered over towards them and plopped down next to her before laying his head on her lap. within a few minutes, his breath evened out again.

an endearing chuckle left her lips as she threaded her fingers through his faded red hair. “ah, you big baby,” she cooed.

sunwoo watches her with a soft smile on his face. he watches the way she gently lulls the giant bunny to sleep, the mother-like smile on her face, the gentle aura she exudes—he could go on and on. she was completely different from what he had been expecting. while they had a few brief meetings during company gatherings, she always had a blank expression, never smiling nor frowning. it was almost like she was more robot than human.

when his parents had informed him of his future marriage with her, he didn’t know how to react. a part of him would’ve been lying if he had denied feeling the tiniest bit of disdain at his fate.

but lo and behold, she managed to leave him soft and charmed with every meeting, even if this was only their second one.

“sir, ma’am, we’ll be landing in about ten minutes. please fasten your seatbelts.”

his pilot’s voice managed to break him out of his thoughts, leaving him to scramble to sit up straighter and cool his flushed face.

“i should wake them up,” jiyu said, completely unaware of sunwoo’s dilemma. softly shaking mingi’s shoulder, she gently prodded him awake before relaying the pilot’s message to him. padding over to the others, she did the same.

sunwoo sighed before buckling in his own seatbelt. he needed to keep himself in check around her before he accidentally does something that would embarrass himself. this is going to be a long month.

upon arriving at the private vacation home, jiyu was already bombarded with the youngers’ pleas to go to the beach. luckily for them, the vacation home was just down the street from the beach, giving them easy access to visit whenever they wanted.

“i’m really sorry, i hope you don’t mind,” she apologized to sunwoo for the fact that they were going to the beach the moment they put their bags down. “if you’re tired, you can stay. i can take—”

sunwoo’s soft chuckle made her pause mid-sentence. she didn’t know he was capable of making such a melodious sound. while she was still living in the main house, her friends had painted him to be an aloof person. and even from what she saw at company dinners. the daughters of other elites were always throwing themselves at him, offering him drinks and their company.

yet every singe time without fail, he would coldly reject them.

so when yuta had told her that he was the one her father set her up with, she was doubtful if they could even be civil with each other.

“it’s fine, i’ll go with you and the others. eric’s been pestering me to go, too so it works out.”

the soft and friendly expression was just proof to her that maybe, just maybe, she had been judging the facade he puts up.

“oh, okay then!” she smiled before scurrying to her room to change. “let’s meet back here when we’re ready!”

watching her excited like a child to go to the ocean, he couldn’t contain the smile that he had been biting back. he was glad that they could at least be friends despite the circumstances.

“stop staring at her door and go change, loverboy.”

he was bought back to reality by his best friend’s quip. throwing him a half-hearted glare, he trudged to his room. “i wasn’t staring.” even his protest was weak.

eric couldn’t help the smirk that crosses his face. he’s known his best friend long enough to know that he never gets like this around girls. “this should be an interesting trip.”

by the time they all met back up to leave, it was two p.m.—a prime time for the sun to be out and bestowing them with it’s heat on their short walk to the beach.

“it’s the ocean!” yunho shouted with utter glee and happiness as he and eric raced each other across the sand and to the water. the others ran after them, even san who ended up straying on shore and dipping his feet in the water. hongjoong joined him as he watched over the others in the water.

jiyu and sunwoo had found a group of beach chairs under a big umbrella and tossed their bags down. stretching her limbs, jiyu sprawled out on a chair and closed her eyes for a brief moment. hearing the ocean waves along with the cheerful shouts of the boys in the water made her smile with content.

cracking an eye open, she caught sunwoo throwing off the white t-shirt he had on and shaking his head afterward to fix his hair. her eyes raked over his body against her own will. his lean figure, the define abs lined on his stomach, and the hints of muscles on his arm only served to have a volcano of butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“everything okay?” he asked, leaning down towards her face.

looking away from his piercing gaze, she jumped up and quickly discarded her own outerwear before speed-walking towards the water. “yep! just great!” she definitely didn’t miss the smirk that was threatening to take over his face.

sunwoo smirked before running to catch up with her. he couldn’t help but take note of the red two-piece she was sporting. a part of him wanted to throw his earlier discarded t-shirt over her to give her coverage from other people’s gazes that were lingering just a bit too long, but he bit back his own desire.

after all, they were just budding friends who were about to be stuck in an arranged, and potentially loveless, marriage.

but that didn’t stop him from lifting her up and tossing her into the water.

emerging back up, she had to rub her eyes to get rid of the salt water before throwing a glare towards the laughing culprit.

“kim sunwoo!” she stood up and crossed her arms across her chest like an angry child.

“i had to—hey!”

too busy caught up in his own laughter, he failed to notice the wolf hybrid sneaking up behind him to exact revenge for jiyu. emerging up next to jiyu, shook his head to remove excess water out of his hair before looking for his culprit. seeing the proudly-smiling seonghwa on shore with his hands on his hips, he let out snort.

“alright, you got me.”

she burst into giggles before floating on her back. looking up at the sky, there were no hints of clouds—just the endless blue that seemed to stretch out for miles on end. feeling someone tug her feet, she perked her head up to see yeosang pulling her.

“you were floating too far out,” he informed before lightly flicking her forehead. “watch out before you float away and we’re stranded here without you,” he added with a chuckle, just barely missing the splash of water that jiyu retaliated with, before swimming off back to yunho and mingi.

“he seems fun to be around,” sunwoo said as swam up to join her. “he reminds me of eric, only more sass.”

“yeah, i never know where his sass comes from—”

she was cut off by a huge splash of water from behind that had not only hit her, but also sunwoo. turning around, she expected it to be yeosang, san, or eric.

but no one was behind them.

sunwoo furrowed his eyebrows. the hybrid group was at least twenty feet away from them—there was no way any of them could’ve done it since he and jiyu would’ve heard them swimming off or laughing.

“that’s odd, who—ah!”

before jiyu could finish her sentence, a pair of arms grabbed her waist and yanked her underwater. having no time to react, she felt herself being tugged away as they started swimming with her in tow.

sunwoo swore his heart almost stopped; whether it be from the fact that it all happened so quickly or the fact that jiyu could potentially be drowning, he didn’t know. he didn’t have time to know.

“oi, what the—!”

his scream caught the others attention. looking over, they sunwoo looking frantic pulling something up from under the water.

but there was no jiyu.

they all swam over with urgency, fearing something went wrong.

“where is she?” hongjoong asked, brows furrowing with panic. the others looked ready to fight what or whoever took jiyu, even yunho and mingi even though they both looked on the verge of crying.

“something pulled her down and just...swam away!”

meanwhile, underwater, jiyu was having a ball trying to fight off what or whoever pulled her down. it was definitely a person—she felt the arms around her waist and the hard chest that was tightly pressed against her back. looking behind her she managed to make out a male with majestic, black with gold highlights.

the lack of air snapped her back to reality from her gawking and she stared to try and pry the man’s hands off of her. as if catching onto her message, he quickly brought her back up to the surface.

inhaling like her life depended on it and coughing out some water, she turned around and glared at whoever decided to try and almost drown her.

but before she could her a word out, she was blown away by how...pretty the man staring back at her was. with his hair tucked behind his ears, it framed his face perfectly, showing off his distinct and defined facial features.

but something else caught her eye.

the lower half of his body was a tail. eyes flicking back and forth from the man’s face to the tail, her mouth opened and closed like fish out of water.

“a fish h-hybrid..?”

“oi, jiyu!”

at the sound of her name, she looked behind the man to see everyone swimming up to her. it turned out that they weren’t that far away from shore—the man, or hybrid, just took her along the shoreline rather than farther out like she had originally thought.

the unknown hybrid just watched as the seven other hybrids and sunwoo crowded her to make sure she was okay. yeosang profusely apologized, saying “i know i joked about you floating away and stranding us, but i didn’t mean to make that a reality”.

sunwoo ruffled her wet hair, breathing out a sigh of relief. “you scared me there. i thought i was going to lose you on the first day here.”

“huh? yeosang?”

at the sound of his name, yeosang turned around and practically fainted. he literally swam past him, how did he manage to miss the extremely familiar face. he stared at the underwater hybrid, wide-eyed, like he had witnessed another miracle from the universe. the unknown man mirrored yeosang’s look.

“wooyoung?!”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #ateez wooyoung #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

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shiroganeryo · 3 years

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Komui's Discussion Room content (DGM 27)

Volume 27 has been released recently here in Brazil and I realized the remaining of Komui’s Discussion Room were nowhere to be found in English, but after reading all of it, I thought there are very interesting things hence why I wanted to share!

Please bear in mind this is not a direct translation, but a summary.

I have a lot of criticism when it comes to Viz Media’s release (official English), but I’m quite content with the work Panini, the distributor of D.Gray-Man in Brazil, has done so far with the official Portuguese release. If there are any mistakes, please bear in mind I translated the information directly from their version.

There are 11 questions covered in this summary. For the others, please check Jeidafei’s translations on them (totally recommend it!): Part 1 | Part 2 | Author's note & Thanks Corner | Extra

Without further ado, let’s get into it! This got very long.

≫ Kanda hasn’t reached the “critical point” in synchronization yet (+ why Allen isn’t a General)

In the question “How did Kanda hide having gone past the critical point”, Tiedoll answers that he actually has the potential it takes to do it but hasn’t done it yet. Still on the same question, they answer a related question about Allen’s critical point: “If Allen has reached the critical point, why wasn’t he appointed to become a general during the Order’s reconstruction?”

Allen replies that it was impossible at that time since Central was keeping watch over him. Tiedoll adds that he’s also too young and the only one able to operate the Ark, the latter making Central even more suspicious of him. General Cross’s reputation also seems to have played a part in this, having the higher-ups deem Allen as someone they couldn’t trust enough.

Ryo’s note: Allen thanks Tiedoll for putting his thoughts about Cross into words and Cross simply laughs it off. XD

≫ Sleeping positions

They get asked about their sleeping positions. Tiedoll describes how Kanda sleeps with detail (when younger, in fetal position; nowadays, he sleeps lying on his side, preferentially the right side).

Allen comments that Johnny sleeps sprawled on the floor or the desk and that everyone in the Science Division sleeps like this; when he first saw it, he got concerned thinking something tragic had happened. Johnny says it’s comfortable to sleep like this, but Allen isn’t so sure.

Cross comments on how Allen sleeps; he mentions he likes to sleep hugging something and when he can’t do it, he complains until falling asleep. Allen gets flustered and claims that he got used to sleeping with Tim because he used to be big, but is over it nowadays. Johnny remembers Link used to tell him not to sleep with the piggy-bank, to which Allen replies that it was “not a sleeping position, but survival instincts”.

Kanda comments on how he brought a ton of food to the infirmary one time and says it was annoying to listen to him eating nonstop. Allen replies with sarcasm (“sorry for needing to eat to recover my energies”).

Cross sleeps naked, with his arms open (according to Allen).

Tiedoll sleeps on his stomach, blanket over his face.

Ryo’s note: The time Kanda is referring to is in Chapter 135 (135th Night: Repose, Partly Cloudly).

≫ The symbol on the CROWs' foreheads

Cross replies that it’s probably the compulsory mark of the procedure that transforms regular people in CROWs. Tiedoll says that Cross knows a lot, as expected of someone who’s able to use magic –he shrugs off the compliment – and Kanda asks when and how exactly someone like him learned it. He angrily says he didn’t learn it anywhere and ends the question at Allen’s remark that he always gets angry when people ask.

Ryo’s note: This is interesting. Could imply he was the one to teach magic to Nea (and the Earl himself?), and not the other way around. But, it’s also possible he just didn’t want to answer.

≫ “What is something you find impressive on the other, but have never admitted?”

Johnny decides to start with Kanda and Allen, and the two exchange insults for several lines.

Johnny then passes the baton to the Generals, who do the exact same as their apprentices.

Johnny ends the question with a thank you and sweating nervously.

Ryo’s note: By “insults”, I mean things like Kanda calling Allen a crybaby, and Allen saying Kanda’s dumb. Tiedoll calls Cross a delinquent; Cross calls him “doting dad”. The list goes on…

≫ The time Kanda spent with General Tiedoll right after becoming his apprentice (+ Allen’s time with Cross)

They are asked what was the most outstanding episode from such a time, and Kanda absentmindedly says he forgot. Tiedoll seems disappointed, stating they had made so many marvelous memories together, to which Kanda replies “please stop talking in this weird way”.

Allen asks how the travels were, and Tiedoll says the most important at that time was to take care of mending Kanda’s heart. They spent much time talking about amenities, having contact with plants and animals and admiring beautiful landscapes. Tiedoll believes that getting in touch with beautiful things can help to connect with the world, despite carrying the burden of being a Second; he wanted Kanda to feel like regular people feel about the world.

Johnny and Allen are touched, and the latter comments how jealous he is. Cross then reminds Allen of how many bedsheets he had to wash because of him, making him flustered. He then goes on to remind how not only he did that but also had to feed him – Tiedoll comments on how it seems impossible to imagine Cross doing all that – and even help him change many times.

Allen’s embarrassment reaches the maximum and he threatens to beat Cross if he keeps talking about that.

≫ Stories of when Kanda and Lenalee were little

Kanda tries to shrug the question off, but Johnny insists they answer. Tiedoll says that the two of them were really cute, just like two lilies that bloomed inside the gray scenery of the Order; Kanda tells him to stop.

Allen is uninterested in Kanda, but wants to hear about Lenalee. Cross asks him if he likes her, and says he thought he had a girlfriend in the Asian Branch already. Allen denies it and says both LouFa and Lenalee are his friends; Cross laughs, saying he doesn’t judge, and Allen nearly snaps in irritation (again).

Johnny moves on to answer the question; Kanda is against it, but Tiedoll holds him in place. Johnny tells that Jiji told him that at first, Kanda would be asked if Lenalee could train with him, but he would shrug her off saying he didn’t want to train with a girl, which would make her cry.

Every time Kanda made Lenalee cry, she would run off to Reever. In reality, Johnny thinks she wanted to talk to Komui instead, but she thought he was busy and didn’t want to bother him, resulting in her crying at Reever’s desk. Tiedoll and Allen are weeping at it (they thought it’s cute).

While Reever comforted Lenalee, Marie would appear bringing Kanda along, who had no idea how to apologize, while Lenalee would bashfully hide inside Reever’s lab coat. This kept happening until he eventually accepted to train with her.

Johnny starts telling another story involving Kanda’s meditation and Lenalee coming back tired from a mission, but Kanda interrupts him. Allen says it’s being fun and tells him not to bother.

Kanda tells him to shut up, calling him a bedwetter. Allen snaps (again).

Ryo’s note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

≫ “Who amongst the Noah would Allen best go along with? Hypothetically speaking.”

Allen and Kanda are worn out from fighting (see the previous question); Johnny is giving them calming tea. Tiedoll says that it seems Allen and Tyki Mikk looked friendly when talking to each other, and Allen interjects saying they’re not friends and that Tyki doesn’t respect the notion of personal space.

He then goes on to say he doesn’t imagine himself being friends with any Noah because they lack common sense. Cross mentions Road and how she’s always being flirty with him, which makes Allen tell him to stop implying things, while sounding unsure about being friends with her or not.

Johnny asks if Allen is embarrassed and reminds Road kissed him. He denies being embarrassed and says that kissing is just a form of greeting for her (he’s sweating nervously while saying so). He adds that, on top of that, he feels like Road sees someone else when she looks at him.

Cross seems amused.

Ryo’s note: This answer is very interesting. It seems to confirm the theory that Road had some kind of connection with past!Allen. We won’t know for sure until it’s revealed, but it does seem to imply such a thing.

≫ The taste of Innocence + the Crystal Type Innocence + Exorcist supplies + Cross suspiciously knowing about the Bookman clan

A reader asks how did Innocence taste like when liquefied; Kanda says it tastes like nothing, similar to water.

Johnny points out the wounds that formed after their Innocence became Crystal types and if they don’t hurt. Kanda says that at the time they don’t, but such wounds won’t heal even with his healing ability – which he concludes makes sense since it’s from where the blood comes out to form the weapons.

Johnny mentions that the Science Division (Komui, more specifically) made Lenalee pills that will prevent anemia. Still on that subject, Allen remembers people had asked what goes inside the bags the Exorcists carry on their uniforms. Johnny says they carry first-aid kits, disinfectants, anti-hemorrhagic meds, and things of the sort. Miranda and Timothy carry sweets with a high intake of calories, Krory carries Akuma blood sweets and Lavi and Bookman asked for migraine meds.

Tiedoll says they are nothing without the support of the Science Division and thanks them. Allen asks about Lavi and Bookman getting migraines. Cross mentions it’s probably from an occupational disease because storing that much information and memories can wreck your head over time.

Allen comments again that he seems to know a lot about the Bookman Clan, and that it’s very suspicious. Cross magnificently shrugs off the question.

≫ Allen’s cheating

Allen gets asked if he becomes bad at luck games (i.e gambling) in case he doesn’t cheat. He says that a bet on luck always rewards something even if gains are small, but Johnny says he’s really bad at things like rock-paper-scissors. Kanda thinks he was just in denial about admitting he’s unlucky.

When scolded by Kanda, Allen says it was a matter of survival and that he never cheated good people on; just bad people.

Johnny says living like this is dangerous and that he should stop; Allen apologizes and says he needs money, and if anything, he can use his Innocence.

Cross is amused and sounds proud. Tiedoll regrets Cross’s influence on Allen.

≫ About Link

Allen gets asked if he has ever seen Link smile, to which he responds he has tried making him laugh/smile, but never could do it. Johnny says that everyone from Central is very serious, especially Link. Tiedoll thinks that it might be forbidden to smile when their superior is Director Lvellie.

Allen goes on to ramble about how Link complained about everything: when he had food on his face after or during eating, asking him to redo reports because they were illegible despite Reever being able to read, scolding him for not drying his hair after going out of the bath because he could get a cold, and how he was a shame for not folding his uniform properly before putting it away.

Cross asks him, “what was he? Your mother?” and Allen says he didn’t get annoyed at him. He wonders if all moms are like this.

Johnny says people were worried when he was assigned to watch Allen, but in the end, Link went along well with everyone and confirms that Allen liked him as well. He also states that Allen’s reports became a lot easier to read thanks to him.

Ryo’s note: Ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary folks: it’s Link appreciation time! *tips hat* Also Allen wondering about how mothers treat their children was just precious, even if it’s a throwaway comment.

≫ The vibe at the Black Order

In the question “Who runs faster, Komui or Reever?”, Johnny says that he thinks Reever is faster; Allen adds that Komui cheats by using Komurin, though. Kanda gets annoyed and tells them they (at the Science Division) should make Komui behave accordingly to his role. Johnny sniffs and says that they try.

Tiedoll says that it’s actually good that Komui is cheerful because the Order used to be a very different place until he took over the post, and that he (Tiedoll) disliked the gloomy aura it used to have. Allen remembers Lenalee commented about it once and asks if the Order was really this different back then. Tiedoll says that even if it’s been built with a noble purpose, human beings aren’t perfect and a lot of things get distorted over a hundred years. He recommends Allen to ask For about it, as she has existed ever since the Order was founded and protects it to this day.

Allen is sad and comments he wants to visit the Asian Branch again someday. Johnny says he’ll go with Allen, but the latter says he would want to eat Jeryy’s food again before that. Cross sneers and wishes good luck.

They wrap it up at this, and both Kanda and Allen look very happy about being done with the Discussion Corner (as noted by Johnny). Tiedoll bids Cross adieu, and says “rest in peace, Marian” – to which he replies “don’t treat me like a ghost”.

Allen says he knows Cross is an illusion created by his weakness, but that he was happy to see him (in reference to the 222nd Night: Searching for A.W - Hypokrisis). Cross tells him not to exaggerate.

Johnny is content that they could finally keep it to the ideal number of pages – something the Discussion Corner is known to usually have trouble with. Tiedoll says that if they had gone overboard, the next issue’s Discussion Corner would be canceled, and wraps up thanking everyone who has cared about Yu so far and asks that people keep cheering for him.

Johnny thanks the readers for sending their questions. Allen and Kanda are relieved it’s over.

Ryo’s note: And that’s it! Man, this got LONG. Thank you very much for reading until the end. Can’t wait for the next Discussion Room, the way Tiedoll worded it makes it seem like it’ll be on the next volume, 28. I’m excited!

If you're interested in seeing more DGM content from me, feel free to check my masterlist here.

#d.gray-man #d.gray man #komui's discussion corner #komui's lounge #Allen Walker #Johnny Gill #Kanda Yuu #Cross Marian #Froi Tiedoll #DGM #I sure hope I didn't count wrong the number of questions #math isn't my forte at all #as for the palette requests: I'm currently working on them!

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

You Again

A/N: Hello! We’re so happy to be posting the first of many one shots to this blog. We have a lot of goodies lined up and coming soon and we’re really excited to be sharing with you all! If you’d like, feel free to follow us to make sure you’re up to date on anything we post :) enjoy!

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: age gap (23/36), alludes to smut

word count: 6.4k

He should have gotten her number.

That thought had been circling his mind for the past year since this stupid speed dating event he had gone to. She was a younger girl, Y/N, her name was. She had been the only one to grab his interest truly, and they’d both laughed off the prospect of dating because, well-- she was 22, and he was 35. That was a major age difference and neither of them were into that. Or so it seemed.

He didn’t get her number.

They’d had a good conversation about how awkward this stuff was, they’d laughed all 10 minutes of the speed date before saying farewell and at the time, Harry ignored the little twinge in his chest that sprouted when she had left him to go talk to someone else. He had figured it was because he thought she was fun to talk to. Now, after many failed blind dates set up by his mother with snooty or money-hungry heiresses, he was looking for something real. Something born out of a connection. Not a fat wallet. And as much as he had tried to deny it in the past, Y/N had been the only one he had felt that with.

He searched for her on Facebook, a website he only used for looking at cat pictures and videos of food he would never make, looking for Y/N’s in the area. He didn’t think there were that many.

That led him back at the place where it all started, this stupid fucking speed dating event that landed him in this mess. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Part of him was hoping he would see her by chance, or maybe someone else that would light up his heart. Naturally, Harry was disappointed to walk in before it started. Y/N wasn’t there-- and yeah, he knew it was a long shot. She was a young, beautiful, sexy and intelligent woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had been scooped up and had a child on the way already.

It filled him with a sadness he couldn’t describe, not having his own family yet. He wanted children so badly, wanted a wife to come home and kiss. His house was too big to be alone. Harry had known what he wanted. A year to be selfish and take up all of his woman’s time, and then babies. Whatever type of marriage ceremony she wanted, he wanted a wife to love on and kiss, to make love to and be silly with.

He looked down at his phone and sighed, scrolling through emails when he heard a familiar voice. Soft and distinct to him-- no fucking way. There was no way.

“Hi, sorry I’m late! I got caught up in traffic and I had to rush over here... did you already start? Is there room for me?” Y/N asked the organizers kindly, knowing they worked so very hard on these events and that lateness was probably not the most tolerated. She had offered up a gentle smile as they told her she’d made it just in time, ushering her over to a table that already had someone sat at it.

Y/N couldn’t lie and say she didn’t come here without purpose. It’s been about a year since she had last been to one of these events and she still thought about what it would have been like to actually date him-- Harry. In their brief 10 minutes together, she gathered that he was ready to settle down, he had his life already together. At the time, it all seemed too quick for her, the idea of having a family at the ripe age of 22. She thought that dating a man who was so set in his ways would mean she didn’t have freedom anymore, but what had really changed in a year? Her mother was still pestering her about having grandchildren, all her friends were getting married. She was still the same Y/N, she still wanted the same things. Sure he was older, 12 years to be exact, but they were both adults! They’d gotten along well! They’d had a good laugh and he wasn’t unattractive either— she so blindly shrugged him off because she thought he wouldn’t want someone so young. Come to think of it, he was a great fit for her and she blew it. Instead, she spent a whole year going on shitty dates, horrible horrible dates that made her want to give up on anything at all. Maybe this little speed date thing would bring her luck again. Just one guy who gave her the same vibe Harry did and she’d be okay.

Funny, if she didn’t know any better she’d think this guy sat at the table she was walking towards was Harry. Dark brown hair, the broad shoulders. The outfit was a bit more eccentric though, that she wasn’t really expecting, but Y/N really wasn’t one to judge. She had grown up a lot in a year, had figured out what she really wanted, she wouldn’t be making the same silly mistake twice.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” She spoke in an apologetic tone, but it wasn’t until she got settled in and looked up at the man sitting across the table that she realized that it was, in fact, Harry who was sat there. Y/N’s eyes went wide, noticing he had a similar expression on his face.

“You again?”

“Fucks sake!” He smiled, leaning forward on the table. “It really is you. Wow...” He took her in. She had grown considerably and he loved it. She was more professional-looking, seemed to have more of her life together. But he was overjoyed. “I can’t believe I found you again! I was trying to find you on Facebook... Do you know how many Y/N’s there are in this city? A stupid amount.” He muttered. “But wow... I didn’t expect to find you here. I was hoping, I mean.” He felt giddy with energy. He had found that he was more excited than he had ever anticipated. “I kept thinking about you since last time. I think I made a mistake.” He said softly. “Not getting your number and laughing off the possibility due to an age difference. That’s my mistake.”

“I mean, maybe it would have helped if I had a Facebook.” Y/N laughed a bit, “but that’s really sweet... Why didn’t you call the organizers? They probably have my information on file.” She hadn’t bothered finding him because well, he was much older and she assumed he wasn’t really looking for her but he’d been looking for her. This whole time.

“I did, they said they weren’t allowed to give out information for safety purposes. I understand that much.” He was glad she wouldn’t be in danger because he had met some crazies when he came last time, that wasn’t her. It was weird. But now, he was hoping that they could continue where they’d left off. “Want to go then?” He asked, looking at her with an amused smirk. “What? There’s no point in being here if we want to just talk to one another. There’s a coffee shop just a few doors down.” He nodded his head towards the door.

Y/N was shocked at his suggestion, but then again she really did remember him always knowing what he wanted. She looked at him with a raised brow for a moment, deciding fuck it. She had gotten back up, blushing as she waved over to the organizers and told them that she’d found what she was looking for. She really had.

----

Y/N got herself a panini and a coffee, paying for it before he even had the chance to offer because who said this date had to end here? Besides, she didn’t want him to think she expected him to pay, she could afford lunch for herself. They’d sat down at a table by the window, a nice cushioned booth for two. It was cute. Y/N had moved the sunglasses up onto her head and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, looking at him with a curious gaze as he observed her.

“What? Haven’t changed that much, have I?”

“No. You just look as though you’ve grown quite a bit. In maturity, I mean. You have the air of someone who is put together. Last time I saw you...” Harry could see her confusion. “You looked more hesitant. More unsure. Now you seem to know what you want. It’s a good thing.” He smiled at her. She was so cute. He was incredibly attracted to her but that wasn’t a surprise. She was beautiful and had pink lips and big eyes and curves. Beautiful. Sure it was a bit soon to think about but, he was sure they’d make fantastic children together. Curly hair and soft little noses. He could only hope they’d get her nose.

“Yeah? Feel like I have. Tried to figure things out, haven’t exactly had the most success.” They both hadn’t clearly. It was nice for Y/N to hear from someone who hadn’t seen her in a year that she had grown up and matured a bit. 22 to 23 was a bigger step than most people believed. Last time they spoke, they had bonded over the fact that both their mothers were looking for them to find partners. They had both been searching for different reasons, but Y/N felt like she had spoken too soon. He wanted a family and a wife to love fairly soon and now that she had a whole year to think about it, Y/N wouldn’t be opposed to being a wife with a family fairly soon.

“How have you been? I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. How your writing has been. You write about home goods, yes?” Harry smiled widely as he settled into his seat, waiting for his coffee and muffin to come to them.

“I’ve been well.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head when he commented about how she wrote about home goods. “Yeah, I’ve um.. I’ve extended my blog page. Been doing well as far as posting goes, have a few brands that consistently work with me.” Y/N nodded with a smile, “Speaking of which, if it’s good here I might just post about it.”

“Yeah?” He was trying to read her. She seemed comfortable enough with him but this was technically a first date type of thing, so he was hoping that she would want to go on more. “That’s amazing. I’m glad that you’ve been able to expand. I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to. To be honest... assumed that you would have been snatched up by now. I’m very surprised that you haven’t been but truthfully, m’ glad.” His lips quirked up. “Gives me my own chance.”

“You flatter me.” Y/N shook her head, knowing full well had he had just been kissing her ass a bit. Sure, she was an attractive young woman, but to think she’d been snatched up by now? She hadn’t been so hopeful. “Though, I can say the same about you.” Y/N blushed, keeping eye contact this time so he knew she was flirting. She knew she could be bad at it at times.

“Has your mother calmed down on trying to get you to date?” He questioned, leaning on his elbows and planting his chin on his joined hands. “Mine certainly hasn’t, but they were god awful. Swear she doesn’t have a good personal radar.”

“My mother cannot be stopped.” Y/N snorted out a laugh, “She’s just... she is setting me up with just about anyone really, just wants me to hurry up and fall in love. She wants grandkids.” Y/N explained, knowing he would understand. Her mom was older than most moms of girls her age, probably much closer to his mom’s age. She wanted grandkids soon. “It’s a shame... but I can’t say I’m too upset with the outcome now. Happy we can at least take things into our own hands.” She took a sip of her coffee. He was very attractive. She couldn’t believe she passed this up last time.

“Me too.” He was beyond happy that Y/N ended up around him. She had taken up a chunk of his brain for a long while. He hadn’t gone full force and asked people to find her because part of him felt as if it was in the stars, then it would happen. And it did. So he was positive now that he needed to try this out. “I understand that. I’ve been on a few and I’ve been so confused as to why my mother set me up with particular people... it made no sense at all. But I had to admit I did compare them to you a bit. I knew I had made a mistake a day or so after the speed dating round the first time, not getting your number at least.” He adjusted in the seat, putting his phone face down on the table after getting a work notification. All his attention was in her. “I have to be honest with you and say ideally I’d like marriage and children in the next 5 or so years.” Ideally as soon as possible. “Look... I know this is an intense conversation for us the first time we truly go somewhere, but I don’t want to waste your time if that isn’t something you’re looking for. You’re a bit younger than me and I know sometimes people want to live fully and then settle down but, I am old.” He joked. “I’ve been wanting a wife and a child desperately. Ultimately it would be up to you whenever a child would come but... I want to make sure we are on similar pages here.”

Y/N was, of course, a bit spooked when he had so casually brought up how he wants to be married and have kids within the next 5 years. She had expected it, knew it was coming. She thought about it before they even met each other again, but hearing it so straight up like that was a bit terrifying. He could surely see it in her eyes.

“It’s not that... it’s not that it’s not something I’m looking for, I am. It’s just very intimidating.” Y/N explained, taking another sip of her coffee. She hoped that he could understand that. It was a lot to think about being married with kids within the next five years, but she would like that. “And it’s not that it isn’t realistic, of course, you wouldn’t be wasting my time as I wouldn’t be wasting yours... I was afraid of it at first but then I thought about it and well, I’ve never been the type to want to live ‘fully’... I review candles and home goods for a living, I think I’m a bit past living that party life.” Y/N joked.

“It’s alright. I’ve been told that I’m a bit intimidating before because I know what I want.” He smiled sheepishly. “But it is a waste if I'm not upfront with you, in my opinion. You deserve the respect of my honesty.” Harry lived in a world with businessmen being fake and he wasn’t one of them. He was straight up and it intimidated people because he would often say how he felt and if he felt someone was being a liar, he would say so openly. He opened deals with what he wanted. Full stop. But he found that's how he ended up being so successful. Even if it scared them, they appreciated the honesty. “I just needed to tell you first, before we hopefully dig into the fleshier bits. I’m interested in you, Y/N. If I hadn’t made that clear before.” He took her hand in his on the table and squeezed it. It was so small compared to his. “All I ask for is honesty in feelings. If you feel as though I’m asking too much or making you genuinely uncomfortable, please let me know.”

His hand taking hers surprised her but she relaxed, trying to calm herself and realize that this was a good thing. This was something she had wanted for so long! She had been thinking about him for a year nearly, why was she so damn scared? Y/N understood his sense of urgency, she just wasn’t used to men being so direct. That’s what she wanted wasn’t it? Why was she scared? Maybe it was a fear of commitment? She had done things on her own for so long, it was hard to think about giving in to a man sometimes.

“You’re not doing any of those things, I promise,” Y/N told him and rubbed her thumb over his hand. “I understand where you’re coming from and it isn’t so much you as it is me, a classic line, I know.” She shook her head and sighed. “I do like you Harry, but I am not one to rush. So I’m sorry if I seem a bit stiff, I don’t do well with being vulnerable.”

“Hey... that’s okay. There isn’t a rush. I just want there to be no lies. No hidden agendas.” He could understand why she was confused at his blunt nature. “A lot of men like to play games. I’ve found that those aren’t fun unless they’re in the bedroom. Being upfront is what has worked for me.” He shrugged simply. Like he didn’t just say something about the bedroom. He hadn’t had sex in like, 2 years. He used to have someone he hooked up with but that wasn’t happening anymore after she had gotten a bit too attached and Harry couldn’t see past sex with her. It wasn’t what he wanted. He was clear in the beginning. But Y/N, she was someone he could see being close to out of the bedroom and inside. He had his curiosities but wouldn’t ask them yet. To be polite. “Why do you suffer with vulnerability, if I may ask?”

Y/N wasn’t expecting him to be so upfront. No one really asked her these types of questions, especially men who were interested in her. It was a positive sign, a green flag as opposed to the many red ones she had seen in her past ventures of finding love.

“I haven’t exactly had the best experiences in the past with relationships, built up a skin of sorts. I just... need a bit to warm up is all.” It really had to do with trust at the end of the day. It was strange to have a man who was so open, she knew it wasn’t his fault that she had all these past patriarchal beliefs. It felt like he was too good to be true, she needed to get to know him better to know if he was being serious. She wanted to believe him and she would, that wouldn’t change the fact that she was a bit weary though.

“That’s alright. We can work on that.” Harry smiled. “I think there’s a reason that I’ve been thinking about you for a whole year, Y/N. There has to be.” He informed her of his thoughts. “You’re lovely. I think we could be a very beautiful couple in time. But I would like to date you. Take you out a few times, if that’s alright with you?” He knew that she was going to take a bit of work to get to trust him, but he figured it would be worth it all in the end if they ended up together. “What does your schedule look like?” He questioned. He wanted to get a feel on when they could have dates. He would plan very fun ones. Besides a coffee every so often but their first date would be fun. They could do something maybe a bit childish and let her guard go down so he could see more of how she truly is.

“Of course... um..” Y/N pulled away from his hand and went to get her phone out to open up her calendar app. It definitely was a little nerve wracking but Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. She was sitting here on this date just fine! He didn’t give her a weird vibe. He was just excited, as was she. In different ways, but excited nonetheless. “I’m available almost always because of my job, I sort of plan to do my work around my activities for the week so... if you would let me know in advance I could work something out most times.” Perks of being an influencer. Y/N made good money, took care of herself well. Hopefully, Harry could get her to come out of her shell a bit, and maybe she’d help mellow him out in a good way.

“Would you be open to going out tomorrow?” He questioned. “I work during the day most days but, I have the ability to take off if you’d rather do something during the day.” He was the boss and could do what he wanted, basically. If Y/N preferred to go out during the day then he would. But he could reserve a lane at the bowling alley he was thinking of bringing her to for tomorrow night. It was a Saturday night so it would be busy but he had a feeling it could get her to relax a little bit. He was hoping she would agree.

“Tomorrow?” Y/N asked and looked down at her schedule, “Um, yeah, tomorrow sounds good.” She said with a nod. She was excited and a little nervous. Y/N knew she should at least tell someone she was going on a date, for safety reasons, but maybe she’d just briefly mention it. She didn’t want to jinx anything. “Here..” Y/N spoke, handing him her phone so he could put in his name and number. “Text yourself so you get my number.” She smiled, deciding that finally after a year, it was appropriate that they finally got each other’s numbers.

----

Even though Harry had made the date sound lowkey, she still wanted to be properly prepared just in case things got... steamy. Y/N made sure her entire apartment was spotless and she had taken one of those long showers, she even made sure her sheets were fresh. What? It had been a while and he was hot… they’d had a whole year of anticipation, it could happen!

Harry texted Y/N for her address, wanting to pick her up. It was proper. Even though they truly weren’t that far apart, he wanted to be a gentleman. There weren’t many of them in this day and age and Harry was looking forward to showing Y/N that he could be one for her. He wore a simple outfit. A patterned button-up and leather jacket along with jeans. People would never expect he was a CEO but he liked to play with fashion sometimes. It was a fun pastime. Especially when brands were eager to send rich people their clothing apparently. He pulled outside of her house in the Range Rover today. It was a pretty basic car and he knew it wouldn’t be too flashy. He also brought extra socks just in case she didn’t, bowling barefoot was a no go. This bowling alley was 50’s themed, a drive out, about 25 minutes. He hoped she would be okay with that. He got out of the car with the flowers in hand. Daisies. He had chosen daisies for her. Roses would scare her a little, he thought, so this was a fun and memorable gesture.

Y/N was feeling super giddy as she buzzed Harry in, making sure all the final touches were complete. He wasn’t going to be in her place for long but, she wanted to be sure that everything was perfect. It was a bit of pressure she felt with him being that much older. Realistically she knew it was nothing to worry about, that he wasn’t really that old, but she was an only child, she struggled with that concept. Hearing the knock on the door she smiled, walking over and gasping a bit when she saw the flowers.

“Hi— are these?” She looked up at him and then back at the flowers as if she was unsure. Who else would they be for? “That’s so sweet.” Y/N cooed and waved him inside. She gave him a hug, heat rising to her cheeks at the kiss he pressed to it. “Let me put these in a vase and we can get going. I’ll be quick! Make yourself a home.”

“Hi love, ‘Course.” He has done well with the flowers. Harry felt like a lot of men her age didn’t bother with flowers or little gifts but it was something he wanted to do with his woman. “Your place is lovely.” It was. It was roomy and decorated beautifully. Clean but still looked lived in. That was something he couldn’t wait to acquire. He wanted this type of home. His home looked so sterile that even he felt uneasy sitting in the living room. She looked beautiful too. In her little outfit that was simple and yet; so classy on her. “You look beautiful as well.” He smiled when she approached him. “I love the look. I hope you’re okay with a different type of first date.” He smiled. Bowling and a pub after weren’t traditional.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” She worked really hard on decorating it after all. Y/N had found a pretty little vase for the flowers, making sure the water wasn’t too cold or hot before she set them on her kitchen counter where she’d see them the most often. “Thank you.” She hummed, “but no, I don’t mind. Anything works for me.” Y/N has been on so many shitty dates that at this point she was willing to take anything. Anything could top the time she went out to a steakhouse with a guy who ended up vomiting on her. Harry was already proving to be better than the others, but she hoped she wasn’t speaking too soon. She took his hand after locking the door behind her, following him on their way down to his car. “How was your day?” Y/N did want to know. These would be questions she’d ask on a daily basis. He relaxed slightly when she placed a hand on him. For some reason, her touch made him feel at ease. She was so easily able to make him react by touches and he wondered why that was.

“Was alright. Worked a lot. I was excited to see you, to be honest.” He admitted, squeezing her hand as they left the door. He had been so distracted, checking his phone every hour or so. It was odd for him. He wasn’t ever normally like this. She appealed to him so much. He opened the car door for her, holding her hand as she climbed in. Making sure she was settled, he closed the door and went to his side. God, he was excited. Not too nervous because he felt like they had been placed together for a reason. “The place is around 25 minutes away if you’d like to send a friend the location you can.” He was understanding that they could do that on the phone. He had never done it but he knew his niece did.

“What are you planning on kidnapping me?” She teased, but knew she was going to do it anyway. Not that she thought anything would go wrong, but just so her friends knew she was safe and sound for their own peace of mind.

“How was your day?” He questioned. Y/N was fun to listen to. Genuinely, he loved hearing what she had to say. Her voice was soothing and warm and she was good at keeping conversations going. That’s what made him relax further. It was almost time to arrive at their destination and he felt excitement in his stomach. He hoped she would appreciate the element of surprise. He knew it would be eating at him but she was easier on the questions and seemed to trust him on where they were going.

“My day? It was pretty average. Took some photos, tried out a new recipe for some raspberry swirl brownies. I have a bunch leftover, should have given you some to try.” Y/N pouted, “Maybe later though. When you drop me off.” She was already inviting him back? Maybe. Who knows, she assumed things would go well. Harry was extremely attractive, there was no denying it. If he kept treating her the way he was and if she had a few drinks in her she’d surely suggest more. Y/N wasn’t exactly the boldest unless she had some drinks in her, but even then she was pretty tame. Sexy wasn’t really her speciality, felt like she was pretty mellow and average. “Bowling?” Y/N asked with a smile, “did not take you for the bowling type.” She couldn’t believe this was where he was taking her. “Can’t wait to whoop your ass.” She giggled as she hopped out of the car, going to meet him around the front. Y/N took his hand and let him lead the two inside. This was great already. He was relieved when he saw the spring in her step. She was excited! He had done something right in guessing she would be a fan of this. Next date, he had something in mind already.

“Hi... reservation for Harry.” He smiled at the bored teenage clerk. He obviously wasn’t happy about working a Saturday and he could understand that. When asked his shoe size, Harry gave it to him before turning to his date. “What’s the shoe size for you, sweetheart?” He asked, letting go of her hand so he could grab the shoes and hand his card over. He loved that she was excited, leaning into him.

She’d changed into her shoes quite easily, slipping off her leather jacket and placing it to the side before pulling her hair up. “It’s game time.” Y/N teased, noticing how there was a little bottle of wine and snacks there as well. This was really cute and thoughtful. “I haven’t been bowling in ages, but I’m very competitive.” She warned him, “feel like we should place a little bet as well... make things more exciting.” Y/N knew it would be something silly and doable.

“Oh?” He raised a brow as he placed his jacket down on the chairs. He was curious to see what wager she would want to play with but he wouldn’t mind at all. Seeing as Y/N was an interesting little thing in general, he was hopeful to see what she would do. “What are you thinking of betting on? I am both concerned and curious, by the look on your face.” He had been planning on letting her win but it deepened now on the terms of the winning and losing bets. “I am quite good at bowling, little miss. So choose wisely.” He walked over to the little machine they could put their names into that kept score. “Lay it on me then.”

“If you win, you get to kiss me at the end of the game.... and if I win, then you get to kiss me at the end of the night.” Y/N felt like that was a perfect little wager. Regardless she was going to kiss him, but it was all a matter of when. She didn’t mind either way, but it would add some tension and of course she wanted to see just how badly he wanted to kiss her. Harry typed in their names setting his as simply H and hers as bunny. “Cute.” She giggled, looking at the different sizes of bowling balls they had and checking which best fit her fingers and brought two of them over to the machine. She went first, having had a lucky shot. She knocked nearly all the pins right away, her second shot managing to clear the whole set.

“Look at you!” He laughed, clapping at her little victory dance. She was good. Either way he was guaranteed a kiss so he was very happy-- however, was eager for it. He watched her skip back with a little tongue poking out to tease him. “Alright, alright. Champion bowler over here.” He grinned, putting the ball into his hands as it was his turn. Of course, he cleared all the pins the first try. For some reason, he was very good at bowling. Not at basketball or baseball. He was good at soccer and football but it varies. Harry laughed at her pout, moving about so she could go ahead and play her next round. She hadn’t asked where they were going after the bowling was done but he was excited. The whole night was going to be fun. Even now, he had a feeling it was going to be one of the best he’s had in a long time.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Y/N narrowed her eyes a little bit, getting up to go for her turn. This time she was determined to get a strike, focusing. She took a deep breath, doing a little meditation before winding up and letting it go. And she did it! Y/N turned around with a little giggle, flipping her hair over her shoulder even though it was pulled up. She had walked over to eat some of the snacks, taking a sip of the wine he had poured out for her. It was delicious. She was excited, this seemed like a very promising date already. Y/N did feel a little giddy every time he did well, but she wanted to try her best to beat him just for optimum teasing. Y/N had no idea there was a second part of the date, so she thought the end of the night would likely come a lot sooner. They were playing three rounds though, so surely they’d know who won by the end of it.

The thing is, he would have let her win. He really would have, but he wanted a kiss. Her teasing and poking her tongue out at him, their banter back and forth, it made him happy and he wanted to taste her. Her mouth was gorgeous. Lips plump and pretty, glossy. He wanted to kiss. It had been so long since he had a proper kiss, and he punched the air in victory once the final score showed he had won by 15 points. Y/N has scowled playfully, but he could see the blush on her cheeks. She was irritated about being kissed, and he loved that.

“Let’s go to the car.” He pulled his belongings back in his hold, their bowling shoes deposited back on the front bench as they walked towards the car. “I woooon.” He grinned, popping his things in the back seat and tucking the phone back into his pocket, not unlocking the front doors yet. He came in front of her, hooking a hand on her waist, the other on her jaw.

“Gonna let me have my prize?”

Y/N felt her heart rate pick up instantly, eyes wide as they scanned his own. She nodded her head with a small hum of agreement, leaning into his hand while she waited for his lips to lock on hers. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, desperate for him to finally just lean in and kiss her. This kiss was a whole year in the making, she knew there was no way it couldn’t be good.

“Good.” He didn’t wait, leaning in and taking what he wanted. It’s how he had been his whole life and he had no regrets, pressing his lips to hers. Immediately he knew he had made the right decision. His body was warm with delight, kissing her gently but having a firm grip on her. He didn’t know how far was too far but he knew she would hint at it. When she melted into his grip, his kiss became a bit deeper and pushed her farther up against the car door. Licking at her lower lip in an attempt of getting her to open a bit, he was pleased to hear a hum of approval come from her throat. A full kiss, Y/N was rewarding him with. Tasting sweet, he never wanted to stop. His body was electric at her touch, Feeling her lean into him and her tongue slick against his, he loved kissing her. It would be difficult now to go to sleep without replaying this.

It was definitely the best kiss she’d ever had. It was passionate and hot and exactly what she had needed after feeling so damn hopeless for so long. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, even her cunt was fluttering a bit with the way his tongue was moving against hers. Y/N had completely melted for him. Her hand had moved up to wrap around his wrist, her other moving to the back of his neck to keep him there. She really didn’t want him to move. It felt like the world had stopped moving and she was no longer thinking about their age gap or what was going to happen between them. All she was thinking about was how good he made her feel.

“Gotta stop, bunny. I’ll get too worked up and.. I’d like to be decent when we get to our next place.” He murmured. Her arms were still around his neck and he liked that, but she blinked at him in confusion. “You didn’t seriously think I was going to leave you hungry, Bunny? No. You’re getting food. There’s a nice pub I go to back in our area.” He chuckled. His thumb rubbed tenderly over her jawline, pecking her swollen lips. “Stole that one. But you can have some more after we get you fed. They’ve got a lovely chocolate lava cake as well.” He didn’t want to pull away but he was hopeful that this night wouldn’t end any time soon.

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

[part 2]

A/N: thank you so much for reading! we’re really excited about all the content we have lined up. We’ll be posting regularly so make sure to check out our masterlist and send us request for what you want to read next :) - n + d

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hanguk-berry · 2 years

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🧸 It’s been 1.5 years 🧸

Hello… I do not know where to start and what would be fitting to say. As some of you may have noticed, my last post is from the end of August 2020, during the midst of the p-word. I have opened this blog on multiple occasions since then and have contemplated posting something new, helping you staying motivated to strive towards a better version of yourselves by expanding and broadening your knowledge.

♡

The thing is, though, that every time I began to think about what to write, I found myself feeling drained and overwhelmed. My follower count was at 3100 and I had found such a sweet, supportive community on langblr — until the panini hit. My mental health deteriorated and I strove away from feeding my hunger for learning new things.

Additionally to that, it was my last year of high school; stressing about my graduation in this situation really sucked the last ounce of energy straight out of my bones. I stopped journaling, stopped learning Korean, stoppen writing essays, stopped dancing etc. etc. Instead, I fled to fantastic worlds and immersed myself in books.

At this point, I do not know where to pick up old habits again, because I feel that through all the events since the start of 2020, I forgot how to be myself. I lost so many passions along the way and lately, that has been hard on me and my health.

It is just the beginning of this year, 2022, that I began rediscovering myself through studying new things, picking up sports again (still a long way to go…) and so on.

As sad as this is, I must admit that I forgot what feels like 80% of the things I know (now ‚knew‘, I figure) about Korean. When I scrolled through my old blogposts yesterday morning, I felt some sort of spark ignited; I want to continue my Korean journey — yet it feels like I’m swimming in a vastly open sea with nothing to hold onto in sight. My perfectionism keeps me from admitting to you, that my posts might lack quality (?) as I have to refresh all the things I once learned. But honestly, I believe that is part of the journey which I am willing to take into account in order for myself to grow as an individual.

♡

This post is pretty lengthy so I want to thank you who read this all and I ask for your understanding, too. I will try my very best to be there for you, so that we can tackle this journey together.

I appreciate you all so much. 화이팅!

#i'm back y'all #korean language #korean #learning korean #studyblr #langblr #language study #hanguk #language learning #academia #한글 #한국어 배우기 #한국말 #한국어 공부하기

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glittertrail · 2 years

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92 TRUTHS TAG GAME

rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. at the end, choose 25 people to tag!

I was tagged by [redacted] 😬 (nope we ain't gonna tag this one folks this person stays in the 2018)

LAST…

[1] drink: chai tea

[2] phone call: this cousin

[3] text message: "i vote to meet for a merienda" (social event number 500)

[4] song you listened to: camaleón by belén aguilera bc of dres brainrot

[5] time you cried: yesterday after not crying for like... months

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] dated someone twice: ... not dated

[7] been cheated on: no

[8] kissed someone and regretted it: yes

[9] lost someone special: yes

[10] been depressed: yes

[11] gotten drunk and thrown up: yes

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS:

[12] turquoise

[13] pink

[14] burgundy

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

[15] made new friends: yes

[16] fallen out of love: you need to be in love first, so no

[17] laughed until you cried: i don't really do crying so not quite like that but i've been close a couple of times

[18] found out someone was talking about you: yes? that is what people often do (but not badly)

[19] met someone who changed you: not changed me but made me realize stuff about myself i guess

[20] found out who your true friends are: i guess

[21] kissed someone on your facebook list: nope

GENERAL…

[22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: most people, but I haven’t talked to some of them in years because i don't use fb

[23] do you have any pets: not right now

[24] do you want to change your name: not really i'm okay with my name but i do think my surname is dead boring (like the Spanish speaking equivalent of being named Smith)

[25] what did you do for your last birthday: hung out w different people on different days because global panini, but managed to have a gamer discord server party with everyone

[26] what time did you wake up: 7.00 a.m.

[27] what were you doing at midnight last night: bed, phone in hand, wasting time in this website

[28] name something you cannot wait for: the holidays to end, i don't do well in december

[29] when was the last time you saw your mother: irl? 2017, on ft? last week

[30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: so many things lmao but specially my depression and ed problems it feels a bit humiliating knowing i have to deal with them for the rest of my life

[31] what are you listening to right now: spanish pop songs

[32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yeah

[33] something that is getting on your nerves: December in general, there's just too much to do and too little time or desire to do it

[34] most visited website: tumblr

[35] elementary: okay? it gave me former gifted child syndrome and other traumas I've been working on in therapy but i don't want to talk about here

[36] high school: ... mostly okay, i was quiet but apparently popular (or so say @thelittleflowereater and @jessvzstuff) i'm still friends w quite a few people, i still had gifted child super powers i was terribly cold i wish i could simultaneously hit her and give her a hug

[37] college: done with (finally!) I moved continents for it, met a good chunk of my found family thanks to it

[38] hair colour: very, very dark brown

[39] long or short hair: medium-longish rn and itching for scissors

[40] do you have a crush on someone: yes

[41] what do you like about yourself? my ability to make people feel at ease

[42] piercings: 3 in each ear

[43] blood type: what are you a vampire? idk

[44] nickname: sa, satan, sandri, atenea (for writing stuff), that annoying tumblr bitch that won't shut up...

[45] relationship: single, because i live the found family trope and most of my needs for companionship/affection are met by friends i have zero boundaries with and the rest i can get out of hooking apps plus don't have the mental energy for an actual committed relationship 😬

[46] zodiac sign: aquarius

[47] pronouns: she/her

[48] fav tv show: the nanny, new girl, drag race, the good place

[49] tattoos: none

[50] right or left handed: right

FIRST…

[51] surgery: never

[52] piercing: ears when i was a baby

[53] best friend: the cousin i was on the phone with, i was born 4 months before her, she did not have a choice in the matter

[54] sport: basketball or kickball i'm not sure

[55] vacation: seaside

[56] pair of trainers: am I supposed to remember it? the first pair i remember wanting was ofc black high top converse bc basic bitch in the 00s

RIGHT NOW…

[57] eating: no but i should

[58] drinking: water

[59] i’m about to: get on the phone with people because december is the social calendar from hell and we have yet another party/reunion to schedule last minute (i am tired y'all)

[60] listening to: GASP more Spanish pop songs (tacones rojos my beloved)

[61] waiting for: inspiration for dinner it won't come i'm waiting for my dumb brain to decide what we have energy for bc i don't want to but i refuse to have to explain weight loss to my doctor

[62] want: to improve myself

[63] get married: go back to [45] (but also... no)

[64] career: not what i went to college for and that is all I'll say about it here💕

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: both, all of the affection

[66] lips or eyes: lips

[67] shorter or taller: don’t care

[68] older or younger: also don't care (but within reason)

[69] romantic or spontaneous: they don’t necessarily exclude one another but spontaneous

[70] nice arms or nice stomach: arms

[71] sensitive or loud: sensitive i'm already loud and overly rational

[72] hook up or relationship: depends on the person in question

[73] troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant, i am already troublesome enough

HAVE YOU EVER…

[74] kissed a stranger? yes

[75] drank hard liquor? yes

[76] lost glasses/contact lenses? no

[77] turned someone down? yes

[78] sex on first date? yes

[79] broken someone’s heart? allegedly

[80] had your own heart broken? allegedly

[81] been arrested? never

[82] cried when someone died? yes

[83] fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

[84] yourself? sometimes

[85] miracles? yes

[86] love at first sight? no

[87] santa claus? nope

[88] kiss on the first date? yes

[89] angels? ish?

OTHER…

[90] current best friend’s name: not one but many. Alessandra Pilu Tania and David

[91] eye colour: very, very dark brown, like the hair

[92] favourite movie: in the mood for love, moonrise kingdom, some like it hot

I tag whoever finished reading this thing bc it's long if you made it consider yourself tagged

#tag thingie #if you clicked the read more and are want to do it consider yourself tagged too #tw for discussion about food issues?#(not in depth and not at length but i think its easy to tell December is wearing me down)

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sevdrag · 3 years

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dreamwidth update: two weeks since the fall (and all i got was this lousy tshirt)

(content note: me still talking about my damn fall)

In some ways I already live disabled, so there hasn't been a lot of transition. Take meals, for example: because I live with fibro, I already know what frozen things to stock up on that take very little input or effort and provide a tangible delicious reward for putting them into the microwave. I'm always prepared for days that I can't find the fucks to actually make a meal, so the act of preparing for 3-4 weeks where I can't actually make a meal isn't that far from my regular life. Nothing odd there; I already eat a lot of paninis because sandwiches are dumb easy to make and putting a sammich into the panini maker improves its awesomeness by a factor of a lot.

Likewise, I already don't shower daily, because in the last few years my fibro has developed this fun game where there's a one in ten chance that the feeling of water on my skin is going to cause me to break out in painfully itchy hives that make me gruesomely uncomfortable for hours -- so using face and body wipes to stay fresh inbetween isn't that big of an adjustment.

However, not being able to fucking walk wellllll that's a big one

It's goddamned excruciating, the amount of effort it takes to go fill my water bottle, or make a cup of coffee, or even to go have a pee. Not only is it painful, but I'm at the point where I'm just irritable, so it becomes extra irritating on top of everything else. Now, granted, I'm doing a lot better than I was: I still can't walk, but I can stand for short periods of time if I'm braced on something for balance, and I can finally use my heels to help propel and direct the wheelchair, which makes that a bit easier. (Wheelchairing around when you can't use EITHER foot for ANYTHING is HARD WORK.) Getting up and down and moving from one surface to another is becoming more reliable. These are all good things!

But like. Sometimes the right one just aches no matter how I have positioned the boot, and I swear sometimes I can feel the break stitching itself back together, it hurts so much. It'll pulse with sharp jabs of pain and when it's doing that, lifting the foot at all to move the boot is like impossibly painful; I have to use my hands to do a lot of the work. And the left one is feeling better internally, but all the external bruising has finally come to the surface, so even the skin hurts and it's hard to get it comfortable no matter how I arrange it. I've been leaving it in the brace more than last week just as protection for the bruising; I'll probably put it into a compression sock this weekend.

As long as they don't have any bad news at my checkup next Wednesday I think I'm ready to get into those crutches, which I'm very eager to do. I'll have to find a backpack.

This week has been harder than last week. I'm hating the tedium more and just irritable about a lot of stuff. I haven't been able to translate pent-up energy into writing (except last night i guess) and haven't had a lot to distract me other than the Sims 4. I oscillate violently between wanting to do everything myself because I can and just wanting somebody to go make me a cup of coffee so I don't have to move. I drank a lot this week because it was better than sulking but that isn't a habit I really want to rely on during these shenanigans.

I do still at least have the wherewithal to do my paid writing jobs, which is good because I haven't seen the bill for the emergency room yet, but it's probably going to be massive.

comments Comment? https://ift.tt/3BzKstF

#crossposted #dreamwidth

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

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“Forget what I said,

It’s not what I meant

And I can’t take it back

I can’t unpack the baggage you left.”

- Falling, Harry Styles

A/N: the long anticipated third installment of “that angsty threesome story.” this shit hurted y’all. that’s all i’m gonna say. hope you enjoy :)

Sharing Isn’t Always Caring masterlist

word count: 13k

content: A N G S T, drunk sad!harry, melancholic relationship flashbacks, and Niall being an amazing friend. oh and lots of pining pain

preview:

“Y/N, I am so sorry.”

He really didn’t know what to expect on her part but he was willing to take anything she deemed fit. Screaming, yelling, cursing— anything. Anything was better than the suffocating silence that had been hanging over his head for what had felt like eons.

What he didn’t expect was the energy he received in response. It wasn’t brutal or enraged or bitter, it was just…hollow. It was tired and defeated, as if she’d spent hours combing through her feelings to the point of surrendered exhaustion. She held no spite or resentment, just a tone of flatlined renunciation and honest common sense.

“I know.”

The answer was curt and calm and for some reason, it packed a harder punch than anything he could’ve imagined. He would have rathered she tell him off and shout in his face and even slam things; at least then he would know she was still sorting through the ordeal and trying to come up with a resolution.

But this was way more difficult to stomach. If she had no screaming or crying left in her, it meant she had already come to her senses on the matter. It meant he had no wiggle room, no chance to change her mind, no way to win her back. It was cold and condemning; it felt like a death sentence.

or Harry and Y/N breakup after the incident and the next two months are the worst either of them have ever known

///

Two months and thirteen days.

That’s how long Harry and Y/N have been broken up.

It’s poetically ironic, if you ask him, and he felt like the universe was playing a cruel game at his expense. Though it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.

The length of time that had passed was coincidentally parallel to how much time he had spent sitting on his couch that dreaded Saturday morning— which had been two hours and thirteen minutes— wringing his hands, boiling in his regret, and waiting for her to come out of their bedroom with a verdict on their relationship.

When Y/N had finally surfaced from her hiding spot, she had barely acknowledged him other than a few one-worded, snipped answers to his questions. She was headed out, she’d said, and that she would return later. Her path had been straight for the front door and the body language and aura she had displayed from the frame of their room door to the frame of the front door had been enough to clearly communicate a simple message: Don’t come after me.

He had followed her to the edge of the corridor that led to the exit, but he knew better than to chase her once she was out of the door. He remained put and watched her walk out without so much as a glance back.

She needed time, he had assured himself. Y/N needed a chance to cool off on her own and smothering her would do nothing but dig him further into the hole he was already neck-deep in.

In hindsight, Harry should have gone after her. Maybe it would’ve made a difference, or maybe it wouldn’t have at all, but all he’s aware of now is that he’d never know.

The minute she got back, a few hours later when the sun had just finished dipping over the stretch of forest that extended beyond the balcony of their apartment, he could immediately tell he had to prepare for the worst.

From the second Harry had met Y/N, he had always been able to read her. It’s something he prided himself in and something he always admired about the connection they shared— that it had been instant. It had been one of those rare pockets in life when he met someone and clicked with them automatically, so effortlessly that it was almost fictional. He’d always been a hopeless romantic and he had his mother and sister to thank for that; growing up with two women who constantly fed him stories about true love and the importance of emotions had molded his relationships down to the very core. And through that characteristic, which had been engraved within the man he had grown into, was how he and Y/N so easily came to be.

Harry had been able to read the nervous excitement she was wading through on their first date, watching her with fond amusement as she had contemplated the menu, trying to pass as nonchalant but being betrayed by the obvious cinch in her brows.

He had been able to read the first time she had wanted him to kiss her, eyes absorbing her features like the pages of a novel. He had picked up on the metaphors she depicted in the form of wine-swollen lips twitching with longing anticipation. He had picked up on the similes that translated into her slowly dilating pupils, the glittering specks of color that shimmered in the depths of her irises dancing with anxious enthusiasm as his face drew closer to her’s. He had picked up on the analogies that painted themselves onto the warm, supple skin of her cheeks as he cupped the side of her face with the palm of his large hand, fingers tucking lose strands of hair behind her ear as he thumbed over the faint smile lines chesiling themselves into existence along the edges of her mouth, her action thick with enamored awe.

He had been able to read just how taken Y/N was with him the first time they had slept together. It was certain in how she had clung to the bare, sweaty muscles of his shoulders as her nails clawed memories along the soft sides of his torso, her head dangling over the edge of the kitchen island to allow him the intimate comfort of pressing hot, wet moans to the searing skin of her throat. He had whined and shuddered as he’d spread her open over the cold marble surface, fogging it with the heat of their conjoined bodies, the air tinged with the scent of desperate sex and blurbs of orgasm-drunken praises that to this day he can feel burn his lungs. Barely coherent mumbles of “God, been needing you for the longest time now.” and “Fuck, you’re an absolute dream.” and he had even made himself susceptible to some of his deepest vulnerabilities, confessing how quickly and dangerously he was falling for her in a breathless little whimper of, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Tiny zaps of invisible electricity had passed through her fingertips and into the flexing tendons of his back, revealing that she was just as scared and jittery and needy and absolutely whipped for him as he was for her. He had never been able to read her better than at that intense, emotion-packed moment, and he knows he’ll cherish that wordless instance of assurance for as long as he lives.

The only other occasion that competes is the first time Harry had known Y/N loved him. They had planned to go bar-hopping with their friends but, in a spur of laziness and utter disinterest, had decided to stay back. The night had been filled with board games and hot chocolate and half-burnt quesadillas because Harry had bought a new panini press that he didn’t quite yet know how to work. He knew she loved him when he beat her at CandyLand for the third time in a row and in a whirlwind of victory dancing, he had knocked the coffee table with his knee and ended up with cooled cocoa all over his striped pajama pants rather than in his belly.

He knew she loved him because she wasn’t upset that she’d have to help get the stain out and she wasn’t mad that he’d gotten marshmallow goo on the carpet and she wasn’t angry that his silliness had ended with her favorite vase rolling across the ground. All Y/N had been focused on was Harry and that ridiculous wide-toothed grin of his, her own lips nestling into an endeared smile as he giggled out of sheer shock at his ruined pants, clutching his stomach and throwing his head back against the couch cushions. Through teary, delight-blurred vision he saw her staring at him with this doe-like gaze, her eyes soft and glossier than he’d ever seen them, a tender laugh evident on her cheeks. Her eyebrows had been slightly furrowed with a type of disbelieving wonder at the utter moron she had chosen to share her heart with, but specifically at how she loved him all the more for it.

That’s when Harry had read that she loved him and she had confirmed it with words about ten minutes later as they both sat on their knees against the ground, scrubbing at the mess he’d made and sharing soft little snickers under their breath.

In the end, all of these milestone moments in their relationship had all funneled through his mind the minute Y/N had walked back into the living room on that forsaken day, hours later. They all sped past the inside of his eyelids every time he blinked, each one dissipating with each step she drew closer. She had stood before him as he sat forward tensely on the couch, forearms propped on his knees as he grasped his knuckles nervously, though they had stopped cracking ages ago.

It all flashed back to him like a film on fast-forward and it was because for the first time ever, he wasn’t able to read her face and it fucking terrified him.

Y/N’s eyes were the first factor that had given away the impending end. Even at the darkest of times, Harry could always count on Y/N’s eyes for support. They had always held a permanent admiring warmth towards him, even beneath clouds of rage or annoyance or worry. They had been empty that day.

Her lips had been etched into a emotionally-detached straight line, though the corners dipped down ever so slightly. Her eyebrows were void of any wrinkle, groove, or lifting that would suggest even a smidge of sensitivity and somehow her cheeks seemed more sunken in, as if the last couple of hours had aged her years.

Y/N had approached him with her hands cradling each other before her stomach, footsteps heavy against the carpeted ground, muffled yet somehow loud. She’d taken a seat before him on the glass coffee table, knees pressed together tightly and unintentionally brushing his as she settled her hands into the crease between her inner thighs, nails digging into her palms. Her shoulders hunched forward as if the weight of the world was using her back as shelf, the flyaway hairs that had fallen from her ponytail kissing along her jaw and caressing her temples almost apologetically, as if trying to comfort her for what was next.

Y/N hadn’t spoken a single word before Harry was already breaking down.

It wasn’t dramatic or spontaneous like the break-up scenes in the rom coms he often fancied; it was quiet and concise. The hot tears streamed down his cheekbones and followed the slope of his sharp jaw, squeezing out of his tear ducts and rolling along the bridge of his nose, itching the very tip, to which his instincts responded by spurring him into wiping away the water with the front of his shoulder.

Harry couldn’t bring himself to look up at her out of self-hatred and shame— how could he be as selfish as to cry when everything that was about to unfold had been solely of his doing. He knew he didn’t deserve the best outcome, but he had hoped for it. Prayed that she could find it in her tattered heart to grace him with the option to rebuild what he had so recklessly torn down. He didn’t deserve it and he’d felt like he never would, but he had promised himself he would try and earn it if she gave him the chance.

But that was just the hopeless romantic in him flaring up again. Reality was sharper and much icier.

Harry had taken in a deep, trembling inhale, feeling it cut his lungs and tug at the pit of his stomach. He’d released it in stuttery spurts through his nose, back muscles contracting with dread. He found it in himself to uncoil one of his index fingers, gently grazing the curve of Y/N’s right knee with the bed of his nail.

She’d tensed up momentarily, toes curling into the rug below her feet, but didn’t shed him away. It was the first time he’d touched her since last night and though it made her feel sick to her stomach, she figured she’d allow it as a parting gift.

The air stood still for a few elongated seconds that seemed to drag out for an eternity. Finally, one of them spoke up.

“Y/N...” Harry had choked on the singular word, swallowing thickly in an attempt to recuperate.

The syllables seemed to lodge in his throat, outright refusing to emerge, likely due to the fact that he spent the day soundlessly moping to himself. He forced them out anyways in a low croak.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.”

“I know.”

Harry had cleared his throat softly, mind treading through his jumbled thoughts to try and sew together a worthy sentence, the pad of his forefinger tracing down the visible threads of Y/N’s worn jeans.

“I didn’t mean any of it.”

Though it’s the truth, it sounds feeble and pathetic. His words had then started tumbling out of his mouth with no rhyme or rhythm but simply in an attempt to communicate his rawest emotions.

“That’s not an excuse or anything, but I just want to make sure that you know. And if I knew all of this was going to happen, I would’ve never brought it up in the first place. You’re important to me— I hope that all the time we’ve spent together shows that— and to lose you over something like this…” Harry pauses, choking up at the sheer notion of having to let her go. He continues his speech slowly to avoid another mishap, though it quivers nonetheless. “To lose you over something that was so stupid on my part would tear me to shreds, Y/N. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. There’s nothing I can do now except apologize until my voice gives out and pray that you give me the chance to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it and I know that the damage I’ve done could be beyond repair, but I also know that I will spend every second trying to mend it if you allow me to. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I know we’re young and that it sounds dramatic and I’ve been told a billion times over that I love too deeply for my own good but I don’t care because I know it’s the truth. Without even the slightest bit of doubt.”

His words had echoed across the walls of the flat, the dim buttery light of the single lamp in the living room casting their seated shadows over the creme surfaces. The dark silhouettes of their bodies seemed to absorb his message, picking it right out of the air and engulfing it into the ominous shade.

All that could be heard was Y/N’s faint breathing as she processed his confession and the occasional sniffle on his part. The silence stretched for exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds— Harry had counted. A frail distraction, but a distraction either way.

A deep inhale had cut off his mental stopwatch and he could tell Y/N had cried recently before arriving because the air had to force itself through her stuffy nose. His index finger had twitched anxiously against her knee. He found himself counting again, this time the target had been the thin lines of the rug beneath the reinforced glass of the coffee table. He hadn't known it then, but his urge to count whatever he could to pass the time had been the start of what would later develop into a coping mechanism.

“I don’t know what to say.”

It had only been a day but Harry had missed the sound of her voice more than he’d ever care to admit. She was talking to him rather than at him and it was enough to halt the fresh flood of tears that had been gathering across the glossy sheen of his irises. It was a victory, no matter how small.

The sentence she spoke, however, was a whole new battle he had to face within itself.

The words hurt, but luckily, they didn’t cut. There were dozens of harsher possibilities of what could’ve come out of her mouth and that makes him thankful for what he’d received.

Harry had shifted in his seat, pulling the sleeve of his old Greenbay Packers sweatshirt over his free hand and tucking his arm across his stomach. His other hand remained on Y/N’s leg as non-intrusively as possible. “Is there anything you want to get out? Anything at all? I want to hear it no matter how bad you think it is. I deserve it as much as you deserve to express your feelings.”

He hadn’t noticed when, but at some point he had absentmindedly tilted his head up to look at her. What brought it into clear attention was when she did the same and their eyes met.

Y/N’s expression had crushed the oxygen from Harry’s lungs.

He had hoped it would be different after everything he had said. That her eyes would hold some form of love within them, even if it was shrouded with sadness and disappointment. He had aimed to draw an ounce of forgiveness from her that he could cling onto and expand; he had aimed for redemption.

Instead, her eyes held the same barren gaze that she had doted when she had walked in— vacant acceptance.

Her own speech had confirmed his worst fears.

“I don’t know if we have a future together. All I know is that right now, I feel like I could never forgive you for what you did. Watching you treat someone you barely knew the way you treat me made me feel like what we have isn’t real. Sex can be something both meaningless and meaningful and the lines between those two is finer than most people think. And even though I know in my heart that you’re telling the truth about not feeling anything towards her, I just can’t let it go. I can’t. I can’t get over the fact that you called her what you call me. That you kissed, touched, and held her the same way you do me. You made her feel the same way you make me feel. And the whole time, I was sitting there watching you do it, begging you not to and trying to communicate to you that you were crossing the line and you didn’t even notice.”

Y/N had lifted her hand from her lap, running the back of her wrist across her cheeks messily. Harry could see the tears sparkling on her lashes and he felt like his chest cavity was going to collapse in on itself.

When she had spoken again, her voice was tight and packed with all of the pain she’d been holding onto since the incident happened.

“You took all of the private little things that had built our relationship and shared them with someone else just to get your dick wet.” She releases a short spurt of a laugh, miserable and humorless, her palms smacking down against her thighs as she shrugs her shoulders for emphasis. “Intimacy is the most important factor of genuine love and you went and tossed it around like it was nothing. We’ll never be able to regain that; not in the way we had it before. I don’t know if I could ever trust you with it again. I shared myself with you because I love you— we opened up to each other in that way because we worked up to it. And now that you so carelessly let yourself have it with someone else, I’m too disappointed and hurt and fucking terrified to let you see me vulnerable like that again.”

Y/N had locked her eyes with Harry’s and his heart had shattered into a million shards.

They had been swollen and bloodshot, tiny red veins webbing across the dull white, scraping at her irises and relentlessly chipping the color from them. There was no twinkle left whatsoever; the specks that normally decorated around her pupils had completely defused, disappearing into the murky sea of the muted shade behind them.

“You broke my fucking heart, Harry, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let you pick up the pieces.”

He had never heard her say his name like that, so dismal and void of emotion. He’d never felt more unworthy of love than at that moment and he knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind. He’d fucked up and now he had no choice but to marinate in it for the rest of his days.

The process of separating was painfully fast.

As it turns out, when she had left the morning after everything had happened, she had gone to visit Niall.

Niall had been the mutual friend that had introduced Harry and Y/N in the first place so, naturally, Y/N’s first instinct had been to seek his counsel. She had kept the details of the breakup to herself but from how distraught she had seemed when Niall had opened the door to his flat, his hair sticking up at weird angles and his eyes crusted over with sleep, he had known it was not on good terms. She had stood there with dried trails of tears staining her cheeks as her entire body shook like a leaf and the second he had opened his arms caringly, she immediately collapsed into them, violent sobs wracking her body unapologetically.

The Irish lad was as big-hearted and supportive as friends came and it was seen in how he offered her the spare room in his apartment that was normally occupied as a home gym.

“I haven’t had a roomie since I was twenty but as long as y’don’t leave your dirty underwear in the living room, I think we’ll get along just swell.”

With Niall’s help, Y/N had finished moving out by the end of that same week.

They did the brunt of the job while Harry was busy at work, though there was an awkward instance when he unexpectedly came home early on the last day of moving.

Luckily enough, Niall had been the one retrieving the last couple of items so Y/N was saved from the ordeal.

The two men had contemplated each other, Niall standing with the cardboard box tucked beneath his arm while Harry stood parallel to him stiffly, keys grasped tightly in his fist. Harry didn’t know how much Niall knew of what had happened, and he didn’t want to stick his foot in his mouth, so he had remained silent until the blue-eyed boy finally spoke up first.

“Mate, I don’t know what happened between you two or why, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this torn up before.”

Harry had sighed, partially in relief, but mostly in forlorn agreement at Niall’s comment. This was Y/N’s indirect way of telling him that the reason behind their breakup was meant to be kept a secret amongst their friend group. It was one last act of kindness towards him on her part because both of them knew that if word got out on what had happened, everyone would likely turn on Harry and shun him out. Y/N didn’t want that for him— despite everything, she found herself genuinely wishing him the best because she still loved him. A part of her always would, no matter how deeply she tried to bury it.

The last thing she needed was to cling onto bitterness and make him suffer; it would be counterproductive considering her end goal was to move on. The whole situation would stay hidden and hopefully everything would eventually blow over.

Avoiding each other proved trickier than expected in the beginning, but it gradually became routine amidst their everyday lives.

Y/N avoided grocery shopping at Harry’s favorite market and he proceeded to change the coffee shop he went to every morning before work, well aware that it was the one she fancied the most due to the specific brand of creamer they carried. Y/N insisted on the second closest movie theatre whenever she went out with her friends for a film, knowing that Harry liked the one closest to Niall’s apartment because it was smaller, more homey, and did free refills on popcorn and drinks. Harry started frequenting the gas station near the twenty-four hour gym instead of the one near Y/N’s place of work and started doing his early morning jogs at the park on the opposite side of town, which wasn’t too bad considering it was only about a ten minute drive. Y/N stopped going to art museums all together— they were mainly Harry’s thing, either way.

When it came down to their friends, they did the best they could. Whenever there would be a plan to go out for lunch, dinner, drinking, or any other event, they made sure to invite one and not the other, alternating turns. It kept the situation fair, though birthday parties were much more complicated. Staying on opposite ends of the club or flat would have to do.

No one ever questioned the breakup too thoroughly, thankfully. All Y/N told them was that it ended really badly and that what was best was that they stayed clear of each other. Harry stuck to whatever he learned Y/N had said, brushing off the occasional curiosity thrown his way with a tired, “I’d rather not talk about it, yeah?”

They were grateful to all of their friends for not pushing for details too much and respecting their privacy. Family members were harder to shake off, but both managed to keep things under wraps with the right amount of sternness.

///

Three weeks and four days had gone by, according to Harry’s calendar, and things were remaining seemingly civil. That is, until Harry had a bit too much to drink on the fifth day and ended up drunk calling Y/N as he sat on the floor of his kitchen, eating from what he was sure was an expired box of Cheerios while counting floor tiles and wondering why the fuck he even liked tequila in the first place.

The phone had rung three times and then the line abruptly cut off, sending Harry right to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N! Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone right now, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible!”

His eyes had immediately begun to water as her voice crackled through the speaker of his phone. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d heard it and he hates that he had almost forgotten its gentle trill. The bright chime of her words were so different than the last time he’d heard her speak— her tone was easy and good-natured rather than dismal and hurt and he missed when she would regard him that way. Now, it was directed at a random person on the other end of her phone line who she might not even know and for some reason, that made his stomach twist.

The Cheerios had started to taste funny so he opened the cabinet across from his spot on the ground and chucked them in the bin. He had then leaned back against the wall of the kitchen island, head repeatedly thunking against the polished hardwood as he redialed her number and waited, tiny hiccups plucking at his vocal chords and shuddering his shoulders without consent.

This time, it had rang only once before cutting off, meaning that she knew it was him and that she was actively delicining.

But Harry’s stubborn and insistent— which admittedly are some of his worst traits— and the fact that he had been shit-faced had fueled these characteristics. He’d continued to call her another four times before the line was finally picked up.

His voice had filled with enamored relief as he quickly sat up, a weak smile starting to spread his cracked lips. “Y/N, hi, I—”

“Harry, you gotta cut this shit out, man.”

It wasn’t Y/N. The person speaking had a much deeper voice with a smooth, raspy undercurrent covered in a heavy Irish accent. Their tone held a stern yet concerned edge.

“This isn’t good for either of you. You’ve got to try and move on, H.”

It was Niall and he was on Y/N’s phone and Harry could feel himself about to vomit.

He had forced himself to speak, clutching his stomach with one hand as if it would keep the bile from rising. His words came out slurred and numb, tongue feeling heavy and unbelievably large in his mouth. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s asleep and you should be, too. It’s three in the morning.”

Harry’s brows had cinched down angrily over his lashes. Somehow, in his muddled brain, he was able to form a coherent train of thought about the current situation. If Y/N was asleep, that meant her phone had probably been on a nightstand beside her bed or splayed across her duvet or even on the floor considering she had a habit of twisting and turning too much. If Niall had picked it up, it meant he had to be in close proximity to her. It meant he had been in her room, possibly in her bed...

Harry’s throat burned as acid rose from his stomach.

“I wanna talk to—”

He was cut off by the alcohol he’d had earlier resurfacing and splattering across the off-white kitchen tiles he’d been counting.

The spluttering noises filtered through the phone crystal clear, much to his friend’s disgust.

“Jesus, Harry, just get yourself together, will you?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line and then Niall’s voice had come through again, gentler and less annoyed. “Do you need me to come over and help?”

“No.” Harry had blurted out with panic evident in his demeanor. He’d wiped at his soiled mouth with the sleeve of his black Nike jumper, staring hollowly as the mess before him traveled across the cracks of his floor. An all too familiar swelling had started to fill his tear ducts. “No, I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Apparently, it had been the third time he’d drunk-called in the span of two weeks, though he didn’t remember the first two times. He did remember this third time though— the stench stuck to his sweatshirt for a while.

///

The next month that followed that cursed Friday night had been significantly better for Harry.

He went out with friends and actually had fun more times than not, as long as he didn’t let his mind wander to what Y/N could be doing since she wasn’t with the group. Slowly but surely, he began to mend.

The movies had always been his and Y/N’s favorite date idea so the first couple of times he’d gone out to see a film after the breakup had been tough, but he’d powered through the rough patches. Their favored seats at the very back of the cinema had gradually just become exactly that— seats. He was eventually able to enter a theatre without even as much as a glance to the last row. When Harry would go out to eat, he relearned not to order in excess anymore since he wouldn’t be needing those extra fries or two extra beef tacos or those couple buffalo wings she used to pick at religiously. Going out for drinks was easier on his wallet now that he could drink both of the two-for-one Happy Hour shots, the only issue being that sometimes he’d forget and order the next round while he had a perfectly untouched whiskey shot right there. He had sworn off tequila— he could still feel the way it had seared his throat, somehow manifesting an aftertaste of honeyed cereal.

Niall usually went out with the rest of the gang, but not as much as he used to and that bothered Harry extremely— bothered him to the point where he’d get the overwhelming urge to tear his hair out if he allowed himself to amble in his head too much. He hated being the jealous type, especially when he was no longer entitled to it. Especially not when Niall was such a nice best friend, willingly present for him on the nights where things went downhill and he needed someone to pick him off the ground— literally— and tell him that he would be alright.

The days Niall missed out were spent with Y/N and it wasn’t a secret. Harry had heard about how much closer they’d gotten recently through conversations that would happen across the other side of the booth, when his friends thought he wasn’t paying attention or that he was too sloshed to be properly present. He wasn’t, though. He was hyper-aware of every anecdote and syllable exchanged and it would make his mouth go sour.

One night, he had drummed up enough courage to ask Niall outright about Y/N. They’d been out bowling and the Irish brunette had been standing off to the side waiting his turn, sipping on a pint and cackling his ass off every time Adam rolled the ball into the sideline gutters.

Harry had been standing next to him for a while, leaning back against the machine that redispensed the bowling balls, taking tiny gulps of his third white rum margarita. The liquor filled his tummy with a certain type of empty warmth that numbed his better judgement and before he could talk himself out of it, the words were escaping his lips in a low, sheepish tone.

“How’s Y/N?”

Niall had paused mid-sip, his entire body going rigid for a second as he kept the rim of his large glass perched at his lips. He had then pulled back from his beer, licking the froth off his Cupid’s Bow and craning his neck to acknowledge the green-eyed boy directly.

“She’s doin’ good. Treading through the bills and tryin’ t’fill the rest with thrills, like we all do.”

Despite the light nature of his response, Niall’s accent had been heavier and Harry’s not sure if it was due to the alcohol or the tension-packed subject of conversation. Probably both.

Harry had nodded his head slowly— casually— and taken an ice cube into his mouth, cracking it with his teeth in the way Y/N used to scold him for. He had stared intently at the condensation gathering around the tips of his warm fingers for a few heartbeats before looking back up at Niall with aching curiosity.

“Is she happy?”

The Irish bloke had opened his mouth to answer, and then hesitated, thinking over what he had been about to say. That teeny fraction of time filled Harry with enough nerve-grating suspense to that he was sure he’d pop a blood vessel.

Niall had cleared his throat softly, sighing tiredly through his nose. “She’s better than she was right after the split.”

Harry hates that Y/N’s doing better. He knows how petty and selfish it comes off, but he can’t help it. If she’s doing better without him, it means she might never need him again— it means he’s replaceable to her. He can hardly fathom that thought without the backs of his eyes prickling.

Harry had swallowed thickly, nose stinging and jaw clenching. “Is she seeing anyone?”

Niall tilted his cup against his mouth, savoring the tanginess of the beer, grateful for its help in making this talk way easier. He’d given Harry a sympathetic slink of his head. “I don’t think that’s the type of question you should be asking, Har. One day, you might not like the answer you get.”

Harry’s fingers had tightened around the stout cylindrical glass in his grasp, rings biting into his skin. His voice came out strained but unwavering. “Is she?”

His friend’s blue eyes had flitted across different points of his face, sussing out Harry’s attitude and whether he could be convinced to back down on this specific topic.

When it was obvious he wouldn’t budge, Niall sighed heavily once again, this time through his lips. “She’s not, no.”

Harry can’t quite place a name to the flood of emotions that had crashed into him like a tidal wave. The closest he can relate the experience to is breaking the surface of an ocean of suffocating uninformed doubt, instead filling his lungs with illogical optimism and stunned relief.

There was hope for them, even if the sliver was fine as a hair.

Harry had found himself drawing closer to Niall, eyes doe-like and pleading, the neon lights of the bowling alley washing his face out with bright purples and drunken blues. “I wanna see her.”

“You can’t.” The objection had been quick and authoritative, causing Harry to blink as if he’d just been smacked between the eyes.

“Why?” It was a stupid question— he knew why. It wouldn’t be healthy for either of them.

“Because you’re only going to set yourself back. And even though you might not be thinking of the consequences it could have, I am, and I’m not going to let you hurt her or yourself more than you already have.”

And that’s when Harry realized that Niall knew. He’d heard the whole story.

The guilt-ridden young man had broken eye contact, looking down at his scuffed heeled boots. “You know.”

“She told me a while back.” Niall’s confirmation had hung across Harry’s shoulders like a lead jacket. “You fucked up, mate. Bad.”

A weak, remorseful, “I know.” was all he could muster.

“She knows you didn’t mean it, but I don’t know if you can come back from this, H.”

Harry repeated his previous phrase, but this time, it had been heavy with a form of undignified recognition. He was slowly coming to terms with the crushing possibility that he might never get her back.

He’d downed the last of his drink, feeling it reluctantly settle into his stomach. He had then locked gazes with Niall once again, his own conflicted and needy, which in turn caused his friend’s to mold into one of deep worry and pity.

“Will you just...Will you tell her that I love her so much. That I love her to the point where it’s pathetic. And that I’m so fucking sorry. That a day doesn’t go by when I don’t think of her and that I’d give fucking anything to earn her trust again...And that I found her Sherpa jumper under the bed and washed it in case she wants it back.”

Niall had snorted lightly, shaking his head in amusement at Harry’s ability to be so unintentionally pure even under the most stressful circumstances. He’d tossed an arm across the jade-eyed boy’s loaded shoulders, pulling him into a hug that was very obviously needed.

The reluctance had melted out of Harry in less than a breath, his arms wrapping around Niall’s torso, face pressing into the shorter man’s broad left shoulder. The tears he was holding back were evident in his quaking voice. “I miss her.”

Niall had remained silent for a while, not wanting to push any more boundaries.

He had made due with running his palm across the expanse of Harry’s back in soothing circles, only speaking up when he felt his mate’s tears seeping into his knitted sweater.

“You’re gonna be okay, yeah? You’re gonna get through this.”

Niall wasn’t entirely sure if his words were the truth. All he knew was that he wanted to be there for his best friend, so he comforted him to the best of his ability and prayed that whatever happened in the couple’s future would bring them closure.

Harry had gotten home that night feeling deflated and more regretful than ever. The emotional exhaustion had fused into his muscles and joints and he’d ended up collapsing on the couch, too depleted to take the walk down the corridor that led to his bedroom.

His sleep was restless and worthless, as it tended to be of late, but it beat having to sulk consciously. The pain was less sharp and his sorrows were covered in a hazy fog that somehow made everything bearable. He slept well into the afternoon and awoke with a mean kink in his neck and a dull thumping in the back of his skull— karma, obviously, for his lack of self-care and shitty drinking habits. Nothing coffee couldn’t fix.

///

As it turns out, Niall had struggled some to pass on Harry’s message to the intended party.

Y/N had been sitting on the couch when he’d gotten home from the bowling alley, snuggled cozily in a Friends blanket Niall had gotten last Christmas in a game of White Elephant. She had been so focused on an episode of Master Chef that she hadn’t even heard him unlock the door.

Y/N had momentarily glanced away from her show when she saw Niall enter the living room through her peripheral vision, watching as he toed off his rusty brown Clarks boots, kicking them into the corner beside the television stand. “How was bowling?”

“It was good! Mitch beat me by two points but, frankly, I think he cheated while I went to refill my pint.”

Y/N had scoffed in amusement, taking a sip of the chamomile tea in her Mickey Mouse mug, shaking her head distractedly. “Can you even cheat in bowling?”

Niall had shrugged his navy blue peacoat of his shoulders, draping it over the backrest of the worn recliner that was perpendicular to the couch she was currently inhabiting. He’d arched his eyebrows challengingly. “Obviously there has to be a way ‘cause I never lose. And especially never to Mitch and his shitty hand-eye coordination.”

Y/N had set down her mug in the small hole created by her crossed legs, the warmth of the drink radiating through the ceramic cup and seeping through her cloud-patterned pajama pants, heating her inner thighs soothingly. Her expression had then matched up to his, brows raised tauntingly. “Or maybe you were just off your game.”

Niall had slumped into the old recliner, sighing heavily as it creaked and extended. The Irish bloke had snuggled deeper into the cushioning of the seat, absentmindedly wiggling his toes in their rainbow polka-dotted socks before giving his housemate a pointed look. “Maybe you should shut up and go back to watching random people make squash noodles.”

“Actually, it’s eggplant ravioli.”

“Actually, that sounds like arse.”

A round of bubbly laughter had belted out of Y/N and it had been contagious, the same type of giggling escaping from Niall’s lips. Then, comfortable silence had fallen over the two as they centered their attention back onto the cooking show.

Niall hadn’t been sure how to approach the topic. There was no real proper segway into conversations about exes— he didn’t want to upset Y/N with the sudden intrusion on her healing process. But he had made a promise to Harry.

Aside from the obvious negative factors, mentioning him would also give Niall insight into how she was currently feeling about the entire situation. He’d be able to accurately gauge what her emotions had resolved on the matter and therefore be able to give Harry a solid response on whether he had any chance left for reconciliation. He’d be able to confidently tell him whether hanging on was worth it or if letting go was the best choice.

Though Niall and Y/N had been living together for almost two months, she hadn’t started opening up to him fully about the breakup until three weeks in. And even with the whole story laid out bare for him to examine, Y/N shared very little of her mending path with him until they were five weeks in. For a while, her version of “opening up” was simply telling him what had occurred and he’d had to fill in the rest of the mental and emotional blanks himself.

It had not been hard to come to the conclusion that she had been feeling like utter shit right after it happened— insecurity was awfully present as well as the haunting weight of thinking she wasn’t enough. Though Harry had put those worries to rest the day they had separated, they still lingered in her subconscious, constantly poking and prodding and picking at the membrane of recovery she had developed around her heart.

Y/N had felt numb for days after she had ended things. Boiling anger had created a buffer for the pain that was dwelling just under the surface and it had powered her for about three weeks. Then, at four in the morning on a random Thursday, her real emotions had burst through the fine cracks that had been webbing themselves into that unstable wall of rage.

She’d had a dream about him that was actually a memory. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the scene as it had been one of many alike— they had been cuddling on the couch. But for some reason, it cracked something inside her.

It had been scarily vivid to the point where she could feel the ridges of Harry’s finger pads tenderly passing over the skin of her exposed arm as she had laid between his legs, her head nestled into his strong chest, ear drums thumping with the sound of his relaxed heartbeat. She could feel his breathing, pectoral muscles rising and falling with penetrating inhales that had fallen into rhythm with her own. There had been faint movement above her and a sudden warmth had erupted across her forehead, his lips flushing caringly between her brows. The heated glow had washed down her temples and nose like syrup, vignetting her mind with a feathery, sleepy haze. It dripped over her tingling cheeks and buzzing ears, running down her neck and infusing into her chest, calming her from the inside out. He had whispered something unintelligible against her skin, his deep voice warbled as if he was talking underwater. Though she couldn’t make out what he was saying, the mellow, pleasant tone of his voice was enough to lull her. She had never felt happier, more fulfilled, and more at peace than at that moment.

Harry had always been the one factor that could drown out the static of her troubles with the simplest caress of his touch. He could make any problem sink away just by cupping her jaw and thumbing over her cheekbones. Could make the end of the world creak to a stop just by knitting his mouth to her’s. Could melt away any obstacle by brushing his palm over the dip of her spine. He had always been there, and at the time, it had felt like he always would be. Through that assured remedy of relief, she had been able to live her life one step at a time, bracing even the worst moments with a clear mind and strengthened energy, all because he stood behind her— with his warm hands and consoling aura— every inch of the way.

Y/N didn’t have that anymore and though she pushed it down and claimed it didn’t phase her, she was falling apart inside.

It was only a matter of time before it came rushing out all at once.

She had jerked awake from the dream as if she’d been stabbed, face wet with tears, her pillowcase dampened to the point where she would have to replace it. The breakdown that followed hadn’t included any screaming or slamming or stomping; it had been quiet and concise, much like Harry’s on the day she had left.

She’d laid on her side, wrapping her arms around herself and tucking her knees to her chest, drawing into her body as if it could keep all of her feelings from spilling out. Heavy tears had swelled her already bloodshot eyes, her entire face stinging as fresh sheens of water washed down the dried saltiness of the ones prior. Her nose had run so badly she’d had to resort to using an old t-shirt as a tissue. The sounds that had escaped her were low and broken— cracked, stuttery whimpers with no real words behind them. The noises were just another outlet for the aching to seep out; her eyes just weren’t enough.

Her back had hunched over as she constricted into herself even further, burying her face into her sopping pillow, feeling hot tears soak into the saturated fabric. She could barely breathe that way and it helped calm her down some— no air meant no sobbing. No sobbing meant she was on the way to picking the pieces back up to put herself together again.

It took her awhile to come to her bearings. Her body had stopped shaking but the tears didn’t seem to want to go away. It irritated her that she couldn’t control this— she hated not being able to do anything other than just drown in it.

Without meaning to, she had released a gut-wrenching growl of frustration that tapered off into another round of heart-breaking sobbing. Her stomach throbbed, the pain so deep it was almost palpable.

Y/N had hoped the pillow would muffle it enough not to wake Niall, unaware that he was already up. He’d awoken on his own, making a trip to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. He’d been sipping at it slowly, mind still stuck in a meaningless dream, when the sudden noise had echoed down the hall that led to Y/N’s room.

Niall rubbed at his tired eyes with the palms of his hands, irises grey with sleep. He had blinked a few times, downing the rest of his water and setting the glass down carefully onto the marble counter, trying to limit any sound interference as his ears strained to listen for any more crying. He had wanted to make sure he wasn’t imagining it in a half-unconscious stupor.

But no, it was very much real. If he focused enough, he could just barely hear the soft sobbing coming from his friend’s bedroom. He had a good guess on what it was about.

He’d stood still for a moment, mulling over what he should do. His first instinct had been to go in and comfort her, but with more thought, he wondered if it would be better not to meddle in her grieving out of respect for her privacy. He knows that if he were crying over a bad breakup, he’d want to be left alone. But he also knows that shouldering a burden like the one she’d faced could put anyone in a really dark place; he wasn’t just going to stand around and let her crash and burn.

Niall had wandered down the corridor attentively, footsteps light as to not startle Y/N. He’d turned to knob to the door with immense care, pushing it open with his shoulder and peeking in.

The crying had stopped abruptly, which gave away that she knew he was there. He couldn’t see much in the dark room— the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the curtains didn’t do much for the fact that he was lacking his glasses— but he could see the silhouette of Y/N’s body curled up under the duvet, trembling ever so slightly with the effort of keeping in her sobbing.

Her housemate had cleared his throat to get rid of the gravel in his dormant voice, as well as to fully alert her of his presence. His words had still come out in a raspy croak, but at least they were understandable. “You alright in here?”

Y/N had sniffled feverishly, desperate to put out a collected facade. She hated when people saw her so vulnerable without her anticipating it.

“Y-Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for checking in.”

Her voice had cracked near the end of her response, giving away that she wasn’t good at all. The air had been silent for a moment, then Niall’s muddled footsteps thudded against the thick carpet.

Y/N could feel him standing behind her, his body heat radiating off him like a furnace, the soft scent of his ocean-scented deodorant tickling her itching nose. “Are you sure?”

There had been no response other than the comforter tightening around her frame. Her hair was splayed across her face in a wild, matted mess, keeping him from being able to read her features.

Niall had sighed heavily and then the bed had dipped with his weight, sheets shifting and springs squeaking as he settled into place beside her, swinging his legs up onto the mattress.

More silence followed, Y/N refusing to budge. She hadn’t wanted to drag him into this considering he was still friends with Harry; she didn’t want to split him down the middle or force him to take care of her alongside her ex. She knew Niall too well, certain that he had been offering help to Harry, too. She’d heard him answer the array of drunken phone calls on her behalf so she wouldn’t have to deal with more trauma. She’d heard him leaving the house at unintelligible hours only to return smelling like Harry’s favorite vanilla cinnamon candle. She’d even found one of Harry’s t-shirts (which she had gotten him herself) in the laundry basket, which had probably been lent to Niall after an alcohol-related accident.

Niall was too kind for his own good— too caring. Y/N had learned a lot about him in the time they had lived together and the one characteristic that stood out more than anything was his savior complex— his default setting to provide love and assurance to anyone that needed it, no matter the stress it put on himself. She didn’t want to take unfair advantage of that.

Her friend’s voice had torn her out of her guilt trip, loaded with adamant concern. “Y/N, I’m not leaving this room until I know you’re genuinely better so stop being stubborn and let me help.”

She’d jerked suddenly when she felt his large hand coast up her back. His touch was gentle and nurturing, squeezing her shoulder expectantly. It wasn’t hard for her to let go into him.

Y/N had turned towards Niall, hand ducking out from beneath the duvet cocoon she’d swaddled herself in, moving her hair out of her splotchy face. Their eyes had locked and she’d immediately felt the remaining anguish flush out of her system.

The look on his face was so kind and protective and it made her feel safer than she had in the last couple of weeks. Even in the limited lighting, she could see his eyes were glossy with the genuine desire to help her heal, inviting her to share her problems with him, silently promising that they could shoulder the weight of it together. She didn’t have to fight this on her own.

Y/N had spent the rest of the night in Niall’s arms, crying into his chest and utterly drenching his Eagles t-shirt, though he didn’t complain once. He had kept his lips pressed to the top of her head, running his warm palm up and down her shuddering back and telling her that she shouldn’t bottle up her feelings— that it didn’t make her weak to show them, that openly sorting through them with someone else would make it less scary, and most importantly, that it was “okay not to be okay all the time.”

For the next month or so, Y/N and Niall’s heart-to-hearts had been a real breakthrough for her. All of her undealt fear and self-doubt no longer badgered her anymore— it was almost all gone. She hadn’t felt this emotionally liberated since before the split and she could feel the shards of her heart welding themselves back together, ushering her into a more healthy, serene state of mind. She was on the road to her old self again and the relief it brought was otherworldly.

It could be seen physically, too. The bags under her eyes had faded and her face carried a certain rejuvenated glow that it had lacked for weeks. Her smile and laughter were buoyant and loud again, not hindered by any inner conflict anymore whatsoever. When she went out with her friends, she didn’t find herself mentally checking out in the middle of conversations or movies or drinks like she had plenty of times before. She actively participated and engaged in events instead of just going through the motions and it felt so fucking good to get a taste of actual joy for the first time in so long. Things were looking up, and though she still had that hole in her chest that only Harry could fill, she was learning to deal with it in a beneficial and independent manner. It was okay not to be okay all the time.

///

All of these instances had scattered across Niall’s eyes, whirling around in his skull as he sat back in the old recliner, trying to decide if he should pass on Harry’s bowling alley message onto Y/N. He knew she was doing way better, but he didn’t know if hearing from Harry would break her all over again. He didn’t want that, but he also didn’t want the sheer sound of his name to send her into a self-destructive spiral for the rest of her life— she had to learn to cope with him being mentioned regularly because it was bound to start happening again. People couldn’t walk on eggshells around both of them forever.

And Niall also needed to know where she stood on her relationship to the British boy— whether she was willing to give it another shot or whether it was best to tell Harry to move on completely. They were adults, after all, so questions needed to be answered and ties needed to be either tightened or severed for good.

“Harry was there.”

“I know, Niall. That’s the reason I wasn’t.”

Her tone had taken him by surprise. It had been jokeful and amused, holding no obvious resentment he could detect. It’d been a good start to the Ex Talk, if Niall had ever seen one, as long as it didn’t turn into her using humor as a deflecting mechanism.

“He asked about you.”

Y/N’s hands had tightened around her mug, crossed legs shifting her weight. She had broken away from the television screen, meeting Niall’s cautiously hesitant gaze. Her eyes had held an emotion that he couldn’t quite place— it was mostly blank, but it held a smidge of something he could only think to refer to as pained curiosity.

When she’d spoken again, it had been soft and fragile. “What’d he say?”

Niall had leaned forward in his seat, elbows propping onto his parted knees as his fingers sifted together, chin resting on his knuckles. His voice had been as cautious and hesitant as the look in his sky blue irises. “He said to tell you that he misses you and that he’s terribly sorry. That he’d do anything to earn your trust again, that a day doesn’t go by that he doesn’t think about you, and that he loves you so much ‘to the point where it’s pathetic.’ His exact words.”

Y/N had been quiet for a while afterward, the TV droning on in the background with chefs running around kitchens, cursing about food burning and incorrect ingredients. Niall hadn’t pushed her on an answer; he’d simply sat back with his hands flat across his belly, allowing her all the time she needed to process the speech.

When she finally spoke up again, her voice had been taut, strained by the heaviness of the message she’d received. “Anything else?”

Niall had intentionally left the lightest part of the conversation for the end, hoping it would provide her with some form of ease, as minimal as it would be. “Yeah, he said you left your Sherpa jumper at his place and was wondering if you wanted it back. If I were you, I’d say yes. Fleece sweaters are fuck-you-in-the-arse expensive.”

His comment had the intended affect, his heart fluttering with relief as he watched Y/N’s face break into a huge grin, eyes crinkling as airy laughter bounced all around her. Some of the tension in her body remained, but most of it had dissipated out. A fraction is better than none.

Y/N had managed to talk through her giggles. “Yeah, I think I would like my sweater back, actually.”

“Great!” Niall had clapped his hands together once, head wobbling in a jerky shake for silly emphasis. He’d pushed his palms against the armrests of the recliner, catapulting himself onto his feet and pointing at Y/N playfully. “I’ll get that sorted for you, then. Now, if you need me, I’m gonna be in my room, passed out on my bed for the next twelve hours, neck-deep in a beer coma. Feel free to check if I’m breathing every now and then, yeah? Got a dentist appointment next week that I’d hate to be dead for.”

Y/N had sat on Harry’s words for the next week or so. They hadn’t spurred her into a meltdown (as she’s sure Niall had worried they would), but they did loiter in the back of her mind, keeping her awake past appropriate hours by playing her heart strings like a violin.

There was one part of the message specifically that took up a chunk of her sleep more than the others, scattering inside her head and running along the crevices of her brain, the meaning behind it stirring the pit of her stomach into a hollowed frenzy: I love you so much to the point where it’s pathetic.

That one measly sentence carried so much baggage to unpack.

Harry’s choice of words were transparent on how he was dealing in the aftermath of the split.

Y/N knew how much of a hopeless romantic he was— it had been obvious in the way he had put her on a pedestal for the entirety of their relationship, constantly showering her with all different types of affection to let her know how much he cherished her. It ranged from the simplest gestures— like keeping her favorite chocolates stocked inside the pantry at all times— to extravagant actions— like randomly buying her an expensive necklace she’d stared at for a bit too long at the mall. He was always aware of her, always going out of his way to show her how much he loved her, and she had never felt more appreciated than when she was with him.

When it came to expressing that love verbally, Harry only ever connected it to words that carried positive connotations. Words like, “truly,” “madly,” “deeply,” “immensely,” “entirely,” and “wholeheartedly.” He wanted her to know that when he thought of her, any negativity was immediately expelled from his mind; she could always make him happy, no matter what.

This being taken into consideration, one can understand why Y/N had been utterly baffled when Niall had told her that he’d referred to his love for her as “pathetic.” It gave her insight into just how hard he was taking the breakup— hard enough to the point where he was so desperate to get her back that he felt pathetic. This told her that he loved her so much he was willing to admit that it was sad and pitiful, especially since he was a grown man, and especially because they’d been split for just over two months. That span of time is long enough for a person to at least start moving on; long enough for someone to sever themselves from that stage of hopelessly clinging to what once was and to look forward to what the future could bring.

But instead, Harry had allowed himself to regress back into a lapse of needy pining, pleading with Niall— and in public, no less— to tell her that he missed her so much it was embarrassing; that he cared for her to the extent that it was humiliating; that he loved her to the point where it was miserable. He wanted her to know that what he had done had been tearing at him nonstop since it happened, that it would likely haunt him for years to come, and that he would never forgive himself for it.

All of these confessions weren’t any different than what he had told her the day they had broken up— they were the same bullets he’d hit when he was sitting before her, teary-eyed and distressed, begging her to give him another chance. However, for a reason unbeknownst to her, they penetrated deeper this time, slamming her square in the chest like someone had punched through her ribs, squeezing her heart with their fist.

Maybe it was the fact that she had finally let go of the splintering anger she’d been clutching onto from that day, which had likely blinded her from absorbing the rawness behind Harry’s apology. Maybe it was that she’d had weeks to work through all of her jumbled emotions, finally untangling herself from the bitterness that had been clouding her mind for what felt like ages. Maybe it was just the simple notion that she fucking missed him— missed him more than her pride would ever let her admit.

Missed the way his nose would scrunch up in distaste when he didn’t agree with something, the way the edges of his eyes would wrinkle when he smiled, missed his boyish giggling and how it would go up in pitch when he laughed too hard. She missed the way his dimples would carve into his cheeks when he smirked, the way the little mole under the left corner of his lips would jolt with the slightest motion of his mouth, and the way his large, warm hands would feel as he would knot their fingers together, his thumb caressing over the tops of her knuckles.

Y/N missed the way her head would sink into his chest when she would hug him, his arms cradling her against his body while he played with the ends of her hair. She missed the small group of freckles at the base of his neck— missed tracing them with her lips while he chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into spontaneous giggles at the feathery sensation. She missed the way he smelled, like mandarin shampoo and musky, spiced deodorant and his ocean salt cologne and that stupid fucking candle.

Y/N had remained on the fence for a few days about what to do, mentally jotting down the pros and cons of reaching out to Harry to make amends. The defining moment had been the day she’d gotten her sweater back.

///

Niall had gone out with Harry to see a movie, returning home with the Sherpa jumper hung across one of his forearms, tucked into his elbow. He’d held it out for her between his thumbs and index fingers, flapping it back and forth triumphantly, eyebrows arched with dramatic glee as a huge goofy grin buckled his cheeks. “Look at what we have here, then!”

He’d tossed it towards her on his way to the kitchen, belting out a cocky, “You’re welcome!” over his shoulder before disappearing behind the archway.

The minute Y/N had caught the hoodie in her arms, the scent hit her like a bus. It invaded her nostrils without permission, sending a sharp ache through her chest.

It was perfectly faint since Harry’s smell never tended to be overpowering— he had a very light hand when it came to cologne, well aware that too much could be agitating. That being said, the brand he used was potent even when dispensed in small amounts, so it’s salty sea aroma usually lasted through a couple of washes. He had probably nonchalantly chucked the jumper into the laundry with his clothes, which had resulted in the smell being strung through every single thread of the fabric.

Beneath the initial layer of his cologne laid the softer scent of the vanilla cinnamon candle that she knew too well. It was tender and homey, just the right ratio of sugar and spice, its cozy undercurrent enveloping her in familiarity.

It launched her into a round of fleeting flashbacks.

The fractions in time consisted of a winter day spent snuggled on the sofa under thick blankets, half-empty mugs of hot cocoa discarded on the coffee table and a Netflix show drawling on aimlessly in the background. Not a single soul had paid attention to the screen; Y/N was too busy straddling Harry’s lap, planting wet, sloppy kisses down his throat as he dangled his head over the side of the armrest, hands gripping her hips needily as she rocked against the bulge in his sweatpants, a dreamy, pleasure-drunken smile adorning his swollen lips. Low hisses and weak whimpers had resonated from deep in his chest, rolling off his tongue as his mouth had absentmindedly fallen open at the warmth growing between her thighs. Her fingers had twisted into the loose curls along the back of his skull while she’d gasped his name all breathy and whiney along the underside of his jaw, working herself against him at a desperate pace, his palms trailing underneath her pajama bottoms to grope at her ass.

Harry’s voice had been distant and echoey in the memory, but it made her cheeks sizzle nonetheless. “God, I love you so fucking much. Could spend the rest of my life between your thighs...Could spend the rest of it anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

Another flashback had shuffled forward like a deck of cards. This one was of a foggy, rainy evening spent napping soundly in their bed, limbs tangled messily with their bodies half-naked, her heated lips pressed to the lulled pulse that throbbed beneath Harry’s flushed neck. His hand had been petting over her mussed up hair, mouth pressed lovingly to the ridges between her brows, smoothing them out in order to defuse whatever was troubling her in her dreams.

She’d awoken, her eyelids heavy with the remnants of sleep, her mind partially conscious as she had taken in a long inhale, blowing it out through her nose. Harry had run the pad of his thumb over her lashes gently, helping her get rid of the blurriness that had taken her under. She had blinked up at him drowsily, a watery smile spreading her buzzing lips. Harry hadn’t said a single word and he didn’t have to— he’d just stared down at her over the tops of his lightly colored cheeks, the right edge of his mouth flicking upwards in endearment, his bright jade irises glossy with fondness. He didn’t have to say a single word because his expression silently told her everything she needed to know.

Y/N had snapped out of the memories in the blink of an eye, a sudden tickling sensation bristling down her cheeks. She’d reached up to touch her face in confusion, the tips of her fingers coming back wet, the water glinting cruelly under the dim lighting of the living room. Her brows had furrowed in objection, both at her tears and at being so abruptly yanked out of moments in her life when she had been the happiest. Her body reacted out of instinct, desperately searching for a trace of him to clasp onto, her hands fumbling to bring the flouncy material of the sweater to her nose.

She’d taken a saturated breath in, the pleasant odor hugging her trembling frame and kissing her heart. The tears had then started flowing freely across her waterline and down the bridge of her nose. They had seeped into the fleece hoodie and she’d immediately jerked back from it, not wanting the treasured item to suffer the same fate as most of her pillowcases. She didn’t want to do anything that would make her have to wash it— she refused to let the comforting aroma leave her.

Y/N spent the next three days in that jumper, only taking it off to shower. She wore it religiously, taking it to work, to the superstore when she went grocery shopping with Niall, to lunch with a friend, to a doctor's appointment she barely paid attention to, and even to bed. In the span of seventy-two hours, she had developed an addiction to the scent that was woven into the fluffy article of clothing, needing to have it around her at all times in order to function properly.

It was sad, really. It was just a smell and she knew it would eventually fade away, but she just couldn’t help herself from wanting to be wrapped in it every second of the day. It reminded her of a time in her life when everything seemed flawless— where there wasn’t a gaping hole in the center of her chest that could only be filled by the one person who had accidentally hurt her beyond compare.

Y/N couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the flood of memories that the stupid hoodie had fished out from the corner of her subconscious, where she had shoved them with the intent of never looking back. They loitered her dreams, broadcasting over the inside of her eyelids for hours on end, dissolving away when her alarm blared beside her ear, leaving her with a hollow feeling toiling at the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know how long she could deal with it, but her sanity was starting to wear thin, cautioning her that she had to do something or else she’d go absolutely mad.

On the night of the fourth day, Y/N finally cracked.

///

Two months and thirteen days.

That’s how long Harry and Y/N have been broken up.

It is currently 11:43 PM, meaning that in a meer seventeen minutes, it would be two months and fourteen days since the split.

Harry is laying in bed, as far away from his digital clock as possible, watching a random Christmas movie that Netflix had recommended, one hand buried in a bowl of kettle corn that he’d already refilled twice as the other holds his phone an acceptable distance above his face.

The movie is cliche, if he’s being honest; something about Santa Claus dying and passing on the torch to his dead-beat son that didn’t want it, so it ended up going to his overly-perky younger sister instead. The twist was supposed to be that a woman had never been Santa Claus, but he could see that ending coming from a mile away, what with her natural ability to get along with kids and the fact that she dressed like a literal Elf on the Shelf. It’s heart-warming in the way that all Christmas films are and it had the witty humor one would expect it to, alongside a cute furry animal sidekick that people couldn’t help falling in love with.

But it just didn’t really impress him. The message is sweet, the execution could’ve been better.

Yet, he only deemed it fair that he finish the movie. He’s already three-fourths of the way done and though the intended surprise was obvious, he might as well see it through.

In the middle of the climax scene where the young woman was putting on the Santa suit for the first time, his phone dings with a chime he hadn’t heard in too long— two months, thirteen days, twenty-three hours, and forty-four minutes, to be exact.

Harry had been so startled he’d dropped his phone on his face.

“Ow! Fucking hell!”

He sits up in one quick, stiff motion, the hand knuckle-deep in the popcorn bowl flying up and knocking the dish upside down, the sticky kernels rolling across his disheveled duvet. The sleek black device falls into his lap, nose pulsing in pain as it had taken most of the heat, his caramel-coated hand rubbing messily along his flannel pajama pants to try and get rid of the stickiness. He then pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger to stifle some of the stinging, bumbling to get his smartphone into the palm of his clean hand.

The screen lights up with a text message and Harry blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it in some type of pain-induced hallucination.

But no, the message is very much real and it’s authenticity sends him into a dull stupor for a minute. He comes back to when the phone vibrates with another ring, alerting him for the second and last time that the person he wanted to talk to the most had actually reached out to him; it was in his best interest not to keep her waiting.

Y/N: Hey, are you free to talk tomorrow?

#siac #Sharing Isn’t Always Caring #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles angst #angst #harry styles fic #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb

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byakurendawn · 4 years

Photo

UPDATE! [UnderMemory: Concept-art and reference of Memory!Sans] OFFICIAL

\!/(NDLA : I updated the official Memory reference again because the first version didn't suit me at all . but now I'm more than happy with the rendering and it shouldn't change normally.)\!/ Memory!Sans is the Guardian of the Memorysphère, the equivalent of the “Brain of the Sphere” (which has another name, that of Core Hyppocampe) where all the memory of the Multiverses that compose it are located. Just as Ink is nicknamed the Artist, Memory's is known as "The Archivist", for preserving the memories and history of all that exists across the Sphere, which he protects.

Memory is amnesiac, he has no memories of his past since his awakening in the newly born Core Hyppocampe.( Or Memorysphere) However he has great powers. Memory controls, memories, whether of a world or an individual. It is more closely linked to the collective memories of the Sans who exist in the Multiverses and therefore to whom the control of memory is the easiest. His job is simple, protecting the MemorySphere and the memories of the Multiverse and its inhabitants. Even after the destruction of a universe or a Multiverse, its memory codes are still preserved in the MemorySphere, which means that even destroyed, the world is not questioning is not for many lost, try that its memory is preserved . So that’s the role of Memory preserving them, and protecting from any corruption where those who wish to use these sources of information has a bad end. Memory can be seen as a sort of “Outcode” .. a bit like Ink and Error. But we are not sure because he has no memory of his past… It also leaves its MemorySphere to study the memory codes that make up an Au and make sure that it has not been corrupted or “hacked”. But the main reason for his exit was to fight the Corrupt, beings of DETERMINATION and LOVE to be created by the Corruption and who are under the orders of Nil, his sworn enemy and nemesis. The corrupted are memories submerged and infected by LOVE and the energy of Corruption which has only one goal, to destroy the memory codes of the multiverse in order to erase everything.

Update Informations :

Name : Memory or Sans

Nickname : The Archivist, the White ghost , dad or daddy (by crys) , Memory

Age : 25 (outwardly) -(actual age)??????

Birthday : ???

Zodiac sign : Cancer

Gender : Male.

Parents : ???

Species : Monster skeleton

Fact : Memory is an Out code, like Ink and Error. He can therefore travel freely through AUs and even multiverses. Because of his amnesia, he takes his job of keeping memories very seriously. He is the creator of Crystal! Frisk but prefers to nickname Crys so as not to confuse it with the frisk of Crystal! Tale. They have more of a "father-daughter" relationship, he calls this my daugther "rather than his creation and his assistant." He is nicknamed the Archivist, for his great knowledge and his work of conserving the history of worlds and memories. He has a salesman's hobby, where he owns small stalls throughout the different AUs, where he sells sculptures and mirrors that he designs. When a universe dies, Memory leaves the Memorysphere to recover the remaining memory of it in order to put it in the shelter.As memory is very sensitive to emotions, he often keeps a certain distance with people, therefore he is quite "bad" on the interpersonal side and can even be a little shy.

Its gaster blaster is of a diamond constitution and its shape is very reminiscent of that of an arctic fox, the Isatis. just like the head of Memory's scepter, Lethe.

His coat is made of his own magic, the drapery that constitutes it is therefore attached to his emotions and moves very often, so they are rarely at rest, and continues to move, like fox tails.

He has other powers like Altering the “reality”. call Reality Alteration. An ability to create a Zone or a space from “memories” composing a real or physique world. However, although the zone could be identical in every way to the real world of which it was created, whatever is happening inside it, it does not impact the real world. He is able to control the memories and the memories of the Worlds or the living, reading in their past as in an open book and feel the emotions they have to go through at these moments, as if they were his, in order to better understand their history and personality and thus not judge their actions personally.

This often gives him a look detach or cold with other people who crosses his path, while it is in reality much more sensitive than it lets appear. His distance from others means that the closer he is to a living being, the more clearly he feels his emotions and, above all, his feelings of past experience. In doing so, he suffers much more when they are negative but as time goes by, he learned to resist the “feelings” and “emotions” of memories, even if he remains quite distant from others.Lethe, his scepter, allows him to extract a memories or even the memory of an individual or even an AU. Because he considers that preserving stability is important, he rarely intervenes in the course of events of the AU or Multiverse, except for the fact that his enemy, Nil, is always involved.

Magic color : water green and lightseagreen

Soul : COMPASSION (Crystallized)

Favorite Food : Cheese Panini and Mint Syrup.

Battle systeme :

Due to the fact that Memory! Sans is a peaceful monster, he prefers defense to attack and he cannot kill his opponent, he can however neutralize this one.

HP: ???

ATK: ???

DEF: ???

Main weapon : The remembrance crystalized. He uses Lethe, a mysterious entity that can take the form of a combat stick, whose head comes off, hanging on an endless chain. the drapery of his jacket is also an excellent weapon of self-defense because the ends can crystallize and become sharp and hard weapons like diamonds.

Regular magic and weapon: The remembrance crystalized. Memories which he brings to life in the form of a crystal statue that he manipulates, Restrictive Glass Chains which blocks and those all magic, Gaster blasters which, by their power of reflection, absorb the offensive magical energy and release it. 'energy to absorb on the opponent (they are more defensive than offensive). He creates bones from crystal and glasses. He has no blue magic, his restrictive Chains replace this power.

Immune system:

Memory is a being made up of memories, as long as there are any, so it cannot die, it is immortal.

You can destroy your body in a thousand pieces, it will regenerate by absorbing the surrounding memories, (crystallizing is the most appropriate meaning) it only takes a long time (it all depends on the severity of the injury). But he is extremely sensitive to positive emotion and negative memories, so he is more vulnerable to mental attacks which are both his strength but also his weakness.

Memory sans belong to me,Byakuren-dawn (@byakurenblog / @undermemory)

Sans undertale by Toby Fox @fwugradiation Artwork by me (Byakuren-dawn) and color by (@draniae-blog)

#undermemory #artwork official #memory!sans reference official #update #memory!sans #my art

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lunar-jimin · 4 years

Text

i am my mother’s child, i’ll love you til my breathing stops i’ll love you til you call the cops on me

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: smut, tiny little glimpse of fluff, a lot of angst, stalker!reader, ex!namjoon

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, softdom!namjoon (kinda), sub!reader (also kinda), quickie in a bathroom, lots of feelings, generally sad ones, this is fairly depressing, reader is stalker, so there’s that, also she has drunk sex with a stranger, but she propositions him so

Summary: It was your obsession with your job that drove him away. It’s your obsession with him that drives you.

↳ moodboard ↳ playlist ↳ series m.list ↳ m.list

The world outside your window was dyed in the murky blue of four in the morning. You didn’t notice. Your eyes were glued to the glaring screen in front of you, begging for your undivided attention. Instead of working like you should be, you’re creeping through your ex’s Instagram page, desperate to know every minute detail of his life after you. The couple staring back at you from the screen made your stomach twist itself into knots. You had known he would move on, find someone to love him better than you could, but you never thought this would happen in a million years.

Engaged? Really? They had only been dating for a year, only a year and a half since he had left you, but sure enough, the giant diamond on her ring finger spoke for itself. Jealousy tore through you. You knew you didn’t deserve his affection, but that hadn't stopped you from holding on to the small glimmer of hope that one day you would find a way to be together again.

Despite it all, you had long ago admitted to yourself that she was a much better match for him. Your mutual friends would often regale you with their complaints of how clingy they were, how much they loved each other. The pictures of them that filled your feed testified to this. She made sure the world knew how much she loved him. A twinge of regret sparked in you when you thought of your own Instagram page, bare of any images of the two of you. You were never one for shoving your relationship into other people’s faces.

Your eyes flicked from the post to the clock in the corner of your screen and you groaned inside at the prospect of getting only two hours of sleep. Turning back to your computer, you noticed the tired burn in your eyes and the lethargy that spread throughout your limbs. With the last bit of energy you could muster, you drug yourself out of your way-too-comfy computer chair and into your welcoming bed. You fell asleep before you made it under the covers, still in your jeans.

The next thing you knew, your alarm was blaring out some loud pop song you had picked a long time ago and never bothered to change, uncouthly interrupting your precious slumber. Sitting you, you already began to feel the consequences of too little sleep: today was going to be a long one. You silently swore to yourself that you were going to fix your sleep schedule, before managing to drag yourself out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. The warm water from your shower did little to wake you up, but it did sooth your tense muscles. A half an hour later, you were at the bus stop, apple in hand, trying valiantly to keep your eyes open.

Your morning passed quietly. Somehow words appeared on your screen, despite the fact that you didn’t recall typing them. You had never been more grateful for your lunch break in all your life. You wearily made the slow trek to the cafe three blocks down from your office. All you could think of was the toasty panini and cup of coffee calling your name. The apple you had gulped down for breakfast wasn’t doing much for you anymore.

The cafe cheerily greeted you with the smell of espresso and a warmth that comforted your bones. You had been coming here since you began your career as a journalist for the newspaper. You swore they made the best sandwiches in this hemisphere, and the shy barista, Jungkook, never failed to make you smile with one of his cheeky stories from college.

You quickly ordered before taking your usual spot by the window. You had only been sitting for three minutes when your day went from bad to terrible. You blinked twice when you saw him. You were sure it was an illusion, your lack of sleep finally taking its toll on your mental health. You close your eyes and count to ten, praying that he would be gone when you opened them again.

There was now way it was coincidence that he was here. There was no way that he could possibly have come to the same cafe you had been a patron at for five years by accident. There was no way.

You froze in place. You internally debated if you should get his attention. A large part of you wanted to leave before he saw you, have Jungkook sneak you out the back, but a small part of you wanted to run to him, take him in your arms, and promise to love him right. Instead, you sat there like a deer in headlights, letting fate take its course.

You hated that he looked better than the last days of your relationship. He had found his style again and he had cut his hair. He looked healthier, and you knew from your midnight ventures on his Instagram account that he had started to workout. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew deep down that the toxicity of your relationship had been detrimental to his well-being.

The guilt was eating you up, when he turned to look at you. If you were frozen before, you were solid ice now: muscles locked up, eyes open wide. You gulped slowly, praying to whatever god was out there to make you invisible. Unfortunately, the gods weren’t having it today, and he gave you a quick wave and a smile before turning back to the menu.

You prayed that would be the entirety of your interaction, but five minutes you looked up from the phone you were taking refuge in, to find him walking towards your table.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

His voice was deeper than you recalled

"Uh, yeah, sure."

You looked out the window in a desperate attempt to avoid conversation and eye-contact.

"How are you?"

You managed to look up at him.

"I'm fine."

You hoped that he wouldn’t see through the lie. You hoped he wouldn’t see the dark circles under your eyes and realize you still weren’t getting enough. You hoped he wouldn’t see the stain on your shirt and realize that you still couldn’t find the time to do basic chores. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn’t realize that you were just as addicted to work as when he left you. That you were still failing at being a person.

"That's good."

You gave a small smile.

"How 'bout you?"

"Pretty good."

He grinned. You guessed he was thinking about his engagement but was hesitant to bring it up in your presence.

"Good."

You took a sip of your coffee and looked out the window again, uncomfortable down to the soles of your feet.

"I, uh, have some big news that, uh, I wanted to share with you."

Maybe not so hesitant, and not here by accident. You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm, uh, engaged."

The sheepishness that poured over his face was almost adorable.

"Oh."

You were silent for a moment.

"Congrats then."

Behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of disappointment, as if some suppressed sadistic part of him wanted you to be hurt. You were glad that you came off as unbothered, even though your heart ached every time you thought of that stupid engagement post.

"I love her."

He was desperate. You were surprised. Namjoon was never petty, yet here he was trying to make you jealous. Had you really hurt him so badly?

"I would hope so."

You looked back out the window.

"She's really amazing. She cooks for me and goes on trips and she’s even going to quit her job to take care of our kids."

It would have hurt, if the chauvinistic ideals behind it hadn’t made you roll your eyes. But the point was still there: she was actively loving him, taking care of him, showing him that she wanted a future with him. That stung.

"Okay."

He looked at the window, resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to get a rise out of you. He should've known. You had never been very expressive of your emotions.

"I would have married you."

That made you flinch. A spark of delight ignited in his eye. Asshole.

"Okay."

"I loved you."

"I know."

"Did you love me?"

"I don't know."

A lie. You had loved him to the moon and back. Hell, you still loved him. But you wanted to hurt him just a little bit for making you sit through this torture.

"Oh."

A blow to his ego. If he wanted to parry, he best have come prepared.

"Have a good day then."

"Okay."

With that he left, without even bothering to pick up his order.

Before you knew what you were doing, you followed him out the door. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you knew you were no longer in control of your being. You followed him one block after another, making sure you were far enough behind him that he wouldn’t notice you. You weren’t sure what you were seeking. Closure perhaps.

Soon, you found yourself standing outside a familiar, red, brick building. During your relationship, Namjoon had moved in with you, but still rented his apartment. In the beginning, you had stayed the night a few times. The apartment was small, but the view was to die for. You missed it.

He was already inside, but you knew which window was his. You stared up at it for a couple minutes, before something snapped inside you and you realized what you were doing. You felt nauseous, but that was quickly forgotten when you noticed the time. Panic shot through you, as you began to run back to the office. You could only hope that your boss wouldn’t notice your extended lunch break.

At first, it was a rare occurrence. Ever so often you would find yourself standing in front of those red bricks staring up at that window. Nothing would ever happen. You would just stare, part of you hoping to catch a glimpse of him and another part of you dreading the idea of ever seeing him again.

As your addiction to your job continued to consume you, it became a more frequent occurrence. Once a month turned to twice and then to once a week. Your mental health slowly deteriorated, until you were at risk of losing it completely. Somewhere in that time, you managed to pull yourself enough to end up at a shitty dive bar in the heart of the city with the few friends you had managed to keep. You weren’t that close to them. You doubt they knew your middle name or your birthday, but they were company you didn’t get much of that these days.

The beginning of your evening was spent slowly downing alcohol and catching up about the dullness of each of your existences. You spat out lies, hiding the fact that all your life was anymore was work and stalking your ex. You put on a front. You had other friends. You had been on dates but nothing had worked out yet. You had started dieting and working out. Lies, lies, lies.

Somewhere around your third beer, the fragile illusion you had created for yourself, came crashing down. You were well aware that these girls were friends with Namjoon and that they had undoubtedly received an invitation to his wedding, but while they were relatively sober they had been kind enough not to remind you. Now, however, their blood-alcohol levels were through the roof and as a consequence, they began to discuss the details of the wedding.

At some point, someone asked you what you were going to wear to the event. You stared at her dumbly before she realized what a stupid question it was and turned back to whoever she was talking to. You hadn't received an invitation to the wedding but a small part of you was glad. You didn’t really want the reminder, and you wouldn’t go anyway, you weren't that masochistic.

Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. There was a part of you that did want to go. A part of you that daydreamed of standing up in front of the entire church and begging him not to marry her. Begging him to come home with you. Begging him to love you again. But it was a stupid fantasy, and not one you should indulge in.

Lisa, the only person there who you really gave two shits about, turned to you and began to talk about your job again. When you let it slip that you had ran into Namjoon at lunch awhile ago, she looked like a little kid on Christmas. With her filter gone, she began to pester you with questions. Then she lit up.

“I have an idea.”

You internally groaned. Lisa was famous for her drunk ideas and none of them were ever good.

“You should come with me to the wedding as my plus one.”

Your eyes went wide.

“Lisa, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. You can get all dressed up and make him see what he’s missin’.”

It did sound tempting.

“Okay.”

You didn’t sound very sure, but Lisa was too drunk to care. She squealed before giving you a quick side hug and turning to talk to someone else. As the gravity of the situation hit you, you found yourself longing to forget everything. You threw back two shots of tequila before marching out onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for some random stranger to come grind up on you, but you were too drunk and upset to care. In fact, feeling someone touch your body again was somewhat soothing. It didn't take long for your lips to find his and it didn't take much for you to convince him to come home with you.

You barely noticed saying goodbye to you friends as he dragged you out the door and into the back of an uber. You barely remembered anything else until you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a strange man in your bed.

It was the first time you had really seen him, too inebriated the night before to really notice his features. You didn't want to admit how similar they were. It was the dimples that gave it away. Even drunk, you still seemed to have a type.

He was adorable, lying there, so unaware of the rest of the world. It reminded you of your first date with Namjoon. While he began the night full of energy, he ended it passed out with his head in your lap.

5 Years Ago

You met him through mutual friends. He asked you out at a party and you still remember the red tinge on his cheeks to this day. You had developed a crush and you were delighted to oblige him.

Namjoon was a very simple man, and you didn't expect much more out of your date. Just dinner and a movie. However, he obviously wanted to impress you when he drove out of the city and to a beautiful flower field overlooking it. Halfway into your picnic dinner, he sheepishly confessed to having no cooking skills and that his best friend Jin had prepared your dinner. But that didn't matter, because for what Namjoon lacked in the culinary arts, he made up for with his mind. Namjoon blew you away with the shear capacity of his brain. He was obviously a nervous talker, and so you sat in awe as he spilt facts about whatever subject you were talking about.

"How do you know so much?"

"I don't know that much."

You gave him a look.

He sighed.

"I don't know, I just do. I consume information and I never really forget it. Most people find it annoying. At least that's what Jin tells me."

"It's adorable."

You both blushed.

"Thanks."

He looked sheepishly at his lap.

"So are you."

"What?"

You looked up at him confused.

"You're adorable too."

You're cheeks blazed scarlet.

When you mustered the courage to look at him, he was staring at your lips. His eyes quickly flitted back to yours when he noticed you looking at him. He coughed uncomfortably.

You weren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself tentatively placing your hand on his thigh. You looked at him nervously, while trying to muster the confidence to close the gap between you.

Luckily, you didn't need to. One second you were staring at his lips, the next they were on yours. You were happy to find that they were just as soft and plush as they looked. He moved rhythmically, and you prayed to god that you were as good of a kisser as he was.

Then the rain started. It was just a drizzle at first, but by the time you had packed up the picnic, it had begun to pour. You dashed to the car, soaked to the bone. When Namjoon pulled up to your apartment building, you invited him in to dry off. While his clothes were in the dryer, you started a movie, some cheesy rom-com. You weren't even thirty minutes in, when Namjoon fell asleep in your lap while you played with his hair.

The memory faded and instead of Namjoon, you found the mystery man whose name you didn't know. You woke him gently, offered him some coffee- which he declined- before sending him on his way. You weren't trying to be rude, but the longer you looked at him, the longer you were reminded of Joon, and you only had a limited capacity for heartache.

This time you didn't even bother to change out of sweats and a t-shirt. You must have looked like a mess as you rode the bus to the red-brick building. You were smart enough to bring a coffee and a book so that you had something to occupy yourself, as you sat on the bench across the street. You didn’t even look at the window anymore, just being this close to him was enough to satisfy your weird urge.

You had been sitting for an hour before he appeared. He didn't even glance your way. Your nerves twittered, praying that he wouldn’t see you. You quickly stored your book and coffee in your tote, before following him down the streets.

He led you downtown. You were always jealous of how close his apartment was to the hub of the city. The cars whizzed by you as you followed him down a boulevard of shops. Your heart stopped as you watched him walk into the jewelers. It made sense: he was getting married, rings were involved, but somehow this made it more real. He was investing thousands of dollars in this woman. He was investing his life.

The fact that it was the jewelers that you had visited back when you thought you were going to get married only made it worse. Your heart began to beat faster. Was he going to give her your ring?

3 Years Ago

"Which one do you like?"

You looked over the case carefully inspecting each ring for flaws. After five minutes, you pointed at a sapphire and diamond ring near the back. It was relatively simple, but that’s what drew you to it.

He smiled.

"Well, someday, when you're Mrs. Kim, that ring will be around your finger."

You grinned and lifted up to meet his lips.

"I love you."

"I love you more, Joonie."

"I seriously doubt that."

You giggled and followed him out the door for lunch.

As soon as he came out of the shop, you rushed in. You went straight for the case that you knew had held your precious band. It took you a minute to spot it, but when you did, you felt relief flood your body. It was still there, he wasn't forsaking you for her.

As the relief washed over you, you began to connect to reality again. You realized what you were doing. With it came the nausea. Coming back to reality was always painful. You hadn't deemed yourself a stalker yet, even know though you knew you should. The self-hatred followed you home, up the stairs and through your apartment door.

You didn't mean to follow him. Somehow, the part of you that still loved him (which was a larger part of you than you cared to admit), had gained the ability to control your actions, while the logical part of you sat in the backseat screaming. The shame continued to throb inside you as you curled up on your couch. You knew you needed to stop but you didn't know how.

You didn't and as the months passed you found yourself following him whenever you had spare time. You were careful, staying a good distance behind him. If he had noticed you, he didn't let you know. He seemed blissfully unaware. The worst part was that as you followed him, you began to realize he was truly happy: something you hadn't witnessed since the early days of your relationship.

At some point, you started bringing your camera along. You weren't sure how the pictures of him ended up on your camera roll, and then pinned to your bedroom wall. You would lay in bed at night, touching yourself with one hand, while another tightly grasped a photo of him.

In the morning, you would be so sick with yourself, you would vomit in the toilet. Three months passed like this before his dreaded wedding day arrived. The sane part of you didn't want to go, but the creepy, deviant part of you had more control, and thus you found yourself in front of the mirror in a simple sundress.

Lisa had attempted to convince you to wear a skimpy number in order to make Namjoon jealous, but you knew that Namjoon always found you sexier when you looked innocent. You had often teased him about it. So you settled for a simple floral piece and some kitten pumps.

When you walked into the venue you felt another twinge of jealousy at the grandeur. The church was old and gorgeous and you felt like a sinner just by existing in it. You sat in the back. Your nerves kept you calm enough to decide you didn't need Namjoon knowing about your presence just yet.

You blacked out for most of the ceremony. It was only when Lisa waved her hand in front of you that you realized that instead of witnessing the union of 'man and wife', you were busy daydreaming about said 'man' taking you in front of the whole church.

You stared out the window of Lisa's care wistfully as she drove to the reception. When you started to tear up, she pulled over in a park parking lot.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

You almost pulled it over, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

"Sis, if you don't wanna go, we don't have too. We can just head to my apartment, order Chinese food, binge Netflix, and do facemasks."

It sounded so, so tempting, but you know you needed to make it through it. You needed to prove to the part of yourself that was going insane, that you didn't need him anymore.

You thought back to the day you came home from work to find his bags packed in the living room. You thought about the tears that streamed down your face as you tried, and failed, to convince him to stay, that you loved him more than your job.

He cried too, pulling you into a hug, the last one you would ever have. You remember how his chest, which was usually so strong and comforting, trembled against yours. How you weren't sure if the wet warmth on your cheek was from him or from you.

You must have stood like that for thirty minutes, before he pulled away, gave you a last kiss, grabbed his bags and left. It wasn't until later that evening that you discovered his letter.

My Love,

I don't want to do this, but I am no longer happy. We are no longer happy. There isn't much left to us in all reality. I love you to the moon and back, but I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for you to come home from work. I know it's important to you and I would never ask you to leave it, but I have a life to live too.

You made me so happy for such a long time, but you are a writer in the dark. You stay up all night on your computer and leave me with a cold empty bed. When I wake in the morning, you're gone. I can't stay in a relationship that barely exists.

Someday, when you feel like you can put your job aside for a family, call me. I'll be here because I love you. I love you so much, it makes it hard to breathe. Be happy for me.

Love,

Namjoon

And so here you were, in a passenger seat on the way to his wedding reception. Just a girl with a broken heart and a broken promise. You needed to go. You needed to see him. Confront him.

"Drive."

You sat through dinner, barely touching the food on your plate. You listened to your friends chatter away and make snarky comments through all the speeches. When the dancing started, you were hesitant to move, but Lisa dragged you to the edge of the dance floor and forced you to witness the first dance.

You spent most of it staring at the floor nursing a martini that was almost straight gin. You finally looked up at the end of the song, some cheesy pop shit you knew Namjoon loved, and locked eyes with him. His hand was delicately placed over her waste and you secretly wondered how many hours of practice it took for him to be able to dance to this song. The waltz was never his forte.

His stare never left you and as soon as the song was over, he whispered in her ear before walking straight at you. You drowned your drink quickly, praying the alcohol would be enough to get you through whatever was coming. He grabbed your arm without saying a word and dragged you out of the ballroom and into the nearest bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

His voice was harsh, but there was a touch of tenderness to it.

"Lisa made me come. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me."

"Bullshit!"

You raised an eyebrow at his retort, signaling that you knew he knew you were lying, but you weren't going to tell him the truth.

"I just can't deal with seeing you right now. Do you know what you being here is doing to me?"

You felt a spark of anger go off inside you. He had an issue with being here? That's swell and all, but he was the one who broke up with you. He was getting married, you being here should be nothing more than a footnote.

"I don't care, Namjoon, I don't care if you're hurt or not. I don't care if it's ruining your big day. You leaving ruined my life. I have spent the last year and a half dying because you're not in my bed when I wake up in the morning. And I know that I fucked up and that I needed to be there for you, but you left me without giving me the chance to change! You. Left. Me."

Somewhere in the middle of ranting, hot tears had begun to fall down your cheek and you were once again thankful that you had splurged on waterproof makeup.

"Don't act like such a victim. At least I know that the woman I'm marrying actually loves me."

His words fanned your little spark into a full blown flame and you raised your hand to slap him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. You looked to his face expecting to see anger, but instead, his eyes showed a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"I'm sorry." He said.

Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft as you had remembered them. Shock ran through your body and you froze as he continued to kiss you slowly. When he realized you weren't responding, he pulled away, a faint blush apparent on his cheeks.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you found his lips again. You immediately felt his body relax against yours as his arm snaked around your waste to pull you closer. A bittersweet feeling floated through you as you relished in his taste again. You hadn't realized how much you missed kissing him, how comforting he was.

Somewhere deep inside you was yelling that this was an illusion. That at some point he would have to leave the bathroom and go back to his new wife who would love him and give him children and grow old with him.But you squashed the voice, desperate to live in the moment. Desperate to believe that just for this time, he was yours. That you were his new wife, that you were going to have beautiful children and that in sixty years, you would be two old people stupidly in love.

The kissing quickly became messy and desperate. You unabashedly moaned to his mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in his tongue. Your arms were wrapped around his neck in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible, as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He pulled away from you and looked you in the eyes.

"You always look so beautiful."

The comment was quiet and under his breath, but you heard him nonetheless, and warmth crept onto your cheek. Before you could respond, he picked you up and set you on the sink counter.

You welcomed him, as he stepped between your legs, returning his lips to yours. As his lips moved down your neck, his hand traced its way up your thigh, slowly moving your dress up your leg. You moaned as he began to trace circled in your inner thigh, feeling your underwear soaking through.

"Dear god, Joonie," you whine,"don't tease me."

The nickname slipped out without your awareness, but you noticed him pause subtly at the sound of it before returning to his ministrations. His lips returned to yours as he shifted your panties to the side and used his pointer finger to tease your clit.

You whined out at the sudden pleasure, legs tightening on his waist, trying to bring him closer. Trying to bring him home. When he slips a finger inside you, you throw your head back against the mirror. Your eyes squeeze shut, attention completely focused on the digit inside you.

Despite the time that had passed, he hadn't forgotten how to make you see white. With the exception of the man you had dragged back from the bar, you hadn’t been laid in forever, and as a result, you were incredibly sensitive. Right when he was about to tip you over the edge with no more than a finger, he pulled back, lust clouding his eyes, finger soaked.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

You whined at the old nickname, clenching your thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve the ache between your thighs. Namjoon's hand drifted to the front of his slacks to massage the tent that had formed in them, while admiring your fucked out form slouched on the hotel bathroom sink.

"Answer my question baby."

A yes slips out of you and he grins like the devil.

"Look, at you, such a dirty girl, all fucked out in a public bathroom, desperate for me to fuck her."

Nothing had changed. He was still the tease who manipulated your body until you experienced cloud nine. And you were his good girl who obeyed every command, desperate to please.

You dipped your fingers into yourself in an attempt to stretch your pussy open for him, while he slowly dragged down his zipper, and pulled his cock out through the fly. Your memory served you well, but he still seemed bigger than you remembered. The tip was flushed red and dripping pre-cum. For a split second you were worried about him staining his slacks, before dashing your concern away to the depths of your consciousness.

You knew you should, but you felt no guilt for what you were about to do. As far as you were concerned, this was Namjoon’s mistake, not your’s. Sure, there was a beautiful bride dancing in the ballroom, and sure, she didn’t deserve this, but no matter what the certificate said, Namjoon would always be yours.

The realization hit you, as he kissed you again, moaning into your mouth as he rubbed the tip of his cock against you. There would always be a part of him that would belong to you. There would always be a part of his heart, no matter how small, that loved you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here, now, about to fuck you in the small, but beautiful bathroom, at his own wedding reception.

The notion made you feel powerful. Your hand quickly replaced his, and you gave him a few quick strokes before lining him up. You both moaned as his tip pressed into you. When he was fully inside, you couldn’t help but feel complete. Months of emptiness completely forgotten as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in.

“Fuck, baby, I forgot how tight you were.”

Tears pricked in your eyes as he began to pick up pace, moving faster and faster. Despite trying hard to pretend like this moment could last forever, you knew that she would notice him missing soon, and that this moment was doomed to end. You squeezed your eye’s shut, tried to focus on the feeling of him drilling in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for his pace to become unsteady. You opened your eyes to find him staring at your face. You couldn’t read the look on his face, but it carried a strangely familiar emotion. It wasn’t until he reached down to rub quick circles on your clit that you realized what it was: love The realization had you coming around his cock. You screamed silently, tears finally falling down your face. He was close behind, burying his head in your neck as he filled you up one last time.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet. They were words that weren’t meant to be said out loud. They were words that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But they were the truth, and the truth deserved to be spoken.

“I love you too. I always will.”

You looked him in the eyes, while he softened inside you. There was a silent acknowledgement between you. An acknowledgement that neither of you wanted to admit. That you would never be together. That it would never work. That he was married.

So, while remaining completely silent, he slipped out of you, tucked himself into his slacks, fixed his hair and left. You sat there for minutes, tears rolling down your cheek. Finally, you gained enough energy to pull yourself off the sink, shift your panties back into place and walk back out into the world.

You quickly went to your table, grabbed your purse, and said goodbye to Lisa. If she smelled the sex, she didn’t say anything. When you were at the door, you looked back for half a second. He was dancing with her, laughing at something she said. He looked happy, and you prayed to God that he was.

That night you sat down at your computer and began to write your grand, tragic love story.

__________________

seven years later

You laughed as you walked out into the chill autumn air. Hoseok had that effect on you. Always had. He had just treated you to a wonderful celebration dinner in honor of your first best selling book, a novel about a woman unable to let go of her former love.

As you were about to leave your daughter tugged on his hand informing Hoseok of her need to go to the bathroom. Your husband gave you a quick kiss, before taking the four year old back inside. You stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the air and admiring the city lights, reflecting on how you got there.

A month after Namjoon’s wedding, you met Hoseok in a coffee shop you were writing at. You had hit it off pretty quickly, and two years later you were married. Your daughter, Marie, followed soon after. A month ago, your novel was finally published for the world. And so here you were, celebrating with the family that you loved so much.

“Hi.”

You looked up, startled.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, “what are you doing here?”

“I was, uh, going for a walk.”

Your gazed washed over him, and you noted that he didn’t look too good. His hair was long and unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, and his usual impeccable sense of style was thrown away for some sweats and a hoodie.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help the concern that painted your face.

“I’ve been better.”

He gave you a sad smile.

“Oh?”

“We’re going through a rough patch. I think she wants to get a divorce.”

“Oh.”

At one point, those words would've made your year, but that part of you had died a long time ago.

“Maybe we could go out for a cup of coff-”

His words stopped when he saw the diamond and sapphire ring on your finger.

“Oh.”

His face fell. It was then that Hoseok decided to grace the two of you with his presence. Namjoon quickly looked from you, to Hoseok, to your daughter, as he slowly began to put the picture together. He looked pained. You knew the look, the look of loss.

“Who’s this?”

Hoseok’s voice was cheery and you were once again grateful for your husband’s consistant happiness.

“An old friend. You take Marie to the car, and I’ll catch up with you in a sec.”

He nodded, happy to oblige. When he was out of earshot, you turned back to Namjoon.

“You were supposed to call.”

You stared blankly at him.

“What?” you finally ask.

“You were supposed to call when you were ready to have a family.”

You looked at him in shock.

“Namjoon, you got married.”

“I know, but I would’ve left her for you.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not. I still love you. And you still love me. You promised me you would forever.”

“Well, it was a naive promise to make.”

He looked like he was about to cry.

“Look, Joon, go home. I know you loved your wife, and I’m willing to guess you still do. Relationships take work, you know that. You’ve alwayknown that. Show her that she means the world to you. Whatever’s going on, you can make it through it. Whatever part of you still loves me, kill it.”

He nods

“I have to go. But call me when you’re in a better spot, okay?”

You hand him a business card, before walking away into the night.

A month later, you get a text.

“We made it work. Coffee on Wednesday?”

You smiled.

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