#chaos pikachu writes

[chaos0pikachu]

Boston arrives in New York, and he doesn't thrive, nor he doesn't take the city by storm. He does, however, grow, with a slow assured steadiness that only comes from realizing that life doesn't end at 22. Or Mew said Boston couldn't change, but since when the hell has Boston ever let others tell him who he is or could be?

Yeah, yeah, everyone's moved on from the series but my ass is still here thinking about Boston and his ending. Idk if calling this a "fix it" applies, so much as an exploration of what the show gave us and giving Boston a new community of which to belong to. Oh and I'm bringing Boeing back and giving him an actual char cause I wanna

Anyway enjoy my first fic in almost seven years

[dipplinduo]

Context: This poll, which will be active throughout the duration of this one If there's at least 50% in favor I'm going to flip a coin

If there's more than 50% I will remove it as an option by ignoring her results entirely and just going down the list LOOL

((You may also be interested in voting on this poll, which will affect Chapter 19 as well)

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader—General HCs

(A/N): I’m obsessed with the Barbie movie. Margot is so stunning as always and she’s one of my favorite actresses. I absolutely adored Ken in the movie. He’s such an icon! Let me know if you guys want more! Sorry if this isn’t the best. This is my first head cannon and I’m using to writing stories and not this format. So beware with me and enjoy!

Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader

The ultimate Golden Retriever (Sunshine) x Black Cat (Grumpy) trope

Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader is honestly very similar to Cruella de Vil from the 2021 Film—minus being evil part. More so, your creativity and chaos vibes are on the same level as Cruella’s.

Ken thought he was in love with Stereotypical Barbie until he locked eyes on you.

You were absolutely perfect. Your style was one of a kind and the hottest in-style in Barbieland—everyone wanted to commission outfits from you— and you seemed so elegant and confident.

Non Evil!Cruella de Vil vibes 1,000,000,000%

He literally tripped right in front of you in his haste to make it over to you, but he pulled himself up and gave you a killer golden smile.

You wanted to say you weren’t amused in the slightest, but even you couldn’t help but give a slight smirk at his goofball antics.

You’d never given him much thought beyond the facts that he was super loud, always freakishly happy, acted like a shaken up soda bottle you accidentally opened up.

You thought you might be able to scared him away with your sharp wit, sarcastic and mocking smart remarks. You were sure that your over all jaded and blunt personality would do the trick.

NOPE!

He falls even harder for you. Finding your honestly, transparency, and overall confidence to be so endearing but so unbelievably HOT. Not even Stereotypical Barbie could touch your level.

Imagine his surprise when he finds out you and stereotypical Barbie are very close friends who go way back. TOTAL Pikachu face!

He loves watching you work. You’re so in your element and hyper focused on what your doing. He’s left in awe while watching you tear apart and shred different fabrics. It’s total chaos but he’d never question you. He trusts your masterpiece process almost religiously.

He asks you a zillion and one questions about what you’re doing but lowkey you kind of love it. Someone taking a genuine interest in your art? Everyone else is either too afraid of the consequences of interrupting you or is uninterested in gerenal.

This is one of the many small things that soften your resolve towards him. 

He insisted totally begged you to let him help you carry your bolts of fabrics, material for accessories, and supplies as you went from shop to shop. He refused to let you carry anything.

He talks the whole time and doesn’t really think you’re listening, until you ask him a question about whatever it is he’s babbling about at that point in time.

He could feel the tears of joy welling up in his eyes at the notion that you were actually listening. That could only mean one thing—you respected him.

Don’t even get me started on how Ken acts when you ask for his opinion on a decision or if he likes what you’ve made! He LOVES everything you make btw.

This only sets Ken’s love for you in stone.

Totally asks to be your date to the Barbies parties.

If you thought he was nervous asking out Stereotypical Barbie then oh boy! Fingers crossed, eyes squeezed shut, lip biting—the whole nine yards!

High-key wants to cry when you say yes.

Everyone is always so excited to see the new unveiling of your outfits at any and all parties.

Barbies and Kens never really know what to expect but they all know they’ll be guaranteed the best appearance from you.

Ken is totally smug af that he holds your affections and so he completely and unapologetically rubs it in the other Kens’ faces. 

The first time you genuinely smile at him, he really thought he might die! Your smile is so stunning, perfect, opulent, gorgeous, goddess like, and—

He could go on forever. The point is, you smiled at him! HIM. You never smile at anyone! You smirk plenty, but never smile.

Even on the rare occasion that you do, it’s very small—almost none existent.

You always thought he was very funny. He never had to try hard seeing as he was just a naturally silly fella, but the first time you couldn’t hold back and you laughed loudly at something he said, he was in absolute awestruck.

What he said wasn’t even that funny, it was the way he said it.

All the Barbies and Kens ship the two of you. The definition of opposites attract.

Stereotypical Barbie is totally the official president of the OTP ship fan club for you two.

1000% you look at Ken like this 🥺🥹 and you look at everyone else like this 😒🖕 pretty much!

The patience and softness you exercise with Ken makes others feel like they’ve fallen through the looking glass.

You go from being a ferocious she-lion like this to a total mushy docile kitten with him Like this

Seriously, it so easy for you to snap on someone’s case and put them in their places, but with Ken you have a seemingly bottomless pool of patience.

Legit tho. This was you and him at the beginning of your budding relationship in general…you were over it at first. You really weren’t tho

Someone or something please help the person that hurts Ken—accident or not—whether it be emotionally, physically, or mentally. It’s gonna be a dark day in Barbieland.

It warms Ken all over to have a girlfriend who cares about him and his wellbeing so much. He feels so important, loved, and cherished.

And that’s all baby boy really wants!!!

He loves holding hands and linking arms together.

He’d say it’s his favorite but let’s face it, cuddles are his kryptonite.

Your embrace is so warm and soothing, and surprisingly to him, you secretly adore cuddling.

Though you did tell him if he ever told anyone else that tidbit of information you would never cuddle him again! 

Honey…He sticks to those words like the gospel!

He cannot and will not lose cuddling privileges💯

Now listen. If Ken’s going to date you then his outfits got to be on point, and you make sure of it. You know what he loves outfit-wise and set to work for making him a one of a kind wardrobe.

He actually does cry when he sees the final product of all your hard work for him.

You hate seeing him cry in anyway, it hurts you to see him cry, but at least these are tears of happiness.

You suppose you can live with happy tears…

You guys become the IT couple in Barbieland. You’re the highest standard for couple goals.

Speaking of boyfriend/girlfriend goals.

He has so many adorable nicknames for you but he will never grow tired of hearing you call him by the term of endearment you chose for him.

You call him Baby Darling…

He. Is. OBSESSED!!!

He just about melts into a puddle whenever you call him Baby Darling.

He’s never heard any other Barbie call their Ken that and it makes him feel so special.

Who else loves and ships Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader?

[chaos0pikachu]

Betraying your friend by hooking up with their boyfriend is a shitty thing to do, but isn't a crime unless you're still living under the Hays Code; recording someone during sex without their consent, blackmailing them with said revenge porn, and falsely accusing someone of assault are, in fact, real crimes.

Guess which things Boston has done and which were done by the characters the narrative has empathy towards

cause actually when you compare what boston has done to the shit other characters have done, he’s really not that bad and yet somehow he’s the seen as the worst

[imaginatorcreates]

Nimbasa Trio! Soul Resonance!

25 July 2024 — 30 July 2024

Summary: Lord Death calls upon the Nimbasa Trio to deliver a pep talk / demonstration to the students of DWMA. Along the way, Elesa (meister) reminiscences on how the three of them deviated from the standard path of fighting evil. Oh, and there's a Kishin egg somewhere in the mix, but the pep talk was more important.

Word Count: ~3.9k words

Author’s Note: Listen. Soul Eater gripped me back when I watched it years ago. It was only a matter of time before I started writing a Soul Eater inspired thing.

Important!: Please keep in mind that my knowledge on Pokemon is close to zero. I'm mostly here because of the Submas Twins. Most knowledge comes from Detective Pikachu (which I should rewatch), absorption of basic terms via mild osmosis (TY to my close friend of over a decade), Discord friends, and infodumps to my Tumblr inbox. Feel free to expand my knowledge though!

Also on AO3

(notes may differ between Tumblr and AO3)

Elesa was fully aware that she was an only child. She had always had all the attention of her parents, may that be separately or joint force. She had learned to share via her classmates, and her house had been devoid of other kids around her age unless playdates had been approved by everyone’s parents.

She had been praised to be pretty from a young age, having components of her parents that people have always said mashed well together. She had been praised about how strong and friendly her soul was, one that would easily resonate with others if she so chose to venture down the path of a meister.

She didn’t exactly care about any of that when she was younger. What she had cared about was how lonely she was.

So to no one’s surprise but her parents, when she was eight, she latched onto a pair of identical kids and declared them to be her friends. No playdate approval. No stiff conversations because “just because the parents were friends didn’t mean the kids were friends” either. These kids were her chosen friends.

Sure, there were struggles at first. The combination of Elesa’s enthusiasm alongside the twins’ own should’ve caused a large clashing of personality. In spite of that, the trio stayed together. The twins introduced themselves first as Ingo and Emmet, then as demon weapons who could turn into a pair of knives.

“Daggers sound cooler, so we say that we’re dagger twins!” Ingo had explained to Elesa. Emmet frantically nodded along, bouncing around the two as if on a pogo stick.

Despite being twins, the Ingo and Emmet were complete opposites. Ingo little to no volume control (the amount of times that Elesa swore that she would never need an alarm clock again if she lived with the twins was too numerous to remember), while Emmet moved around so often without so much of an utterance of his voice that Elesa had relied on how his footsteps sounded to know that he was around. Ingo frowned in red, then in black despite his joy. Emmet smiled in blue, then in white despite his discomfort.

But what the two were opposites in, Elesa also found that they also complimented each other. And with such compliments, she wriggled herself in between them and found the perfect piece of the puzzle that she’d been trying to solve for so long.

Friends.

She shared Emmet’s boundless energy and Ingo’s chattermouth. She didn’t share their height at first — something that Emmet had tried to impulsively fight her on after she tried to physically drag him down — but as the trio grew out of single digit ages, she shot past them and stayed a comfortable two inches taller than them. She liked reminding them of it sometimes.

Something that the trio also shared was a well-controlled level of chaos. It wasn’t enough for any adults to raise concern over any of the trio developing a madness wavelength, but it was enough for said adults to shout at the children to be careful. What each person had to be careful about differed: the twins had to be careful about their demon weapon transformations and to not accidentally get stuck in weapon form, and Elesa had to be careful to not try wielding either twin.

Of course being children, no one listened. Perhaps that was why the trio was one of the best weapon-meister groups in their not-so-humble opinion. Of course, that had gone to their heads just a little bit when they had enrolled in the DWMA’s E.A.T. program, only to have encountered changes in their desires of future careers.

“I am Emmet. Hear me out.”

“Hearing.”

“You’re being listened to.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Thank Death you said it first!” Elesa had exclaimed. She remembered that she had been lounging on the trio’s couch in their rented apartment, their AC unit chugging away the hot air of Nevada. “I’m not too interested in fighting evil on a daily basis either.”

“I considered this to be a back-up after our last mission,” Ingo had added. “We’re some of the best, I agree. But even this three-car train needs a change in maintenance to keep its engines running.”

“We caaan’t quit the program though,” Emmet had huffed. The corners of his mouth had downturned slightly, giving his signature smile a frog-like appearance. “That’ll be considered defeat. I looove winning more than anything.”

The twins had glanced at each other, and with just a few twitches of their eyes and shrugs of their shoulders Elesa had known they were doing twin-to-twin communication. A feeling of unease had started to build in her. Looking back, she probably should’ve spoken up sooner, or at least had broken the silent communication. “I — ”

“Nope!”

“Not it!”

“You doofuses! Why do I have to talk to Lord Death about this?”

“Because yooou’re our meister!”

“We’re just following the rules we set up here. Last one who jumps out has to do it.”

Elesa had given both twins a frustrated huff before she had gripped onto both of their suspenders. “Then, as your meister, I demand that both of my weapons be there so you two can explain your future paths.”

Their complaints had stopped the second the trio had decided to race up the stars of the DWMA. It had given everyone enough time to formulate their words to Lord Death, and afterwards, to start formulating where to get jobs after they graduate.

------

If there was something that Elesa loved about where she currently lives, it had to be the transportation system. It was reliable and efficient. Best of all, her boys worked there, directing passengers and shouting out orders.

Now, she hardly calls them “her boys” in public or in front of the camera. Reporters and the paparazzi would eat those words up out of context and spit out atrocious stories that might sully her image. No, she only called them “her boys” when the three were off duty. She admits, that had been a while ago. However, between her boys being the bosses of the subway system (with select cars being perfect training grounds for weapon-meister pairs while traveling), and her own job of being a model and owner of a Death-approved weapon-meister training facility, things were busy.

So of course, it was only during some of their time off — movie night at Elesa’s apartment — did Lord Death call the trio over to the DWMA for a demonstration.

“Because you three are some of the best and worst students I’ve ever had!” Death explained over the phone. Seemingly ignoring the shouts of indignation, he only started to ramble on about various stories that he remembered about the trio in their schooling days. The narratives varied between laughable to embarrassing, and it was only until the trio shouted at Death loud enough to cause neighbors to start knocking on the door did Death return to the main topic at hand.

“I’d like the three of you to visit the DWMA for a pep talk for our current batch of students. Demonstration. Pep demonstration.”

Elesa could already see the comical way that Death was posing as he said this, and it only made her blood pressure rise.

“Pardon the interruption, but why us?” Ingo asked.

“Because you three nearly dropped out of the E.A.T. program!” Ignoring the shouts from the trio, Death continued. “I admit, I was surprised! But I’m not one to fail students without good reason. You three gave me a good reason to not fail you. Running a training facility and train in your home city? You three must send me souvenirs when you visit! Travel and lodging expenses have already been paid for, so I’ll see you soon!”

The phone call ended with a click.

That started up a racket. Only after pacing, muttering, yelling at each other, and downing some pizza did the trio admit defeat. There wasn’t really a way they could wriggle out of this.

“Boys.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah?”

“Whoever doesn’t pack their bags two days before departure day has to pay for souvenirs for Death.”

“Understood.”

“Bet. Not losing.”

------

Elesa gets nervous plenty of times. Before a photoshoot, when schedules change, when she spots reporters and paparazzi on her commute. But she had tactics. She would stand in front of a mirror, feet shoulder width apart and hands on her hips. She would breathe in and out and would hold the pose until she felt like she could walk into a room and ace the challenge.

“Ingo, Emmet. The purpose of this is to feel powerful,” she said as the three powerposed in the hallway just outside the gymnasium. “You’re supposed to stand still and be silent. Clear your mind of thoughts.”

Emmet’s smile on his face was tense as he bounced between one foot and the other. “I am Emmet, and I need to move to relax.”

“This engine needs ample time to warm up before running, and this is the sound of it warming up,” Ingo said before continuing to mutter under his breath, his frown deeper set on his face.

“You two literally run a battle subway! You interact with hundreds of people daily, and what makes you nervous is standing in front of a bunch of kids?”

“Kids are verrry wild!”

“These kids are also looking up to us as their alumni. To set the expectations so high only to fail to meet them…it would be a blow to the school and ourselves!”

Elesa glanced between the two of them. Just watching the two trying to dispel their nervous energy caused some of her residual nerves to try to build up again. However, she shook out her hands and stomped her foot on the ground. “We are the Nimbasa Trio! We carry the pride and joy of our district far beyond New York city! We’re the best of the best out there, and we’re the best of the best here!”

She struck a pose, one manicured hand pointed up and the other one pointed down. Her puffy yellow jacket made her upper body look like an appealing plate of fluffy scrambled eggs, and she shook out her black hair so they fell at just the right angle around her red and blue headphones. Her electric blue eyes shone with determination and pride. “We’re the Nimbasa trio!”

Emmet was the first to join in on her posing. He dropped into a squat and raised one of his arms up while pointing the other one forwards. He stuck one foot out and his smile grew. “I am Emmet, and we’re the Nimbasa trio!”

Ingo joined in, raising one of his arms and keeping the other pointed downwards. To Elesa’s joy, he allowed himself to slightly cock out one of his hips as the corners of his frown turned upwards, resulting in a cat-like expression. “We’re the Nimbasa Trio! All aboard!”

“All aboard!” echoed Emmet.

“Our team will be the next one to make your heads spin!” Elesa announced. Build up that confidence, and natural charisma will follow!

“Well, I guess there’s no need to announce who you are, seeing how we can all hear you loud and clear,” Death suddenly said as he popped up behind the trio. “Stop screaming, I was here all along!” He gave an annoyingly cutesy peace sign that did nothing to calm Elesa’s racing heart from the scare. “I already told everyone no recordings of any sort are allowed unless they want to fail their next exam. Or get fired.” He quickly started to push the trio towards the door of the gymnasium as he said, “Now go along and I’ll be enjoying those wonderful souvenirs you three definitely got for your dear ol’ headmaster!”

Just when Emmet was about to swipe at Death with both hands, Death disappeared. “I am Emmet! Stop doing that!”

“He can be perfectly on schedule and we can still miss him. How does he do it?” Ingo mused. He stroked his chin and gave a huff of irritation. “I wonder how his current batch of passengers manage to keep up with his erratic changes.”

Elesa loved her boys. She really did. But there was a certain point of patience she had when there was something that required her utmost charisma, and unfortunately, being around her boys lowered her charm and replaced it with the strong urge to be goofy. While she would rather be goofing off with the twins instead of being presentable in front of the current batch of students at the DWMA, she couldn’t exactly disobey the orders of the headmaster that allowed the trio to pursue their current paths in life.

She cleared her throat and tapped on her wrist. “Let’s stay on schedule.”

“Right!”

------

The second the trio presented themselves to the crowd of eclectic students, any and all nerves melted away. To the sides were the E.A.T. students and in the middle were the N.O.T. students. Elesa could see confident and bored expressions on the E.A.T. students, with some blatantly paying more attention to the unheard conversation they were having amongst themselves. Contrast that with the eager and nervous faces of the N.O.T. students and one could easily tell whom this talk was supposed to be towards.

The trio easily captured the attention of everyone with a loud yell of “All Aboard!” and a pose. The twins flanked Elesa with a large swoosh of their capes while pointing towards the audience. Elesa took one knee to the ground and threw her arms out in one of her signature poses. People have often said how it accentuated her limbs or something, but that was mostly modeling business. She did that pose because it made her feel powerful. It started in her chest and bloomed outwards until it spread through her entire body.

“Good morning DWMA!” Ingo announced. Even without the microphone provided, his voice easily echoed through the walls of the gymnasium. Several students perked up and actually paid attention. “It’s a bright day in Death City, Nevada. Before we get started, we have to set a few safety rules down.”

“Stay in your seats!” Emmet piped up. It took a bit more effort for his voice to carry through the room, to which he resorted to using the microphone. “It keeps things verrry orderly for us!”

“I’m sure that Lord Death had told you already, but no recordings of this talk are to be taken or shared with anyone.” Elesa rose from her position and flipped her hair. Gone was her smile; instead, a serious and stoic gaze was plastered on her face. “We may have our faces plastered on the internet due to our jobs, but that doesn’t mean that we consent to such today.”

“I’m sure many of you are amateurs anyways.”

Ingo gasped. “Emmet!”

Introductions were supposed to be brief. Of course, when one had a reputation, questions were sure to follow once people had confirmation that the face and name matched. There had been plenty of unrelated questions towards how much money the trio made (“Strictly confidential!”), modeling careers (“It’s a matter of connections, genetic lottery, and not something you easily study for in school”), how the train managed to stay running despite battles on it (“Not telling!”), and plenty more inquiries that more or less had repeated answers.

After clawing their way out of the ocean of questions, the trio managed to start sharing the information that Death actually wanted them to share: the idea of changing careers when it didn’t match one’s enrolled class.

As the trio shared their story, Elsa’s eyes moved over the mass of students out there, hoping that their anecdotes helped soothe some of the minds of the students. She remembered the day that the stray thought of ‘Is this what you really want to do for the rest of your life?�� crossed her mind. It ate at her every waking hour and followed her to bed. It had festered as she spared with her classmates and grew until it had burst from her mouth in a declaration that had been swept underneath the rug of exam season: “I need a break.”

Sure, the talk with Lord Death at the time had been nerve-wracking. It was expected that all E.A.T. students were to continue on that path and not stray. It had taken some persuasion, along with laying out some half-formed but passionate plans, but the trio had been able to graduate their E.A.T. program and march off to a different path.

They had to send Death official reports of their businesses every couple of months, as well as take care of any Kishin eggs that happened to spawn in New York, but it was better than being frontline soldiers and risking their lives daily.

Yeah. Elesa was happy with her decision.

So of course, it was only near the end of the talk did things go sideways.

A window high above the gymnasium shattered inwards, glass raining down on a large group of students. The staff at the edges of the crowd of students braced for the high possibility of attack and for defending the students, a few of the demon weapons already transforming in preparation for combat. Orders that were barked out told the E.A.T. students present to not engage and to focus on protecting the N.O.T. students. Already there were a few shouts of protest, but when the intruder revealed themself to be a meister-weapon pair, the students’ attentions moved back towards defending their classmates.

“Kishin?” Elesa curtly asked the twins.

“Verrry possible,” Emmet said.

“This may not be our district anymore, but we are its alumni.” Ingo threw a glance towards his younger twin, then towards Elesa. “And these passengers are quickly approaching a yellow line that’s moving towards them.”

“Then let’s go!” Elesa thrust her hands out to her sides and started running towards the rogue Kishin pair. A pair of flashes poked at her peripheral vision before two familiar knives settled into her hands. She didn’t even have to peek to know which colors were in each hand; at this point, it didn’t matter which hand wielded which twin. Elesa sent out her soul’s wavelengths towards the two demon weapons in her hands and felt them respond. Perfect, the basics of soul resonance were achieved. She dug deep into her soul and prepared to boost her boys’ abilities.

Elesa leapt towards the Kishin and twisted her body to one side to barely avoid a morning star being swung into her side. The sharp spikes on the end of the round metal ball nicked her yellow puffer coat though, tearing into the waterproof material. She hissed, not out of pain, but frustration. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “This is quality material! You’re not allowed to tear it!”

She threw one of the knives towards the Kishin. The silvery-gray blade glinted in the fluorescent lights and she could briefly see a wide grin reflected in the metal. The Kishin pair leapt up and towards Elesa, missing the knife completely.

However, Elesa had foresaw this possibility. How many times had she sparred with her classmates and experienced this? She threw her other knife into the air — it was identical save for the black handle — and shouted, “Rebounding tracks!”

The white knife switched directions and flew towards the black knife. It managed to slice into the Kishin pair and send a brief electric shock through the pair. Elesa amplified the electricity before she leapt up to catch the white knife and throw the black knife. The knife enveloped itself in hot purple flames and embedded itself into the abdomen of the kenshin’s meister. The electric shock from Emmet’s electric soul would’ve temporarily disabled any soul resonance between the meister and weapon, as well as caused the meister’s muscles to cramp.

With a simple amplification and a blink, the meister’s body was aflame. Uninhibited, Ingo’s fire soul would’ve burned everything to ashes, body and soul. However, Elesa was sure that Lord Death would want to get a look at this intruder and provide proper punishment, so she raised her free hand and the black knife flew back into it.

The most important part right now was to get the meister and weapon separated.

She ignored the painful screams of the meister and discarded her puffer coat. With that, she wriggled in between the kenshin pair and pressed her knives where they’d work best: Emmet against the weapon and Ingo against the meister. She sent out her own soul wavelength towards the two and muttered, “We’re the Nimbasa Trio.”

Energetic sparks and warm flames enveloped her own soul as each knife sent out their specialties. Only this time, amongst the purple flames that burned at the meister’s body were small sparks of electricity. Amongst the yellow lines of electricity that worked to dismantle the weapon’s current form were small licks of fire.

And right in between them, was a soul that glowed as it sent out pulses of energy towards the two. Elesa’s arms slowly started to move further apart as the meister’s grip on their weapon started to slacken. With a final burst of energy, her arms fully extended and broke apart the kenshin pair. She could hear the twin’s voices echo in her head as she gave herself a moment to breathe.

Bravo Elesa and Emmet! What a well polished-engine we still are!

Verrry much so!

“Weapon first?”

Promptly.

Of course!

Just as she took a few steps towards the weapon, who had shifted to their human form now, Death suddenly manifested and gathered up the discarded kenshin pair. “Magnificent work as always! I had every bit of faith in you three, but for the moment you three needed help, that’s when our regular staff would’ve jumped in. I didn’t think that we’d need too much of their help though, so I hoped they took notes on your work!” He waggled a finger at the trio and added, “Glad to see the proof of your words up close! You three really haven’t gotten rusty.”

Elesa. Lemme at him.

Emmet! No! We’re not going to attack our headmaster!

I am Emmet, and he keeps doing this! Aaalways tricking students!

I too detest his tricks, but we’re not going to have to make others make safety checks right now.

Elesa ignored the twins bickering in the shared headspace and instead gripped their handles tighter. “Death,” she hissed, “you cheater of a god. You owe me a new yellow puffer!”

“Ah, touché.”

Elesa tossed both knives behind her before feeling arms hook into her own. She didn’t have to look to her sides to see who the familiar knife-shaped sideburns belonged to, nor did she hesitate when the three of them walked out without a second glance back.

Yeah, they may have graduated from the E.A.T. program at DWMA, but their skills learned there didn’t define their paths. So as soon as Elesa got a new yellow puffer and the trio were checked over for any injuries, Ingo asked, “How about a movie?”

“The claaasic!”

Elesa laughed. “You goofy boys.”

[littlemisspascal]

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet in Time

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Rating: T

Warnings: Pokémon au (but not 100% true to canon, just elements + some characters), time skips in non-linear manner, fluff, angst, bittersweet ending, storms, language, Reader and Frankie are same age + grow up together, high school au ish(?), inspired by 500 Days of Summer + Song of Achilles' 'name one hero who was happy' scene + this quote by photographer David Alan Harvey:

"Don't shoot what it looks like. Shoot what it feels like."

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is mentioned to have hair, a career, wear a dress (no description), and eat sandwiches

Author Note: I've been wanting to write a Pokémon au for a long, long, long time and I've also been wanting to write a non-linear fic for a long, long, long time as well so this is the result of both those wants combining forces *awkwardly throws it into the universe* It is what it is.

-- all moodboard photos found on pinterest

-- shinx, luxio, luxray // pikachu photo references

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me through my breakdowns 💜

Day 1,695

Luxray’s a silent wall of black and blue fur for your body to brace against as the sky bleeds a deep shade of orange, and you know he knows. Doesn’t even have to use his x-ray vision to confirm what’s etched into every line of your expression. Anguish—when it’s real and unbearable and deeply-rooted—is impossible to hide. Everyone who looks at you will know. 

Everyone except the one pair of brown eyes that’ll never look your way again.

“I’m such an idiot,” you say quietly, and it’s embarrassing how thick the lump of emotion is lodged in your throat. You wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “So damn stupid.”

Luxray lets out a low growl, chiding in nature, as if to say don’t talk shit about yourself. 

“He was never going to stay,” you continue, ignoring the vibration rattling your bones. “But I got my hopes up anyways. What we’ve accomplished these last few weeks together, I thought there was a chance…a slim one, you know? That maybe–maybe we could actually stick together this time.”

And you don’t realize you’re crying until Luxray’s twisting his head to nuzzle against your temple, encouraging you to bury your face into the thick fur along his chest and shoulders. With your eyes squeezed shut, you can almost block out the all-encompassing numbness emanating from the cavity your heart used to reside in.

“He’s gone…” you choke out through sobs, grabbing fistfuls of Luxray’s inky black mane. “And I think it’s permanent this time.”

Day 1

The first day of classes at Uva Academy is a whirlwind of meeting teachers, racing from one floor to the next against the clock, and making sure you never lose track of Shinx in the chaos of it all, but when the last bell finally rings, you feel no sting of regret about coming here. 

You split a sandwich with Shinx underneath a tree in the school courtyard, brain buzzing with the overload of information absorbed throughout the day. Maybe signing up for a full schedule of classes was a bit excessive, but unlike most of your fellow students who have some semblance of a plan for their futures your next steps are plagued with uncertainty. There are so many paths one can take with their Pokémon—the course of a Trainer, a Coordinator, a Professor, a Ranger, the list goes on and on—you don’t know which direction to take.

When you lock eyes with a boy with brown eyes across the yard, there’s nothing special about the moment. No sparks, no forgetting how to breathe. He’s just a boy with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“I saw you in Mr. Jacq’s class,” he says in lieu of a greeting when he draws closer, purple Academy tie loose and crooked around his neck. Recognition stirs in the back of your mind, a flash of dark brown curls towards the back of the room spotted before taking your seat at the front. 

Actually, now that you think about it…

“Weren’t you in Ms. Dendra’s class too?” you wonder, passing the last bite of sandwich to Shinx, his little body wiggling eagerly. “And Ms. Raifort’s…?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t really know what I want to do yet.” He scuffs at the ground with his shoe, grin turning a bit crooked at the corner, strangely endearing in its awkwardness. “I figure life’s short, you know? Why not try as many things as you can when you have the chance?”

“Right,” you agree, finding yourself smiling back. “Nothing wrong with making memories.”

"I'm Frankie, by the way."

“Nice to meet you Frankie,” you say, shaking his hand. It’s warm in your grip, firm and secure, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And so it starts after that—the counting of days. Days when you see him in class, when he smiles at you, when he does homework with you in the library, when he and Pikachu have a battle against you and Shinx–winner buys lunch. It’s a subconscious quirk you keep to yourself. Even after he’s gone, chasing after legends to the far corners of the earth, you still continue counting days.

Days when he crosses your mind. Days when you leave the door unlocked in case he stops by. Days when you swear you catch a whiff of his citrus shampoo on the pillowcase despite the impossibility of it.

There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Day 183

“I want my name in one of these books,” he tells you, Ms. Raifort’s assigned reading on the lost explorers of Area Zero spread out in front of him.

You look up from the text, fatalities and disaster and other sharp words with teeth still swimming in your head. “It won’t be easy.”

You’ve only known him six months—long enough to be certain you’ll never meet anyone else like him, but too short to realize the hidden depths of his stubborn ambition.

“No,” he agrees, mouth curling up at the corner, “but it’ll be one hell of a story.”

Day 8

The air is heavy with the sharp, pungent scent of ozone as thunder rumbles overhead. You take in the ominous black clouds, adjusting the hood of your yellow coat to better defend your hair against the pattering raindrops. Doesn’t do much to ward off the chill of the wind though.

Shinx is darting about the meadow in zigzagging lines, wet to the bone and having a blast. Pikachu follows at his heels, electricity sparking from the red circles of her cheeks before fizzling out harmlessly. If there’s any rules to this game they’re playing, you haven’t a clue. Still, their obvious excitement over the weather has you smiling despite the numbness of your toes in soggy shoes.

To your left, Frankie watches the pair of Pokémon nimbly leap over a puddle, studying their graceful movements. His dark hair is flattened against his head, curls beaten into submission, but there’s something in his eyes, a sort of wistfulness that snags your attention like a moth to a flame. 

A bolt of lightning burns a gleaming white strip across the gloomy sky, halting Shinx and Pikachu’s play as they elicit squeaks of awe, but you can’t stop looking at Frankie. He’s grinning now, a wide and ecstatic thing with his head tipped back, rain streaming down his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Seeing one of nature’s tantrums,” he says, voice low and wonderstruck. “My mother always said it takes someone extra special to train those who can summon such raw, uncontrollable power on cue.”

You’ve never thought of yourself as someone unusual or remarkable. Looking at him though, soaked and shivering and absolutely beaming, you think if anyone’s extra special in this world it’s him.

Day 1,987

It’s a long time before you can look through photos of him without a wound violently tearing open in your chest. Longer still before you can hear his voice on the phone. He calls more often these days, mostly because you’re knee-deep in another mystery and only a little because he misses you, and that’s okay. You can smile at his jokes and it feels real. You can love him and know better than to be in love with him.

You stay busy. You photograph every inch of the nature park on Florio, even convince Professor Mirror to let you take the NEO-ONE to some of Lental’s other islands for further research. You spend hours clicking through photos on your computer, frowning at blurry ones, printing some out for the Professor to take a closer look at as well as a few for your own personal collection of albums. 

Your coworker isn’t an intimidating figure by any means, but something about watching him study and scrutinize your pictures never fails to make your hands shake and feet shuffle. Even after all these months, practically living inside each other’s pockets at the Laboratory of Ecology and Natural Sciences (or L.E.N.S. as the Professor affectionately calls it), studying the Illumina phenomenon and all its effects, there’s a part of you still terrified it could all come crashing down.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Professor Mirror tells you, glaring disapprovingly over the frames of his glasses. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that remark and it won’t be the last either. 

“More analyzing the photos and less analyzing me please,” you reply, nodding your head at the small stack in his hands.

He grumbles under his breath, but resumes evaluating the latest shots of your walk along Blushing Beach. There are Wingulls performing loops in the air, an Exeggutor snoozing beneath a palm tree, the splashings of a pair of Corsola playing in the waves. Luxray looking at the contents of a tide pool. A Pikachu eating a fluffruit after you’d scared her by your loud gasp, mistaking her for another of her kind. You don’t mention that tidbit to your coworker though.

That should be the last one, except then Professor Mirror’s letting out a surprised little hum, holding up a photo you never intended anyone else to ever see. Not even the subject. Especially not the subject.

It’s from your sophomore year at Uva Academy. You would call the picture ugly, edges a bit hazy due to your unsteady hands, still learning the tips and tricks of photography, except it’s Frankie. And he’s looking at you behind the lens with a fondness so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, holding a newly evolved Luxio to his chest, with windswept curls your fingers will always long to tame. 

You should’ve thrown it out a long time ago. The man in the photo isn’t the same man who will call you later tonight from half a world away just to ask how your day went and if you’re willing to admit you need his help with the Illumina project. But you’ve always been too sentimental for your own good, holding onto things until there are only scraps left, slipping through the gaps of your fingers. 

At the very least, you shouldn’t have reorganized your albums so close to your work station.

After what feels like the longest stretch of silence of your life, Professor Mirror finally says, carefully neutral as if wary of provoking a negative reaction, “Someone special, I presume?”

“It’s complicated,” is all you offer in response, snatching the picture back and telling yourself the ache behind your ribcage is a side effect of a papercut.

Day 389

Uva Academy teaches you battle strategies, the effects of Berries and how to better understand your Pokémon amongst other vital lessons to prepare students for a career outside the ancient brick walls and dorm rooms. 

It’s Frankie who teaches you how to find beauty in thunderstorms, how to enjoy each day like it’s your last, how to dream a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder—or maybe that’s something you teach each other. 

On the weekends you head into the city center together, trying different eateries and watching fellow students challenge each other on the plaza battle court. Afterwards you’ll walk along the cobblestone streets side by side, sometimes discussing classwork or pointing out items in shop windows, but usually the time is spent in companionable silence. Just sharing the same space.

You buy your first camera acting on pure impulse, drawn to it inexplicably and handing over money to the salesman in a matter of minutes. It fits in the palm of your hand, heavy and solid, buttons and knobs staring back at you, waiting to be pressed and manipulated. For the first ten or so minutes of ownership, you simply hold onto the device, studying its shape, its lens, fingertips running over the bumps and grooves.

“Well?” Frankie prompts, gentle voice breaking the silence, brown eyes flicking between your face and the camera. Pikachu echoes the question with a tiny pika?, sensing the fragility of the moment. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you answer, shoulders curling with self-consciousness. At your feet, Shinx sits on your shoe and rubs his cheek against your leg comfortingly.

“Well,” he hums, a teasing smile growing on his lips as he presses a button. “Maybe start with turning it on first.”

“Shut up.” You swat at him, but there’s no real heat. “I meant, I don’t know what to take a photo of.”

“It doesn’t matter what the sight is,” Frankie tells you, grabbing hold of your hands and raising them up until the camera’s in front of your face. He steps back and you peek at him through the viewfinder, watching as he spreads his arms out wide with Pikachu still happily perched on his shoulder. “What’s important is how it makes you feel.”

You take a breath, taking a moment to hold the shutter button until it focuses, and then take the photo. No count down, no say cheese!—you simply heed his advice, focusing on how it makes you feel.

The preview screen asks if you’d like to keep the picture or delete it. Your thumb hovers over the buttons.

Focused on the way Frankie’s hair has a golden aura in the light, how Pikachu’s nose scrunches when she’s grinning, you nearly jump out of your skin when he’s suddenly at your side again, wondering, “What do I make you feel, shutterbug?”

Like I’m falling and flying at the same time, you think, quick and startling. A bolt of lightning amongst storm clouds.

You press save.

“Like spending a hundred bucks wasn’t a total mistake.”

Day 448

You take a seat in the cafeteria across from Yovanna and her Sylveon. You’re lucky she shares the same lunch hour as you. Even more lucky she likes you enough to also share her space. Her knack for securing a table each day despite the scrambling rush of hungry students is a gift from the gods. Or maybe it’s a perk of being the president of the Academy’s student council.

“You haven’t stopped smiling for days.” She points with her fork at your grin, a giddy, bubbly thing not even Ms. Tyme’s pop quiz last period could stifle. “Spill it. Who’re you crushing on? Is he a student here? You got a picture?”

“Not with me.” It’s a lie, ever since you bought your camera it’s been glued to your person and there’s always at least one picture of him stored within the device’s gallery of Luxio shots and library aesthetic and other things that make you happy. “He is a student here though.”

Yovanna drops her fork onto her plate, jostling the pieces of fruit waiting to be eaten. Sylveon catches a flying strawberry midair by jumping in her seat and landing neatly on four paws like it’s a regular trick to perform. “Shut up. It’s him, isn’t it?”

You feed Luxio a pickle off your sandwich, neither confirming nor denying.

But your grin does get a little bit impossibly wider.

“Aw man, I owe Santi twenty bucks now.”

Your eyes narrow shrewdly. “Did you seriously make a bet?”

“You two are joined at the hip, of course I did.” Yovanna leans back in her chair, arms behind her head, not a single hint of shame for her actions. “Santi said you’d realize you had feelings for him before winter break. I thought it’d take you until the end of the semester ��cause you’ve got the self-awareness of a piece of concrete most days.”

“Rude.” She dodges the crumpled napkin you toss at her with a laugh.

“Hey, this is a good development. Now you just gotta keep the momentum going and tell him how you feel. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tucking back into her meal, she misses the brief slip in your smile.

“Yeah.”

Day 8

Ms. Dendra is the only teacher without a classroom, preferring to use the battlefield in the middle of the courtyard for her lessons rather than a whiteboard. She weaves along the line of students with her Medicham, offering suggestions and correcting forms to make the most out of their Pokémons’ moves. You keep one eye on her drawing steadily closer and one on Shinx pawing at the ground, charging up electricity in his forelegs. He still hasn’t mastered thunder shock yet, maybe Ms. Dendra can–

“Storm’s coming tonight,” a voice drawls behind you, a curious blend of casual and enthusiastic.

You turn around, finding Frankie standing there looking up at the sky. The dark gray clouds do seem indicative of bad weather, now that he’s mentioned it. Rain is definitely on its way. 

And then he asks, a little sudden, “You ever seen one up close?”

A strange question. Still, you think about it, searching your childhood. All you remember are memories of cowering under the blankets in your bed and playing in puddles the next morning when the monstrous rumbling and harsh flashes had long passed. You’ve seen rain up close, felt the drops on your skin, inhaled the scent of petrichor deep into your lungs. But storms? 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering as the temperature seems to drop. “Never.”

He hums, a bland note that could mean anything. At your feet, Shinx and Pikachu sit and stare at each other, little sparks of blue and yellow static crackling in the air between them like morse code. 

“No wonder you’re having trouble with your partner. Can’t teach him about electricity when you’ve never seen it in action.”

“That’s not how training works,” you retort defensively. “Also storms aren’t exactly harmless, in case you forgot. They’re loud and dangerous and—”

“Beautiful,” Frankie cuts in with such firm conviction you reel back in surprise. “Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.” A pause follows, and you hate the smirk that grows on his face, how it taunts you, how it makes his eyes glitter with mischief. “Or maybe not. I could be lying. Only one way to find out for sure.” 

A raindrop lands on your cheek. Then another on your arm. And another on your nose. It’s pouring now. Students are complaining about their lesson being interrupted and Ms. Dendra’s shouting for everyone to head back inside. Through it all your eyes remain locked in an intense staring match, neither one willing to surrender.

“Fine,” you reply with a sharp jerk of your chin. “Show me.”

Day 1,448

Your internship with Professor Oak is—good. It’s the start of a brand new chapter in your life, except the last chapter ended on a terrible note and the upcoming pages are terrifyingly blank if you fail to impress your new boss, so. Yeah.

You get along with the Professor’s other intern, a local boy named Will. He teaches you how to drive the ZERO-ONE around the sanctuary. You spend hours out on the trails, memorizing everything about the wild Pokémon who call the island home. You enjoy the assignments Professor Oak gives you, staying busy, filling up albums with photos and journals with research notes. 

But when it’s quiet, when you’re staring up at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come…you’ve never felt more lonely in your life. Even with Luxray within reach, loyal and constant, there’s a persistent ache you can’t shake. A loose thread dangling in your mind, tormenting you, and you know if you were to tug on it exactly where it would lead.

Everything leads back to him.

Frankie hasn’t tried to call you. Hasn’t had any contact with you since graduation. Not even a postcard from whatever corner of the world he’s trying to accomplish his dreams. 

You haven’t tried to call him either. And yes, it’s true communication is a two-way street, but he’s the one who left and took your heart with him. Why should you give him more of yourself? You hate yourself for even contemplating picking up the phone.

You hate yourself even more for wondering what your relationship would’ve been like if you’d gone with him. If it’d hurt less to just have stayed friends. If you’d been better off never knowing him at all. If, if, if…

Day 485

The problem is, you think your feelings for Frankie are just a little bit stronger than a crush. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him. Or at least halfway there. 

As much as you hate to admit it, Yovanna wasn’t wrong saying you have the self-awareness of a piece of cement. You don’t know for certain if the fluttery Butterfree sensation in your stomach or galloping heartbeat whenever Frankie smiles at you is love. But you are certain he’s gotten under your skin, triggering as many irritations as he is encouraging new ways of growth. You’re a better person, you think, simply by knowing him.

You also think it’s actually kind of scary to imagine something so strong and life-transforming could be anything else but love. Regardless, you hope it stays with you forever. This precious, nameless thing.

It won’t be until many days later—until you know what it’s like to kiss him, and hold his face between your palms, the heat of his breath tingling against your skin; until he’s fluent in myths and legends and fables, swearing he’ll be the one to make them truths and facts and verities; until you can’t picture a future without him in it, not a happy one, at least—you’ll realize you do love him. And he loves you, too, as it turns out.

But nothing lasts forever. Someone’s always got to be the first to let go. 

Day 1,375

You receive an offer for an internship with Professor Oak in Pallet Town to help him complete his Pokémon Report by taking photos on a nearby island sanctuary. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime to work with such an esteemed researcher, but thinking about graduation creeping up, about leaving behind this realm of familiarity now that you’ve learned everything Uva Academy has to teach, it’s—moving forward is harder than you anticipate.

It doesn’t help that Frankie's becoming more and more restless, unable to stand still as if it physically pains him to do so. No matter how many walks around the city, how many storms chased after, he’s always looking out towards the horizon, aura so thick with discontentment it’s as if he’s physically cloaked in it. 

Lately the only moments he seems to settle within his own skin are when he’s talking with Ms. Raifort, discussing ancient prophecies and ruins scattered around the globe. You don’t understand it, his passionate fascination–no, obsession with mythology. Why not let sleeping dogs lie? 

Frankie won’t talk to you about the future, evading the topic like a cunning Nickit. Still you cling to his hand, to hope, to the belief love conquers all, until the morning of graduation he comes to your dorm room and stares over your shoulder rather than meet your gaze. Even Pikachu hides her face in his curls, ears lowered despondently.

You let him in, the beginnings of dread stirring in your stomach, sensing whatever he’s got to say will have irreparable consequences.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” You gesture towards the kitchen, an unspoken can this wait? laced within the question.

“Not feeling very hungry today,” he answers, glancing about the room aimlessly. No, it can’t.

“That’s a first.” You take a seat on the sofa next to Luxray, grounding yourself by stroking a hand along his back. “You gonna tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna make me guess?”

At that, Frankie finally turns to you, and his torn expression fractures something delicate inside of you, coldness flooding your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking. About us.”

“What about us?”

“I love you.” There’s no sweetness to the words. No tenderness. They are words of blood, of pain, scraping against his throat on their way out. “I’ve loved you from day one and I’ll love you ten thousand more. But what I want, what you want—it’s not the same thing. And it’s only going to hurt the longer we keep pretending otherwise.”

“Stop, please don’t—” your voice cracks, the cold gripping your heart now. Please don’t say it. Please don’t do this. “We’re—we’re good together. You know we are.”

“We were,” he amends, voice so unbearably gentle it’s a jagged blade against your soul. “We were so good. But we’re not ready for what comes next. We’ve become thunder and lightning, one ahead of the other. Our timing is off, shutterbug.”

Day 765

It’s drizzling a little when you return to campus. You shiver in your wet dress, grimacing as you accidentally step in a puddle, thoroughly soaking your flats and bare feet. Hopefully you won’t slip on the stairs and break your neck. That’d be the cherry on top of this disappointing evening.

You just want to shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and fall asleep as fast as possible. 

Except when you reach your floor there’s a figure curled up on the floor outside your door, fast asleep with a snoring Pikachu curled on his chest.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You nudge at Frankie’s knee with your wet shoe, raising an eyebrow at him as he jerks awake, blinking rapidly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you’re back,” he says through a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. Pikachu grunts, displeased at the movement and sounds, and stubbornly curls into a tighter ball, forcing him to cradle her in the nook of his arm as he stands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just–I wanted to make sure you got back from your date okay. How did it go?”

Your date, Tom, is in Mr. Hassel’s art class with you. He invited you to see a new photography exhibit at the city’s museum. He was nice, if a little overzealous, and seeing lovely displays of art  seemed like a better way to spend the evening instead of once again hopelessly pining over your best friend. So, you’d said yes, changed into a nice dress, and swore off any and all yearning.

Except that’s exactly what you ended up doing anyways. 

Every time a photo left you breathless, you’d instinctively turn to look for brown eyes that weren’t there. Every joke Tom made you’d compare it to one of Frankie’s. Throughout the entire evening, you couldn’t stop your thoughts drifting back towards the Academy, wondering what he was doing.

You weren’t surprised Tom cut the date short, correctly sensing your heart just wasn’t into it. Still stung a bit though watching him leave you behind to join up with some other classmates hanging out in the plaza.

“Poorly,” you answer with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” Frankie blinks, looking at a loss for additional words. He’s wearing the hoodie he got from his trip to Montenevera over the holiday break and sweatpants, warm and rumpled and cozy, a complete contrast to your entire wardrobe. “Did he–did he hurt you? Because if he did anything inappropriate, I swear–”

“What? No, no, nothing like that happened.” You shake your head, ignoring the flutter of your heartbeat, touched at his protectiveness. He’s still staring at you, and you know he’s not going to let this slide under the rug. “Relax, tough guy. Tom was fine. I was the problem.”

“Tauros shit,” he immediately rejects the notion. “You could never be a problem.”

The hallway feels too hot all of the sudden despite the icy raindrops still clinging to your skin. “That’s sweet,” you say, trying to flash a grin except the muscles in your face refuse to cooperate. It feels stiff. Forced. “You say that to all the girls?”

His mouth tugs upwards into a smile, dimpled and boyish. “Once or twice,” he says, “but I only mean it with you.”

It’s dangerous and stupid to get your hopes up, but there’s something about the quietness, something about his brown eyes and his nearness, that makes you take a leap of faith. Makes you think screw it and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I was the problem,” you tell him softly, watching his expression sober, “because I kept looking for you.”

Silence follows, interrupted by a quiet snore from Pikachu. 

Then, just as softly, Frankie says for a second time, “Oh.”

You swallow, feeling like you can’t breathe. “Yeah.”

“Silly girl, you didn’t need to look.” He squeezes your hand, leans in just enough to bump his nose against yours. “I’ve always been here.”

Day 1,375

Later, you won’t remember the particulars of how the rest of the conversation played out. There are words, so many words. Angry and inconsolable, spat out through clenched teeth and pleaded with numb lips. Tears, too. So many damn tears it’s a wonder you don’t drown yourself.

You will remember how he looks at you though. Brown eyes deep and golden, reflecting the morning light streaming through the window. He’s beautiful, and you think that’s the final straw of it all, the definitive proof that even as he’s ripping out your heart you will never feel anything less for him than love. 

No passage of time or miles of distance will ever change that. You know this like you know the sun will rise tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that. 

Still, this certainty doesn’t stitch up the gaping, bleeding hole in your sternum.

No, that self-healing won’t begin until many, many days later.

Day 610 

In another life, if you hadn’t discovered your love of photography, you think you would have been a great astronomer. You know each of the constellations’ names, the best times during the year to spot them, even the tales assigned to them.

Tonight, the night sky is full of stars in every direction you look, not even the distant city lights strong enough to overpower their shine. You lie on your back in the soft meadow grass, hands resting on your stomach, the scent of wildflowers as thick in the air as the fireflies Luxio and Pikachu chase after. To your left, he mimics your pose, except he’s got an arm pillowed under his head, silent except for his breathing.

“There’s Kingler, cursed to hold up his heavy claw for eternity,” you say eventually, raising a hand to trace the starry outline with your fingertip. “Cubone’s next to him, forever mourning his mother.”

He remains silent. You turn your head to look at him, discovering he is deeply absorbed in his thoughts. Physically, you could easily reach out for his hand, but the blankness in his eyes suggests internally he’s half a world away. Somewhere you can’t follow. An irrational spark of jealousy burns hot in your veins, upset your presence isn’t enough of an anchor to keep him locked in the present moment.

You emit a quiet sigh, mentally rolling your eyes at your own childishness, and start to turn back to the sky when his voice catches you off guard, asking, “You ever notice they’re all tragedies?”

“Huh?”

“The myths behind the constellations.” He looks at you then, eyes dim with an emotion you can’t recognize. “Can you name one with a happy ending?”

You think about Pinsir, exiled due to his uncontrollable rage; Koffing, releasing toxic gases as he dies; Dugtrio, punished by an angry Groudon for gouging too many holes in the earth. The list grows longer, the tales grow sadder.

“No,” you say at last. “I guess not.”

He shrugs a shoulder, like it’s nothing, like his next words aren’t going to hurt something fierce. “That’s because happy endings are the biggest myth of all.”

Day 1,375

He kisses you. It is perfect and excruciating all at once. His hand is cupping your cheek, and his touch is so tender and intimately familiar you can’t stop yourself from indulging and it’s cruel of him to leave you like this. Shattered and wanting. Falling and flying.

But when Frankie’s right, he’s right.

This split in your paths has been a long time coming. You’d just refused to read the writing on the wall, content to keep counting the days, pretending the number would stretch on into infinity.

Infinity is just another word for forever though.

And there’s truth in that old saying: when you love someone—

“I love you,” he says again at the door. His eyes drift over your face, as if memorizing every detail. “And I’m proud of you. Remember that.” There’s the briefest of glimpses of tears in his eyes before he’s wrapping you in a hug, so tight your ribs painfully protest. You savor every second of it. “This isn’t the last of us. We’ll meet again, I swear it. One day, shutterbug.”

—you let them go.

Day 1,669

You’ve been dreading his arrival, dreading how he might look at you. What might be different. What, if anything, might be the same. 

All communication thus far has been directly with Professor Oak. You haven’t heard a single peep even though your number’s stayed the same. Even though you know he knows you’re here. 

Luxray stays close as the hour draws closer, trying to soothe your nervous energy. You stroke his mane, eyes flicking between your computer, the window, and then back again. The cursor blinks on the screen, waiting for you to finish adding the last details to the report you’ve been developing on the Pokémon signs you and Will discovered. Bizarre occurrences where the environment manifests the likeness of specific Pokémon—always the same ones in the same places. But why they existed and what they meant remained unsolved mysteries robbing you of sleep.

It had been the Professor's idea to invite another set of eyes to examine the clues after months of no solid progress. For every one step made forward it felt like the universe would shove you five steps backwards, the hidden connection remaining just out of your reach.

If you had known Professor Oak and Ms. Raifort were old friends, that she would’ve recommended her favorite pupil…well, you’re not sure if anything would’ve really changed. What fate wants, fate gets one way or another.

Frankie arrives at eventide, bringing the warmth of the fading sun into the lab with him. He looks…unchanged. Maybe a little broader, thicker with muscle from his journeys. But still familiar in all the ways that matter. You wonder if the same can be said for yourself. 

He’s looking at you, and it’s—it’s less painful than you expected. No tight band wrapped around your middle, no spontaneous bursting of tears. He’s just a man with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“Hey shutterbug,” he says, and it feels abruptly like slow motion, like you’re watching through someone else’s eyes as he comes closer, closer, closer and pulls you into a tight embrace. His arms are just as strong as you remember them, memories of graduation screaming in the back of your mind and you’re in your dorm room again watching him walk out of your life with your heart in tow.

You want to…

(kiss him, hit him, hold him, scream at him)

You want too many things.

“Hey,” you echo lamely as he pulls back. If Frankie hears the faintest of quivers in your voice, he thankfully doesn’t show a sign of it. You shoot a small grin at Pikachu, mouth stretching wider when she returns it with a cheerful pika pi, waving her paw. “Ready to help solve a mystery?”

“I always wanted to make history.” He’s smirking that same damn smirk, an intense pang of nostalgia striking you. Your fingers twitch, wishing you had your camera. “But I think it’s better this way, yeah?”

“What way?”

Distantly, you’re aware of Professor Oak and Will watching the conversation ping-ponging back and forth, both smart enough to pick up on the unspoken something between you and Frankie. 

“Making history together,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We make a good team, you and I.”

The words bounce around inside your head for a moment. A good team. Is that all we are? is what you want to ask, but the answer’s a double-edged sword shoved between your ribs no matter how he phrases it. 

So you swallow the question down and bury it. 

“C’mon,” you gesture towards your computer, “I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”

Day 128

Winter sweeps in, all frigid winds and frosted windows. Together you stay at the Academy during the holiday break. It’s days of no homework, snowball fights, and parka coats. Nights spent by the fireplace, hot chocolates topped with whipped cream, wishing you could bottle these memories in a jar and keep them on a shelf.

If Frankie knew about it, he would say Jirachi heard your wish, but it’s your opinion that fate’s just got a funny sense of humor. Either way, a few years down the line you’ll have the collection of memories you desired, almost all of them starring him. They won’t be kept in fragile jars, but in captured photographs unaffected by the withering flow of time. Little glimpses of a happy life, and how much you've lost.

Day 2,000 

You kiss Frankie on the front deck of the L.E.N.S. the night before he’s scheduled to leave. It’s stupid and impulsive, but he’s just right there in front of you, bathed in starlight and high off the elation that comes with solving another Pokémon mystery, further securing his place amongst the pages of historic exploration, a legend in his own lifetime, and there’s no thoughts in your head so—you kiss him. 

It isn’t your first kiss, but it feels like something new. He’s got stubble now, you’re wearing a lab coat—little details of proof you’re far from the kids you used to be. He smells the same though, like coffee and evergreens and fresh rain. The quiet, awed exhale of your name, like you’re something wonderful, something mythical come true, is the same too. 

And for the briefest of moments, you can almost imagine you’re together again.

But in the end it’s just a kiss, not a time machine. 

Day 1,762

“For someone with a new career, you don’t look very excited,” Will says, knocking his shoulder against yours good-naturedly. You try to summon up a smile, but it isn’t fooling anyone.

Professor Oak’s treating you both to a fancy dinner at a restaurant you can’t pronounce the name of, celebrating the news of your new job as an official field research photographer working alongside Professor Mirror in Florio. It’s an amazing step forward, resulting from the success of the Rainbow Cloud discovery with Frankie, certain to give your name another added boost of recognition in the photography community. 

“I am,” you say, remembering how you’d nearly passed out when you received the offer. Another attempt at a grin yields better results. “It’s gonna be great.”

Will tilts his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about him. Again.”

“Not intentionally.” Your lips curl into a rueful grimace, fingers twisting together in your lap. “He just…never leaves my thoughts.”

Frankie told you before he left he didn’t have a home, not anymore, too much of a restless spirit to stay in one place. You wonder if his answer would be different, if he knew it’s been 1,762 days and every one of them he’s spent occupying your head.

“Even when he’s gone and left you behind?” From anyone else, the question would’ve been harsh, but your friend’s eyes are kind, full of empathy. 

There’s a second where you contemplate lying, but you can’t. Not to him, and not to yourself.

“Especially then.”

Day 2,000

“Sorry.” It comes out of your mouth stilted—not because you don’t mean it, but because your heart’s beating like a thunderstorm. A wildness you haven’t felt in years.

“I’ve never needed an apology from you.” Frankie looks at you softly, the brown of his eyes getting lost in the dark. “Two thousand. Can you believe it? Seems like just yesterday I watched you walk into class.”

You forget sometimes that he’s the sentimental type too when it comes to those he cares about. It’s why he doesn’t give Pikachu a Thunderstone, and why he only knows how to play one song on a guitar, his mother’s favorite. How sweet it is, to learn he must care about you to keep count, maybe even love you a little bit still.

“Frankie,” you start, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. His nearness is a comfort as much as it is a distraction, but this conversation is long overdue by hundreds of days. “What are we?”

“You tell me.” A hand comes to rest on your waist, a searing brand through the fabric of your clothes. “What do you want us to be?”

You think about the question for a long moment, wondering what words pack enough meaning to give the answer it deserves.

What you want is another storm to chase, another constellation to trace. What you want is for your hands to brush during walks, never having to hear his voice on the end of a phone again because he’s right there by your side. What you want is everything that once was to align in perfect harmony with the immediate now.

“I want us to be together.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not,” you murmur, staring down at the mud stains on his boots. 

“Listen, shutterbug,” his hands move to your head, one tilting up your chin and the other gently palming your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze, “a lot can happen in two thousand days–”

“I know, I know.”

His fingers spasm, like he’s resisting the urge to tug on your hair, eyes sharpening at the interruption. “A lot can happen in two thousand days,” he repeats, and you hear it this time, the heavy weight in his tone. Rarely is he this serious. “We’ve changed, we’ve grown, we’ve been on opposite ends of the earth from each other. But tonight, of all places, I’m here and you’re here.”

And maybe it really is that simple. People say lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, but twice now you’ve watched him go and twice he’s been brought back to you. 

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists, holding him there. “Do you think we’ll ever be what we were?”

“No.” He steps impossibly closer, lips brushing against your forehead. “I think one day we’ll be better.”

Better, you mouth the word. It feels like a promise, like a turning point. 

“Yeah, one day,” you agree, heartbeat steadying, matching the rhythm of his beneath your fingertips. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

[duckapus]

Had ideas for a few post-arc scenes that I don't currently have the energy to write;

-Ash setting Tama up with a provisional trainer license (basically lets her have Pokemon registered to her despite not being ten yet but she can't do Major Official Trainer Activities like gym challenges, contests, Battle Facilities, etc.) because the Pokemon who've been hanging out with her very much want her to be their trainer. Magcargo's kind of the odd one out since he's only been around her for like an hour cumulatively and he kind of got dragged into this without any idea what was happening but he's still interested because she seems nice. There's some concern about Hoopa staying since he has friends in Dahara City in Kalos... until he points out that Hyperspace Hole still exists and he can come and go literally whenever.

Pikachu officially passes on the role of the Pichu Brothers' chaos wrangler to Absol, in a slightly funny moment where he tries to be all serious about it and put his hand on her shoulder all dramatically, ruined by the fact that he's so much shorter than her that he has to balance awkwardly on his tail to even reach her shoulder (and further undercut by the fact that what he actually says is "they're your problem now. good luck". Also, there is of course much gushing over Gardevoir, Guardeon and Dragaurora's evolutions.

-One of the suggestions for Devos's situation is putting Tonio on the throne, which both he and Valiant are adamantly against because favored by the Muses or not a guy who's been a wandering outlaw and proud of it for nearly a decade is not a good choice for ruling a kingdom in turmoil. Plus having a Songbird as a king would just be weird.

-Kelsie gets Vitality set up in the infirmary and assures everyone that she's expected to make a full recovery eventually, though from what she can tell of how the whole healing flame thing is working it'll take anywhere from one month to three for her to wake up. Then when she's alone she calls Director K to let him know that her reports will be less frequent for the foreseeable future since with Vitality out of commission she's the only medic right now.

-Mr. L presents the completed Meme Suppression Bullets to Jayin, warning her that it will take a few weeks for the virus they're made out of to complete its work. She's not too fussed about that, they'd expected and planned for something like that after all, and sends for her firewalls and their assistants, leading directly into That One Post.

[gamequeenanya]

Security Breach: The Collab Fic! - Violet’s Version (Part 1)

Summary: A girl named Pocket has a birthday today. The animatronics in the Pizzaplex help her celebrate, along with a slew of other friends! But what happens when the Moon gets tickled? Chaos, naturally!

(Note: Since Pocket cancelled this fic, I offered to write it instead, and she gave me permission! This fanfic is the one with YOUR OCs in it! All OCs belong to their respective owners. Enjoy!)

…

It was a busy day in the Pizzaplex. There were so many customers that they had to close the pizza stand early because they ran out of dough. But it was also a special day in the Pizzaplex because it was the One Year Grand Opening!

There was one girl working in the Pizzaplex as a writer for many stories that would be told about the animatronics here. Her name was Pocket. She had brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and was about average height. She was really cute, and she loved her job as a writer. However it was difficult finding her passion again. You see, she had trouble saying "no" to people and the story requests kept piling up. So she felt trapped trying to write things to please other people instead of focusing on the things that made her happy.

One day she passed by the Daycare in front of the slide, and she met someone. It was her friend, Glamrock Freddy.

"Hello Pocket!" He said enthusiastically. Then he noticed the look on her face. "Oh. What's wrong, Superstar?"

She sighed. "Hey Freddy. It's all this work I have to do..."

Freddy offered a hug. "There there; it's okay. We'll find a way to help you, Superstar."

She nodded, hugging Freddy. "Thank you..."

Some loud laughter was heard from the daycare. Curiously, Freddy went over to check it out. Pocket followed him. When they were at the fun slide, she went first. Sliding down the slide and feeling a rush of excitement as she went fast. It was like being a kid again.

Glamrock Freddy called out to see if she was alright. She called back.

“I’m fine!”

Swimming through the pit, she found the source of the noise. It was the Daycare Attendant Sun laughing as many people tickled him. Among them were Nova: a purple haired cat girl, Insanity: a pale ginger, Rando: a punk goth with half his head shaved, Rain: someone with blue eyes and long hair, Travis: someone with vitiligo and an all-black outfit, Aenz: someone with pink hair and pink/white clothes, Ash: someone with black hair, brown eyes, and brown skin, Bee: someone with dark hair and skin, who wore a yellow shirt and black and yellow Pikachu ears, Mizuki: a girl with purple hair, green eyes, and a purple outfit.

And while some people tickled him, others preferred to watch. Some of them giggling while doing so. The people watching were Smileheart: a redhead with pink skin, A: a guy with black ripped skinny jean overalls, and Joker: a tall man with brown hair, black eyes, and a caramel skin tone.

“OHOHOHOHOOOOHOOO GOOHOOHOOOHOOODNESS!!” He shrieked. There must have been about ten people there, poking his sides, back, belly, and upper torso. “STAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHP! PLEHEEHEHEHHEEHEHEEHEASE!”

Pocket giggled. Just another day at the Pizzaplex. “Hey guys!” She called out, waving to them.

“Oh, hey Pocket!” They all said, waving back.

Seeing as they were busy waving to their friend, Sun took this opportunity to get them back, skittering his fingers along their sides.

They shrieked loudly, all running in circles to try and either get away or form a counter strike. Some of them got far enough to escape Sun’s amazing tickles. Most weren’t so lucky.

“A tickly Sun is on the loose!” Mizuki cried, and ran to the light switch. She turned the lights off. “Bye bye!”

Everyone gasped, a sinking feeling going through them at realizing what happened.

“Ahhhhhhhhh! Noooooooooo!” Sun shrieked. “What have you done?!” He fell to the ground and struggled, weakened by the dark.

“Sun…?” Mizuki said. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly, Sun sprang to his feet. But he wasn’t Sun anymore.

“Ohooooohooooooo!” Moon said. “Big mistake…!”

He wiggled his fingers and chased the screaming crowd. Scooping Ash, Smileheart, and Travis into his arms, he tickled their bellies. They scream-laughed, pushing at his fingers, trying to get loose.

Mizuki puffed out her chest. “Not so fast, Mr. Moon! I know your weakness!”

She sneaked around behind him and tickled behind his knees.

“EEEYAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAAA!”

He screamed and let go of the captives, hands going to protect his sides.

“Hey, he’s ticklish too!” A cried, and he proceeded to poke and prod Moon’s hypersensitive torso.

“AHHAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAAHAHAAA!”

“Wow, you’re worse than Sun!” Joker teased. That made Moon squeal even harder.

…

Meanwhile, Scott’s hair was drying in the Salon. Glamrock Chica was there now, feeling a little lonely. Being a former security guard at Freddy’s, he was at least 60 now, though his beauty shone through even at this age. He had thick grey hair, was average height, and was slightly underweight.

He used to be the Phone Guy. Now he was an undercover investigator.

He never took his eyes off Chica, feeling uneasy. It wasn’t fair of course, since she’d never done anything to him, but she understood the trauma he must have been through. She moved slowly as she undid his hair curlers.

It was Scott who started the conversation.

“Hey Chica, how’s it going?”

She perked up at him speaking to her. “Oh, I’m fine! Never been better!” She spoke too quickly and grinned a little too wide. Maybe she would have convinced an ordinary person, but Scott could tell when someone was lying.

“Oh. Uh, listen. If there’s something on your mind, I’ll be here to uh, listen.” He said slowly, wanting to be kind.

She finished with his hair and sat in the chair next to him, ready to clear her mind of woes.

…

Roxanne Wolf stomped around the track.

Chica’s words echoed in her head. She’d told Roxy she spent too much time in front of the mirror these days, and they hardly spent time together.

Obviously Chica was being silly! After all, she needed that time in front of the mirror. How else would she convince herself she was beautiful…?!

She tried not to think of something else in their life that would have affected her behaviour. Instead she kept stomping around the track. She didn’t look where she was going and almost ran into someone.

“Hey, careful!!”

The person stopped and looked up at her. It was Shannon, one of Pocket’s best friends.

“Wait, you’re Roxy!” She said. “I love you!”

Roxy was about to send the person away but stopped and grinned.

“Of course you do. I’m the best!” She flipped her green hair to show off. “So, are you interested in learning to race?”

Shannon nodded.

There were a couple of other fans watching as well named Sofia and Nicole. They decided to stay and watch Roxy too.

…

Meanwhile Glamrock Freddy was dealing with something of his own. Pocket was following the crowd’s example and had started to poke Freddy’s upper torso where his ribs would be. And to make things worse, more friends of Pocket’s had shown up! Fluff and Ray were tickling Freddy’s hips and legs.

“Hahahahahaahhahahahaha! Superstar~!” He giggled. And then Nova came up and tickled along his hips. “Hey, wahahahahahaaait!” Freddy cried. “That’s not fair!”

Then Moon, who’d managed to escape the naughty people’s fingers, ran over and scooped up Pocket, Bee, and Rain. He ran through the Pizzaplex, laughing like a gremlin.

“I’ve got the birthday girl! Ahahaahahahaaaahaaa! Your party will be ruined!”

Freddy and the crowd gasped.

“Not so fast! We’ll save her!”

And they chased after Moon, who was giggling as he tickled the current captives. He mostly went for the sides, belly, and neck.

“HAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” They squealed.

Moon ran all the way to the Raceway.

Seeing him and the laughing captives, Roxy got an idea. As she finished her safety lesson in the parked car she was showing them, she wiggled her paw pads.

“And when you’re driving, never ever let yourself get distracted.”

Giving Sofia and Nicole some playful pokes, she relished in their squeals. Shannon just preferred to watch, and smiled.

…

Meanwhile, Chica told Scott her woes. She talked about how concerned she was with how distant Roxy was. How she was spending too much time in the mirror and was neglecting their friendship. Scott felt for her and offered some comfort.

She accepted the hug, pulling him in close, and felt him stiffen.

“Oh. Heh!” He tried to make himself calm, assuring himself that Chica was in Safe Mode. It was nice and quiet for a while. He patted her back.

“Yeah, uhh… Is there an animatronic therapist around here?” He wondered. “Cause uh, to me it sounds like Roxy is suffering. Maybe she needs to talk about whatever is troubling her?”

“Maybe…” Chica said, looking away. “I guess I didn’t notice it, I thought she was being selfish. But not too long ago, one of our band mates was in a tragic accident…”

Scott chuckled despite everything. “Yeah. That’ll do it.”

…

There was a small bot in the Pizzaplex as well. All he wanted was to give people maps – as well as scaring people with his little jumpscare. He did the same thing when an unsatisfied customer wanted a refund.

Seeing some people rush by, he offered his map. But Moon was the one carrying them and he ran right past, bumping into Map Bot and making him spin around in circles.

A visitor named Juno noticed poor Map Bot and came over to steady him.

“Hey… Are you okay?”

Map Bot beeped with a nod. He seemed confused by the affection.

Juno checked him over for any damage to his casing, feeling around the area his ribs would be. The bot started to giggle.

Chuckling, Juno continued, checking the belly and spine area. Map Bot laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist. Finally Juno got to his hips. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Please stop!” He said robotically. The visitor obliged, now seeing what was going on. There was a smile on their face.

“Don’t worry, you only have a few scratches on your casing. Your mechanic should have no problem!”

Map Bot sighed in relief.

“Thank you. Moon does not usually barrel past like that.” Reaching into his bag, he then offered a gift. “Now please, take a map! Free map.”

(End of Part 1!)

[gilbirda]

Prompt idea/framework for a possible sequel to safehouse. Let's say for a minute that in the several months that Danielle and Jason start living together they both get documentation so that Danielle can go to school, because it turned out that she enjoys learning just as much as Jason did, and needs to actually exist on paper as well as have at least one documented parental figure in order to enroll. Also let's say that after things normalize, as much as they can with the batfam, Jason just so happens to start dating Jazz Fenton who is studying psychology at Gotham University. He tries to keep it a secret from the fam, and Danielle only knows that he is meeting with a psychologist. And now imagine the chaos when they all finally meet up.

This would be such a funny moment.

Imagine Dani catching them on a date and goes pikachu face 😂😂

Alas, in Safehouse universe, Danny and Jazz are minors! 😅 So any romance would have to be aged up AU.

I think I said somewhere that they can't get away from their parents and that Jazz has plans of taking Danny with her when she turns 18.

IDK, wrote it almost a year ago?

(i need to write the damn sequels 👀)

A nice twist would be Jason finding the Fentons on his own, maybe they are on the run, and Dani is freaking out because she can't contact her siblings - but they never make the connection that the homeless kids Red Hood has under his protection are the same siblings Dani is asking him to find

👀

[chaos0pikachu]

Me outlining the next chapter of this Boston Does New York fic:

[z-mizcellaneous-z]

*sockslides in* HELLO HELLO

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? (THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING QUESTION OH WOW IT MADE *ME* THINK A LOT)

HIYAAAAAA

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

“We won’t comment on it just like how we don’t comment on how you’re able to pull out kitchen utensils literally out of fucking nowhere,” Kaminari chimes in. Mina gasps. “Take that back you son of a bitch—” “See?!” Kaminari yells, hands up in surrender at the sight of the fork that is now frighteningly close to his face. “Kirishima, help me, please!” Kirishima raises his hands up in surrender. “Hey man. Ashido is doing manly queen shit, and I’m the last person that’ll stop her.” Mina smiles, bright and wide and fond as she presses a kiss to his cheek. “And that’s why I’m dating you,” she remarks. “You are the epitome of respecting women.” With that, she turns her focus back across the table to Kaminari. “At least some people know how to appreciate a woman doing girlboss shit. ” “You’re literally about to stab Pikachu’s Adam's apple out,” Kat enunciates; hesitant yet incredulous. Bakugo slams his hands on the table, exasperated. “God forbid women do anything!” Kacchan slaps his face, hand dragging down. “Who said shit about the issue being fucking women?!” “Why would you fuck a woman, Bakugo?” Todoroki asks. “I thought you were gay.”

It's fucking hilarious to me lol. I think it encapsulates the chaos of Class 1A pretty well LMAO

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

*gestures at you wildly* NEED I SAY ANYTHING MORE

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? (THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING QUESTION OH WOW IT MADE *ME* THINK A LOT)

i think its called "For My Wife" by @red-sneakers??? basically kacchan starts being like "gotta do this for my future wife" and then deku finds old videos of them where kacchan would call deku his wife

EDIT: i just realized i didnt answer the last question LMAOOO MY BADD

[phoenixcatch7]

Yes yes yes!

Svsss is, maybe ironically, one of the healthiest fandoms I've ever been in (and I've been in MANY). It's huge, it's creative, there's no ship wars or antis (we know better 🤭), there's genuine enthusiasm that doesn't turn against critical readings of the plot. There's sincerity, there's cringe is dead, everyone respects the canon themes (mostly lmao).

And the amount of ships and the acceptance of them! I've never seen any other fandom treat asexuality and aromanticism with such respect. Even when the other side of the spectrum is the wildest, most disrespectful smut. And it's a rare fandom indeed where you'll see 'I tried to write smut but then the characters started having feelings so I changed the rating'. Even breaking out the crack ship polys doesn't get people in the comments angrily protesting characterisation. It's not just any fandom I enjoy rare pairs for! Personally I like moshangbingqiu, qiliu, lingmingying, and of course xiaozhu.

And the sheer variety of fics and comics! Some fandoms can get stuck and start spinning their wheels, but svsss fandom keeps coming out with the coolest stuff! There's so many ways to change around the characters to make it fresh! Sy is such a good wildcard it's insane. Sqh is optional content and great to play off. Lbh is perfect for basically any role from impoverished barista to emperor of the world, and if you want something more malicious there's lbg. For meta or cosmic or eldritch horror or video game aesthetic or general deus ex machina chaos you've got the system, the half finished cq makes for top tier world building. The many wives and their plots are perfect for basically anything you want to happen, the modern world is ripe for interdimensional shenanigans (or just modern aus). Crossovers abound!

I once read a fic where bingqiu fought a pikachu. It wasn't a crossover. Sqq went 'ugh airplane stop ripping off popular franchises!' and off they went quite happily XD! 'ugh airplane' is a common justification and the fandom makes very good use of it lmao. But it's seriously so easy to incorporate elements of just about anything you could possibly want! Xenomorphs. Stardew valley. Furry bait. A gun.

The potential for unhinged crack and devastating angst is something special.

And don't get me started on the art!! It's all gorgeous!! The scenery, the artifacts, the swords, the robes, the character designs, just the QUALITY in general is so high. Comics, everything from visual gags to sob stories!

Like, even mdzs or tgcf doesn't have the chill level we have. For fandoms they're pretty good but it's just not at the same level as svsss.

Literally the svsss fandom is a top tier sandbox filled with top tier fans, and I think that's in no small part because of how unhinged the canon can be lmao.

This has probably been said before but the svsss fandom is just so fun.

First, the fics! Oh look another shen yuan disciple au? Oh but binghe is his shixiong? Read and kudosed! Oh another shen yuan disciple au? But shen jiu is his shidi??? Devoured! Oh another shen yuan peak lord au? With shen jiu AND binghe as his disciples? Oof guess I gotta clear my calendar. Demonic shen yuan? I better see some monster fucking! Shen jiu gets reborn again? Well- and on and on and on and on.

And the ships of course! Yeah I ship bingqiu! But also bingliushen, liushen, bingliu, bingjiu, qijiu, jiuyuan, zhushen, qijiushen, tianjiu, moshang, cumplane, mingling, and of course, bing(mei)bing(ge)qiu!

Usually in other fandoms there are only one or two pairings I feel the urge to gnaw on. In svsss though, it literally depends on the fucking day.

[brokenhardies]

some future luna moments that are going to be a joy to write

-her first regeneration experience is time of the doctor, which means we get - and i actually have to verbalise it - loud confused screaming over "how the fuck does the doctor know what colour his internal organs are"

-she gets told about waters of mars before it happens - probably by eleven, twelve or fifteen, bc thirteen's not going to open up to anybody - but, because she loves chaos, her way of saying "don't do this" is more like

-the doctor: *grows a god complex due to luna's incredibly terrible attempt at telling him to stop* luna: *surprised pikachu face*

-luna's intro to the twin dilemma is her walking in right as six strangles peri. "hey guys im back--oh." its less funny than it sounds trust me

-"LUNA! PLEASE! SAVE ME! HE'S GONNA THINK YOU'RE AN ALIEN SPY!" "...uh... i'm not an alien spy?"

-another fun post regen story is luna, seething, watching five rip up fours scarf and having to just stand there

-my favourite genre of luna is her walking in as soon as plot happens - so like for the runaway bride she walks in as soon as donna enters the picture, or for voyage of the damned, she walks in and sees the titanic crashed into the tardis

-and because titanic came out 2 years after she died she does not get the countless references that are being made

-brigadier: why is it when something happens its always you three? jo, three and luna: *look guilty*

-tbh when luna finds out missy is the master she immediately has to be held back from biting her ears off because when you've had to deal with this fucker for so long you start to get sick of the doctor forgiving them because "we're childhood friends 🥺 he doesnt know any better"

-luna and clara have a bit of a rivalry bc they both have similar backstories - i.e. being intertwined with the doctor across his lives. tbh whenever they meet up its just;

-multi doctor stories sometimes also become multi-luna stories, like day of the doctor, twice upon a time etc. for the two doctors, both lunas literally have no idea where two & jamie are from

-luna, finding out the timeless child stuff: see! i always knew you were special and that the master was just jealous of you thirteen, going through multiple different traumas at once: 0_0

-luna still bitch slaps tecteun, hard. "sorry doctor, im slapping your mum, she's a bitch"

-i wanna write a story where luna meets a post regen nine bc one tears and two luna completely not getting when nine says "i need to be alone". "well... let's be alone together." "that isnt how this works"

-luna finds out there's two doctors existing at the same time when fifteen shows her his psychic paper and she sees fourteen's thoughts. and she just looks at him like "what did you do"

-luna sometimes gets piggybacked by the doctors - four being the big one who does it to her, although nine sometimes does it and luna finds that strange

[spit-out-the-dust]

Chapter one

I am not entirely sure how to start a book. Should I open it with “the day I was sexually assaulted by my brother” or should I start with what’s worse than being sexually abused by your dad as a kid, oh hey maybe it’s when your brother does it too almost eighteen years later.

Or maybe I should start from the first traumatic memory I ever experienced or remember experiencing, looking through the neighbors glass door, the kid who always ran funny with his arms behind his back and wanted to play Pokémon — as the red and blue lights parked by my mailbox across the street for what seemed like hours as you said I choose you pikachu.

Im not entirely sure yet where to start but I think I know what my message is. Abuse and trauma I believe are in every family. I’ve not fully met anyone without any trauma or family chaos. I guess the man I finally ended up giving my heart to at the age of 33 can count as what it might look like to grow up healthy but he’s a rarity and I’m not writing about his life.

Abuse and trauma may define you but it doesn’t have to destroy you. I guess that’s my point. Sounds like a pretty good point don’t you think? Everything lies within a choice and walking through each chapter that’s what I want for people. To see that you can choose for yourself and your kids and your future family, how you want to live your life even if you’ve completely been through hell. Or maybe you can just read this book and be thankful your life and your family isn’t as fucked up. I mean it’s completely your call on what road you wanna drive down

Or you can be like my sister who will always turn to drugs and alcohol to numb out the pain or pretend she has her life together on the outside and social media while she’s slowly contemplating dying on the inside.

Or you can be a monster like my brother, and turn around and afflict damage that was done to you on others. I guess I shouldn’t be angry with him considering everything we went through, but here we are— chapter one.

[piggkeys]

My silly headcanons for my Pokémon Masters EXperience

Headcanon #1: Lillie is the ruler of Pasio in this singularity and nobody can stop her due to winning the PML along with Sniperchu (not even Ash and Red somehow). Their days include giving all the Pikachu hugs and chats. (also there's 5-6 Lillies running around Pasio) Headcanon #1.5: due to this, Pasio is in a state of chaos. Nobody can figure out what to do, and everyone is running around like rats in a lab (pun intended). Coordinating a team up in game equates to Lillie telling everyone who to work with like a boss assigning groups, and it somehow works out as long as the team is still there (don't ask). All of main story happens because multiple versions of every trainer (yes, even the ones that don't officially have alternate Sync Pairs) play the story out because cloning incidents that all the scientists are working on.

Headcanon #1.7: Oh yea everyone's personality is an exaggerated/flanderized version of their canon selves with a few exceptions (tho I'm not sure who)

Headcanon #1.9: New Sync Pairs join the roster via Sniperchu prank calling

Headcanon #2: Lear lost his position as Prince of Pasio due to Lillie overthrowing him. He is salty about it but at least he can still host events and stuff because Lillie has no idea how to make an event in Pasio.

Headcanon #3: Lusamine got thrown in the mix due to Sniperchu wasting one of his scout point prank calls on her. She is traumatized by the sheer amount of times she has been beaten by Pikachu in the past (yes, even during childhood). She tries to be better with her kids but the sheer amount of Lillies in Pasio overwhelms her and her Sygna Suit self. (they can only handle 2 at a time)

Headcanon #4: Ash and Pikachu are actually TV characters taken out of their world of Anipoke and thrown into Pasio. Their anime is watched in universe in Pasio and everyone knows him as "That guy from the Pokémon Anime." None of the characters with Anime counterparts remember Ash besides what is shown on TV. (i.e. Misty and Brock don't really recognize him as one of their best friends but instead as "the anime protagonist that features us as his companions")

Headcanon #5: Gladion makes most of the outfits in the game on his own will. Don't ask me how.

Headcanon #6: Burgh, Viola, Valerie, Mina, Piers, Roxie, and a bunch of other Artistic Sync Pairs own a few companies that compete with each other for being the most artistic.

Headcanon #7: Anyone who can set weather determines the weather of Pasio for the day. Chaos ensues and weather wildly changes every hour.

I think I'm done for writing headcanons for today so please ask any questions about my other headcanons or something among those lines cause these things have been in my head either recently or a very long time so.

[astaldis]

Thank you for tagging me @disdaidal! A great but difficult question. There are so many fics that I really had fun writing, hard to decide which of them was most fun. Probably one of the more cracky fics, but there are several. The craziest pairing which made me giggle a lot while writing is probably the Emhyr/Pikachu one and it was tons of fun, but I'm not too attached to this ship and it wasn't my idea.

Maybe what I really had a lot of fun with this year was Kindergarten Cahir which comes along with this cute and funny Chibi by @befuddled-calico-whump (with some additions/changes by me). I think it's a pretty fun mix of humour&whump/sickfic. But there are quite a few others that were really fun to write (and hopefully to read), too, like A Lesson in Zoogogy where Regis explains some interesting things about penises to Jaskier, or Jaskier's Jolly Yule Jumble with a lot of Hansa chaos and a Christmas present for everybody. And all my Cahir x Gallatin fics, of course, and many more. If it were not so much fun, I guess I wouldn't write them 😂.

I'm tagging @morriganwarrior, @littlestsnicket, @valandhirwriter, @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, @kuwdora, @andordean, @bylightofdawn, @bittersweetbark, @my-jokes-are-my-armour, @major-trouble, @ahh-fxck, @limerental, @itsnotzka and whoever else would like to take part.

New ask game for writers:

Very low-pressure rules: Tell me which fic of yours was the MOST FUN TO WRITE (if you want to). Like, which one did you have a BLAST writing? Feel free to share, to rec, to tell us WHY they were fun, etc etc

For me, I have a couple to choose from, but both Smooth sailing and Over the edge both comes to mind, because they were lovely writing experiences. Things I really wanted to write, and writing flowed relatively easy because they were fun to create!

Tagging YOU, if you want to do it (yes, you!). Since I'm starting a thing here. But also, let's see, @magniloquent-raven @shieldofiron @callieb @platypanthewriter @missroserose @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet @weird-an @dragonflylady77 @robthegoodfellow @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet

@brawlite @lazybakerart @billyharringson @disdaidal and my brain has stopped working I'm sorry, but this is for Everyone who wants to do it!