#i just think their friendship is neat and i like to think bea went to camila while considering leaving the ocs behind

[ihopethisendswell]

RANDOM POKEMON SWSH THINGS/QUESTIONS/ HEADCANONS THAT LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE:

I find it interesting that while Leon did mention that he knew the mc from Hop, but never really seen them himself. Like I get that it's implied that mc hadn't been in Postwick for a long time, since Leon only heard of them through Hop, but I'd assume that maybe a video call or something where he can actually see mc. Or maybe I'm overthinking it

If mc's did move to Postwick only recently to the games events( say ranging from a few months to a year), I find it quite amazing how much trust Hop has in them. Like, I understand fast friendships, or people just clicking together but THAT amount of trust and friendship for someone you honestly just meet is kinda much( at least for me anyway).

Also, of that's the case I would have liked to see that aspect of the relationship between mc and Hop explored a bit more ( though what we got in the games are alright).

Leon has a fucking Charizard jeep

King shit right there

Raihan's tall and Milo is small.

Raihan last gym leader, Milo first

The cinematic poetry of those two is immaculate. And very funny when you think about it.

I wish we got to see Nessa and Sonia interact in the game

Though I understand.....the queens in this game are far to powerful. They'll throw the whole game off

Gordie isn't blonde( blond?) what

I want to see Gordie's sibling

They're too cute to ignore

Not to mention it'll great for the the theme of the game

I like how the game hammers home that the adults in the game where once kids, and they went through stuff and still going through it. Idk. I just think it's neat.( *cough* Sonia*cough)

I can't tell if Piers hair is naturally black and white, or if he dyed it.

MARNIE

HOP

BEDE

I want them to be friends

I want them to interact more!

This is why fanfic exist

Still conflicted on how I feel about Rose, but I do not that he had potential.

Oleana deserves better.

Minor league??? Can we see it????

If there's a minor in Galar, would that mean they're minor leagues in other regions or is it just a Galar thing?

HOP

He's one of my fav rivals.

I'm so proud of him

I wonder if at any point in time he Hop see's Sonia more of a sibling than Leon?

Not saying that he doesn't love Leon!

But Sonia have been there for him more during his journey

Or maybe this is my angsty brain making me suffer

Kabu is a dad

So is Peony

Stop hating on Nia she's cool

Jk you can have your opinions

Just don't be mean to others

But I actually like her a lot

Give me big sis vibes

I haven't talked about Bea and Allister and that's a crime

I feel like Bea would be close to the mc and rivals age.( To what I headcanon to be 15) Maybe 16 or 17

Allister is the youngest....maybe 10? 11? Idk, I just know he's smol abd needs to be protected.

Also they're siblings. No I won't take criticism.

I like the idea that Raihan is either A) a random dude who likes history B) a decedent of either royalty or some high position or C) is an older brother himself but the games where to cowardly to show us his siblings.

There was this theory about Raihan being related to Rose, and by extension Peony, somehow, and I low-key want to see more of that. It's VERY interesting to think about.

Bede's a little shit and I love him for it.

OPAL

I've committed the worst crime in not talking about her.

Faery grandma

Maybe fae herself, we don't know

Rose is low-key scared of her.

Can't blame him

A good grandma

With her cool fairy pokemon

Pink

Yes

Last one

Milo is a great hugger. His muscles are big and his hands are soft and thus he gives the best hugs.

#pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #champion leon #pokemon sonia #rival hop #pokemon gym leaders #i'm not gonna tag all of them cause thats a lot of work #but enjoy my bullshit #i guess

[ecotone99]

[TH] Stuck on You

I'm staring at myself in the mirror now. I've been here in my own reflection for the last hour, as everything has come back to me. First it was in short flashes, then the memories became longer, or the gaps shorter. I've always had this problem, events from my past being mostly blank when I try to remember things. My family, my childhood. I would nod along when my brother complains about how I used to steal all of his toys, my father would laugh about how I would shape mud into castles after a heavy rain in the backyard. None of it felt real. It railed against other memories that I had simultaneously, such as the rows of dresses that I used to own, the dolls that I would play with for a time, before I got bored and my mom told me off when I went back to playing with the neighbor's cat. They all ran together and got stuck. Then I recalled the long hair that would get caught in the toilet, asking my mom if she remembered how she stopped me when I tried to chop it all off with a pair of scissors in the bathroom. I had a laugh, as I thought it was mildly amusing. She would look away, as if she were uncomfortable. Oh well, I think I'm funny, I thought. Still, the cognitive dissonance between those conflicting memories wore on me slowly. I wondered, why is it that my family and friends grew more unapproachable every time I would bring up these events?

You were the only friend that I ever had who understood, who was apparently only in my mind, too. You were my best friend, yet you were so vague in my memory, I couldn't even remember your name, up until now. I remembered that late summer afternoon as being one of the best days of my life. There you were, sitting all alone from the other kids reading. You were always such a bookworm, you know that? I tipped the pail filled halfway with sand in front of you to get your attention. My sandals filled with the stuff. I sat next to you, then folded my arms over my knees. "Hi, what's your name?" I asked. I grinned, then giggled as your face turned red over your freckles. They drew me to you. I wanted to tell you how much they reminded me of the ants that I poured sugar over, and watched them carry it back to the queen into their hill. Then I thought you might not like ants as much as I do. You shifted away and buried your face between the pages. I tilted my head, then blew a raspberry and dug my now bare feet into the sand. I stared down at the leaves that fell from the tree overhead, a few yellow ones in the pile of mostly green. I remembered then what my father told me about how it's polite to introduce oneself first. "I'm Robert," I offered. You pulled your attention away from your book.

"Bonnie," I said. I glanced at your face and smiled slightly. You had the biggest smile. At first I thought you hadn't heard me. Then you inched closer. You asked me what I was reading, Bonnie. I can't even remember what it was at the time. You offer your hand and I take it, your skin like a stone gripped in warmth. You wanted to play hide and seek, you said it was your favorite game. We played rock, paper, scissors for who was it first. You then covered my hand even when I drew scissors, and told me that you can't cut through a flat rock. I shrugged, covered my hands over my eyes. Three, two, one. I open them and of course, you're not there. I thought, for a terrible moment, that you just wanted a way to get away from me. That you were tired of me, like all of the other kids. Then you gave yourself away when I came closer to the tree. I remarked flatly that trees don't laugh. The leaves fell and the branches shook. You fell somewhat of a distance to the ground with a snort, as if it didn't even hurt. I thought you would have been harder to find, your pale skin and light blond hair. You were like an unfinished drawing in my coloring book, but only on the outside.

"Your turn!" I laughed. I closed my eyes and folded my hands over my face, a huge grin plastered over it. Eight, nine, ten! You were hard to find. I would have thought this would be easy. Your fiery red hair and flowered dress were so colorful, not hard to spot against the rocky dirt ground and gnarled roots. Yet you were nowhere to be seen on the small playground. I asked the other kids where you had gone, if they'd seen you, but they only shrugged and went back to their game. I don't recall what they were playing, I was too busy with finding you. I walked more carefully past the big tree and farther on the walkway, toward the wood chips and past rubber curb. There you were, hiding deep inside the slide. I ran under the shade of the red plastic and climbed up the ladder. It was one of those funnel slides, not as good as feeling the air on my face as I slid down, but kind of neat because your voice makes an echo. "Boo!" You screamed and lost your grip, then slid the rest of the way down. I sat and followed after you down the tunnel. I landed on top of you face first. "You're it."

"My mom is going to kill me!" I cried. We played until I hadn't realized how long past it was that I had to be home. The sun was already gone past the cliff. You told me that you would see me tomorrow, if I was still alive. A cut on your cheek glistened in the waning light as you waved a bruised hand. It was like nothing affected you, as if you paid no attention to your body. You collected your shoes and ran in the other direction, I assumed back to your own house. My mom told me off that night, and grounded me for a week, but I survived. The next morning, you were right outside my bus stop. I gave a nervous smile. I asked if you were new at our school. You nodded effusively, then told me that you were so excited to start school again. You said that you hoped you were in all of the same classes as me. Your smile was almost unsettling, when it wavered. I asked what was the matter. You dug your tattered sneaker into the sidewalk. You wouldn't look at me. The school bus rumbled in the neighborhood, still out of sight. You dug your hands into your pockets, but not before I noticed the cuts on your fingers.

"Hey!" I blurted. You pulled my hand from my coat pocket. You affectively demanded that I tell you what they were. I let out a sigh. "I get bored sometimes." You waited in silence, a funny look on your face. "Yesterday after I went home, it was so quiet in my room." I pinched my face in frustration. "My dad never lets me do anything after dinner, so I jammed my fingers into my pencil sharper." You ask me why, why would I do that. I threw up my hands. "I don't know! I just have to feel something. I feel like, like nothing all the time. It hurt but it was kind of, I don't know." I looked at the ground. Now I knew you thought I was weird, like all of the other kids, but you tell me to please don't do that anymore. The bus rolled to a stop and we got on together, then even sat in the same seat! I would keep my promise to you if it meant I got to be this close. It turned out that we had the same math and science classes together! I was so happy to be your lab partner. I remember now, how fast I ran over to your station. Ms. Bea wasn't happy that I tripped over a stool and made the whole class laugh. I felt something then, but it wasn't the physical pain that thrummed dully through my body as I hit the hard surface of the floor. No, above all I finally had a new feeling, and it was definitely entertaining.

You told me to come over to your house a week after that, to start our new project for the semester. You had already convinced your dad to let you use his laptop, as long as there were no 'funny searches' as he put it. I uncapped a container of dark green glitter from my bag and drew on the poster board with a dark purple marker. The smell filled my nose, and I had to turn away. I hated that I was so sensitive to the smell. The glitter clung on my hands and flecked abrasively between the webs of my fingers. You noticed when I made a sound. You asked what was wrong. "There's glitter stuck all under my nails and it's everywhere!" I groaned and stood. You show me your bathroom. It was dimly lit, with a stale water smell, but it was clean and the water feels good, as the glitter is washed down the drain of the sink. I dried my hands on the one threadbare towel on the rack and come back out into the narrow hallway. You hummed some tune as you smeared glue with your fingers onto the poster board. Suddenly I wished that I could be a bit more like you. The thought came to me as I wicked the subtle leftover moisture on my palms onto my pale blue skirt.

"How do you do that without getting completely disgusted? I would want to run to the bathroom and wash it all off," you said. I glommed my sticky fingers together and laughed. I had a devious thought cross my mind, but then quickly abandoned it. I thought about what it would be like to pin you to the carpet and smear the bright blue stuff on you. I don't know why these thoughts enter my mind. What I noticed about you, is that you were far too sensitive to be subject to that. I was careful with you, while our relationship went further on and grew, as it was essential to maintain our friendship. I didn't understand why, but it was important to me. You were so special. I never knew why you continued to hang around me, but the weeks turned into months. I waited for you to eventually leave, but you stayed. There you were every morning at the bus stop. I waited, unaffected by the cold on my fingertips, as I gripped onto the worn nylon strips of my backpack, until your door cracked open and you joined me there. I fought back the thoughts of wanting to relieve my boredom with some sort of physical sensation. One day, I suddenly thought about what it would be like to be like you. How good it might feel to be so...I don't know, feeling of everything.

"Do you want to come over to my house today? My mom went out to get groceries and I'm alone-" There was a thud on the other end. Not even a minute passed and the doorbell rang. I let out a laugh, then bounded down the expansive steps of the front foyer. There you were, your wide grin and bright eyes that peeked through the glass of the front door. You waved, then hugged me as I opened the door. You told me how much you'd wanted to see the inside of my house, but felt that it wasn't polite of you to ask without being invited. I almost say that of course you can come over, but then I immediately tell you to take off your shoes. They're caked in gravel and wet sand. You pull them off, then slide on the marble in your socks. You tell me that your brother is getting his driver's permit with your dad, and that it was perfect timing for you to sneak out of your house. Not that they would care much, anyway, you added. I told you that this probably wasn't true, but you shrug. You suggest that we play outside. The clouds had cleared and the storm from last night passed. It was an early day in March. The snow had melted and there was more mud than grass.

"I don't know," you say hesitantly. I can't help but frown slightly, my hand loose on the knob. Then, something I didn't expect happened. You smile and then nod. "Okay, let's go!" You push past me and light fills the kitchen as you open the door to the backyard. I start for the door, then catch myself and turn back around to grab my shoes. I stand on the deck as I slip them on again, and then follow you down the steps. Your yellow dress is matted with mud as you sit on the ground next to me. To my surprise and delight, you make the best mud castles! They're so neat! Nothing like mine, which slope off at odd angles or fall apart altogether. "This soil is too dry," I complained. Then I spotted something white, a puff ball in the corner of the fence. I stood and walked toward it. "Wishing flower!" You look up from your castle and watch as I blow on the thing. Tufts of white float delicately through the air. You ask what I wished for. "Well I can't tell you or it won't come true, but obviously I wished for wetter mud." My face turns slightly warm. I kicked at the dirt in mild embarrassment. I could swear it feels different on my shoes.

"I want to make a wish, too," I said. I stood and looked for more of the things in my backyard, but it's mostly bare. The ground had begun to feel icy between my toes. I stepped over a fallen branch from our tree and there, behind it, were more. I gasped. "They're over here!" I plucked one out of the ground. I inhaled sharply, when you come into my sight. I blink at you. Then, I take a step closer. "Robert, I-" I closed my eyes, then let go of a breath. I made a silent wish. When I open them, you're right there in front of me, another dandelion in your hand. You stood there, almost hesitantly, a restrained smile on your lips. You blow it right into my face and giggle. "What did you wish for?" I asked. I hoped. I wanted it to be the same as mine. You told me that, like you said, you would never tell. "Me neither," I said softly. The moment passed like it was nothing, the memory faded like the dull colors of the mud in the backyard. The dirt came loose from under my fingernails, in my desperate attempt to undo what was done, as I splash cold water on my face over the sink. I blinked my eyes as I contemplated myself in the mirror. I looked down at my hands again, and the memories flashed through my mind.

I tilt my head, as a funny laugh bubbles from my chest, along with the feeling that I had before when I rushed toward you in Ms. Bea's science class. I look into my eyes, bright blue and deep amber flecked together. I comb my fingers through my short, strawberry blond hair, and then run my hands down over the freckles on my equally soft face. My voice is raw from when I screamed. I screamed in uncontrollable terror, but now I'm...numb? No, that's not the word, not anymore. I can't even comprehend what I am now, as I stand in front of myself. The door has opened, in the front hall. Mom and dad are home, my brother, too. They were taking him out to get his driver's licence today. That's right, I remember now. My family was gone for the day, and I was on my bed, nothing but alone with my thoughts. That's when it hit me, when I remembered. "Bo, honey? We're home," my mother calls. I inhale softly, then blow out in the mirror. I wished that I could be like you, that we could spend all of our time with each other, and that we would always be together. I nod to myself and then touch my face one last time. "Okay, mom," my voice cracks.

​

Originally posted on Wattpad December 10th, 2019

Link to my story on Wattpad here:https://www.wattpad.com/814456963-stuck-on-you

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