#i remember back when it was still front-facing pokémon��� it felt like it took FOREVER to get through a generation. but here we are

[front-facing-pokemon]

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - the language of roses

x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: your entire life rafe had been giving you roses in different colours, but you never knew what he really wanted to say

WORD COUNT: 3956

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is NOT my first language, soft!rafe cameron, oblivious!reader

rafe cameron was the kind of kid who never sat still. always running, climbing, jumping off something too high just to prove he could. but there was one thing he always slowed down for: you.

you didn’t know why, back then. it wasn’t like you’d done anything special. you were just the girl who lived two houses down, the one who tagged along on all his adventures because you were good at keeping up. you’d follow him through the woods behind the cameron house, across the sandy dunes near the water, and even onto the roof of the clubhouse his dad had built in their backyard.

but every so often, he’d stop, like he’d remembered something important, and he’d disappear for a minute or two.

the first time it happened, you were seven. you’d been playing hide-and-seek in the cameron yard, and you’d been crouched behind the garden shed for what felt like forever, waiting for him to find you. when he finally did, he was grinning, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead. in his hand was a single yellow rose.

“what’s that for?” you’d asked, wrinkling your nose.

“it’s for you,” he said, holding it out like it was no big deal.

“why?”

he’d shrugged. “just ‘cause. you’re my best friend.”

that became his thing.

when you scraped your knee climbing a tree, rafe handed you a yellow rose from his mom’s garden and said, “it’ll make you feel better.”

when you had to spend a week at your grandparents’ house and came back sulking about missing the beach, there he was with another yellow rose.

“what does it mean?” you’d asked one day, sitting cross-legged on his bed as he sorted through his pokémon cards.

“what?” he asked, not looking up.

“the roses. why do you always give me yellow ones?”

he paused, his hands stilling. “it’s just… you know. the prettiest one i could find.”

“oh.”

he’d gone back to his cards, but you’d stared at the flower on the bedside table, something about it making your chest feel funny.

by the time you were ten, the roses felt like part of your routine. if you had a bad day at school, rafe would show up with one tucked behind his ear, waiting for you at your front door.

“here,” he’d say, handing it over with a grin. “it’s magic. makes everything better.”

“that’s not how magic works,” you’d reply, but you always accepted it anyway.

it wasn’t just the big moments, either. sometimes he gave you roses just because. like when you’d meet him at the playground on a sunny afternoon, or when he’d knock on your window late at night to tell you about a new fort he wanted to build in the woods.

“another one?” you’d tease, twirling the stem between your fingers.

“yep.”

“what’s it for this time?”

“i dunno. just wanted to give it to you.”

you never questioned it. rafe was rafe. the roses were just part of the deal.

but one day, when you were twelve, something changed.

he’d been quiet all afternoon, which wasn’t like him. usually, rafe was the loudest person in the room, always cracking jokes or talking a mile a minute. but that day, as you sat side by side on the dock near his house, he barely said a word.

“what’s up with you?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow.

“nothing,” he muttered, staring at the water.

“you’re lying.”

he looked at you then, his blue eyes serious in a way that made your stomach flip. after a long moment, he reached into his bag and pulled out another yellow rose.

“here,” he said quietly.

you took it, studying his face. “rafe, what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he said again, but this time, he gave you a small smile. “i just wanted you to have it. that’s all.”

you didn’t push him. instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, the rose resting in your lap.

“thanks,” you whispered.

“anytime,” he replied.

by the time you were twelve, the yellow roses were a part of you. a part of him. they showed up in places they didn’t belong—pressed between notebook pages, tucked into old shoeboxes, even wilting in jars on your windowsill. you didn’t really know why you kept them, but you couldn’t throw them away. they were yours.

but then, something changed, again.

it happened on a random summer afternoon. the sun was blazing, and you were sprawled out in the cameron backyard, sipping lemonade while rafe fixed the broken tire swing.

“you’re gonna break your neck,” you called out, watching him balance precariously on the wooden frame.

he rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. rafe never did listen to you when it came to stuff like this.

when he finally hopped down, covered in dirt and grass, he didn’t head straight for the lemonade like you expected. instead, he disappeared into the house without a word.

“what are you doing?” you shouted after him, but he didn’t answer.

a few minutes later, he came back, holding something behind his back.

“close your eyes,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

“why?”

“just do it!”

you sighed but obeyed, covering your face with your hands. “this better not be another bug.”

“it’s not,” he promised, laughing. “okay, open.”

when you did, he was standing there with a single white rose.

“what’s this for?” you asked, staring at the delicate petals.

he shrugged, looking almost shy. “just thought you’d like it.”

“but… why white?”

“i dunno,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just smiled and took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for half a second. you didn’t notice the way his cheeks turned pink, or the way he stared at you a little too long before turning back to the swing.

that was the first white rose.

after that, the yellow roses didn’t come often anymore. instead, you’d find white ones—on your doorstep, in your locker, or handed over with a casual, “here, this is for you.”

you never asked why.

by the time you were fourteen, white roses were the new normal. rafe had grown taller, his voice deeper, his confidence sharper. but when he gave you roses, he was still the same boy you’d known forever.

“for me?” you asked one day, twirling the stem of yet another white rose.

“who else?” he replied, grinning.

then came your sixteenth birthday. you didn’t expect anything big—just a day at the beach with rafe, like always. but when he showed up at your door, he wasn’t empty-handed.

“what’s this?” you asked, staring at the bouquet of pink roses in his hands.

he shrugged, but his usual confidence was missing. “birthday gift,” he said, thrusting them toward you.

you took them, your heart racing. “they’re… really pretty.”

“yeah, well. so are you.”

the words hung in the air, heavier than they should’ve been. you stared at him, your cheeks burning, and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say.

by the time you were seventeen, things had changed. it wasn’t just the way you and rafe had grown up—it was the way he’d changed.

you could see it the moment he introduced her—lily, the new girl with the perfect hair and the perfect laugh and the perfect smile. she was everything you weren’t, and you hated how easily rafe seemed to fall for her.

but that wasn’t the worst part.

the worst part was that the roses stopped.

it was a sudden thing. at first, there were other flowers—a bouquet of daisies here, a random tulip there—but never roses. not the yellow ones you’d grown used to, not the white ones or the pink ones that had become a quiet declaration between the two of you. just... no flowers.

at first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it didn’t. rafe had a girlfriend now.

he didn’t owe you roses anymore.

but you missed them. you missed the thoughtfulness, the friendship, the feeling that, no matter what, you still had a place in his life.

and then the your biggest fear came true—he stopped being your friend altogether.

lily didn’t like how close you and rafe had been. she didn’t want him hanging out with his girl best friend anymore. so rafe, being rafe, did what he always did when he felt cornered: he let go.

you didn’t get it at first. he’d stopped answering your texts, stopped showing up at the usual spots. at school, he’d walk by you without even looking up. you’d sit at lunch, watching him and lily from the other side of the cafeteria, and it made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

there were no more texts to plan beach trips or late-night talks. no more spontaneous hangouts. nothing.

you tried reaching out once, twice, even three times, but it was always the same—short answers, distant replies, the kind that made it clear he didn’t want to try anymore.

it was too painful. so you stopped trying.

instead, you focused on other things—other people.

it wasn’t like you didn’t have friends, but the friends you had before had always been people who had fallen into your life by default. you had never needed to work for them. they were always there, easy to hold on to. but now, as you walked down the hallway of your high school with a new group of girls—girls who wanted to be your friends, who made an effort to include you, to laugh with you, to spend time with you—you realized something important.

you were learning to let go too.

the girls were different. they were fun and supportive in ways you hadn’t realized you were missing. no one ever told you to back off from their boyfriends. no one ever gave you that uncomfortable look when you were laughing too loudly with one of the guys in the group.

it was easier, in a way. no complications. no unspoken feelings. just fun, carefree friendships.

but you couldn’t help but feel that gnawing ache in your chest whenever you saw rafe and lily together. it was like a quiet reminder that everything between you and him was over.

and then, one day, you saw it.

lily posted a story on instagram—a picture of a vase of flowers. they were bright and pretty, but there was something painfully obvious about them. they weren’t roses.

never roses.

they were daisies. lilies. tulips.

anything but roses.

you looked over at your new group of friends—laughing at something ridiculous, pulling you into their conversation—and for the first time in a long while, you realized something important: you were okay.

no, you weren’t fine. you missed rafe. you missed your best friend. but you weren’t going to stay in the past.

there was a part of you that hoped rafe would realize what he’d lost, that maybe, one day, he’d come back and apologize. but for now, you had other things to focus on.

and maybe that was enough for now.

but still, you didn’t expect to see rafe cameron waiting for you after school.

the day had been uneventful—just the usual classes, the usual laughs with your friends, the usual reminder in the back of your mind that rafe wasn’t part of your world anymore.

but there he was. leaning against the wall near the parking lot, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his hair a mess like he’d been running his fingers through it all day.

your first instinct was to ignore him. he hadn’t spoken to you in months. months. he’d chosen lily, chosen her rules, chosen to let go of everything you’d shared.

but something about the way he looked—lost, broken, sad—stopped you.

you stepped closer, hesitant. “rafe?”

his head snapped up, his blue eyes locking onto yours. for a second, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“hey,” he said finally, his voice hoarse.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharper than you meant it to be.

he flinched, but he didn’t back down. “i... i needed to see you.”

“why?”

“because—” he broke off, running a hand through his hair. “because i screwed up. and because i didn’t know where else to go.”

you crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. “what about lily?”

he laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “she’s gone. we broke up.”

“oh.”

you didn’t know what else to say. part of you wanted to walk away, to tell him it wasn’t your problem anymore. but the other part—the bigger part, the one that still cared—couldn’t do it.

“come on,” you said, jerking your head toward your car.

he blinked, surprised. “really?”

“yeah,” you muttered. “let’s go.”

the drive back to your house was quiet, the air between you heavy with things unsaid. when you got home, you led him to your room, just like you always used to.

he sat on the edge of your bed, looking around like he couldn’t believe he was there again. “you changed it,” he said, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on the other side. “it’s been a while.”

he nodded, staring down at his hands. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for everything. for shutting you out. for choosing her. for being an idiot.”

you didn’t say anything, letting the silence stretch between you.

“i missed you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and you saw it—the boy you’d grown up with, the one who used to make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one who always brought you roses.

“i missed you too,” you admitted.

his head snapped up, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling faintly. “but you’re still an idiot.”

he laughed, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

you talked for hours, just like you used to. about everything and nothing, about the way life had shifted and the things you’d both been through. it was easy, familiar, like slipping back into an old rhythm.

when he finally stood to leave, you followed him to the door, your heart heavier than you wanted to admit.

“thanks for... for letting me in,” he said, his hand lingering on the doorknob.

“you’re always welcome,” you said softly.

he nodded, gave you one last look, and then he was gone.

when you turned back toward your room, something caught your eye—a splash of color on your bed.

frowning, you walked closer, and your breath caught in your throat.

a single purple rose rested on your pillow.

you picked it up, your fingers trembling as you held it to your chest.

you sank onto the bed, staring at the flower, your mind spinning.

he hadn’t said it, but he didn’t need to. the rose said everything he couldn’t.

and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you and rafe weren’t finished after all.

by the time you were eighteen, you and rafe had found your way back to each other.

it hadn’t been easy, not at first. there were awkward silences, half-finished sentences, and moments where you both stumbled over how to act around each other. but slowly, the cracks healed. the space between you shrank. and before you knew it, you were best friends again, just like you’d been before everything fell apart.

except now, things were different in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. it wasn't different as in your roses changed from yellow to white, it was just... different.

rafe spent more time with you and your friends than he did with his own. he’d show up at your place unannounced, invite himself to girls’ nights, and make himself at home in your little world. your friends loved him—who wouldn’t? he was funny, charming, and could win over just about anyone with a crooked smile and a well-timed joke.

and then there were the roses.

at first, it had felt like slipping back into an old routine. rafe had always given you flowers—yellow for friendship, white for something deeper, pink for gratitude and love. so when he started showing up with four roses every time he saw you, you didn’t think much of it.

a pink rose, soft and sweet. a white rose, pure and delicate. a yellow rose, bright and cheerful. and a dark pink rose, richer, deeper, full of meaning you didn’t quite understand.

“what’s this for?” you’d ask every time, your voice teasing.

“do i need a reason?” he’d reply, smirking as he handed them over.

you’d roll your eyes, tuck them into a vase, and move on.

it wasn’t until one friday night, when rafe wasn’t there, that your friends brought it up.

you were sprawled out on your living room floor with your two best friends, abby and jen, eating popcorn and flipping through magazines. the absence of rafe’s usual presence was noticeable, but you didn’t mention it.

“so,” abby said, sitting up and tossing a kernel into her mouth. “are you and rafe, like... a thing?”

you blinked, startled. “what?”

jen raised an eyebrow. “you and rafe. are you dating?”

you laughed, the sound a little too loud. “no. what? no way. we’re just friends.”

“just friends?” abby repeated, her tone skeptical.

“yes,” you said firmly. “we’ve been best friends since we were kids. that’s all it is.”

jen exchanged a look with abby, then turned back to you. “okay, but... the roses?”

“what about them?”

“he gives you flowers every time he sees you!” abby said, throwing her hands up.

“so? he’s always done that.”

“always?” jen asked, her eyes wide.

“yeah,” you said with a shrug. “since we were six.”

both girls gaped at you like you’d just confessed to a crime.

“you’re telling me,” abby said slowly, “that rafe cameron has been giving you flowers for twelve years, and you’ve never thought it was weird?”

“it’s not weird,” you said defensively. “it’s just... a thing we do. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it definitely means something,” jen said, crossing her arms. “guys don’t give roses to their best friends for over a decade unless they’re in love with them.”

“he’s not in love with me,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“babe,” abby said, leaning forward. “dark pink roses? those mean, like, admiration and gratitude, but also... y’know. romance.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words stuck in your throat.

“and white roses? purity. pink? love. yellow? friendship. he’s literally giving you every part of him in flower form,” jen added.

you stared at them, your mind racing.

“he’s... he’s just being rafe,” you said weakly.

“exactly,” abby said. “and rafe is in love with you.”

their words echoed in your head long after the conversation ended, and when you went to bed that night, your eyes drifted to the vase on your desk.

four roses. pink, white, yellow, dark pink.

you’d never questioned them before. but now, for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was more to them than you’d ever let yourself believe.

your nineteenth birthday was minutes away, and you were already in bed.

well, technically you were sitting on your bed, legs crossed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for the clock to hit midnight. your hair was twisted into perfect curls, your nose strip was firmly in place, and your face was freshly moisturized—your skincare routine impeccable as always.

you weren’t expecting anything. your friends had already promised to make a big deal out of it tomorrow, and you figured the actual moment of your birthday would pass quietly, just you and your phone and a sleepy smile.

but then you heard the faint scrape of your window.

at first, you froze. was someone trying to break in?

“relax,” came a familiar voice, low and teasing. “it’s just me.”

“rafe?”

you slid off your bed, rushing to the window to find him perched on the ledge, one hand gripping the frame, the other holding something behind his back.

“what are you doing?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down. “it’s midnight!”

“exactly,” he said, flashing that boyish grin that always got him out of trouble. “happy birthday.”

you blinked, completely thrown off. “you climbed up here for that?”

he shrugged, effortlessly pulling himself through the window and into your room. “you’re worth it.”

“you’re insane.”

“and you’ve got... something on your nose,” he said, his gaze locking onto the strip.

your cheeks flushed. you’d completely forgotten about your skincare situation.

“oh my god, i look ridiculous,” you muttered, turning away from him.

“no, you look... like you,” he said, his voice softer now.

you glanced back at him, narrowing your eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i like you better like this,” he said simply. “no makeup, no filters, just... you.”

before you could respond, he brought his hand forward, revealing the bouquet he’d been holding.

“here,” he said, holding it out to you.

you stared at it, your heart doing a strange little flip. the roses were beautiful—soft pastel purple, deep dark purple, a single vivid red, and of course, the familiar yellow.

“rafe,” you whispered, taking them from him. “you didn’t have to—”

“yeah, i did,” he cut you off. “you deserve them.”

“rafe...” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he shrugged like it was no big deal, but the way he looked at you told you otherwise. “happy birthday,” he said again, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

you stared at him, your heart thudding in your chest. the weight of the flowers in your hands, the warmth in his gaze, the fact that he’d climbed through your window just to be the first to see you on your birthday—it was all too much and somehow just enough.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as you clutched the bouquet.

“you’re everything to me, you know that?” he said, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

your heart stopped for a moment, then started again, faster, louder.

“rafe...”

he shook his head, his hands moving to gently frame your face. “you don’t have to say anything. just... can I—?”

he didn’t finish the sentence, but you understood.

“yes,” you breathed, barely able to get the word out.

he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didn’t. when his lips brushed yours, it was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

but then you kissed him back, and something inside both of you broke free.

the roses slipped from your hands onto the bed, forgotten as you melted into him, your arms winding around his neck, his fingers tangling gently in your curls.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside your room completely forgotten.

“happy birthday,” he whispered again, his smile so full of affection it made your chest ache.

“best one yet,” you replied, your own smile matching his.

and as he stayed by your side, your head resting on his shoulder, the roses scattered around you, you couldn’t imagine a better way to start a new year of your life.

and for years, you kept them all—pressed between the pages of your favorite books, tucked into jars on your windowsill, little pieces of rafe that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

because to him, you were.

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 7

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: descriptions of anxiety + guilt, piv sex WC: 7.8k AN: hello my darlings!! i am back!!! (from the dead aka first semester of my PhD) i've missed you all so much. this chapter took sooooo long to write because i wanted to get everything just right, but we have now entered phase 2 of the fic, where new shenanigans begin. stay tuned!

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, [Ch. 7], Ch. 8

Chapter 7: Burning

"Need to talk to you," Anakin blurted out loudly over the music, obviously catching you by surprise based on your empty, blinking face. The guy who was upsettingly close to you shot him a look equal parts murder and possessiveness, and Anakin's lip curled in disgust. His face looked eminently punchable, and Anakin could just imagine the satisfaction of his fist in the guy's cheekbone, or the way he would buckle after one good hit to the stomach.

Somewhere, a rational part of him reminded him that this was not caveman times, and that you had agency and were allowed to make your own choices, but Anakin silenced it. Feeling angry was easier than admitting that it felt like his organs were being torn out when he saw you flirting with anyone else. Thinking about kicking the shit out of some random guy was easier than admitting that knowing you had put this outfit on for someone else, someone other than him, was killing him.

"I--" You began, half-yelling over the noise, then your face twisted into something Anakin couldn't read. Annoyance? Hatred? Pity? "Fine. Let's talk," you finished. The man, who looked like if all the finance bros in the university were merged together into one terrible Pokémon Evolution, scoffed his annoyance, but you ignored him.

Anakin didn't even try to suppress his smugness.

You pushed past the guy, then past Anakin, all the way to the staircase tucked in the corner of the room. He was enchanted, brainless when he followed you. The air got warmer, stickier, and the number of couples making out along the walls increased dramatically. Anakin remembered when that would have been the two of you. That night at TKD. How he wished he could turn back time to that night and just live it in a loop.

Just like then, you were divine in front of him. Your legs climbing the stairs, the gentle sway of your hips that he had fantasized about. He couldn't help it. He'd be noticing these things forever.

You slipped into a bedroom, and it smelled a bit disgusting, but he couldn't care less because he was with you. Anakin closed the door with a decisive thump, then turned to look at you.

You had that look on your face, that one he hadn't puzzled out yet. Your perfect eyebrows were scrunched together, and he could see you swallow hard. He couldn't care less if you hated him. If you pitied him, wanted him gone. At least some small part of you would have still cared. He had prepared a whole speech--telling you how sorry he was. How much he wanted you. That he hadn't felt this way about anyone before, and that he wanted to make you fall for him the same way he'd fallen for you. That he wanted more than whatever the two of you had been. That he wanted to be your boyfriend. Long-term, preferably.

Anakin was ready to get on his knees if he had to.

He opened his mouth to start, but you interrupted him.

"No, I have something to say." The words came out shaky, and dread clawed in his stomach. Were you going to say you wanted him to leave your life? That you had moved on with the finance bro downstairs, who had a trust fund and probably said slurs? That you were excited to never see him again in four months, when you graduated?

Then, you sighed and said something he never would have expected.

"I'm sorry, Anakin."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It set in later than it should have. Much later.

All throughout finals, you were desperately trying to stop thinking about him. That horrible feeling in your stomach when his face popped into your mind. Which it did, all the time. It was a sticky, terrible pit that opened up whenever something reminded you of him. The lingering smell of him on your pillow. His hatred of orange Skittles. You'd been angry before, but this was different, worse, somehow.

But you pushed it down. Exams mattered more right now. So much more.

Sometimes, the wave of nausea hit you a little too hard, like when you thought about how badly you needed a hug, and how you didn't really want a hug from anyone but him. When it got too hard, you'd leap out of your desk and march to the corner store, just to buy a Red Bull and maybe some chips. Something crunchy, something to puncture the silence of your suddenly suffocatingly empty room.

On the walk through the biting air, you would let yourself think of him. You'd let that pain in your heart blossom, and you'd just pretend you'd said something, anything else. That either of you had made different decisions. That you'd be walking back to your room and he'd be sitting on the bed, giving you that crooked smile, ready to quiz you on fluid dynamics. It was the cold that made your eyes water, you swore.

And then you'd arrive home, and you had to get back to work. Anakin Skywalker was not an allowable topic of thought at any other times. You pulled yourself through finals like a zombie, not letting yourself think beyond the next meal or next exam.

That was not the brightest idea, it turned out, shockingly. When you left your last final, you were blank, empty. You went home and collapsed on your bed, and you finally let yourself imagine his arm wrapped around you as you drifted off.

When your alarm went off at nine PM to remind you to get to the airport, the pit was back. As you stuffed things in your suitcase, then rushed out the door, you felt like there was bile clawing up your throat.

It was a disgusting feeling. You'd been mad in your life, but this was different. It made you want to jump out of your skin just to be free of it.

Around a third of the way through the red-eye plane ride back home, everything was dark and quiet, with only the whir of the engines disturbing the cabin. You slipped out from your aisle seat, just to stretch your legs and use the bathroom, and then you passed him. Or, at least, you thought it was him. But it wasn't. The stranger sitting in 16C had Anakin's nose and curls, but his eyes were all wrong, and his hair was just a smidge too light. He didn't have those little dimples on the side of his mouth.

But just the same nose and the same curls were enough to light that painful burn in your heart. How many times had you looked at those features, traced them, even before all of this started? Why, why did your heart leap for a second, hoping that he'd followed you, like in some 90s romcom, to declare his undying, hopeless love?

That pit in your stomach you thought was bad before was swallowing you whole now. Your skin felt hot, clammy. You willed yourself to move one leg, then the other, heavy like bags of sand, just to get somewhere private before you imploded.

By the time you slid the lock closed on the bathroom door, you were bawling. Big, heaving sobs ripped from your chest, and you couldn't place the emotion. Anger, sadness, guilt--it was all mixing into a knot that kicked the breath out of you.

What had you done? What had you fucking done?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Things got a little better at the airport, when you got to hug your family. On the drive home, they occupied you with anecdotes about the neighbors--the house across the street had apparently put up a garish snowman--and questions about your semester. And it was nice to recount some high points. A couple of times, you were tempted to tell a story that involved Anakin, but you held your tongue.

When you got home, and it was around time for bed, you tossed and turned, but all you could think about was him. That feeling in your gut was unbearable, and you were debating whether you should just go retch over a toilet to get it out of your system. You only managed to fall asleep by putting on Criminal Minds, and even then it took you two episodes.

The next night, the same thing happened.

And the next. And the next.

The next time you were in bed, you made yourself confront it. Just for a second. That feeling that came up whenever you thought of him.

For years, he was just some guy who got everything he wanted. You knew the department was stacked against you from the start--being in classes where only four people weren't men was symptomatic of the department culture. But when Anakin interacted with the professors like that, got all the internships, you wondered if you could do the same thing. If it had been you networking with the professors, would you have gotten the same reaction? And you didn't know.

Anakin was frustrating. So, so frustrating for years. Because everything just came so easily to him. It was like he waltzed in every day to your freshman lab course and made breadboard circuits that were even neater than the professor's. And when he did so well on every exam, he didn't make a secret of it. He gloated about how his projects were used as examples. Initially, that rivalry was one-sided. You'd do anything to beat him. Later on, when you'd worked on more than a couple projects together, you could see it in his eyes. He knew you were a threat, good competition.

And when he was clearly closer with the professors and got accepted to an internship you didn't get, it was whatever. It annoyed you to no end and you complained about it to your friends, but it wasn't terrible. Those were minor things. Your theses were major. This was what you'd present to employers, to the world. This was what you were going to do for the rest of your lives. And he'd gotten it from somewhere.

If even this was stacked against you, why did any of it matter?

You were still furious. You felt like you wanted to punch something or scream into your pillow at how unfair the world was, how you just wanted something to be easy for once.

But the worst part of it all was that you knew that, in his place, you would do the same exact thing. Or, at least think about it a lot. You'd feel like shit about it, granted, but you might do it. That feeling of trying and failing for months to get the perfect idea that was equally attractive to employers and the thesis committee, to get something that even worked, was probably the most frustrating cycle you'd ever experienced. If someone gave you a ticket out, what would you have done?

You probably would have taken it, if things were bad enough.

And that meant Anakin wasn't a bad person. Just a desperate one.

You knew he wasn't a bad person, though. You'd seen him smile at you with such openness, such sweetness. You'd seen him coach freshmen, including your own roommate, to become good athletes. You'd seen him get you food when you were too out of it to do it on your own. You'd felt him put his jacket around you when you fell asleep in the library.

But there was always that fear that, just maybe, your first impression had been right. That he was an asshole. That, one day, the mask would fall off, and you'd realize he was just pretending. That your relationship didn't matter to him as much as it did to you. That if you told him that you wanted more than sex, he'd laugh.

And, when you heard from Barriss of all people, that maybe he was exactly what you had thought he was, a liar, it felt like he was stabbing you in the back and twisting the knife.

Looking back at it, it still felt terrible, but you couldn't move the image of Anakin helping you, keeping you company in the library. He wasn't scheming against you when he took the idea, he was just scared and desperate.

It was the department that had pitted you against each other from the start--curves, calling out the best homework solution, TAships, and thesis competitions. None of it was made by him. He was just like you, trying his best.

You also hadn't heard all the details. The idea for the hand had been his, just the idea to scale it down had been someone else's. Just like you'd asked professors to help you choose between ideas early on in the process.

The more you thought about it, the more it felt like your heart was being carved out with a blunt spoon.

You impulsively opened your phone. The texts he had sent you.

please come back we can talk this out please give me another chance

How could you not trust him? How could you have watched him cry and just left? What kind of a person were you?

Fuck, what had you done?

You were gasping for air, the tears rolling down your face and onto your pillow. You had ruined something perfectly good. Just because you were blaming him for everything that had gone wrong.

It was too much. It was all too much. The stress climbed up your throat and choked you, and you writhed in the sheets to try to escape the feeling. To just go back to a time when things mattered less, when you were purely happy and never worrying about GPAs or rankings.

Fingers shaking, you opened Ahsoka's contact and smashed the tauntingly green 'Call' button.

She wouldn't answer you anyway, you reasoned. It was the middle of the night, after all.

The ringing was painfully loud in the empty room. The tone sounded one, two, three, four times, and you were about to give up when Ahsoka's tired voice mumbled your name.

"'Soka--I--Can I talk to you?" You managed to spit out the question despite the thick cottony feeling in your throat.

"Hey, woah, what's the matter? Are you okay?" The grogginess left her voice as she fretted on the other end of the line, and her protectiveness made you feel the tiniest bit better.

As you spilled your guts to her, she made comforting noises at the appropriate places, and grossed out noises when you described that you'd had sex with Anakin. Soon, your breathing stabilized, and she said exactly what you'd been thinking, too: you needed to apologize, stat. Preferably, in person.

You fell asleep on the line with her.

In the morning, everything felt better. Manageable. You just needed to collect yourself before you returned home, and then sit him down and talk to him--actually talk.

For the remainder of the break, you immersed yourself in the everyday. Your holiday traditions were familiar, calming. The constant clamor of your family to get this and that from the store kept you busy. You'd wake up late, eat some lunch, get some coding done, scroll Instagram, eat dinner, then pass out in front of the TV. And just like that, another day slipped by. And another. And another. And another. And then it was Christmas, and all you could think was that Anakin was opening presents right now, somewhere far away. You opened your texts again, trying to draft a message that seemed right--Hey or Merry Christmas both seemed slightly weird. But maybe hearing from you would mess up his day, or maybe he'd realized what you had, that you were in the wrong, and now wasn't interested in talking to you. As you were debating, the roiling guilt in your stomach grew, and, when your father laughed particularly loudly, you were relieved to turn off your phone and pay more attention to the breakfast table.

In the back of your mind, there was a subtle thrum of guilt that never really went away. It only got worse as the break came closer to ending, and you realized you hadn't really gotten anything done on your thesis in weeks. You set a countdown on your phone homescreen, just to keep you on your toes. All it did was make you feel worse.

On New Year's Eve, when you were watching the ball drop with your parents, your phone chimed.

It was Anakin. The world stopped, and your mouth went dry. happy new year. What could you even say to that?

Happy New Year. I miss you.

Happy New Year. I'm sorry for everything.

Happy New Year. Wish you were here

Happy New Year! How are you?

All of them felt wrong. But then one of your parents said your name, trying to get your attention, and you locked your phone.

That night, while having your nightly stew on your feelings, you resolved to talk to him in person after lecture. Otherwise, you were worried you'd never bring it up.

On the first day of classes, you were resolved to catch him before or after lecture. Any time would work, really. You'd have two chances that Monday, and then two more on Wednesday if you chickened out. The fact that you acknowledged you might chicken out was a bad sign, but you ignored it.

You got there ten minutes early, an act that was generally considered psychopathic in college, and you were ready to zone out while the professor said some things about the goals of the course for just long enough for class time to end before speaking to Anakin.

Would he say something to you? Would he try to sit next to you? Would he even notice you?

You kept your eyes firmly trained on the board, and tried not to look too desperate as you snuck glances. Then, finally, he arrived, and you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. You made a point not to think too hard about how he was more handsome than you remembered and not to wonder if he wore that shirt just for you. That wasn't your place. You needed to apologize, not ogle him. You expected him to sit down somewhere in the middle of the seats, somewhere distinctly Anakin, but he crossed the room entirely. He even sat one row in front of you. Did he not even want you in his periphery? Your heart sunk. Maybe he had a change of heart after you didn't respond to his New Year's Eve text. Maybe he was just done with you. Maybe maybe maybe, your mind chanted.

The second that the professor was done, you rushed out.

The same thing happened again in your afternoon class, and you walked home regretting every life choice that brought you to this moment.

The next day, when you got home from your class, you entered your living room to find Anakin on the couch. Immediately, that nausea that had been plaguing you punched you in the throat.

There he was. Looking so unbothered, so casual, like him being in your room didn't make him think back to the last time you had been here, entwined on the bed. Like it didn't make him think of how you'd ruined it. All you could hear was static.

The worst part was that you couldn't stop ogling him, even though you felt terrible about it. He must have been working out over the break, because his arms looked incredible in that shirt, and his jawline was etched even more strongly than usual. The haircut he'd gotten over break left his hair falling just over his forehead in those perfect waves. It caught in the light as usual, and when he turned to look at you all you could see was blue blue blue.

And then you realized he was looking at you--at you--and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see him swallow, hard, as he looked at you. Was it a glare? Was he angry? Was he about to storm out? Who knew?

But this was your opportunity. Class didn't work out--this was it. You had to talk to him now.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe "Hey guys, can I talk to Anakin for a second?" or "Hey, can we talk?" or "I think I like you a lot," or literally anything, but nothing came out. The static in your ears got louder until it was deafening. Your stomach roiled and, for a second, you were worried you'd throw up instead of saying anything.

"Hey," you croaked out. The awkward silence sat between you three, and you didn't see his expression change. Fuck. He didn't even say "hey" back.

You had to get out of there. Had to. Right now. You bolted into your room and closed the door behind you, then dove into your bed and screamed into your pillow.

Motherfucker.

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Your next attempt to apologize came at practice the next day. You hoped to catch him at the end of it, maybe pull him away and talk in some empty stairwell. You crept up to the room, but, the closer you got, the more that tidal wave of terrible feelings threatened to wash you away. Through the door to Aerobics Room 1, your eyes found him in the crowd immediately. They were practicing some kind of form (pumsae? the exact name escaped you), and Fives made some sort of comment to Anakin which sent him cackling.

He looked light, and with the afternoon sun casting its rays into the room, he almost became angelic. When he laughed, and his eyes crinkled in that way that made you soft, you lost all your nerve. He was never like this when you were in class together, or that time he was in your apartment. Whenever he saw you, he got that look on his face.

But now, he was all smiles and laughs as he playfully smacked Fives, who repeated whatever he'd said and sent a bunch more athletes into fits of laughter.

Dappled in the sunlight, his face split with an enormous smile, Anakin was so perfect in that moment. How could you ruin it by making him have a hard conversation?

At the same time, you felt the anger at yourself build up. You said all those awful things to him, and you had the nerve to delay your apology?

But you knew that, if he heard your apology and didn't forgive you, that would ruin the day for him. He was just like that. And you didn't have the heart to do that to him.

Tomorrow, you promised yourself, as you took one last look tracing the contours of his jaw and lips.

As you turned to go, you didn't notice that he'd turned to see something moving in the windowed doors to the Aerobics Room.

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Ahsoka was fucking tired. There were approximately two people she cared for most on the campus, and they were both huge dummies. They'd proven that over and over. She knew something was amiss from the day the two of you fought/broke up/ended things/whatever, when you started sulking in your room alone and consuming an upsetting amount of caffeine. She started gently probing right when the worst of finals was over. She didn't want to rush anything, but a well-placed "hey going to go get some food, want anything?" might soften either of the two of you enough to let her know what happened.

She found out when you told her on a phone call. And, yes, it wasn't great. It was, perhaps, morally dubious and a little misguided, from what she could tell, but it wasn't clear to her why this was such an issue. Wasn't taking advice from others and collaborating the whole point of academic research and theses?

But she also knew you had gotten feedback from multiple professors after you'd submitted your initial proposal, trying to pick between several approaches, before one of the faculty nudged you in the direction of 3-D printing instead of plastic molding. And, sure, Anakin was a little more than nudged, but he came up with the idea for the mechanical hand in the first place. This was just a different application, right? And yes, it wasn't super duper ethical that the idea was just given to him, but what would you do in his shoes?

Ahsoka told you exactly that, and you sounded like you were choking on the other end of the phone. You told her about how horrible you felt, and that you felt like you didn't know if he even wanted to ever see you again, and she groaned. Of course he did. He was the biggest simp she knew.

So Ahsoka did what she did best: she meddled.

It started small, with mentioning the taekwondo team in front of you once the semester had started. Sometimes an anecdote would include Anakin, and she made sure to casually drop his name, just to gauge your reaction. You didn't even flinch when she said it, which seemed like a good sign. But the pulse in the hollow of your neck jumped. When you confessed that you'd failed to talk to him in class, because it just felt too awkward in public, Ahsoka nodded sagely, like she wasn't already scheming to give you a private time to chat.

Within five minutes, she had texted Anakin to invite him over to plan the competitions they would be attending that semester. Like she hadn't already discussed it with him in December, but whatever. A meeting between the captain and the vice captain wasn't out of the ordinary. And it just so happened that her room was free. Crazy, right?

She really couldn't have made it turn out this well if she tried. When you entered, and Anakin looked like he might fall off the couch, Ahsoka had to suppress a smile. You looked like you wanted to say something, like maybe you'd built up the courage, and she was about to say that, actually, she had forgotten an incredibly important errand she had to run at a cafe for 30 to 45 minutes, but then you just said "hey" and walked into your room. Ahsoka grumbled internally. What was so hard about just apologizing?

Two days into classes, Ahsoka had not-so-subtly hinted to Cody that he should host a party, just in case her other meddling didn't work. It was her backup plan, and, apparently, she needed it. So, after giving you a pep talk that this would be the perfect time to talk to Anakin because you weren't in class or a meeting, and after digging out some dress in the back of your closet for you to throw on, the two of you were off.

Once you arrived at the party, she watched you do a sweep of the room instantly. She knew what you were looking for, and rolled her eyes. He probably hadn't arrived yet, but she texted him anyway, just to check.

In the two seconds she was looking down at her phone, she watched you talk to some sophomore from the business school. He looked douchey, but he was cute enough and said something that made you laugh. Come on, Anakin, she thought, praying he'd arrive soon before she had to watch this guy flirt with you any longer.

Again, she realized she was great at meddling when Anakin showed up and beelined to Cody. She pushed her way through some people, and came to greet him, drag him to get a drink, but he'd already taken a beer from Cody, then insisted that they go dance.

At every opportunity, Ahsoka tried to hint that maybe they should go over there? Toward the other side of the room? Get some more drinks, maybe?

It took ten minutes, but Anakin finally agreed. He didn't see it, but Ahsoka was smiling like a maniac when she saw him take you in. When he started marching over, she was practically cheering. It was show time.

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As you walked to some quiet(er) room, your heart was pounding. This was more nerve-wracking than the first time you slept together, than anything you had done together before. When he just appeared in front of you, looking so intense, it took you a minute to get yourself together enough to form words. Was he mad at you? And now the moment of truth had come.

You pushed into a room which belonged to someone who had more weed than deodorant, and was covered wall-to-wall in dingy band posters. You didn't want to even look down to see how stained the carpet was.

But none of that mattered. Because right now, he was here. And you finally had the opportunity to say what you needed to say.

Before you started, you drank him in one last time, just in case. His deep eyes, the peek of collarbone through his shirt, his broad chest. A quick mental catalogue.

And then you started speaking.

"I'm sorry, Anakin." You weren't sure what gave you the courage. Maybe it was because he approached you first, so you couldn't hide behind the excuse that he didn't want to see you anymore. Maybe it was the slightly awkward conversation with that dude downstairs who seemed to have way too many takes on types of beer. Either way, you'd finally done it. You'd said it. Just apologizing to him made you feel lighter, but that was drowned out by the anxiety of hearing his response.

You were trying to read his expression, the draw of his eyebrows, the purse of his lips. This was the weirdest angry face you'd ever seen.

"Wait--huh?" Both of you were probably wearing the same expression--sheer confusion. Wasn't he supposed to be mad at you? What? You watched his eyes trying to read what you meant, and his plush lips were the tiniest bit open.

You continued anyway. It had to be said, even if he was just going to tell you to stay away from him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, you didn't deserve it. Not everything was your fault, and I've been feeling so guilty over the whole break that I just--I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I chickened out every time. I wish I hadn't… ended things. Between us. I'm--I'm so sorry." Your voice came out more confident than you felt, comfortable in the words you had been rehearsing for weeks in your mind.

Once again, the room went quiet. Anakin stood, as still as a statue, clearly trying to process. Behind the pounding of your ears, you could hear the bass line downstairs and the chatter of people, and you tried to remind yourself that if this goes badly, you'll just go back home, time would pass, and you'd be able to heal your broken heart in peace.

Then, suddenly, Anakin pulled you into a crushing hug. You couldn't breathe from the weight of his head on your shoulder, and the tight squeeze of his arms around your waist. The sandalwood of his shampoo was comforting, familiar. He smelled like home as he buried his face into your neck.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry too--I wish I could take it back, that I just never entered this goddamn competition, then you never would've been mad at me and--" His voice came out broken and shaky.

"Anakin, hey," you interrupted. Had he spent the whole break feeling like this? He should be mad at you, not just upset with himself. You could talk to him about that later, but right now you could feel his desperation to just be near you again, mainly because you felt the same way. You wrapped your arms around him until your hand found his hair. Burying your fingers in it felt so good, so natural. How could you ever have ended this?

"It's okay," you said as you rubbed his back. You could feel his breaths were ragged, and he squeezed you even tighter. "I shouldn't have been that mad at you in the first place--I just got so upset that you had some sort of upper hand, and I went crazy," you continued.

"Fuck," Anakin muttered against your skin. The shift of his lips over your collarbone reminded you of the last time he'd kissed up and down your neck. You took a deep breath. Now was not the time to get horny.

Anakin pulled away, but kept his arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart clenched when you saw the mix of anguish and relief dancing across his features. His eyes were swimming, and a tear rolled down his cheek, then another, then another, until he was crying.

"Fuck," he mumbled again as he pulled one hand away from you to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, almost as if he was embarrassed. Despite it all, you found him immeasurably cute.

"Uh, I was gonna come up here and beg you for another chance--I just couldn't watch you move on or talk to that guy downstairs, it hurts too much," he confessed. His eyes met yours and you felt that familiar jolt of joy that he brought, this time over the idea that he was jealous, possessive even, over you.

"I'm not moving on." It was a risk to say it, but you did it anyway. It was definitely true, but it came out more careful, more tentative than you wanted. Because there was a chance he didn't mean it that way, and you'd just shown your hand.

Fortunately, he had a terrible poker face. Even streaked with tears, a little bit sweaty, and standing in a room that stank like weed, Anakin's smile burst onto his face and shone like the sun.

You'd forgotten how many butterflies that smile gave you. Tentatively, you moved your hand from his shoulder to his jaw. His eyes slid closed and he leaned into your touch, like you might disappear if he didn't keep you there.

Then, someone hollered in the hallway, something about a round of shots, and Anakin's eyes snapped open.

"Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk more?" You asked. "We can walk back home or--" Anakin cut you off.

"Um, if you don't hate me right now, and I don't--I could never--hate you, can I just--" His hungry eyes flicked down to your lips, and you knew immediately that the answer was yes. Yes. A hundred times yes.

You didn't think too many brain cells were firing, so you just nodded. His smile widened, if that was even possible, and he pulled you into him just like he had so many times before.

As he got closer, your heart started pounding, and your palms got sweaty, like this was a first date. And, in a way, it kind of was. It was your first time kissing as more than just enemies who fucked every once in a while, but as something else, something more.

When his lips met yours, he was so heartbreakingly tender, you melted under his touch. Anakin was so warm when he held you this close, and you were half expecting him to start deepening the kiss when he pulled away so that your foreheads were touching.

"I fucking missed you so much," he whispered reverently, then immediately kissed you again, deeper this time.

His kiss was all-consuming, like a whirlpool sucking you in, until you'd forgotten everything except how he felt against you. Your kisses grew deeper, until you felt his tongue gently brush your lips, and you immediately opened them.

Everything felt new, gentle, and you relished it. One of his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing gently, and you felt yourself get wet. You'd been pent up for weeks, and the simultaneous relief of being with him again and the way he had all but told you that he had feelings for you were making you dizzy with want for him.

Your hands grasped anything they could, his shoulders, his hair, his arms, as much of him as you could reach. Did he even know what he did to you?

He broke the kiss, just for a second, and you were about to protest when he pulled the two of you back until he was sitting on the twin bed shoved into the corner of the room. You stood between his legs, his hands trailing down the backs of your thighs.

You swung one knee over his hips, lowering yourself until you were straddling him. Anakin watched you, his eyes dark and mischievous, and let out a small "fuck" when you were finally in his lap. He was a sucker for this position, you knew. This was exactly how you'd gotten together, at that stupid night of truth and dare. The memory filled your heart with warmth.

As you settled onto his legs, you felt a familiar hardness under you, and the butterflies returned. You loved doing this to him, making him care about nothing other than the moment you were sharing. You not-so-subtly shifted your hips as you kissed him again, and you were rewarded with a low moan.

His hands kept teasing you, running up and down the sides of your thighs as he captured your lower lip between his teeth gently. You groaned loudly into his mouth, and he used that moment to slide a hand up your inner thigh, until he had passed the hem of your dress.

Using all the willpower you had left, you pulled away. You were both panting, and he was a vision when you looked at him again, his pupils blown wide and his lips red and wet from your kiss.

"Anakin, are you sure this is okay?" You desperately wanted him to say yes, because it felt like you might implode if you didn't have him inside you tonight, but if he was this emotional, you had to say something. Give him an out.

Instead, Anakin looked at you like a man starved. His pupils were wide, and, even through the tears, he looked ravenously hungry for you. Like you made his world spin.

"Yes--God, I've thought of you every day, all the time. I don't want to wait any more than I have to, unless you don't want to, or if you think you'd regret it--" He was rambling. It was adorable.

"I've never regretted you," you said, cutting him off. "But are you sure you're sure?" You stared into his eyes, looking for any trace of worry, or hesitation. All you found was desire, and something softer. Affection, love, maybe.

He rolled his hips, pressing his hard cock against you.

"Can't you feel how much I want you?" Usually, a line like that would make you roll your eyes, but with the mischief in his eyes and the feeling of him hard underneath you, it only served to make you wetter.

You immediately grabbed his shirt to pull his lips to yours again, rocking your hips over and over until he matched your rhythm. The hand on your inner thigh crept upward, until it reached your clothed pussy.

You'd forgotten how well he knew your body, like he'd been made to touch you. His fingers found the perfect angle to stroke your clit, and you became a mess, your kisses sloppy.

After he'd teased you for a long enough time to make you a wreck on top of him, Anakin pulled your underwear aside. He dipped just one finger inside, and he groaned at how soaked you were.

"Can I fuck you, baby?" He asked, as if the answer would be anything but please. You nodded as hard as you could, and he started unzipping his jeans as fast as he could while keeping his eyes on you. You weren't sure he'd ever look away.

Meanwhile, you stood up off of him just enough to pull your soaked panties down your legs and kick them off. As he pulled his cock out, you vowed to give him head the next time you were together, because goddamn, you'd forgotten how nice of a sight he was like this.

He pulled a condom out of his pocket and rolled it on, still looking at you and only fumbling a couple of times in his trance.

"C'mere," he grabbed your waist and pulled until you were straddling him again, right above his cock. He grabbed your hips with one hand, and lined himself up with the other, then slowly started guiding you down onto him.

As he split you open, you forgot how to think, or talk, or do anything other than feel him inside of you. Every ridge, every inch. You let your head fall back as a keening moan erupted from your throat. He kissed everywhere he could, up and down your throat as he grunted against your skin.

You realized you couldn't even draw a steady breath, you were so overwhelmed by the feeling of being with him again.

His breath fanned your collarbone as he finally rested his forehead there and groaned your name. It was music on his lips.

The hand on your hip started guiding you to move, and you gently rocked your hips. God, had it ever felt this good before?

The feeling washed over you like honey, drenching your limbs and making your fingers tingle. Almost on their own, your hips picked up the pace, spreading the feeling everywhere in your body.

As you rode him faster, he pressed his face into your neck, letting the wetness from his crying earlier rub onto your skin. He was groaning at almost every thrust, incoherent mixtures of yes's and your name falling off his lips with every breath.

You were holding on for dear life, fingers fisted in his hair, when he grabbed under your thighs and stood up, slipping his cock out of you while you were still in his arms.

Anakin turned around and laid you down on your back as he busied himself throwing off his shirt and pants until he was bare in front of you. Within two more seconds, he was inside you again, this time thrusting into you from above.

He was holding himself up on his elbows, so his face was right above yours, eyes locked onto yours. You could see every reaction, every groan fall from his lips.

Usually, he was rough and made his hips smack yours, but, today, his thrusts were slow and languid, like he was trying to make it last as long as possible. You could live in this moment for the rest of your life. A particularly strong twitch of his cock made you whimper.

"Fuck, baby. You're so gorgeous like this," he breathed, pressing a kiss to your forehead tenderly. You locked your legs around him, holding him close, so that this wouldn't end. So that you could always stay here.

His breath hitched, and you knew he was getting close. You loved that you knew things like that about him, that only you knew that about him right now.

"Shit, fuck. Your pussy is so fucking good, like you were made for me," he groaned into your ear, speeding up until he was going faster than you thought he could. The intensity made you grasp at his back desperately, your nails catching on his skin. He hissed loudly. Anakin's cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was seconds away from his release. And you were even closer, that delicious tension building with every thrust.

His hand came between you to rub small circles on your clit, and then you were gone. Your mind went blank, and everything became just sensation. Warmth, all around you. Him, everywhere.

Somewhere far away, while you were still twitching around him, he groaned, low and loud and raw, as he came while sheathed deep in your pussy. Anakin laid his head in the crook of your neck while he recovered. His breath hitched as he took a shaky exhale, then pulled his cock out of you.

You didn't need to say any words, you both knew what you wanted. He pulled you into his arms like you were the most precious thing on the planet, then let his eyes slip closed. All the tension that had been building in your body was released, gone into the wind. All that was left was him, and the rise and fall of his chest as you lay against it.

"I missed you, too," you ventured after a few seconds of comfortable silence. He hummed, letting the hand trailing through your hair cup your jaw and pull you up for another kiss.

This one was tender, not about fucking, not about anything but his feelings for you. It was addicting, and, when it stopped, you almost pulled him in for another round. But it was midnight, and every muscle in your body was screaming.

Anakin said something about cleaning up and getting out of here, and you nodded, but you found you were having trouble with coherent thoughts at the moment. Anakin gently kissed your forehead and then rolled out of bed.

"'Kay, I'm gonna go look around for a bathroom, be back in a sec!" He called out, putting his clothes back on quickly, but not quickly enough that you didn't have time to check him out.

Even when he left the room, you were still smiling. You grabbed your phone, discarded somewhere near the bed, and sat back down. You wanted to text Ahsoka to thank her for bringing you to this party, for introducing you to Anakin, hell, for being born, when your homescreen reminded you of something.

54 Days, 18 hours, 27 seconds until Thesis Due Date

That pit opened in your stomach. You thought you had gotten rid of it, but there it was again. Everything went tight in your body, and suddenly all you could think was how could you have let yourself get this far behind? You had to get to work.

Something bumped your leg. It was Anakin's hand. You hadn't even heard him come in.

"Everything okay?" Anakin asked, with that gentle smile that hadn't really left him since you'd made up.

You looked at him, the man who you kind-of-sort-of-definitely had feelings for, and you shot him a half-assed smile as you locked your phone.

"Yeah," you said, your voice tight as you put it away. But, for the rest of the night, even when he walked you home and kissed you in front of the building--in public--it echoed in the back of your mind.

54 days.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):

@skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @johnbassplayercutie @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm @ann4zw @gimmefood

[pokemoncreepypasta]

Forever Mine

[STORY SOURCE]

I live in one of those small towns with a big community. It feels like everyone knows each other, and parents would visit their friends and leave their kids to mess around with each other. Classes in school weren’t very large.

So when there’s news about a kid dying, it travels at god-speed. 

Everyone at school kept talking about the death of this girl who was probably a year behind me.

I didn’t know her personally. I wouldn’t have even been able to tell you her name if everyone wasn’t talking about her.

I didn’t want to pick up gossip about how she died. I decided to attend her funeral myself. Not because we were friends or anything, but I did want to show my respect for this girl and her family.

The local funeral home was within biking range of my house, so I set off.

I sat awkwardly as I noticed her parents. I’m not usually very good at picking up feelings from people, but I could tell that beyond their grief was disappointment and maybe even hostility.

They made me wonder what she was thinking about before she died.

After she was buried, I hung around the cemetery. I’d wished I brought flowers with me, but decided I’d give her some the next time I stopped by.

Around this time, I had been aiming to get a Sky Forme Shaymin, since it was one of my favorite Pokémon back then.

I had caught a wild Shaymin using the "Pokémon Modifier" cheat code. I was terrible at coming up with creative names. But then, I remembered the name of the girl and thought it would suit a Shaymin rather well.

“Skye.”

Little did I know that this would invite strange things to start happening to my game.

I wanted to keep this Shaymin in its Sky Forme whenever possible, so I planned on keeping it in my team 24/7, only playing during daytime, etc. I was a dirty cheater who liked putting illegal moves on my Pokémon, so I taught Skye to use Fly.

At the time, I didn’t know you needed to catch the Shaymin in Flower Paradise to receive the Gracidea Flower, so when I talked to the blonde girl NPC in Floaroma Town, I had no idea why she wouldn’t give it to me.

So I was stuck with a Shaymin that knew Fly. It was weird, and I never really grew all that attached to it. Eventually I boxed it, forgot I had it, and released it without thinking.

The next time I booted up the game, I got this message.

“The save file is corrupted. The previous save file will be loaded.”

My first instinct was panic. I didn’t have any time to think or process the initial message, because all my hours were gone. With nervous anticipation, I started up the save file to see what the damage was.

To my surprise, I found myself on an incomplete Seabreak Path. The south path to Route 224 was cut off, with a featureless Shaymin staring vacantly over the edge.

I checked my party, and found none of my team members.

Only a level 100 Dusknoir with the move Follow Me.

Very useful, I thought. I’d have to boot up my Action Replay to teach this thing Fly in order to get off the island later.

Checking my items, I noticed everything was gone, save for a single PokéBall and an Escape Rope. Neither of which seemed particularly helpful for getting me off this island.

Out of curiosity though, I decided to see if Shaymin would be at Flower Paradise. I started my trek north, lamenting the loss of my bike.

To my surprise, Shaymin was there, despite never having Oak’s Letter or triggering the cutscene with it. Its face was obstructed by flowers, but it seemed like its pink flowers were missing just like the one I saw before.

I spoke to the Shaymin, and a message appeared.

“I remember you.”

“But… You don’t remember me, do you?”

The wild Shaymin attacked, and my heart stopped at its name.

“Skye appeared!”

Featureless, like before.

I felt a knot in my stomach, not even caring about the game. Something was very clearly wrong with it, and I wanted to stop playing. But I decided I was already taking pictures of the weird stuff that was happening, and I wanted to document it in full.

Steeling my resolve, I went about my options.

Dusknoir only knew Follow Me, so it was useless to weaken the Shaymin.

Remembering the PokéBall I had, I tossed it at the Shaymin.

Most people would be ecstatic to catch a Shaymin with full HP in a PokéBall on their first try, but I got the feeling that the game was rigged. There wasn’t any triumphant music playing either, which didn’t help my feelings about it.

I tried checking my newly caught Shaymin, but my game froze upon checking my party.

Upon restarting the system and starting the game up, this message appeared.

“My heart is corrupted. Please save me.”

My save file was gone for real this time. The trainer’s name was “SINNER”.

I live in a pretty religious community, so reading this made me ill at ease.

Starting up the game again, I found myself in the Lost Tower, playing as a featureless Shaymin.

My only Pokémon was the same Shaymin, named SINNER, knowing Fly, Scary Face, Fake Tears, and Spite.

A text box appeared when I tried to leave the tower.

“Today’s the day.”

It pushed me back, preventing my exit. The only option I had was to ascend.

No random encounters happened, and all the trainers wouldn’t interact with me.

It went this way until I went to the top floor. I’m pretty sure there isn’t supposed to be a man and woman NPC standing in this spot.

"There’s nothing left to say.”

Interacting with them just prompted this text.

It was here that I noticed a staircase that wasn’t supposed to be there.

I found myself on the top of the tower. I stepped into a scripted event, and the Shaymin faced the edge without my prompt.

"It's a long way down... Are you ready?"

Hoping for some way out of this, I wanted to say “no”, so I could cheat my way out of the tower and get my game back to normal. However, upon selecting it, this text appeared.

"You've held back for long enough. It's time to go."

“SINNER used the Escape Rope.”

A battle started against the same Dusknoir as before. I was intimidated to go against a level 100 Dusknoir, but then I remembered its only move was Follow Me, so it was harmless.

I realized that if I let SINNER faint, I could go to the last Pokémon Center and escape the tower.

I used Spite, thinking that if I reduced Follow Me’s PP, the Dusknoir would use Struggle and OHKO my Shaymin.

“The wild DUSKNOIR used Follow Me!”

“SINNER used Spite!”

“But there was no target...”

Dang it.

Deciding to experiment, I came to the conclusion that there was no harm in screwing around with SINNER’s attacks until DUSKNOIR ran out of PP. I chose Fly.

“The wild DUSKNOIR used Follow Me!”

“SINNER used Fly!”

“The wild DUSKNOIR used Follow Me!”

“SINNER kept going and crashed!”

Not the KO I was expecting, but I took it nonetheless.

The game, of course, crashed as soon as my Shaymin’s cry played, leaving nothing but pleasantly ear-grating screeching sounds.

I decided to take a break from playing for a moment to process what I just witnessed. I had a lot to digest.

The only conclusion I came to was that ghosts are real and this was the same Skye as the girl who died. Which would sound insane if I didn’t have the pictures to prove it.

I choked back tears. I was afraid. Why did Skye want me to see this?

I wanted to put the game down and be done with it. But if she had a message to give me, then I felt like I had to see it through to the end.

I guess I vainly hoped she’d pass on and find peace if I listened to what she was trying to say.

Another message when I started the game up again.

“I can’t fly. I tried to.”

I found myself at Spear Pillar. The staircase to the Hall of Origin was in front of me.

My exit was gone, so I just went straight to Arceus.

A level 100 Arceus stood before me.  

Instead of sending out my Shaymin, it stayed in the field. It was now bleeding. Its status said it was fainted, but it was still able to battle somehow.

I felt cornered. There was no way a level 14 Shaymin could take on something like this. I tried to use Fly, hoping it would give me the same result as before.

“Can’t use that here.”

It wouldn’t let me use the move. Instead, I just outright try to flee.

“Can’t escape!”

“ARCEUS used Judgment!”

I braced for impact...

“The wild ARCEUS’s attack missed!”

...But was pleasantly surprised to see it miss.

“I’m not ready yet.”

The game made me flee automatically.

The screen faded to black.

“I’m not ready. I’m not ready.”

“I’m scared.”

When the screen faded back to the overworld, I found myself in the Distortion World. The portal that takes you back to the main world was gone, so the only thing I could do was explore.

I found another Escape Rope while looking around.

It was the only thing noteworthy I could find, so I started trying to think of ways to get out of here.

I tried using Fly, since SINNER still knew it.

“There’s nowhere to fly to.”

Figures.

Trying to test my other options, I went to my bag and tried using the Escape Rope.

Of course, the “There’s a time and place for everything” message still appeared.

Deciding to mess around until I got results, I went to give the Escape Rope to SINNER.

“Don’t suppose you know what to do with this?” I muttered.

The game crashed again, and it assaulted my eardrums once more. I sharply inhaled, wondering if I touched a nerve.

I took a deep breath and started the game again.

My character’s name was now Skye.

I started in Floaroma Town. The first thing I did was rush to the Pokémon Center to check on my Pokémon in the PC. Of course, they were all gone.

I’d grieve for them later, though. Maybe Skye would be nice to me and give them back.

While I was in the center, I figured it might’ve been good to heal the faint status off of the Shaymin.

Sure it is. Glad you can tell when something is suffering, nurse.

Heading outside, I talked to the blonde NPC.

“You should always give flowers to someone who has passed away.”

“It’s rude not to.”

“You got the Gracidea!”

I was suddenly feeling very guilty for not leaving flowers before.

Wondering if I could fix the poor Shaymin in my party if I used the flower on her, I went to try it.

“It won’t have any effect.” 

Of course not.

The blonde NPC turned into my Shaymin. I spoke to her.

“That won’t help me.” 

Yeah, I thought not.

At a loss of ideas on what to do next, I absentmindedly made my way to Valley Windworks and walked around in the grass.

A wild Sky Forme Shaymin appeared.

I sent out Skye, of course.

I chose the fight option, and the battle continued without me selecting a move.

“The wild SHAYMIN used Reflect!”

“Skye’s rage is building!”

“Skye used Cut!”

“She hurt herself in her confusion!”

The Sky Form Shaymin was knocked out in one hit, despite the game telling me Skye had hurt herself.

Back on the overworld, I found the mangled parts of the Sky Forme Shaymin lying in the grass. I inspected them.

“Please put me back together.”

It gave me another prompt, and I chose yes.

The screen faded to black.

And then Skye appeared again in a black abyss, with Skymin ears and flower. My trainer was nowhere to be seen.

I checked my party to see that Skye had changed again. Her cry sounded like a distorted mix of Shaymin’s two forms.

I went back to the overworld and was unable to move. Instead, a dialogue box appeared.

“Can you hear me?”

"Thank you for caring about me.”

"I can fly now.”

“Because...”

“I love you.”

My heart skipped a beat. My hands began to shake.

“You must care about me too, right?”

“So... I’m going to stay with you.”

“I won’t leave, not without someone who loves me.”

“Will you fly away with me?”

My shaky hands went to say no. I didn’t want to be like her.

"...”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll change your mind.”

“You’re mine now.”

“You’re mine forever.”

With that last line, the game froze.

The first thing I did was take the game out of the system. I decided to drop off all my Pokémon games at the nearest GameStop. I didn’t want her talking to me anymore.

So why do I feel like she’s still here?

[fieryfafarfanfics]

Clumsy Denial

 He is, in any way, not in love with Devina.  Over and over and over again he reminds himself as some sort of mystical mantra. In the course of 4 years that they have been friends – much to his amazement still, sometimes – Bede would never, ever, acknowledge the fact that his heart has been completed ensnared by the Galarian Champion.  She is annoying; he can confirm that. Not a day passed by that she would sometimes drop by Ballonlea and pay him a visit. At first, it irritated him. The boy was there to train, to become stronger. What was once against his will at first is now his life goal as Bede aimed to become the strongest gym leader in Galar – and succeeded when he turned 18.  He will always keep the image of a frustrated Raihan ingrained in his mind as sheer entertainment.  But that was it. That was supposed to be it. Fast forward to them being 17, Devina would so often stand by his front door, asking to hang out or battle together, anything really if it meant being by his side. It’s baffling, really. Bede found it absolutely ridiculous that she thought he would find the time or energy to be near her.  …In a way, she was correct about that part.

 Ugh… Left eye crinkles in discomfort at the memory. His skin shivers. Though violet eyes drill at nothing in particular, Bede feels irritated as if someone is laughing at the line of memories in his brain.  She is calm. Too calm. The first time he saw her, Bede briefly wondered if the girl could emote at all. Just a simple smile was seen when she won her battle against him.  Arceus, he hated that.  Her smile? The feeling of being a sore loser to the once stranger? The fact that her smile at that time was for her Raboot and not him? He couldn’t tell.  And he didn’t want to.  It doesn’t help that her calmness is the hammer that shatters his walls.  Ugh… One hand weakly slaps his face. He needs to get his shit together. Fingers separate a space of his opened right eye. He still remembers the first time she smiled for him, so bright and beautiful, so for him. It took her a while to flash such genuine happiness for him when they were kids. Bede couldn’t blame her. He was the one who broke Hop’s hopes and dreams for a while that, when he and Devina did meet again, the boy saw nothing but pure anger and scorn on her face.  The shivering worsens. Bede quickly realizes he never wants to see those expressions on her to him ever again.  Slap! Both hands smack his beet red cheeks. He rues having white hair and quite fair skin, for the blush on each cheek is a pretty spotlight that beckons the attention of many.  I’m not in love with her. I’m not in love with her! Over and over and over again he mentally chants. Holding a puff of air inside his lungs, Bede shakes his head furiously before walking out of the gym.  He needs to stop thinking about her. ---  He soon finds out that, in order to stop thinking about her, he needs to stop meeting her.  “Bede!” Her voice chirps so adorably like a baby Rookidee. Happily she runs towards him, one arm waving left and right in sheer excitement. Crimson eyes shine brilliantly under the roaring sun. Eyelashes flutter up and down, each a flicker of elegance from a brand of mascara she is sponsoring at the moment. The famous red jacket she always wore since she was 16 is snugged comfortably on her body.  Bede remains statuesque in his spot.  She stops in front of him. Dark hair bobs lightly at her single bounce. The bangs on her forehead is now a bit longer, Bede realizes, as Devina brushes it away from her beaming eyes.  Arceus, she takes his breath away.  A smile so bright it rivals the sun, Devina cups both hands together. “I’m here!” she beams. “I’m not late!” she laughs.  One hand is brought behind his back, shivering and clenched to a fist.  “You’re here.” He bluntly states. “You’re not late.” He blatantly repeats. His heart a frantic chaos, Bede holds a breath. “You know, I mean when I say I don’t mind your company.” He is not in love with her. “But any reason why you sound so ecstatic when you called us to meet today?” He is not in love with her sweet laugh.  She doesn’t reply immediately. Her smile remains, though.  This taunts the young man.  “Sonia and Hop just came back from a professor convention in Hoenn. And they brought a lot of cool Pokémon pictures!” Without waiting for a reply, she swings her knapsack to the side and rummages inside it. “I mean, obviously they got a lot of data along with the pictures,” she continues, crimson eyes now focus on searching for the contents, “but some of the photos are so cool and I saw some really beautiful fairy Pokémon I know you’ll be thrilled to know about!”  Ah, how his heart melts at the thought that she was thinking about him.  As quick as how his feelings soften for her, he immediately shakes his head in a vain attempt of denying the obvious.  I’m not in love with her. “What kind of Pokémon would possibly make me so thrilled to know about it?” He is curious, excited.  The brief glance and smile she gives him is an arrow that shoots through his mad heart.  “I think it’s called a Primarina?” Eyes squint slightly in annoyance when she realizes her hand can’t find the picture. Holding the bag right in front of her now, Devina brings her head lower. “Ugh, I know I put it in here somewhere…” White teeth carefully nibble the insides of her lower lip. Pink tongue subconsciously juts out in cute frustration.  Bede wonders what it’s like to put that tongue back into her mouth with his own—  He shakes his head even faster.  “AHA!”  Both jump at the voice. One in exaggerated satisfaction while other in nervous shock. “Found it!” Joy echoes in the magical town of Ballonlea. Right hand gripping the photo as if it was a gold coin, while her left hand gently pats her beating chest. Smile never gone from the Divine Champion, Devina slings her knapsack back to her shoulders. “Here it is, Bede. The beautiful water-fairy Pokémon!”  Stupor still leaves the man in a daze. It takes him a few heavy seconds, but the gym leader snaps back to reality once he sees her pretty smile.  “Oh.” He murmurs. “O-Oh…!” He stutters.  She was once a calm girl when they first met. But now…now…Bede is forever baffled at the range of emotions in this dazzling woman.  “Right—right!” Laughter chokes between such a foolish reply. Immediately he straightens his back. Immediately both arms are slapped by his sides. “Sorry. Your scream is sometimes so bloody loud, I almost mistook you for a Loudred.”  Those pretty pink lips pull a pretty pink pout.  “Shut up.” She sticks her tongue out.  I’m not in love—! I’m not in love—! “Just give it to me.” Curiosity tickles his fancy at the photo. But awe and raw nerves quickly overtake any emotion that resides within him—  Whoosh!  Just when his fingers were about to touch the photo, it instead got blown away by the simple breeze of the wind.  “Ah.” He dumbly responds.  “Ah!” She quickly exclaims.  While the two react in different ways, their bodies seem to move in exact unison. Both have their arms stretched up. Both start to move towards the direction of the hovering photo. Bede takes a few steps back. Back and back until his fingers manage to press together against the photo.  His capture has a price, however; his steps falter, and Bede can feel himself falling backwards.  Uh oh!  “Bede!”  Everything happens way too fast.  The first second, he felt his body falling backwards. He was ready to accept the painful result of his back hitting the concrete wall. For a split second, Bede actually hoped that his fluffy hair would break his fall.  But it didn’t.  Because in the next second, he feels something holding him in the air. He feels something – arms, he figures – wrapped around his back. He feels something – a hand, he feels – firmly yet gently holding his right shoulder.  He feels something – someone’s breathing – right on his face.  Violet eyes snap open – he didn’t even realize he had them closed. And the moment vision starts to sharpen around its surroundings, Bede feels all air has been shoved right out of his lungs.  “Are you okay…?”  Her voice. Calm and cool. Warm and soothing. Her smile is finally gone from such a pretty face, but now replaced with a fiery gaze that burns right through his soul. Her glasses stay in place, the lens further magnifying such assertive crimson irises. Her eyes are hooded slightly, yet Bede can see each pupil enlarge just the slightest. The dark bangs of her hair cascade forward, some strands are tucked behind her glasses while others brush his forehead.  Pink lips are close – so dangerously close – to his. Full lips are parted slightly, just as his own are too. Warm breath flows in, and out, and in, and out. Heavy. Then slow. Her breath caresses his opening mouth, tickling the twitching tongue inside. The tip of her nose is a mere inch away from his own. And if Devina were to tip her head slightly, she would definitely earn a cute whimper at the simple brush of skin against skin.  The hand that holds his shoulder slowly releases its grip, slowly moves to his back. Fingers brush the little ponytail at the back of his neck, dangerously tickling him into sheer submission.  And by the sun and stars and moon clouds, Bede truly feels his legs turning into jelly the moment Devina huskily murmurs, “Are you hurt…?”  Bloody hell… His face is now burning right to the tips of his ears. Bloody…fucking…hell! His breathing is now harsher than any ghastly sandstorm in the wild area.  He is, in every way, completely in love with Devina. END

[gouthepro]

Monopoly and Music

heyy so this was my first firstfriendshipping fic i ever wrote so yea hope you like it

Gou's POV.

It was crazy. Me, Ash, Koharu and her cousin's Max and Juliet were all hanging out in the living room at the lab.

Max and Juliet were fighting over who got to pick the next song that we were playing on the TV over YouTube connected to our phones.

Koharu was sitting at the other end of the sofa I was sitting on reading a book while I read through the instructions for the Monopoly game I had just spent ages setting up on a small tables in front of me unused since no one knew how to play it.

Well technically not unused since Ash was sitting crossed legged on the board that was still lying on he table playing some app on his Rotom phone.

I smiled to myself a bit at the scene playing out in front of me wishing it could last forever since even though the TV was playing a meme version of the Thomas the tank engine theme that Max had put on ten minutes ago, it was strangely peaceful.

Ding ding

I looked down at my phone at the sudden dings that were my notifications then giggled a bit when I spotted who was texting me. Ash. For even though he was sitting right in front of me it was apparently much easier to text me.

I unlocked my phone and checked my messages

Ash: is it just me or is this photo the truth?

Ash: 

       Immediately I realized why Ash had been so quiet of course he was making a meme of course he was!

I decided to copy his actions and reply over text.

Gou: yup but where did you get that second photo?

Ash: you sent it to me remember

Oh that's right I did send him that photo ages ago...

Gou: anyway why are we texting your literally right in front of me?

Ash: errr...

"Errr... I don't know?" Ash replied finally speaking I rolled my eyes and laughed "Of course only you would do that Ash!" Ash grinned at me like he'd just won the lottery "Yup I'm one of a kind!" I smirked at him "Probably a good thing." I teased.

That was when Koharu looked over at us and gave us probably the most confused-annoyed look I've ever seen me and Ash locked eyes for a second and burst out laughing.

As we were recovering from our laughing fits Koharu, Max and Juliet's nan opened the door to the room and yelled "Juliet! Max! Koharu! Can I speak to you quickly?" The three shot up and began to leave the room only pausing for long enough for Juliet to pause the music (still Thomas the tank engine by the way) and for long enough for Koharu to give me and Ash another weird look that set us off laughing again the second they left the room.

"OMG I cannot believe-" Ash began before dissolving in to laughter again "I know right! That face though!" I wheezed out through deep breaths, eventually we both regained normal control over our breathing I started to speak again "So what should we do untill the others get back?" I asked.

Ash seemed to deeply think about this for a second before shrugging and saying "I dunno" I rolled eyes and shook my head at him "Ok well let's just talk then."

"Sure what about?"

"Umm I don't know?" Now it was my turn to be on the recieving end of an eye roll suddenly before either of us could say anything the TV started playing a song called Crazy NCS release, Juliet or Koharu must have put it on since I know for a fact if it was Max we'd be hearing a meme like "road work ahead, ah yeah I sure hope it does" or something.

Either way it wasn't long before Ash started singing along to Crazy "When there's no hope hiding, No chance concealing, What deep down i felt for you."

Without realising it I joined in. "I regret for loosing, The one who loved me, For who I can't go back to."

Ash grinned at me and continued. "Walking through all the dust, Memories in flame, A past we simply let fade."

The grin on my face now mirroring the one on Ash's I continued. "But I don't close the door, Waiting the chance, For when we'll be back again."

Ash's face turned excited as he began the chorus. "You make me feel so crazy, Still in love with you."

I also turned excited as I continued the chorus. "You make me feel amazing, When I'm next to you."

Ash's voice grew louder as he sang. "You make me feel so crazy, My heart breaks for you."

Making my voice louder I rounded off the chorus with. "Can't help but knowing, That I'm still in love with you, You make me feel so-"

We were both silent as I finished that last line and the music in between the first chorus and the second verse played and then Ash continued "When there's no hope loving, For you who saw me, Before I knew who I'd be."

I then continued chiming in just as Ash finished singing the last note of be. "What I have around me, Means nothing to me, If I can't share it with you."

Raising his voice a little less than last time Ash sang. "Walking through all the dust, Memories in flame, A past we simply let fade."

Trying to imatate Ash's pitch I continued yet again with "But I don't close the door, Waiting the chance, For when we'll be back again.'

Belting out the words slightly higher than the way he did in the first chorus Ash sung the second chorus. "You make me feel so crazy, Still in love with you."

Once again copying Ash's tone I sung. "You make me feel amazing, When I'm next to you."

A new expression appeared on Ash's face for a brief millisecond before he continued. "You make me feel so crazy, My heart breaks for you."

And as I finished the last words I realized something we might just be singing a song so eachother but what we were singing was true. "Can't help but knowing, That I'm still in love with you, You make me feel so-"

The music played, mine and Ash's eyes were locked my ice blue ones staring in to his hazel brown ones suddenly without even knowing what force was propelling my body I leaned forwards at the same time Ash did no clear goal was visible in my head but somewhere deep down I knew what was happening and I was ecstatic about it the only remaining gap between me and Ash closed and our lips were touching and perfectly fitting together creating that most incredible feeling that you might get when kissing your soulmate or the one you love.

The latter applying to Ash and Gou the two were really feeling the magic in this one tiny gesture of pure true love...

Then the moment as quick as it began was over as the music stopped and the sound of Koharu, Max and Juliet's noisy footsteps and chatter came towards the door, the two boys pulled apart from eachother blushing as they quickly re assumed the positions they had been in before the others had left and in perfect timing too Koharu and her cousins entered the room to see Ash on his phone and Gou reading the Monopoly instructions.

In fact the only sign that anything had ever happened was the huge blushes on their faces and the music being different to before.

"Sorry we took so long." Apologized Juliet "You see our Nan took longer to ask us than we thought she would." Gou looked up "Oh don't worry about it we were fine! Right Ash?" Ash also looked up "Yup we sure were!" Koharu nodded "That's good then I was half worried you'd have gone off trying to jump on another legendary Pokémon!" She laughed before Max spoke up "So guys what should we watch now?"

Ash looked over at him "Just put that meme back on it was funny!" He called leaping off the board "Got it!" Replied Max sitting down next to his sister who had already began to find the meme Koharu sat back down on the opposite end of the sofa to Gou and picked her book back up off the right hand arm of the sofa and continued reading everything was the same as if nothing ever happened except.

Ash walked forwards a few steps and sat down on the left hand arm of the sofa right next to Gou and just as the meme was starting he whispered to his friend and crush "Crazy?"

[jumpchain-drop]

Chapter 1.1: 0.0 Years

“….aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

CRASH!

I landed in a face-down belly flop. It hurt, but somehow I don’t think I was injured. Still took a minute to get up.

“Again…?” I moaned.

I was in the middle of the desert. The sun was high up and blazing down with full force. Thankfully I have a hat on now. Also a backpack. Felt pretty heavy. Thankfully I was still in some version of my original outfit, with long sleeves and pants that covered enough skin to keep it from getting burnt. There’s some mountains in the distance, but otherwise the only thing breaking up the forever-long barren landscape is some diner or gas station place, not too terribly far away.

Also I felt like a lot shorter. Later I would learn I was regressed back to twelve years old.

Wanted to check my bag out, but also wanted to be fine with my vitamin D levels for awhile, so I started walking for the diner station.

The hot sand gave way to hot asphalt, which probably would’ve been hotter were it not so faded. A few cars and a couple motorcycles were in the parking lot around the diner. Thankfully, there was a place I can sit in the building’s shadow. No one else seemed to be around at the moment; presumably the inside has air conditioning.

I took the backpack off my back and take a look through its contents. A flip-top phone-like device; the screen says “Pokégear.” I think to check my own pockets; they’re empty except my chapstick and a thick wad of strange paper bills with a “P” symbol on them. So, I guess I still have a phone. There’s another small electronic – a Pokédex, looks like the Unova model. Three green-and-purple spray bottles and five red-and-white balls; Potions and Poké Balls. A laminated Trainer Card with my name and picture on it, registered by the Unovan Pokémon League as a trainer starting a couple months ago.

So apparently I was supposed to have an adventure in the world of Pokémon. Funny; Mad Max wasn’t far from my first guess. It occurs to me I’m in Orre. Don’t remember this exact place, though. I never got far in that game.

There’s some other things here too. A key attached to a Master Ball keychain. A small laptop computer (though the diner’s wi-fi is secured). And was that…? Why the heck do I have a collapsible billy club?

I was still looking at the thing in my hand, thinking that, when I heard some sort of distant screech. I look up.

A bit into the desert, out of nowhere, there was a large flock of blue creatures with purple wings, circling in the air.

The hell’s a bunch of Zubat doing in the middle of the desert, I remember thinking.

That’s when I saw what they were circling around: a plant-like lump, mostly green but with plenty of brown shades.

Gheeze, they were like vultures! What were they even hunting…? It occurred to me to pull out the Pokédex and turn it on, pointing it towards the thing the Zubat were circling around. Even at this distance, it managed to detect what species the poor creature was.

A Turtwig…?! Out here in the middle of the desert…?!

Something just switched on. I was never much of a hero before, more of a coward, but I didn’t want to see what they were going to do to that Turtwig.

In moments, my backpack was closed on my back, everything back inside except the billy club, fully unfolded.

And I ran in yelling like a lunatic.

The next minute I burst through the door of the diner and slammed it shut behind me, producing several thunks as the Zubat swarm barreled into it before they could change course. “Quick!” I shouted to whoever was at the counter. “This Turtwig needs water!”

A few hours passed as I nursed for the Turtwig back to health. Thankfully the diner only charged for the Potions I bought from them with just a bit of the money I have, because she drank a lot of water. Oh yeah, the Turtwig turned out to be female. According to the ‘Dex, Turtwig shells are made of hard soil, growing harder if watered, and feeling slightly moist if they’re healthy. Well, her shell was getting harder. I also had something to eat, pigs-in-a-blanket (though they called it “Mankey in a Wrap”), to keep my strength up while doing it.

During that time, people were going in and out without any Zubat leaking through, so I assumed they buzzed off somewhere.

Eventually, she regained consciousness. She looked up at me with fond eyes. Who knows what she must have gone through, being a Grass-type in Orre’s harsh climate. She nuzzled into my hand when I tried to pet her. I bought her a couple Oran Berries to fill up on.

“That your Turtwig?” the guy at the counter asked.

“No, I found her outside,” I replied. “Think she’s wild?”

“Pokémon like that ain’t wild ‘round here. Probably abandoned.”

“Even someplace as harsh as this…?”

“Never underestimate humankind’s ability to hurt, kid.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

For a while she got off the table and sat in my lap as I did a better check of my things. I decided against bringing the laptop out in some seedy-looking place as this. There was, however, something in my bag I didn’t notice before. Tucked behind the laptop was a notebook with a massive word “JUMP” on the cover, with a spiral binding and a mechanical pencil tucked into it. I opened the first page to see there was already writing on it.

Layer 1:

You have 10 years in this world.

Time is paused wherever you left.

Your motorcycle is nearby.

You keep your perks and gear afterward.

You may only keep 6 Pokémon afterward, one of which must be the first Pokémon you catch. The rest stay behind.

Entertain me.

Was this written by the owner of that voice in the cylinder? Asshole.

“Hey, kid. Catch.”

I looked up just in time for a Poké Ball to hit my forehead. “Ouch!”

“Hey, sorry, I said catch,” the guy at the counter said.

“My hands were busy,” I said with a wince, putting everything away. I picked the ball up. “A Poké Ball?”

“For your Turtwig. On the house.”

“For… But she’s not...”

“I can see she’s taken a shine to you,” he said. “She might as well be.”

I looked down at her to see her looking up at me. After a second, I hold the ball up to her. She nosed the button on the front and, in a flash of light, she vanished into it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. CLICK.

So… I guess my first Pokemon’s a Turtwig. Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a Magikarp.

I decide it’s time for me to go. After making sure I’m fully stocked on food and water and everything’s packed safely away, I start to walk out.

“Hey, kid.”

I give the guy at the counter one last look.

“Be careful out there, OK? There’s these punks running around, Team Snagem. They can make Poké Balls that can steal Pokémon from trainers. You keep your new friend safe, OK?”

Team Snagem is an issue? I’m not fully solid on the timeline. I mean, I watched this loud guy do a Let’s Play of both games, but why the hell am I remembering that now?

I gave him a nod and said, “I will.” Then I go outside. Still no Zubat in sight.

The closest city here seems a really long way to walk there. Then I remembered the notebook mentioned I had a motorcycle. I look around the parking lot and notice this unassuming bike in the shade. It had a decal sticker of a Master Ball on it.

I pulled out the key that was in my bag, got on, and put it in the ignition. The engine turned.

I put on the helmet in the little storage compartment on the back and, somehow knowing how to drive a motorcycle, I set off into the desert.

“Entertain me…?” Fuck that guy, he took away ten years of my life. Even if time on Earth was frozen, I would be mentally ten years older when I got back. Plus I left Earth by dropping through a hole. What is this guy’s deal anyway? Whatever. Fuck this, I thought, I need to find someplace to survive around here.

Me and Terra.

That’s my Turtwig’s nickname now. Just in case that wasn’t clear.

[nyctolovian]

“I can’t believe it! This place is still here!” Apollo yelled above the racket of the night market crowd.

“Yes, it is,” Nahyuta said as he pushed through the sea of people to reach the stall. Apollo tagged closely behind with a nearly-swept-by-the-crowd Rayfa clinging to his overcoat, and he looked around in awe and nostalgia.

Behind the stall were people from all walks of life spilling onto the street, just like he remembered. There were people in office wear squeezed onto a small table, old men who wore just boxers and tank tops, large families that chattered away, and rowdy students gaming on their phones while waiting for their food to arrive. The stall sign lit up in bright yellow, practically screaming its menu in red, but it was less bright with dirt, grime and age. People had to share tables and whenever a large group of people came, a round wooden board was rolled out and the foldable table was set up in a jiffy for them (not after some yells and loud bangs, of course).

Apollo smiled at this relic of a scene. How on earth had it stayed the way he remembered it?

After asking around, the trio finally managed to squish into a large roundtable with a family of five. They thanked the family as they sat down. Then, the two groups of people settled back into their own conversations.

Rayfa picked up the menu and Apollo peered over to read it too. He saw what he wanted instantly. “They still sell it!” he said excitedly. “They still sell the beef noodles!”

Amused, Nahyuta leaned back slightly in his plastic stool to look past Rayfa and at Apollo. “Of course they do. It’s their specialty.”

“I know. But still.”

With a chuckle, he replied, “I get it. So exactly how you liked it when you were younger?”

With the biggest grin, Apollo nodded. He felt a vibration in his pocket, and somehow fished out his phone without elbowing anybody. “Datz said he’s running late. He wants beef tendon and rice.”

Looking down, Nahyuta asked, “Then, have you decided what you want, Rayfa?”

Her brow was furrowed in thought. “I kind of want the yak noodles... but mutton sounds really good too.”

“I could get mutton and share some with you if you want.”

She lit up. “Yes!”

“Then, what about drinks?”

“Barley!”

“Sour plum,” Rayfa said.

“Datz probably wants barley as well,” Nahyuta mumbled mostly to himself. “I’ll be back.”

+++++

By the time Nahyuta does return however, the gush of people has already dwindled to a constant trickle, and he was accompanied by shouts.

“Come again, Yuty!” roared the gruff voice from behind the stall. “It was cool seeing you again!”

Nahyuta’s face only grew redder. If he wasn’t holding the tray of food, he probably would have buried his face in his hands.

Rayfa huffed as she lifted the bowls off the tray. “Next time, don’t spend so much time talking. We’re starving over here.”

“Who was that anyway?”

“Ya’mi Qui’zin,” Nahyuta muttered. “Son of the owner. And I wasn’t doing most of the talking. He was.”

“Hold up! Ya’mi?” Apollo said in surprise. “The snotty kid with about a million Pokémon cards?”

“Yes.”

Wearing an open-mouthed grin, Apollo turned and craned his neck back in a futile attempt to catch a glimpse of his childhood friend. “I thought he swore he’d never make noodles when he grew up?”

“He’s currently training to be a tattooist at the newest shop in this street. It’s called Human Print. But he still helps his mother on busier nights, which is practically everyday.”

Rayfa hummed. “You know so much about him. Must be pretty close.”

Nahyuta grimaced. “Not really. I know all of that during my time spent at the front of the queue.”

That made Apollo throw his head back, laughing. “That sounds just like him!”

A loud crash from not far away interrupted their conversation. This was followed by yells and screams and chicken squawking.

Eyes wide, Apollo whispered, “Please tell me that’s not Datz.”

A colourfully dressed man came stumbling out of the crowd. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Oh no,” said Apollo as he ducked his head behind his wide sleeve. Rayfa suddenly seemed very invested in stirring her bowl of noodles.

With a long-suffering sigh, Nahyuta just waved his hand. That caught Datz attention quickly and he made a beeline for his saved seat.

“Apollo!” Datz sat beside him, clapping his back. “You’re wearing Khura’in stuff! I almost didn’t recognise you in this outfit!”

Apollo bit back a Really wish you didn’t.

Nahyuta slid a bowl over to Datz.

“Thanks! Oh! It’s been so long since I could last eat from here!” Loudly, he said, “After I was put on the Wanted posters, I couldn’t even go grocery shopping anymore! Not to mention eat out!” He tucked right into his food.

Now the family we‘re sharing tables with is finishing up as quickly as they can. And... they left, Apollo thought, pursing his lips, as he watched them scuttle (or hobbling) away and pulling their child closer. I would too if it was socially acceptable.

Judging from the look on Rayfa’s face and the way she scooted a little further from Datz, she probably had similar thoughts.

Nahyuta sighed loudly and said, “Let’s eat now.”

Seeing everyone beginning to eat, Apollo grabbed the chili sauce and added some to his bowl. With a pair of chopsticks, he mixed it before picking some noodles into his spoon and eating it.

It tasted just as amazing as it did in the past, and possibly even more with the fond memories and feelings that surged up his chest at the familiar taste of broth and springy noodles. Warmth filled him, maybe from the piping hot noodles or something else entirely.

He placed some noodles in his spoon. However, when he lifted it, his hand just hovered in front of his lips, trembling slightly.

When he was a kid, He, Nahyuta and Datz would frequently travel down to the night market and buy takeaways to eat at home because Dhurke was too recognizable as the leader of the revolution. Occasionally, under the insistence of the kids, Datz would let them eat first before ordering takeaways for himself and Dhurke, who’d then grumble playfully about the lack of love he received from his children. (“Betrayal! From my very own children!”)

The last time Apollo came down the mountains for dinner, he had eaten from this stall, but he hadn’t known it would be his last time in a long time.

Steeling himself, Apollo pushed the spoon into his mouth and followed that with several more spoons of noodles that made his chest grow tighter and tighter with each mouthful.

It had always felt like they would forever have these relaxed days in between several continuous days where they had to stay in the mountains and out of sight. Things felt eternal when you were a kid. But, suddenly, the revolution took a chaotic turn and the country descended into further conflict. Then, the first time in several weeks that he left the house, he was hurriedly whisked out by Datz.

There was no time to breathe, and the next thing he knew: his next breath was of Japanifornia air. Facing the unrelenting wall of radio silence from his family in Khura’in while stuck in a foreign country, he had felt horribly alone. And for several months, maybe he was.

Apollo was mechanically feeding himself noodles at this point. It wasn’t until he saw something drip into his broth that he was startled out of his own thoughts. He looked up into the night sky. Was it raining?

He sniffled.

Oh.

He ducked his head and continued to eat. Now that he noticed it, however, he was abruptly too conscious of himself and the concerned looks Datz, Nahyuta and Rayfa were giving him.

As discreetly as possible, he rubbed his eyes and sniffled.

Shit. There was no way they didn’t notice that. Also, his cheeks were definitely much too wet.

“Damn, this is spicy as hell!” Apollo yelled to mask the waver in his voice and breathed deeply through his mouth as if to demonstrate this. “I added too much damn chili! And now, I’m crying.” He forced out a chuckle. “Spicy! Spicy!”

“They might have changed the chili brand they use,” Nahyuta mused.

Apollo’s bracelet pulsed around his wrist.

Rayfa crossed her arms. “You can’t even stand a little bit of spice! Clearly, leaving Khura’in has made your tongue weak!” she declared. “We will make sure you get used to the local cuisine again!”

Was that the princess’ attempt at cheering him up?

“Do you want some water, ‘Pollo?” Datz asked, leaping to his feet.

“I’d like that,” he choked out.

Datz came back with a cup of water and sat down. After several gulps of water, Apollo was feeling slightly better, breathing a little easier. When he placed the cup back down, he couldn’t help but notice Datz’s chair had grown nearer still to Apollo’s.

As the night stretched out into comfortable silence, the four of them found themselves huddled a little closer, leaving a large gap at the other side of the round table.

[picturesmadewords-blog]

We can fly - a Teddy & Billy ficlet

Hello, fellow Young Avengers fans! This is my very first non-reblog post on my all-new tumblr that I decided to create for my writings - if and when I get to write more, that is. The thing is, I used to write a lot until a few years ago. I was very active in my country’s Harry Potter fandom and wrote tons of Remus x Sirius stories. But, as I got older, I abandoned writing more and more… until this summer, when I couldn’t take it anymore: I had too many scenes and characters in my mind to let them sleep there forever, so I decided to start writing again. We’ll see how this goes.

I wanted to try something with my absolute favorite Marvel characters, Teddy Altman and Billy Kaplan. Being a gay man who was a teenager when these two first came bursting into comics, I owe a lot to them. And I have tons of little scenes and snippets with them floating around in my head, so here we are. My first post is a ficlet set during the events of Young Avengers v1, specifically right after Teddy’s mom’s death. On the day of her funeral, to be more precise. I’m sure this has been done before, but I really wanted to give shape to my version of it. It’s not much, but there’s a lot of heart in it and all the fluff I need to survive the horrible world we’re currently living in.

As I said, this is my first real piece of writing in years, so any kind of comment is welcome. I just want to see if I still have something worthy to say with my writing. It’s also my first piece of writing about Marvel characters AND my first piece of fiction in English. English is not my first language, so ANY kind of comment about style/form/possible grammar mistakes is highly appreciated.

Now, onto the fic!

Title: We can fly

Fandom: Young Avengers (Marvel comics)

Characters: Billy Kaplan, Teddy Altman, Jeff Kaplan, Rebecca Kaplan, Eli Bradley

Rating: G

POV: Billy (first section), Teddy (second and third sections)

“Call me, man. Whenever you want. Don’t ride this out alone. Neither of you should.”

Billy nodded. He stared deeply into Eli’s eyes and saw something unexpected there. He hadn’t seen Eli cry at the funeral, he didn’t think so. But the boy’s eyes were now shiny. If he hadn’t cried, he looked like he was about to. That wasn’t something Billy was used to. That look of defeat in his teammate’s eyes. In his friend’s eyes. Those eyes said so much more than “I’m sad because my friend’s mom died.” Those eyes seemed to say that now it was real. Not that Billy thought Eli hadn’t taken it seriously from the first moment Nate appeared in his life, but what they had gone through, the terrible, scary things they had gone through, weren't enough to prepare them for this. Losing someone, actually losing someone. Billy saw Eli's love for his grandparents in those eyes. He had seen the fear of losing his own parents in his own eyes that morning, when he had briefly looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.

And then, something else wholly unexpected. Eli hugged him. He pulled him close and hugged him and hugged him. When he let go, Billy had no idea how to react. He smiled faintly. The kind of gratitude he was feeling for Eli couldn’t be expressed in words.

They were on the doorsteps of his house. The sky was grey and there was a chill in the air. “Like in the movies,” Billy thought. “There’s always bad weather at funerals.”

Eli looked at Kate, who was waiting for him outside. He gave one last friendly smile and left. Kate waved at Billy and, once they were out of sight, the boy closed the door.

He turned to the living room. He was facing the back of the sofa, which was placed right in the middle of the room. The sight of the messy blonde hair visible just above the back cushions made his heart jump a little. “Man up, Kaplan. Man up,” he kept thinking. He closed his eyes, took a heavy breath and walked towards the sofa.

“Hey.” Billy tried to put on his best comforting smile. Teddy was sort of slouching on the sofa, his head low, his hands dangling between his legs, his black tie loosened. The plate Billy had prepared for him still lay untouched on the coffee table – a sandwich, some chips, a small portion of some sort of casserole one of his aunts must’ve brought. Glancing at it, Billy suddenly recoiled at the smell of food lingering in the house, as if he had only noticed it now that everyone had gone.

He sat on the sofa next to Teddy. The boy looked like he was somewhere else, somewhere far away, where hopefully he was still a happy teenager with a beautiful boyfriend and a loving mother, and not an alien prince with a dead parent who had lied to him his whole life.

Billy leaned on his shoulder. He enclosed Teddy’s huge frame with one arm, or tried to. And then the most exquisite, the most heartwarming thing happened. Billy had feared anger, tears, coldness, all things that would have been natural and that he would have faced with strength and perseverance for his boyfriend’s sake. He had not expected Teddy to melt into his embrace, his lovely face burrowed into Billy’s neck, his arms tight around Billy’s waist.

Teddy was big, much bigger than Billy’s slender figure, and yet he looked so small and fragile in Billy’s arms. All the boy could do was to rest his head on Teddy’s shoulders, feeling Teddy’s breath close to his chest, so warm, so soft through his white shirt.

They stayed like that for several minutes, in complete silence. There were no tears, no words of comfort, just two boys tangled together, Teddy safely hidden in Billy’s arms, Billy slowly stroking Teddy’s back.

A sound coming from the kitchen. And, a few seconds later, Jeff and Rebecca Kaplan standing in the doorway, both looking tired and much older than Billy ever remembered. Billy didn’t even try to let go of Teddy, he had no intention of letting go, parents or no parents. If anything, he held Teddy even closer, a sudden, overpowering sense of protectiveness washing over him. He’s mine and he needs me and I will hold him for the rest of my life if that’s what he needs.

“Billy, son, we’re going to your aunt’s to bring the hellions home,” Jeff said with a sweet smile. “But before we go, your mother and I need to speak to you boys.”

At that, Teddy jerked up. He didn’t let go of Billy’s waist, though, as he looked at Billy’s parents. “Mr. Kaplan, Mrs. Kaplan… I am so grateful, I will leave as soon as…”

“Hush, dear,” Rebecca said warmly, as she approached the sofa. Her hand reached Teddy’s forehead and she half-stroked, half-brushed his hair. Teddy smiled as Billy felt a sudden surge of love for his mom.

“That’s what we wanted to talk about,” Jeff said, stepping forward himself. His wife put a loving hand on his chest, and he put an arm around her shoulders. Billy smiled at the gesture.

“Billy told us that you have no living relatives,” Rebecca said tentatively, careful not to hurt the boy any further. “Now, mind you, we don’t want to force anything onto you, but…” she paused and sighed. Billy felt his heart skip several beats. He also felt Teddy slightly trembe in his arms. “We don’t, and as soon as you’re eighteen,” the woman continued “you will be able to choose what is best for yourself. But right now, if you want, Jeff and I were thinking that it would be our pleasure to have you with us.”

Billy was beaming. Teddy looked at the couple with wide, shimmering eyes. “We’re sure that there will be some legal stuff to take care of, which we will do once we’re all a little rested,” Jeff said, sitting next to his son. “For now, though, consider yourself our guest. Tomorrow we’ll fix the guest bedroom for you, and Billy here will help you make it your own with a few Pokémon posters or whatever you kids like nowadays. I really hope you will come to consider this your home, in time.”

Billy couldn’t keep it all in any longer. He let go of Teddy, turned to his father and hugged him, whispering “Thank you,” in his ear. Teddy sat motionless, incredulous.

“As for tonight,” Rebecca started, with a voice that exuded both motherly affection and practicality “we thought you could… sleep in Billy’s room.”

Teddy’s eyes widened even more. Billy, having let go of his father, jumped up to embrace his mother. Rebecca put a hand forward, making her son wait for his thankful hug. “This is a one-time thing, young men. Don’t make a habit of it. It’s only because the guest bedroom needs airing and,” she sighed. “And I guess we could all use a little affection and caring tonight.” She let Billy briefly hug her, then tightened her wool cardigan, as if a sudden shiver had passed over her.

“Your mother can’t wait to get the boys back from your aunt. Imagine being that desperate for affection,” Jeff said, getting up from the sofa and walking towards the front door to get his car keys.

Billy chuckled. So did Teddy, through teary eyes. He had met Billy’s bothers and both he and Billy knew that wanting those pests back was the act of a woman desperate to bring life back to what was, at that moment, a very grim house. They both couldn’t wait.

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

Hours later, as if in a dream where you wander from place to place without any rational reason, Teddy found himself sitting on his boyfriend’s bed. A stylized cartoonish Captain America was staring at him from the heavy bed cover. He looked up, admiring Billy’s model replicas of all the major spaceships from Star Wars, hanging from the ceiling, while a glance at Billy’s desk revealed several action figures and statues of Thor and the Scarlet Witch, all of different sizes and some of them sporting costumes that Teddy recognized from an era of the Avengers that went back to before either he or Billy were even born. Taped to the wall behind the desk, he saw some pencil drawings, mostly of Billy’s winged headgear.

Teddy never thought he would ever find someone who was as big a nerd as he was. Billy couldn’t quite name every single Doctor Who companion from the 1950s onward, not yet, so he felt his nerd crown was safe for now. But still, Billy was a threat.

A wonderful, wonderful threat. He started fantasizing about spending entire afternoons playing computer games and swapping comics with Billy in the comforting space of the room he was now in. Watching their favorite shows together, while holding hands or spooning on that bed, which was thankfully big enough for the both of them. Stealing kisses when they were alone, stealing more than kisses whenever possible. And maybe, one day, building a life of their own, together.

His mind was full of all those incredible thoughts. He forced himself to focus on them. He willed them into his mind, fearing that he would soon wander back into the darkness. He knew that there would come a time when he needed to go back there. To mourn, to cope. But not tonight.

Tonight, he felt like he was given a second chance at life. And he wanted to take it and make it his own.

“I don’t think my PJs will fit you.” Billy’s voice, coming from the walk-in closet, startled him out of his haze. “But maybe this old jersey… it will be a snug fit.”

Billy came into the room holding a faded football jersey and a pair of shorts. “Not that I will complain.”

“I could make myself a little smaller,” Teddy said, taking the clothes from Billy’s hands.

“Oh, right. Please don’t. I really don’t mind the bulging muscles.”

Teddy laughed. He knew what Billy was doing. He was playing right along his little fantasy of “this is just a sleepover with your boyfriend, it’s not like your mom is dead and not even your real mom.” He loved him even more for that.

Teddy took off what remained of his funeral suit. He had tossed the jacket over the desk chair as soon as he had entered Billy’s room, and the tie was dangling from his neck, completely loose. Billy had turned around to get the spare pillow from the closet and, when he turned back, he found Teddy wearing only the Bionic Woman boxers he had bought for him on eBay.

“Oh come on now,” Billy half-whined, admiring his boyfriend’s sculpted chest and incredible legs. Not to mention Lindsay Wagner’s cotton face hugging Teddy in all the right places. God, that was wrong. What was he thinking when he bought those boxers. “Put that shirt on before I decide to completely destroy my mother’s trust in the both of us.”

Teddy smiled, putting on the shorts first, then the jersey. It was a snug fit and he had to shrink just a little to even put his muscular arms through the sleeves, but not so much as to avoid the tight effect that Billy had hoped for. He loved teasing Billy like that.

Billy was flushed. He swallowed and playfully threw the pillow (now fitted with a fresh Lion King pillowcase) at Teddy, who caught it and held it close to his chest.

“Oh, can you feel the love tonight, baby,” Teddy commented in the most suave voice he was capable of.

“You are such a dork.” Billy went back to the closet, while Teddy jumped on the bed, resting his messy golden hair on his new pillow.

“You know,” Billy’s voice came from the closet “if you feel up to it, if you’re not too tired or anything, the brats have this junior league soccer game tomorrow, I don’t think mom had time to pull them out of it. It will most likely be a total bore, but it might do you good to get out and OH MY GOD NO.”

Teddy jumped up, scared half to death. Billy’s screaming had felt like a well-placed punch in his guts. His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenarios, which flashed in his mind one after the other in a matter of milliseconds. Something had fallen on Billy’s head and he was injured. He had slipped and fallen and had really hurt himself. The Skrulls were back for him. Kang the freaking Conqueror was hiding in Billy’s walk-in closet.

“Billy! B, what’s wrong?” he yelled, worried. The Kaplans still hadn’t come back from Billy’s aunt, what could he do now? The thought that both he and his boyfriend were superheroes never even crossed his mind. That night, he felt like a kid who was in desperate need for somebody to look out for him.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Billy’s apparently calm voice made Teddy calm, too. Still confused, but calm.

“It’s nothing but oh my God this can’t be happening.”

“B?”

“Okay, so, apparently,” Billy’s voice, still coming from the closet, had assumed that tone that Teddy had come to recognize as bitchy Billy. “Apparently…” Billy continued “I only have three pairs of PJs. And the one I wanted to wear tonight, the one I wanted you to see me in, a nice, simple, elegant light grey thing that my grandmother gave me for Hanukkah, well, it’s in the wash. Which leaves me with two unspeakable options.”

Teddy half-smiled, still puzzled. “Okay?”

“Yeah, not okay. Not really. But here goes nothing.” Billy came out of the closet and Teddy had to blink a few times to fully understand what he was seeing.

Billy, all messy dark curls and hot red cheeks, was wearing a pair of light blue PJs. The shirt was a little too tight and the pants, which, Teddy assumed, were supposed to come to his ankles, were a couple of inches short of reaching them. And the pattern. Oh, the pattern.

It was small cartoon cowboys.

And cowboy hats and little white clouds and bright green cacti. Teddy was suddenly reminded of Andy’s room in Toy Story, before the arrival of Buzz Lightyear.

“Oh my God,” Teddy cried, grinning like a maniac. “That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” He jumped from the bed, covering his smiling mouth with a hand. “You are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

Billy blushed furiously. “The thing is, I haven’t really grown that much since I was twelve so I still have these old things lying around and…”

Teddy shut him up with a kiss. He cupped Billy’s face and kissed him and kissed him, Billy standing on his toes, his thin arms embracing Teddy’s waist.

“I love you and I have to take a picture,” Teddy said, coming up for air.

Billy’s eyes became two enormous saucers. “You… wouldn’t dare…” he said slowly, stepping back from his boyfriend.

“Please please please I have to immortalize the unthinkable cuteness right before my eyes,” pleaded Teddy, already grabbing his phone.

“No way! No way!” Billy laughed.

“I promise I won’t show it to anyone! It’ll be just for me!” Teddy wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Would you really deny me this, tonight of all nights?” He looked at Billy with his best beaten puppy stare.

“Oh, that’s low,” Billy sighed. He opened his arms, defeated, and gave Teddy the sweetest of smiles as Teddy took as many pictures as possible. Yes, he was going to keep them for himself. Well, maybe one could find its way to Kate and Cassie. Maybe.

Of course Teddy knew that Billy could’ve just worn a T-shirt or something. He didn’t know if the adorable pajamas were chosen intentionally or not. But he did know that his boyfriend was the most incredible boy to ever walk (or, occasionally, fly) the earth and he had, once again, made him smile on one of the worst days of his life. He knew, right then and there, that anyone who could make him laugh on a day like that was someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

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

“Tired?” Billy asked, when the excitement over the PJs was over. They were lying on Billy’s bed, side by side. Teddy was staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Billy was staring at Teddy.

“Exhausted,” Teddy replied. He turned his head towards Billy, a faint smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you,” Teddy whispered. He had tried to avoid it, but he felt the darkness getting closer and closer. He reached a hand and stroked Billy’s cheek.

Billy closed his eyes, enjoying his boyfriend’s loving touch. He leaned closer to Teddy and rested his head on Teddy’s chest, listening to his heart, getting drunk on his scent. “Is this okay?” he asked.

Teddy snorted. “Are you kidding? This is perfection.”

Silence fell over them. The room was mostly dark, only an old Mickey Mouse lamp illuminating the desk with all its action figures. Teddy closed his eyes and listened to the soft hum of Billy’s breathing.

“B?” he asked, with a wavering voice. “Am I going to be alright?”

Billy frowned, but didn’t look up. “Give yourself some time, babe.”

“But I mean…” Teddy continued, slightly hesitant. “When we get older. If… when we get to be adults together. My life’s so fucked-up. How can I… what kind of… man could I be? What kind of… father could I be…”

Billy’s head jerked up at those words. “You’re going to the most amazing dad. You are selfless and caring and goofy and you can shape-shift into all sorts of funny animals! Are you kidding, our kids will love you.” Billy paused, realizing what he had just said. “Yes, I did say our kids because I’m not going anywhere, T. Oh, and I want a small army of brats and I hope each and every one of them is as impossible as my brothers so we don’t get lazy in our old age.”

“Oh, God,” Teddy chuckled. After a silent pause, he added “I hope you are right. I just want to be free from this… this fear of failing and… and falling into dark thoughts. Dark places.” He wiped a tear that had made its way across his cheek.

Billy had rested his head on Teddy’s chest again. “Don’t be afraid of falling, T. It’s natural. It’s human. Neither of us might exactly be human human, but you get my point. Don’t be afraid. Because, if you fall, I will pick you up. Always. I will always be there to pick you up and lift you up, just as I’m sure you will be there for me.” Billy felt Teddy’s arms tighten around his shoulders, and he burrowed his face into Teddy’s chest. “We can both fly, if we can’t lift each other up, who can?”

Teddy smiled.

There was a long pause, which Teddy interrupted just to whisper “Goodnight, my sweet cowboy.”

“Goodnight,” Billy replied, grinning. He paused for a couple of seconds, then added “Hey, can I sleep like this?” holding Teddy even tighter for emphasis.

“You have to sleep like that,” Teddy replied, then placed a delicate kiss on Billy’s curly head.

Silence fell into the room once again. Both boys were half-asleep, when Teddy spoke up again. “Hey, what was on the other pair of PJs that was so terrible you went with cartoon cowboys?”

Billy snorted and hid his face in Teddy’s chest even further.

“Smurfs.”

Teddy grinned.

He definitely had something to look forward to.

[sunshinee-sunflowerr]

When I saw this I was immediately triggered and that’s how I knew I had to share it. Other than the fact that it is important as fuck to share something like this. But the second part of that post almost aligns with what had happened to me with my ex Dan. I have issues with sexual dysfunction and tend to lose feeling down there and that leaves me feeling betrayed by my own body. I feel so worthless and pathetic already as it is when it happens because I’m sensitive and it is humiliating when I start to cry. I don’t even get to like fully enjoy something so intimate because I’m a very passionate person and I love all types of deep connection. And he ruined it. It had stopped being such a beautiful thing for me. The second I asked him to stop and that I had mentioned I wasn’t enjoying it, he became the person I didn’t think he could truly ever be. He laid down on me. Like I’m talking all of his weight was on me, and he whined about how good it felt to stay in me and finish. I felt nothing and everything all at the same time, I wasn’t being heard, I was just a body, and I didn’t matter anymore. This was someone who was stronger than me. This was someone who I loved and straight up disrespected me to the point where I myself are in a traumatic position, I had to literally match his thrusts just so he’d come faster because I knew that was the only safe way to get him off of me. And that was humiliating and violating. I had no other choice. And to this day this man still tries to say he didn’t rape me but SIR WHEN YOU DO SHIT LIKE THAT YOU ARE A FUCKING RAPIST. YOU IGNORED MY PLEAS AND MADE ME FEEL SO UNSAFE AND I FELT LIKE MY BODY WASN’T EVEN FUCKING MINE ANYMORE. YOU GAVE ME PTSD FOR ALL THE OTHER FUCKED UP TIMES THAT I HAD LET SLIDE BECAUSE I FELT COERCED INTO IT. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID AND I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. And what had haunted me every time I wanted to go somewhere, I had to take my car. It happened in my car. I had to drive myself after that with cum dripping down my legs. I had to see a flashback every time my mind drifted towards the back. I will never EVER let myself be in that position again. Dan broke me. I’m the one who pulled myself out and I’m still healing.

It was from 2016 and trauma tells no time, I’m lucky I don’t feel the weight of your body still pinning me down during intimate times. I saw you in the faces of whoever was on top of me. I would get panic attacks and cry. You fucking ruined me and my trust and I will ruin you if you ever dare try to come into my life again.

The Relationship Aspect:

Not many people know about the sleep fucking, or when you would take my thumb out of my mouth when I was asleep because I still had some hard time sleeping so I would suck my thumb sometimes and you would replace your it with your dick and then ejaculate down my throat and I'd wake up to such a horrible taste. My inner child does scream for she was only 15-17 and I let it slide because you had so much power over me and I did so much to make you happy even though it didn't make me happy myself. Let's not forget when I wasn't in the mood sometimes so you would turn around away from me with no sound nothing and straight up fell asleep because I said no or that I don't want to have sex with you. And then there were times where you would sexualize me, you would look up my skirt or you would look at my pants and tell me about my panty lines and basically scare me and make feel little. You were constantly pointing them out and laughing, conditioning me even to never wear comfy underwear, I have more thongs than any type of other underwear. And now I'm finally getting used to wearing normal underwear again just because I was felt like someone was doing the same shit that you did to me. I felt grimy. And let's not forget when you would steal my panties and you would bring them home and jerk off in them and cum in them and to top it all off you would bring them back to my house and throw them in my dirty laundry so they can be washed so you can repeat that cycle. And the worst part is that you probably took some before we broke up and I never got them back. Fuck you. How about all those times you never asked if you could cum in me but you still did even though I fucking hated it, and you’d get mad at me when your sheets were ruined because of you the mess you made in me and I still fucking hate it it's only such a rare occasion for me to ever let that happen during any intimate moment now. Also let's not forget your greediness for my photos. My naked photos that you kept to get off to even after we broke up and still demanded more and other shit when I was with someone else it was disgusting.

The Party:

Oh here’s a memory that’s gonna be fucking me soon, once late October arrives I’m going to be thinking about that night I decided to try and most past you. That fucking college party was the biggest gray area that was so painful and smoggy. It was grey because I was still figuring my shit out and mentally screwed up from the actions of you. I'll never forget, how are used to feel guilty and how are used to blame myself for all of this. And I got to a point where we had mutual friends and I just wanted to forget all about it and learn to forgive you. As soon as ready, Matt and I went to that party that Anthony was throwing and you were there, and you had no problem laughing off your drunk ass I front of me about rape jokes. If I hadn't been high and Matt being so drunk we would've left and I remember calling my mom in the hallway crying telling her about that little part of what happened that night. And then later that night you got so fucking drunk, made everybody your babysitter and I still fucking hate myself for the side you brought out even though you caused me so much harm. You brought out my fucking maternal side which I hated because like I said in that moment of time it wasn’t black or white for me, it was grey. It was so fucking gray. And I took care of you that night because you were so fucking drunk, I remember you asking me or saying something about how I hated you. And then later that night I ended up sandwiched between you and Matt, and you decided to touch me through my pants even when I was cuddled up to Matt and I thought maybe there would’ve been some change but in the end you were still assaulting me. I didn’t sleep at all that night, and it sent me backwards, I felt like all of the progress that I had made was gone it was dehumanizing and I threw out those sweatpants and they were brand fucking new and they were Calvin Klein my favorite designer which hurt even more because I used my money to get something I really wanted for comfort and you just stumble in cocked off of what 3 beers? And ruin even the smallest things that could’ve made me more comfortable? Heinous and out right disgustingly disrespectful.

Trauma talk aftermath:

I betrayed myself sleeping with you even after the rape, and you knew so much about me so I couldn't even fucking report it even though I had the proof of you admitting to what you did. But Im always scared because my reputation was at stake and it was so easily corrupted by your lies as it is. I had no choice. You could've easily ruined my life and I wasn't about to let you so I ruined mine but little did I know that you were already ruining mine. And you still haven't taken accountability for your actions and I'm still suffering the consequences of those horrible behaviors that you were still using to this day probably. And I can't even imagine how many other girls like me there must be now.

Here's to all the nightmares that circulate in my head at night still in that feeling of fear of having and experiencing that PTSD kick into hyper drive. And all the ones I've yet to have when I have new partners in my life, because I have nightmares of them doing the same thing that you did to me and it's traumatizing. Because even though I know they are not you for that split second I am terrified of them. And I saw another post about how when sexual assault survivors even get a whiff of the scent of their abuser they are in panic; and I honestly don't blame them. I was at school the other day, and in the air I smell whatever type of detergent was used to fill the air with your scent, I was in panic for a couple minutes looking around trying to figure it out where you were. It's so fucked up that you've had such lasting effects on me like why isn’t hating you and going through all of that trauma shit enough. And I'm so tired of the panic and anxiety attacks that you still bring into my life whether it is indirect or direct.

And looking back now after going off of that and emotional spiel about what you did and how I still feel towards these events today. I realize all the ways how I am not gonna be treated in the future. You saw the light inside of me, and when you stepped into my life that light dimmed within each day that passed that I saw who you were. And it took all of my power away; but I am taking all of that power back and you will never ever use it again and you will never have it in your possession because I know I will forever be a better person and not let you win. And I know that I wasn't a good girlfriend at the time as well but you were also I'm manipulative narcissistic asshole. And I blamed myself for all of the times that I was mad at you and thought I deserved it all. And I deserve none of that shit. It was you that didn’t deserve me and all the love I gave you. All of clothes I bought you, all of the stupid ass Pokémon cards i grabbed for you because I knew it was important to you to collect them, all of the silly $7 cards to go with each thing I gave you. All of the handwritten notes. Helping you match your clothes and fold your shit. Fuck you and for all you have taken from me and didn’t even fucking say sorry or be truly appreciative.

More Trauma Talk 2020-2021 edition:

Consent is so important to me, because it was stolen from me as a child, as a teenager, and as an adult. I want to take a moment to also talk about my second ex-boyfriend named Dan as well how ironic I never thought I'd say I love you Dan ever again. But the first night we hooked up, he was so patient with me which in all honestly is sad but it truly took my breath away with the time that he spent on me making sure I knew that I was safe because he knew that I have been raped. And every once in a while he asked me if I was OK and I thought that was the most amazing thing ever little did I know that that's actually what you're supposed to do and that it's not the bare minimum. And after all of that he still had one of those moments where he traumatized me and put me back into the place where you had put me days before Christmas… which is now a tainted holiday as well as Halloween for me. Thanks a lot.

Wow… fuck this is a lot for anyone let alone me to endure and/or read and I just want to say that felt so fucking good to finally write it all down and speak my truth and let others know that not every sexual assault or rape has to be violent (well it’s violence either way, but you know getting the shit beaten out of you stereotypical type) it can be sweet until it turns sour, it can be public, it can be sneaky, it can be with someone you gained the ability to trust who was so good in the beginning. It can be anyone and that’s the real scary part because I don’t know whose intentions are actually true until they read my stuff and reassure me about how they feel about me. It’s the only way and even then I’m still scared of wanting to be intimate with someone new. It’s another strong reason as to why I am practicing celibacy for a bit.

Finished on 9/20/2021

[lilyswrittenworks]

Opposite Attract| Guzma Love Story

II| Meeting Him

    She presented the Firium Z to the female trial worker allowing her access to the gates. Bethany walked inside Dividing Peak Tunnel, and when she neared the exit she encounters the odd-looking people from Seaward Cave, Phyco, and Soliera. The things they were discussing with her were all too confusing, except the part about the Z-crystals and learning all of the Z-moves, then they left. Her head was literally spinning after that and even Popplio was confused.

Bethany kept on walking exiting the tunnel and onto Route 8. Just as she was passing by an Aether Foundation trailer she abruptly stopped. Phyco and Soliera were there talking to a man with a long white lab coat and a familiar hairstyle. She has seen this hairstyle before but where?

There was a constant beeping sound coming from the man. Could he be typing something? Phyco and Soliera bid their farewells to the man and left. Right as they left the man turned around to face her and she instantly recognized him.

"You there!"

Bethany jumped from his voice which snapped her back to reality. He now stood in front of her, his left hand typing away at a screen on his right arm. The blond hair, a blue cowlick around his head, yellow eyes and glasses. This was none other than Colress.

Colress introduced himself and started discussing his research: "Bringing out the potential of Pokémon." Believing that the bond Pokémon share with their Trainers is what brings out their full potential. A smile graced her lips. Even after all these years, he hasn't changed one bit.

"And thus my attention is drawn to trainers like yourself..." he gestured his hand at her to where she held her beloved Popplio. "Trainers bound to their Pokémon through the power of the Z-Power ring!"

He hummed, placing his hand on his chin. "Now that I think of it, I never asked your name."

Bethany tilted her head to the side. "After all this time you still don't remember my name, do you?" she smiled, and then cooed out a nickname. "Cold-ress?"

His eyes grew as if his brain finally piecing together the missing pieces of the puzzle. "Can it be...? Bethany?!"

Relief washed over her. "For a second there I thought you forgot about me."

A large grin formed on his lips and laughed half-heartedly. "I can't believe it. Look at you, you've matured over the years!"

"You think? I feel like I haven't aged at all!" They exchanged a good laugh. "You haven't changed yourself - - well, except for the minor upgrades on your wardrobe." She observes him closely. "And you look a bit chubbier too."

Colress blinked in shock, he wasn't expecting this statement from her. "Wha- I have?"

Bethany was soon in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, much to his confusion. "I was only joking!"

She received a poker face from him. "You may have matured physically but your mind is still that of a child."

"Aww, you're so mean!" she acted all hurt by his comment.

His gaze softened, a smile soon forming. "It's good to see you again. After all, you were the one who changed me." A blush tinted her pale cheeks.

He chuckles. "Here, you should have this."

Colress handed over a red disk; it was a TM for the move Flame Charge. She stared at the disk then back to him, unsure of what to say. Eventually, she took it from his grasp, thanking him in return.

"No need to thank me. Considerate it as a gift from me." He held up his hand then waved it slightly. "You will need it to battle the totem Pokémon on the next trail... Lush Jungle, correct?"

"How did you-u...?" He pointed down at her island trial amulet that was hanging on her left belt loop from her faded black, frayed denim shorts.

"Oh..." she mentally facepalms herself. How could she forget?

"I should be on my way. I've kept you long enough." He announced and instantly changed the subject. He's quick. "Apparently, there is an uninhabited island for Pokémon called Poké Pelago here in Alola."

'Poké Pe-what-now?' she felt lost for a moment until it finally clicked. Remembering a man named Mohn mentioning her about Poké Pelago back when she was on Route 7.

"Alola is fascinating! I believe that I will stay in Alola for some time!" He exclaimed.

Bethany couldn't have been more joyful after hearing him say that. Alola sure is fascinating and who knows? Maybe will run into each other like in the past.

"Well then, Bethany. I hope you will excuse me. I've had quite the curious request made to me by a couple of oddly dressed strangers."

He offered his hand to her, she accepted, thinking it was just a regular handshake. Instead, Colress bows, kissing her hand. It only lasted for less than a second but it felt like forever before he took his leave. Bethany couldn't get her head straight after that and was a blushing mess.

******

Popplio barked cheerfully as they exited the Pokémon Center. Battling trainers along the way can be very unfortunate but at least she gets money as an award for her teams' effort. She crouched down to Popplio's eye level and handed her a blue patterned Poké bean. Popplio munched down on the bean in delight.

Mallow's trail was not too far ahead and there was a sign on the left that clearly said Lush Jungle on it, so it has to be here. Just the thought of doing the trial got her excited and she couldn't stop smiling like an idiot. She looked down at Popplio who in turn stared right back.

"Think you're up to the challenge?" Popplio nodded with a determined look on her face.

"Onwards!"

She only took a couple of steps forward when suddenly she heard a commotion off to the side. It sounded close too.

Bethany turned her head to the right: it was two Team Skull grunts cornering an oddly colored silverfish Pokémon. Just seeing the Pokémon being frightened out of its mind made her blood boil, this was unacceptable. In her anger, she marches down towards them and began to snap at them in her own foreign language.

" ねえ！貧しいポケモンだけを残す！/ Nē! Mazushī pokemon dake o nokosu! / Hey! Leave the poor Pokémon alone!"

The two male grunts stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her. Then they exchanged a look of confusion.

"Yo, what'd she say, homie?" Grunt A asked.

"How should I know?! I don't speak Hebrew..." Grunt B trails off while making odd and awkward motions to his partner.

Bethany huffed, walking past them while ignoring their empty threats. The odd colored Wimpod managed to run off from the Grunts and was now cowering inside a hole on the side of the rock, shaking uncontrollably. Her frown deepened, the poor thing was so scared. It broke her heart into a trillion pieces.

"Yo girl! We're talkin' to you. Yer death or somethin'?!" Grunt B stepped forward trying to make himself more intimidating but would soon regret in doing so.

She turned around to face the Grunts and she had the scariest look on her face that it made them freeze right on the spot. "Baka! Do you have any idea how scared the Pokémon is? ... Well?!"

Both grunts let out a high-pitched shriek, like little girls, hugging each other for comfort. Never had they seen the girl like this, she was livid and it scared them witless. As the saying goes, 'Watch out for the quiet ones' they said, 'It'll be fine' they said.

Neither one of the male Grunts gave an answer. She returned her attention back to the Wimpod. It was still hiding in its hole. Her anger instantly disappeared. She outstretched both her hands and began to talk to the Wimpod in a soothing tone.

"Hey, it's okay. Those mean people won't hurt you anymore." She slowly crouched down, not breaking eye contact with the Pokémon. "Can you come out, please? There's no reason to be afraid."

Slowly but surely, the Wimpod cautiously peeked its head out of its hiding place. A closer look at the Pokémon she noticed right away at how different it looked than from its original counterpart. Its main body wasn't purple like what her Pokédex entry looked like and was replaced by red, and the white plating across its back was much lighter in color. The three plates on its back that overlap and each of its single black triangles were gray. The long spoke on each side of its head that curved backward we're red, along with its two short extensions which looked like eyelashes, two flat antennae, and its long, prickly tail. The only place that didn't change was its large yellow eyes.

Wimpods eyes stared up at her, uncertainty written on its face.

She smiled warmly. "It's okay. I won't let them hurt you, little guy."

Wimpos eyes widen, giving her a look of adoration, and in one swift movement, Wimpod was now in her arms. Bethany laughed softly, caressing its head gently.

Grunt A began to sniff loudly with a pool of tears streaming down his cheeks. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever seen in my life, yo!" he said. "It hit me right in the feels man."

However, the Grunt beside him was not having any of it. He had his arms folded on his chest with an impatient look in his eyes.

Grunt B let out an audible groan. "Enough with this, yo! We came here to get that Wimpod, not have a tea party with it!" he threw his arms in the air, obviously, he was annoyed by this whole situation.

"Chill out, bro!" Grunt A tried to calm down his friend but failed miserably.

"Chill out?! I didn't come all this way to come back empty handed, nuh-uh!"

The Grunt pulled out a Great ball, threw it in the air, revealing his Golbat. "I'm done waiting. Golbat, use Swift!"

Bethany managed to jump out of the way, but Golbats attack managed to hit her right leg. She cried out in pain as she landed on her side still clutching Wimpod in her arms. The Grunt chuckled, praising his Pokémon before approaching her. She tried to get up but ended up tumbling right down. Her right ankle had a deep cut on her skin, it was a bloody mess, she whimpered.

"You have somethin' we want, girl. Hand over that Wimpod." Grunt B demanded.

Bethany held the Wimpod closer to her body and refused to hand over Wimpod to him.

Out of nowhere, Popplio ran up to her and faces the Grunt, growling at him, a warning sign to stay away from its Trainer. The Grunt only laughed at the tiny seal. Bethany sat up, wincing at the pain in her ankle. Her eyes landed on Popplio who was standing in front of her protectively.

"Popplio..."

"I'll beat ya' senseless for this!" Grunt B declared, his Golbat preparing itself for his Trainers word.

Bethany turned her head away, pulling Wimpod close to her; it let out a small whimper. Popplio prepared to protect her Trainer, glaring at the Golbat. The Grunt didn't even get to finish his sentence when a low voice interrupted him, making him freeze on the spot.

"Hurtin' an injured girl, huh? That's just low."

Both Grunts turned around to face the man. Grunt A was relieved to see him, although Grunt B looked absolutely terrified and all the color from his face drained.

A tall man with tousled white hair and a black undercut. He had grey eyes, thick black eyebrows and on top of his head, he had a pair of sunglasses with a golden frame, with one of the frames being bent and a yellow Team Skull chain. He wore a black jacket with a zigzag pattern on both sides of his jackets; with a Team Skull logo on the back and underneath he wears a white shirt. He had black pants with two white X's under his knees, a pair of white shoes, purple tattoos of the Team Skull logo, a golden watch on his left wrist and on his right he had black and white bracelets.

His grey eyes glared down at Grunt B, who was secretly trembling in place, so was his Golbat.

"B-boss..." Grunt B murmured, gulping hard. The look his leader gave him is all too familiar, it was anger.

The man approached the Grunts, eyeing them both. "You guys are done for the day, ya got that?" both Grunts nodded quickly.

He grinned. "Good. Now... SCRAM!" he watched in amusement as they bolted out of the area until they were nowhere in sight.

Popplio nudged her Trainers side. Bethany lifted her head, staring down at a concern looking Popplio before her.

She smiled. "I'm fine, Popplio. It's just a- Ah!"

Bethany winced, gritting her teeth rather tightly as she stared down at the wound. Her ankle didn't look all too pleasant and she could feel her skin pulsating. Popplio comforted her by nuzzling its nose on her thigh gently.

The shiny Wimpod shifted in her arms, its eyes landing on to the man with white hair. Wimpod gave him a pleading look with tears threatening to fall. The man let out a deep sigh as he approached the girl, crouching down in front of her. He was never good with words, to begin with, it made him feel uncomfortable. Yet, something inside him told him to give it a shot.

"Hey, girl. You doin' ok?"

She raised her head and was now staring at the man. The first thing that crossed her mind was how intimidating he looked and was that... purple eyeshadow he wore? She squeezed Wimpod protectively, a single sweatdrop traveled down her cheek.

"Yeah... I'm okay..." she trails off.

Bethany couldn't help but be mesmerized by his facial features, his strong jawline, a hawk nose, especially his eyes which resembled that of a moonstone. Getting a closer look at him she realized how attractive he looked.

"You sure don' look like it," he said, glancing down at her bloody ankle. She chuckled softly, a blush tinting her cheeks. "I-I'm fine, really!" However, he didn't buy her lame excuse.

Without any warning, he swooped her up in his arms, bridal style, with the shiny Wimpod still in her arms. She yelped softly in surprise but said nothing as he began to walk away. Popplio followed right behind the man as he took her to a nearby Pokémon Center.

Many people inside gave the man cautious glances, that's when their eyes landed on Bethany. Their cautious looks turned to that of worry. Nurse Joy rushed over to them and told him to follow her down a hall where she would treat the girls' wounds.

Normally he would've left after dropping her off, but remained on the girls' side until he was sure that she was going to be all right. He was sitting on a chair, slouched forward with both arms on his knees, watching quietly as Nurse Joy attended to her wounds.

She was on an operating table watching as Nurse Joy disinfected the wound with her Blissey at her side. Wincing silently while Nurse Joy applied Vaseline on the wound then wrapped it neatly with a roller bandage. Wimpod snuggled close to her in her arms in a comforting way. A smile graced her lips and patted the silverfish gently.

Bethany asked Nurse Joy a favor to scan Wimpod for any injuries to which she happily agreed. Wimpod, however, was hesitant to be left alone. Bethany reassured the Pokémon that it will be over quickly. She told Wimpod that she will be right outside the hallway and watch through the glass window beside them. Wimpod nodded slowly, receiving a gentle pat on top of its head before she limped out of the room with the man.

The scan was pretty fast and thankfully Wimpod turned out to be just fine. Bethany thanked Nurse Joy and followed the man out the Pokémon Center. She couldn't help but notice the weird looks people were giving them, but she ignored them, not giving it much thought.

Bethany wasn't looking where she was going and bumped into the man. He turned around and glared down at her. "Watch it!"

She stumbled back and bowed her head. "I-I'm sorry! I should have been more careful..." she trails off, staring down at the ground. Her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

His anger quickly washed away and was replaced with guilt.

Wimpod approached her, tugging her shoe gently. She stares down at the Pokémon with a smile on her lips, and then, crouches down to its level. The moment she crouched, Wimpod threw itself on her. Bethany hugs Wimpod close receiving a happy 'chitter' from it.

"The little guy sure loves ya." He said, resting his hands on his hips.

Bethany hummed. "Yeah... I was planning on releasing it back but I'm afraid it won't leave my side!"

He chuckled. "You know... you should keep the little guy. I heard Wimpod gets stronger when it evolves."

Bethany stood up and tilted her head, a questionable smile rose on her lips. "Really? Then I may have to reconsider from my previous statement."

He simply nodded and began to walk away from her.

"W-wait! Please..." she calls out to him making him stop in his tracks.

"Th-thank you..." she stammered.

He looked over his shoulder and stared at her one more time before resuming his walk.

Bethany suddenly felt the Butterfrees' tingle down her stomach. Her thoughts were cut off by Popplio barking at her and pushing her towards Lush Jungle. As she walked towards the trial site there was only one thing running through her mind.

Who was that man?

(2,984 Words)

[promisedangel]

The Dark Spiral

This is a paid commission for an irl friend of mine who asked me to take as many moments from his fight with depression as possible and weave it into a small tale with a special, not real so don’t worry, end. I admit this is a lot more fragmented than my usual work, but vignettes are really all I could dig up.

Enjoy

It started off with just a question from myself, “James… are you okay?” I looked at my friend across the table, his head facedown and nested in his arms. He mixed a whine and a moan, “I’m fine.” I knew better. We knew better. Behind me, I felt her materialize. My beloved creation. My genie, Clara. Only I could see her currently. She whispered in my ear, her long silver hair draped past, “It’s the same as you.” She was right. The disinterest in the Pokémon TCG league around him, of which he was an unofficial gym leader, the lack of focus... This was depression. The same kind I suffered.

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The ongoing weeks showed many more signs. Lack of interest, appetite, and aloofness for anything other than myself or Clara. He ended up quitting his gym leader position and began to go to league less often. He at first said he didn’t have money for the bus, but then we worried after three straight weeks of not going. Thankfully, his mother saw what was happening. She signed him up for therapy. He confided in me in person, “Hey… could you not tell anyone yet that I’m going to therapy? I just…” He sighed, “I just don’t want anyone else to know yet.” I frowned, “Okay…” He smiled, “My first appointment is the 30th. Can… you be there for support?” I grimace, “I dunno if they’ll let me in… I’m not family…” “I’m sure we can think of something.” “…I’ll be there.” He gave a look of relief, “Thanks, Amy.” The day comes, and the homework I have is mountainous. I try to focus on it, try to get some of it done. After a few hours, I feel confident enough to take a break. I notice the time. I remember and panic. I begin to cry, “No…” I want to confide myself with someone, but I remember my promise. I quickly pull out my phone and text James in a panic, “I’m so sorry I was wrapped up in my homework that I totally forgot! T.T you’re probably in session right now or about to be. Gods, this is horrible of me.” I get a text back from James, “We’re here…” I continue with tears streaming down my face, “I don’t know if I could do anything there, I would be so late, gods the one time I don’t set an alarm is always the most important things!” I pause, I can feel Clara try to physically console me, but it goes right through my back. Forever a ghost on my plane of existence. She silently resigns herself to watch as I text James again while in sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…” Through my sobs, I hear Clara, “You… can still go…” I sniffle and close in on myself, “But-“ Clara floats in front of me from above, her face curious, but playful, “You can be there when he gets out. That’s something. You pushed for him to go to therapy. Sure, his mom noticed, but you were the one poking him about it. You did all this to help him, right?” I sigh and wipe my tears, “Yeah.” “So, don’t beat yourself up about it so much.” She smiled. I ended up going after all.  I gave James a hug after he got out and congratulated him on this first big step. Yet, there were still so many bumps along the way.

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He began to be more aloof at league, often not playing any games or even conversing with our friends. I texted him as I arrived at league, “U coming today?” He responded simply, “No….” “Why?” I could only imagine the sigh, “No money for the bus is the main reason. Also just meh…” Thinking he was done, I responded, “K.” He wasn’t finished, “I’m just losing interest in coming to league now. Seems like a waste of money every week. Anyway, don’t worry about me, I’m not that important anymore. Have fun at league.” I frown, “U r important.” “Doesn’t seem like it…” I feel at the loss of how to respond, so I end up not doing so. I find time to enjoy the TCG league, but he texted me later, “Well, once again, I make a mistake in life… should have came to league instead of staying home… or just stayed in my room…” I roll my eyes, “See? Isolation makes things worse.” “No… I shouldn’t have gone and played basketball… would have been safer to stay at home honestly…” I panicked, even Clara was now focused on the text, “Oh shit, what happened?!” “I got hit in the face not once… but twice.” I lightly hit my head on the table around me and groan. I whisper to Clara and myself, “Really?!” Clara sighed and pouted, “Why did your mind jump to a broken limb?” “Because that’s how my mind works.” She shrugged as I continue the text conversation, “Oh…” He explained the incident, “Once while on defense, got popped hard on the chin. Surprised I’m still standing to be honest… the other I didn’t see someone pass the ball back to me, didn’t expect it and well… yeah.” “It happens.” “If I stayed home, wouldn’t have happened. I’m back in the safety of my home though now.” “Did you get some ice on it?” “No… I don’t think it’s hurting that bad… yet… who knows…” I let it go, tempted to respond again, but knew it wasn’t worth it. But these sorts of put-downs continued from him. The sense of uselessness and loss of agency still remained. Therapy was only once a month at best. All the while, he locked himself in his home, often not going to league or even attempting to find something to do.

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He found some comfort in talking to Clara. It was an interesting experience to have the genie either whisper in my ear or possess my body to talk/text directly. One day, I allowed her to occasionally control my hands from a distance as James texted his almost trademarked greeting via text, “Mew…” “Hi.” “What’s up, Clara?” My hands began to move by themselves, even as the genie was far away. Clara typed out, “The sky? But I’m also kinda high up atm. Flying is great when you don’t have to worry about planes!” “At least you’re having more fun than the sack of flesh I am.” “I’m sure you’re having fun! Amy’s being boring and surfing the web while using the tv.” “I’m going grocery shopping with my mom and uncle…” I could feel Clara’s tinges of disappointment, “Well, it’s doing something.” He texted hints he would say this in mumbles, “Still wish I was in an eternal sleep…” Clara texted back immediately, “No.” “Why?” I felt her pained tone, her voice began to echo in my mind. I was now focused on the conversation, “It’s horrible.” “Can’t be that horrible.” Clara immediately jumped into my body. She spoke with my own voice, “Sorry, Amy. He keeps asking… he has to know…” I sighed, able to speak myself, “Go ahead.” Clara nodded before she texted him, her eyes lit crimson like fire. Her inner voice rang darkly yet sensual, as though it was someone else’s voice, “What you are wishing for will not help. In fact, it would only compound your problems. Putting your soul in an eternal sleep will only cause you to live your life over and over again while you sleep. You would never escape the torment.” There was a pause, which gave Clara a chance to calm down. The fire died down, but she continued, “Anyway, if you put your soul to sleep it will merely repeat not just your current life, but you could possibly delve into worse lives.” “Okay… sorry if I offended you, Clara… seems like I put both of you through a living nightmare with all my problems.” The fire inside Clara rekindled briefly. Her tone turned cruel as she gave a condescending laugh, “Your problems are a living nightmare? Do you remember what kind of character development you helped Amy form for me?!” I push Clara out of the conversation, unconsciously texting James as well, “What is wrong with you?!” Clara huffed as her eyes slowly fade away from crimson to their normal blue. I spoke to her only, “Stay there, I’m going to examine you after this.” I turn back to the text to see he has responded, “She’s right, though. Besides, you two have been taking care of me for almost a year now. I probably owe you so much.” I sigh, “You don’t owe us anything.” Clara chimed in once more, now calmer, “Just look for happiness, that would be more than enough.” “Well… you both make me happy… and well... video games.” I start to smile again, “See? Talking to people always feels good!” “I suppose it’s working for now…” Clara quickly took the texting power into her hands and wrote, “It always does. Humans are social creatures, and yes there are introverts, but there is a difference between introversion and self-imposed isolation.” I shiver slightly, I text and speak, “You sound like a psych ward.” James texted back, “Amazed they haven’t sent me there yet.” I grimace, “Those are for panic attacks and extreme cases. Your condition is not in that league. Granted, if it continues downward, it will.” “Yeah, you’re right.”

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James’s depression continued. I began to think of ways to get him out of his house all of the time. I started driving him to league and encouraged him to seek out new activities. We texted each other one night, he texted, “Tomorrow marks 2 weeks… one week from my next appointment…” I text back, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” “Doubt it… still haven’t done the homework she wanted me to do… doubt it’ll ever get done… and I just don’t know anymore about this whole thing.” I remember my trepidation to my own therapist and decide to give some advice, “It always sucks at first, but you will progress with time. Since you have a couple appointments a month technically, give it a couple months. And if it’s not helping maybe another therapist will be able to help.” “I don’t have a couple months though to wait… by then I’ll be like… 20 feet under and my life in worse shape. Why can’t we just agree that there’s a problem with me and I’m a hopeless case?” I groan and rub my temples. We’ve had this song and dance before. I growl lightly as I text, “You’re not a hopeless case. That’s how I felt at first. And I swear to god if you are seriously contemplating suicide I will never forgive you. I will reach into whatever afterlife you go to and I will slap you so hard, you will have a bruise in your next life.” “I doubt I could do something like that. I’d just hide in a dark hole for the rest of my life... All I know is that my future is dim and my options are very slim.” “Then look for new options, seek them out. You could search for a part-time job until you figure something out.” “But this whole thing was to figure out if I could hold down a job…” “It’ll get you out of the house, and give you some money. Look. There are some positions available at my work. Can you put in one application?” “I don’t know how.” “I’d obviously help you…” “Oh.” I could hear the deep sigh, “Fine... Only because you keep bugging me about it…” He applied, and I helped him along the way. He ended up getting a job in the department next to mine. I felt good that I could keep an eye on him. He seemed to do well. It was only a little over a week after he started that he asked me to take him home. Everything was okay at first, but he suddenly bent over and began to sob. I speak, “Whoa?! What’s wrong?!” He sobs, “I’m so useless!” “Wait, what happened?!” “Why does everyone think I’m good at my job when I’m shit?” I raise a brow, “But, you’re doing well! Your boss—heck, my boss likes you!” “But I’m barely doing anything!” I begin to sound upset, “You’re new! You’ve only been here just a week. They all know the struggle and can help you!” He just continued to cry. I sigh, “Just… let it out…” At safe spots, I occasionally rubbed his back during the drive to help calm him down.

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Everything was getting worse. He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t eat. I sent Clara to console him, as some nights he would cry himself to sleep. Though he could not touch her, they could see and talk to her. He sighed, laying at the edge of his bed, “I don’t know what to do anymore…” Clara crooked her head, confused, “Don’t you have to sleep for work tomorrow?” James covered his face and curled slightly, “I don’t want to go to work.” “But, you have to, right? So you can get money, right?” “I don’t… want to suffer through this life anymore.” Clara floated above him with a pout, “But you don’t suffer.” “Yes, I do.” “Maybe just your mind…” James was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Chara gave a curious look, “What’cha thinking about?” “You… can grant wishes… right?” “Well I am a genie!” “Then... can you affect my soul?” Clara hesitated, “…Yes.” His eyes gained confidence. He sat up and spoke clearly, “I want you to transform me into a character in your world.” Clara looked upset, “Why? Why would you want to just give up your life? It’ll be harder in my world-“ He nearly yelled, “I don’t care!” Clara jumped back slightly. He calmed down and began to sob, “I just… can’t take it anymore.” Clara sighed, “What about Amy?” He groaned, “Shit, she’ll never forgive me-“ He perked up, “Wait! You could clone my soul!” Clara looked unsure, “I guess… I could split your soul in half… have one half keep the memories… then I could do it. But, you’d lose yourself…” James smiled, “Sounds perfect. Clara. I wish for you to do all that.” Clara sighed. Magic began to dance around her and James until it focused on him. He felt a sharp pain in his chest before he felt his soul dragged from his body, which fell on the bed, unconscious. In her hands, Clara split the soul in two, keeping the memories in one. She shoved that half back into James’s body. It breathed heavily but remained unconscious. Clara looked at the soul in her hand and frowned. It looked familiar. A portal opened next to her and she smiled, “I guess this is really the first time we met. See you later, Chingu.” She tossed the soul into the portal before it closed and she immediately fainted.

[rinassance]

THE MATH CLUB||bts [kim taehyung] by trbltae

CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II

It was the next morning, my room was dimly lit. The curtains were letting in some light from the streets outside. I was silently snoozing on my pillow waiting for my alarm clock to let me know it was time to get up for school. Tuesdays were the worst days for me. They seemed to drag on forever and never end. School is already bad as it is, but when it came to Tuesdays they felt never ending.

The only reason I go to school is because I never want to disappoint my parents. I never took interest in any subjects at school but math comes the easiest to me. Even though I fucking hate it I always manage to get a high grade. The dropouts in my class always talk about how I’m a ‘nerd’ because I always do good but at least I’m getting shit done. Unlike them who just slack off and expect their diploma to fall magically into their hands.

A loud knock on my door suddenly startled me, which caused me to jump out of bed. I grabbed a shoe that was next to my bed as a weapon.

‘I’ll just throw it at them then make a run for it.’ I said in my head while nodding to myself. I had nothing else so I thought I could just beam it then bounce. I had no more time to think of other ways to try to keep them out. As the person behind the door was coming in my alarm clock suddenly started blasting causing me to yell a high pitched scream. By this time the intruder had opened the door and got scared by my screaming so they began started to scream too. I still had the shoe in my hand so without realizing who it was, I threw it straight at their face.

“OW, WHAT THE FUCK” I looked up and saw who it was clearly.

“Oh wow, its just you,” I said, sighing in relief while clutching my heart. “You almost made me hurt you”

“ALMOST? YOU REALLY JUST THREW A SHOE AT MY FACE AND YOU’RE SAYING ALMOST” exclaimed the person in front of me who was my friend, Yoongi.

“Okay, but did you die though?” I said while turning off my alarm clock, earning a death stare from him. Yoongi never came into my room, usually he would always wait for me downstairs or call me when he was on his way. I’ve known him since we were little because we were neighbors. He moved into the neighborhood and my mom thought it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves to them. I was only 9 at the time and I acted the way any kid my age would.

I thought all boys had cooties so when I found out our new neighbor’s had a son I immediately didn’t like him. When my mom and dad forced me to go with them to their house I kept a mean face on the whole time.

FLASHBACK “Boys, come down and meet our new neighbors!” the lady standing in front of me called out for her son to come down from his room.

“I’m sure you’ll both get along well” the lady was now looking down at me, giving me a big toothy smile. Two boys came trailing down the stairs. One was older than the other. The younger one looked to be around my age. I gave him a dirty look. 'Ew he looks like he has cooties’ I thought to myself. I realized that the young boy was not standing in front of me with his older brother behind him. We both were just standing still, giving each other dirty looks while looking at each other up and down.

“Yoongi why don’t you introduce yourself?” his mother tried to encourage him to speak up. The boy standing in front of me started to give me a smirk.

“Well, um this is Min Yoongi” his mother spoke up again, awkwardly. We just kept staring at each other when my mother spoke up this time.

“Taeyeon introduce yourself, don’t be rude” This time my mom tried to encourage me. I decided to finally speak up.

“I don’t wanna talk to someone who has cooties” I said while crossing my arms and smirking back at the boy.

My parents started cracking up at what I said as well as the boy’s parents and his older brother. The boy’s smirk faded away as he looked into my eyes, this time with his mouth wide open at what I just finished saying as if it was the diss of the century.

“I don’t have cooties, take that back!” the boy, Yoongi, said while pointing at me with his index finger.

“I’m not taking back anything because you do have cooties.” I said while raising my chin up high and keeping my arms crossed.

“I don’t have cooties I just have swag, so take it back.” Yoongi said, this time trying to act cool to prove he had 'swag’. Instead he just sounded cringy which caused me to laugh.

“You do have cooties,” I laughed in his face. “And you don’t have swag either” I laughed even harder, showing my smile that was missing one of my front teeth.

“Nuh uh, I do have swag and I can prove it” This time he said, confidently. “Oh yeah? then prove it” he motioned for me to follow him, then proceeded to take me to his room where he showed me all of his music cds and his pokémon cards. END OF FLASHBACK

I remember thinking he was actually cool and was going to take back what I said. I never did though, cause I was a little stubborn. Instead I just started hanging out with him and we ended up becoming friends. I was smiling to myself as I was remembering how we acted when we first met.

“Why are you smiling by yourself like an idiot?,” Yoongi asked looking at me as if I was crazy. “Are you really gonna ignore the fact that you threw your shoe at me”

“Oh my god, you’re still on that?” I said rolling my eyes, “You’re such a drama queen” I said while walking over to my closet to get my clothes ready for school today.

“I got my ass up from my good ass nap, comfy ass bed to wake you up and tell you something, and this is how I get treated? Next time I’ll just stay sleeping in then.” He said with an attitude, which caused me to laugh. Sometimes I never took him serious when he tried to sound mean. As I was about to walk into the bathroom to finally get ready for school Yoongi stopped me.

“Hold on, what part of 'to tell you something’ do you not get?,” he said again in a sassy tone. “The reason I came into your room was to tell you that I brought my friends over. Eunwoo said she wasn’t coming to school today because she wasn’t feeling well. I thought it would be a good time to introduce you to them since we were all going to school together.” he said finally finishing his speech. I always hung out with my friend Eunwoo. I met her in school when I didn’t know anyone. She was also a close friend of mine. Yoongi had always wanted to introduce me to his friends but I never had time.

Or more like I’m just not good at socializing. Yoongi had another group of friends in school that I never met. He knew I had a hard time getting along with people. Yoongi and I started to not have classes together which ended in us having to make new friends. We were still close though, just not during school. He would always tell me how I would get along with his friends and we could all be one big group of happy people. He was corny like that sometimes, it made me wanna roll my eyes all the way to the back of my head.

“Okay fine whatever, just don’t let them eat my food cause then i’ll really have a problem with them.” I said ending my sentence with a glare.

“Chill out, they wont eat your food. Just hurry up before we’re late for school” after he said that, a noise was heard from downstairs. It sounded like someone was rummaging through the fridge.

“YO LOOK I FOUND POPTARTS” said a deep voice downstairs. His eyes widened as I narrowed my eyes at him reaching for another shoe to throw at him.

“GUYS PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I GET ASSAULTED TWICE” yelled Yoongi running down the stairs as fast as he can. I put my shoe down sighing, They already seem annoying, I thought in my head as I walked into the bathroom to get ready. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After I finished getting ready I slowly opened the door of my bedroom peeking to check if another intruder had gotten in. After seeing everything was all clear I put on my uniform and my shoes and was doing my hair. After straightening my hair, because I was too lazy to do anything else, I started doing my makeup. I had to keep it natural because of my school rules so I just used a lip tint and mascara. When I finally finished taking one last look in the mirror I got a text from Yoongi.

I laughed at his name in my phone. He was always obsessed with kumamon so I just started calling him kuma-min and it stuck to me ever since. I finally grabbed my jacket, my wallet and my book bag and started heading down the stairs. A loud ruckus was heard throughout my kitchen. It felt kind of weird because I was always used to just silence. I could see Yoongi trying to tell the pack of boys to shut up and calm down. As I finally reach the end of the stairs, my eyes widened as I looked at some of the familiar faces.

“Oh look its that girl from our school guys” said the light brown haired boy.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

[gothchic6]

Silver’s Skater Girl Chapter 11: Nightmares and Apologies

Disclaimer: gothchic6 doesn't own Pokémon…

Chapter Eleven: Nightmares and Apologies

After JP leaves, JC looks to Silver and I with an expression that says, 'This has changed things quite a bit, hasn't it?'

I silently agree with her. I can't believe I just spilled my guts out to these people, especially Silver. He, of all people, didn't need to know my business or my life story. I can't believe I let myself become that vulnerable, that open. Before I started this entire journey, I did nothing but seal myself away in a protective shell in order to survive. Or, at least, keep my sanity intact. I haven't felt such a close connection with anyone since my parents were alive. It feels strange, and I'm not sure if I like it or not.

JC sighs, and takes a look at her watch.

"It's 1:00 in the morning. I'm exhausted, and I bet you two are even more tired than I am. I'm having Chansey take over for the night, so I can get some sleep. You two. Get to bed. Calypso, your old room is open. Silver, you know where your room is. Oh, and, Calypso? I finally found that damn incubator for your Egg. While we were talking in my quarters, I took the Egg out of your bag, put it inside the incubator, and put the entire thing back inside your bag. So, you're all set for Egg hatching!" JC says tiredly, but perks up at the end at the mention of the Pokémon Egg.

I reach into my bag, where I do indeed find the incubated Egg. I smile, the prospect of a baby Pokémon causing a warm feeling to rise up in me.

"Thanks!" I say gratefully.

She just smiles warmly back at me, before breaking out in a full grin.

"Shoo, you two", she commands playfully, "Go get some sleep. Arceus knows you need it."

Silver promptly walks to his room without a word to JC or I. I wait to hear Silver's door open and close before pulling JC behind the counter in the lobby. Not daring to make eye contact with her, I murmur softly to her,

"Listen, I can't thank you enough for what you did for me tonight. Even though you didn't know the full circumstances of my situation, you still decided to help me…"

JC's rose eyes widen slightly at my soft and humble tone. Breaking out into a warm smile, she shakes her head slowly, and replies,

"It's nothing. You've done just as much for me. It was the least that I could do."

I tut in disbelief before I gently grab her by her shoulders to make her stare me in the eyes. She seems startled at this sudden contact, but does nothing to try to escape my hold on her. I groan, out of both exhaustion and slight irritation.

"You don't get it, do you," I start in a much steadier voice than before, "You really don't understand how much this means to me. It is because of you that I'm standing here instead of inside a prison cell, at this very moment. In those few minutes that JP first came around here, you held my fate in your hands. You were the decision as to whether I was arrested, or I stayed free. And you made the choice to allow me my freedom. The one thing I've always wanted, longed for, even. Without you, I'd be surrounded by cold steel. I just want you to realize that, and realize that if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call me. As cheesy as it sounds, I am forever in debt to you."

Throughout the whole appreciation speech, JC's face has steadily gone from pale ivory to the color of a cherry. She goes to answer me, but for a few seconds, she can't utter anything without stuttering.

She finally gets a grip on herself, and states, still somewhat stammering,

"I g-guess I never thought about it that way. Well, I mean, I knew once I saw the wanted poster, but not from that perspective. Umm, you're welcome. Yeah, if I ever need anything, I'll tell you."

I nod, relieved that she finally gets what I'm saying.

JC grins brightly, and before I know what's happening, she's swiftly turned my body around, and is in the process of pushing me towards the hallway to the inn rooms.

"Now, shoo," she declares again playfully, though there's more force to it this time, "It's 1:10, and you need to get some sleep, because I'm waking both you and Silver at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow."

My eyes widen in horror, and I rotate in place to face her. "Dawn? But… dawn is at like, 7 or 8! You're insane!"

She puts her hands on her hips, and glares at me, with what I can guess is almost a motherly glower.

"Hey, JP isn't the only officer who comes into this Pokémon Center, you know. Actually, now that JP won't be harassing me anymore—hopefully—Jenny Anne will probably be making more stops here more often. Police officers always check in on me every day at 9 in the morning, so you two need to be out of here by, at the latest, 8:30. So, I suggest you skedaddle off to bed, Sassy Miss!"

"Well, I can't argue with that logic." I chuckle, and wave to her before walking down the hall to my room. I enter the inn room, and as I commence my bedtime rituals, I smile at the fact that not only I am free, but also I have a friend to share that freedom with.

I gasp for air as I suddenly skyrocket into a sitting position on the bed. Pulling my knees into my chest tightly, I breathe heavily and deeply, the night terror having robbed me of breath for what was probably only a second or two, but felt like an hour. Vivid images of the nightmare float in my mind like lily pads floating in a pond.

This isn't the first time I've had night terrors, and it probably won't be the last. And because of that, I have a journal that's dedicated to writing down every single detail of every single dream that I can remember. Actually, I have about five journals worth of dreams and memories already written down starting from age 12 and on. I've recently just started on my sixth.

It takes a few minutes for me to calm down, but when I'm finally able to think clearly again, I hastily scramble out of bed, and grab my gigantic backpack, so I can write the nightmare down before I forget it. My journals have a special pocket reserved just for them in the front, where they're the most accessible. I almost rip the zipper off trying to open the pocket, but luckily, it stays intact. Pulling out my most recent journal, I begin to write…

I wake up in a disturbingly familiar place. I'm lying on carpet of coarse navy blue fibers. Lavender walls of plaster surround me, and that's when I take a hard, long stare at my location. The lack of windows promotes suffocation. A gigantic, and obviously new plasma screen television hangs over the fireplace, and somehow, I can feel that it is forbidden to even touch it. A couch and a few armchairs of all shades of brown lounge lazily in the room. While they may look fluffy, and perhaps cozy to most, I know they are just waiting to suck me in like quicksand. The only thing in the room that gives me any sort of comfort is the packed bookshelf in the corner. I go to pull a book off the shelf, when I suddenly hear a sound that makes my blood run cold.

Any kind of security I had before is quickly shattered into itty-bitty little pieces as I hear the noise coming from a place outside of this room.

Sobbing.

Not soft, gentle weeping, but horrible, heart-wrenching sobbing, full of despair and grief. And it scares me more than anything else in the world. It scares me because I know what comes after the sobbing. What always comes after the sobbing.

The muttering. The cursing. The jumping to incorrect conclusions. The accusations and the undeserved incrimination. The need for a scapegoat.

And I'm that scapegoat.

All of the problems in the world are my fault. I'm the reason that evil groups like Team Rocket exist. I'm the reason that innocent people are murdered. I'm the reason for Pokémon who are bloodthirsty killers. I'm the reason for everything evil.

I'm the scapegoat.

It's the alcohol that makes it this way.

But it's still all my fault. Because I'm still the scapegoat. I'm always the scapegoat.

I can hear it now, muttering all of its grievances in a low voice that sounds ready to break. It becomes louder with each problem it recites, and it's not long before it escalates to yelling curses at the top of its lungs. I'm not even in the same room as it, and I'm already shaking like a leaf.

Of course, it doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with its problems without hard liquor. It hides behind it, as if it'll protect it from the true reality. But it doesn't. It won't. And that angers it. So, what does it take its anger out on?

Me, of course. I'm the scapegoat.

I stop writing, knowing what comes next, but not wanting to confirm it by making a physical record. I'd rather pretend it never happened. It isn't a topic you just bring up at brunch.

I use my journals to absorb the things I'd rather not have to remember. And this is one of them.

*JC's POV*

A loud thumping causes me to jolt awake. I sit up, rubbing my throbbing knee, which just impacted with the wall in response to the noise. I hear the thumping noise again, prompting me to go and investigate. Without thinking, I put my nursing apron on, just in case someone needs medical treatment. I also grab the Poké Ball of my Growlithe, Gruff, just in case of a burglar.

To my surprise, the thumping's origin seems to be somewhere in the inn rooms. Crossing quietly through the lobby, I see nothing suspicious. Chansey waves amicably at me from behind the counter, where she sleeps, and smiles lazily when I reflect the same gesture.

The thumping leads to Calypso's inn room. Wondering what could be making that noise, I open the door inaudibly, and slowly walk inside the room. Once I'm all the way inside, I shut the door, but to my horror, it emits a high-pitched creek before it closes. I shift my gaze to Calypso, but thankfully, the noise doesn't wake her up.

Speaking of Calypso, she is tossing and turning in an almost violent manner, while her comforter and nearly all of her pillows have been shoved or knocked off of the bed. Once I see her head collide with the headboard, I realize where the sound is coming from. I can't imagine how much that must hurt.

I walk up to the bed, but hastily step back as Calypso's bare foot nearly kicks me in the stomach. From the rampant way she is moving around, sweating like a Swinub on Mt. Chimney, and the expression of pure fear on her face, I'd say she's having a nightmare.

"Calypso!" I say her name audibly, but not too loudly since it's 4 in the morning, and other people are trying to sleep. At the statement of her name, Calypso opens her eyes, and jolts up forcefully. Though her amethyst eyes are open, I can tell that she is still asleep, trapped in her nightmare.

"MOMMY!" She shrieks in a shrill and childish, yet crystal clear voice. In any other context, the word use might have been comical, or even witty. But here, in the middle of the night, and the middle of a nightmare, it is nothing but disturbing. Then, as quickly as she sat up, Calypso's eyes roll into the back of her head, and she falls back onto the bed.

I am too startled by this whole experience to even move at the moment. I unconsciously listen for the sound of her breathing, and am relieved when I hear deep, heavy breaths coming from her.

Suddenly, the door opens, and a Chansey waddles in, an expression of worry on her pale pink face.

'What's going on', the Chansey asks me, 'I heard screaming. Is our guest all right?'

"Yeah," I nod to her, "She was just having a nightmare."

Then, to make sure Calypso is okay, I lay my hand on her forehead to check whether she has a fever or not. To my surprise, she is quite warm, and I ask Chansey to get me a damp washcloth to help cool her down.

While Chansey goes to grab the washcloth, I take a look at the thermostat. 75 degrees Fahrenheit (around 24 degrees Celsius)! No wonder the poor girl is sweating! I switch the temperature from 75 (24) to 69 (20.5) degrees. Thankfully, the fans in the inn rooms are quite powerful, and cool air starts pouring into the room.

I carefully position Calypso's body so she is lying comfortably on the bed, and to prevent her from becoming cold, I cover her with a very light sheet. I can't help but snicker when she snuggles into her pillow, and a light smile materializes on her face.

Chansey comes back with the washcloth, and I cover Calypso's forehead with it. I can tell that it's working when Calypso sighs contentedly, and then proceeds to start snoring.

"Thank Arceus that she's all right," I mutter.

Chansey gazes at me with an expression of curiosity. "Do you have any idea what the poor child would be having a nightmare about?"

"Well, she didn't have the best childhood, Chansey. Her parents died when she was four, and she was taken away from her guardian by her grandmother shortly after. And from what I've heard, she hates her grandmother with a passion. So I bet any one of those could be the root cause."

Chansey narrows her eyes in thought. "Do you think there could be any chance of abuse by the grandmother?"

I shift my hands to my hips, and silently go over every detail Calypso mentioned about her grandmother. "Nothing that Calypso said directly, but from the way she described the woman, it wouldn't surprise me if she physically disciplined Calypso."

"You should ask her about it tomorrow."

I shake my head no at the suggestion. "No, Calypso already has enough to deal with regarding her grandmother. If she were abused, bringing up the memories of it probably wouldn't help at all. You've already seen how angry at the world she is. I can almost bet that her frame of mind is very unstable, and I don't want to shatter the stability she does have."

Chansey sighs before shrugging at me, and leaving the room. Seeing as Calypso seems stable enough, I follow suit, and go to my quarters to reclaim some much-needed shuteye.

*Calypso's POV*

I groan as the sound of the alarm clock ringing infiltrates my good dream, and forces me to wake up. I angrily shove the clock off the nightstand, cancelling out the noise, but probably breaking it in the process. Hey, what can I say? That damn clock ruined the first good dream I've had in months. The contents of my good dream? A secret.

I grudgingly get up, get dressed, etc. As I walk out to the lobby, I catch sight of JC's face, and everything that happened last night rushes to my mind in a flash. I grit my teeth at the memories, not wanting to have to discuss them again.

JC holds my gaze, and I notice that while she is smiling, her smile is strained, and worry is entrapped within her rose eyes. I quickly break the eye contact. She's probably worrying about having a criminal in her establishment, and is strained by the pressure of trying to protect me. In that second, I hastily make the decision to cut her out of my life. It's for her own good.

Thankfully, JC is alone in the lobby, and since no one sane is up at this time, I'm not worried about anyone coming in.

I approach her at the counter, where she shares a sunny grin with me. I can tell she's faking it. She's worried underneath the fake grin.

When I don't smile back, her grin falters, and she glances at me curiously. She lowers her gaze, and says in a quiet voice,

"Silver already left. I checked his room around ten minutes ago, and it is completely deserted. He's one smart kid."

I only nod, the depression of what I know I must say next effectively preventing me from replying to her statement.

She tilts her head to stare at me incredulously, obviously thinking that anything to do with Silver would make me reply immediately. She'd normally be right. Baffled by my silence, she says, in almost a whisper,

"What's wrong?"

I sigh sadly, and speaking to her for the first time this morning, I respond,

"I have things I need to say, and I'm not looking forward to saying them."

She smiles a small smile, and my Grinch sized heart almost breaks at the fact that I have to say what I have to say.

"I'm sure these words you need to say aren't that bad," she drawls soothingly, "So why don't you just get it over with, and say them?"

Sighing sadly once again, our eyes lock together before I nod slowly. In a deep tone, I mutter to her,

"Look, I'm sorry for not telling you all about this before, and laying all of it on you and JP last night. My whole family situation just isn't something I like to talk about, especially since my social skills aren't the most refined. And the whole thing with the Grand Larceny and Destruction of Property… I'll admit, I'm not sorry for what I did that night. I did what I had to do to gain my freedom, one way or another. And while being locked up in a house doesn't seem like a life or death situation, it was for me. If I would have stayed for much longer, Gran and I probably would have ended up killing each other."

JC gives me a little eyebrow twitch, as if to say, "Now you're over-exaggerating."

When my serious expression doesn't falter after a few seconds, JC's rose eyes widen. I sigh breathily.

"What's sad", I go onto whisper, "is that you think I'm joking. What's even sadder is that I have to tell you I'm not. What happened in that house that night was me releasing all of my anger out towards her, and the world. I've never really been able to just release my emotions like that. I've always had to keep them under wraps. Honestly, I'm just grateful that she wasn't there to witness it. There could have been even worse consequences if she had been…"

I pause to sigh again, and then I stare JC full in the face.

"I completely understand if you want to break all ties with me. I'm a wanted criminal; you're a nurse. It could hurt your career if people found out that you were ever associated with me. It might be beneficial if we weren't friends anymore…"

A sharp slapping noise echoes throughout the lobby as a stinging starts developing on my cheek. Damn, JC has a nice bitchslap.

"Calypso Aspen Primrose! How dare you! How many times do I have to tell you that you are my friend, and nothing will change that? Sure, last night surprised me a little bit, but I'm not giving up on you! Besides, JP is up in Violet City, in this moment, risking her badge for your benefit! I am risking my license here for your benefit! We are fully involved for you, and we refuse to let you push us away, 'for our benefit.' Do you get that, Calypso?!"

I hastily shake my head yes, not only not wanting another slap, but in awe at her concern for me. It's been forever since anyone has bothered to care about me like that. Not since…

A single tear runs down my face, causing JC to pause her rage, and stare at me in astonishment. The first tear is shortly followed by more, and I start to sob silently. Very unlike the creature in my dreams, with its shrieking sobs. And for once, I cry neither of sadness nor fear; I cry of joy.

She rushes from behind the counter to hold me securely in her arms. She does not shush me, as Gran always did when I would cry. She knows that for once, I need to get my emotions out, or they will bubble inside me as they always have. Her hold on me is not choking like Gran, either, but rather, providing support where it's needed. Her comfort reminds me more of my mother, who used to hold me the same exact way.

"You are going to be a great mother," I whisper to JC after a few more seconds of tears. She only lets out a shaky laugh, while she starts rubbing my back soothingly. I soon calm down.

"I'm sorry," I say as soon as her arms release me, "It's just that—"

"It's okay," she responds quietly, "You don't need to explain yourself to me this time. You are always welcome to release your emotions when you're with me. No explanation required."

I giggle and sniffle at the same time. "No, it's okay, I want you to hear this. It's just that you remind me of my mother. The way you hold me, the way you don't shush me when I cry, and the way you care for me. I got so emotional because no one has bothered to care for me like she did besides you. Thank you."

Her rose eyes widen, but soon narrow to normal. She grins largely, and wraps me up in a full hug. This is quite hard for her to do, seeing as I have about five inches on her. I embrace her back, before grabbing her by the waist, and swinging her around a few times. She giggles gleefully before I set her back on the floor.

My eyes just happen to catch the clock. It's 8:15.

I point at the clock. "Shit, I guess I need to go."

JC glances at the clock, and frantically nods her head. "No kidding. Here's breakfast," she says as she hastily hands me a granola bar, "Now out you go!"

She practically shoves me out of the Pokémon Center. I don't stick around to have the last word, as I can hear the engine of a large motorbike. The Officers are out early this morning. Fuck.

Cyndi suddenly pops out of her Poké Ball, effectively startling me.

"Whoa, Cyndi, give me some warning next time! You scared the shit out of me! We're lucky I didn't scream, or we could've had the coppers on us in minutes!"

Cyndi only raises an eyebrow. After a few seconds, she adds a sigh, too. I shift my hands to my hips in defense.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! Besides, our next destination is Union Cave, which is all dark, wet, and cold. Aka, not a good place for you to train. Dusk is the one who needs the most training anyways. What levels are you guys at now? Let me check…"

I pull out the Pokédex, which flashes a red light when I turn it out. I quickly check the levels, moves, and stats of all four Pokémon.

"Let's see… Cyndi, you're at level eighteen… your moves are Tackle, Smokescreen, Ember, and Quick Attack. Spirit is level sixteen… her moves are Faint Attack, Wing Attack, Pursuit, and Peck. Both Dusk and Forest are at level thirteen… Dusk's moves are Psywave, Astonish, Spite, and Growl. Forest's moves are Vine Whip, Growth, Wrap, and Sleep Powder. Not bad, you guys…"

I become immersed in the Pokédex, so Cyndi whistles to get me out of my funk. I glance at her.

"Thanks. Anyways, I'm gonna train Dusk in Union Cave because her natural environment is in caves, and she and Forest need the most training. I mean, you can walk along with us if you want, but if you get wet, it's not my fault."

Cyndi appears to think about this for a moment, before approaching me. To my surprise, she reaches up, and taps her Poké Ball on my belt.

"I'll take that as a no," I say as Cyndi returns herself to her Poké Ball.

I then let Dusk out of her Poké Ball. She seems to be delighted at the prospect of more training. So, we start heading over to the entrance of Union Cave, where Dusk and I pummel Bird Keeper Peter, and to my surprise, there is a slightly shattered boulder standing in the way of what looks to be a valuable item. That reminds me…

"Dammit, I forgot to ask about Rock Smash."

[confusedsiewmai]

“I can’t believe it! This place is still here!” Apollo yelled above the racket of the night market crowd.

“Yes, it is,” Nahyuta said as he pushed through the sea of people to reach the stall. Apollo tagged closely behind with a nearly-swept-by-the-crowd Rayfa clinging to his overcoat, and he looked around in awe and nostalgia.

Behind the stall were people from all walks of life spilling onto the street, just like he remembered. There were people in office wear squeezed onto a small table, old men who wore just boxers and tank tops, large families that chattered away, and rowdy students gaming on their phones while waiting for their food to arrive. The stall sign lit up in bright yellow, practically screaming its menu in red, but it was less bright with dirt, grime and age. People had to share tables and whenever a large group of people came, a round wooden board was rolled out and the foldable table was set up in a jiffy for them (not after some yells and loud bangs, of course).

Apollo smiled at this relic of a scene. How on earth had it stayed the way he remembered it?

After asking around, the trio finally managed to squish into a large roundtable with a family of five. They thanked the family as they sat down. Then, the two groups of people settled back into their own conversations.

Rayfa picked up the menu and Apollo peered over to read it too. He saw what he wanted instantly. “They still sell it!” he said excitedly. “They still sell the beef noodles!”

Amused, Nahyuta leaned back slightly in his plastic stool to look past Rayfa and at Apollo. “Of course they do. It’s their specialty.”

“I know. But still.”

With a chuckle, he replied, “I get it. So exactly how you liked it when you were younger?”

With the biggest grin, Apollo nodded. He felt a vibration in his pocket, and somehow fished out his phone without elbowing anybody. “Datz said he’s running late. He wants beef tendon and rice.”

Looking down, Nahyuta asked, “Then, have you decided what you want, Rayfa?”

Her brow was furrowed in thought. “I kind of want the yak noodles... but mutton sounds really good too.”

“I could get mutton and share some with you if you want.”

She lit up. “Yes!”

“Then, what about drinks?”

“Barley!”

“Sour plum,” Rayfa said.

“Datz probably wants barley as well,” Nahyuta mumbled mostly to himself. “I’ll be back.”

+++

By the time Nahyuta does return however, the gush of people has already dwindled to a constant trickle, and he was accompanied by shouts.

“Come again, Yuty!” roared the gruff voice from behind the stall. “It was cool seeing you again!”

Nahyuta’s face only grew redder. If he wasn’t holding the tray of food, he probably would have buried his face in his hands.

Rayfa huffed as she lifted the bowls off the tray. “Next time, don’t spend so much time talking. We’re starving over here.”

“Who was that anyway?”

“Ya’mi Qui’zin,” Nahyuta muttered. “Son of the owner. And I wasn’t doing most of the talking. He was.”

“Hold up! Ya’mi?” Apollo said in surprise. “The snotty kid with about a million Pokémon cards?”

“Yes.”

Wearing an open-mouthed grin, Apollo turned and craned his neck back in a futile attempt to catch a glimpse of his childhood friend. “I thought he swore he’d never make noodles when he grew up?”

“He’s currently training to be a tattooist at the newest shop in this street. It’s called Human Print. But he still helps his mother on busier nights, which is practically everyday.”

Rayfa hummed. “You know so much about him. Must be pretty close.”

Nahyuta grimaced. “Not really. I know all of that during my time spent at the front of the queue.”

That made Apollo throw his head back, laughing. “That sounds just like him!”

A loud crash from not far away interrupted their conversation. This was followed by yells and screams and chicken squawking.

Eyes wide, Apollo whispered, “Please tell me that’s not Datz.”

A colourfully dressed man came stumbling out of the crowd. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Oh no,” said Apollo as he ducked his head behind his wide sleeve. Rayfa suddenly seemed very invested in stirring her bowl of noodles.

With a long-suffering sigh, Nahyuta just waved his hand. That caught Datz attention quickly and he made a beeline for his saved seat.

“Apollo!” Datz sat beside him, clapping his back. “You’re wearing Khura’in stuff! I almost didn’t recognise you in this outfit!”

Apollo bit back a Really wish you didn’t.

Nahyuta slid a bowl over to Datz.

“Thanks! Oh! It’s been so long since I could last eat from here!” Loudly, he said, “After I was put on the Wanted posters, I couldn’t even go grocery shopping anymore! Not to mention eat out!” He tucked right into his food.

Now the family we‘re sharing tables with is finishing up as quickly as they can. And... they left, Apollo thought, pursing his lips, as he watched them scuttle (or hobbling) away and pulling their child closer. I would too if it was socially acceptable.

Judging from the look on Rayfa’s face and the way she scooted a little further from Datz, she probably had similar thoughts.

Nahyuta sighed loudly and said, “Let’s eat now.”

Seeing everyone beginning to eat, Apollo grabbed the chili sauce and added some to his bowl. With a pair of chopsticks, he mixed it before picking some noodles into his spoon and eating it.

It tasted just as amazing as it did in the past, and possibly even more with the fond memories and feelings that surged up his chest at the familiar taste of broth and springy noodles. Warmth filled him, maybe from the piping hot noodles or something else entirely.

He placed some noodles in his spoon. However, when he lifted it, his hand just hovered in front of his lips, trembling slightly.

When he was a kid, He, Nahyuta and Datz would frequently travel down to the night market and buy takeaways to eat at home because Dhurke was too recognizable as the leader of the revolution. Occasionally, under the insistence of the kids, Datz would let them eat first before ordering takeaways for himself and Dhurke, who’d then grumble playfully about the lack of love he received from his children. (“Betrayal! From my very own children!”)

The last time Apollo came down the mountains for dinner, he had eaten from this stall, but he hadn’t known it would be his last time in a long time.

Steeling himself, Apollo pushed the spoon into his mouth and followed that with several more spoons of noodles that made his chest grow tighter and tighter with each mouthful.

It had always felt like they would forever have these relaxed days in between several continuous days where they had to stay in the mountains and out of sight. Things felt eternal when you were a kid. But, suddenly, the revolution took a chaotic turn and the country descended into further conflict. Then, the first time in several weeks that he left the house, he was hurriedly whisked out by Datz.

There was no time to breathe, and the next thing he knew: his next breath was of Japanifornia air. Facing the unrelenting wall of radio silence from his family in Khura’in while stuck in a foreign country, he had felt horribly alone. And for several months, maybe he was.

Apollo was mechanically feeding himself noodles at this point. It wasn’t until he saw something drip into his broth that he was startled out of his own thoughts. He looked up into the night sky. Was it raining?

He sniffled.

Oh.

He ducked his head and continued to eat. Now that he noticed it, however, he was abruptly too conscious of himself and the concerned looks Datz, Nahyuta and Rayfa were giving him.

As discreetly as possible, he rubbed his eyes and sniffled.

Shit. There was no way they didn’t notice that. Also, his cheeks were definitely much too wet.

“Damn, this is spicy as hell!” Apollo yelled to mask the waver in his voice and breathed deeply through his mouth as if to demonstrate this. “I added too much damn chili! And now, I’m crying.” He forced out a chuckle. “Spicy! Spicy!”

“They might have changed the chili brand they use,” Nahyuta mused.

Apollo’s bracelet pulsed around his wrist.

Rayfa crossed her arms. “You can’t even stand a little bit of spice! Clearly, leaving Khura’in has made your tongue weak!” she declared. “We will make sure you get used to the local cuisine again!”

Was that the princess’ attempt at cheering him up?

“Do you want some water, ‘Pollo?” Datz asked, leaping to his feet.

“I’d like that,” he choked out.

Datz came back with a cup of water and sat down. After several gulps of water, Apollo was feeling slightly better, breathing a little easier. When he placed the cup back down, he couldn’t help but notice Datz’s chair had grown nearer still to Apollo’s.

As the night stretched out into comfortable silence, the four of them found themselves huddled a little closer, leaving a large gap at the other side of the round table.

[jumpchain-drop]

Chapter 5.1: 0.0 Years

“….aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

CRASH!

I landed in a face-down belly flop. It hurt, but somehow I don’t think I was injured. Still took a minute to get up.

“Where…?”

I was beside a walking path in a grassy area, at the foot of some small rocky hills. At the end of the path was a shack in the middle of a fence with a “Don’t Enter” sign on it. Most everything else around me seemed to be a mountain or natural forest.

Speaking of, I saw a couple kids playing around the trees a good distance off. They weren’t proportioned like normal human kids, though, and were closer to chibi-deformed. So I wasn’t someplace serious enough to bother rendering humans realistically (I say, after coming out of Wind Waker fighting for my life). It seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t think from where. Must be another game world that I only played to play, I thought, like Wind Waker was.

That’s when I thought to check myself out. Annoyingly enough, I was a kid again, probably around age ten. As if going through puberty a second time wasn’t enough. I was wearing and orange-and-blue-striped shirt and otherwise dressed like, well, a kid – admittedly, a kid with an ATM card with his name on it in his pocket. That’s the other shoe dropping, isn’t it… In the Pokémon world, you could become a trainer at age ten and could be effectively self-sufficient (barring the real-world sustainability of the whole thing, but Orre compensated for that by actually having lower housing prices). I doubt that also applied here. Did I have parents? A house?

Well, actually… I did have a house.

No one was around the shack, so I went to check it out. It was locked shut, but I still had a key that could open it. Not that it let me get into the shack.

I entered the Warehouse and checked out the roster board. As I suspected, all red. In my idle movement, I looked over to the pole. Another new plate, this one showing-

Wait.

I know this image.

This is the Franklin Badge. It had the lightning bolt and the word “MOTHER” written across it.

I’m in EarthBound.

I’m in… freakin’ EarthBound.

Terrific. I went from a game I played but didn’t remember to a game I tried to play and hated. Yeah, I’m the kind of person that thinks needing to speed through menus as a gameplay mechanic was made by a designer that didn’t know the point of freakin’ menus. Which, incidentally, is also why I never got into most famous RPGs, including Final Fantasy, Chrono Trigger, and this… I didn’t even get to the gang leader first boss.

At least I managed to see Chuggaaconroy’s second Let’s Play of it before I got yoinked into this chain of events, so I wasn’t completely blind past what I managed to play.

I composed myself and went to get my backpack from my housing unit. As to be expected, the notebook was inside it.

Layer 5:

You have ten years in this world.

None of your companions have been imported into native forms.

Your gear purchases will arrive shortly.

You have a bank account containing $50,000.

I have determined “defensive PSI” to mean Recover and Assist PSI techniques.

Youth has its advantages.

Entertain me. Don’t get your head handed to you.

“Wha- No companions?!” I said. “What the hell?!” When it didn’t respond, I remembered to write it out.

“The document contains no companion import options,” appeared below the list in the notebook. “My hands are tied. You can still call for them.”

“Terrific,” I groaned as I closed the book. “Only like one of them can be human...”

Calm down, I told myself. Calm down. I took some deep breaths and tried thinking again. Ten teammates, I could call in eight, and only one of them, Terra, had a human alt-form...

...Come to think of it, most of the Hylians had lost their pointy ears in Wind Waker. Which meant that they could pass as human. Among my own team, the only Hylians that had pointed ears were Bolt, Shadow, and Tooty, which I suspected had to do with their heroic and royal backgrounds; so Maria, Cody, and Manaphy would be able to pass fine.

Well, I mean, Terra and Manaphy I was going to bring in regardless, and if I brought in Terra it was only fair to bring Tooty too. Bolt, Cody, and Anita still weren’t at the peak of their Pokémon potential, and they weren’t going to get it frozen in time; Bolt’s ears could probably be explained with plastic surgery or something, and I’ll think of something to do about neither of Anita’s two alt-forms being remotely close to most species in this world, especially human. Twig I wanted to introduce to different worlds entirely, and he could be passed off easily enough as some kind of firefly.

One slot left between Bitbit, Shadow, and Maria… and, honestly, I felt kinda bad for Bitbit having to sit out the last time we have to save the day. Shadow and Maria would understand; they knew not every team member was suitable for every expedition.

But the shed door was a little too out in the open for me to feel comfortable pulling them out here. So I put on a backpack with some food supplies and the notebook, exited the Warehouse, and set out down the path into the town of Onett.

It’s a nice place. Most of the folks in the north part are pleasant enough. I remember gangs in the south side, so not checking out there as long as I can manage. Passing by the burger shop, I went into the drug store, which I remember mostly for having ATMs in them, and lo, there it was. True to the machine’s word, there was $50,000 in it. I withdrew $20 to get lunch at the burger shop. I mean, the team had so much money that with conservative spending it would last us forever, but most of it was Cody’s and it’d be rude to just take some of his hard-earned cash when I had some of my own available.

As I had a burger and fries, I racked my mind for as much of my knowledge of EarthBound as I could manage, including Chuggaaconroy’s LP and the “Chosen Four” webcomic (unfortunately somewhere the dinosaur area when I was abducted; the sooner I get back home, the sooner I can see the end of it). I had to ponder my options. I doubt I had any background whatsoever in this world, since I hadn’t in any others. Which meant no home and no job. Honestly, the fact I had a bank account was weird given that context. I’d soon have most of my team here to alleviate some of that, but since we needed a door to access the Warehouse, we couldn’t just co-opt something…

Then I remembered something I saw in the Let’s Play that I remember marking as completely freakin’ pointless even by JRPG standards.

I took out another $10,000 (to be safe) and headed south, through a path in the woods near the hospital, and caught sight of the house on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and the real-estate agent outside it. There was also a saxophone player looking over the sea, but he wasn’t paying attention.

Perfect.

Making sure I was out of sight, I poofed up into my original form – well, original-plus, I guess it could be called. I talked to the agent and bought the house for $7,500. He must have thought he was a clever little snake as he gave me the keys to the place, but he couldn’t have known. I am, after all, completely outside his context.

Didn’t stop the place from being a giant dump that was missing an entire wall. Nothing that’s not fixable. I put the Warehouse key on the inside of the front door and opened it.

“Terra, Manaphy, Tooty, Bolt, Cody, Anita, Bitbit, Twig! Come on out!”

So, seeing eight people suddenly crammed into a single doorway (including the fairy several magnitudes smaller than the others) is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and thankfully, I don’t think they held my falling on the floor laughing against me.

Once I helped everyone out and we were settled around around the busted building as much as they could get comfortable (which wasn’t too hard, this wasn’t too far from the open-to-the-ocean Sharpedo Bluff), I explained this world to them. The modern setting the most like my contemporary home world thus far, the basics of the globe-spanning plot that’d come to pass and major players in it, the presence of PSI, and even some of the lore details I remembered from watching Chuggaaconroy’s LP of the original MOTHER (which was much longer ago so I remembered less of it).

“So what are we doing to do?” asked Cody.

“Nothing,” I said.

“...What?” he said.

“As I said. Nothing. The asshole elevator gave me explicitly no need to do anything to entertain it, so after ten years having to worry about a giant-ass final battle that I’m honestly glad everyone survived, I’m spending the next ten years as a kid in the nineties again and trying to enjoy myself. When Ness goes to save the world, he can go save the world. Everyone can go do what they want as long as it’s not illegal. I am going to stay in this town, as a normal kid in a run-down house that we’re going to fix up, that happens to be building a defensive wall around the chokepoint to here so our house doesn’t get taken over by aliens when they eventually overrun the town. ...Oh right, yeah, aliens are eventually going to overrun the town. Forgot to mention that.”

“...Well I know what I’m doing!” Tooty said, standing up. “I’m going exploring!”

“Very well,” said Terra. “I myself will stay here with Robert. With my human form, I think I can pass easily enough for his mother if anyone asks.”

“I’m not so irresponsible as to let you all go without any support,” I relented. “Let’s hear what you want to do, and I’ll help make it happen.”

So we went around and went over what they wanted to do.

Altogether, Bolt, Twig, and Bitbit opted to join Tooty on her expedition, departing on one of our boats. Well, I asked Twig to go; he was well and truly over the ocean at this point and wanted to see more of land, but he understood my wanting to keep Tooty and Bolt safe and plus it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty of crazy dangerous land areas they were going to explore. His ability to boost attack strength would be better served out in the field. Bitbit wanted to get a taste of what he missed in the last ten years and stretch his wings, while also being strong enough to protect them if things got too dicey for them. They decided to sail on Timothy, since he could change his appearance to blend in with modern ships and was the best boat they had that could fit through the door; if Bitbit took breegull form, he could roost on the figurehead when not flying, and while slightly cramped there would be space for the two that weren’t small enough that space wasn’t an issue. They’re going over their plans and supplies now. We established that they’ll take one of Tooty’s Gossip Stones along so they can keep in touch with us, as well as one of the treasure maps, naturally.

Manaphy wanted to go with them, but I vetoed that for a number of reasons: there was no more room on the boat (“I can swim, Papa!” “I know, but even you can’t swim 24/7. Even then, the you that can swim for long periods of time is going to look out of place and it’ll cause a panic.”), we didn’t have Maria to keep an eye on him, and I wanted to know where he was when the plot started. So he’s remaining with us. He’s still pouting about it, but I know he’ll get over it.

Cody decided to take the Infinite Wallet (leaving us still a sizeable amount of money in Eagleland dollars) and look into the open-air market in Twoson. He didn’t feel like making another business empire like he did in the Great Sea, but he hoped to eventually get up to a proper shop. He really liked selling people things they needed, and promised to send a cut of the profits to us every month. Does that mean he’d be my dad in this scenario…?

Which left Anita. I told her I wanted her to stay with us, and she agreed. Though it seems like she’s hiding something from me. I have my guesses as to what but didn’t press, because I was still a little overwhelmed in general. Especially since by this point a walking table ran up to the house with a large curved bar with an infinity sign carved on it, and it wouldn’t leave.

I was in a world I wasn’t really so fond of for the next ten years and would have to go through puberty for the third freakin’ time. Just because I didn’t have to do anything didn’t mean I couldn’t wish it was already over.