#How is Emmet doing? Not good either

[takadanobaba]

▲ Ingo's 2 Heart Event ▲

As always, thank you to @xdoctorsparklex for drafting the script for me to code in!

This event expands on a line from part 3 of the Subway to Stardew introduction events! Pierre upcharges them. Drama ensues.

[critterbitter]

hihihi this came to me in a vision

do you think that after litwick evolves into a chandelure when ingo’s an adult her sass becomes a protective sass

like ingo stays up late doing paperwork and she’s like “you better go to sleep or i’ll nibble on your soul until it makes you” type of way

ps i love how you draw them and characterize them i spin them in my brain like theyre in the microwave

Yes!! Chandelure’s a ghost pokemon, which means they get… funny over time. (Personal headcannon— ghost pokemon are not meant to stay in the living world for long. They usually disperse and fade over a few years— but ghost pokemon with a focus, either that be a trainer or place, can last for decades.)

Chandelure’s heavily bonded to ingo (and by extension, emmet). This means she has full access to a variety of truly sick roasts. (Unfortunately for her, ingo at this point has fully matured into a sarcastic shithead. The two stand on equal ground haha.)

And can’t forget Emmet and Eelektross! The two spoil each other.

This takes place probably during their first few years as Subway Masters, where there’s a huge overhaul of the tunnel system (I like to imagine the subway tunnels of Nimbasa get… twisty, space wise. Their first few months are spent literally just clearing out the ghost pokemon and rerouting trains to avoid traffic.)

Good thing the twins have their trusty starters to keep things moving. Here for my submas masterpost!

[gogo-gogurtman]

Oh, Darling of Mine!

Do you want to know what’s it like to have the Subway Masters crush on you? How they’d act when they catch a glimpse of you in the crowd? It was about time Cupid’s arrow struck these workaholic train men!

👉 Contains: SFW fluff, separate headcanons, Ingo x Reader, Emmet x Reader

🌙 I just wanted to write about how giddy the Subway Masters get every time they see their sweetie heart :)

🖤 ▵ 🔲 𝓘𝓷𝓰𝓸 🔲 ▵ 🖤

When love hits Ingo, it takes him a while to realize that these feelings aren’t purely platonic.

It’s either because he’s oblivious or inexperienced with romance.

Doesn’t matter though, because when he first starts to feel that pull towards you, he just knows that he always wants to be near you.

Ingo wants to be your friend so bad! But he didn’t know how to ask without it sounding like a business proposal.

Emmet had to ask for him and initiate the friendship. He was so forward with it, too. Ingo nearly pulled the breaks on the conversation because he was so red and flustered over how his brother put him in the spotlight like that.

Ingo thinks you’re cool. Your job? Interesting. Your stories? Pleasant to hear. Your Pokémon? Absolutely stunning and asks if you want to have a group play date.

Despite this all, he still manages to keep that frowny face. It’s kinda uncanny with him speaking nothing but goodness over you while wearing that frown but it’s charming.

Especially in the moments where his eyes softens and the ends of his lips curls upwards. Aren’t you lucky? His cat-like smile was only reserved for his family and close friends.

Every time he catches a glimpse of a color you frequently wear, his head immediately snaps up to see if it was you in the crowd.

His frown somehow deepens when it’s not you.

Ingo is such a gentleman! The type of guy to give you his coat on chilly days, open any doors for you and pull out chairs, keeping you close to him as he navigates through busy areas….

Basically, I’m a believer that’s he’s an old fashioned guy. An odd, old fashioned guy (and we love that <3)

Great man with great life advice. He’s got you when you need them (not for romantic advice lmao)

But like his speech, his advice includes heavy train analogy 🚂

If you’re sensitive to loud noises, he’ll make the effort to lower his voice around you.

Doesn’t realize that half the things he’s done for you can be considered romantic.

He really hopes that you will challenge the battle lines! If you make it to his cart, he would shower you and your team with loud praises and show you his best self when battling.

Ingo would even research your preferred Pokémon typing and interests. He’ll even give you advice of some strategies and be an active listener when you talk about your likes.

He would start to offer you potions and berries.

For a while, he puts up this friendly and professional front. He doesn’t want you to think less of him if you see his mask slip.

Like many, I headcanon him as the older twin, so he does harbor insecurities such as bottling his emotions to appear more “reliable” and feeling like it’s expected of him to make sacrifices for everyone.

If you offer him your shoulder to cry on and give him promises of being there for him, he would feel so relieved. It would touch him to know that you don’t mind him without his mask.

Mans so stiff. But he would like to slow dance with you.

He gets caught up in that daydream every time he catches the speakers playing classical or love songs at the station.

Keeps mental tabs on your favorites. Window shopping for Ingo will never be the same (He once stood outside of a display for twenty minutes debating whether or not he should get you an item he’d think you’d like.)

You’re just his favorite person (that isn’t his brother or Elesa)

As his feelings for you grow, he will call you by your name less and start picking up nicknames like “Dear” and “Dearest”. He did, on one occasion before confessing, let a “sweetheart” slip out. When you caught that, Ingo was not looking at you as he was busy hiding his red face behind his hat.

The day Ingo realized that friends shouldn’t be this affectionate and that he liked you, it hit him like a train.

Though, he accepted it quick, and changed tracks so he can see if there was a chance that you’d feel the same.

But by that point, his love for you grows to be too much. His heart yearns for yours, his soul aching to merge the tracks of life with yours.

With a pleasant restaurant marked down for later and his brother giving him a supportive slap on the back, Ingo faces you and in his own, loud, conductor-esque way, tells you how much he loves you. Do you feel the same?

🤍 ▿ 🔳 𝓔𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓽 🔳 ▿ 🤍

Love? Ha. No.

He acknowledges that you’re attractive. He acknowledges that he may harbor a crush on you.

But the minute Emmet feels his crush solidifying into an infatuation, he’s at war. He’s in denial about that.

Emmet loves to see your face, especially your smile with matching bright eyes.

He tries extra hard to be the main reason for your smile.

If you battle, most likely every time he sees you he’ll demand a battle. Get those handy dandy potions ready because he is still not going easy on you.

If anything, Emmet goes all out on your battles. An excuse to show off his skills and Pokémon. But if you lose, he doesn’t get in your face about it. He would praise both you and your Pokémon’s efforts and share some battling advice. He would also offer you potions and berries.

A favorite of his is spending time with you talking about strategies and both of your Pokémon teams. Think of all the combinations! Emmet would still enjoy it if you just listened to him as well.

Emmet also likes listening to you too! Your rambles are verrrry interesting!

Definitely look into your interests in his free time. He wants to be the best conversation person!

Also, gossip bestie. He likes a good gossip session 💅

Somehow, he always manages to spook you when he suddenly appears at your side. For someone with long strides, he’s pretty quiet.

It’s just that every time he spots you in the crowd, he immediately b-lines towards you. One time, it took Ingo ten minutes to realize that Emmet wasn’t walking with him anymore and had stop to talk with you.

Has a tendency to drag you around when he’s excited. Doesn’t realize it until you say something and completely do a 180. AKA, he completely removes himself from you and pretends that nothing happened.

Mans got a bad case of cuteness aggression. Why??? Are??? You??? so??? CUTE????

Replays your conversations in his head all day. Files any important details away in his mind for safe keeping. Emmet also tends to daydream about future conversations and how to wow you.

On that topic, also daydreams about successfully sweeping you off your feet.

He would like very much to go on different outings with you. It also just be a simple walk and it’s be enough for him.

When he gets offered sweets, instead of saving them for his brother, he would now offer them to you if you’d enjoy confectioneries (Ingo cannot know about this betrayal)

His signature smile does get a bit wobbly and rosey when he interacts with you.

Emmet also teases you. It can be by flirting or playful jabs. He likes to see all the expressions he can pull from you.

He’s very physically affectionate. Squishing your cheeks, full on hugs that squeezes the air out of your lungs, doing that hold holding thing where he swings your intertwined hands to match his strides.

Emmet would also respect it if you didn’t want to be touched. Last thing he wants to do is to make you uncomfortable.

You need an opinion? Emmet is as blunt and honest as an old woman. He will say that outfit does not look right and save you from a wardrobe malfunction. But he will tell you when something looks great.

His compliments are straightforward, you may end up with a red face.

His brutal honesty is also good for snapping you out of delulu land. He really doesn’t intend on making you feel bad, he just wants to help.

He doesn’t tell anyone, but when his feelings grow genuine, he has self-deprecating thoughts over how this friendship is an elaborate cruel prank of yours.

You can’t possibly enjoy his presence that much. Doesn’t he get annoying? Doesn’t he get too rude or too pushy with battles? Doesn’t his train talk get tiring?

Emmet thinks of himself as the weirder one of the twins. There’s not a lot of people approaching them with a genuine friendship, much less with him.

As the younger brother, he tends to downplay his misfortune and shut himself out when he’s going through something. He doesn’t want to add on any more burdens to Ingo.

But with you, you make him feel safe to act like himself. You make sure to let him know that he doesn’t need to cut out parts of himself to make you enjoy his company.

After hearing that, he decided that he can’t have you disappear from his life. You’re verrry important to him, now.

The Joltiks, man. You will find some stowaways on you, either by their own choosing or Emmet planting them on you.

Gets more starry eyed if you baby them like he would. The Joltiks are a testament to see if you’re a Real One.

Affectionately would call you “Dear”, “Darling”, or when you two are dating, “Baby”.

Emmet likes upbeat music. When he hears it, he feels like dancing. He imagines dancing with you and swinging you around and around.

Your giggles would be music to his ears. Don’t be shy now, he wants to hear how happy you are with him.

At some point, he comes to terms with the fact that he’s fallen in love with you. You, his friend that doesn’t shame him for being himself and being his rock.

There was no planning, no prolonging when he realizes this. Because when the two of you are enjoying a moment together, Emmet holds you close and tells you he loves you.

His pretty darrrling, would you like to be his?

[nartothelar]

I just had a thought while thinking about your possession au.

So I know you posted some joke art about Ingo confronting a Zoroark acting as his (possessed) brother, but what if the Zoroark WAS trying this time.

So imagine ; Ingo with maybe Lady Sneasler and Irida walking through the Alabaster Icelands, and they get confronted with a Zoroark. It takes Emmet's form and starts terrorizing Ingo, taunting him with "You'd never hurt me!" and everything F!Emmet said before.

And Irida watches as Ingo, her cool and collected if a tad lost warden just... shrink back in fear.

Now just about any sane person would be afraid of a Zoroark, but she can tell that this is MUCH more than just that. This is *personal*. He normally never hesitates fighting Zoroarks when they take the forms of others, but this time he is terrified of hurting the man behind the illusion, and of the man himself.

Judging from everything the illusion of Emmet is shouting (even illusions and how they behave have *some* truth to them), and the way Ingo is terrified, she deduces that maybe the place or family Ingo originally came from wasn't ideal, to say the least. Ingo frantically telling Irida that he loves his supposed abuser only reaffirms her concerns.

Eventually, this becomes somewhat of an open secret among both clans that Ingo's 'man in white' is, to say the least, not good. And how is Ingo supposed to dispute that? He loves this person, and he vaguely feels protective of him, but he also feels afraid whenever he think of him.

Cue Emmet somehow getting into Hisui.

For some extra angst, he took care of his F!Emmet situation, somehow. (Maybe when they both went to Dialga to go to Hisui, he went 'wait a moment, you're not supposed to be there' and separated them)

Naturally, when Irida finds out that the man in white is actually here, she panics. Everyone tries to a. Keep Emmet from finding out Ingo is even here (which doesn't work, he came here KNOWING Ingo is here so he can tell everyones lying to him), b. Know Emmet's location at all times, so that c. They can steer Ingo in the opposite direction of where Emmet is, for his own safety until they can either get Emmet to go back to where he came from, or do some (incredibly biased) investigation.

Cause Sinnoh help them if Emmet IS actually as bad as they suspect, cause if he is even half as good as Ingo, then the amount of people who could potentially stop him can he counted on one hand.

Sure, he SEEMS nice if a tad intense, worrying about his brother, but who's to say he's not just a good actor?

I dunno, maybe the climax is Emmet finding Ingo but the Ingo protection squad (consisting of Irida, Sneasler, etc.) is keeping him back and throwing the not completely baseless accusations at Emmet, him saying "hey I was possessed by a future alternate version of myself, but hes gone now I swear" ("well that's awfully convenient"), and Ingo has NO IDEA what do to (cause he said that once, didn't he? He said that the thing was gone, but then it wasn't, so he has no idea if he can fully trust him or not).

OR, F!Emmet arrives still in Emmet's body and just starts tearing through everything to find Ingo. He's an unstoppable force that will not stop until he finds his brother. And he is nearly everything that Zoroark showed Irida. They are desperately trying to keep Ingo away from him, to no avail.

What're your thoughts on this? Do with all this what you want, and thanks for reading my rant.

OK SO THIS WOULDN'T BE CANON PER SAY (more like an offshoot au?) BUT SOME INTROSPECTION ->

so i might have explored this very idea in a couple of discord dms! but for the most part, yes, ingo would be very much scared of the man in white/the zoroark since his last days with emmet were very much tainted with future emmet's influence, but i wouldn't say f!emmet went so far as to abuse him - emotionally torment for sure tho. still, ingo would very much react, even with amnesia, with a sense of fear and apprehension to seeing him. mixed and very confusing feelings

when emmet does finally get to ingo in hisui in the actual au, him and his future self has actually teamed up (as the last installation suggests). that isn't to say emmet is angry at his future self (bc he is FURIOUS even now at how his future self treated ingo and made the last few weeks he had with his sibling so miserable for everyone) but they have a sort of ceasefire since they want the same thing rn

but similar to your ask, ingo doesn't react positively. he still doesn't remember much but he knows that: 1) he knows this figure and that he is someone important to him 2) does not want any harm to come to him 3) he, for the life of him, is scared of him. the clan is rightfully ultra suspicious of them and maybe puts him on watch (and maybe subjecting him to various interrogative talks to get him to explain everything) that the emmets accept without much fight -> f!emmet feeling extremely guilty for what he has done and believes he deserves the treatment/deserves to not be forgiven + emmet knows that the clan is protecting his brother and can't fault them for handling the way they do

f!emmet and emmet both have a lot of work to do if they want things to go back to the way they were, if they even can

BUT YEAH VERRRRRRRY LONG RAMBLE BUT VERRRY INTERESTING NONETHELESS SKSKK

[physalian]

7 Misused Tropes (And How to Improve Them)

Tropes in isolation aren’t inherently bad, but a lot of them are prone to poor execution. Each one of these probably could have a whole post by themselves. A few of these used to be good but have since fallen by the wayside as their original meaning has been lost.

7. Dramatic Miscommunication

You know the ones. I think it’s worse when the story is otherwise good, the writers just could not come up with a better way to get X alone or send Y off on the necessary side quest than the lowest of low hanging fruit.

Two essential ingredients for fixing this trope: Precedent and consequences

Precedent–have the character doing the missassuming already be prone to jumping to conclusions, already suspicious or insecure, or misled by a third party so this looks inevitable, instead of pulled out of your ass.

Consequences–usually these are big blow up fights that fizzle out without any impact on the plot once they fulfill their purpose, but if it’s a nasty enough fight, characters shouldn’t just forgive and forget. While they might not completely ruin relationships, it should have characters taking a step back and either second guessing where they stand, or using this blowup to fix an underlying issue in said relationship.

6. Love Triangles

Good Love Triangle for the first 3 seasons: Elena/Stefan/Damon (TVD).

Bad Love Triangle for the entire series: Bella/Edward/Jacob (Twilight).

The difference between them (besides time to flesh out both candidates) is that both brothers brought valid pros and cons to Elena’s life, both got the chance to be with her, and Elena’s whole arc wasn’t solely focused on the agonizing choice of which brother she should pick. Regardless of which camp you’re in, Stefan brought stability, that classic cliché high school romance, mostly all good vibes. He never challenged her or talked down to her or got aggressive with her. Damon did the opposite, for better or for worse, and we know which direction the show went.

On the other hand, Jacob never for one second stood a chance with Bella and the narrative wasn’t kidding anyone. They never so much as went on one date (unless you count the motorcycle ride) and it seemed like Bella was only letting him hang on for pity’s sake. Theoretically he brought pros to the table that Edward couldn’t (like, idk, being alive), but the narrative never explored what could be done with him. He just ended up being the Nice Guy friend who then decided it’d be hot to lust after an infant.

5. Agency-less Chosen Ones

These tend to be wish fulfillment characters that bring nothing to the story and have no discernible skills, yet are constantly in the middle of the action, have all the love interests fawning over them, and are Important and Critical to saving the world… because the narrative said so. They don’t make a single choice the entire plot except to move forward or stagnate, chosen by the gods or a prophecy or fate and destiny.

The problem: These characters walk with the crutch of “I’m the chosen one thus I don’t need a reason to exist in the story” and that’s just not a satisfying narrative shortcut. So? Give them agency. Even if they’re chosen by some ancient prophecy, you still have to convince the reader why the Universe wasn’t just talking out of its ass.

Good example: Emmet from Lego Movie literally says he’s useless and has no skills and cannot think outside the Lego box. He’s supposed to be as generic as painfully possible and when he does have creative ideas, they’re supposed to be asinine and stupid. And yet. He might be physically dragged around by the other characters, but he has plenty of choices, plenty of opposition to what’s happening, plenty to say about the state of his world, and his ideas do matter and his intimate knowledge of the instructions and playing by the rules is how they win.

4. Bad Boy Love Interests

These guys were supposed to be counter-culture icons, standing up to The Man for the little guy because he knows the system is broken and rigged. He’s an affront to the stereotypical nuclear lifestyle, he resents a robotic and soulless office job and wants to create art or music or in some way benefit his world and isn’t going to play nice just to get his way. He exists in contrast to the nuclear female protagonist: Conservative, demure, rule-following caged bird who falls in love with him because he shows her that life isn’t meant to be lived in The Man’s cage. He respects the authority that deserves respect, the teachers who actually give a shit, the janitors, the librarians, but probably not the principal or the police or the local politicians, because he knows they don’t respect him and respect is a two-way street. He’s probably a mama’s boy or at the very least loves his parents (if they’re alive) and while he might engage in a little property damage like graffiti, it’s for a good cause.

This dude is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE: Abusive, controlling, aggressive, or condescending to his love interest. He’s not supposed to be an overprotective stalker or plagued by insecure jealousy over any other man in his love interest’s life. He’s not rude to his friends or arrogant about his own smarts and doesn’t think he knows best about every little thing in the world. He’s not sexist or racist just to make himself feel better and he doesn’t pressure his love interest into sex because she owes him or whatever.

Ahem.

Please bring back classic bad boys. That is all.

3. Major Character Death (for shock value)

I remember the implosion of the Walking Dead fandom after they killed Carl, one of the very few characters who was supposed to make it to the end, for… various sketchy reasons and I could never figure out what was true. Some theorized that his actor was aging out of the ‘child actor’ payscale and they didn’t want to pay him as an adult and while I have no proof, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Carl died after getting bit in just one of those hectic moments where he got unlucky, while doing something noble and stupid. In isolation, it fits the nature of the “anyone can die” show but man did it just come across in poor taste.

Obviously “for shock value” shouldn’t be the reason you do anything in your story but there is still a way to pull it off without it causing a riot: Make sure they get killed in a non-contrived way. If you plan on killing off one of your heroes suddenly, either make it bitterly ironic, or make it a situation that this character would absolutely get themselves into. The more it “fits” the less likely audiences will see the hand of the author coming in just to break the character’s fictional contract.

2. The Power Inside You All Along

This trope is usually disappointing because it tends to melt a character’s whole arc down into something pointless—this whole adventure was apparently useless if they didn’t actually need to grow or change or challenge their conceptions of the world. They could have got up off the couch as joe shmoe and beat the villain day one.

While that’s probably not what their creator intends, ‘it was inside you all along *wink*’ tends to feel that way, as it discourages internal conflict. Usually, their creator is likely trying to convey the message that one need not change, that it’s what’s inside them already that makes them special.

I present to you once again Kung Fu Panda’s “there is no secret ingredient” i.e. “the power inside you”. The difference is. Po still has plenty of internal conflict: his own self-confidence. He begins the movie eager but inexperienced and a bit oblivious, fanboying it up around his heroes. He and Shifu both insult his weight and his lacking kung fu skills, and his arc is learning self-confidence, learning how to use his weight and the body he has to fight in a way that the villain isn’t prepared for, to where Po can shit-talk him to his face during the final fight.

Most failures of this trope don’t bother exercising their protagonist. They’re pissy and resistant for the entire story and only win when the narrative agrees they were right all along. Therefore, no change, no conflict, no resolution.

1. Strong Female Characters

So many of these read like "slapped boops on a male character". They don’t work for many reasons (usually being very preachy with their agendas), but they especially don’t work when by trying to be pro-feminist, they’re still reinforcing masculine standards. A lot of people, when Captain Marvel came out, said “you didn’t have any issues with Tony Stark being an asshole but now you do when he’s a woman” which. No.

Tony was an asshole, but being an asshole was the whole point of his character, and he got humbled right quick by getting blown up and held hostage. “Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart” and all that.

Carol was an asshole with nothing to substantiate it, and never got a reality check. She had amnesia so we didn’t get insight into who she was before to understand this transition into dickishness and was so OP, she wasn’t ever physically or emotionally challenged like Tony was.

But the other thing is this: Slapping boobs on a male character with a slew of toxic masculine traits also says that to be a successful woman, you must behave like a man. It swings so far from the femme fatale sexy leg lamp that it comes around and eats its own tail. These characters are just mean and insecure and build themselves up by tearing down the men around them.

So. Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph is this exact trope done extremely well. She’s aggressive, arrogant, loud, rude, and cynical. For about 10% of her arc. The movie immediately throws her into a situation where her strengths are basically useless—she’s stuck in Candy Land and has to rely on someone who is the antithesis of her game and character to make it out. The movie also shows you why she’s cynical via her tragic backstory.

Not only that, she’s more than just a heap of toxic masculinity in a pixie cut. She laughs, she cries, she admits when she’s wrong, she has a soft side, a gentle side, a caring side, and remains a badass through and through.

Or, once again rolling out Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Proud, aggressive, the snubbed chosen one, cynical, mean, and overconfident in her abilities. Tigress nearly gets her entire team killed in her arrogance. She’s allowed to be wrong, very wrong. She also has her soft moments and, like Calhoun, has a very valid reason for being jaded, and is still shown to be capable of softness and nurturing during the evacuation.

Third example to hammer home that I don’t hate badass women: Andromache. Jaded, overconfident, short-tempered, aggressive, and a little mean-spirited. Tragic explanatory backstory? Check. She is also caring and loyal to her team, allowed to get emotional, allowed to be wrong and fail and lose, and kind of the surrogate mom of the team, who can also laugh and joke around and have light-hearted moments.

Whether the character is a man or a woman, being an arrogant asshole who takes zero accountability and refuses to admit when they’re wrong and never loses, audiences aren’t going to like them.

[kyrithenerd]

Heyyy would you do Emmet Cullen headcannons part 2?

HeLLOoo! Ofc <3.

EMETT CULLEN HEADCANONS 2!

«★-------------------------------------------★»

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He lets you put bows on his biceps then flexes them

He gives off girl's dad vibe for me. If you guys have a girl, or with Renesmee. He dresses up in the fairy suits, plays princess with her., the tea parties the whole nine yards.

Hes just generally good with kids, that migtht be bc he had a lot of younger siblings when he was human.

He wears leather jackets everywhere and since hes 6'5 and a jacked guy in general so he looks scary. He was anxious about following you at first (Edawrd gave him that brilliant advice) since he didnt want to spook you or anything. Em generally gave up on that tactic and just went up to you in gym class.

I mentioned in the first part that he can get jealous. He covers it well, until Edward or Jasper tell him someone likes you, then he gets a little posessive.

"Look, bud, not to be a dick or anything but youre eyeing my girlfriend there so i suggest youd love to stop before i help you stop, how about that?" or something like that

Hes not big on alcohol, since her cant get drunk, but drinks with you and your friends if you want him to.

He plays drums, i just see him doing that ;)

Emmett is a dog person, and you can't convince me otherwise- I can imagine him having a border collie or akita, even maybe a smaller dog while he bought you a doberman

"Honey, I choose this puppy for you bc now its cute, pretty and fierce like you" or some other cheesy stuff.

Other than honey I can see him calling you "babe'" too, but not that often.

I headcanon his room to be more of a rustic vibe but mixed with modern things. Pine furniture, maybe even wood-boards on the walls, but in general black, dark green (like the trees outside), and other similar colors. He has a queen sized bed. He always had, not just after you got together.

Its canon that he went to college for a lot of things but nevr finished any of his degrees, and I can see him studying interior design.

He's not a neat freak but his room isnt messy either.

I can see him beaing a gamer? I mean he gives off the vibes. GTA, maybe COD, Destiny... but at the same time if you ask him to play Stardew Valley or SIms with him, he will. (or whatever youre into)

In Stardew Valley, he insists on getting married to you, the townies are not even an option when you guys first play

(at the second or third time he DEFO goes for Hailey.)

HE RUNS A TUMBLR OR OTHER KIND OF BLOG ABOUT THE PEOPLE IN SCHOOL.

Hes on the school football theme

His teammates are dating cheerleaders so he gets all the gossip of the popular kids, and since Edward is a mind reader, he gets even more. Aaaand Emmett is childish enough to post allat somewhere

Until he gets caught and Carlise gets called into the school (i can make a oneshot of that if requested)

He hates chemistry. Idc i just see him hating it

This man DIES for little kisses, like not even on the lips. If you just kiss his forhead or something he'll melt.

He watched Nosferatu in the 1920's, so when he got turned into a vampire his expectations were a little different.

Hes's definetly a crime show fan.. The mentalist, Castle, NCIS, CIS: Las vegas.. Yes.

If you're an artist, other than being facinated, he asks you to teach him.

He bought his jeep for himself with a loan when he was in collage and when he realized he needed to pay that back he "drowned" and "the body was never found". He told Carlise he payed off his loans and when Edward found out with his gift he made him SWEAR that he won't tell anyone...

Edward accidentaly told Jazz, who told Alice.. and when Carlise found out he was MAD. (he has wayy too strong morals)

Smuggled drugt at some point for the thrill in the 70's.

He was a HUGE Queen fan, and around '79 he met them (and went partying with them). He was so fasinated by the drummer, Roger Taylor that he picked up the instrument too.

Gifted you a necklace with the coven's logo on it for your first aneversary as a symbol of you being family

He's closer to Esme that Carlise (since he pisses Carlise off a lot)

HE IS BIGFOOT AND THE YETI. Im sorry but I can see him dressing up and doing that as a hobby back when they lived in Alaska and Canada.

He had a dog named Scooby-doo at some point of his life.

He reads Marvel comics.

OKII THATS ALL FOR TODAYY!!

[parasolladyansy]

Howdy there again ^^

Say wanted to ask... not trying to pry but... if you guys ever did runs for ansy and ikrit in alola... what starters would you two both pick?

Oh, and for the sake of asking... when it comes to making stories that are pokemon and trainer focused ,like most stories are, how do you usually go about your pokemon choices... other than for types or team combos and stuff.... I feel like you have answered this before... but i just had to ask

I'm making my own original stories with specific ideas and headcanons and I would love to hear more ideas from another creative

*also it me the guy who asked about ishi before*

Hi again!

So. Kinda off-topic, kinda not. >u> I REALLY wanted to like Moon / Ultra Moon. I have some ties to Hawaii on my mother’s side, & a lot of the Pokémon there seemed interesting. But I (& Ikrit) just couldn’t get into it. I feel like part of it was the lack of a traditional Pokémon League? Either way, didn’t get very far ^^;

On our short-lived runs (plot-wise we joke they just had a short vacay to Alola 🏝️), we actually both picked Popplio - I almost always choose the Water Starter, & it’d be fun to have a Water / Fairy (Rowlet was a very close second, because I also like birds). I feel like plot-wise, trainer-Ikrit would probably choose Litten instead, being a more fitting match =w=

That brings us to the second part of your Ask: it’s the Pokémon we used when we played those games, &/or Pokémon that seem to fit them.

For Sword x Shield, I probably took the most creative liberties for both Ansy & Ikrit’s teams. For Ansy, I combined my Gardener run (where my girl Leafeon, Moss, led the team instead of Rain) with my standard Parasol Lady run. For Ikrit, I added a Lunatone to represent his Hoenn roots as well as his working for a meteoriticist investigating the Wishing Stars.

Meanwhile, Diamond x Pearl REWRITE are our literal teams (for me, my 3rd run - I usually do a practice run where I get the lay of the land & just do what’s natural, then do a more themed run. BDSP needed a third one because I didn’t know Castform was available & I HAD to have Sora!)

Basically, I would observe the teams your trainer uses, what Pokémon you / they are attached to, maybe their trainer class or personal history, all to pick a fitting team for them.

Actually maybe a good example for that is Emmet:

Obviously he can’t his usual team in Sinnoh due to customs (my personal HC on why we can’t have certain Pokémon in certain games), so I had to invent his entire team. I noticed Emmet seems to like Electric, Bug, & Steel types, as well as Fossils going by his Archeops, & like all train worker Classes out there (Depot Agent, Rail Staff, Subway Boss), he’d have at least one digger.

I picked Electivire for him since his yellow fur might’ve reminded him of his precious Galvantula (& Joltiks). His Bastiodon is both a Fossil & a digger. Ingo has a Magnezone in place of his Klinklang, which Emmet has a twin of, so I gave him a Magnezone to match. The rest matches up more with what I observed about him.

So yeah! Hope that answers your question, & I look forward to see what you (or anyone else this helps out) come up with.

—

PS: oh! Editing to add that I also make sure the teams are still viable in battle with the help of some Pokémon team builders. My favorite was Marriland, but there’s a bug that happens whenever I use it now that crashes the site. If anyone has an alternative that works just as well up to Gen 9, pls lemme know! ^o^

[wutheringcaterpillar]

“You Know I Got It, Come and Get It.”

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Emmett x College!Reader

Summary: A struggling girl walks into a bar looking to drown her sorrows, only for a man to notice her distress, insisting on showing her a good time that turns into something more that neither expected.

Warnings: Slow build, fwb to lovers, oral (f & m receiving), road head, unprotected sex, squirting, p in v, age difference (reader is 21), public sex, daddy kink, praise, happy ending, Emmett is divorced with joint custody, cigarettes

After a long, tiring day of work Emmet found himself at the local bar, having a drink to relinquish the stress from the day.

Two of his men had quit, leaving the project that was supposed to be done today unfinished, but Emmett wasn’t one to complain. Yeah the shit irritated him but, another day, another dollar was his motto for life. He’d just have to finish it himself.

The shuffling of the bar stool caught Emmett’s attention, glancing to the side he saw you, a distraught woman ordering a shot of Jameson and a smirnoff’s. He couldn’t help but notice the way your denim shorts rode up your ass cheeks, and the way your cleavage was nearly falling from the spaghetti strap, black tank top you had on.

The first word that came to his mind when he saw you was hot, but he kept to himself.

You looked rather young to be ordering drinks, so he waited for the bartender to check your id, settling his eyes back on the baseball game, sipping from his budweiser.

When the bartender served you your shot, he knew that he had to indulge in conversation, at the very least see what was going wrong with your night. 

“Rough night?” His voice was gruff but casual, you were rummaging through your purse, looking for a hair tie but oh how he liked your hair down.

The soaked mess and the water droplets dripping down your chest into your cleavage.

You had delicate facial features, plump lips that were glossed, sparking in the dim bar light even.

He couldn’t help but picture your body naked and in unspeakable positions underneath him.

You attempted to respond to the stranger still looking through your belongings.

“Yeah, yeah my boyfriend dumped me off around the corner cause I caught him cheating. I’ll tell you men aren’t shit no offense.” He chuckled, ordering another beer as he finished his off.

“None taken but a true man doesn’t leave his woman in the the pissing rain, no matter what happened. Besides if you ask me he sounds like a bitch that doesn’t know a good thing when he’s got it.” Downing your shot, Emmett didn’t know if he was turned on or scared when you didn’t recoil from the harsh liqour, perhaps both.

When you finally turned to him, his angelic blue eyes placed a trance on you, and the scruff of his beard. Maybe he had a point, it wasn’t men that were your problem it was boys.

Pursing your lips in interest, and narrowing your eyes in on him, you leaned in close, your lips just brushing by his ear.

“Oh yeah? And how would you know?” Emmett smirked in his seat, turning the stool ever so slightly your way, putting on the most devious yet charming smile.

“Cause sweetheart, I was a boy once. To me you need some liquid healing, why don’t I buy your next drink, maybe play a game of pool? The name’s Emmett by the way.” Rolling your tongue over your lips playfully, you nodded, but only under one condition were you going to play.

“If I win, I request a dance. A memorable one that I won’t forget, I’m aiming to have fun tonight. Y/N.

“And if I win I get to take you home with me Y/N.” High stakes it was, either way it sounded like a win-win situation. Grinning, you nodded in agreement only when you left the bar to head to the table, the bartender looked at Emmet in bewilderment.

“How’d you do that man? She’s way out of your league, you made it look so easy.” Emmet winked at the guy, pointing his finger making a comment of how you live and you learn the way to a girl’s heart.

Throughout the game a questionnare took place. You learned a lot about the mysterious, good looking man. He was divorced, has two kids with joint custody, he was a private business owner of an entrepreneur company.

When he noticed you not being able to shoot a ball for shit, he came in behind you, his chest pressed closely to your back while his large, veiny hand settled on top of yours.

You couldn’t help but smile mischievously not even listening to the words coming from his enticing lips, instead pushing your ass back against his crotch.

“Darlin’ I don’t think this is the place. Why don’t we go for a drive and talk first hm? After I win this game that is.” Just as he finished his sentence, he shot the eight ball into the hole, not even having to look. But damn those muscles in that white wife beater he was wearing making you salivate, how you wanted that man to bend you over this pool table right now.

Smirking playfully, you followed his suit. He retreived his denim jacket that was coated in fleece, wrapping the fabric over your shoulders as he tried to shield you from the pouring rain.

You were in disbelief to see what kind of truck he drove. It was black, shiny, tall with four door, looked brand new. The man had money and it was an understatement to say you were impressed. “This is yours?”

“Yep, all 25 grand of it. Hard work pays off honey.” Opening the door for you, your cheeks burned an amber shade of red. 

Giving you the aux cord, he extended his arm to your seat, flexing his biceps as he looked at the back window to reverse, and continue to fix the wheel with one hand.

Lighting a cigarette before pulling out of the parking lot, offering you one in the process.

Oddly enough, he liked your taste in music, but could tell you wanted to sing, yet you weren’t.

“Don’t be all shy on me now sweet peach. If you wanna blast that and sing your little heart you go right ahead.” Your stomach was swarming with butterflies, becoming all hot and flustered in your seat.

And you did just that as you were told, blowing smoke out of the window, feet up on the dash, while the warm summer breeze blew threw your hair, but never taking away the smile plastered on your face.

For the first time in awhile, you were having spontaneous fun and felt infinite in this moment.

When he was getting closer to his house, Emmett found it wise to address what this was going to be.

“Now, I’m not looking for a relationship, no time for one with work in the kids and I’d rather not deal with the heartache if you catch my drift. But I have a proposal.” Sitting up in your seat, you gazed into his ocean eyes with interest, wanting to hear me. You nodded for him to carry on, flipping your cigarette out the window.

“I don’t like seeing a pretty young girl like yourself upset over some lowlife douchebag who means nothing and you seem like a nice, fun girl.”

“Just nice and fun?” You raised a playful eyebrow at him before trailing your hand up your thigh seductively.

“Well that too honey. Tell you what my place is always open to you when you need a break from life, but I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve been dying to know what that pretty cherry tastes like. If you’re not looking for anything serious, figured it’d be a good deal for the both of us.” He had to say no more, and before he knew it your fingers were fumbling with his belt buckle, taking his length fully down your throat.

Emmett sat there a wide spread smile on his face while his breath hitched in his chest from the sudden warmth around his cock.

He was surprised you could take him so easily, no teeth, gagging or anything.

Your tongue swirled around his shaft, lips puckered around the tip of his cock as your head bobbed up and down slowly at first, wanting him to relish in the moment.

He began to drive more careful, worried of hurting you, though you kept rhythym, sucking him sensationally, hallowing your cheeks, deep throating him without a problem, regardless of the potholes.

Emmett stirred in his seat, attempting to stay focused on the road, only one more mile.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re a natural aren’t you.” He glanced down at a red light, your eyes meeting him while bashing your eyelashes playfully.

A car pulled up in the other lane next to him, seeing the scene and making a disgusted face to which Emmett flipped the guy off, and began to thrust his hips slowly up, needing more. 

When the light turned green, his foot stuttered on the gas making you giggle while your face was stuffed with his rather large member, saliva running down his thighs, making a mess.

Feeling his toes curl, you began to hit that sweet spot repetitively. Picking up the pace your plump lips could feel his dick begin to tighten and swell, his thighs slightly vibrating while the intensity of his orgasm took over him, eventually releasing his seed down your throat.

When you came up, he realized you swallowed his whole load, wiping your bottom lip seductively.

“So how’d I do?” Emmett was left speechless for once in his life, he wasn’t sure he’s ever had head given to him where a girl could take all of his length. If you had to say yourself he was about nine inches, with a heavy girth.

“Oh, you’re going to be trouble.”

Maybe this would work after all.

You imagined a small, run down house with a chain fence and a guard dog but that’s not at all what he owned.

The house had a stone path, flowers and other green plants covering the sides of the sidewalk, the grass was pristinely trimmed. Trees bordering the wooden fenced perimeter, of the large, beige house.

Pulling up into the driveway, seeing your mouth drop open, Emmett smiled, knowing full well that this deal would be worth it.

His house was open to you whenever you desired, every room, every amenity available to you, along with what was in his walllett, in return you gave him the relief he needed. Only thing was, it was a relief for you as well, not requiring the effort of a relationship. No feelings, just sex.

“This is your house?! Who are you?” Exiting the truck, he opened the door for you once more, leading you inside, and giving you a tour.

The living room had a built in aquarium, a plasma screen tv, the kitchen he did himself with a rare stone tile he came across during his time in Canada for a job. 

Then the patio, another project he did himself, with a gazebo, an expensive grill, an outside bar, even an in ground pool that was clearly kept up with, surrounded with a built in deck.

Maybe you should call your ex and thank him for leaving you stranded in the rain.

“Don’t really have friends over other than the Lee’s from time to time and my kids every other weekend. House was a piece of shit when I bought it but trying to fix it up and sell it for good money then move onto the next one. You’re going to have to give me a couple days to make a spare key. But what do you think darlin? We gotta deal?” You looked at him with a playful, mischievous grin before shedding yourself of your clothes, leaving him speechless.

“Oh I think we have a deal daddy.” You ran your finger over his bottom lip seductively, pressing your lips firmly to his in a heated clash before he took you right there on the cool kitchen counter.

Ripping your shorts and panties down your shaved legs, he marveled in your nude body, running a hand down the smooth skin of your back, lightly squeezing your ass cheek.

When his pants dropped and his cock slapped against your sex, you were grinning with anticipation. 

He hadn’t expected for your pussy to look so pretty, and delicate but he knew he was ready to absolutely drown his cock in it.

He ran his shaft teasingly between your already soaked folds, causing you to whimper in desperation and impatience.

“Such a needy little thing aren’t you dear?” Simultaneously, he yanked your head back by your hair, sinking his cock deep inside your aching, throbbing, wet cunt.

The sudden warmth, and tightness taking him by surprise, as the feeling of being so full caused you to moan loudly in pleasure, hands gripping at the surface of the marbled counter.

It had been awhile since Emmett had, had sex, since his divorce a year ago. Never really found the time but seeing your ravishing body on display for him, stuffed with his thick cock turned him into an animal that he forgot lived inside him.

Sending a hard, powerful slap to your ass cheek, he began thrusting into your soaked pussy, watching the entire length of his dick disappear in you, as his balls dlapped against your skin.

His breath was hot against your neck, as he panted harmonious moans in your ear.

“Fuck darlin’ I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last seeing you bent over, taking me so well like this.” 

In a quick motion, you turned stopping him and as if he read your mind, he picked you up effortlessly, and slammed your ass cheeks down on the counter before inserting his lengthy member.

“Oh fuck, daddy! Harder!” He didn’t want to bresk you but he did as you asked.

Drilling into your cunt relentlessly, watching your boobs shake up and down with such velocity.

His lips connected with yours once more, tongues colliding in a battle for dominance, deepening with each kiss.

You smacked your head against the cupboard but didn’t care as he devoured your neck, marking his territory, while you locked your ankles around his back.

The scruff of his beard tickled your skin as he sucked on your skin, like his life depended on it. When he found that sweet spot deep in your core, your eyes fluttered shut, none of the men in your past never findind it before.

He pressed down on your stomach with his free hand, knowing that it helps the process for women to orgasm, as the head of his cock prodded rhythymically against your cervix.

“Em-daddy I-oh fuckk- I feel like i’m going to piss myself maybe we should-. He pulled himself away from your neck, wanting to see that pretty little face break from how much he was pleasuring you.

With each aggressive thrust, and each passing second you felt like you were going to piss but with Emmett’s experience he knew that wasn’t the case.

“Trust me darlin, that ain’t piss. Just let go.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper, but sounded more like a moan. You winced, feeling so full and stretched, until Emmett hit that sweet spot just at the right moment, causing you to gasp and cling to his chest, nails digging into his back. Your toes curled, eyes rolling toward the back of your head as in a split second moment, a feeling of ecstacy, and adrenaline rushed through your veins. 

Gently he pushed you back, sapphire eyes fixated on you delicate, fucked out face, before scanning down, watching your sweet syrup absolutely drown his torso.

“Daddy!” Your thighs were twitching, back arching, as your chest rose and fell at a tremendously fast pace. You felt completely at his mercy, entranced in the man’s face, wanting to remember who made you feel this way, who the first man was to make you cum.

Within seconds Emmett was bursting at the seams, lips dropping subtly agape, moaning loudly with such lust as he emptied his seed into your raw, aching pussy.

You were almost too stunned to speak, needing to catch your breath as you weary head collapsed on his toned chest.

Reaching for the paper towels next to the sink, he wiped himself off, chuckling and smirking.

“Too rough honey?” You shook your head against him, still trying to come down from your high, your thighs weak and still twitching.

Picking you up and carrying you like a baby, he lead you up the stairs to the bedroom, laying that pretty little head down to rest.

“I-I didn’t know I was capable of doing that.” Pulling the blankets up and sliding in next to you, he pulled you close, laying a kiss to your temple as you drifted off into a deep slumber.

In the following weeks, the bills began to add up, your car insurance, loan, phone bill, medical pills, the college debt, you were struggling financially and wanted to cry.

Emmett showered you in gifts, but you were reluctant to tell him about the piling debt, not wanting to seem like you were taking advantage of him and risk losing the on going pattern of having amazing sex all over the house, occasionally in public. 

Mostly it was also the romantic dinners, the way he cared about how your day went, how he was protective of you in public, never letting you walk on the side of the sidewalk near the road, opening doors for you. What if this would ruin it all?

Closing your car door, you headed straight to Emmett’s house, not knowing where else to go. Knocking impatiently, not wanting the neighbors to see you weep, you propped up your hoodie, hiding any evidence of the apparent tears.

Opening the door before he didn’t even have the chance to say anything when you swooshed past him, heading straight for the sofa, burying your head in the pillow, holding back tears.

Emmett sighed, remembering back to the days of being a student, the debt being too much that he dropped out, luckly being smart enough to know how to form and run a business.

Walking toward you, he crouched down to your level, elbows resting on his knees.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” You continued to weep, at a loss for words. Yes Emmett offered you money anytime you were over but this was too much and you were frightened that he’d cut you off for asking.

When you didn’t speak, he brought his hand up stroking the silly strands of your hair caringly, whispering sweet nothings to get you to talk to him.

Eventually rising your head, he wiped away those pretty little tears, eyebrows raising expectantly waiting for an answer.

“I-I can’t afford my car payment this month, and if I don’t pay I-“ Emmett stopped your sobbing, scopping you up and sitting you right down on his lap.

“Why didn’t you just tell me sweetheart? You know you’re stressing for no reason. Remember our arrangement?” You nodded through your troubled eyes, looking up at Emmett who you could tell wasn’t fucking around, he was serious.

“Give me the number and i’ll call over and change the card, okay honey?” You nodded, dialing the number as he pulled out his wallet.

The man really gave you anything you needed and want just to be able to have sex with you, though you weren’t going to tell him you’d be willing to for free.

He nodded off toward the upstairs, whispering that there was already a towel and washcloth set out for you along with rose scented bath salts per your request.

Mouthing thank you, you gleefully pecked him on the lips, undoing your top and disposing of your pants.

He hated to see you leave, but loved watching your hips move, and those voluptuous ass cheeks jiggle as you walked away.

After getting off the phone he sneaked into the bathroom, enjoying seeing your head layed back on a towel, eyes closed, relaxing for once as you should be.

But he had another surprise that was sure to lift your spirits even more. Shedding himself of his clothes, he kept the object held behind his back before submerging himself in the bubble bath on the opposite side of the tub, groaning from the heat relieving his sore knees.

“All taken care of sweetheart, anything else you need covered?” Picking up your head, you smiled softy, shaking your head no and splashing your face with the warm water.

When your eyes opened, Emmett held out his hand, the silver key placed in the middle of his palm, suds of bubbles surrounding the metal object.

“Em! When did you get this?” In a hasty motion, you snatched the key from his hand, grinning like a school girl, thinking of how much you’re going to be coming over when his kids weren’t there.

Though part of you wanted to prod, to ask more questions about his life, maybe something small wouldn’t hurt.

“I know it took longer than expected but I went down to the store when I had the time, knew I promised you one and I’d feel much safer knowing you have a safe spot to go.” He held his poker face, thinking it was best not to get emotions involved and push you away, but his mind was on you even when you weren’t around. He was looking forward to texts, hearing your car pull up, seeing your dazzling face, all of it, and it was starting to frighten him. The thought of losing you was starting to scare him.

The next few weeks you found yourself staying with Emmett nearly four nights a week when he didn’t have the kids. 

He’d given you one of his cards to splurge and treat yourself whenever needed, never giving you a limit. The man worked nearly sixty hours a week by choice, but damn did he love spoiling you and seeing that smile light up your face. He’d grown to learn many of your interests, as you did his.

Starting to get used to you falling asleep in his arms, helping him with side projects without him asking.

Eventually introducing you to the Abbott’s during a backyard BBQ. They were kind people, never even batting and eye at the clear age difference, instead asking questions and seeming interested in your life.  Things were starting to change.

“Fucking thing.” Kicking the air conditioner that was broken, you giggled from where you lay on the bed, watching him repaint the wall with a paint roller, cigarette from his lips. 

Having an idea, you quietly removed your shit from behind him as he chattered on about all the things he wants to redo in the house, though nothing need it considering it was all brand new.

Unclasping your bra and removing your shorts along with black laced panties you had on. You positioned yourself at the headboard, spreading your legs and running your fingers in between the fold of your heat.

“Daddy?”

“Yes darlin?” When he turned around his eyes sparked with excitement, cigarette falling into the paint but he didn’t have a car in the world.

He was too focused on your breasts hanging freely, the way your fingers were rubbing your soaked heat, seeing the small amount of nectar dripping out from your glorious cunt, landing ontop of one of his astray shirts under you.

Taking a step forward, he closed the distance by burying his face between your thighs, lapping his tongue over you sweet succulency, not minding the smell of sweat on this hot summer day.

His hand slowly slid up your thigh, eventually resting on your breast, cupping the sensitive skin gently as his tongue rotated in agonizingly slow circular motions around your throbbing clit, releasing a desperate mewl from between your lips.

His free hand teased your dripping cunt before submerging deeply into your tight, warm abyss. The sudden intrusion taking you by surprise. His fingers worked at stretching your tight hole while he ate you pussy like it was the last meal he was ever going to have. Sucking sensual kisses on your clit, his tongue gliding and flicking between your folds while his beard rubbed roughly against your smooth skin.

Your hand reached for the metal headboard in a lustful haze, glancing down only to be met with Emmett’s determined, icy eyes as he passionately devoured all of you, his digits curling inside of your tight, drenched pussy, quickening his motions.

His fingers were much bigger than your own and felt so desirably good filling the void in your body.

“Fuck daddy, more- more please.” Your ass grinded down against him, thighs tightening around his head nearly suffocating him in your sex. His beard burning the sensitive skin. Removing his hand from your breast, he squeezed your leg, wanting you to use all the strength you had to keep him locked in, and you did.

Adding another finger, his pace was sending you over the edge, needing to feel your cum on his face. His tongue was licking, and rotating around your clit so fast that it felt like a vibration.

He never once looked away from your fucked out gaze, noticing beads of sweat forming on your chest, snd your back beginning to arch.

“Daddy-Daddy I’m gonna- Oh fuck!” Your ankles were crossed behind his neck, holding his head in place as you fell to crumbles.

Losing all sense of reality, forgetting where you were as waves of pleasure crashed over you body, painting Emmett’s face with your delectable nectar.

When you legs loosened, he came up for air, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

Seeing you so weak at the knees, muscles still convulsing from the extraordinary explosion, he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

“Round 2?” Whimpering but also desperate for his cock to be subermerged inside of you.

Panting you allowed him to pull you up from your fragile, tired position on the bed, leading you out the sliding glass door onto the balcony facing the backyard.

“Isn’t someone going to see?”

“Well that’s the appeal of it, risk of getting caught, now lemme see that sweet ass.” 

Pulling down his pants, he bent you over the balcony, stretching your cheeks apart to see that eager, throbbing cunt, still drained from just minutes ago, before fully impaling you with his cock in one swift motion.

If it weren’t for his nails digging into the sides of your hips, you were sure you would have fallen over the cool metal railing that was digging into your torso.

The warm breeze mixed with the adrenaline of possibly someone seeing the private act made you all the more turned on. Your walls tightened around him, your clit sore from being overstimulated as he clutched your ass cheeks, slamming into you relentlessly, the sweat building between your warm bodies. If Emmett was sure of one thing it was that you had the tightest, unstretched pussy he’d ever been in, and fuck was he grateful that you found him as attractive as he found you.

Placing his hands on both side of your head on the rail, he closed the gap between you, his dick as far in your kaleidoscope trench as possible, while he leaned in, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear.

“Look at you, taking my cock so good baby girl….you’re doing amazing…think you can last?” Shaking your head no, your body was more than tired, rendering you speechless for words. Not wanting to push you too far Emmett quickened his pace, watching your ass ricochet off his torso before shooting his cum up into your overstimulated pussy.

When the semester neared an end, you fretted over losing Emmett now that there were less bills for him to pay, diminshing the original agreement. A part of you, though it was against the rules, was catching feelings for the older, mature man. No guy before has ever treated you with such kindness, or put your needs before his own. He was chivalrous, attractive, caring, and now here you were at his door step nervous to turn the lock and see how this conversation would go.

Walking in the aroma of freshly cooked eggs, and possibly ham filled your senses. Rounding the corner he was in the kitchen, cooking with the table already set for two, along with what looked like to be a present.

“Just in time, food’s about done. Have a seat.” He dished out the breakfast onto the plates, filling the porcelain mugs with steaming coffee.

He glanced down, noticing the nervous habit you had of twiddling your thumbs and shaking your leg. Deep down, he knew what this was about, but he had no intention of ending it anytime soon.

Taking his seat, he folded his hands beneath his chin, nodding toward the present.

“Open it.” He tried to hide his smile behind his hands, excited for you to what he had gotten you.

Removing the gold tissue paper from the bag, you pulled out a medium sized blue square box that read Tiffany’s.

Upon opening it, there lay a beautiful, diamond encrusted necklace, holding your birth stone in a heart shaped locket, with the initials of your name, and birthday engraved on the back of the heart. The diamonds shimmered in the sunlight peering in through the window. You wanted to cry, thinking this could be the last gift and last time you see Emmett.

“Em, this-this is beautiful. How much did you-“

“Don’t worry about it. You deserve it and more. I know your college career is nearing an end, and I just want to address the elephant in the room. There’s one more thing in the bag.” Holding back tears, and reaching further in, you pulled out a pair of car keys.

Looking up at confused, he nodded toward the garage, leading you out to his big surprise.

There sat a brand new car, with tinted windows. In Emmett’s opinion your car was a piece of shit, and you needed a reliable one. There were no holding back the tears anymore.

Gasping in astonishment, Emmett came uo behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head upon your shoulder.

“You like it?” Unable to form words, you simply nodded before turning and nuzzling your head into his neck, forming a puddle on his warm skin, surely staining his shirt. He rubbed circles into your back soothingly, and slowly.

“Honey it’s okay. I’ve been doing some thinking. How would you feel about moving in permanently?” All of a sudden your tears stopped, and your lips curved into a quivering smile, taken by surprise from his offer.

“But-but our agreement-“

“Darlin’ I’d be a fool to let you go, especially with how close we’ve grown together. What do you say?” 

A week later, all of your belongings were moved in, there may or may not have been some sex involved when you saw Emmett carrying the boxes in, not needing a singular hand of help.

Sitting at the table eating dinner together, it finally felt like things were piecing together, but what was next made you nervous.

“So I was thinking, my kids have a baseball game coming up. I figured it’d be a good opportunity for you to meet them. How would you feel about that?” Stopping from chewing, you placed the silverware down onto the glass table, wiping at the sides of your mouth before looking at Emmett hesitantly.

“Oh Em- I’d love to but is their mom going to be okay with it? Nora’s her name right?” He nodded in return, scoffing not really caring what his ex wife would have to say or think about the subject.

“She’ll be fine, besides, she didn’t ask me about them meeting her new husband.”

So it was settled. 

The drive to the game you were consistently asking Emmett questions about them. The food they like, their hobbies, movies, extracurricular activties.

Emmett smiled and couldn’t help but chuckle at how anxious you were, he thought it was cute seeing you take an interest and at the same time freaking out in the passenger seat, but he did his best to answer all your questions before pulling into the lot.

The sight of seeing the Lee’s calmed your nerves immensely, that was until a woman approached you, with who you assumed to be one of Emmett’s son’s.

“Hey buddy!” Emmett swooped the boy up in his arms effortlessly, while Nora ignored your existence. Bidding her som goodbye and handing Emmett an overnight bag, he rolled his eyes at how immature and inconsiderate she could be.

“Daddy I want to sit down.” He nodded, motioning you follow his lead pass the crowd, holding his son with one hand underneath his bum, while clutching your hand with the other

Nora sat on the opposite side of the bleachers, glancing over at you every now and then with hateful, disgusted eyes while his son sat beside you with Emmmett, the Abbott’s not too far from you guys

“Don’t pay her any mind, she thrives off negativity now that she got promoted to CEO of some big, fancy company.” Lee’s wife was always very friendly, and pleasent toward you, wanting to ensure you were comfortable, and always able to come to her for anything. Even giving you advice on how to manage kids since you didn’t have much experience.

When the game came to a break, his other son came forth.

“Guys, I have someone I’d like to you meet, this is Y/N, she’ll be staying with me, and I know she’s been dying to meet you.” Introducing yourself, his sons were very sweet but entirely focused on the game regardless of the break, still chattering on about the score. A lightbulb went off in your head, talking about the time you used to play softball as a kid. Mentioning how you had too many baseball jersey’s, offering them each one from a MLB game you attended a few years ago.

Their eyes lit up and though Emmett was no sap, his heart melted at the conversation, seeing his boy happy and screaming in excitement.

Perhaps this was a start of something new, something worth lasting.

[bellafragolina]

May I request insecurities for submas and warden Ingo? What are they insecure about, and how/when do they tell their partner? How do they respond to comfort once they do?

You got it for sure for sure I love my boys

Also, for context, submas in my headcanons have big noses cause I find that very handsome

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Ingo has his fair share of insecurities regarding who he is as a person as well as how he looks. He’s too loud, he’s strange, he has a big nose, he’s bossy, he’s overly attached but also standoffish, he doesn’t smile. It’s easy to list such things, not that he ever really brings them up unless you either ask or something happens related to one of his insecurities and he feels the need to explain.

Ingo doesn’t really seek out comfort in regard to his insecurities. He’s very much an Older Sibling in the sense where he feels he has to be strong, never faltering, never showing weakness. He also tries to be a strong partner, so him talking about what makes him upset takes some time to whittle out of him.

He only doesn’t hesitate when you admit your own insecurities to him. Ingo doesn’t want you to feel alone, so he sympathizes by admitting some things he worries about too, thus you two can comfort one another together. Brains are strange and can be so mean sometimes, but they don’t know everything. Ingo knows everything about you, though, and he loves every part

When you turn it around on him, cradling his face and swooning over how handsome and amazing he is, Ingo finds it hard to deny you. He blushes and sputters some refutes, but you easily disproven them with kisses to his big nose and ever present frown, with compliments over how reliable and kind he is to his loved ones. Doubts linger, and they never fully go away, but you make Ingo feel good about himself and his idiosyncrasies, and that’s enough

Emmet:

Emmet is a lockbox, never letting slip the things he doesn’t like about himself. He refuses to talk about them because he refuses to really think about them. He ignores his insecurities most of the time, and you only ever get a hint that they’re there when he wrinkles his nose at himself in the mirror or falls silent when someone comments on his strange way of speaking

Emmet is hard to coax into talking about what bothers him. He thinks it doesn’t really matter, cause he likes himself and you and Ingo like him, so there’s no problem. Or there should be no problem. He gets frustrated for still being insecure when he knows he shouldn’t be, but sadly you can’t always just whim away these things. So Emmet ignores them instead.

Where Ingo is Older Sibling, Emmet is Younger Sibling in the sense that he keeps his issues to himself to not overburden Ingo, who already has so many responsibilities as the eldest. They’re twins, but they have their dynamics, and Emmet knows this, so he brushes off any concerns and tries to focus on being happy. And it works somewhat, until the bottle finally shatters from the pressure

When Emmet shatters, he falls into you as a pit of despair. He hates himself, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t, but why does he have to talk this way and walk that way and look like this? Why is he off putting and why do people assume he’s so mean? You cradle his broken pieces, soft comforts and exclamations of love a glue to help him go back together again. He’s nothing short of perfect in your eyes, because Emmet is Emmet, and you love him. And Emmet learns to love that too.

Warden Ingo:

Surprisingly, Warden Ingo is more open to talking about his insecurities than Subway Boss Ingo. Maybe it’s because of his amnesia, or maybe it’s because he’s so lonely that he’s desperate to talk about anything to keep your company that much longer, or maybe it’s a mix of both. But Ingo brings up his worries about himself to you at seemingly random times, confiding in you to hopefully find either comfort or a way to fix whatever it is he doesn’t like (you never fix him, there’s nothing to fix)

Ingo admits to you concerns about his appearance, his big nose and sour expression. He worries about people fearing him, he worries about hurting people because he is naturally too loud. He’s also an outsider, and it makes him very insecure when he can’t act the “correct” way. You also being an outsider makes it easier to feel okay about his weirdness.

When things grow romantic, Ingo starts admitting more worries, concerning his age, if he’s a good partner to have, if you don’t deserve someone better. Luckily it’s easy to drown out these worries with plenty of kisses and loving affection. It’s hard to talk when your head is red as can be, after all.

Now if only he could understand why he feels so uncomfortable by himself, like he should be with someone else, guiding and protecting them. . .

🍓🍓🍓

I hope these are believable! They’re what I think the boys worry about concerning themselves. If only I could kiss those big noses <3

Have a good day!

~Renee

[zephyrrhiesfyrian]

This is a sadder ask so if you don't want to read it, that's okay.

But do you think about the effects on Ingo's body from being Lady Sneasler's warden? Particularly his shoulders.

Mountain climbing gives people broader shoulders, meaning Ingo's shoulders might not fit his coat too good. Not only that but climbing requires manueverbility, something that's will likely be restricted by Ingo's coat. I mean, it looks like it will handle it at first yet Ingo's new shoulders and the thick Pearl Clan tunic/kimino will put stress on the seams. It doesn't seem so big at first until you remember that it is one of the few things that Ingo has from Before.

Also the climbing might have given Ingo hunchback shoulders. If the muscles of the shoulders get too large it gives the person a more hunchback appearance, not just from the size of the muscles but also because it forces the shoulder blades into a different position. There are excercises to help with their issue though I don't think they would be widely known. So Ingo's slouched posture might also be a result of climbing too much.

I just thought this was a little interesting. I know everyone goes "Ingo got buffer" but they don't go into a detail of how it affects him besides he's stronger. Imagine how his only way of survival destroys his memoirs of a different time while fucking up his posture and giving him back pain. He's no longer quite as identical to Emmet any more.

NO BUT I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS TOO

Especially the aspect of him and Emmet no longer being as identical!

Granted, I do think their coats are slightly oversized for dramatic effect, so there's probably a bit of room before it starts getting too tight. I also imagine that Ingo's repaired it whenever it rips or tears too much? At least, if it's ever ripped so much that the repair is necessary.

I don't know if "the Subway twins are autistic" is the common fandom headcanon, but I can't see them as anything other than autistic, and the unwillingness to repair the coat fully/get a new coat that looks similar is something that reads to me as very autistic? It's both a physical reminder of the Before, but also I imagine that Ingo just finds the coat inherently comforting due to the weight/texture/routine of putting it and his hat on.

ON THE TOPIC OF HIS HAT.

Immensely impressive that he's not lost that hat. I fear what would happen if he lost that hat. (half-joking lol, i am also autistic and the idea of losing something that is both sentimental and also Part Of The Routine is incredibly stressful)

I imagine that the Pearl Clan probably tries to suggest he at least replace the coat with one that allows for better movement when climbing, but Ingo always refuses. His climbing could probably be more efficient with a new coat, but he doesn't want a new coat. So he just makes peace with the fact that he won't be as maneuverable as he could be.

There's probably also a part of him that doesn't want to change, either. He doesn't want to become so different that his coat doesn't fit the way it used to, because what if, if he ever does go home, the people he used to know won't recognize what he's become.

[captaincrumbz]

MYSTICALBOOTY FANFIC!!

Im SO MAD because I tried to post this by putting the AO3 link to it and IT WONT WORK, it kept telling me to get the app so I just copied and pasted It. This is shorter than I had hoped for but i had fun writing it!!! I havent written anything in a while either! On AO3 its called Chatting!!!

After Emmet had acquired his markers, glitter glue and construction paper, Emmet had gone into the Captain's Cabin to make instructions! Lucy, Batman, Benny and Unikitty were in there too, watching him do his thing! Although Unikitty unfortunately had gotten sea sick easily...

As for Vitruvius, he made his way to where Metalbeard was. He had been on this large ship enough times to remember its whole layout.

He went all the way up the stairs that led onto the Quarter Deck. He held onto the railing with one hand and his staff in the other.

Metalbeard was steering the Sea Cow hadnt really noticed Vitruvius until he heard a loud thud. Vitruvius had stumbled. Metalbeard couldnt help but chuckle a bit at the sight.

"Yarrgh!! Ye be okay there matey? Better be careful, ya dont wanna break yer back!"

"Im good, Metalbeard."

Vitruvius said as stood back up and walked over to where Metalbeard stood.

"Ah well, what brings ye up here anyway?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Emmet-"

Metalbeard put his cannon-hand thing on his hip and raised an eyebrow."

"After his speech I do have some faith in the boy, although I cant help but be a wee bit wary of how everything will go tomorrow..."

"I dont think there is any need to be, I have around him long enough to know he has a lot of potential."

"I suppose... Ye've always been an optimistic one have ye!" His attention more brought onto Vitruvius now rather than the steering of the Sea Cow.

"Why yes I have. Oh! That reminds me Metalbeard, of you when we were young...before you had your beard? You went by Craggy, correct? You were quite optimistic yourself."

The pirate had felt a small pang of...sorrow? or nostalgia upon hearing that name.

"Aye I had! No one has called me that for a while. The last people t' call me that were apart of me crew!"

"Oh I see."

"Back then I had strapping and virile body..." He went on, at this point he was repeating himself. Although hearing Metalbeard's tell of woe a million times before he had felt much empathy for him.

"I've always thought you were quite endearing then, even now. I may not be able to see how it looks now but even if I could im positive I would think the same way."

"Really now? Ye arent pullin' my leg are ye?"

"Oh no of course not."

"Arr, well I think ye be rather thee charmer yerself!"

Old men flirting. Vitruvius had chuckled, although his beard covered his mouth, you could tell he was smiling by looking at the way his eyes lit up. They had spoke to eachother until Emmet had called them over to the Captain's Cabin to finally discuss his plans. The two had felt very fond of eachother, much warmth and comfort, although they hadn't really brought this up to the others.

[onestepbackwards]

Emmet probably thinks that Streamer is his child and that they just really look like their mother and when Streamer and Ingo get back from Hisui, Emmet doesn't think about getting a paternity test because Streamer is totally his child until Streamer calls him "uncle Emmet"

He's 100% willing to take responsibility. You are already family. He's already making a bedroom for you based on your interests he gathers from your streams.

If he's being honest, he didn't think he would be so giddy about it, either. Who knew being a dad was so fun so far?

He fills the closet with clothes you mention missing, and takes it very seriously! He even paints the room your favorite color!

When you and Ingo get back to the present, imagine yours and Ingo's surprise seeing how he went all out for you.

You think he must be doing this as a thank you for watching out for his brother, and bringing him home. It never even occurs to you he thinks your his biological kid he must have had from a brief fling years ago.

Still, you feel honored he was doing all of this for you, just for helping Ingo. Ingo of course gives a nod of approval. Though Emmet didn't have to go all out, he could appreciate what his brother was trying to convey.

Also completely unaware Emmet thinks you are his kid.

It isn't until at least a month later, that you are visiting to see how Ingo and Emmet are doing, that you end up unintentionally shattering what Emmet had thought.

Emmet had let you go home, knowing you probably wanted to see your mother and friends. He was a bit tearful about it, but knew you would be back. Thankfully, you weren't gone too long, having wanted to make sure Ingo was doing okay.

And you greet him as you arrive, giving Emmet a hug after Ingo.

"It's so good to see you too, Uncle Emmet!"

And in an instant, you could almost hear glass shattering as you once again accidentally completely alter Emmet's world view.

"U-Uncle?"

You release him from the hug with a wide smile.

"I hope it's okay to call you that? You have been like family to me, just like Ingo, who took care of me in Hisui. If its too much..."

"No! No, that is fine. You can call me... Uncle Emmet."

You are still unofficially his kid though >:(

[bluebellowl]

Ok, fnaf submas idea(maybe)

Now, i cant remember if you said something about a train chase scene between the twins and the player or not but if you didn’t then that is what i am proposing.

How i imagine it going is at first the player/gregory is taking the train to some new area that’s been unlocked with the twins having been a neutral party throughout most of the game until now or freddy mentioning them and helping gregory reach them to unlock fast travel(with little train stops here there that have been found across gameplay)

And upon the first encounter the twins become hacked and attack gregory as the train is going with you the player racing to get the conductor car with the twins following in suit behind you quickly (either rushing at you on their two feet or that really creepy bent-backward crawl on their hands and feet and their heads turned[360 turning capabilities?] in order to accommodate that position)

Once you get to the front car you then have control of the train and veer it onto an unfinished track, freddy contacts you and sets up some type of like bomb or something, you somehow escape the train before it crashes leaving the twins to scream metallically (and somehow fearfully) into the trash area. Fast travel is still accessible, you just don’t have the twins there to manually run the train, its on autopilot now until you get them back up.

Alternatively, if one them catch you, you either get fucking decked/punched to death (one punch only shown) or suffocated. Gruesome yes but i imagine afton getting real fuckin sick of the player at this point and commands animatronics to kill on sight no matter what.

And depending on who you find first they will either follow you around the trash dump(Ingo after you get him a battery) or head straight to the nearest train station to wait for you(Emmet).

Once they’ve been reunited you take em to the repair area, find a few leftover parts and fix em up as much as you can. Ingo’s voicebox still has that unnatural, glitchy, autotuned baritone and Emmet still twitches(he twitched and sputtered a lot before the repair, a result of his fall) here there due to faulty wiring/coding that would require an engineer and coder to fix fully, not a child. That and the parts were a little outdated.

Oh man I'm eating good today!! Thank you so much for that plot idea. I'm having a lot of fun juggling that around in my brain!

Some of that I already sorta used in previous fnaf AU pieces.

Like crashing the train into the trash dump and befriending the twins again after finding them down there.

or

Using the train as a means of fast travel to make navigation easier but with a catch.

But you mentioned that the twins are neutral at first, but the first time you actually encounter them they'll attack? Will they be a mystery at first then? Like you only ever see a portion of them from the back? Freddy would probably insist they'd be such nice fellows, like he does with music man. I wonder what would move him to place a bomb in order to blow them up. Maybe the train crashing off tracks and the fragile pizza plex floor might even be enough to doom them.

I do love the idea of them just straight up punching Gregory to death upon sight as their jumpscare. Just unrestrained violence. And you know those guys have the Newtons to crush an adult skull! Suffocation might be even creepier I think. Just their manic eyes staring you down, hands around your throat at your vision goes dark. As if they were simply putting you to sleep.

[waywardstation]

I just wanna say this ; I've been binging your Ao3 fics and so far my absolute favorite is Lets get you back to her! It's just, it's everything to me. It's so cute, and I love how the past and present parallel each other. And uhhhh the ending destroyed me.

I honestly can't wait for the sequel to it. I'm betting my bank account it's gonna be called Lets get you back to him.

Imagine if Ingo and Emmet took a trip to Sinnoh before, and Ingo got lost in Jubilife trying to meet up with Emmet. And then Johanna to the rescue, she guides him to the Cafe he's meant to be at, and then Emmet waves him over and draps an arm over his shoulder as he teases him about getting lost. And then it cuts to the present (a couple months after the first fic), where Johanna and Akari lead him to Gear Station or something, and then Emmet comes in running and tackle hugs Ingo in a tearful reunion.

Or maybe on a funnier note, Johanna tries to email Emmet like "hey come pick up your brother", but either never gets a response or Emmet doesn't believe her. So she hauls Ingo all the way to Unova (doesn't matter Ingo is legally dead or has no documentation on him, she's a famous coordinator and she can pull some strings), and takes him to Gear Station like "okay here he is".

In regards to my fic Let’s Get You Back to Her (Once again tumblr will not let me link the post to the fic, if you haven’t read it and want to, you can find it in my pinned post!)

THANK YOU FOR SUCH A FUN ASK ANON!! First off I’m so, so happy to hear that you want to binge read my stuff! ;0; <3 thank you!! I’m so glad to hear you like Let’s Get You Back to Her as well, it’s still one I really like!!

(Also, ‘Let’s Get You Back to Him’ is a PERFECT sequel title wow. I didn’t even think about that!! Kudos to you because that’s really good haha)

AND I REALLY LOVE YOUR IDEAS ANON THOSE ARE SO FUN!! The email variation is so funny because yeah I’m sure by that point Emmet would look at that email and think it’s a sick joke of some sort. Gotta drag Ingo over there now to prove it’s not!!

But the cafe idea is so sweet!! Now instead of Ingo bringing a lost Akari/Dawn back to Johanna, now Johanna’s gotta be the one to bring Ingo to Emmet haha. I really like that idea! And then doing it again at Gear Station, once again bringing Ingo back to Emmet but this time it’s much more emotional. Ahhh!! ;0;

Love these ideas anon! Thank you for sharing them!! But about how the sequel might actually go now…

Big ramble below about how I feel the originally planned sequel to LGYBTH would have to be different now, considering I still want it to be canon to my entire narrative, but also have to consider the events of IWLYB.

—————

The sequel is actually something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, so this ask was perfect timing haha. LGYBTH was written before I had really started constructing an overarching narrative in my works, so if you’re aware of my WIP fic I Won’t Leave You Behind, that fic would sort of change the sequel, as the sequel would come immediately after it — it basically involves Akari bringing Ingo back with her to modern day Sinnoh, and getting him to a hospital after he sustained a serious injury from an alpha garchomp while protecting her.

It changes a lot of circumstances, and would almost certainly have Johanna get to the hospital first. She would have some time there with both Akari/Dawn, and Ingo, though he probably isn’t all there for a while.

I feel like Ingo would probably take some time to identify, being in an entirely different region altogether with no form of identification and still lots of his memory missing (that is, when he’s even alert), and he is probably moderately known at best by the general population in Sinnoh.

Ingo would have to depend on Akari/Dawn and Johanna to really get things going and alert Emmet to get over to Sinnoh and see him.

I feel like during the time Johanna and Akari/Dawn are in the hospital with Ingo, just the two of them, Johanna would get to hear her daughter tell her everything that Ingo did for her, including what he did to end up in the hospital in the first place (and Johanna would probably be the one to tell Akari/Dawn that they had met him before, and he was the one who found her when she was lost in Gear Station when she was little).

Johanna would be so grateful, I’m sure that (with Akari begging her to haha) she’d insist that Ingo and Emmet stay at their house for a bit once he’s able to keep recovering outside of the hospital. Maybe even let Emmet stay there before that, just so he doesn’t have to keep paying for a hotel just to stay close to Ingo.

But this stay would be relatively short. I have a big reason as to why, and why Emmet would not initially be able to take Ingo back to Unova with him after he recovers, but I want to cover that when I actually get the fic out :)

It has gotten a lot more complicated now that I’ve built up so much more of the overarching narrative since then, but I feel like overall it can still wind back around to being very close to the originally planned LGYBTH sequel!

There is still a lot to consider and go through, but I’m having fun figuring out how to connect everything :) thank you again for the ask kind anon!!! I’m so happy you like my works!!

[benny-the-spaceman]

DO YOU HAVE ANY LEGO MOVIE 1&2 CHARACTER HEADCANONS!?

HI ANON. YES. YES I DO.

A LOT ACTUALLY. I'll leave it the characters I do the most with for now BUT YES ANON I HAVE MANY HEADCANONS

Emmet:

Wasian (specifically japanese and white [totes not projecting])

Everything he likes is the most average response possible (basically canon) and people do use this constantly. If you want to know the most basic, agreeable sandwich to buy for someone you don't know, ask Emmet.

After TLM2, Emmet takes up gardening as a hobby. Of course he always had planty, but now he has an entire front garden. His favorite flowers are sunflowers and daisies.

Emmet is a surprisingly good singer! He doesn't sing much unless someone asks him too though. He was definitely in choir during high school.

Speaking of high school, Emmet was on the wrestling team. He never medalled or anything, but he was there.

Emmet has tried to learn other languages. That's the end of that conversation. He's monolingual.

The type of guy to make the most awkward jokes. Not in a weird way, just in an unfunny way. He tells those rly boring jokes that u at most half chuckle at but otherwise u just kinda stand there awkwardly and the conversation falls flat.

This isn't to say he *isn't* funny, he's just not funny when it comes to jokes. When he's just naturally speaking he's very entertaining to have conversations with.

Emmet is the master of pointless small talk.

Emmet's favorite food is waffles with whip cream and strawberries!

He secretly doesn't have his ACI certification but still handles concrete anyway. Tsk tsk

He's been in charge of a lot of reconstruction efforts after armamageddeon, really putting that construction background to use.

Emmet is wicked good at monopoly and uno but no one knows why.

He's tall and buff. this man is like pushing 6'7" and is jacked, that's hidden under a bit of chub though.

Emmet is a heavyweight drinker. No one knows why this is either. He can keep going for ages and he'll still act completely sober. Doesn't really like drinking though.

Benny:

Vietnamese

Youngest sibling haha, point and laugh

Not young though, this guy is like in his 50's

I am a firm believer in non-conventionally attractive Benny. Hair's a tangled mess, horrible fashion sense, you name it. Also he smells bad. No one has or probably will dissuade me from this. Sorry to mars specifically

Often spends days at a time working on projects, often with little to no sleep. When he focuses he *focuses*. This ties back to the previous statement about him.

Absolutely stacked education. Phd in aerospace engineering and a certified welder, mahcinist, pilot, and avionic technician. He does it all.

He may be smart but he is not a good cook. If he serves you glop do not eat it you will get the worst food poisoning of your life, Lord knows how he survives.

Has a pet miniature automated mirror cart named Castor. This is how he gets food and drink during his several day work periods.

Metalbeard is his best friend! They have Tuesday draft reviewing sessions where they show their latest ideas and critique each other. Despite the major differences in what they do, these critique sessions help both of them improve.

They also have tea parties with Unikitty. Unikitty tends to convince Metalbeard to participate in shenanigans and Metalbeard tends to force Benny into those same shenanigans. When those 3 are together it's an omen.

Metalbeard:

He's my favorite. The URL wouldn't make you think so but he is.

Wicked good dancer. The robotic body does not hinder his ability to do a fun little jig.

Metalbeard has had 3 ships, his parent's old ship, the first ship he built himself, and the sea cow.

He's stubborn as a mule. Once his head is set on something you will not convince him out of it.

Does not have any official education. He's a 15th century pirate for crying out loud.

Swears...Surprisingly little? He's a pirate so you'd expect him to have a pretty bad sailor mouth but no. He's pretty tame in that regard.

His favorite food is pineapple

Not a big risk-taker. Firm believer of calculated decision making. I mean it's in the rules of the sea: Always abandon a lost cause. He isn't looking for fights all willy nilly.

Old as shit. I covered it in my thread on Metalbeard's ship but based on the age of it he's several centuries old.

Unlike Benny, Metalbeard is quite good with and also quite likes newer technology. His 15th century currack has a steampipe coming out of it for a reason.

Knows Spanish and Portuguese.

When he was younger, he used to go fishing with his parents very often. He doesn't get to go as much now, but he tries to go fishing with them at least a couple times a year.

The one thing he misses the most about having his limbs is swimming. His present-day body being made of wood and metal doesn't it make it very amicable to swimming. He'd kill to paddle around in the ocean again.

Unikitty:

Incredibly mischievous. Has a habit of roping people into little pranks or games.

Eats mostly sugar

Misses her homeland often. She doesn't talk about it much, but she wishes constantly to have Cloud Cuckooland back. As much as she tries not to hold it against GCBC and Lord Business, she does.

Surprisingly strong. She can lift Metalbeard in his full robotic body like it's nothing.

Impromptu cuddles are her jam. If Unikitty is rushing towards you, it's a 50/50 shot of whether if she wants a hug or if she wants to tackle you like a linebacker.

Has a diary that she does not let anyone touch. Except Wyldstyle.

Her, Wyldstyle, and Mayhem have girls nights where they mostly just hang out build stuff together. They more or less are used for talking about their feelings, Wyldstyle started them after she realized none of them had particularly good outlets for their emotions.

Unikitty's tail is edible.

Sometimes Unikitty will glow if she's having a good day.

Unikitty can speak every language. She was just born that way.

Sometimes Unikitty feels as if people don't take her seriously, mostly on account of being a cat. This does bug her a lot but she tries not to let it get to her.

Unikitty's favorite thing to do is make people happy (:

She gives Benny haircare tips constantly and he ignores most of them much to her dismay.

Business:

Mr. Money Launderer

Wears really stupid graphic t-shirts with dad or golfing or fishing jokes on them.

His first name is Jolly! (I stole this one from superpeeboy, lol)

Cares A LOT about his appearance and is very meticulous. Wakes up at least an hour early to get ready.

OCD king. He really should do ERP therapy but he won't because there's absolutely nothing wrong with him how could you dare imply that.

Cheats at golf.

Gets all of his clothes ironed and drycleaned.

Absolutely not gay. Never. He'd never be gay. He doesn't know what you're talking about. He's normal. Not to say being gay isn't normal but he's not that. Totally. 100%. He isn't in denial

Does the white mom thing when they go to a restaurant and are like yknow what? I'm gonna be *bad* today.

Says he's 50 years young (I also stole this from superpeeboy)

Picky ass eater. Doesn't like spice and also really likes how mayo tastes but don't put too much mayo and his sandwich shouldn't have too much bread and why is the steak cooked so little and why does the meal have flavor but also why doesn't the meal have flavor.

Also here's some other posts of mine related to hcs I have. I really like. making headcanons.

How Masterbuilders Draft

Emmet Construction Certifications

One of My Favorite Post Chains Ever Please Look at All the Reblogs on This

Metalbeard's Ship

Emmet's Internal Clock

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[randomwriteronline]

(Catching Up)

If the XTransceiver had not buzzed on his wrist, Ingo might have sat there for the rest of the day, gently running his hand on the side of Excadrill’s neck.

He was glad he’d seen the kid again.

He was, really.

It was good to know they were doing fine despite it all, and they’d seemed equally happy to see him acclimate to his own life once again - though he was awfully sorry about forgetting the difference in time zones and keeping them awake so long into the night (no matter how much they reassured him he wasn’t ruining their sleep schedule with one single call).

It had just…

He kept thinking of their tone in that single moment.

Just turning the sound of it in his mind, round and round, over and over.

(It had struck him too late, after the call was already over and he’d been mulling for a minute or two, that he hadn’t apologized.)

(For what?)

(The sky.)

(The sky had cracked open upon them with its sickly vermillion color interlaced with green, and he had been outside the dojo, and he had watched them be banished from Jubilife Village without saying or doing anything. He had just stood there, like the dumbfounded cretin he had actually been.)

(What could he have done, anyways? It wasn’t as though they’d known each other too well - he’d been glad to aid them along their way up the Highlands, and they’d been kind enough to take on his requests and try to help him with his memories and entertain themselves with his challenges, and that had been it. Why would they have expected him to do anything? Why would he have thought of doing anything? What good would it have been either way if he had, indeed, tried to make a case for their innocence? Jubilife Village was not the Pearl Clan: what little power his status as warden might have given him was easily rendered null and void outside of the walls of the huts built to stave off the Icelands’ powerful winds; and besides, he was an outsider like them. He had barely had the right to argue for his own departure. He could have easily been detained or ostracized just like them.)

(Still.)

(He was a conductor.)

(Passenger safety was his responsibility.)

(He should have done something, anything, for them.)

(But he hadn’t.)

The distraction on his wrist dragged him back to the real world in the matter of a moment, his eyes blinking quickly and his hand halting in the middle of a caress to Excadrill’s back.

In the time it took him to angle himself so he could look at the display while still allowing the enormous Ground mole to stay comfortably seated on his lap, the buzzing repeated again: the screen showed him an unknown contact had sent him two messages. He fumbled a moment with the small device until he managed to open them up, squinting at the small letters.

Very gently, Klinklang lifted his wrist closer to his face so he could read better.

9:07. Hiiiiiiiii this is Briosa Crociera Substitute Subway Boss/Master

9:07. Its my free day and Elesa apparently is busy so Emmet gave me your number n asked if i could check in on you

A rectangular smile came to his mind. With Haxorus’ help he immediately saved the number, just in case.

9:08. Good morning Briosa! I am doing quite fine, thank you. How are you? I hope Elesa has not run into any trouble.

9:09. Im fine thank you! and dont worry abt her shes just working

9:09. Can i ask you a couple questions real quick

9:09. Of course! I shall answer to the best of my abilities.

9:10. First of all you got plans today

9:10. No, I can’t say I do.

9:10. Second of all how are you with water

That was a weird continuation.

9:10. I do drink it, yes. It’s important to remain well hydrated.

9:11. Wish that were me

9:11. My brain is convinced im a maractus and my thirst reflex is non existent

9:11. But i meant more generally like being in water or swimming

9:12. That does not seem quite healthy. Perhaps you should visit a doctor about it. I’m also afraid I’m not familiar with what a Maractus might look like, so I fear your comparison is a little lost on me.

As he was typing his response to her other text, an image appeared suddenly on the screen: it depicted a sprawling desert landscape, dunes falling upon each other in cascades of fool’s gold, with a vibrant green beastie in the middle of it all.

The footless Pokémon stood out like a sore thumb in the dull yellow of the sand. Its body seemed full much like a balloon sagging with water, but the brilliant golden eyes and the mischievous smile were filled with a restless excited energy, as though it were about to break the stillness of the picture to bounce around happily, causing both its spikes and the lovely flowers sticking from atop what might have been its large antennae to sway to the beat.

Was this Maractus, then? Briosa’s next messages confirmed as much.

9:13. This guy

9:13. Lives in the desert n does not need water for ages bc it stores it all in the lil pigtail things over there

9:14. What a delightful Pokémon! It seems very friendly. Thank you for offering clarifications - I understand now. Regarding your question, I am indeed capable of swimming and floating, but I’m still a little lost on what “being in the water” would mean.

9:14. Fair, hold on

9:14. Please, take all the time you need.

9:16. Do you suffer from a debilitating fear of any of the following: - water - the sea - the ocean - boats - being on a boats - fish - seafood - jellyfish - water pokemon - drowning - storms at sea - other things related to water/sea/fish/algae/boats/etc

Oh! A very thorough list! Then again, if the subject was severe phobias, it was good to be precise and include as many options as possible.

Ingo read it carefully.

9:17. Thank you for asking me. Here are my answers in order: - No - No - No - No - No - No - No - No - No, though I do not have any - I am reasonably afraid of drowning - I am similarly reasonably afraid of storms at sea - I cannot think of anything else relating to the subject at hand

9:18. Baller

(He snorted despite himself. Who the hell says ‘baller’?)

(It sounded old even to him.)

(And if anybody was supposed to know old, that was definitely him.)

9:18. You wanna go feed some frillish?

9:18. Water ghost

He thanked her quick wits for specifying before he had to ask.

So she was talking about Pokémon once again. Maybe it was a friendly species, or in this case a colony designated to a precise area. The name did intrigue him, bringing images of something graceful and wispy to his mind… It sounded like an interesting change of pace from his past sedentary days. And he would have gotten to see more of the region – so, why not?

9:19. I would indeed like to see more Unovan Pokémon!

9:19. Nice! wait uhhhhh ten minutes

Since she did not add anything onto that, he supposed he would have just waited.

Seven minutes later, he jolted six feet into the air while searching for a snack as someone tried blowing a hole through his door with their fists.

“HI!” came a sugar sweet voice at terrible volumes from beyond it: “IT���S BRIOSA!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised at seeing, once he’d opened the door, that it indeed was her: wearing a different hat, much boxier in shape, and different clothes, with no sleeves nor a coat to speak of and pants much too baggy for her little frame and heart-laced shoes with enormous soles that made her seem slightly taller, and Mawile on her arm instead of on the ground or biting down on her limbs, but with the same rotten green eyes and short stature and saccharine tone.

She smiled her square grin at him: “Hey.”

“Hello!” he greeted back, nodding in acknowledgement at both her and her Fairy, who nodded back politely. He stood there in front of them for a moment, like some kind of decorative alabaster column; then, a little awkwardly, he saw it fit to inquire: “May I ask how you found this address, seeing as I did not mention it at all?”

��I’ve cooked here,” she answered curtly.

He was about to apologize for the silly question – obviously a friend of Emmet’s would be aware of where his residence was – but her instant reply blocked him for a moment or so to better process what that meant.

Not that Briosa would allow him, because she immediately continued without giving him any chance of voicing his thoughts: “Wanna go?”

He stalled, turning back towards the corridor and then to her once more: “Should I take my own team along?” he asked. “I lack any Water Types, but if we are going into uncharted waters it would be perhaps safer to bring them either way.”

She shrugged: “That’s fair.”

He jumped again a few seconds later, as he was collecting his team – all of whom seemed very excited at the prospect of going out – when she shouted at him from the door, so loud that her voice squeaked: “REMEMBER THE FACEMASK!”

Ingo briefly wondered if that was how he sounded like to others.

He understood now why people tended to jolt or wince.

He also wondered, as they speeded through the streets, if Briosa was a relative of theirs that his brother had neglected to include in the family tree - seeing as she sporadically had both his egregious volume and Emmet’s bulldozing gait when walking, which was the main reason as to why they were currently making their way further and further west of Nimbasa with nary an opposition from other passersby, who perhaps took notice of her a little later due to her stature but were quick to throw themselves to the side and let her pass instead of getting their knees completely pulverized by such an unstoppable bullet of a person.

Now that he thought about it, her unmovable resolve could compete with Marshal’s, and Iris did have a similar brand of assertiveness and a tendency to drag people around like empty bags…

As lost in thought as he was, he very nearly found himself completely alone in the buzzing crowd, almost losing sight of his chaperone - though luckily he was able to locate and rush after her thanks to the long trail of empty space and terrified pedestrians left in the wake of her passage.

If she was indeed part of their family, she had not gotten their height.

“I didn’t know Nimbasa had an outlet onto the sea,” he noted loudly, half worrying his voice would get lost in the air currents created by her mad sprint.

Mawile, sitting on her aidee’s arm, translated him without problem: “Oh, it doesn’t,” Briosa replied without even turning, “It has one to the desert, we’re going to Driftveil.”

“To the desert?” he repeated.

“No, to Driftveil.”

“But you said something about a desert?”

“Yep.”

“There’s a desert?”

“Yep, the Desert Resort, or the Quiet Desert. I like Quiet Desert more than Resort, it makes it sound less like a tourist spot, which it isn’t really, because, you know! Desert! Just sand! Nothing else! And the castle, barely. But mostly sand!”

“And the what?”

“Castle, barely.”

“There’s a what?”

“Technically yes, practically no.”

Unsure how he was supposed to get clarification on that, he briefly changed the subject: “Why is it called quiet?”

“Because it’s quiet.”

“I imagined as much, but is there a more specific reason?”

“There used to be people and now there aren’t.”

“There used to be – sorry – people lived in the desert?”

“It probably wasn’t a desert back then but yes, I told you, there’s the castle and everything - barely, but technically there is one and I think you can get lost in there. Never been there! Just heard about it.”

Ingo looked around at the urban reality around him with completely different eyes compared to when Elesa had first dragged him through it – at the large fountains that sometimes dotted the streets, the shimmering of the amusement park’s gate preceding the clear moat around it, the plants, the small forest they were quickly approaching: all of this, right outside of a desert?

Such bountiful nature so close to a near complete lack of life?

Perhaps there was a fresh-water basin underground, and the city had been built on top of it; or perhaps it had been an oasis, and human intervention had then turned it into a properly lush continental landscape.

And to think of an inhabited desert… The thought of wandering people making a life through it didn’t sound as alien as he might have thought, but a castle within the dunes!

Who knows what kind of kingdom that could have been, now drowned in a dry sea…

Unova was such an interesting place.

“You can see it from the station, I think,” Briosa interrupted his musings.

He snapped back into focus: “What?”

“The desert, I think you can see it from the station,” she repeated: “There’s a balcony at the top, and if you stand there you can definitely see Castellia, so you should probably also– AH CAZZO L'HANNO TIRATO GIÙ ADESSO SANTI DRAGHI DI ‘STA MINCHIA,” she interrupted herself suddenly; her free hand clutched Ingo’s, and she all but dragged him through the asphalted path so quickly that he was fairly sure he was about to start majestically flailing in the wind: “Dai dai dai prima che non ci veda e lo tiri su di nuovo!”

A woman in a small booth replied to her greeting gesture with a reassuring thumbs up; in a moment, the two were standing on a marvel of metal and pulled rope, as red and white as truth itself, while above them circled flying winged shapes, dark against the morning sun.

Briosa let go of him and stomped to a stop a few steps away, leaning down onto her knees as she inhaled really noisily to regain her breath.

Ingo noticed only then, in-between heaving enormous quantities of air back into his burning lungs, that Mawile was still hanging onto her aidee’s arm, eyes enormous and claws sinking into it holding for dear life - by extension realizing there were also a discrete amount of small paler stripes of skin on the same limb, roughly as large as the cuts the hearing aid Pokémon had just opened.

The fact that this sort of phenomenon (bursting into a sprint out of nowhere) was, apparently, common enough for the Substitute to not even flinch as the Fairy simply dangled from her limb greatly befuddled him.

Then again, being in a semi-constant state of great puzzlement seemed like the standard reaction to Briosa in general.

“Porca di quella puttana troia d’una Emboar tua madre, c’è mancato un pelo,” she continued once she finally no longer exhaled like the rickety exhaust pipe of the world’s worst put together car.

It sounded like an incredibly blasphemous thing, so he held himself back from asking for a translation.

She stretched back to her entire three-Rawsts-and-an-Oran worth of height and waved at him with an easygoing attitude while her poor aide struggled to sit back up on her arm: “Questi se non ti vedono che sali rischi che ti tirano su il ponte sotto i piedi quando sei a metà. È successo a un amico di mio papà, s’è quasi polverizzato l’osso sacro scivolando giù fino a terra - che è una caduta mica da ridere, non te la raccomando. Noi siamo a posto comunque, non ti preoccupare, non c’è nave che tenga, finché non ci vedono arrivare dall’altra parte questo pezzo di merda non si muove d’un millimetro. Dai ora, che il ponte non è lungo ma se ci beccano gli Swanna non la finiamo più. Ecco, attento agli Swanna appunto. E ai Ducklett. Che son bastardi pure loro. Piccini e tutto, ma bastardi.”

Ingo did not respond to that.

His eyes covertly turned to Mawile, hoping they could convey what his lack of expressivity couldn’t, that being: was it a little late to ask for a translation?

Because while he would have very much liked to comprehend what all of that had been about, it had sounded like a whole lot of information, and he wasn’t even sure if Mawile had understood it either.

The Fairy sighed deeply, tiredly setting her paws up to relay his question.

She was interrupted by a loud graceful shriek approaching ever quicker, as if diving right for them: a large shadow was closing in on them from the sky, slowly unveiling a sharp beak and white plumage as it approached with the speed and murderous intent of a heat-seeking missile.

Oh, shit.

When bird pokémon got like that, one’s best hope was to duck in time and sprint as far into the opposite direction as possible. And Ingo was all out of sprinting for the day.

He couldn’t even manage to be mad when Mawile jumped off of her aidee out of what he rightfully assumed to be a burst of preservation instincts, only patting her shoulder to give her a speedy farewell before leaving her to her no doubt agonizing end - since the beast approaching was fairly large and by the looks of it could have easily swept her off her feet and carried her away much like a Hunchcrow nabbing a very unfortunate Buneary. That was a fair response from the little Steel type, he reasoned, since she was even smaller than her human ward.

He, on the other hand, who was significantly larger than all parties involved, should have done something about this.

Before he could move, the Flying Type had reached his prey.

Said prey proceeded to instantly grasp the Pokémon’s long white neck in an iron grip, slap the beaked face hard enough to make it squawk, and hurl it over the red edge of the bridge as it flapped its wings in frantic terror, with no additional fanfare outside from a squeaky: “E vaffanculo!”

Ah.

Well…

Yes, actually, he should have expected this.

Honestly he wasn’t sure why he’d even entertained the thought that the poor creature had any chance of survival.

Briosa turned to him again: “Vedi?” she asked, and gestured at the Flying beast clumsily fluttering as far away from her as possible in a hurry: “Gli Swanna son stronzi così. Per quello dobbiamo sbrigarci, altrimenti ne arrivano altri dieci e a quel punto siam fottuti. Dai, metti in moto quelle pertiche che hai al posto delle gambe e andiamo.”

Then she turned around, and Ingo nearly tripped on his feet to keep up with her.

The bridge was marvelously built, he could still notice in spite of how little time he got to spend on it. The open sea greeted him from one side, and the enormous river from the other: despite the brine and limestone the metal structure remained a splendid red, its powerful metal cables holding strong against the winds and constant stress of lowering and raising the heavy platform. The sudden familiarity he’d felt when looking at modern Canalave City on the Sinnohan map was thus explained - he’d seen those kinds of drawbridges before! Right here!

An inexplicable joy lifted his heart a little. Hurrying to the other side didn’t feel as winding anymore.

The massive structure groaned as though to bid them goodbye while it was pulled up to let a ship pass, carrying whatever precious cargo it had upstream, when they finally touched down in Driftveil City.

If he had to describe the place in one word, he might have said it was very… Brown.

That did not mean it was monotonous, or ugly: just that the color and its variations seemed to dominate the city’s palette. Past the small green park meant to welcome visitors from Nimbasa the brick-built houses went back and forth between all sorts of earthy hues, from burnt orange to tan to something even closer to a fiery red, and the thin clay dust sometimes swirling on the gray asphalt gave the streets an appearance similar to some exotic kind of sandstone, or perhaps some yet unknown kind of semi-precious gem. Buildings with yet lighter colored walls appeared by contrast to be struggling against the city’s weather, finding themselves a little dull, almost gaunt or sickly, covered in graying patches nowhere to be seen on older constructions.

Briosa walked confidently between the slightly less bustling avenues, letting Ingo observe from the wake of her bulldozing passage. They passed a large market, silver tiles a little dusty, and took a wider road south from which vans periodically emerged to get swallowed up by the city life.

“Do you like fish?” she asked for no apparent reason.

“I do!”

“Then I’ll call you on Thursday for a list! That’s when the fish market comes around!”

“A list of what?”

“Motorbike parts. What do you think they sell at a fish market?”

“Oh! Please, there is no need to bother yourself with my own groceries. I will be glad to return on the correct day and get some myself.”

She laughed her rubbery giggle and drastically reduced her walking speed, appearing beside him in the blink of an eye: “No way, they’re able to swindle your underwear from under your nose if you can’t keep up with their bullshit arguments,” she winked: “Let the king of the market handle it. I’ll get you some great quality Feebas at a price so low you’ll shit your pants twice.”

Ingo processed the words like a steel ingot to the head: “I hope it will not come to that, but thank you.”

They turned sharply as they approached a long cement bridge connecting some kind of small island to the rest of the peninsula, apparently inhabited only by stern gray warehouses with roofs of a beautiful blue surrounded by large ships, mysterious green parallelepipeds, and gargantuan rust-red cranes; his short guide led him instead to a port for smaller vessels of varying sizes and capacities, most white and with some kind of sail.

Briosa navigated through the grove of masts and ropes as naturally as she would have in a subway tunnel.

Her search came to an end as she jumped into a small motor powered boat - perhaps the smallest in the entire sea: it was large enough to hold maybe two people, with a layer of vaguely blueish paint that wasn’t waterproof chipping away to reveal dull metal. Between the two seats lay a plank of wood similar to a cutting board, while near the front sat a large airtight sealed bag brimming with something and a toolbox was secured to the back right under the engine.

Mawile settled in the rickety thing with fond familiarity, finding a comfortable spot right at the front. As she stretched, Ingo couldn’t help imagining her as a miniature ship’s figurehead, impassively braving high tides and stormy weather.

With a brilliant square smile, Briosa opened her arms.

“Boat!” she announced proudly.

The man before her nodded and clapped by reflex before remembering she was deaf.

She bowed deeply nonetheless with a noticeable sense of theatricality.

“Now get in - CAREFULLY, with your freakishly long legs,” she ordered at last, pointing him to the seat in front of her. “We’ve got Frillish to feed.”

Ingo complied, taking all necessary precautions - Palina had shown him how to avoid accidentally capsizing vessels even smaller than this one, and he repeated her instructions under her breath as he added his weight to the boat.

Mawile lent him a paw to help him stabilize himself: he took it gratefully despite the very obvious fact that the difference between the various values of their bodies would have been enough to send the Steel Fairy flying directly into the horizon if he so much as briefly slipped, repaying the favor by helping her down from where she stood and offering his lap as a much more cushioned seat for her with a very polite ‘allow me, madam’, in the spit image of an old-fashioned gentleman. The tiny pokémon snickered a bit at his courtesy, but made herself comfortable on his leg nonetheless with a kind little signed thanks.

The motor suddenly stuttering to live scared the wits out of him briefly: he turned just in time to see Briosa smack her hand on the engine appreciatively with some kind of strange coo (“e anche oggi, ti si butta domani”) and face him with a wide toothy grin that cast a dangerous shadow all over her face.

The little boat then lurched ahead with impressive vigor; Ingo felt his back fold quicker than lightning as the dingy little thing speeded forward out of the harbor, almost squashing Mawile under him and slamming his nose directly into his own knees. He managed to catch himself just in time for neither of those things to happen and looked up with the wide eyes of a Pichu caught stealing a berry.

Briosa only grinned wider, rotten olive eyes squinted hard, square mouth opening just a moment to let out her squeaky saccharine laugh.

He would learn later that evening that she had that terrifying expression not because she was planning to spook him (or worse, grievously injure him) in the coming days, but because that was just how she looked when her teeth showed.

In the current moment, he thoughtfully considered whether he should fear for his life.

Water sprayed his back as they took off.

Ingo took his face mask off and turned to soak in the salmaster scent, eyes closed.

The engine coughed and croaked against the waves’ smoother hisses as they zipped around the hull; the wind seemed to cut into his nose, scraping his cheeks, howling in his ears until he had to pull down his hat to cover them.

Oh, this was so much better than flying. A million times better. The unstable gait of the boat still made him feel as though he was sitting on something solid, the buildings slowly growing smaller didn’t turn miniscule as soon as he blinked, and the vast expanse of the sea beneath him was far less terrifying than however many kilometers of completely empty air could have been between him and the ground.

He leaned against the side, almost laying down completely overwhelmed by some kind of inexplicable bliss.

“Having fun?” Briosa asked from behind his eyelids.

Sunlight pressed onto them, turning their darkness pink.

He nodded solemnly and gave her a thumbs up.

He could hear Mawile laugh goodnaturedly about it in his lap.

The rumbling engine sputtered to a halt after what felt like hours, but had very likely just been minutes; Ingo opened his eyes to be greeted by a sky with very few clouds, blue waves in every direction, and a good dozen beady red eyes creeping closer from beneath the water’s surface.

Not the most relaxing detail to notice.

A vaguely onion shaped mass began breaking through, rising towards him with a haunting empty look like that of a wandering Duskull fixed upon a pale azure skin. He stared back at it while it gripped the side of the boat with a wet flap similar to some kind of fabric to heft itself out of the water better and lean towards him, closer and closer, reaching out for him…

Mawile’s enormous jaws snapped around it, and the creature yelped comically loud.

Ingo felt himself yanked back to reality: “Oh!” he exclaimed while Briosa almost deafened him with a fit of maddened laughter, “Thank you!”

The little Fairy nodded back at him with a pleasant smile as she let go of her blubbering victim and smacked her aidee’s offered hand in a high five - or high three, considering the number of fingers on her paw.

“Are these the Frillish?” he asked.

The other human nodded after receiving his translation while she slammed one of her ridiculously tall-soled shoes onto the head of another one of the strange beasts (a rather pink one, who also gave a strangled wail when the hit drove its spectral jaw onto the metal and back into the water) to drive it off: “Their food’s right behind you,” she said as she pointed behind Ingo.

The man turned quickly, noticing the airtight bag secured at the front and bringing it to the middle of the boat: “Ah, pardon me - of course they were trying to climb in, I was blocking off their source of sustenance.”

“Oh no, they were trying to climb in to eat you,” Briosa corrected him. She opened the bag wide and pulled out some kind of shovel to mix around the kibble. “They would’ve dragged you into the water, drowned you and made you their lunch. It’s happened! They found the victims’ bones and everything!”

“... I see. Why do you feed them, then?”

A rain of kibble landed into the water and was promptly devoured by the hungry Ghosts: “Fun, I guess.”

She handed him the shovel.

With no other clear option, he shrugged mentally and launched another handful of edible little cubes into the sea.

They spent an almost infinite amount of minutes just taking turns at the bag, tossing food at the swarm and watching the blues and pinks mingle just underneath the surface as they hurried to get a bite before they were all gobbled up.

It was strangely satisfying.

Relaxing, even.

Kind of like watching Gravelers roll up and down a ravine.

He could see why Briosa enjoyed this.

They were rather curious Pokémon, he mused. He could feel a certain strange charm oozing out of them, the same that wafted from Chandelure, a certain eerie quality to their movements and their calls that he could compare to the Ghosts haunting Mount Coronet; yet something was especially heavy about them, as if they were bound by a sort of gravity that dragged them downwards instead of letting them waver lightly in the breeze.

Could it be the weight of the water they made their home within? The dampness of the infinite depths which hid away shipwrecks and sunken treasures, challenging any foolish divers that dared search for pearls within the rotting and rusting relics…

Perhaps this was what had brought the Substitute Subway Boss to care for them.

“Do you do this often?” he asked.

“On my days off.”

“This swarm must know you well, then.”

“Probably.”

“Do you like this type of Pokémon?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Have you ever considered catching any of them?”

“No.”

“I see.”

Like his brother, she could be well-versed in the art of conciseness.

As someone who’d never really been able to wield it successfully, he couldn’t help but feel in equal measure frustrated and envious by this pattern of conversation.

The Frillish heads bobbed upon the waves like buoys when the feeding suddenly stopped, watching them expectantly.

“I think they want more,” Ingo noted helpfully.

“They know food time is done,” Briosa replied while laying sideways across the boat. She was short enough that she fit perfectly within it, leaving only her feet poking out as though she were on a hammock.

The man looked back at the Pokémon staring at them with their terrifying beady eyes: “I do not believe they’re as aware of that fact as you might think.”

“Give Mawile a moment.”

The Steel Fairy smirked at the confused look he shot her.

Her maw, which had now long been dipped in the water, quivered lightly. Out of nowhere it began thrashing violently, slamming into the side of the vessel as if trying to rip itself from her head; both humans hurried to grab her tiny body before she was dragged overboard while she very calmly persevered in her mysterious unseen struggle much to the slowly increasing terror of the Frillish witnessing the scene.

Finally, the black mass escaped the ocean with a pinkish bounty roughly twice its size caught between its metal teeth. It slammed onto the board with a horrendous wet noise: the Ghosts paled at the spectacle and scattered as quickly as they could, sinking back into the abyss from whence they’d come.

Briosa whooped, grabbed her hearing aide’s catch, and gnawed a chunk of fin off with her teeth so quickly she almost choked right on it.

Ingo stared.

She stared back. A sudden embarrassment overtook her after a couple of minutes: she coughed, risked strangling herself again, swallowed her bite, and offered it to him.

“No, thank you,” he courteously replied.

“They’re safe to eat raw,” she insisted. “Honestly fresh and raw is the only way you can eat Alomomola fins, because if you freeze ‘em they get all mushy and gross when thawed and if you cook ‘em they get hard as wood and you may as well just use them as paddles. Ah, no, wait, maybe not this side, I chewed all over it - hold on a sec.”

As Mawile took her own bite off of the poor thing now turned into a near-midday snack’s appendages, Briosa rummaged with the toolbox beneath the engine. She pulled out a few knives before settling on one of them: laying the dead Pokémon on the cutting board Ingo had noted the presence of between the seats earlier with no shortage of curiosity, she expertly chopped off both vaguely hand-shaped fins and cut them into fairly long uniform strips that looked like chunky, yet to be dried beef jerky, a couple of which she raised to Ingo in a second, slightly more refined offering.

He accepted only one with a slight sigh, not eating it - not that he was scandalized by the method it had been obtained with (he’d had to hunt, too) or her table manners (he’d seen plenty worse): the smell of fresh fish simply was not a favorite of his.

Briosa was now busying herself with the rest of the corpse, cutting it up with clear and well honed motions.

It reminded him of Palina, of the few times he’d seen her work on a catch.

“You’re rather skilled with a knife,” Ingo noted. “I would not have expected this kind of proficiency nowadays.”

She slipped a fin strip in her mouth, chewing it a bit like a pipe: “Yeah, this isn’t really something you need when you don’t have to survive in the wilderness,” she nodded. “What with supermarkets and everything else.”

“May I ask how you learned?”

“First job was on a fishing boat for a brand of frozen fish sticks. They stuck me below deck to clean catches and prepare everything for the cooking since I was deaf and couldn’t really be of much help upstairs if somebody fell overboard. I did almost stab a guy when he tried to spook me, but also I’m the only one who didn’t end up in jail for Pokémon abuse and illegal fishing techniques, so.”

“Pardon, what?”

“Oh, you know,” Briosa shrugged.

“I do not think I do.”

“No, wait, you can’t know. Amnesia. Ok, so!” and she shoved another strip in her mouth, chewing as she picked up the momentum of her story like a train rolling down the side of a mountain: “By Driftveil, there’s Chargestone Cave, right? Chock full of Joltiks, I know you know those because Emmet has a thousand of ‘em. So what they used to do to minimize costs and maximize catches was, they’d set a few traps up in the cave, catch as many buggers as they could, and then dump them all in the sea so the poor things would panic as they drowned and shocked the fuck out of everything, and then they’d pick up all the dead fish in nets and pull ‘em over below deck for us shitheads to debone and cook and pack and all.”

Ingo absentmindedly bit into the fin, eyes wide as he listened: "That is tremendously inhumane." he noted.

"Hm, absolutely. And super illegal. Which is why when the researchers worried about the sudden decrease in the Joltik population and the several hundreds of little yellow corpses washing ashore discovered the traps and who was setting them up, they shut the whole thing down and almost everybody went to jail."

"Except for you."

"Except for me! Because I was deaf and working below deck and nobody told me anything ever. So they couldn't find anything on me and I just went home to look for another job."

"Is this when you moved onto railroads?"

"Oh no, I was in highschool back then, I paid uni with that job. They made so much cash from the illegal lures and I worked so fast that they kept giving me bonuses. I could even afford uni books. You know how much uni books cost? I could buy out the whole fish market for the same price as like, twelve of them probably."

Ah. “It seems to have worked out for you.”

Briosa threw yet another fin strip in her mouth (he had eaten a few by now as well, and so had Mawile) and nodded sagely.

She had fully cleaned and deboned the Alomomola while talking, now busying herself with cutting it into large enough fillets and wrapping it in papers so the blood and other fluids wouldn’t stain wherever she would settle her haul in. Ingo observed her carefully.

“This isn’t for me, by the way,” she told him while stuffing the fillets into a cold bag. “There’s a Galarian guy who makes fish and chips by the docks.”

“You sell your catches to him?”

“No, I just give ‘em what Mawile gets and he gives me a free meal for her or me or whoever. Equivalent exchange and all. Unless you want this? You can have it. Alomomola are great in a pan with a bit of salt and finely chopped chives on top. Plus they’re fat as hell so you don’t need butter or oil. And their sauce is good for your veins, too.”

“No, thank you,” he replied. “We have enough fish at home.”

She shrugged: “Suit yourself.”

Ingo watched her stretch, thin arms up in the air as she leaned back and to the left. Her strange shirt seemed to cling on her frame for dear life in the way it might have on a too small clothing hanger, ribs threatening to cut through her skin if she bent a little too much; similarly, he noted now, her legs seemed to take very little space inside her pants compared to the mass the fabric would have suggested.

His first thought was: no way she’s not going to survive the winter like that.

His second thought was that heating existed, and she did not rely on hunting, gathering and sparse agricultural practices to get sustenance, so she would have probably handled the coming cold just fine.

His third thought was that she should have still made some substantial (and abundant) changes to her diet.

A powerful ringing tore him out of his own head. He looked to his wrist to find the XTransceiver all abuzz with light and sound, insistently displaying INCOMING CALL FROM: EMMET in bright glowing letters; he tapped it hurriedly.

“I am Emmet,” his twin greeted him.

“Hello! I can see that!” Ingo very loudly waved back at him. “How are you?”

“I am fine! Tired. Usual day stress, though. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I am glad to hear it. Remember to take breaks!”

“I will. Lunch is soon anyway. Got two sandwiches today.”

“Bravo!”

“How are you?”

“I am doing quite fine! Briosa kindly offered to keep me company today, so we have taken a small trip to Driftveil.”

“Nice! Fun place. Lots  of fish.”

“Indeed. I’ve even had the chance to feed some Frillish with her.”

The near instant way his brother’s smile dropped to make way for a wide-eyed pale-cheeked look of pure terror made Ingo consider the possibility that, perhaps, simply mentioning he had been surrounded by man-eating ghost jellyfish without much further elaboration could have sounded a little bit concerning.

“It was done after taking good safety precautions,” he kind of half lied.

Emmet did not effectively hear him, as he instead asked in a very urgent tone: “Are you on the boat?”

“The what?”

“The boat. Briosa’s boat. Are you on the boat?”

Briosa returned her attention to her guest roughly right at that moment, eyes falling on the device at his wrist: “Who’s calling you?” she asked, pointing at the Xtransceiver with her chin.

“I - it’s Emmet,” he replied while struggling to keep his attention divided between the two of them.

“Hm,” she hummed: “Don’t tell him we’re on my boat.”

“You’re on the boat?” Emmet wheezed in a very, very shrill voice.

“I - Emmet, hold on–”

“You’re on the BOAT??”

“I’m- please calm down-”

“ON THE BOAT??”

“Alright, you seem very distressed about the boat.”

“I told you not to tell him about the boat!” Briosa reprimanded him as she read his lips.

Ingo briefly covered the device to at least muffle his twin’s newest shriek: “He can hear you,” he explained as sanity threatened to leave him completely; “He heard you saying I should not have mentioned we were on your boat.”

“YOU’RE ON THE FUCKING BOAT??”

Briosa clicked her tongue loudly after Mawile was done translating.

“Shit,” she just noted.

“GET OFF THE BOAT,” Emmet demanded from under his brother’s hand.

“Emmet, we are currently at sea,” Ingo informed him. “If I were to leave the boat now, I would likely have to swim the way back, which I very plainly refuse to do.”

“I AM EMMET. I DO NOT CARE. GET OFF THE BOAT.”

“You are being a little unreasonable.”

“YOU WILL DROWN.”

“Is he saying we will drown,” the Substitute butted in.

“YOU WILL,” Emmet insisted.

Ingo nodded.

“We’re not gonna drown,” Briosa reassured him.

“YOU WILL.”

“We’re not gonna drown.”

“INGO. TURN ME AROUND. I NEED TO YELL AT HER.”

His twin pursed his lips at him: “I do not think she will hear you.”

“INGO.”

Ingo dutifully unlatched the XTransceiver and handed it over to Briosa for her to more easily see.

He imagined his brother signing furiously as he heard him hiss through gritted teeth: “Briosa. Take him back to land. Right now. Immediately.”

“Emmet, we’re not going to drown.”

“You cannot know that. You will drown. Take him back. Right now.”

“He’s literally fine. I asked him if this sort of place freaked him out beforehand and he said he’s ok.”

“You can’t know that!”

“I can and I do know that because he’s directly in front of me and he’s been nothing but relaxed the whole time he’s been here. We haven’t had any accidents or anything of the sort. Everything is literally just fine. We’re chilling, even.”

“You cannot be chilling on a boat. Boats are death traps. Get him back on land. Now.”

“Emmet, porca puttana,” Briosa said gently, “Adesso ti corco di botte.”

“Do not speak tongues at me.”

“It takes thirty minutes to get back to shore,” she continued in a much sterner tone: “Then it takes ten more to walk back to Nimbasa. Your brother will be safe and sound at the station in forty minutes at best and forty-five at worst. So you will calm your anemic Sudowoodo ass down this instant or when I get back to work tomorrow the first thing I do will be waterboarding you in the bathroom sink.”

Please do not do that, Ingo thought but sagely did not say out loud.

A beat of tense silence passed between them; then he heard his twin sigh loudly.

“Verrry sorry,” he mumbled. “I am Emmet. I am tired. I panicked.”

“Fair. Go eat and you’ll feel better.”

“Soon. Please get off the boat.”

“We will! Tell your brother bye and then we’ll be on our way.”

She handed the XTransceiver back to Ingo, leaning down again as soon as it was not in her hands anymore.

He looked down at his brother with no shortage of concern: “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked softly.

Emmet nodded, though he looked a little exhausted - as though all that shouting had drained a lot of his energy: “I am Emmet. I am fine. Really. I just don’t like the boat. But don’t worry!” he reassured him quickly, “Briosa knows her way with them. You are safe. I’d like it if you came back, though. I’d feel much safer.”

“We will set sail for Driftveil right this moment, don’t worry,” Ingo replied. “I will be back to the station according to schedule! Please take care until then!”

“I will! Have a good trip back. Love you.”

“Love you too!”

The video feed cut off naturally, and the screen returned a vague reflection of Ingo’s characteristic frown. He turned to Briosa.

She continued to lay down, eyes closed, enjoying the warm sun.

He coughed gently in Mawile’s direction; the Fairy, also relaxing against the hull, turned to him with an inquisitive chirp.

“Are we not supposed to depart immediately?” he asked.

She stood back up and scampered to the side of her aidee’s chest, smacking her paw against her cheek. Once she had her attention, she quickly relayed the question.

“No.” Briosa replied without moving an inch.

“But you said it takes thirty minutes to return to shore,” Ingo argued. “We must leave this station quickly, or we will accumulate quite a delay.”

“The port is fifteen minutes away,” she replied.

Ingo blinked: “But you said thirty.”

“I lied.”

“Why so?”

“Gives us ten more minutes to stay here.”

“Don’t you mean fifteen?”

“Five minute headstarts never hurt anybody.”

“You have an interesting way of handling time.”

“Thanks.”

And so, they waited.

-

The man who waited for them on the pier seemed to be at least middle aged, although his brown hair without a single streak of silver could have suggested otherwise; he had glanced at the coming boat as he walked past the port, slowed down, done a double take, tilted his large white hat upwards in a surprised motion, and sauntered over to the incoming vessel with a smile that pulled at the laugh lines around his mouth – the sight of which reminded Ingo to pull up his facemask.

Briosa instantly bristled like an irritated Luxio.

“Well, howdy there,” the stranger greeted them once within talking distance.

“FUCK OFF YOU OLD CUNT,” she replied, “THAT’S MY SPOT.”

He raised his hands in a show of innocence, clearly taken aback by the volume: “Now there, ma’am–”

“SIR.” she stated firmly. Her small olive eyes were wide and still, laser focused on the man’s face with an intensity that would have crushed his bones and the kind of wrathful expression of an extraordinarily small Glalie.

He bowed his head slightly: “My mistake.”

(Ingo found this small exchange completely incomprehensible.)

“I didn’t mean to get y’all up in a fuss,” the other continued – he spoke with a very strange accent, as though he had picked up a second one and mixed it with a first one for so long that he couldn’t separate them anymore – and smiled gently at a very surprised Ingo: “I reckoned I saw a familiar face and thought of sayin’ hello is all.”

Was this a journalist? He didn’t look like one, but it would explain why the Substitute had gotten so riled up. As far as the public was concerned, the missing Subway Master was still possibly in Sinnoh; if it turned out he’d suddenly appeared in Unova, it would certainly stir up one hell of a media storm, and the tentative peaceful existence he’d been living up until now would have no doubt been annihilated.

 Unsure what to do, the amnesiac turned his eyes to Briosa.

She was squinting hard.

“I did not get a single bit of that,” she concluded. “I can’t read shit if you speak like you’re trying to hide that you’re still chewing lunch.”

Not being a hearing impaired person, it took the man a hot moment to understand what she meant.

That gave her ample time to reiterate, even louder: “FUCK OFF.”

“NOW there,” the stranger finally continued (opening his mouth a lot more to accommodate her, which certainly had An Effect on his accent) as he grabbed a hold of his headwear and tilted it downwards, perhaps in an attempt at covering his ears, “I don’t mean to cause trouble. I am a friend of that young man’s uncle.”

“CAN YOU PROVE THAT, HAT BOY?”

A green glint caught Ingo’s attention as the man sighed. That hue… The facets, the shape - but it couldn’t have been, no, there was no way. None at all. Simply–

(The warden reached out with a sort of misplaced hope.)

“Lian?”

The man looked at him, puzzled.

Ingo blessed the facemask for muffling his words.

He pointed at the gemstone perched upon the cream fabric: “That,” he explained, trying not to sound strangled, “Looks like a hisuian jasper. The stone.”

A hundred wrinkles creased the stranger’s face as it brightened with a smile.

“You remember this dusty piece of rock but not lil’ ol’ me?” he cawed out in the beginning of a laugh, more than elated by his words. He pulled off his hat for a moment with a wistful, almost nostalgic air, while Mawile hurriedly explained the situation to her aidee before she screamed at him to speak clearly again: “Ah, but you two were quite taken with it when you first saw me in person, I reckon that!”

He looked exactly like Lian. His hair was darker and his build stouter and his eyes harder and his skin paler and his nose bigger and his clothes completely different and his hat only vaguely similar, but he looked exactly like Lian.

His hand was warm in Ingo’s own, firm and steady as he shook once with practiced confidence, and he realized he’d automatically gone to meet it when he’d offered it.

“Name’s Clay,” he said. “This here city’s gym leader.”

Like Elesa! Somewhat less worried, the former conductor shook back: “It’s a pleasure to meet you again,” he said, relieved: “I’d introduce myself, but I have a feeling that would be redundant.”

“Unless there’s something new about yourself y’think I should know, I’m inclined to agree,” Clay replied easily, with a grin and the beginning of a laugh.

(No, Ingo decided very quickly, there was nothing he wanted to share.)

(Not now. Not ever, probably.)

(The warden still clung to the memory of Lian. What were the odds? That they would find someone of the Pearl clan, of the young man’s own family here? Perhaps it was a sign of sorts, trying to communicate something.)

(Perhaps it was some cruel trick of fate.)

(His palm was slowly dampening the kindly grip so very happy to see him.)

Ingo slipped out of the handshake with as natural a movement as he could while he carefully moved to stand on the pier: “I would love to get to know you better once more, but I am afraid today I am on a tight schedule,” he apologized: “My brother requires my presence shortly, and I would hate to upset him.”

“By the Dragons, don’t let me keep you then!” the gym leader reassured him, patting the side of his arm with almost as much strength as Briosa. “And don’t go lookin’ sheepish about that, I’ve got my own day all filled up… Mighty glad to have seen you again! And give Emmet my regards, would’ya?”

He watched the older man leave with a wide wave and a similarly wide smile, still huffing one or two raucous chuckles every now and then. His stout legs moved quickly down the port, past the boats and ships docking or leaving; then he crossed the bridge, and disappeared.

Briosa watched him pointedly, like a Braviary surveilling an intruder in its territory.

“So who was that?” she asked, sounding on edge.

Ingo blinked: “He is the gym leader,” he reassured her.

“Of what?”

He blinked again: “Driftveil City?”

“Huh. Really?”

“I… Did you… Not know?”

“No? Should I?”

The man stared at her for a brief moment.

“I was under the impression that you lived here?”

“I do. And?”

Now, he may not remember much in regards to modern times.

But he was pretty sure that a Gym Leader was someone that most people in the town in which the person in question operated were likely to know the existence of whether they actually wanted to or not.

A bagful of filleted fish unceremoniously dropped into his not exactly waiting arms, taking his mind off of the curious conundrum: “Go get yourself fish and chips,” Briosa ordered simply. “It’s almost midday and you should have lunch. Emmet too, probably, but you can get at least one free with this.”

“Oh - er, thank you,” the man replied: “Wouldn’t you want to have it for yourself?”

She shrugged: “I’m not hungry.”

Considering the voracious way she had eaten the majority of the Alomomola’s fins a little more than ten minutes ago, Ingo had his doubts on that, but kept them to himself: “Where can I find the fish and chips man?”

“Red food stand with FISH ‘N’ CHIPS written on it as big as a house.”

“Concise and evocative! Much like you tend to be in your speech.”

Briosa gave him a wide, square smile and signed back a very proud little thank you.

She shooed him off with a half wave goodbye, to which he replied with a gentlemanly dip on his hat; then, as he walked off and Mawile did a few stretching exercises after having sat crumpled like a boiled Clauncher or a roasted Tatsugiri for roughly the past hour, she got to work securing her boat to the pier so that it wouldn’t float away on its lonesome while she wasn’t looking.

Engrossed in the familiar motions as she was (and being very, very deaf), she only noticed the former Subway Master had traced his steps all the way back to her only when she turned around and subsequently almost kicked him across the face with a magnificent vertical split for the spook of seeing him so close out of nowhere.

Luckily, they both survived the mutually inflicted heart attack unscathed.

Emmet would have probably killed her otherwise.

Before she could wheeze an apology, Ingo dug a hand in a plastic bag that had suddenly appeared in his hand and thrust forward a small white container, its two half taped shut by a perhaps excessively long line of papery tape.

She looked at it with wide eyes, not making a single move to take it; so, the taller man pulled his facemask down and told her as clearly as he could: “Fish and chips!”

“Oh!” Briosa squeaked. Either he’d been really fast at ordering, or she was dang slow at mooring her boat – though both possibilities being contemporaneously true wasn’t unlikely, either. She still made no motion towards what she assumed was Ingo’s lunch, which he appeared to be excitedly showing to her awaiting approval like a kid who managed to order an ice cream all on their own for the first time without bursting into tears or hiding behind a chair when the pressure became too much to handle. “Good job. It’s really tasty, hope you enjoy it.”

The other remained perfectly still for a moment, much like her, before extending his arm a little closer to her: “For you,” he specified.

“What?”

“This one is for you.”

Her head shot forward, big broken nose almost bumping into the container while she regarded it with brand new bafflement.

Her gaze returned to Ingo: “For me?” she repeated, voice very high pitched.

He nodded.

“You didn’t have to! I told you to use that Alomomola to get yourself something!”

“I have mine and Emmet’s servings here,” and he shook the bag lightly, careful not to accidentally make an oily mess in there. “I wanted to repay you for inviting me on your boat! I had a very good time.”

Briosa seemed a little stunned. She grabbed the container in a careful, almost suspicious manner, her limbs moving a little stunted until her fingers were finally clasped around the white plastic: she regarded the flavorful package for a couple seconds once it was safely in her grip, still perplexed.

“I’ll share it with the lads,” she concluded at last.

Ingo nodded again: “Food shared with friends can be more enjoyable!”

Mawile translated him, since Briosa was still looking downwards and had completely missed the chance to read his lips; from her small face, she not only seemed to agree wholeheartedly with the sentiment, but also appeared a little exasperated.

Evidently he wasn’t the only one concerned with how much her aidee ate.

The Substitute twisted her mouth briefly, squinting hard and curling up her nose as though reflecting on the words very intently.

At last she faced Ingo again, flat lips curled into a square grin and voice so saccharine and honest that he could feel his teeth rotting as the phonemes left her tongue: “Thank you!”

The man tipped his hat at her again, hoping she could recognize his own smile.

-

Emmet walked into the control room stiffer than a block of cement.

His brother perked up from the chair he had been seated on while waiting for his twin and waved enthusiastically at him.

Softening immediately, Emmet waved back just as cheerfully.

They spent one entire minute waving in perfect silence.

Then Ingo, who must have grown restless from the quiet, raised his other arm and bellowed: “Emmet! I got you food!”

“I am Emmet! I appreciate the thought. I already have food, though. I told you.”

“It’s fish and chips!”

Oh FUCK yeah. “I am Emmet! I will accept the food regardless!”

“NOT inside of the control room!” Eloise shouted, pointing at him with a face that was torn between the wrath of the Dragons and a not particularly silent plea for mercy.

Vip twisted her nose, also grimacing in a terrible way: “Please, boss,” she added. “Last time Briosa brought some we had to call those high-end professional cleaners to get the odor out after three days.”

“Hm.” Emmet noted: “You are right. Better eat elsewhere.”

“LEAVE THE BREAKROOM UNBREACHED,” arose, from afar and shrill with terror, the voice of Depot Agent Hank, whose sense of smell was beyond keen and had been mauled into a delirium during the last incursion of the delicious stench typically emanated from fried tubers and ichthyic matter.

Hm. Also a fair request.

After briefly cycling through the few options remaining in terms for lunch spots, the Subway Master smiled a little wider: “Let’s go to the roof.”

“The roof?” his brother repeated.

“The roof,” he nodded back: “Open air. Smell won’t get caught anywhere.”

A loud array of relieved sighs blessed his choice.

Roof it was.

Ingo followed him diligently as they both made their way back to the elevator, seeming in truth a little curious.

“I had no idea we could go to the roof.”

“I didn’t mention it the first time. Didn’t think of it.”

“I take it it’s not a very popular spot amongst employees?”

“It is!”

“Oh!”

“We come up here sometimes. Good way to destress. Breathe in fresh air. Then back down! Just for a moment of rest.”

“I see. It would be easy to forget about mentioning it, then.”

“Yup. But now you get to see it. As a surprise. Are you excited?”

“I am!”

His brother grinned.

The clouds above them were sparse, but marvelously plump. An astigmatic who’d forgotten their glasses that day could have been led to believe that the biggest Cottonees in the history of Unova were currently leisurely making their way onto a new pasture via a stroll through the stratosphere.

Both twins watched them for a few seconds, the brims of their hats shielding them from the otherwise blinding sun.

Emmet searched in his uniform’s immense pockets, pulling out a couple sandwiches.

“Split?”

“Oh, gladly!”

They sat down near the railing as they got to work unpacking their lunch and handing each half of the food in their possession before finally chowing down, not speaking for a while – their hunger surprised them a little, but considering the morning the other brother must have had they concluded they couldn’t blame one another for being so focused on ravaging what they had.

They got done with the sandwiches first, eating them in a handful of massive bites. The fish and chips stunned them briefly when they opened the plastic containers and the fried aroma they had subjugated until now slammed directly into their noses, long enough for them to digest their appetizers: wisely, they decided that their impromptu picnic’s main course should have probably been enjoyed a little slower. And without the aid of gloves.

“How was it?” the Subway Boss asked as he carefully stripped his hands of the white cotton seconds away before he could soak it in grease. “The boat.”

Ingo blew on a fry before putting it in his mouth: “It was a pleasant experience,” he replied while he munched, palm raised to his mouth so he wouldn’t spit potato at his brother while talking: “I saw quite a few Frillish up close,, fed them kibbles, enjoyed the sun, and had some raw Alomomola fins as a snack.”

“Yum.”

“Yes, they were rather tasty! And with an interesting texture to boot.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

The tone was genuine enough, but Ingo couldn’t help but furrow his brow: “You did seem rather worried about it. Did you have an unpleasant trip on a boat yourself, or–”

His brother slurped up three fries at once, almost choking: “Oh – no no no. I am Emmet. I am just verrry afraid of the sea,” he explained a little embarrassedly. “I didn’t know. Briosa didn’t know either. She took me on her boat once. That’s how I discovered I don’t like the sea. I panicked. Started crying. Breathing hard. She took me right back. Haven’t been on a boat since.”

His twin’s eyes widened: “I had no idea!”

“It’s ok! I didn’t either. It’s a recent development.”

“Still, Briosa didn’t mention any of this to me! Though she did inquire if I would have been comfortable on a vast body of water before offering to take me on this excursion… Did she not do the same for you?”

“Nope! She’s lived in Driftveil her whole life. Lots of boats, and the sea at her door. Nobody’s afraid of the water there. Comes with the job. She didn’t even imagine it could have frightened me. I am verrry glad she asked you about it first! It makes me feel a bit more relieved.”

The breaded fish – Alomomola, likely, as Basculin was much tougher under the teeth – crunched pleasantly as they bit down on it. A nice breeze had picked up, and after meticulously licking their fingers clean they removed their hats before they could fly off of their heads and down into the streets of Nimbasa, inevitably getting crushed under a hundred busy feet or ending up held aloft by trembling hands like a relic before being auctioned for who knows how much on some online site where no one questioned where the sellers would get their wares.

“She’s an awfully strange woman,” Ingo mused.

“Man.” Emmet corrected.

“What?”

“Briosa is a man.”

(The small, extremely strange exchange between the Substitute and Clay suddenly made a lot more sense.)

“Oh! Thank goodness I never said anything to his face.”

“Her.”

“What?”

“She’s a man.”

“Oh, but the…?”

“Yup.”

“I see!” he gladly accepted a gulp from the water bottle offered to him, washing the oily flavor from his mouth before he could dig back in. “I had no idea…”

“It’s alright! A common mistake.”

“Thank you for telling me either way. I would’ve been mortified to make such a faux pas in her presence.”

His brother gestured reassuringly as he drank a little himself.

Ingo had another fry.

“She remains a strange man.”

“Yup, yup! Verrry weird. Nice, but verrry weird.”

“Did you know she had no idea there was a Driftveil City gym leader?”

Emmet sputtered pieces of fish everywhere with a bewildered expression.

“What,” he wheezed.

“When we arrived at the dock, we met Clay – he gives you his love, by the way–”

“Hm! How was he?”

“He was doing fine, it seemed! We spoke a little, it was lovely to be introduced to him again – but Briosa did not recognize him at all! She had no clue who he was! I assume she thought him a reporter, because the first thing she did upon seeing him was shouting obscenities at him to make him leave.”

“Oof. Poor Clay. Briosa goes hard on the insults.”

“Yes, I’ve had the chance to discover that.”

They snickered to themselves.

The sun was warm on their shoulders; the city mumbled and grumbled somewhere further away, all around them yet also completely severed from them.

Their appetites sated as the fried mixture of fish and tubers began settling at the bottom of the stomach with the weight of a concrete column, the twins stretched their arms and backs to fight against the grogginess that followed a satisfying lunch. Ingo pulled himself to his feet and paced leisurely around the roof, always careful to remain in Emmet’s sight. Hands cleaned and hat placed back on his head, he turned to the world beyond the petrol green tiles.

He could see the desert from here.

At least, a chunk of it. Tall rocky walls stretched forth, shielding the city from the onslaught of debris that seemed to never cease.

The route which crossed it was a stretch of dulled bronze, hazy from the sand lifted and thrown about by restless winds, interrupted in its middle by an elevated road and seemingly emerging from a long structure of crystalline glass and light turquoise metal that, on its other end, led into Nimbasa itself – connecting their antithetical worlds, so completely opposite from one another in every way and yet so geographically close. If he squinted he could begin to make out a large shadow beyond the granular storm, something squarish and dark: perhaps another city? Another haven from the heat and dunes, forcing the winds to billow and howl within the modern walls of a (mostly) man-made canyon?

He could not see the rest of it, nor the ruined castle Briosa had mentioned.

“Have we ever been to the desert?” he asked without looking away.

His brother hummed as he stood back up and walked to be at his side: “Nope. Uncle Alder comes from there, though. But we’ve never been there.”

“Alder?”

“I didn’t mention him?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Our uncle’s friend. Former Champion. Was born in the desert. Now he travels.”

“Former Champion!” Ingo mused. “We know a lot of powerful trainers, it seems.”

Emmet grinned: “Yup, yup! Happens when you’re verrry good at battling.”

The former Subway Boss smiled back, inclined to agree.

His eyes wandered back to the dark silhouette beyond the sandstorm.

“That’s Castellia City,” his brother informed him without even needing to be asked. “Verrry big. Verrry noisy.”

“Noisier than Nimbasa?”

“Worse! Too many people. Like rush hour at the Station, everywhere, all the time. Though Burgh is there too. Artist. Bug-type gym leader. Verrry nice. He livestreamed your rescue for us. But! He comes over, too. I can call him. We can have a fun time out. Us, Elesa and Burgh. Maybe battle! He’d be happy to see you.”

That would have been a welcome alternative to going to such an overwhelming place, Ingo reasoned.

Still, he couldn’t shake from his bones a certain antsy eagerness, a restless desire to explore. The wondrous nocturnal sights that had rushed past him on his so far only venture on a subway train still flashed against his eyelids sometimes, begging him to wander back into their once familiar unknown and reacquaint himself with it, make it his own again.

He wondered how much he’d once seen of the region. 

His hand gently gripped the railing.

“I would like that,” he replied truthfully. “And I would love to explore Unova as well.”

Emmet tried not to flinch and failed.

His brother’s hand moved to hold his, gently squeezing his palm to calm him down: “We can go together,” he offered. “It could be a journey of our own – you could be my chaperone! You might even use this occasion to pull the brakes and enjoy a short vacation. It’s been brought to my attention that you… You haven’t taken much time for yourself, in these past years.”

The other stiffened. He held his hand back nonetheless.

“Can’t,” he wheezed at last. “I… Too short notice. I need to plan… New shifts, and schedules, and… I don’t – I don’t, want. To. To…”

“Leave the station so suddenly?”

That wasn’t what he meant; Ingo knew that. Emmet swallowed: “Yes.”

The older twin massaged his knuckles comfortingly: “I wouldn’t want to derail your routine so drastically, then. But I do wish to explore Unova. I was planning on taking short treks through it, just to enjoy the scenery. Certainly the subway touches picturesque locations on its many winding rails?”

He was planning to visit him in the Station after each trip, to reassure him he had not vanished again as soon as he had taken his eyes off of him.

It was a sweet sentiment, dripping with earnest intentions; but there would have still been long, impossibly long stretches of time between their parting in the morning and those reunions, and he would have had to wait through those terrible moments just like he’d had to wait for someone, anyone, to call him again and tell him something – even something as terrible as ‘I’m sorry’.

“Remember safety checks,” he recited quietly, as their uncle would recite to Alder: “Bring water and snacks. And bandaids. Cover your head. Keep your XTransceiver charged. Call often. Set the number for emergencies to be dialed in case of damage.”

“I can do that?”

“Yup.”

“Do you have the time to show me how to? It would be better to get it done right now, no matter what my plans might be.”

Emmet sniffed and nodded. A weight lifted itself from his chest.

They sat down, tinkering on the device together.