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carrionbeast · 3 years

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Part 1 of my @daredevilexchange Daredevil + Defender Exchange Piece for @hehearse! Part 2

Also available on Ao3 once the collection is revealed! Prompt used: talking about lost opportunities, lost chances

Image IDs are on Ao3, separately in chapter 2 and also under the cut!

[Image description: 6 images containing 11 Daredevil fan comic pages and 1 cover

Cover:

Daredevil is written in the bright red, tilted lettering of the classic logo. In the upper left corner is a box with a black outline, split in two. The top half is a red box with white lettering, reading DDE, mimicking the marvel logo should be and under it, in a white box, is the number 1 in black lettering. Under these two boxes is the name of the author and artist, Neon Brutalism.

The cover features a large empty hourglass, tilted towards the upper left of the page. Trapped in the bottom of the hourglass, we see Daredevil and Foggy. The glass is too small for the both of them and they’re tangled in each other’s limbs. Matt’s sitting with his knees bent, uncomfortably on his tailbone. The toes of Matt’s boots are pressed up to the glass and his hands are pushing up against it above him and to his side, the red fabric of the gloves lighter where it’s tight against the curved glass. He’s blushing under his mask, tilting his head away from Foggy. Foggy, dressed in a suit with bow tie, with his legs up in the air, has one hand between Matt’s boots and one above his head, against the glass. The bottoms of Foggy’s shoes are up against the glass, right leg across Matt’s lap and his left leg behind Matt’s back. Foggy is also looking away from Matt and blushing deeply.

At the bottom of the page, the title, “The Glass of Sand and Fog” is written in white lettering with a thick black outline. /end image description]

[Image Description: Interior cover:

No art but text in the center that reads:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Marvel. The original characters and plot are the property of the creator of this story. The author and artist is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

In the lower left corner of the page, more text, that reads:

“For Heherse, Daredevil and Defenders Exchange 2021” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 1

Panel 1 - Inside a warehouse. The moon glows through the warehouse’s glass-block windows, casting a sharp light on the room. The camera is pointed up at the villain, a thin, short-haired man, half-hidden in shadow. His right eye is obscured by a large monocle and he has a triumphant expression on his face. He is standing on top of a giant clock with a large battle-axe replacing the hour-hand. The axe-hand is pointing to the number twelve in roman numerals. The man is dressed in high-waisted riding pants with suspenders and an old fashioned button-up shirt. In his left hand, he holds a staff with a small hourglass on the top.

The Villain: “Don’t worry, Mr. Nelson! You still have one more hour for Daredevil to come save your miserable life! But beware, the Axe of Time may be the end of you both!”

A speech balloon coming from below the panel’s edge.

Off Camera Voice: “What the hell is the axe of time?”

Panel 2 - The camera pulls out to reveal the full shape of the clock. It stands solitary on a short platform in an empty warehouse. The villain leans over the clock to glare downwards with an offended expression.

Sitting on the platform, positioned at the 6 on the clock, under the axe, is Foggy. He’s wearing a bowtie and a slightly rumpled suit. His hair is parted in the center and slightly messy. His hands are bound together at the wrist and his feet at the ankles but he does not seem very distressed.

The Villain: “Well, not all of us can afford the giant hourglass needed for a sands of time trap.”

Foggy: “It’s just really thematically confusing.”

Panel 3 - Medium zoom in on the villain. The camera right side of his face is hidden in shadow and his grin is toothy and threatening.

The Villain: “You should be more worried about your dear friend Daredevil -”

Panel 4 - Same zoom. The villain is confused and raises a single eyebrow.

The Villain: “Wait. Friend? Associate? Client? I’m unclear on the nature of your relationship.”

Panel 5 - Medium zoom in on Foggy’s face. He rests his chin on his bound-together hands and stares forward in resignation.

Foggy: “Yeah, you and me both.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 2

Panel 1 - Pulling back into the shadows a little, the villain grins, still gripping his staff.

The Villain: “Well, no matter…”

Panel 2 - The shadows behind the villain have shifted into the silhouette of a figure with horns. Enormous, bright red eyes glare ominously forward into the camera.

The Villain: “Once your companion shows up to save you, he’ll meet his grisly-”

Panel 3 - The villain’s speech balloon continues into the next panel but his sentence is cut off as the shadows materialize into Daredevil. Daredevil punches the villain in the face, fist flying towards the camera. We see the villain’s full face at last as his monocle goes sailing off his face and out into the gutters between the panels.

The Villain makes a distressed noise.

Panel 4 - A bird’s eye view down at the floor from the top of the clock. We can see Daredevil’s boots standing on the top of the clock. The villain lies unconscious on the floor, his monocle next to him, cracked and his staff out of reach.. Still sitting on the platform is Foggy, who looks up at the camera with a fond expression.

Foggy: “My hero.”

Panel 5 - Camera at ground level, Foggy watches as Daredevil jumps towards the ground. Daredevil: “I’m guessing this was a me-related kidnapping?”

Panel 6 - The camera is over Foggy’s shoulder. Daredevil is facing away from Foggy as he unties Foggy’s hands. His expression is regretful and apologetic and the far-side of his face is slightly cast in shadow.

Foggy: Well…

Daredevil: Sorry... /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 3

Panel 1 - Daredevil sits on his knees as he unties the ropes around Foggy’s ankles. He’s still regretful. Foggy reaches over to pat Daredevil on the shoulder with a comforting expression.

Foggy: “Really, don’t get pouty. This guy wasn’t exactly threatening.”

Panel 2 - Daredevil and Foggy are both standing now. Foggy is holding the remnants of the rope in his hand and examining it with a dubious expression. Behind him, Daredevil looks confused.

Foggy: “He didn’t even tie me to the clock.”

Daredevil: “That’s a clock?”

Panel 3 - Far zoom out at ground level. Foggy and Daredevil walk away from the camera towards the double-doors of the warehouse. Light from the street casts a shadow behind them as they move towards the light.

Daredevil: “Why’s there an axe on it?”

Foggy: “His theme is inconsistent.”

Daredevil: “Hm.”

Panel 4 - Pull back and reveal the outside of the warehouse, a square brick building with a low, flat roof. The full moon hangs low in the sky. The streets around them are empty and a bright streetlamp casts the warehouse area in light, reflecting off the power lines and windows of the warehouse. Daredevil climbs a rickety ladder next to the warehouse door, leading up to the warehouse roof as Foggy stands on the ground and watches him climb.

Daredevil: ”To be honest, I think time is scary enough without a giant axe clock.”

Panel 5 - Foggy grins up at Daredevil as he climbs up the ladder towards the camera.

Foggy: “What, worried about getting old? Daredeviling getting hard on your knees?”

Daredevil: “No, no…”

Panel 6 - As Daredevil’s boots retreat out of the top of the panel, Foggy starts to climb up after Daredevil.

Daredevil: “It’s hard to explain.”

Panel 7 - At the top of the warehouse. The roof access door visible over h’s shoulder, Daredevil is standing on the flat roof and reaching over the ledge to pull Foggy the remaining distance up the ladder.

Daredevil: “Maybe it’s the idea of stuff slipping away, missing chances, that sort of thing.”

Foggy: “Let’s not talk about slipping when you’re pulling me up a rusty ladder?” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 4 -

Panel 1 - The New York City skyline lights up the horizon as Daredevil and Foggy sit on the ground of the roof, their backs to the ledge wall surrounding it. Daredevil hugs his knees and Foggy has one leg stretched out and one bent slightly, more relaxed. Foggy looks at Daredevil.

Foggy: “So, what slipped away from you?”

Panel 2 - From behind, Daredevil pulls his cowl up and off, revealing Matt’s hair. It’s static-y and wild from being under the cowl.

Matt: “Oh…”

Panel 3 - Matt grips his knuckles and faces down, blushing brightly as Foggy, with a determined expression, runs his fingers through Matt’s hair trying to smooth it down.

Matt: “Just… Stuff.”

Panel 4 - Matt in profile, gently wincing. The blush has receded and Foggy is smiling at him.

Foggy: “Oh. like how I still wish I had tried out for the Hell’s Kitchen community theater production of The Scarlet Pimpernel?”

Matt: “Ha, kind of.”

Panel 5 - Meta panel, borderless with a white background. Cartoon-y versions of Matt and Foggy pop up from the edge of the lower panel’s border, standing next to an elaborate image of Foggy dressed in a French Revolution era military outfit, reminiscent of Norm Lewis’s from the 2006 revival. Cartoon Foggy is looking at the version of himself in costume thoughtfully, cartoon Matt has his arms crossed and is nodding.

Foggy: “Well, it’s not too late. They’re doing Les Mis in the fall. What do you think, should I try out for Fog Valfog or Fog-vert?”

Matt: “Oh, Fog-vert, one hundred percent.”

Panel 6 - Tight on Matt, his face is half-hidden in shadow. He’s smiling slightly but is more sad than anything else.

Matt: “I think I’m too late for what I’m thinking about, though.”

Panel 7 - Panning over to Foggy, who is reaching for Matt’s shoulder.

Foggy: “Oh, come on, Matty, don’t be so broody.”

Panel 8 - Tight on the lower half of Matt’s face and his shoulder, where Foggy’s hand is resting. Matt is blushing again. In the background, Foggy is prattling on about something unclear but Matt isn’t paying attention.

Panel 9 - Matt in profile, his head cast down and shadows cover the top half of his face. He’s hesitant to explain.

Matt: “Foggy I - …” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 5 -

Panel 1 - Pull out to see Matt facing the camera and Foggy next to him. Matt isn’t facing Foggy and is still blushing. Foggy’s excited and has taken his hand off Matt’s shoulder.

Matt: “... Do you want a ride home?”

Foggy: “Oh hell yes, I do!”

Panel 2 - The lights of the New York buildings around them blur as Matt swings through the city on his billy club, Foggy’s arms tight around his neck.

Panel 3 - Foggy’s apartment, small amongst the New York skyscrapers. Scattered lights are on in the windows of the buildings, but Foggy’s apartment is dark.

Foggy: “So, uhhh…”

Panel 4 - Inside Foggy’s apartment, the lights are off. Matt stands stiffly with his arms crossed in the corner, next to the window, staying in the shadows. Foggy, in the foreground, is pulling off his dress shirt, revealing his undershirt. His belt is unbuckled and hanging loosely. He’s not looking at Matt.

Foggy: "... So you think Javert? Its a good role. I'm - I mean, I'm not sure I can carry it but ..."

Panel 5 - Matt’s blushing bright red under his mask again and he points outside, leaning towards the window, slightly panicked. Foggy’s a little disappointed.

Matt: “I - um, sorry. I need to go. Because - I … Crime.”

Foggy: “Oh, sure, no proble-”

Matt: “Bye.”

Panel 6 - Foggy frowns as a red blur leaps out the window.

Panel 7 - Cut to a bright day. Foggy, wearing a dress shirt with vest and tie, is sitting at a restaurant table across from Kirsten, who is wearing a blouse and slacks. The table has a glass of water and an uneaten burger and fries in front of Foggy and fried shrimp and salad in front of Kirsten Foggy has his eyes closed and arms crossed, frowning. Kirsten is leaning back, resting her left arm on the back of the chair and holding her drink casually in her right hand.

Foggy: “And that is the longest I’ve seen him in two weeks.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 6

Panel 1 - A restaurant patio on a New York street during the day. Foggy buries his face in his hands.

Foggy: "I had the perfect opportunity there. He was talking about - things he wished he'd done. UGH- Kirsten, why did I have to keep talking about musicals?"

Panel 2 - Close on Kirsten. She smirks and rolls her eyes.

Kirsten: “Hm, changing the subject to avoid being honest about something? Sounds like you've been hanging around Matt plenty to me.”

Panel 3 - Foggy holds a french fry and scowls at Kirsten while she takes a sip of her water through the straw.

Foggy: “Hilarious. I'm pretty sure he knows how I feel anyway.”

Panel 4: Foggy, chewing, rests his cheek in his hand and looks away from Kirsten, pouting.

Foggy: “He turned red and panic-jumped out the window before I could finish talking about Javert."

Panel 5 - Pull out to a bird’s eye view. A graffitied truck rumbles by the patio as Foggy takes a bite of his hamburger. Kirsten has put her drink down.

Kirsten: "Well, is that better or worse than an actual rejection?"

Panel 6 - Foggy is glaring down at his burger as he chews, annoyed.

Foggy: "At least an actual rejection has catharsis. Avoiding me is just him being a selfish dick." /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 7

Panel 1 - The camera shifts slightly, pointing up from under the table, revealing the restaurant name behind Foggy and Kirsten; The Dog Track, and in the corner of the sign, the disclaimer “No longer associated with the New York Gaming Commission”. Kirsten is keeping her face carefully neutral as Foggy’s expression is more irritated.

Kirsten: “That’s a little uncharitable.”

Foggy: "Just because I'm in love with him doesn't mean I don't know what he's LIKE."

Panel 2 - Kirsten tilts her head and holds a fried shrimp on a fork in her right hand.

Kirsten: "And you can't just skip all the drama, pick up your phone and call him right now because...?"

Panel 3 - Tight on Foggy, who isn’t meeting Kirsten’s eye and is blushing.

Foggy: "It's ... complicated!"

Panel 4 - Pull out on Kirsten and Foggy. Kirsten is grinning and Foggy is hunched over, eating his hamburger and looking annoyed and embarrassed.

Kirsten: "You know you're about 15 years late for this high school shit, right?"

Foggy: “You’re 15 years too late.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 8 -

Panel 1 - Another warehouse at night, large shadows cast around the room.There’s no moon lighting the windows tonight. An enormous hourglass stands on the dirty floor, a few old crates are up against the wall and some of the pipes nearby are leaking water out onto the floor. There’s a human figure in shadow within the top section of the hourglass and another one on the floor, pacing. All the sand within the hourglass is in the bottom section.

Shadowed Figure in the Hourglass: “So did you get a grant or what?”

Shadowed figure on the floor: “Silence.”

Panel 2 - Foggy, of course, is the one trapped inside the hourglass. He’s annoyed but sitting comfortably like he’s in a hammock. He throws his hands up, gesturing to the hourglass around him.

Foggy: “It's just this is kind of a big budget upgrade from two week ago! I thought you spent all your money on that tranquilizer you hit me with.”

Panel 3 - Foggy frowns, skeptically and taps the glass with a finger.

SFX: Tink-tink

Panel 4 - Close on the villain, still cast in shadow. His monocle has a crack down the middle and he is wearing a waistcoat over a dress shirt and he’s furious. The hourglass is visible behind him and as Foggy pulls his cell phone from his pocket, watches the villain from within the hourglass.

Foggy: "... You know I need to be in the bottom part of this, right?"

Villain: “I know how an hourglass works.”

Panel 5 - Over Foggy’s shoulder, within the hourglass, we see his phone. There’s a series of unreadable text messages sent to and from a devil emoji, but the latest one, sent from Foggy, simply reads “Halp”.

Foggy: “Touchy, touchy…” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 9 - 5 panels.

Panel 1 - Foggy is still reading his phone, more or less bored with the villain’s theatrics and waiting for a return text.

Foggy: “So, what, you forgot you needed a way to flip it over?”

Panel 2 - The villain crosses his arms and glares up at Foggy, offended.

Villain: “I’m sorry, do I come into your place of business and tell you how to do your job?”

Panel 3 - The camera faces Foggy within the hourglass. He throws his hands up in frustration, still gripping his phone.

Foggy: “Sorry, this is an even less deadly death trap than the first one!”

Panel 4 - Super tight shot on the villain’s eyes. The cracks in his monocle gleam and his visible eye makes him look deranged with the rest of his face in shadow.

Villain: “I am perfectly content to just push the hourglass into the river, Mr. Nelson, and let Daredevil find your bloated corpse when it washes up."

Panel 5 - Foggy smirks, looking profoundly unintimidated and reading his phone.

Foggy: “I’d be more intimidated if I thought you could afford to replace it.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 10 - 6 panels.

Panel 1 and 2 - The villain furiously points up at Foggy.

Villain: “I will have you know Mr. Nelson, I”

The villain is suddenly cut off when a red billy club flies in from the left side of the panel, hitting him in the side of the head. His monocle goes flying and the villain himself drops like a sack of bricks.

Panel 3 - Daredevil in silhouette jumps down and lands gracefully on the silhouette of the hourglass with Foggy inside.

Foggy: “You know I don't think this guy thought this supervillain thing through.”

Panel 4 - Foggy looks up and watches as Daredevil perches on the edge of the hourglass and pushes it open at a hidden hinge. He faces down at Foggy.

Daredevil: “I don’t think any of them do.”

Panel 5 - Free of the hourglass, Foggy stands in the background next to the exit of the warehouse, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He eyes Daredevil as Daredevil scowls, fastening ropes around the villain’s hands.

Foggy: “So, we haven't really had a chance to talk at the office lately…”

Daredevil: “Well, we’ve been really busy.”

Panel 6 - Daredevil faces the exit, his face hidden and looking away from Foggy, who stands in the foreground.

Foggy: “I, uh, do need to talk to you about something -”

Daredevil: “Sure - yeah, sure, just uh….” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 11 - 6 panels.

Panel 1 - A red blur as Matt takes off, leaving Foggy in silhouette behind him.

Panel 2 - Matt’s office, during the day. Matt is sitting in a leather chair behind his desk. He is wearing a suit and tie and his eyes are hidden behind his rectangular, red sunglasses.. Kirsten is there, sitting on the edge of Matt’s desk, half-turning to look at him as they talk, she’s wearing a pair of high-waisted slacks and a flowy blouse. Matt’s office is tidy, with a long filing cabinet in the corner with a braille printer on top. His desk is clean aside from his braille reader, hooked up to his closed laptop and a mug next to him. Other buildings are visible in the window behind him. Kirsten’s expression is slightly skeptical and Matt is wincing, embarrassed.

Kirsten: “So you left a devil-shaped dustcloud.”

Matt: “Look, I’m not proud of it.”

Panel 3 - Matt leans back in his chair, smiling weakly.

Matt: “I just need some time. I’ve been actively pushing this down for years, it just… comes back up sometimes.”

Panel 4 - Kirsten is skeptical and Matt smiles grimly. Behind Kirsten, we see Matt’s office door which reads Murdock (in reversed letters).

Kirsten: “And that’s why you’re hiding in your office.”

Matt: “And that’s why I’m hiding in my office.”

Panel 5 - Zoom in on Matt. He’s half-smiling, but clearly sad.

Matt: “I just… I know he won’t be a dick about it. But it’ll make him uncomfortable and I …”

Panel 6: Matt slouches all the way down in his chair, the office around him having vanished into a white void and leaving him alone to sulk.

Matt: “I’ve put him through enough.” /end Image description]

#daredevil #mattfoggy #fan comic #long post #daredevilexchange #matt murdock #foggy nelson

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polyamproud · 3 years

Photo

Tag your partners. And your partners’ partners. And your partners’ partners’ partners. We love our polyamorousness and we love our polyamorous community. We deserve to feel proud of our banner, especially during pride. Happy pride, siblings. We’re with you. We hope you’re with us, too.

~image description below~

[Image Description: A set of 7 square images. All text is in lowercase letters.

Image 1: A single square image with a white background and outlined by a thin black border. All text in this image is centered. At the top of the image in big, bold black letters it reads “happy”, followed by gray text which reads “polyamorous”, followed by black text which reads “pride.” Beneath the text is an enlarged gray polycule symbol. Under the polycule symbol is smaller, bold black text which reads “to all of the beautiful polyamorous and nonmonogamous people challenging mono-normative relationship structures every day.” At the bottom of the image is the “@polyamproud” watermark in gray letters.

Image 2: A single square image. The background is grayed out and is mostly made up of the original polyamorous pride flag which has been grayed out and has a loading bar in the middle of the flag. Above the loading bar is gay text which reads “redesign in progress.” Under the flag is big, bold black text which reads “polyamorous pride” which is followed by more text which is not readable as parts of the foreground cover it up. The foreground features 7 speech bubbles placed in varying places. Each speech bubble has it’s own seperate font and has a statement in it. Speech bubble 1 reads “wait... where’s the flag?” Speech bubble 2 reads “I definitely thought this account posted pride flags.” Speech bubble 3 reads “which flag? the infinity heart or the pi? the green one or the blue one?” Speech bubble 4 reads “i never know which flag to use... i guess they don’t either.” Speech bubble 5 reads “hard to feel visible when no one knows what you look like.” Speech bubble 6 reads “polyamory has a flag?” Speech bubble 7 reads “how could they not post a flag today?” At the bottom right corner is white text which reads “2/7”, indicating the image number.

Image 3: A single square image with a white background. All text in this image is left-aligned. At the top of the image is big, bold black text which reads “yep. no flag.” followed by slightly smaller bold black text which reads “feeling confused?” Beneath the text is a gray vertical line at the left side of the image. Next to the line is left-aligned small, bold black text which reads “we’re choosing not to post a polyamorous pride flag until we vote and decide on a single flag as a community.” At the bottom right of the image is small, black text which reads “let us break it down for you.” Under the text is a black arrow pointing to the right. Beneath the arrow is gray text which reads “3/7”, indicating the image number. Under the image number is the “@polyamproud” watermark in gray letters. Beside the watermark is the polycule symbol in gray.

Image 4: A single square image with a white background. All text in this image is left-aligned. At the top of the image is big, bold black text which reads “our goal is to have one official flag by pride 2022. Beneath the text is small, thin black text which reads “adn we need your help to make it happen.” Halfway down the image at the left side is small gray text which reads “here’s our plan.” To the right of the text is an arrow pointing diagonally up towards the right accompanied by a stair step plan. Each step is a different colored rectangle with a small heart at the left side. The first step is a white rectangle which has bold black text which reads “spread awareness throughout the community.” The next step is a light gray rectangle which has bold black text which reads “create designs with the help of a committee.” The next step is a gray rectangle which has bold black text which reads “hold a vote featuring all new-designs.” The next step is a dark gray rectangle which has bold white text which reads “honorably retire our old flag.” At the top of the stair step plan is a simplistic drawn white flag. Next to it is bold black text which reads “the first globally selected polyamorous pride flag is born.” accompanied with a small black heart. At the bottom right corner is gray text which reads “4/7”, indicating the image number. Under the image number is the “@polyamproud” watermark in gray letters. Beside the watermark is the polycule symbol in gray.

Image 5: A single square image with a white background. The image features two black speech bubbles with centered white text as well as text answering to the speech bubble underneath them. Each speech bubble and it’s answers takes up one half of the image. The first speech bubble reads “but we already have a flag.” Beneath the text bubble at the left side of the image is a thin black vertical line with left-aligned text next to it answering the statement in the speech bubble. The text reads “yes we do. and it’s gotten us to where we are today- far more widely seen, recognized and understood.” There’s some space between the next line of text which reads “but the original flag no longer adequately reflects the community it represents, nor serves our needs.” The second speech bubble reads ”having lots of flags makes sense for us.” Beneath the text bubble at the right side of the image is a thin black vertical line with right-aligned text next to it answering the statement in the speech bubble. The text reads “yes, we get that polyamorists aren’t exactly known for “choosing just one.” There’s some space between the next line of text which reads “but we’re all part of this one vast and diverse community and, if we can agree on that, we can agree on a flag that fits us.” At the bottom right corner is gray text which reads “5/7”, indicating the image number. Under the image number is the “@polyamproud” watermark in gray letters. Beside the watermark is the polycule symbol in gray.

Image 6: A single square image with a white background. The image features two black speech bubbles with centered white text as well as text answering to the speech bubble underneath them. Each speech bubble and it’s answers takes up one half of the image. The first speech bubble reads “polyamorists don’t need a flag.” Beneath the text bubble at the left side of the image is a thin black vertical line with left-aligned text next to it answering the statement in the speech bubble. The text reads “having a single, unifying flag is a crucial tool for community advocacy, awareness, and visibility.” There’s some space between the next line of text which reads “we feel and see a need. if you don’t feel you need a flag to express/defend/advocate for your polyamory, you’re welcome not to use one.” The second speech bubble reads ”there’s already a flag i like.” Beneath the text bubble at the right side of the image is a thin black vertical line with right-aligned text next to it answering the statement in the speech bubble. The text reads “that’s so wonderful! you’re definitely not alone in that feeling. at the same time, there is a large portion of the community that has never felt the same.” There’s some space between the next line of text which reads “a widespread, international vote is a more equitable way to serve our community.” At the bottom right corner is gray text which reads “6/7”, indicating the image number. Under the image number is the “@polyamproud” watermark in gray letters. Beside the watermark is the polycule symbol in gray.

Image 7: A single square image with a white background. All text in this image is left-aligned. At the top of the image is big, bold black text which reads “let’s decide on our flag together.” Beneath the text is a black vertical line at the left side of the image. Next to the line is left-aligned small, bold black text which reads “follow @polyamproud on instagram & twitter (other platforms forthcoming) as we continue to spread awareness and, before next pride, hold the first global vote for a polyamorous pride flag.” At the bottom of the image is a black rectangle. At the right side of the rectangle is the “@polyamproud” watermark in white letters. Beside the watermark is the polycule symbol in white.

End ID.]

#lgbt #lgbt pride #lgbtq #lgbtq pride #polyam #polyamorous #polyamory #polyam pride #polyamorous pride #polyamory pride #pride flag #polyam pride flag #polyamorous pride flag #polyamory pride flag

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you.

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily.

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.”

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.”

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently.

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun.

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes.

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease.

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.”

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips. He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time.

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?”

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave.

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

imagine like riding harry and he’s choking you and mocking you bc you can barely move your hips bc it feels too good. and then you have to beg him to fuck up into you 🥵🥵

Word Count: 3,021

A/N: This was also partially inspired by another anon request I got that read :

‘one where Harry and yn doing a painting with a twist or bob ross painting together but making it a bit smutty’

Warning: SMUT!!!!!!!!! lots of smut!! Choking, dom behavior. Just nasty.

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

And don’t forget to let me know what you think! Enjoy.

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

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Loving You Is Art

Quality time with Harry was few and far between these days. It seemed that the two of you were constantly being pulled apart in every which direction, what with him preparing for a new album release and your career finally gaining momentum. You were lucky if you were even able to sit down at the end of the day and eat a meal together without interruption. You should be used to it by now after two years of dating, but it never got any easier.

He tried his best; leaving a note for you on the kitchen counter in the morning next to a pot of coffee, sending little texts throughout the day, and calling to warn you if he’d be late. Communication was important to you and he made an effort to show it. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. You missed him.

So, you decided to surprise him. You’d planned tonight for two weeks now, making sure to get caught up on your work, calling Harry’s manager to ask him if he could please not plan too much on this particular Friday without tipping your boyfriend off, and order in all the supplies for your date night. You wanted to make it extra special so when Harry walked in the door he’d not only be surprised, but excited.

He had texted you when he left his meeting and you knew you had about fifteen minutes to get it ready. Quickly, you spread an enormous tarp across the floor of your living room, dragging in two chairs, two easels, two canvases, a large canvas sheet that you spread over the floor, and a table with paintbrushes, a cup of water, and various paints. Lastly, you stripped out of your clothes and put on only three items. A black, silk robe, a pair of black strappy heels, and Harry’s pearl necklace, twisting your hair up into a clip and letting the strands drape back down. As you poured two glasses of wine, you heard the door open and close, heavy footsteps making their way further into the home you both shared.

“Baby? What’s all this?” you heard his voice echo down the hall.

The clacking of your heels caught his attention as you made your way in, wine glasses in hand, and the confused smile on his face shifted, replaced with wide eyes and his mouth falling open.

“Hi,” you smirked, pecking at the corner of his mouth. He leaned into you as you pulled away, disappointed that you parted from him so quickly, taking the glass of wine that you offered. “Strip,” you simply said, sitting on a chair that was positioned in front of one of the easels, taking a sip of your wine.

He didn’t need any further explanation, quickly doing what he was told. You giggled under your breath at his eagerness as he kicked his shoes off and practically tore the shirt off of his torso, exposing his black ink-riddled tattoos, undressing until all that was left was his boxers. Your smirk grew, placing your wine glass on the table beside your easel and standing up. Keeping your eye contact, you lifted the end of the strap that had held your robe shut, looping it through your fingers, teasingly. His eyes darted from your face, down towards your hand, and back up again as you shifted your weight on your heels.

“All the way,” you nodded towards him, your voice low and sultry, and with one hard tug, you ripped your sash away, letting your robe come undone and flitter to the ground at your feet.

Harry froze for a moment, staring at your naked body, the way your legs looked in your heels and noting how his pearls looked against your bare chest. He gulped, speechless, unable to move until you sat back down on your chair, crossing your legs, leaning back, and pulling your glass of wine back to your lips. If you blinked, you would have missed it. His boxer briefs were halfway across the room a second later, his cock large and erect, bouncing as he hustled to his chair and sat.

He seemed to understand what was going on as you each grabbed a brush, but you explained it anyway, “Paint me,” you grinned, making him smile.

“I won’t be able to do you justice,” he looked you up and down with a smirk, looking at the color options, “Especially with only three colors.”

You giggled, dipping your brush into the black paint, “Do your best.”

You lightly began blotting and stroking the color onto the canvas, occasionally looking up at him in an attempt to get a general outline first. You weren’t a great artist, he knew this. That’s why you didn’t even bother getting a large selection of colors. Most of the artwork in your home was more modernized with a combination of abstract and contemporary, anyway. So you decided to stick with the theme and colors which were black, white, and hints of a baby blue.

You tried to focus your painting more on his torso, from his chin down to his pelvic area, just where his pubic hair began to form. You peered at him through your eyelashes and bit your bottom lip at the sight of his abs tightening and relaxing as he went to town on his canvas, widely brushing his paint onto his canvas.

“Done!” he exclaimed, throwing his brush into the cup of water.

You snapped out of your trance, your mouth opened wide in indignation, “There’s no way!”

“I am!” he declared, a confident smirk on his face, “You told me to paint you, so I did!”

“Let me see!” you demanded, gripping your paintbrush in hand, black paint beginning to drip down the handle.

Confidently, Harry picked his painting off the easel and turned it around to face you. Your eyes rolled wildly when you saw what he had done. He painted the background black, and in baby blue paint drew a childlike version of tits that looked like two u’s with dots for nipples.

“Great. Well done, you twat,” you joked, flinging the paint that was on the end of your brush in his direction which splattered on his painting, also hitting his chest and thigh.

He shrieked, staring at the paint that hand landed on him before looking up with a mischievous smile. “Oh, is that how we’re playing it? Sabotage?” he gaped, head tilted as he reached for another paintbrush, dipping it into the white.

“Harry!” you threatened, giggling, hands up in defense, “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I?” he mocked, holding his paintbrush back in ready, “Last I checked, you were the one who threw the first punch.” And he launched the paint towards you, white paint splattering across your neck, chest, and arm.

You yelped, quickly standing up in shock that he had done it. Harry cackled at the expression on your face as you slowly looked up at him, mouth ajar. Your eyes flickered to the bottles of paint that sat on the table in between you and he noticed, watching you as a light had clicked in your brain.

“No!” he warned.

But you were too quick. In a split second, you had managed to grab the bottle of black paint and began squirting it in his direction, splattering it on his torso and watching it drip down the front of him. And you laughed wildly as he grabbed the blue and white paint bottles, pointing and squeezing them in your direction as the two of you circled each other, using your easels as fruitless efforts in attempting to shield yourselves.

Paint was everywhere. Your bodies were the canvas now, dollops of blue and white running down the arch of your back and the curves of your breasts, down past your bellybutton, dripping onto your feet. When you attempted to swipe the hair our of your face, you inadvertently left a smear of black paint on your cheek and forehead, making Harry laugh.

Black paint had managed to drip in the creases of his newly defined abs that he had been working so hard on these past few months, his hands having smeared most of the paint on his chest which somehow made him look even more toned. You laughed, tossing your empty paint bottle to the side as harry stepped closer, grinning, and dumping the last of the white and blue paint on your chest, his pearl necklace now smeared in color and barely recognizable.

He booped you on the nose with his index finger, leaving a trace of blue on the tip of your nose as he pressed his body closer to yours, making the black paint on his torso mix with the blue and white on yours and whispering, “You look a little wet.”

“You have no idea,” you held your breath, tingling wildly throughout your body like you always did when the sexual tension began to build.

His lips twitched, his face was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath starting to dry the paint that smeared on your face, legs starting to feel weak. His mouth hovered over yours, lips grazing, taunting, until finally he pressed his against yours, hungrily pulling you closer to him, both of your hands roaming each other’s bodies. No grip was tight enough to pull your bodies closer together.

The two of you slowly began to guide each other to the ground where you stood, on top of the fabric canvas that you had set aside to attempt to do some sort of line art of the two of you. That idea was ruined as it had now been splattered in paint and riddled with black, blue, and white footprints. He laid you down on your back, situating himself in between your legs that straddle his hips, pressing his hands on the canvas beside your head while your fingers ran through his hair, leaving streaks of paint in his browl, curly locks.

He pulled away to give you another look, smirking at the mess of color on your body and tracing a heart around your naval before he bent back down, crashing his lis on yours again. Normally, as a part of your foreplay routine, you’d share turns going down on each other, tasting each other’s juices and letting Harry play in your pussy for a bit, but with the paint, that wasn’t an option. Luckily, the need for foreplay wasn’t necessary. The past twenty minutes of teasing was enough to get you ready and his tip prodded at your cunt for a minute before slipping right in, warm and wet, just like he liked it.

You gasped at the abruptness, arching your back as he started to pump, clasping your legs tighter around his waist, “Fuck, Harry,” you managed.

Your little moans of delight always reassured him, gaining more confidence as he pumped harder into you, “Ya like that, do ya?” he ran his hand down your breast and to your hip, pulling himself back slightly and pulling you up higher so that your butt was off the ground and he could see your tits bouncing as he railed you, “Let me hear it, y/n. Let me hear how much ya like it.”

His thirst for you always got you heated for more and your voice got louder for him, screaming out his name, “God, your cock is so fucking big, Harry! Fuck! That feels so good!”

“You’re so wet,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and going faster now. His force began to lessen and you could tell he was starting to get tired, so you pushed him out of you and sat up, seeing the mess that was being made on the canvas below you.

“Lay down,” you demanded, moving aside.

He licked his lips, panting, and laying back down on the canvas like he was told before you straddled his hips once more, lowering yourself onto him. His hands naturally went to your heps, but you grabbed them, pinning them above his head which always drove him crazy. He let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape as you bounced your ass onto him, his cock rock-hard inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you heard him whisper under his breath before he forced his head up to see your breasts bouncing in his face, desperate to take one into his mouth and flick his tongue over your paint-riddled nipples.

“You like that tight pussy?” you breathes into his mouth, biting his lip before pulling away and placing your palms on his chest, using him as leverage to ride his cock, bouncing on him faster.

With his hands now free from your grasp, he snaked them up your body, giving your tits a quick squeeze, before firmly wrapping around your neck. Your body tensed for a moment. He smirked, knowing what he was doing. Choking was your kink. Not too tight where you couldn’t breathe, but firm enough on the sides of your throat where you could feel your pulse more clearly underneath his grip. You let out a loud moan, attempting to ride him harder, but your pace slowed, hips barely able to move. You were close. Too close.

Your body shook, trying to force your thighs to do their job and move, but they wouldn’t budge. Harry sniggered, “Gonna cum, are ye? My cock too much for you to handle?”

His hands loosened their grip around your neck, and you cried out, “No, don’t!” Grabbing his hand and forcing it back to your neck. Out of breath and shaking from pure pleasure, you kept trying to go faster, but you only slowed down.

He raised an eyebrow, taunting you, “Need me to fuck you?” he snickered, earning a pleading nod from you. His hand lingered around your throat, running his thumb on your jaw and he smirked, “How bad do you want it?”

You glowered down at him, attempted to readjust, trying to see if there was another position that could get you the right amount of momentum, but your efforts were futile. With every movement you made, a small gasp escaped your lips. You were teetering on the edge of climax, unable to move, and it was agony.

“Harry, fuck me!” You begged, forcing your own hands around his throat, “Please, fuck me!”

His eyes grew more ravenous, jaw clenching and clutching the pearls that hung around your neck, tightening his grip on them so that they began to squeeze at your throat. Your begging was all it took. He forced his cock up into you so fast and so hard that you were practically being lifted up off the ground. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in rapture, sounds you didn’t even know you could make being forced from your mouth.

His mouth puckered, eyes wandering from your head that flew back in pleasure, to your breasts, covered in paint and smeared to look more gray with specs of blue dotting down to your belly button. Your moans started to become shorter and more loud, body tensing and a chill running down your spine, “Just like that, babe! Keep going. Right there!” You panted until you let out one long, loud scream.

Your screams sent him over the edge, letting gown of the pearls around your neck and gripping on your hips harder, pulling you down onto him as he pushed up into you. His grunts getting faster and his lower jaw jutting out. “You’re so-fucking-sexy!” he grumbled in between thrusts before his final, deep, long thrust into you, pulling you tight onto his cock as he came inside of you, letting out a low, deep moan.

You collapsed onto him, the rising and falling of his chest matching your breathing, leaying their for a moment before you rolled off of him, both of you sprawled onto the tarp that covered the floor, naked and covered in paint. The two of you laid there for a moment until you started to feel the paint beginning to dry on your leg, and before you could say anything, he turned his head to face you.

Sweat beaded his forehead and he was finally beginning to catch his breath when he smiled at you, dimples evident in his cheeks, “You’re amazing.”

You grinned, forcing yourself up and attempting to hide the shakiness of your legs, “I know.”

The two of you helped shower each other off and clean up your mess as much as possible. Both canvases that were on the easels were trashed and you had to wipe the paint splatters off of the wooden chairs and tables, but for the most part, the tarp had done a good job at making sure paint hadn’t gotten on the floor. There was only one little spot of blue stain that gotten onto the molding of the wall from when Harry flicked paint at you, but it was barely noticable if you weren’t looking for it.

As for the fabric of canvas, at first they were going to get rid of it. But, the more they looked at it, the more they fell in love with it. It was very abstract, black, white, and blue smeared all over, parts of it mixing into grey. If you looked hard enough, you could see the streaks from their handprints and the blue and white circles where your knees and feet had been when you rode him. You decided to attach it to stretcher bars and have it framed, putting it above the sitting room fireplace.

Harry loved having this huge canvas of art on display; knowing how it was made and how prominently it was displayed for everyone who came over to see turned into a little kink of his. Whenever someone commented on how cool it looked, the two of you would always share a look and smirk, and when you had a split second of privacy, he’d kiss you with such intensity that reminded you of that night.

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

Taglist:

@odetostep

#Harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction smut

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dragimalsdaydreams · 3 years

Photo

ok soooo... I’ve never played Pokemon or watched the show or anything, but my dear friend @cobwebbing got into SWSH a while back and infodumped a lot of interesting trivia onto me, including the thing about fossil combinations. we were both horrified by the implications, to the point that she wrote a fun fic exploring the concept (HIGHLY recommend it), and I got invested in speculating the ACTUAL original Pokemon (also, these designs are technically ‘canon’ to her fic)

I tried to mimic some of the official art in lining/shading, but I don’t think I stuck fully to the ‘cartoony’ vibe of Pokemon. ah well, good experience either way

for ease of reading, I’ll be slotting both the image descriptions AND the extra “Pokedex” info about these guys under the cut-- I thought a LOT about their behaviors lmao. for the image descriptions, please assume that the style of all pieces is a mix of ‘cartoony’ and realistic in form, with solid lines and base colors

+bonus! to see the belly <3

[IMAGE ID: text above the Pokemon reads “Zoomzolt” with a yellow button underneath reading “Electric”. the background is a dull yellow with some areas of shade.

this Pokemon is shaped like a prehistoric raptor, with a small/round horizontal torso, a thin neck curved upright, small arm-wings, lithe digitigrade hind legs, and a thin tail held stiffly out at an upward angle from the body. most of the body is bright yellow with small areas of purple, as will be described. the Pokemon is standing cheerily, facing to the left.

the head has a long snout with a prominent bump emphasizing the tip, where a small purple nostril sits on the visible side. the mouth is held open in a happy gape, showing a purple tongue. the front half of the upper and lower jaws have serrated edges resembling sharp teeth, which seem to interlock. the eyes are closed, the lines of the eyelashes turned up with the smile. a small doodle to the left of the head shows the head with jaw closed and eyes open, showing off glossy black-button eyes with tiny eyelashes, and sparkles floating around the eyes. the head is framed by a crown of large, decorative feathers, all of which are a lighter yellow than the body and sport a couple spots of purple. each cheek also has a single purple spot.

a pair of small arms are held loosely to the sides of the body, each with three bare-skin purple talons with long claws, peeking out from under the fluffy yellow feathers of the arm. each arm sports a set of primary feathers resembling a simple wing, ending at around the elbow. these primaries are a lighter yellow than the main body, with a couple spots of purple near the edges. the overall outline at the trailing edge of the primaries forms a lightning bolt shape. there’s a long decorative feather on each of the wings, close to the body, which extends out into a simple zig-zag, before ending in a rounded tip which resembles a peacock feather with a small wisp and a couple purple spots.

the bonus image removes the closest wing primaries, better showing the lighter-yellow underbelly, and the hind legs. the hind legs are long and lithe, covered in yellow feathers up until the ankle, below which the skin is bare and purple. each foot has three toes, two of which are based flat on the ground with mid-length claws. the third toe closest to the body is raised high, sporting a large, sickle-shaped claw, curved sharply compared to the other claws.

a fan of long, light-yellow feathers spans out from the tip of the tail, resembling both the wing feathers and the crown of feathers on the head, adorned with purple spots. the overall outline resembles a diamond, with a vague zig-zag formed by a few feathers on the sides. two long decorative feathers resembling those found on the wings sprout from the sides of the fan as well.

END ID]

Name: Zoomzolt

Type: Electric

Animal Inspirations: road-runners, cockatoos, microraptors in general

Extra design notes: since the spots on the cheeks canonically match the other fossil in the pair, that gave me free-rein to choose whatever color I felt like, and I eventually landed on purple. I also redesigned the arms/wings b/c the shape was just kinda awkward and dull? I think the new wing shape adds more flair to the design, especially in combination with the tail. btw I only thought of the partly-arboreal lifestyle halfway through the piece, and I didn’t feel like changing the claws to fit it better. just know I’m aware that the wing claws should be curvier, and the toe claws (sans sickle) shorter, lmao

Pokedex entry:

Zoomzolts are a highly social species, roaming the moors and forests in groups of 20 or more. while individuals aren’t particularly strong, their tight social bonds more than make up for the lack-- several Zoomzolts can combine their electric powers and deliver devastating blows to even the fiercest opponents. if this isn’t enough, Zoomzolts are a quick and agile species-- they can race away across the plains or climb up nearby trees before their opponent can recover. their unique feet provide an advantage here-- a marriage between an arboreal lifestyle with the curved sickle-claw for climbing, and a grounded lifestyle with the rest of the flat toes for stable running.

besides scaring off predators, Zoomzolts mainly use their electricity to attract and capture prey. at night, packs of Zoomzolts will gather in the upper foliage of tall trees, settle down, and allow small sparks of electricity to arc across their purple spots-- from one part of the body to another, and from one individual to another. this creates a dazzling light show that many nocturnal Bug Pokemon simply can’t resist. when these bugs venture close, the nearest Zoomzolt will quickly snatch them up before returning to formation.

Zoomzolts are friendly and curious to a fault, known for snooping among human belongings if left alone for too long. they’re very easy to train and bond well with humans, but a Zoomzolt will always need more of their own kind to truly thrive. at least 3 or 4 other Zoomzolts are needed for an individual Zoomzolt’s social/mental health, but not all trainers are committed to keeping that many of one species.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the right of the Pokemon reads “Dunkovish” with a tan button and blue button underneath reading “Rock” and “Water”, respectively. the background is a light blue with some areas of shade.

pictured is a fish-like Pokemon, with a typical torpedo-shaped body and a stocky, blunt head. most of the body is blue, with areas of orange and pale yellow, as will be described. the body is positioned in a downward curve, as if the Pokemon is poised to strike at something off-screen.

the head is heavily armored, with most of the main skull forming one large oblong-dish shape. much of this armor is dark blue, while other sections are a bronze-orange color. the jaws are formed out of large, jagged plates, creating massive interlocking orange teeth. the jaw is gaping slightly open, showing a pale blue inner mouth. the visible jaw hinge is rounded and prominent on the cheek. two small, round, bulging eyes sit just above the jaws, on either side of the head near the hinges. the eyes are pale yellow with black, vertical, rectangular pupils.

a few other large plates of armor (some dark blue, some bronze orange) extend out past the main head piece onto the body, arranged like overlapping scales. these plates all have lines at the trailing edges, implying a simple texture. the main body beyond these scales is pale blue, with splotches of dark blue and smaller spots of orange splattered across the body, arranged in a pattern to imply small scales.

there are two sets “limb fins”, one directly behind the lower jaw, and the other near the tail. both sets are built on prominent lobes extending from the main body and matching the main body colors, before the spines of the fin extend out from the ends, flaring out in a pale yellow. the front set of fins is medium-size, smaller than the head, while the back set is much smaller.

the tail fin starts on the back, in the middle of the spine, and extends down to the tip of the tail, then underneath into an extra lobe of spines. visually, this means the main fleshy part of the tail extends into the upper lobe of longer spines, while the lower, shorter lobe of spines flares out underneath, unsupported. this tail fin is pale yellow.

END ID]

Name: Dunkovish

Type: Rock, Water

Animal Inspirations: dunkleosteus, coelacanth

Extra design notes: added in a rock type b/c of the whole “armored fish” thing, and some orange to complement that

Pokedex entry:

this Pokemon roams the open ocean, traveling dozens of miles every day in search of large prey to attack. once spotted, Dunkovish will swim off an appropriate distance, then charge the prey at full speed, ramming their rock-hard skulls into their prey. these charging attacks can easily shatter bone and internal organs, leaving their prey weak and defenseless as Dunkovish feasts.

Dunkovish aren’t typically a danger to humans, as they usually steer clear of shorelines. small shipping vessels are more at risk, as Dunkovish can mistake the ships for prey and ram into them, causing shipwrecks and major losses.

while their power makes them dangerous for the inexperienced, Dunkovish are shockingly easy to train. they’re very food-motivated Pokemon, so all a prospective trainer needs is a lot of tasty chum and a bit of patience.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the upper left of the Pokemon reads “Arctoise” with a light blue button underneath reading “Ice”. the background is light blue with some areas of shade.

this Pokemon looks to be a cross between a tortoise and a plesiosaur, with a large, rounded shell, two sets of long fins, and a paddle-like tail. the shell is mostly snow-white, while the rest of the body is mostly blue with areas of white, as will be described. the body is floating at rest, fins spread-eagle from the body for balance.

the shell is fairly tall and dome-shaped, with the lower half wrapping underneath the torso, between the front and hind legs. the shell has some ridges at the back implying “layers” of snow, which smooth out as they reach the front of the shell. the base color is snow-white, while the lower two “layers” get progressively darker, into a blue-ish light grey. this grey peters out into spots as it reaches the front of the shell.

the head is long, thin, and sharply pointed, making for a thin spear shape. the snout resembles a dolphin beak-- long and rounded at the tip. the eyes are sharp and triangular, with visible white sclera, light blue irises, and round black pupils. the nostrils are based at the center of the beak, raised up along with a small ridge of bone at the center-line of the beak, meeting the forehead. the nostrils are merged together into a small heart shape. a set of small spiral shapes frames either side of the cranium, implying some kind of auditory system. the neck is tucked into the body in the main art, but a small doodle to the side shows the neck fully extended-- long and serpentine like a heron. while the main body (outside the shell) is an aqua blue, the head itself is mostly dark blue, with a few stripes of aqua blue at the tip of the beak.

there are two sets of long, pointed fins, the front set slightly larger than the back set. the front set of fins sit to either side of the neck, settled into the open body cavity of the shell. the back set extend from the shell as well, just in front of the tail. each fin’s base color is dark blue, with white tips and white spots that vaguely follow the inner bone structure of the fins.

the tail is thick and somewhat short, smoothly transitioning from the wide main body-shell down into a pointed tip. lobes of short cartilaginous fins sprout from the top and bottom of the tail tip, the top lobe taller but not as long, and the bottom lobe shorter height-wise but longer. the main tail is aqua blue, while the fins are dark blue.

END ID]

Name: Arctoise

Type: Ice

Animal Inspirations: sea turtles, tortoises, plesiosaur, herons, anhingas

Extra design notes: in retrospect, the ‘shell’ is prolly meant to be a mane of fur, but I like my shell idea too much to change it (if I were to redo it tho, I might’ve gone for like... seal inspiration? selkie lore?? hm). also certain restorations of plesiosaurs shaped the ‘paddle’ on the tail like I’ve shown, which makes more sense to me.

Pokedex entry:

this Pokemon is closely related to the modern Lapras, as seen in their many shared structural features. many researchers even believe Arctoise to be a direct ancestor to Lapras due to genetic similarities, but this question hasn’t been fully resolved.

Arctoise are very successful predators of the frigid southern pole, utilizing a unique hunting technique. they float patiently out near glaciers, necks tucked into their shells and staying perfectly still for hours on end. when other Pokemon see the Arctoise’s shiny white shell, they’re fooled into thinking it’s a snow-covered glacier, safe to rest on. when the Pokemon settles comfortably on the shell, Arctoise snaps into action, quickly flipping over so their prey is thrown into the water. sometimes this is enough to drown the prey (often true for Flying Pokemon that dropped down to rest), but usually this only stuns the prey. this gives Arctoise the chance to snap out their long neck and capture the prey in their powerful jaws. once subdued, Arctoise will right their body in the water and enjoy their meal.

despite the ponderous size/shape of this species, Arctoise are still able to float quite easily due to air sacs located near their spine (thus, near the top of their shell). these sacs allow Arctoise to carefully control how they float, and help hold the large dome of their shell above the water.

communities of small Water Pokemon often form around Arctoise. the large shell and quiet demeanor makes for a stable underwater haven, and a steady source of food from the scraps that Arctoise leaves behind. they’re usually safe from Arctoise’s appetite, as they’re too small to be considered a proper meal. additionally, these small Pokemon often attract larger prey to the area, providing Arctoise more hunting opportunities.

Arctoise is an aloof species, and won’t respond well to “overly-affectionate” bond-based training. but as long as their space and solitude is respected, an Arctoise is willing to cooperate with a trainer towards mutual goals.

~~~

[IMAGE ID: text to the upper left reads “Dracoleon” with a purple button and magenta button underneath reading “Dragon” and “Poison”, respectively. the background is a light purple with some areas of shade.

there are two Pokemon in this image, one to the left with a “female” ♀ symbol, and one to the right with a “male” ♂ symbol. both Pokemon resemble stocky, low-set herbivorous dinosaurs, with short/thick legs, and round/heavy torsos. the female is far larger than the male, and sports two rows of large spikes along her back. the base color of both is a dark green, with large swathes of magenta patterns, as will be described. both are poised with their heads low to the ground, and the female’s tail raised in a defensive position.

the heads of both sexes are wide and triangular, with sharp points at either side of the skull, and a pointed beak at the tip. their round eyes rest underneath the flat top of the skull, facing outwards to either side. the female’s eyelids are pointed down in an angry expression, while the male’s eyelids are pointed up in a worried expression. their visible sclera are white, and their irises are dark magenta. their nostrils sit on either side at the point of the beak. there are prominent bumps on either side of the skull, just behind the eyes, implying an auditory system. the flat top of the skull is bright magenta, while the rest of the head is dark green.

the small head transitions into the larger body via a thick, short neck, held low to the ground. the torsos are both round, heavy, and somewhat horizontally flat like a lizard. the base color is dark green with a light green underbelly, while the magenta pattern on the head extends all the way down to the tail, covering the full back. several pointed spikes of color stick out from the pattern, trailing down the sides of the torso and legs.

the female has two rows of light magenta spikes sticking out from the upper-sides of her torso, 7 pairs in total. the front-most spikes are the largest, with a horn-like shape that curves out in a wave of out-up-out into a sharp tip. the shape of the spikes gradually transitions from round horns to triangular plates at the end of the tail. the sizes transition from the largest at the front, smaller on the torso, larger at the center of the tail, then small at the tip again. all the spikes point at an angle out/up from the body, except for the very last pair on the tip of the tail, which stick out flatly from the sides of the tail.

the legs of both sexes are short and stocky, with thick underlying muscles. the feet are all digitigrade, but the foot/”hand” sections are very short. the feet all have 3 main toes set flat on the ground, while the front feet have a dew claw set higher on the hand, above the ground. all claws are short/thick and hoof-like, though the female’s are slightly longer and sharper. the hind legs are longer than the front legs, pushing the hips higher than the shoulders. the legs are all dark green with light magenta claws. the female has extra magenta stripes running horizontal across the legs.

the tails are both thick, transitioning smoothly from the thick body down to a pointed tip. the male’s tail is short and stubby, while the female’s is longer, sporting the spikes.

END ID]

Name: Dracoleon

Type: Dragon, Poison

Animal Inspirations: stegosaurus, ankylosaurus. (also.... Kaim from Devilman......)

Extra design notes: I mostly color-picked for the other Pokes, but I shifted Dracoleon’s color a lot from the canon colors. the og colors were just a bit too much for me-- hurt a lil bit to look at. so I shifted the red more magenta, and the green to a duller, more subdued saturation. I’m hoping the purple-shifted red conveys the Poison type better. also added a couple more spikes to the tail for flair.

Pokedex Entry:

due to their heavy sexual dimorphism, researchers originally identified male Dracoleon remains as juveniles of the species. it wasn’t until this Pokemon was fully restored in the flesh that this misconception was corrected.

female Dracoleon are highly territorial, aggressively defending their territory against anything they perceive to be a threat. thus, females are generally solitary, only tolerating the presence of male Dracoleon. this aggression only increases during breeding season, when females compete for male attention, and then nesting season when defending their hatchlings.

male Dracoleon are much smaller and more docile than their female counterparts. while females will actively protect males when the males are still within their territory, males usually find protection in numbers by banding together into small groups. males are as attentive to nesting needs as the females, but since they end up mating with several females a year, they roam in small groups across several territories. they’ll visit one female’s nest to help with food and nest protection for a while, before heading off to the next territory for another round of nest-duty. these transition periods from one territory to another are where males are most vulnerable to predation, so they try to travel quickly.

females’ spikes are covered in a toxic oil which is mostly an irritant to fellow Dracoleon and Poison-types, but can easily kill other species if it penetrates the skin. their magenta patterns build an association between their bright coloring and toxicity, which helps protect the males from predation by association, despite the males not having toxic spikes.

while Dracoleon are herbivorous generalists of thick forest regions, they seem to prefer roots and tubers over foliage. Dracoleon territory is easily identified by scattered areas of dug-up soil and holes.

while male Dracoleon are generally easy to befriend and train, females are very stubborn and aggressive towards most training attempts. however, if an experienced trainer is determined enough to prove their worth to their Pokemon, Dracoleon can become one of the most loyal and trustworthy companions a trainer could hope for.

#pokemon swsh #arctozolt #arctovish #dracozolt #dracovish #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #WHEW... that was a task

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simpsiren · 4 years

Text

lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

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aquaticstyles · 4 years

Text

the five senses

hello everyone! while a separate 13k fic is in the works, as promised, here is a lil 2k piece i miraculously came up with at midnight. as always, feedback is happily welcomed!!! happy reading lovies x

it's been five months since it ended.

you should hate him. you should utterly and fascinatingly despise him. you should hate the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he smelled, and the way the sounded. you should forget him—rip every page, crumple him up, and strike a match.

key word: should.

but you don't hate him. you couldn't if you tried. you are utterly and fascinatingly still wrapped around his perfect, ring-encircled fingers. you love the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded. you can't forget him, no matter how much you want to. his ink is still scattered in the novels of your memories, proving to be permanent and stubborn as you try desperately to put fire to its pools.

you are still utterly and fascinatingly not over him.

and you suppose that is why your mind has chosen to drift off to candy land, marshmallow puff trees and gooey caramel lakes, visions of him swimming around, around, and around.

and you also suppose that you shouldn't be thinking of him while another man touches your skin.

key word: shouldn't.

but you can't help it. not when you're reminded of just how differently harry captured your senses and locked them away in the thumping of his chest, throwing away the key.

sight

you can still see him.

his dimples popping, inviting you to curl up inside one of them for just a moment, bunny teeth displayed in an ear to ear grin when he sees you, his lover, his everything, finally in 3D again, because boy oh boy pixelated facetime does not do you justice.

those two endless forests of green paired with wispy eyelashes, billboards for his every emotion, reeling you in and casting you back over and over and over again.

that body of his that makes you positively drool—fresh out of the shower, a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, those ferns that if you had it your way, would never be covered, tempting your eyes to what's below, other markings of ink scattered across a toned bicep, chest, thigh, an endless coloring book for you and only you to paint with your lips, diamond water droplets clinging onto tanned, sun-kissed skin, mimicking your fingers as they slide down the tight muscles, ridges and valleys, of his back, the velvet, rose scrunchie of yours that he has claimed as his own cozying up around those stubborn, chestnut curls atop his head, the ones that cause eyes to roll and skin to furrow between his brows because "they're always in my fuckin' way."

the way he looks when he's napping in the summer heat after taking a refreshing dip in the pool—cheek smushed against a lawn chair, causing his bubble-gum pink lips to pucker unintentionally, begging for a slow, lazy, warm kiss, a van gogh masterpiece of bright blues, oranges, yellows, reds, whites, greens, browns, swirling together in his canvas, those green forests peacefully hidden as his pure, innocent relaxation melts into a scene of serenity before you (you're guilty of laying directly on top of him one too many times, pressing your cheek against the warm expanse of his back and sneaking in a cat nap as well).

how he looks when he enters a room, especially those rooms with a stage and thousands of fans bubbling over with excitement, confidence and swagger exuding from his pores as the spotlights hit him in all the right places, bouncing off the numerous gems and glitter of that night's glamorous get-up. then later the way he looks as his face twists in pleasure during a post-show-adrenaline-rush-dressing-room-quickie.

his reflection in the mirror of your vanity as you do your makeup, broad shoulders leant up against the doorframe, watching you as you carefully add sparkles here and powder there, the glint of curiosity and pure infatuation in his eye, his fingers toying with the smirk on his lips when you meticulously swipe on your favorite his favorite red lipstick, knowing good and well that once he's finished with you there won't be a single trace of crimson left on your lips.

you can see all of him, from the tufts of hair you love to tug and pull and sink your hands into, to the perfect slope of his nose, the sharp pinch of his jawline, his cute ears you poke fun at much to his annoyance, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect, perfect lips, his neck that always seems readily accessible to leave bites and red stains along, the ship stamped on his bicep, his abdomen that isn't too tight or too soft under your touch, just right, the happy trails leading to that one part of him that leaves you aching for days, his thighs, all the way down to his toe permanently labeled "Big."

touch

you can still feel him.

the tips of his calloused fingers tracing down your spine, a valley of goosebumps following in their tracks, a sea of comfort washing over you. fingers intertwined between yours, squeezing your palm, fresh autumn air and central park and new coats and steaming, black coffee. fingers fanned out across your thigh, splashes of pastel purple polish on cuticles and knuckles (he was shaking too much from laughing at something on twitter like an avocado in a top hat or a dog in gucci loafers). fingers following directions on a well-traveled map, tracing over the outline of your chapped lips, up to the apples of your rosy cheeks, to your temples, and entangling into long locks of tangled hair, braiding, massaging and scratching when you've had a tough day, exhausted, hypnotized, harry.

lips against your ear, hushed whispers meant for only you in the midst of a thundering crowd (one too many neat tequilas and risky texts), cold rings sneaking underneath your shirt and spanning out against a piping hot back, the vibrations from the bass thumping beneath you joined by the organ in your chest, sweaty palms and shaky knees as rivers of suggestions flood from his earth to yours, promises that will be proven true later in seductive, blue moonlight.

his sudsy chest cuddled snugly behind your back, sinking beneath bubbles of lavender and rose because he couldn't just pick one scent, your missing puzzle piece, pruny fingers tracing shapes onto your knee beneath the water, vibrations from his giggles when you mistakenly guessed the shape as a dinosaur (it was a banana), warm puffs of breath against your neck, sopping scrunchies stacked on the ledge next to a half empty bottle of red, lips painting across your shoulder down your arm to your fingertips coating you in bright yellow, affection, admiration, addiction.

the prickles of the new addition to his face scratching up against you in the most agonizingly amazing way as his face buries between your thighs, the magic of that mouth of his, pixie dust, an arched back, an eager tongue accompanied by glistening, cherry lips, pleadings of "never shave again."

him buried inside you in the early hours of the morning, legs anchored around his waist, miles and miles of his soft, tanned skin washing against your own, nails digging into the toned ridges of his back, chestnut locks falling onto a sweaty forehead, scorching lips dancing over every inch of you over and over until he reaches that one spot, moans and exhales and crumpled sheets, your temple resting on a swallow, fingertips tracing a lone butterfly, clutching onto the cold metal of a cross, lazy smiles, bed head, halfway closed eyelids, a tranced daze basking in fresh, crisp sunlight.

taste

you can still taste him.

the bitter taste of whiskey coating his tongue as it encircles your own in the back of a taxi, wrinkled suit jackets and bunched up satin, fingers toying with buttons and zippers, giggles when his nose bumps against yours carelessly, a clouded drunken haze of city lights and sparkling sequins.

minty toothpaste covered lips smushing against yours because he just "couldn't wait," spearmint, foamy smiles wiped away on plush towels.

juice from a ripe watermelon dribbling down his chin and leaving a sugary path along his exposed neck and chest, glistening in the afternoon, summer heat, lapped up teasingly by your tongue, causing widened eyes and a harsh gulp, the reflection of heart shaped sunglasses rippling in a crystal clear pool.

a warm cup of coffee sitting on your bedside table, placed there by your lover before he leaves for a run, waiting for you in the early morning glow of your bedroom, the scent from a fresh pot still lingering in the air, the steaming liquid slowly cascading down your throat during his absence.

coconut chapstick coating his lips, stolen from your side of the vanity, even though he has countless of tubes himself he claims using yours "is more moisturizing" when in reality he just likes keeping a part of you with him at all times.

saltwater droplets clinging onto his skin, coating your lips as you leave trails of kisses along his chest and sunburnt cheeks, awaking him from his nap in the shade, waves crashing behind you, seagulls chirping and trying to steal crisps, low grumblings of "what's this fo?" accompanied by a dimple and a smirk ("just cause").

smell

you can still smell him.

the candle burning in his dressing room on tour, the one you bought him that you immediately recognize when you visit him for the first time since he left, a warm batch of butterflies brewing in your tummy when you notice the almost completely burnt through wick, apples and cinnamon.

his detergent, leaving your clothes coated in a fresh linen scent because "no way yeh leaving mine with laundry to do, love" a pair of his boxers that he knows you love to wear folded neatly on top of the rest of your belongings and sent off with a pillowy peck to your lips and promises of "see you tomorrow."

his body wash and hair product duplicates in your shower, dancing with daisies in the steam surrounding him, persisting in the small, tiled space for most of the week, even in his vacancy. sometimes you'll accidentally on purpose grab his bottle of shampoo with your eyes closed, using more than intended (harry goes through shampoo much quicker now).

the diffuser in his bedroom, spewing out vapors of a eucalyptus blend he ordered online after extensive research ("it helps with clear breathin' and relaxation"), another scent that can only be described as pure harry, later encompassing your abode as well due to your incessant claims of how much you love it (one night you came home from work to a perfectly wrapped package on the foot of your bed, a diffuser and the same eucalyptus blend hidden inside).

his cologne perched on your dresser, tom ford, tobacco vanille, harry in a bottle, sneakily spritzed on your sweatshirt when he's not looking (he notices every time), lingering on your pillow case, his purple robe hanging next to yours, and your hand towels, tokens of him dolloped throughout your apartment, a tornado of familiarity swirling you into his galaxy. the same scent filling your nose as it buries into his neck, arms wrapped around him in an ages-long bear hug, his cheek resting against the top of your head, the soft fibers of his sweater tickling your skin.

sound

you can still hear him.

the warm drip of his honey voice in the early hours of the morning, raspy and deep from his slumber, pooling in the pit of your stomach growing thick and heavy until releasing with moans and whispers lost in the rising sun.

that laugh of his that doesn't bubble up often, the one you cause more than anyone else, buckets of giggles that leaves behind tears, crinkled eyes, and hands over tummies.

his thick accent that repolishes itself after he's made a trip to london, mumbles of "bugger," "oi love," "rubbish," and your favorite, "absobloodylutely" leaving his cherry lips more often than he realizes.

his moans. your favorite kind is when you're riding him, locked in a sweaty, pulsating embrace—twisting here and turning there and doing the things you know drive him absolutely mad—those moans that erupt from deep inside him and uncharacteristically replace his typical, filthy language because you're doing him so good that he's left speechless in a heap of tangled limbs and panting breaths.

his voice as it echoes in the acoustics of the shower, the soft patter of the water serving as his own orchestra, notes belonging to rock anthems of the 70s or sometimes his own verses that have been freshly inked in his worn-in journal (occasionally you'll record him singing the new ones—unbeknownst to him—to listen to when he's away for too long).

the clinking of his rings together when he's in full-on discussion mode—using his hands as he elaborately details a story of his childhood or a conversation he had with jeff today or why he thinks salsa shouldn't go in the fridge or the reason behind this lyric and that chord progression.

his keys clanking against the ceramic dish by the door, the sweetest symphony to your ears because he's home.

and finally, the sound of those three words—smooth as butter rolling off his tongue effortlessly, a hurricane crashing and splashing against you, three strings lifting you off your feet and soaring into the clouds, green eyes and rosy cheeks pulling your heart strings, sweet sugar crystals floating from his lips to yours—"i love you."

physically, he's gone, probably off writing another album, undoubtedly doing much better than you are. maybe he's even moved on, cuddled up into another woman's side, whispering things in her ear, tangled up in her sheets.

but in every other way imaginable, he's still with you.

five senses, five million memories.

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