#i love her so much you have no idea. too bad she's an elite four member AND a battle facility head. double condemnation.

[ay0nha]

Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…”  Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds​ for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished,  “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.  

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly.  “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back.  She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.  

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated.  Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.”  You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them.  “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.  

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel.  “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel.  It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

 You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle.  It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute.  “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare.   Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies.  Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting.  So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.  

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…”  You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.”  Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself.  You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips.  He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.  

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly.  His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet.  His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

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[mountmortar]

i started thinking about lyra in my sharedverse again so i'm going to drop some ideas about her just because <3

okay so when she becomes champion i think her first order of business is making friends with everybody in the elite four. and lance. this means that at every possible opportunity she's popping up behind bruno or will or karen or koga like a demon in the night to be like HELLOOOOO <3 CAN I HAVE YOUR NUMBER? and on more than one occasion it's led to screams being heard across the entirety of the indigo plateau because. Holy Shit

i also think she eventually starts wearing a cape like lance along with whatever her new champion outfit is because she loves a good swoosh of a cape. lance is in tears about it

she's a social butterfly and i know this in my heart and it serves her well jumping between being the new champion and also being a pokéathlon star. she keeps promoting her grandparents' daycare every time she's on the radio or TV until they have to call her like Hey Sweetie. We Love You. Please Stop With The Promotions We Are So Overfull

and on a similar note once kris becomes the leader of the battle tower she's constantly trying to get her to do collabs of every variety with her and kris is like yeah i'm not coming down from this tower. sorry. i live here now. they are polar opposites when it comes to being in the public eye to the point where the press aren't even allowed past the ground floor of the tower. if they want to see her they'll have to battle their way up same as everyone else. lyra thinks this is a bad business practice (but finds it funny all the same) so she's also constantly promoting the battle tower as well

lyra does take breaks though!!!! sometimes she goes to bother silver in the dragon's den and when gold disappeared for a. while. trying to get red to come down from mt. silver she ditched the entire plateau to go tackle him for disappearing in the first place once he finally calls her to say that he's alive

and of course when she caught sight of the awkward guy in red behind him and realized he was a strong trainer she instantly wanted to battle him. and when she realized he was the previous champion who defeated team rocket a couple years ago and then vanished she REALLY wanted to battle him because the champion seat was hers now (thank you very much) and she wasn't about to let him steal it out from under her

(she won. obviously. and then used red as bait to try and lure kris down from the battle tower to compete in the pokéathlon with her. it almost works until kris is like "Actually if he's so strong he can fight his way up to the top like everyone else too. No special privileges <3" and lyra's like FUCK I ALMOST HAD HER)

(red does in fact manage to get all the way to the top until he loses to kris as well because he's doomed to forever lose to the johto protagonists no matter the universe)

since getting blue's phone number is a hgss exclusive thing and you have to visit daisy multiple times to do it i like to think that she and daisy hit it off wonderfully. and lyra is the one who blue eventually calls to do his "wah wah i miss red you look just like him" spiel. which means that once she connects the dots and realizes red is The Guy Blue Was Sad About she grabs red by the arm and marches him to viridian city and bursts into the gym like HEY BLUE IS THIS THE GUY YOU WERE CALLING ABOUT

(gold is following behind the entire time. extremely amused about all of this but you would never be able to tell because of his resting bitch face)

and of course sticking with hgss-exclusive things: lyra is the one who experiences the celebi event (though i like to think she does it by herself instead of with gold because i think it's something more for her to experience. y'know)

because lyra wasn't the "main protagonist" (AKA the one silver was rivals with) in this universe (the "main protagonist" of the sharedverse is kris. they're all protagonists in their own right though) i don't think she'd know silver all too well outside of being That One Guy Kris Is Friends With (for some fucking reason) Who Hangs Out In The Dragon's Den And Also Stole A Pokémon (Or Two??? Kris Was Unclear) but after experiencing the celebi event i think she swings by the dragon's den a LOT more often and actually tries to make genuine friends with silver. no matter how prickly he is at first

eventually they have their hgss double battle against lance and clair together (though i'd imagine the dialogue being a bit different than it was in the actual game because the sharedverse is based off of gsc and not hgss and everyone knows how i feel about how hgss butchered every single character. but i digress) and that's when they really start to hit it off!! eventually silver starts challenging the indigo plateau a lot more because that's their version of hanging out. until she manages to drag him to her grandparents' daycare and make him play with the baby pokémon

(word of this gets back to kris and she finally leaves the battle tower just to come over and laugh at him for being swarmed by baby pokémon until silver finally tackles her and they start [play]fighting about it. and then lyra gets her azumarill to hit them both with a hydro pump and that stops them real quick)

lyra and gold compete in the pokéathlon together sometimes!!! and during lyra's first trip to mt. silver he comes with her and points out all the best spots. including where he first met red at the summit. they have a battle up there that ends in a tie and laugh about it for hours afterwards. and lyra admits that sometimes just hanging out on a mountain with a friend is just as fun as running around the indigo plateau

she eventually does catch celebi as well. she knows she has to be responsible and all especially now that she's champion but she does allow herself one (1) time travel prank. and it's glorious

and as for the hgss arceus event. Well. That's for her to know <3

#i don't talk about her enough. she's an absolutely crucial part of the sharedverse and i love her dearly #trainer lyra #sharedverse

[i-have-no-braincells]

okay miscellaneous unova elite four headcanons let’s go:

-grimsley is always bisexual to me. however i vibe with both him being cis and him being trans headcanons. either way he’s always gnc to me though.

-caitlin is trans (mtf) and uses she/they pronouns. she and shauntal are also both lesbians to me <3

-marshal is panromantic asexual and i really like the idea of him being trans (ftm).

-grimsley enjoys classic horror films from the 80s-90s. yk the really cheesy horror films where some of them could barely be considered horror. i also think he enjoys musicals, but specifically musicals like phantom of the opera, jekyll and hyde, little shop of horrors, sweeney todd, the beetlejuice musical. he enjoys some recent horror films as well, but he thoroughly enjoys the cheesy, old classics.

-shauntal, on the other hand, loves the fucked up horror movies. she appreciates well done gore. she likes the stuff that would make most people cringe or look away. she’s a little freak who finds that shit incredibly fascinating. plus, it’s wonderful inspiration for her books!!

-caitlin is not a big movie watcher. she will watch whatever anyone else wants to watch because they will be falling asleep during said movie.

-marshal loves his classic karate and martial arts films. he’s a big nerd for them and owns several posters of said movies. however, you could also catch him watching a stupid rom-com… just don’t tell anyone!!

-shauntal has dabbled in a wide variety of genres when it comes to her writing. she specializes mostly in horror, romance, or a mix of the two. but no matter what genre she’s writing for, there’s always certain aspects and nuance to it that defies the stereotypes of the genre at hand. she also is a common author to see featured in the LGBT section!!

-grimsley collects playing cards. it’s not a very special or unique headcanon, but he has a wide variety of playing cards all from different places or themed around things he enjoys.

-caitlin has narcolepsy. i think this is a fairly common hc as well. since she’s often falling asleep and experiencing dreams, her dreams are prophetic more often than not. their psychic specialty is prophecy and interpreting prophetic dreams, however i believe she has the ability to do basically any psychic power one could think of. i like to think she’s a very powerful psychic.

-marshal and grimsley have a very unique rivalry to me. they’re best friends for sure, and honestly marshal is not as competitive as grimsley is. but those two fuel each other’s competitiveness to all hell. they have a running tally on how many times each other have won during sparring matches. they would also die for each other.

-speaking of which, marshal is very much the braincell of the elite four. i do think he’s a bit of a himbo, but he is actually the most responsible of the four and has the best coping mechanisms and self control (as a martial artist should have). he loves helping his friends and finds enjoyment in such.

-grimsley is likely the least responsible. he is by no means a bad friend, and he’s obviously very clever and smart. but he has a knack for disappearing without saying anything only to show up hours later. of course no one trusts him with financial advice. and he absolutely loves messing with and playing pranks on the others.

-shauntal is very caring and a bit of an older sister figure to marshal and grim. she’s also the oldest of the group. this doesn’t mean she doesn’t also like getting into mischief with grimsley, the two are partners in crime for sure. shauntal also has a bad habit of getting too focused on her writing and becoming a temporary shut-in.

-caitlin is reliable and trustworthy when she can be. the others are very aware of her narcolepsy and obviously don’t treat her like they’re helpless, but they do understand she won’t always be present. and they’re okay with that. they’ve known caitlin for ages now and so they know how to help, assist, and work with caitlin’s diagnosis.

-speaking of caitlin, she has autism. i see a lot of people depict her as very bubbly, but i see her as more blunt and monotone. along with her constant tiredness, she doesn’t have the energy to keep up verbal appearances, and so sometimes she comes off as rude or apathetic. she also has a very sarcastic sense of humor, which grimsley finds extremely hilarious. she makes him laugh all the time.

-caitlin’s style is very pink and bubbly and has the black cat personality, while shauntal has the black cat style and the bubbly personality. they are gay <3

UH I SHOULD PROBABLY STOP THERE BUT YEAH-

#pokemon #caitlin pokemon #grimsley pokemon #marshal pokemon #shauntal pokemon #robin rants

[jammatown919]

Plus One

This has been sitting in my drafts 99% done for like, four months now, so I figured I'd finish it up and send it out since I haven't posted any writing in a hot minute.

-----

"Cupcake, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"I'm sorry, Vi, but it's been three months. I can't hold her off any longer."

So this was Vi's punishment for falling in love. After seven years wasted in prison and everything that had gone wrong with her sister, she'd finally found a reason to smile again; the woman of her dreams, standing directly behind her as she looked at herself, hardly recognizable, in the mirror. This woman right here was the light of Vi's life, and things were damn near perfect.

If only a formal introduction to Piltovan high society wasn't part of the package deal.

"Do I seriously have to wear this?" Vi adjusted the collar of her impossibly expensive suit, still grimacing at her neat, slicked-back hair which she feared might never be completely gel-free again.

"I offered you a dress," Caitlyn replied, dressed just as formally as Vi but pulling off her sleek navy gown and high heels significantly better. Her hair, pulled into a neat twisted bun, was immaculate without any product, which was just not fair, honestly.

"Then you would've made me wear heels," Vi grumbled. She swore the collar was making a conscious effort to choke her. "Cait, I don't wanna go to this thing."

"I know, love." To her credit, Caitlyn was incredibly sympathetic, and she had valiantly held off her vulture of a mother from trying to present Vi at one of these events for an impressively long time. Unfortunately, though, sympathy didn't get Vi out of this suit or her "responsibility as Caitlyn's partner", as Cassandra had put it.

What a piece of work. 

If not for her insistence, Caitlyn and Tobias would have been fine with Vi continuing to sit out of all the events the Kirammans hosted and attended, but alas, neither of them seemed to know how to tell their matriarch no.

She tried to remind herself this wasn't for Cassandra. It was for Caitlyn, so her mother would get off her back about it and stop starting arguments. It was so the two of them wouldn't have to endure any more awkward dinners or pointed questions about why Vi was "hiding" from all those stuck-up elites. As if she needed a reason. 

"Can we say I'm sick?" Vi asked, reminding herself of a much younger Powder trying to weasel her way out of chores. God, she missed that kid. 

"She'll just make you go to the next one," Caitlyn replied, refocusing Vi before she could think too hard about the sister she'd lost. "It's best to just get it out of the way now. The first one's always the hardest."

First. Implying there would be more to follow. Great. 

"Do we have to stay the whole time? What if I get in there, say hi to everyone I'm supposed to be nice to, and we just go?" 

"The whole thing won't even be two hours," Caitlyn said, and when Vi turned to face her, she was completely serious. "It's just a cocktail party."

"We're getting this dressed up for less than two hours?" Thought it sounded a bit silly to put this much effort into their appearances for just a short event, Vi was infinitely relieved that she'd be out of this damn suit sooner than she'd thought. 

"These things are intentionally short," Caitlyn said, reaching out to fix Vi's tie. "Long enough to catch up with people, but short enough to avoid anyone getting too tired or bored. It won't be that bad, really. It's just drinks, appetizers, and small talk."

"Drinks and appetizers don't sound that bad," Vi replied. "It's the small talk I'm worried about. The hell am I supposed to talk about with these people?" 

"You won't have to say much," Caitlyn promised, gently caressing the side of Vi's the way they both loved. "Just stay with me and follow my lead. It'll be over soon enough."

Vi took a deep breath and nodded, looking herself over in the mirror one last time. She didn't particularly care whether her tie was just so or her hair was perfectly neat, but Cassandra would have a fit if she looked anything less than the very high Kiramman standard of presentable. 

"Ready, love?" Caitlyn reached for Vi's hand, looking at her expectantly. Vi sighed and resigned herself to her fate. 

"As I'll ever be."

---------

As it turned out, Vi shouldn't have been as worried as she'd been back home. No, she should have been far, far more worried. 

Despite the Kirammans' insistence that this was a relatively small affair, there were at least fifty people present when they entered the ballroom where some friend of the family Vi had never met liked to host their guests, and they were all staring at her. 

Some were better at than others, stealing glances when they thought she was looking far enough in another direction that she wouldn't notice, but some were absolutely shameless in their stares. But worst of all were the whispers. Caitlyn had warned her to expect some type of reaction to their relationship, but it seemed her place of origin was the hot topic of the evening. 

She didn't know why she was mad. She' been expecting this. She knew how these people were, and her hot pink hair and face tattoo clearly marked her as other in this room of neat Topsiders, but she'd thought she wouldn't care. That she was above their bullshit opinions and nothing they said would matter to her because she'd heard it all before. 

But this wasn't like the other times. Before, she'd had some sense of pride in herself, knowing she was a daughter of the fissures and the Pilties were on her turf. Now she was on their turf, dressed up as one of them, making an effort to appear as something she wasn't because she loved Caitlyn so goddamn much, and they looked at her much differently than she was used to. Enforcers had looked down on her before, but as the dirty street kid who was probably going to punch them in the face, and that was something she could live with. These people looked at her like some exotic pet the Kirammans had brought to the party. And, in a way, she was. 

They all knew it. Their whispers told her. All they saw her as was the Kiramman girl's dressed up stray. A street thug that may or may not be domesticated, depending on who you asked.  An adventurous fling that never should have been made public. A phase that Caitlyn would hopefully grow out of. 

That last one was what really got to her. The idea that Caitlyn didn't really love her, that this was nothing more than a rich girl looking for a thrill, that their relationship wasn't real. Maybe she could have gritted her teeth through the rest of it, but she wasn't going to stand here and listen to these people who didn't know anything make assumptions and throw around theories about the last good thing in her life. She had to leave, or jaws were going to break. 

All in all, she lasted twenty minutes. 

After that, she was pushing her way out past stupid Pilties who were extremely offended that she'd nudged them aside or forgotten to say "excuse me" or whatever the hell mattered to these people. Caitlyn was quick to follow, softly calling her name and apologizing absently to all of the people she'd shouldered out of her way. 

Things were better out on the patio. Quieter. Two people minding their own business on the opposite side, paying absolutely no attention to Vi finding a spot to lean against a railing or Caitlyn chasing her outside. 

"Vi-" Caitlyn began, but Vi didn't let her get far. 

"I'm not going back in there," she snapped, cringing internally at the vaguely hurt expression on Caitlyn's face. She shouldn't snap at her. It wasn't her fault. "Look, Cupcake, I'm sorry, but this whole thing was a mistake. I know this is important to you, but I don't want to be stared at and talked about like some exotic thing."

"I know," Caitlyn replied softly. She slowly walked toward Vi until they were side by side, in similar positions with their folded arms bracing them against the railing. "I'm sorry I made you come here. I should have known this would happen." 

"You didn't make me," Vi reminded her. "Your mom did."

"I'm a grown woman. I should be able to tell my mother no."

"Guess that makes two of us."

"No, this one isn't on you," Caitlyn said. "You were trying to accommodate us. You had no idea what to expect, but I've been plenty of these things. It was my responsibility to recognize how this would be for you and not put you in this situation."

"Cait-"

"Don't tell me it's not my fault. You said no and I didn't listen." Caitlyn ran a hand through her hair with a heavy sigh. "We don't have to go back in. And I won't make you go to any more events. If my mother has any complaints, she can kindly shove them... well, you get the idea."

Vi snorted in a way the Pilties back inside would probably describe as undignified. 

"You know..." she said, a hint of mischief in her tone. "I think hearing you tell your mom to shove her complaints up her ass would be the perfect way to make this up to me."

"Oh, quiet, you." Caitlyn gave her a light, playful shove. "I have a better way to make it up to you, anyway." She made a show of her eyes traveling up and down Vi's body, completely shamelessly. "If you're open to it, that is?"

"When am I not?" Vi looped an arm around Caitlyn's waist and pulled her in a little closer. "Maybe we should get out of here before I tear that dress off you."

"Lower your voice!" Caitlyn hissed, but she was laughing all the same. 

"Yes, ma'am," Vi replied flirtatiously.

"Save that for later," Caitlyn said in a warning voice. "Come on. Before my mother tries to drag us back inside." 

"Like she could," Vi scoffed, but she took Caitlyn's outstretched hand regardless and followed her to and down the little set of stairs connecting the patio to an unnecessarily large garden. 

It didn't look like guests were supposed to be out here, but Caitlyn walked confidently enough that neither the guests on the patio nor the random gardener working on a flowerbed batted an eye at them as they circled around the impressive property to the giant front entrance where they'd been greeted. 

There were a few people lingering here, but Caitlyn paid them no mind, so neither did Vi. It felt a little weird, like someone was going to call out and stop them any moment. The feeling reminded Vi of sneaking around Vander as a kid, either to go out way too late at night or sneak a sip of something from The Last Drop. What she wouldn't give to hear that old voice scolding her. 

Now, if anyone thought to stop her, it would be nothing but high-pitched Piltie voices, but fortunately, no one cared enough. Vi and Caitlyn were free to walk home in peace. 

"Think anyone'll notice we left?" Vi asked once they were more or less clear of the property. 

"Oh, my mother will have a fit," Caitlyn replied with a tiny, adorable roll of her eyes. "We might not be hearing the end of this for a while." 

"What else is new?" Vi said lightly. "How long do you think we have?"

"By the time we get home, I'd say we'll have a good hour and half of peace."

"Who said anything about peace?" Vi's hand slipped out of Caitlyn's and gently trailed down her thigh. "I thought you were making this up to me."

Caitlyn swatted her hand away, but she couldn't hide her little smile or the pink tint in her cheeks. 

"Of course. How could I forget?" she replied. 

"Y'know..." Vi continued mischievously, "I don't think an hour and a half sounds quite long enough. Why don't we pick up the pace? I'll race you."

"Vi, I'm in heels!" Caitlyn exclaimed as Vi grabbed her arm again and tugged her along. 

"You can run in heels."

"Not these ones!" 

"Guess we know who's winning, then." Vi made a big show of speeding up, but she didn't really take off the way she'd grown up doing. If she'd really wanted to, she could've left Caitlyn in the dust, even in this restrictive outfit, but this was all for fun. 

Besides, she would never dream of missing out on the way Caitlyn tried to hurry along in those horrendous stilts she called shoes. Absolutely adorable. 

"C'mon," she called, with absolutely no regard for the fact that they were jogging down a public street. "First one to bed gets to top."

And suddenly Caitlyn could run on stilts. 

It seemed Vi's night was about to get a whole lot better. 

----

If you enjoyed this fic, please considering reblogging to share it with others! Likes are great but reblogs will make a creator's day.

#arcane league of legends #arcane #piltover's finest #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #arcane vi #my writing

[microwave-core]

Lucky Charm

Karen x Fem! Reader

With an important performance coming up, you find yourself unable to come up with a new routine. Thankfully, Karen is more than happy to help you get some new inspiration. After all, she could never leave you looking so frustrated. 

You’ve always had a love for contests. While most of your friends set their focus on the gym challenge and elite four, you decided to pursue your dream of becoming a coordinator. You loved it, truly, but part of being in a creative field is running into the occasional artist's block, leading you to be stuck on your couch, surrounded by unfinished, crumpled sketches as old performances play faintly in the background.

A big performance was practically just around the corner, and you were completely stumped on your routine. You always planned them far out in advance, but you typically didn’t run into such a huge creative wall. Despite reviewing all of your previous performances, as well as performances carried out by other top coordinators, you just couldn’t think of a new routine. And it was starting to drive you up the wall.

“Come dear, frowning doesn’t suit you.” 

“Ah, Karen! I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“I come home at this time everyday, darling.”

Arceus, she didn’t even need to tease you to make you feel embarrassed. If nearly jumping out of your seat upon hearing her voice wasn’t bad enough, it seems as if you were so caught up in this… mess to notice how late it had gotten, or to even hear the sound of her coming through the door.

“What’s all this?” She picks up the balled-up paper closest to her. “You trying to come up with a new routine?”

“Yeah, but I just can’t seem to come up with any new material.” 

You throw the notebook in your lap to the side, ready to give up for the night, opting to lean further back into the cushions. Karen looks down at you from her position behind the couch, a sweet, albeit teasing, smile on her face.

“Aww, poor thing. We can’t have you getting so frustrated, now can we? How about we take a walk, get you some fresh air?”

“Will that really help?”

“Of course it will! A change of scenery is always nice. Besides, I fear that you’d fuse to the couch if you stayed there for any longer.”

Despite your hesitation to go, finding yourself all too comfortable and warm, you end up going along with her suggestion, putting on your shoes and throwing on a light jacket to protect against the cool chill of the night air.

“Don’t you want to bring a coat, Karen. It’s pretty cold out.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I embrace every bit of the night with open arms.” 

She takes you by the hand as you set off down the sidewalk. The fresh air is nice, but you're not sure the scenery is doing much to give you any stellar ideas, even if it is nice to look at. The stars twinkling brightly in the sky, the gentle sway of the trees and flowers and grass, the sound of pokemon rustling far off in the distance…

The walk is fairly short, and it’s equally silent. You're too distracted admiring the world around you, something that Karen sees and quickly accepts, leaving you to adventure in your own little world. It seems that simply being by your side is enough to chase away her boredom. You didn’t even realize you’ve made it around the block until you're staring at your front door again.

“You really need to pay more attention to your surroundings, love.” She says it with her typical teasing cadene, but she is evidently being sincere.

“Ah, sorry! I was thinking, I guess.”

“Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do wrong. I take it that my little idea helped, hmm?”

“Yeah… I think so!”The smug smile on your girlfriend’s face goes unnoticed, so overjoyed that you finally have ideas to work with again. 

“That’s good. Now, let's get you inside. I’ll get you some tea once you're settled in.”

You hum in agreement, making a beeline to your previous position to jot down as many notes as you can. Karen stares at you from her spot in the kitchen, watching your pen move a mile a minute as the water boils. Few would accuse her of being gentle, given the wild personality she’s known for, but she was as soft and sweet as could be with you. Before you know it, she’s settling in beside you, cups in hand. 

“Thanks a lot, love. I don’t know how I would have found any inspiration without you.”

“You flatter me, dear! I’m only doing what any good girlfriend would. Now, don’t let me stop you from writing, or else that inspiration will go to waste.”

“Oh that, it’s alright, I already got down what I needed to. The finer details can be ironed out later.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. I look forward to seeing it in action!”

“Aww, then you’ll come and see me perform?” 

“Of course I will. I’ll even come in person, wish you good luck backstage before you go on. After all, I have to be your good luck charm.” You gently push her shoulder.

“Come on, that was cheesy!”

“Please, it’s only fitting that I’d be yours, dear.”

“Meaning?”

“You do realize you are my lucky charm, too, right darling? That’s why I bring you to every poker match.” Her quip makes you scoff.

“Lucky? What luck do you need if you're just going to cheat?”

“It’s so I don’t get caught, naturally.” 

You both laugh as if she was telling a joke, but you both know that she’s telling the truth. It isn’t surprising when people are, well, surprised at learning you two are dating, much less get along, but they would surely change their minds if they saw you both now, laughing like a couple of idiots on the couch over hot tea.

“Seriously, why do you cheat? You are already a really gifted player, and people will probably assume you cheat in battles if you get caught.”

“Because it’s more fun, obviously. I play to cure boredom, and what fun is it to lose money?”

Well, she was certainly unbelievable at times, even by your standards, but perhaps that is why you love her so.

#pokemon x reader #karen x reader #fem reader #request stuff

[cheemken]

So Knight, would anyone in any of the Leagues try to leave their position as Gym Leader/Elite Four/Island Kahunas/Trial Captains, after they found out about the Battle of Unova? Either out of fear of potentially being apart of a war, or just not wanting to work for someone who helped (*tried to?) take over Unova

I imagine some of the Champions being angry or even violent if someone actually tried to leave. It would probably be someone from the Kanto, Jhoto, or Galar League as they already had suspicions that Lance and Leon weren’t the greatest of people, and the battle was the last hint that they needed to truly be sure

Not related to my question, but I love the idea of Iris being Diantha’s successor. If we’re going with the bad ending then there is nothing that can stop Diantha from corrupting Iris’ mind. But g o d do I love this concept. Because like you said, Diantha looked at Iris and saw herself in her, and now she thinks she’s doing the world a favour by teaching Iris to be a “hero” just like herself. Diantha thinks she raising Iris just like her mom did for her, but she’s so delusional at this point that she can’t see how she’s passing down her trauma to Iris

You ever watch ATLA? In the scene where Azula was given the title of Fire Lord, and she thought her dad was stepping down as ruler. But then Ozai tells her that he made a new title, one above the title of Fire Lord called the Phoenix King, where he will rule over all nations. I imagine something similar with Iris and Diantha. Where Iris is given the title of Kalos Champion, and she has authority over both lands that belong to the Kalos League/Government. But Diantha created a new title above that of Champion, where she has complete control over every single region and their leagues/government

(*I’m not sure which direction we’re going with the story, do the Unova kids win, does Diantha win? Or a different direction you’d rather?)

Ngl, I think other than the Indigo League and the Galar League not trusting their Champions anymore, the Paldea League would probs also dip the fuck outta there. Like they already don't like Geeta that much, and they know how loyal their Champion is to Diantha so ofc that's gon set em off and make em think that Geeta might use them as pawns as well, they know how she battles, she sacrifices five of her pkmn before letting her strongest Mon in the field, who's to say she won't do that w them too

But damn tho right it's a cool mental image ncmdnd hahaha idk stuff much abt ATLA tbh, but I am familiar w some of the scenes and such, like the popular scenes, so at least I know that hahaha

That's cool tho ncmxnx like Iris having that kinda power, but Diantha is still, and always will be, above her. That no matter what, Diantha really doesn't see her as an equal, despite her claims that she does. And it's the fact that Iris knows she can't do shit anymore, Kalos is her new home, but despite being its Champion, she fucking knows one wrong move and Diantha will have her executed. But it'd also be fun if Drasna and Iris meets and Drasna tells her how Diantha shouldn't even be like that™. Drasna telling Iris of Diantha's past, and Iris finding out why Dia is like that, but then she hears stories of young Diantha who only wanted to be a hero, who has the sky in her eyes shining brightly with such a hope that it was blinding, how she only wanted to help the people in need, to be seen as a hero of Kalos. But, that didn't happen ofc. Iris asked why. Why didn't Diantha become an actual hero? And that broke Drasna, "because I wasn't there when she needed me the most.. I had so much hope, so much faith, in a child who I knew needed guidance. I think we all did.."

And for Iris it's all adding up yknow, that Diantha could've been a much better person if she just had someone there to really guide her in her life, to actually tell her what's right and what's wrong, but no one ever did that, not even Drasna. Diantha never faced any consequences, even until at this point, while yes the people fear her now, but she always did say fear is easier to control than defiance. And she's now in control of everything.

That's fucking terrifying tho cause at any given moment, Diantha could legit just end the fucking world hahah like that's scary man if you think abt it having to bow down to someone who you know isn't in the right mind anymore and anyone could be pulling the final trigger and they wouldn't know shit until it's too late, like that'd fuck up anyone

Anyways w the ending bits, I always imagine the Unova kids winning w the power of friendship, bc when I wrote those concepts of Diantha coming back to Kalos, she lost that battle w the Unova kids, and it really took a toll on her mentally and physically, as she also got hit by Kyurem's attacks, ofc she was almost bleeding to death when she got back home. But it's also cool to think that one of the E4 or the Leaders actually got through Geeta, and made her see just what Diantha has become, made her see how she's going to die if she doesn't stop. And that's probs a wake up call for Geeta really, that her bestfriend is gonna die if she continues, and she doesn't want that.

And just bcmxnx ough idk fucking imagine tho like Diantha so heavily wounded and so are the Unova kids, but they look at least a bit better than her, bc they had each other to protect, Diantha had no one. And just cnxmnx Geeta getting in between them as Diantha was trying to get Yveltal or even GiraCynthia to attack, only for Geeta to block her view of the Unova kids.

"what do you think you're doing? Step aside."

And for once in their lives, Geeta didn't listen to her. "That's enough, Diantha."

God that fucked Diantha up, Geeta almost never calls her by her full name, always her lil nicknames, their endearments, Geeta never used that voice w her and it made her feel a lot of things she didn't want to feel atm. "Geeta, step aside. Please.." and god she sounded so desperate, she doesn't wanna hurt her. And just chmdndn Geeta sounded to stern and disappointed and it messed her up even more.

"Diantha, please, that's enough. Look at you, you're hurt." Then she walks towards Dia, and Dia was on edge, her grip on a pokeball was tight, almost as if she could break it. And Geeta just takes her hands gently, and wipes off the blood on her face, "that's enough, Dia.. you lost.. and.. a hero keeps their words, don't they?"

And man Dia was conflicted af now too, cause for one she refuses to lose, how could she even lose to a bunch of trainers that are below her?? How did they even beat her??? And then.. then she looks at Geeta, ever so loyal, but.. but now she's looking at Geeta's dark blue eyes, like the sea, it was so easy to get lost in them, and then smth in her kinda snapped, she screamed, frustrated, and she shoved Geeta off her, "Gardevoir!" She called out, and they all thought she'd attack Geeta, only for her Gardevoir to teleport her and her team away from all of them. But Geeta knows where she is.

Geeta turns slightly to the Unova kids, "I'll make sure nothing like this happens again. Worry not, I'll be there with her." Then she calls back all her pkmn, leaving the league to search for Diantha.

But also did word really go out tho idk, but I always imagined it as smth only the Unova League and the Champions know abt, bc ofc, despite Iris and Hilbert winning, they know what the others, Diantha especially, are capable of, and if Drayden was anything to go by, then they know they aren't lying when they say they could just kill them and make it look like a natural death or an accident. I do wanna say that maybe,, like really just maybe, some of the Unovan people know, the bw2 kids probs, Ingo and Emmet too, and probs even the professors, but the rest of Unova doesn't

Idk that's how I always imagined it to be, bc as much as the Unova League wants others to know, they also know how risky it fucking was considering that for one, Diantha has the Pokémon version of Death and the Devil on her side, even tho they won this round who's to say Diantha would just give up, and if Geeta can get through her too and actually pacify her enough to give up Yveltal and start anew

#im like.. thinking now how the other champions would react to that hahaha #but anyways what ending do you prefer and such hahah #its always fun to play around w all the concepts abt the different endings hahah #since theres a lot you can work w too its dope to see all the possibilities and such hahah #plus yknow iris being dia's successor is a dope as fuck mental imagine cnmdndmd #but i also really want some stuff abt geeta and dia so yeah hahah #villain champions au #jerseyk112 #an ask and an answer

[katisconfused]

Distorted Reflections Chapter 3

Ao3 link

1 | 2 | 4 | 5

Chapter text and accompanying pictures are under the cut.

After much delay I have finally updated this

Astrid was sure to never miss any of Cynthia’s broadcast matches, even if it was one where she gave her opponent a massive handicap. For this match, Cynthia was going against someone going for the position of Sinnoh’s junior champion, a position only given to a child who could clear the Elite Four using a designated secondary team not made up entirely of their aces. But, Cynthia used an absolutely brutal strategy of leading with a Bibarel of all things, and then straight in to the one carry over from her real team, Garchomp. The high stamina normal/water type was a truly devious lead, because it often baited the opponent into using an electric type. Astrid couldn’t help but think as she watched the battle how she would use such counters if she was battling her. She cursed the fact that she didn’t try to become a Pokémon trainer sooner, and wished that one day she could be the kind of trainer that could put up a real fight against her, too. But as things stood, she’d never catch up to the literal children who had a good 10 years on her to grow even more. 

When Astrid woke up in a bed in the Medical Corps’ office, many people rushed in to see how she was doing and congratulate her on successfully quelling the rampaging noble. Apparently, Kleavor was doing fine now, and the Pearl Clan was very grateful for her assistance. She was a bit shocked to find out it was apparently Volo of all people who had come to her rescue after passing out, treating her wounds and carrying her back to the camp. Maybe she had him all wrong. She'd have to thank him the next time she saw him.

She still felt like shit though, and it would probably be awhile before she could go back out for survey work. While her compensation for the task was generous, she would probably burn through it while recovering. Even her old job would have been less stressful on her body. She wondered if the Construction Corps had any need for an elaborate painting of the things they were constructing. 

Lian came in person to thank her, and a similar conversation as with Mai came up about "almighty Sinnoh", and she once again showed a picture on her phone, this time of Palkia. He reacted with similar delight and it gave her a somewhat devious idea. She went to work making woodcuts for prints of images of the gods of Sinnoh. She made one for each of the creation trio and Arceus, mostly making prints for Dialga and Palkia, then set up a booth with a sign that said "Images of the almighty Sinnoh for sale" outside her house, but not putting the images on display until someone asked for one. The Pearl and Diamond Clan members flocked to her, and she handed out the appropriate god to each. Everyone loved them. Astrid wasn't just selling art, she was selling validation and was absolutely making a killing doing so. She'd feel bad about the manipulation, but hey, everyone was happy, so what was there to feel bad about. 

“What is this? Do I have some competition in sales now?”

Volo once again had managed to sneak up on her.

“I don't think the Gingko Guild sells art, do they? I don't think I'll affect your income,” she teased. 

“Why the art shop?” he asked. 

“Well, as you apparently are aware, thank you very much for your assistance by the way, I was injured quite badly in the process of quelling the noble, and as a result have to find some less exertive work to do in the meantime.”

“It was no trouble at all; I’m glad you are recovering well.”

Another customer came up, this time from the Diamond Clan, and she handed him a Dialga print for 500p. 

“Interesting little hussle you have here. You made two different prints for maximum customer satisfaction.”

“Yup, do you want in? I could give you some stuff in your bag and mark up for a profit. Or maybe you'd like a print for yourself?”

He laughed. “But I am not from a clan, how will you know which to hand me?”

“Well, for those cases, I have been asking people to tell me about their image of the almighty Sinnoh first... Buuut, I have a different offer for you. If I guess correctly, you have to drop your fake retail personality when we're alone. How about it?”

Volo contemplated that for a minute. She'd get it wrong no matter which of the two he was handed. He smirked. “Well, I came to check on you and hopefully discuss the plates you seem to have obtained from your trials, but I suppose I can play along with your little game first.”

“Excellent. I look forward to having a not fake conversation with you.” She flipped through the prints under the booth.

“You're quite confident you'll guess right.”

“I am.” At least if the resemblance to Cynthia isn't a coincidence. She thought. The champion had infodumped a great deal about her family history and the town of her residence over the years, and Astrid absorbed what she would excitedly tell her about history far more than any school lesson. 

If Volo was the ancestor…

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “You, Volvo , strike me as a man of higher tastes—”

Astrid pulled out one of the dozen or so prints she made of Arceus. Volo's mask slipped in surprise, betraying what she had in fact picked correctly.

“I got it right, didn't I?” She clapped her hands together gleefully. “I didn't make too many of them because I knew they'd be less popular, but figured a couple people would actually know which Pokémon the almighty Sinnoh actually is.”

It was a bit distressing to Volo she had picked right at all, but even moreso that combined with her "related to a clan" line. “How did you know I would know who Arceus is?”

“Well, for one, you just said you wanted to talk about the plates, which are related to Arceus and not the other three options, so there was a good chance that you knew about it. But, mostly you bear a striking resemblance to someone I knew who was a descendant of the Celestica people who worshipped it.”

Well, she had certainly succeeded in breaking his facade, deal or not. His brain was a bit short-circuited from that revelation, and it took a minute for him to form a response. “Even then, that doesn’t mean I still would be devoted to Arceus.” 

“WELL, if you’re disappointed in your god and you’re in need of a god who is more likely to listen…” Astrid went through her prints again and handed him one. “I actually do have a good suggestion for that: my personal preference.” 

He probably shouldn’t be surprised after the jacket, to be handed an image of Giratina, but it felt no less ironic for it to be suggested he turn to it in frustration over Arceus when that was exactly what he had done. 

“When I was a kid, the Sunnyshore Shinx baseball team hadn’t won in 86 years, so as a joke I asked Giratina to make them win because like, chaos and stuff. And then they won. It granted my stupid request. Honestly I think it’s mostly just bored and lonely and happy for the attention, but having Giratina’s blessing has brought about most of my good fortune! Its protection is why I was able to get away with not having my own Pokémon until recently. “ Astrid said brightly, only for her smile to fade to a dejected frown. 

“The tattoos on my arm are supposed to channel its power, and up until the moment before I was brought here it was working well. But since then I haven’t been able to feel its presence at all. When I call out to it now, there’s no response. It wasn’t scary to rush in and stand up to alpha Pokémon, because I thought I would be able to avoid damage due to its support, but no amount of praying has helped, and facing Kleavor was absolutely terrifying. It seems Arceus can grant me the same protection now, but it didn’t freely give it until I cried out that I would fail if it didn’t. Even if I have its blessing instead now, it still feels like Giratina has rejected and abandoned me, and I don’t know why.”

Volo was caught completely off guard by the painfully relatable confession. Especially since he could guess the reason why; he was the one being supported by Giratina. It couldn’t come to her aid because it was with him. This woman he was bitterly jealous of having Arceus’ favor didn’t even appreciate it because in some twisted reflection, wanted the blessing he had instead. 

Astrid rummaged through her bag and pulled the plates out so he could look at them. He was jogged from his thoughts by the faint clunk of them being placed on the booth in front of him. “Anyway, you said you wanted to discuss the plates I got right?” 

“I see…” he mumbled after picking them up. “There are some letters carved into them. This one says “Where all creation was born, that is the being's place of origin.” It seems to be a phrase from a very old myth. And you got these from the Lords?”

“Yeah, for clearing the alpha out in Deertrack Heights and calming Kleavor’s frenzy.”

“Certainly tasks worthy of recognition!” he said with his usual smile. She gave him a blank look, reminding him that she wouldn't be tolerating his hollow perky attitude anymore. “... Sorry, habit.”

“Regardless, this is very exciting! It’s my guess that you will find more plates like these scattered across Hisui if you continue like this. If we gather them all and decipher the scripts on them, we may uncover something absolutely amazing!” Unlike the last smile, this one seemed to be sincere; it reminded her of Cynthia’s excitement over discovering things about Sinnoh’s history. It was familiar and comforting. Arceus didn’t specifically ask for her to gather the plates, but they seemed to make Volo happy, and she liked seeing authentic smiles from him. 

“I’ll get right to work on that then.” She winked at him. “Enjoy your prints!” Volo walked off, still trying to process everything she had just said to him. 

Once far outside the village, Volo let the remainder of his fake persona fall and started to laugh hysterically at the absurdity. Giratina curiously crawled out from a small rift to see what he was up to. He faced the draconian spector. 

“It seems Arceus’ choice in a chosen one may come back to bite it, because it seems she is quite fond of you.” He handed the print over to the huge Pokémon, who took it from him with its clawed tentacles. She wasn’t wrong about it getting little attention, and depictions of it were rare, it seemed to be pleased by her artwork of it. “I may have to revise our plan for revenge. It seems like a waste to simply use and dispose of her when there is the far more delicious option of turning her against Arceus is on the table. If I’m patient, there’s sure to be an opportunity to take advantage of this.” 

Volo still didn’t like her much. Even if the sentiment was similar to his own feelings, he couldn’t help but be angry that she didn’t appreciate Arceus’ gifts he so desperately wanted, and he certainly was not any less jealous then he was before. But it was also true that she essentially was paying for them by suffering the same cursed existence as him, and that was enough he could probably tolerate her enough to interact with her without fake smiles at least. He contemplated the best way to make use of her.

☆

    Once Astrid was healed up enough to get back to business, it wasn’t long before the next major mission fell at her feet. A cute redhead greeted her as she left her house and introduced herself as Arezu of the Diamond Clan. Apparently Ursaluna, another Lord, was frenzied. The warden for it wasn’t present for the meeting with Kamado; she would be meeting with Calaba, Ursaluna’s warden, once she got to the Crimson Mirelands. Rei gave her a quick rundown of the area, and he directed her to the nearby Solaceon Ruins. She immediately noticed the area was a bit of a pain to traverse due to the mucky nature of the swampy ground. Even Wyrdeer was slowed by the poor terrain, which, combined with the lack of cover, was a massive pain for avoiding wild Pokémon.

She entered the dimly lit structure, which was noticeably less ruin-like than the area outside and was littered with broken pillars being swallowed by the mud. She spoke to Calaba, and apparently the reason why she wasn’t in attendance for the meeting was because she didn’t want her help. The old woman didn’t seem to trust her, or the Galaxy Team in general. Once again, she was simply an “outsider”.

‘What am I even here for then? ’ she thought with a sigh. She turned to leave, only to bump right into Volo. He always seemed to suddenly appear near her, just out of nowhere. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised to run into you in some ruins huh, Volvo?”

“Ah, smartass! Taking the ‘running into’ part a bit literally, are we?” he said with a smirk that seemed to say ‘ this is the honesty you asked for isn’t it’? Honestly, the snark was still better than the blatant fakeness. “How about you show me the strength that could quell even a frenzied lord?”

“Well, I left the torque wrench at home, so you’ll have to settle for a Pokémon battle.”

Volo’s Togepi had gotten quite a bit stronger, and he had the new addition of a Gible (the realization that she would in the future likely be facing a Garchomp as formidable as Cynthia’s made Astrid sweat a bit). But she had spent weeks preparing for Kleavor, truly putting that backstrike to good use on Alpha Pokémon and taking out ones a good ten or more levels above her team to gain experience rapidly. The Gible did successfully defeat her Quilava, but was subsequently 1HKO’d by the Alpha Bibarel she caught. 

“Still no match for you, it seems…” Volo said with a sigh, seemingly a bit disappointed. “Such prodigious strength. Now, let me just heal up your Pokémon… Now, I think that settles it. I must ask your help in retrieving the stolen Wall Fragment. With your skill, it should be a cinch!”

“Stolen Wall Fragment?”

“Yes, exactly! Some bandits pillaged the Solaceon Ruins and made off with a fragment of the wall engravings! Have you not heard of the notorious Miss Fortunes? They’re a trio of bandits that have even hit us Ginkgo Guild merchants more than a few times! Not the kind of regulars I like to have, let me tell you! Mistress Cabala is doing everything she can to regain the fragment, but at 99 years old... It's a bit hard for her to chase leads all over the place. So what do you say, kind madam? Why not help find the fragment for the Warden? Oh—naturally I’ll be happy to lend you a hand! Those sisters swiped my wares, too, and I’m no Ginkgo Guild merchant if I take that lying down! And far be it from me to let them just get away with vandalizing the precious ruins of this region! You know, I did see the remains of a campfire near the Mirelands camp. Perhaps worth checking out?”

Ninety nine? Geez, given that, she was in amazing shape. Astrid had run out of grandparents by her mid-teens and couldn’t even imagine lasting that long, nevermind being able to hold a position like Clan Warden in the harsh environment of Hisui. She glanced over at the fractured wall. “Sounds good, let's go.”

He blinked in surprise. “Both of us?”

“You said they took stuff from you too, right? Why wouldn’t you come? You want them back, right?”

“Ah yes, I suppose…” Volo wasn’t actually expecting to be invited, but he couldn’t really think of an excuse not to go with her. He was planning on just having her do the dirty work for him, and sitting back and waiting for her to bring it back.

“So, what does this Wall Fragment look like?”

“Just a chunk of stone with some ancient writing on it. Without it the plaque is incomplete and illegible.” Astrid thought about flipping through textbooks full of images of damaged unreadable ruins. Yeah, probably would cause a lot of future frustration. “Is something like that really even valuable to anyone but the keeper of the ruins?”

“Well, I’d say all ruins are valuable!” he said with a cheery look, this time seemingly authentic. “But yes, it’s written in ancient language, so even if they had managed to take the whole thing, it’s likely to be indecipherable to most people. A small chunk of the greater message wouldn’t be terribly valuable for a collector of such things.” He stopped, then motioned over to a stretch of land between the nearby river bank and the base camp. “The camp was up ahead here.”

They walked up to the campfire to look around.

“Now who might you be? Not some stray travelers, from the looks of you.”

They turned around to see three women in torn clothing. “There’s only one reason people go poking around here in the middle of nowhere. You’re after us three, aren’t you?!” said one that bore a striking resemblance to a gym leader from Astrid’s time. 

They introduced themselves as Charm, Clover, and Coin. Coin and Clover sent out their Pokémon, a Toxicroak and Abomasnow respectively. 

“You take the Toxicroak and I’ll take the Abomasnow?” “A double battle? How unconventional...” Volo said with a smirk. “Not where I’m from.” Astrid grinned back.

It seemed that the technique-based moves used here made it easier to avoid splash damage to a teammate. Cynder and Gible easily dispatched both enemy Pokémon with solid Flame Wheel and Bulldoze attacks.

“Hmph; the Galaxy Team continues to spoil things for me, even after I’ve left. Take the blasted fragment and go. Just leave us alone!” Coin said with a huff. 

“The weird writing on it made us think the stupid thing was some kind of treasure. But it turned out to be a worthless slab of junk. Tch! All that effort for nothing!” Clover added in a spitting tone, clearly annoyed.

“Tell me— why were you even seeking us out? What sent you on this path?” Charm asked Astrid.

“Because trust is something earned through action, not simply through promises that could come up empty.” Her answer seemed to surprise everyone, even Volo.

“Goodness, how selfless of you — to go so far out of your way for the sake of another. Not all of us have the luxury of offering such unrelenting kindness to strangers. For some of us, simply surviving another day takes all that we have. And I’ve got scores to settle with the Galaxy Team… Which now includes you! Remember what those ancient verses tell us… ’Why is it, on days of spring, beneath the soft caress of the sun, the blossoms tremble and fall, spirits lashed by uncertainty?’ Your days are numbered, Galaxy fool.” And with that the three of them ran off.

“Ancient verses?” Astrid asked quizzically.

“Ah, yes — there are a series of old poems that have been occasionally unearthed about Hisui; that may possibly be what she refers to?” Volo replied. He seemed to know more than he was saying, but she decided not to pick at that for now.

“Oh, interesting. Maybe I’ll come across them at some point.” Astrid picked up the Wall Fragment and looked at the engraving. “‘OUCH LIVES.’ Wow, profound. Also, really appropriate thing to be carried around by people called the ‘Miss Fortunes’ I guess.”

“...You can read the ancient language?” He had not been expecting that.

“Passably. I struggle with remembering a couple of letters, but can generally guess based on context.”

“You sure are full of surprises.” 

“I try not to be too boring.” Astrid stuffed the fragment back in her bag. “Time to head back and give this to Calaba.”

“Good luck. I’m well aware of Calaba’s reputation—they say she’s stubborn, too old-fashioned and so on…But she’s given the Pearl Clan all she has, ever since she was young. She lived her prime years here in the Hisui region, trusting in the guidance of the almighty Sinnoh. I don’t think she hates the Diamond Clan or the Galaxy Team—rather, I think she simply loves the Pearl Clan very, very much.” 

It felt inappropriate to outright ask, but she wondered if Volo had similar feelings about the clans in Hisui himself. “It’s hard to trust the guidance of a god that never actually gives you meaningful feedback, but I guess that’s something we all have in common huh?”

“I suppose so. Anyway, I do hope you’re able to calm Ursaluna’s frenzy, Astrid! A raging Pokémon in the area definitely isn’t good for business, I assure you.”

“See you around! It was fun. We make a good team, don’t you think? I’m lucky to have such a reliable rival.” She said with a smile. “I’ll tell you if I come across anything else interesting.”

“Thank you; it’s been a pleasure.” That was surprisingly not a lie. He didn’t get a chance to simply chat about his interests much like today. We make a good team don’t you think? Yes, they did. Perhaps a team to bring the world to its knees in the future. All he had to do was wield her like his Pokémon. He was delighted by the thought. First he must find more Pokémon, though. With her vast selection, he needed a full, strong team to hold his own against her own might. Otherwise, he may end up the one being controlled, and that simply would not do.

☆

Astrid returned to Calaba to give her the fragment, the old woman was surprised and asked why she’d go out of the way for a stranger, and honestly she didn’t have a good answer, just that it felt like the right thing to do. It hardly felt like “out of the way” when her main overall job was meticulously searching for and cataloging Pokémon. 

Calaba returned the fragment to the wall. “Let me read what it says. ‘All lives touch other lives to create something anew and alive..’”

“That makes so much more sense than ‘ouch lives’”

Calaba laughed. “Oh you can read it too? I guess the small piece made its own message. ‘Ouch’ indeed. I suppose it means people helping each other, like you helped retrieve the fragment. I’ve read this passage many, many times, but this is the first time I’ve really understood what it means. Maybe this is the almighty Sinnoh’s guidance?”

She asked Astrid her name, and asked her to help with Ursaluna, telling her to meet her at the sludge mound when ready.

☆

Calaba was waiting in the center of the arena with her biberal, and pulled out her flute to summon Ursaluna. Astrid was surprised when it waited patiently for her to send out her Pokémon, then engaged in a fairly normal battle. Calaba gave it some foul smelling medication and it seemed fine.

But it was strange, he didn’t seem frenzied to begin with, maybe just a bit agitated, no glow or anything. Had Arezu been deceiving them somehow? Calaba had Astrid play her flute for Ursaluna to allow it to come when called as well, and was gifted the earth plate. Ursaluna was a lot slower than Wyrdeer, but could find buried objects underground. 

When Astrid got back to the village, Adaman and Beni were waiting in Kamado’s office discussing the other lord of the mirlands, Lilligant, also being frenzied, and Arezu hiding it.It was decided she should search for Arezu with Ursaluna, and then deal with Lilligant as with kleavor. Apparently she should follow the smell of Beni’s cooking to her. 

It took a bit of time to catch her scent, but eventually Astrid was able to track her down near the Diamond settlement. It was a good thing she was easy to track, as she was injured while trying to make balms for Lilligant. She confessed that Ursaluna had gotten some pollen from Lilligant on it, which was the cause of the not quite frenzied state it was in. Calaba took the job of caring for her as Astrid went to face the lord. 

Lilligant was tough, sending out waves of energy that could knock you off your feet, but with Arceus’ protection it wasn’t nearly as bad as dealing with kleavor. Astrid was able to keep her distance until openings to send her Pokémon in. She only ended up taking minor damage that would probably only require a day or two of recovery. She started heading towards camp. It was a nice night, a full moon lighting the sky. The stars here with no light pollution were beautiful, an endless expanse of twinkling pinpricks against the deep black backdrop… She would have to keep her eye out for murkrow in the area though, given they’d blend right into it.

“I see you managed to stay conscious this time.” 

Astrid spun around to see Volo. “Did you come to rescue me again? How sweet.”

“I couldn’t just let my favorite customer be stomped to death now could I?”

“You know you haven’t even sold me anything before.” She teased. 

“We still don’t know what’s causing the lightning that frenzies these Pokémon… But you just keep rescuing them, without even a hint of trepidation despite being so badly injured last time!”

She snorted. “It helped I wasn’t taking direct hits this time. It felt a lot easier.”

“At this rate you might even change the entire course of history here in Hisui…I definitely want to be in the good books of someone like that.”

Her mind went to Cynthia and wondered how much her interactions with Volo would effect her… Monopolizing too much of his attention might threaten her existence entirely. But honestly now that he had dropped the fake smiles she enjoyed spending time with him enough that it would be hard to resist taking opportunities to capture it. 

“I’m guessing you want to see the plate I just got” He nodded eagerly and she handed it over. 

“The power of the Plates are shared among Pokémon.” He read. “I wonder if this refers to Pokémon typing.”

“It could also be that they are literally sharing the plates the way they are with me, but I think you’re right about that and that carrying these plates probably enhance those abilities.” She was pretty sure Cynthia had at least one and gave it to her Pokémon as a hold item for that reason. 

“Well if it was literal then would that make you a Pokémon?”

“Yeah actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’m actually a Zoroark in disguise. Don’t tell anyone, they might fire me from the corps and take my Pokémon license away.”

Volo smirked wickedly.. “Maybe I should try to catch you in a ball and add you to my team so I can just collect the Plates myself.”

“Oh? So you'll fight the nobles yourse-” Astrid responded in a laughing tone before grabbing Volo and pulling him behind some bushes. “PINK!”

He was utterly confused by her exclamation until she motioned for him to turn around. Cloudpool Ridge had a dense enough population of murkrow to often have an alpha present, and today was no different… Except this Honchkrow was a brilliant shade of pink instead of the usual black, standing out in jarring contrast to the more muted hues of the foliage around it. He was vaguely aware of alternative colorization in Pokémon, but never saw something so drastic before. 

“I am going to catch it.”

“You’re going to catch the alpha? Just like that?”

“YES.” 

Volo sighed. “You’re insane, and I’m not going near the thing, my Pokémon can’t handle it. Can yours even?”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, I will just use-” She mimicked him and wagged her finger in his face. “Your special backstrike technique.”

Volo gave her an annoyed glare. “Arceus clearly has questionable judgment granting its blessing to you.”

She waved him off to go sneak up on the Honchkrow. “Sure does! It might end up having regrets about that.” 

He took a moment to process the exchange. He really shouldn’t have said that outloud. He could potentially pass it off as being excessively belligerent in response to her demanding he stop forcing politeness, but there was still a major risk that if she was seeing through his smile that she could also recognize his sincere distaste of her. But he never expected her to agree . 

He watched as Astrid threw some berries out from a hiding place in the grass, luring the Pokémon over. Closer, closer, she waited for it to turn to head back to its original position before nailing it with a pokeball. 

“Lev! Thunder wave!” The luxray obliged, the stunned bird staggered in midair. “Thunder fang!” The honchkrow shook itself from the initial stunning from the backstrike, but the paralysis effectively clipped its wings enough to make it too slow to react. “One more time! Agile style!” The second the attack landed Astrid threw the ball, the puff of smoke came out to signal the successful capture. 

“Who’s my little catch MVP, That’s right! It’s you!” She said fluffing up Lev’s mane. The Pokémon purred and nuzzled her. “You did great buddy!”

Volo walked up to them. “Congratulations, you caught your fluorescent bird, are you satisfied?” 

She beamed brighter than the Honchkrow. “Yes, thank you.” She returned Lev to his ball and got up and brushed herself off.  “Ok lets go.” 

He looked back at her. Behind her the sun was rising casting the sky in color similar to the freshly caught Pokémon. Then the flowering bush behind her moved… and stood up. It wasn’t a bush after all, but a groggy alpha roserade. He went pale.

Astrid noticed his face. “What’s wrong?” The Pokémon behind her roared, knocking her off her feet to the ground stunning her. Volo grabbed her, she wasn’t exactly light, but far less to carry then his stupid merchant’s bag. He scooped her up and ran towards the diamond settlement. 

Once they were safely away, Volo slumped down to the ground and groaned. He let her slip from his arms into his lap and pushed his already half falling off hat off his head as he raked his fingers through his hair before holding his head in his hand and exasperatedly saying. “I can’t believe there were two alphas there. You’ll be the death of me with these antics.”

“Weren’t you literally saying you were going to shove me in a pokeball and collect the plates yourself when I spotted the Honchkrow? How were you planning to get them from the lords if you can’t handle normal alphas?” She teased. 

He glared again. “Not everyone is granted Arceus’ blessing and protection.” He spat out angrily.

It was becoming pretty obvious what the source of the negative feelings he had been hiding behind that smile of his were, that was the second time he snapped at her over Arceus’s blessing. It reminded her of a wounded animal, lashing out when someone got too close to its injury. She couldn’t really blame him for being jealous, even with said blessing she still couldn’t help but feel hurt by Giratina’s silence. Was there anything she could do to help him?

“Aww, don’t be like that. Why don’t I draw the runes onto your arm too and see if it works for you too?”

This suggestion seemed to knock him senseless for a moment, dispelling his bitterness with shock, before he attempted to laugh it off. “I doubt Arceus would have any interest in helping me, so I’d probably just die.” 

“Come on, let’s give it a shot. We’ll test first with something less dangerous like one of our own Pokémon” She picked up his hat and put it back on him lightly, taking the excuse to run her thumb over his cheek. “I won’t let you get hurt, I promise.”

Volo didn’t understand. His mask was off, He was responding to her with snark. Why was she still acting this way? If anything she was acting kinder than she had before it had been dropped. Was she that dense? Was this a trap? Had she figured out his long term ill intentions and was trying to get rid of him? No, that really didn’t make sense. All he had let slip so far was his jealousy. Maybe she was trying to butter him up for her to try to manipulate him . 

He averted his eyes before mumbling. “I’ll think about it…” She smiled in response, before slipping off his lap and holding her hand out to help him up. He took it. 

“Well, I should get going and report my success to the Professor back at the base camp. Sorry for putting you in danger again…” She said with a bit of guilt.

He sighed. “Well, I suppose I’d want to be in the good books of someone crazy enough to take such actions anyway.” He smiled a bit, looking more tired than happy. “Stay in touch, friend.” He gave a light tap of his fist on her arm before leaving again. 

As she watched him go, Astrid couldn’t help but wish just a bit, that she could have him along for the ride more often.

#PLA #Pokemon legends Arceus #Volo #distorted reflections #Volvo from my games

[crystalelemental]

“alphakuriboh: To be fair, her design isn’t great and she’s a chairman character after two straight generations of the chairman being the main villain. So. That’s a thing. Plus her ace is mostly prevalent in the late game limited access area, which is a bit of a Hmm. I don’t personally trust her myself lol.”

Isn’t it technically three?  I guess Lysandre wasn’t really a chairman specifically, but major company owner.  It fits.  I do love that they set up the idea that Geeta found her Glimmora down in Area Zero, though.  I want a bit more of that, but I’m not quite sold on it being an antagonist thing, so much as...Geeta’s been down here.  The only even implied connecting point is that the professor mentions securing funding from someone and doesn’t really specify who.

“megazardx2: I think it stems from her 1) having Glimmora as her ace, and 2) not having much of a character, and the one key trait she does have (which is that she’s kind of a slave driver) makes many of her colleagues hate her. Plus, her design feels very…ethereal, in a way?  I’m not 100% on board the “Geeta is gonna be the antagonist for the DLC” train myself, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

And to be entirely fair, I wouldn’t mind.  It’d be more interesting than how she is, by a mile.  But when I mean she’s vilified, I don’t mean as in, people think she’s secretly an antagonist.  I mean people kinda ascribe negative traits to her that don’t...track with anything?

Like, the slave driver one is a good example.  Head of a company, always going to be a component of that, but the only two that ever indicate there’s anything significant to that are Larry and Penny.  In the case of Larry, we have things like his general put-upon nature and known tendency to work tons of overtime and crunch, but also the order to use a different type while acting as an Elite Four member.  But after his rematch, he does express that there was some validity to the idea of switching up your usual every now and again, and that his boss told him to stop taking so much overtime, and that he’s taking the rest of the day as a result.  That...isn’t strictly the mentality of a task-master, and is honestly a pretty positive quality that implies Geeta’s looking out for her people, and doesn’t want them overworking themselves, or becoming too stuck in routine and depressed.

As for Penny...the only reason Penny’s working for Geeta at all is because Geeta didn’t pursue legal action for hacking their system and stealing funds.  Geeta offers a job instead, looking to cultivate what Penny’s good at for something that isn’t criminal activity.  The only time Geeta’s ever extreme is honestly my favorite scene of hers, where she just kinda brightly pushes “Thanks in advance” on Penny’s attempted refusal.  Which isn’t really a bad thing, in my book.  Like, Penny, sweetie, you do in fact owe her.  When she tells you that it’s time to start on that job she hired you for, the answer is, decisively, “Yes ma’am,” not attempting to complain that you wanted to just watch anime all day.  That’s not even Geeta being a task-master, that’s just having a job.

The only other character I remember expressive dislike of her was Ryme, which was really more about feeling disrespected that Geeta sent you instead of coming herself as initially promised.

And I dunno, I think people latched onto the idea of Larry being depressed as Geeta’s fault because she’s the direct superior?  Despite having proof from Larry himself that she at least tries to make him take time off?  And it feels like it’s extended outward, because I saw a take that Geeta’s just using Nemona for her talents and would toss her away at the first chance, as if Geeta hasn’t been hopeful that you’ll keep up with Nemona solely for Nemona’s sake and is like...actively happy for the kid and helps cultivate a really meaningful memory with the whole “pick a good battle stage” thing?  Geeta...really doesn’t ping as a bad person.  And I feel like some of the takes starting to go around about her just don’t mesh with how she’s been shown to be in really odd ways.

#alphakuriboh #megazardx2

[oakhold-cheerios]

Long review of my time with Pokemon Violet

Scarlet/Violet spoilers down below

I love the game. These sets of games are on the same wavelength as Pokemon BW/BW2 in terms of the characters and their motives.

I want to say hats off to Dir. Clavell. Director Clavell is a great ‘how you do fellow kids?’ old character in the game, actually, because he is one who just wants to see their pupils flourish and be great at studying in the academy. And when he heard about the whole Team Star and what went awry with them, instead of blatantly expelling them for their mishaps, he took what he heard about Team Star, what’s up with Penny and her friends, and, in in the best and most constructive way, gave them the opportunity to actually make the Academy a much more awesome place by turning their bases into training grounds for any student who wants to be the very best like no one ever was. He wants to keep up with the younger generation by having a chat about what their passions are. The whole Treasure Hunt thing was amazing. You’re doing great, Director. 10/10 such a chill old man (plus that disguise he had was so kickass lemme tell ya). We need to see more IRL people be like Director Clavell someday.

For the Pokemon League side of the games. The Gyms leaders are, as usual, mostly not interesting, BUT!!! Larry is interesting. He’s such a normal guy, but not in the usual kind of normal guy way. He has a PhD in Accounting. He has a thing for Normal-types. He has a thing for birds (me too Larry, me too). He knows how many Normal/Flying types Pokemon are out hence the reason Larry’s a Normal-Type Gym Leader AND a Flying-Type ELITE FOUR MEMBER. He’s got an office job that must’ve got some really good salary. He pays his taxes like the good civilian he is. He yeets his pokeball in a baseball-like manner; has he played baseball before? He truly is The Exceptional Everyman, and I understand why some parts of Tumblr is appointing him as a Tumblr Sexyman candidate. Also I think Ryme being a Ghost-Type Gym Leader, Grandma Rapper, and a Teacher at The Academy is really great too.

What about Nemona? Pretty much like Hugh, she wants to see us grow strong and powerful with her bc she knew how much potential we’ve got. But at the same time she needs to learn where to set her boundaries. She’s a little too fun. There’s Penny. She’s an introvert computer hacker who has a thing for Eeveelutions. She has an assortment of anime that she wants to binge-watch. She got promoted to fixing the LP security system bc she hacked into them in the first place. Wow what a great person actually. :)

All I can about Arven is that he should be besties with N :)

But what the hell was going on about Arven’s Mom/Dad?

Oh my god. The idea of an AI being really aware that they’re insanely programmed by the original Sada/Turo to protect the Time Machine from going haywire, the fact that the AI Sada/Turo has little control over whatever insane program it’s been prompted with, it’s all so.... auuuughghuhghghghhh... gives me ‘Do Computers Dream of Electric Sheep?’ vibes honestly. That AI has passed the Turing Test in so many ways... but why?

The AI Sada/Turo knew how much damage that the Time Machine may cause to Paldea’s ecosystem, and that they needed someone powerful enough to shut the machine down, but at the same time the AI knew that they're aware that they are programmed to protect instead, and that if they ceased to operate, the Time Machine would cause damage to the ecosystem beyond Area Zero. So pretty like how N farewelled us before leaving for distant travels and leaving us emotionally broken, the AI has chosen to go to the Time of The Dinosaurs/The Time of Future via the Time Machine, leaving us sad and Arven too. Arven was devastated when he realized all of this, and I feel so bad for him, but not just him. I feel bad for the AI that has been programmed to protect the thing that causing a paradox, knowing that they’ve got no control over it. I feel bad for the Professors because they had to sacrifice their quality family time to build an AI clone of themselves as some form of way to keep Arven company and to give a program that the AI has accepted, everything about the program basically, even knowing the risks that the program carries. The real Sada/Turo recklessly sacrificed themselves to the territorial Paradox Legendaries secretly in order to protect what they’ve love the most from the worst kind of dangers, that being their own Kuraidon/Miraidon, their Arven, and his goodest boi Mashiff. The AI knew the truth, and had to accept  everything about it.

Oh....

#pokemon sv spoilers #it's all coming together... but at what cost?

[a-crash-in-time-collection]

Chapter 24: Two Of The Rails

It took a little longer for Mr. Macbeth to readjust than he originally thought. Then again, he was readjusting to being alive again. Even if being 'alive' was being a ghost. However, he was able to after a bit. Not like he had anything trying to stop him. The biggest thing was that people were surprised to see him at first. Word spread quickly, but many couldn't believe without seeing. Oh, also Snatcher's voice in his head made it hard.

He was lucky that Snatcher agreed to let him take in Alexsandera. He had been worried the ghost wouldn't let him. Not fully sure why he wouldn't, maybe he just wanted to have them all under his watchful eye. He didn't seem like the type to care, but then again, he was the one who sent Macbeth to the manor to get the dweller. So what did he know? Either way, it was good to have the dweller with him. Gave him something to watch over beside the kids.

He found himself wandering the halls a lot when he wasn't busy. It was all he could think to do. He didn't need to eat or stuff like that anymore, so he had extra time for those small moments. He still ended up eating and stuff, mostly to try and help him feel normal again. He was able to get his mini fridge working and was able to start storing beer again. It had less of an effect on him now, unfortunately, but he still kept it for when the nightmares came.

He wasn't fully sure what to do a lot of the time if he was honest. Sure he could watch the kids, but as much as he loved them all, they tired him out quickly. Turns out being a ghost didn't give as much extra energy as he thought. Or maybe it was just his personality making him think that as Carol said. It didn't take too long for things to return to normal with him and the other elites, thankfully. Part of him missed him and Carol's dumb fights about things.

He had started to find himself missing the train in recent days. He shouldn't have been surprised, he was the train conductor after all. Besides everything the clan had claimed left when he died, something he was still trying to wrap his head around, it was the main thing he brought to the clan. What his mother brought to the clan. Part of him wished he could just get back on it for a moment, but it wasn't here.

"I'm not sure you two, going by yourself seems like a bad idea." He heard the chief's voice say, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was evening, and most of the clan was getting ready to head to bed. "Me and Righty will be busy in Alpine that day, and going to the desert, in summer, alone..."

"Come on Dad, me and Hattie will be fine! You've seen how she handles heat." Platinum's voice almost seems to echo through the hall for a moment. He grabbed his hat a bit, Alexsandera having knocked it a little loose, as he walked to the door to the cockpit of the orbital station. The door was opened, and taking a peek inside, he saw the family of four. "Besides, you installed that new fan cooling system into me three days ago."

"'nd we still aren't fully sure 'ow it works, Platinum." Right Hand Man said with a sigh, shaking his head. The topbot crossed his arms a bit, Mr. Macbeth thought he heard a point from him. He hadn't really noticed the heat himself, he honestly thought it was spring or early fall. He couldn't remember what season he died in. "It could break while you two are out, and if t'at 'appens, we need to be t'ere to do somet'in'."

"I could use my umbrella to help with the heat." Hat Girl offered. Right Hand Man glanced at her as if silently telling her that wasn't the point. Part of Mr. Macbeth wanted to chuckle at that. He remembered getting that face a few times when he was younger. Back when everything was right... Why did the two need to go to a desert anyway? "Besides, it's been a while since we have seen Conductor or DJ Grooves, you have to let us go!"

"Conductor?" Mr. Macbeth said to himself, glancing up at the dweller that had started to peek through the door. Reginald seemed to take quick notice of the dweller, as Alexsandera quickly raced to their little hiding spot again. Hat Girl looked over a bit confused and with a sigh, Mr. Macbeth open the door. "Sorry, was passin' by and couldn't help but overhear you all talkin'... If you don't mind me askin', what's goin' on?" He asked.

"T'e kids want to go to the desert in a few days to talk wit' some movie main' birds." Right Hand Man explained, looking at the two once again, Platinum trying to think of a counterargument. Macbeth just gave a nod, trying not to think about it too hard. He knew the planet they were currently on was like a kid's show from what he heard, and he already heard of the talking birds from the kids when he first came back.

"We can handle ourselves just fine." Platinum said after a few seconds of silence, Reginald sighing from his chair. Like he partly believed them but didn't want to take the risk. Platinum crashing in the middle of a desert didn't seem like the best idea after all. The topbot let out a sigh as he glanced at his sister. "Besides, who could even come with us? Almost everyone in the clan would say no unless there was something in it for them."

"That's true.. unless.." Reginald glanced over at Mr. Macbeth, and the ghost knew what he would ask. And he didn't see why not. It would get him away from Snatcher trying to drag him into the forest for work that day, even if he decided to. He heard said ghost currently saying something about the 'water' in a scolding tone. He was starting to be able to block him out. "Mr. Macbeth, if it isn't much of an issue."

"I can take them, sir," Macbeth said, hearing an excited gasp from Hat Girl and Platinum. He had already watched the two before, so they both knew he could handle it. Well, granted the last time he watched them was on the airship, and they weren't exactly in the trouble-making mood then. But he was sure he could manage as a ghost in a desert. "I just need to know how long we'll be out, I want to be prepared for how much water I should bring."

"If ya leave around eight in the mornin', ya'll probably be t'ere from noon to around seven-ish." Right Hand Man said, his hand twisting a bit at that last word. Macbeth gave a simple nod, looks like they'll be walking quite a bit then. Hat Girl ran up to Right Hand Man, quickly hugging him with a smile as he rolled his eyes. "Just don't expect ya two will be able to drag Mr. Macbeth wit' you every time ya want to go somewhere."

"We can't make promises!" Platinum replied, Hat Girl giving him a playful glare as she turned her head at him. Frighteningly quickly. Platinum gulped, or played the sound effect of one, and got a small chuckle out of most of the small group. He let out a sigh and then a mumble as he looked to the ground, Hat Girl letting her father go from the hug. "Fine, I promise, I promise." He mumbled

"Thank you, Mr. Macbeth!" Hat Girl said as she came over to him. He gave a simple nod, although he could feel the faintest smile forming on his face. Platinum came over once he was done mumbling, a smile on his face as well. And troublemaking in his eyes. He was going to have to watch out a lot for the topbot, wasn't he? "Oh, you're going to love Conductor once you meet him! You and him have a few things in common."

"That's nice to know." He said with a faint chuckle, before hearing the closest sound to a yawn the dweller could make. "Well, I should be headin' to bed now, you two don't plan to make me regret this." He stated, before beginning to walk away with a simple wave. Conductor huh? Strange name, but he felt like he didn't have room to judge. He looked to the side as Alexsandera wrapped themselves around his shoulder.

He gently placed them in the little pet-like bed when he got to their room. "Night, Alexsandera."

-------

Ok, now he was starting to feel the heat. Apparently, his ghostly form could only pick up on it when it was high, or something. He was thankful he was a ghost, otherwise, he was sure he would be sweating. Hat Girl and Platinum seemed to be doing fine as well, even if he had to force them to take a quick break just to be safe. Part of him wondered if being a ghost meant he was more able to pick up on being cold, he was sure he was cold quickly when at the manor.

Eventually, they found themselves at what had to be the only building in this wasteland of sand. How many workers got here with energy or even alive, he wasn't quite sure. But he was relieved to get a bit colder as they stepped inside, Hat Girl taking her umbrella back from Platinum. Macbeth had to look around a bit once they entered the lobby. He knew what to expect, yet part of him was still surprised. Never thought he would see people like birds in his life. Or, afterlife.

"There ye both are, I was waitin'!" He heard a voice called as Hat Girl and Platinum raced past him. He watched them quickly walking over and saying hello to some yellow bird creature. At least, he thought it was a bird, didn't look like any he'd seen before. This must be the conductor they were talking about. Had the right uniform. "I miss ye too, but there's not much time for chattin', we got to get to work on the movie proto."

"Still the same in that regard." Hat Girl commented as the Conductor opened one of the nearby doors, Macbeth quickly headed over so he wouldn't lose sight of them.

"It's been months and we still haven't started, lassie!" The Conductor replied, walking into what appeared to be the set. He called over some owls and the group began to talk, the Conductor quickly and hastily describing everything. His words started to blend together in Macbeth's ears at one point, especially when Snatcher went on a rant about something at that moment. "And- wait. Who's the glowin' figure behind ye two?"

"Oh, it's Mr. Macbeth, our train conductor." Platinum said, Macbeth, regaining a bit of focus on what they were saying once he heard his name. The Conductor gave him an odd look, well, as odd as one could without seeable eyes, he supposed. Platinum gave a smile as he lead against the nearby tent cutout, adjusting the vest he suddenly had on. "Yeah, he was sorta, dead when we first came, still is, but Snatcher brought him back!"

"Dad and Papa wouldn't let us come without someone to watch." Hat Girl explained with a smile, Macbeth giving a small nod. He wasn't sure what to say, it was a trip for them after all and he didn't want to cause some time to be lost by mistake. He simply looked down and readjusted his sleeve as she turned back to the bird. "He's still kinda adjusting to being, well, sorta alive again." Hat Girl explained.

"Well, not sure what made that ghost bring him back, but it seems to be a good thing so far." Conductor stated. Macbeth could only give a head tilt at that. So far? Was he worried he was going to turn into a murderous ghost or something? There was only one person he thought he could ever be like that to, and he's long dead. "Well, you two go ahead and grab the props and practice yer lines, we don't have all day to waste now." The Conductor said quickly.

"Alright, we'll be back!" Hat Girl said, beginning to race off, Platinum following behind. He followed them the best he could, but could only make it a bit before they had to split up. He let out a sigh and stayed by the nearest wall, at least this way he could get to one of them quickly if they needed it. He doubted that would need to happen though. Everything here seemed like it was fine and safe. But still, he had to be at least a little careful.

"So, you were revived from the dead huh?" The Conductor asked as he walked over, Macbeth looking over and giving a simple nod. He might as well do some talking, and have someone else be able to race to one of the kids if they needed it. The bird gave a confused nod as if even here that wasn't a concept fully understood. "Must have been quite shockin' for ye. What exactly happened, age or somethin' like poison."

"Murder. Some guy tried to steal from us and I got myself hit with a laser." Macbeth said, leaving out the fact it was his own. He had a feeling the bird in front of him was the type to make fun of others if in the right mood. The Conductor seemed to pause for a moment at that, before giving a nod once he processed that. "Don't worry, it didn't hurt... still weird that I don't remember what the afterlife is like."

"Ahh, you can't recall everythin'." The Conductor said, looking up at the man. He gave a slight nod, he suppose that was true. He shouldn't let it bug him. He was here now and that was all that mattered. The Conductor called out quickly to a random owl, dragging Macbeth out before he fell into a long train of thought. "So, yer a conductor as well. I didn't think yer clan would have one, with that fancy, floatin' spaceship. It wasn't always broken into pieces after all."

"We used to live in an airship, well, most of us. Some stayed at other hidden bases dotted around the world." Macbeth explained. He supposes it had made sense, they couldn't fit everyone into the airship comfortably. Part of the reason Reginald wanted to make the orbital station was to keep their family all safe in one place. "I.. actually died on the train. I don't know what happened to it, but I believe it's alright."

"I have a feelin' yer family wouldn't have just toss it in the sea or somethin'." The Conductor said with a chuckle. He paused for a moment as the ghost seemed to tense up slightly at the mention of that. He let out a bit of a fake cough as Macbeth took a breath of air. He didn't need it but it was nice. The Conductor glanced up at him. "If it might make you feel better, you could come to see my baby. My train of crouse."

"Who said I was feeling bad?" Macbeth asked with a head tilt, before letting out a sigh. "Although, I suppose it would be nice to see it."

"Then come on then, there's no need to be shy." The Conductor said with a smile, getting an eye roll from the ghost. Macbeth glanced briefly at the hallway, remembering Hat Girl and Platinum. He really should stay near them. The Conductor seemed to pick up on this, snapping his fingers and waving Macbeth over once he glanced at him. "The lad and lassie will be fine, ‘they'll have to meet us at the train anyway. Now come on."

Macbeth paused for a moment, taking a bit to think. He supposes the Conductor did have a point. Everyone besides that one bird behind a desk in the lobby was half the size of him and the teens, it wouldn't take too much to fight back if one of them randomly did decide to do something. He reached for his hat for a moment to readjust it, before looking at the Conductor with a nod and began to follow. Slowly at first.

Was a little weird to be the only human-like person around, but hey, at least some of the stares he was getting were ones he could brush off.

-------

Macbeth would be lying if he said walking through the fellow Conductor's train didn't make him feel a little bit better. it still wasn't his, nor would it ever be. But it was nice to be somewhere that was somewhat familiar to him. He hadn't been in the orbital station much before his death, he had no reason to. So the only thing that made that feel like home was his family around. And while that was enough for him, part of him had been longing for some familiar sights.

The train was a little weird in some places, but since it was meant to double as a movie set he supposed it made sense. trap doors were dotted about, random cannon and platforms like props here and there. The Conductor had many carts he would switch between depending on what movie he was working on. Had to keep the setting somewhat fresh for each movie that wasn't a part of another series after all. Macbeth could somewhat understand.

"Yours is a lot more advanced than mine," Macbeth commented as he walked around the locomotive, glancing at the control panel. So many levers and buttons he didn't have the slightest clue of, all while The Conductor watched from his seat. Then again, it was overall much bigger than his train, so he shouldn't be too surprised. "It looks like you could have a whole family in here drivin'." He commented, stepping around a camera.

"Well, this train has always been one of a kind." The Conductor said, patting the control panel in front of him gently. He seemed to pause for a moment and pushed his seat a bit back, reaching under and pulling aside a hidden hatch. Macbeth watched confused, before watching the Conductor pull out two very familiar bottles as he looked over. "This is lighter than I normally like, but I don't plan on crashin' me train today." The conductor commented, tossing one over.

"Note to self, add one when you eventually get back home," Macbeth commented aloud, getting a small bit of laughter from the Conductor as Macbeth took a sip from the bottle. Even if the effects didn't quite exist in the same way, the taste was still there. He paused before he thought about taking another, placing the bottle to the side. "Alcohol doesn't affect me much, compared to before. But I still shouldn't be drinkin' right now, even if light."

"Why not, it's good." The Conductor said, taking a swing from his bottle. Macbeth paused for a moment to think of exactly how to phrase what he needed to say since it sounded a little weird. He felt his hat shift on his head a bit, and Conductor seemed to catch onto it, placing the bottle down and walking over. "Do ye have a glowing light over yer head or something? I could've sworn I just saw that hat of years move all on its own!"

"Well, the hat wasn't what moved," Macbeth explained, being gentle as he took off his hat, just a bit. The Conductor watched something back away from the light a bit, hearing Macbeth give a whisper that it was ok. Eventually, the hat lifted a bit more, as a small fox masked dweller poke its head out of the hat. "Long story short, I ended up takin' Alexsandera in as my child. One day they got scared and raced up here and now it's, just where they stay usually."

"Like a rabbit in a hat." Conductor commented. He looked over at Macbeth as the man chuckled, before looking back at the dweller. They slowly came out from the hat, for a moment. They floated to the side of their fellow ghost, before seemingly getting spooked by something out the window, and racing back inside. "Huh, I know dwellers aren't the bravest or most social things, but this one seems extra scared and shy."

"Considering what she did to them." His voice gained some venom with 'she', "I'm surprised they aren't all like this." He commented, letting the hat fully cover his child again. The Conductor had taken the slightness set back at the change in tone. His voice overall had a tired sound to it, even when he had been chuckling it felt like he was shaking away a bad memory. "I just don't want them to see me drink too much and get the idea to try it themselves."

"I suppose I could understand that, I have a daughter and grandkids of me own." Conductor commented. Macbeth gave a nod, he thought he recalled Hat Girl mentioning something about grandkids before when she would tell tales of this planet. It was still a little strange to think of himself being considered an official father. "Junior is basically a small lad size version of me. Wants to be just like me when he grows up." The Conductor stated proudly.

"Kids are just like that." Macbeth chuckled slightly. He couldn't keep track of how much he heard a similar phrase from watching the kids over the years. Mostly it was just wanting to be like their parents or a well-respected member of the clan. They always thought it would be easy. He still remembers a few times he had to comfort them when that naivety shattered in their teens. "I just... wish the best for them-"

"C-Conductor!" An owl called as they opened the door to the locomotive, the Conductor letting out an 'ugh' at the interruption, Macbeth simply nodded as they both turned to face the owl. The owl looked confused and, maybe a bit frightened, before letting out a gulp and looking at Conductor again, who was tabbing his fingers waiting. "T-The actors will be here any minute sir. So we should be good to film, I think."

"Alright, just knock next time, and check on the cameras!" The Conductor shouted, the owl giving a bit of a nod before leaving, closing the door. The Conductor leaned back into his chair with a sigh, before starting the train's engine. Macbeth walked over to him, placing his hand on the control panel as the train began to hum to life. "Owls, I swear it's like they don't work for me sometimes." Conductor sighed. "It's annoying as peck."

"Peck?" Macbeth asked. He had heard Snatcher use that word a few times before and was always confused by it. It just seemed so out of context, which it was most of the time. Now and again the ghost would go on a rant or call Macbeth over and explain while he was there. He looked out the window at the glowing desert sand. "I do understand how you feel, sorta. Some people just don't take you seriously anymore." He sighed

"I mean, there are times for being taken seriously and not. It's just how life is." Conductor claimed, glancing up at Macbeth with a smile before focusing on the control panel again. Macbeth supposed that was true. But it wasn't something he could just fully apply to his life. The only time he did was around the kids because they were kids. "Can you check on the lad and lassie for me quickly?"

"Sure, it's my job to watch them after all," Macbeth said and began to head to the door to leave, hearing some sort of thanks from the Conductor behind him. He quickly went back in the direction they were once he had gotten off the train, running into them both being ok. Why wouldn't be they after all? They were just excited to start filming the movie, and Macbeth just gave a faint smile. They were too good for this world.

It almost reminded him of someone. Although he would never say who. They were long gone, he was...

-------

Wind passing through him was still a new feeling, he should have thought about it before he got on top of the train while it was moving. But it was the only way he could easily keep an eye on Hat Girl and Platinum as they acted their parts. He would have questioned why the Conductor needed them to be on top of a moving train for the second to work, but as long as they would be fine and he could get to them, he would let it slide.

The two were playing different roles, Platinum being some bandit and Hat Girl the hero, at least, that's what he believed was happening.

"Give up your chase Marta! It will only fail in the end!" He heard Platinum call out with a smirk in his voice. It was a little hard to hear exactly what he was saying, but he knew he got a bit nervous as he saw him get near the edge of the train. He took a glance at it, before he smirked, turning back to his sister. "Or maybe fall would be a better word." He said and reached an arm out. Macbeth began to face forward when his sleeve was garbed.

"Don't worry, I had them practice this on their breaks and there are mattresses down there, it’ll be fine." The conductor said, waving a dismissive hand from the chair. Macbeth looked at him for a moment, before turning back as Hat Girl was tossed to the edge, only to use her umbrella to stop herself at the last moment. He could have sworn he felt his non-existing heart beating. "See, relax. I'm not like DJ Grooves when it comes to movie makin'." Conductor claimed

"I just have to take your word for it," Macbeth said, still watching the two siblings play their parts. He felt a bit of panic in him when he heard something about a fire, only to realize it was Snatcher's voice and he took a sigh of relief. He soon reached for his hat to make sure it was still on, Alexsandera coming out just a little bit. "How much longer do we need to record? I need to get the two home soon."

"Just this last scene, no need to worry." The conductor said, before quickly calling something out to the two of them. He wasn't sure how they could hear him, maybe he just got a loud rush of wind right then and there. Either way, he sat down as the two kept doing the scene, the camera going around as they fought. "Oooh! They're even better than I imagine they would be. Well, Hat Girl had experience with it before."

"I got you!" The alien girl cried, knocking Platinum down onto the roof of the train. "Your train part thieving days are done."

"No, I will not allow this!" Platinum cried, gently kicking his sister to make her back off as he got back on his feet. Hat Girl watched and began to run for a moment, before she adjusted her sprint bow, racing to him and once again knocking him to the ground. In a way that looked harder than Macbeth would've liked. Platinum tried to get up but Hat Girl cuffed him with some handcuffs, and he hung his head in defeat.

"Cut!" Conductor called loudly. Macbeth looked at the Conductor for permission to head to them now, to which he did. He quickly raced over to the two as Hat Girl helped her brother out of the cuffs, both laughing a hit now that they no longer needed to act. He scanned them but found no signs of injuries on them thankfully. "See, I told ye they’d be fine." The conductor commented as he walked over. "You two did great!"

"Thanks, Conductor!" Hat Girl said, before turning to Macbeth with a faint smile on her face. "You were worried? We told you we would be fine Mr. Macbeth!"

"Sometimes we say those words and they don't end up being true," Macbeth said. Part of him wanted to point at himself to prove the point, but he didn't want to kill the mood too much. He just needed to keep them safe and they were. Hat Girl crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him as he rolled his eyes. "You are still just a kid in many ways." He commented, getting a giggle out of her.

"I see no issue with that." The conductor said with a smile, Macbeth turning and giving a small nod. The train stopped soon after and they all got down, taking a moment to rest and get used to the lack of wind flying right at their faces. The conductor was readjusting some of his feathers while Hat Girl and Platinum came back from changing into their normal clothing. "Yer all going to love the movie when it comes out."

"Perhaps, I'm not always into train-related media though," Macbeth commented, getting what he thought was a glare from the Conductor. "What?"

"Throw a good song into the soundtrack and he'll love it." Platinum commented, getting a confused look from Macbeth as he chuckled. Hat Girl rolled her eyes, although she didn't know whether it was from Platinum's comment or Macbeth's reaction. They knew. Maybe he was just pretending and he didn't. "What, it's true." Platinum said again, before glancing up at the sky. "Huh, it looks like the sun might start setting soon."

"Yes, I should get you two home then," Macbeth said and began to make sure they had everything they brought with them, the Conductor thankfully helping them. Soon, they had all they needed and were ready to head back to the orbital station, after taking a few minutes inside the train to cool off from the desert heat. Macbeth turned to the Conductor as they left. "It was nice to meet you." He said with a slight nod.

"You too, you just make sure they get home safe." The conductor said, Macbeth, giving a nod as he turned away. "Be careful now you pecknecks!" He called, getting chuckles from the kids.

"I'm not sure why the clan just doesn't drop a car out here," Macbeth commented as they walked, before glancing at the two. Right, because they were the only ones that came out here and they couldn't drive. Even though they were a criminal organization, they still used the legal age for many things. And while Platinum was arguably of age to drive, no one would trust him behind the wheel. "Yeah, forget I asked that."

"Maybe they could put a tank or something out here!" Platinum commented with a smile on his face, before hearing the faintest 'please no' from Macbeth and crossing his arms. "What, it's not like I'm going to kill the desert with it!" He said, his foot stomping against the ground with his next step. Macbeth rolled his eyes as Hat Girl shrugged. Platinum eventually sighed and glanced to the side. "So.. you think Van will like the movie."

"Yes." Hat Girl replied with a smug tone in her voice, mixed with a bit of giggling. Macbeth watched as Platinum punted again and gave a faint smile. He missed this, even if he didn't know.

#a hat in time #the henry stickmin collection #hat girl #hat kid #right hand man #henry stickmin oc #reginald copperbottom #copperright #henry stickmin mr. macbeth #mr. macbeth #ahit dwellers #a hat in time fanfic #henry stickmin fanfic

[luimagines]

Hi! First of all, I wanted to let you know that your writing makes my heart melt! All of your works are as funny as they are incredible, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with your blog!

If it’s okay to request, could you write something about the boys having to dance with the reader? And when they do, they start to catch feelings for the reader but don’t realize it? If it’s okay, of course ♡ have a good day!! And please, take all the time you need if you write it!

Masterlist

If I had a nickel for every time some one requested a detailed scenario where you can dance with Link, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

I should have known there were those who yearn. (And I listened to the song you referenced anon, and it's nice but I personally like Sam Smith's version better.)

But yes, I'll see what I can do.

Part 1 will include Warrior, Sky and Four

Content under the cut!

Warrior

Warrior wasn’t sure why the princess thought that throwing a party for the hero was considered a good thing.

Or at least not without warning them about it first.

He supposed she was just excited to invite heroes of the ears into her home and wanted them to feel that at least their efforts were appreciated.

But he hated this.

And Link knew he wasn’t the only one to think so if the looks of his companions were anything to go by.

But even as he makes his rounds amongst the elite, the fake and the genuine, he tried to make sure that his friends were at least have a comfortable time. He wanted them to know that they didn’t have to keep a face like he did amongst this group so if they wanted to have fun and dance and eat then they could.

They were guests in his home as well.

But no matter where he looked and no matter how many rounds he made, he noticed that were nowhere to be found.

Confused, he ventured outside the venue.

And as he looking for you, he just sees a silhouette against the moon light on top of one of the decorative rocks out in the middle of the rose bush maze.

There was no one else around and then again the guards and people were too drunk and joyful to notice someone breaking the ground rules of conduct or if they noticed, they simply did not care.

He makes his way toward the shadow and stalls for a moment when you look his way.

The way the light hit your frame seemed delicate and ethereal with an otherworldly glow to your hair and skin. The royal purple garb they gave you as a gift for not having anything suitable to wear to the party hugged your curves and angles in all the right ways. Someone must have offered you some jewelry to go with it because he doesn’t remember you having the gold necklace and matching head piece that pulls your hair back into a crown of curls tat frame your face in a divine manner.

Link found himself unable to breath for a second.

You smile and say, “I’m just taking in some air.”

“Not enjoying the party?” He blurts, worried for a moment that you’ve been uncomfortable this entire time... by yourself.... away from everyone.... just sitting in the darkness with the sounds of music and laughter in the background.

“It felt weird to be at a heroes party when I myself- am not a hero.” You shrug and lean back casually on the rock. “Here to drag me back Capitan?”

Warrior blinks and registers the change of pace in the music and will deny to the end of his life where he found the nerve to do what he does next.

He smoothly places the his cup of lightly bubbled alcohol on one of the lower rocks and holds out his hand to you. “Dance with me. Just once.”

You blink and also tune into the music behind the two of you.

It’s a slow dance.

You gradually smile and reach out to him, pulling yourself from the rocks surface and into his arms. “Just one dance.”

Warrior tries to hide the gulp that threatens to noticeably bob his Adam’s apple and places his hands on your waist and holds your hand respectfully. “Have you danced before?”

“Technically.” You answer and place your own hands in his and on his shoulder, pulling yourself closer to him. “I while I know how to dance with the elite, it’s just never been my scene.”

“I know how you feel.” Warrior takes the leads and guides you through the steps of the song. He’s been through countless hours of training for battle- and not those that end in bloodshed- but those that take place in the ball room with the nobles and high end society that would have one looked at him scorn and distaste.

He doesn’t blame you for wanting to get away.

But he does want you to enjoy yourself... if only a little bit.

The steps come naturally to him and he takes a moment to spin you around before you trip over your own feet.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you twirl and send the fabric billowing around you.

Warrior is struck stupid by the sight and almost steps off beat with the music. He’s quick to correct himself but he seemed to have your laughter on his mind on repeat.

“I’d stay out here with you if I could.” He admits as he repositions himself against you, trying to lead you away from the rose thorns and the maze itself so neither of you get caught up in it. “But unfortunately my disappearance won’t go unnoticed for long.”

“Oh...” You blink and look up into his eyes. “I suppose you really only have time for one dance, huh?”

He’s unprepared by how disappointed you sound and it would appear so are you with how quick you try to cover it up.

“It’s fine! You’re an important figure here, I guess it’s only natural that every one would want your attention. I hope you enjoy the party though. Unlike me, you deserve the recognition.” You smile genuinely but your eyes look like they’re trying to get some unknown message across.

“If I can somehow get away again-” Warrior rushes to keep your smile there and to include you in the collective joy the party was supposed to bring. “-Will you save another dance for me?”

You hum and tap you finger to you chin in thought. “It hasn’t been that bad being out here by myself...”

Warrior really hopes that you let him dance with you again even when you pull apart to the end of the music. 

But you grin and reach up to boop his nose with the same finger. “Alright soldier boy, since you asked so nicely I’ll save the last dance just for you.” 

Warrior laughs a little breathlessly and has to force himself to step away from you. He hopes to any and all who can hear them that’s he’s not actually blushing right now. “Ok. I’ll be back then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Sky

Sky was sure that every one was having a great time. 

The music was loud and energetic and his friends were all off doing their own thing while the festival was in full motion.

It was a celebration for the people’s loftwings since it was usually the time of the year that they left their rider’s side- presumably to go lay their eggs for the next generation of riders.

But it was all fun and games for everyone involved.

Wind and Four seemed to be in a highly competitive match of toss the sack with Twilight being the point keeper on the other end. Wild and Hyrule were busy enjoying the food and no doubt collecting the recipes (Sky was hoping that Wild would make the food so he was no way inclined to stop him). Time and Warrior were off in a corner, talking to each other with a cup in each of their hands. Legend stood next to them without a cup but he seemed to be more interested in the décor and loftwings themselves.

But you...

Sky stopped walking along the ribbon perimeter and looked over to you.

You were by yourself... You didn’t particularly happy..

And that just won’t stand.

With subtle determination, he marches over to you and taps your shoulder.

You seem to blink back into the present and raise an eyebrow to him in return.

He can see the question on your lips just as you’re about to say it so he juts his head into he direction of the dance area with a simple hand out in your direction.

He hopes his intentions are clear.

You eye his hand and snap your mouth shut with a soft click. Sky gulps  suddenly, a strange bout of nervousness attempting to choke his system as you take your time to think about his offer.

Sky would never force you to do something that you don’t want to do but really (and he has no idea where this urge comes from) wants to dance with you.

Just once.

Just once to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

To see you happy.

You place your hand in his, soft and small and so much different than his own. “Lead the way, Boy Wonder.”

You smile and he returns your gesture, gently pulling you toward the open area as the next song starts. It’s light and airy and it’s enough to keep you moving even if you both stall for a minute to just sway side to side in each others arms.

Sky didn’t know that he’d feel so whole and accomplished by just holding you.

Emboldened by the tune of the events, Sky takes a step back and twirls you around as the music flows up and down again just in time to bring you back into his arms.

You laugh. “Perfect timing.”

“I do try.” Sky winks.

You giggle to yourself with a small shake of your head but you keep swaying with Sky across the dance floor.

The music comes to an end and Sky does his best gentleman’s bow as he lets go of you completely- even if he finds that he doesn’t want to. “An absolute honor to dance with you.”

The music starts up again in a similar tune but all he would have to settle for is just one dance. It’s all he’s comfortable with asking from you. 

“Sky wait.” You blurt.

He turns around to see that... well you seemed to have startled yourself as well.

“I um..” You bite your lip and vaguely gesture to the musicians in the distance. “They’re not done.”

Sky smirks a little. “But the song is.”

“I uh... Just one more dance?” You hold your hand out to him this time and he stares in shock.

Not for long though.

He’s quick to place his hand in your and pull himself back to you. “I’d love to.”

Four

Four was excited to show everyone around the Festival of Fools. It was his favorite time of the year where everyone got to be silly and destress and play and eat and dance.

Four had always run around trying to do what he could never get away with on a typical day but right now he had to make sure his traveling companion didn’t actually burn the town down.

He loved them but he’d lying if he said that he wasn’t just the tiniest concerned over their facial expressions when he said that anything goes really- no laws but those of the people apply today.

Which made him the temporary babysitter for some of the more rowdy ones.

But he had lost sight of you a while ago.

Not that he was concerned or anything but... He did want to spend time with you.

The festival doesn’t happen everyday and he knew that there would only be so many days left that he’d be able to spend with the group and even less so that they’d be given a chance to relax and unwind.

That thought urged him forward to find you.

If only to make sure that you were having a good time.

He had found you by the food court where you munched on a meat stick and watched as the people came and go.

You looked bored.

Now Four knew that parties weren’t entirely your scene and you weren’t the kind of person to go and throw yourself into the middle of it all.

That being said it still rubbed him the wrong way when you looked like you would rather be anywhere but there.

 He oughta do something about it.

Just across the street a band had begun playing music for the people to dance to, now that they’ve usually had their fill for lunch.

Four saw you look over and smile, basking in the edges of their amplified joy and amusement.

He grinned and ran over to you, tugging your hand into his own and pulling you close to him. “Dance with me!”

“Wha- Four? Where’d you come from?” You dropped the finished stick in shock and followed him as he dragged you to the open space just beyond the food cart.

“I live here.” He laughed and spun you around. “Just one dance!”

“I- but- Four!” You dug your heels into the dirt and stopped the both of you from reach the destination. “I can’t dance! I- I’ve never danced.”

Four turns to look at you and smiles encouragingly. “Just let loose, it’s easy. There’s no right way to move, you just do. Just feel the music and my lead.”

You bite your lip and Four takes the moment of hesitation to pull you forward again. you let him and soon find yourself on a dirt arena with lively music and people all around you.

“Don’t let go of my hand ok?” Four grins.

You find yourself grinning as well and soon you’re both spinning and jumping and leaping and twirling around each other to the beat of music.

It’s fast and fun and within moments on simply holding onto Four you find yourself laughing uncontrollably as he throws you around like a rag doll in which ever way he likes.

He’s stronger than you imagined him to be but then again... He’s a blacksmith.

It shouldn’t be all that surprising.

Somehow in the midst of it, he throws you in the air and over his head, catching you in a spin and letting you catch your breath and the music dies down and another begins.

“You ok?” Four asks, a little breathless himself. He doesn’t think he’s heard you laugh so hard or for so long.

It’s nice.

“That was fun!” You managed to say in between your giggles.

Four’s grin widened and even if he knows it’s not your style.... and he only asked for one, he holds his hand out again just in time for the next crescendo to begin.

You look up and look at him and his hand...

You don’t hesitate to put your hand in his and he pulls you close to him again.

You spin and laugh and jump and twirl well into the night, completely forgetting about the others until you have to turn in for the night.

Four’s feet hurt by the end of it and he’s exhausted but to see and hear you smile and laugh and enjoy yourself in what is arguably his favorite time of year was completely worth it.

He hopes that he can spend more time with you... He hopes for just one more dance before it all ends.

Part 2

#linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #SKYY!! #WHY ARE YOU SO HARD TO WRITE FOR?! #I'm sorry his is short compared to the others #I tried guys #linked universe

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 1)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ (WHO MADE THIS PERFECTLY GORGEOUS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU 

Word Count: 7,003

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.    

Thumbs hooked beneath the straps of your backpack, you paused on the sidewalk to tilt your head up. A sign reading Russet Ballet Academy hung from the building above, detailing the location of the next four years of your life.

It was the dream of many to attend and yet, few ever came to walk these halls as its students. Only eighty dancers were accepted to their dance program each year; the fiercest competition from all over the globe.

Somehow, you were amongst them.

The day you’d received your letter still felt like a dream but here you were, standing under the sign and knowing you’d made it. You stared at it a second longer before your mom came up and squeezed your shoulder.

“Wow,” she said, also reading the sign. “Seems like just yesterday you fell on your ass at Hall of Fame, huh?”

“Mom!” You laughed, the moment effectively broken. “Why would you bring that up now? I was twelve!”

She grinned and glanced in your direction. “You just had such enthusiasm! Picked yourself right back up and kept going. I should’ve known then you would make it.”

Despite yourself, you felt your insides soften again. It sounded like something your old dance teacher, Miss Katie, would’ve said. She’d always had faith in your perseverance and ability. You hadn’t started competing until the age of eleven; in dancer years, this was considered late and yet, you grew quickly through the ranks. By the time you reached high school, you were known on the competitive dance circuit as one of the elites.

Your parents joked it was your contrariness that kept you going. Growing up, you’d never much liked hearing the word no – something your parents applauded and bemoaned in equal measure.

Hiking your bag higher, you turned to face your parents. “So, are you going to take a photo, or what?”

“A photo! Great idea.” Scanning the sidewalk, your mom found your dad. “Honey, come here! Honey! Hone – honestly,” she huffed, waving both arms overhead.

Finally, your dad noticed and hurried in your direction. “Have you seen the gargoyles?” he asked, clearly impressed. “The architecture of this building is incredible, Y/N. When you get settled, maybe you can find out for me who the builder –”

“Take the picture, darling,” said your mom, handing over the camera.

She moved beside you, hugging you tight enough to make breathing difficult. You were happy though, smiling brightly as your dad took the shot.

“Okay, okay,” you said, laughing after the tenth frame. “I think you guys have embarrassed me enough for one day, don’t you?”

“Debatable,” said your dad, grabbing your luggage to haul up the steps. “We’ve got to make up for all the days we won’t see you. You’re not coming home until the holidays, right? That’s a long time!”

At this, a small pang went through you and you nodded. He was right – your parents lived a plane flight away and you’d never been the wealthiest of households. You wouldn’t be able to return until three months from now, which was the longest you’d ever spent away from your family.

It was such a strange thought, you didn’t know what to do with it. As crazy as it was, since they often drove you crazy, you hadn’t ever lived far away from home and the thought made you sad. It was just another way your life was being upended.

As you entered the arched door of Grace Hall, your soon-to-be home, your head spun from the newness. In your small suburban town, you’d had a reputation. The best dancer, the straight-A student, the person with her act together – never mind what you did behind the scenes to make it appear that way. The point was, you were known.

Here, you were just another small fish thrown into the big pond. It wasn’t that you were a bad dancer – far from it – but here, everyone was the best. Everyone at Russet had passed the same bar, which meant the stakes would be higher than ever before. You had never danced under that kind of pressure and scrutiny.

Stomach churning, you once again wondered if you’d made the right choice. You’d been accepted into other Universities; ones without dance programs where you’d have a more secure future. Instead, you chose to pursue dance as a career.

It wasn’t that other majors were without risk or difficulty, but there was a certain physical and mental exhaustion associated with dance which most found to be a deterrent. You once had a teacher who said if you needed to think twice about dancing, you shouldn’t do it. Way too many people never made it to the top; if you weren’t prepared to make sacrifices for what you loved, then this wasn’t the path for you.

At the time, you hadn’t thought twice about your decision, but that was before the events of Senior year.

A week before the final dance competition of the season, your tendonitis grew so bad, you physically winced whenever you landed a jump. Your teachers finally caught on and forced you to see a doctor, who forbade you from dancing in the upcoming competition.

It had been the last one of the year; your final chance to compete and show everyone – well, someone – why you were considered the best. You went to the competition despite your injury, determined to cheer on your teammates, but something hollow settled into your chest as you watched, realizing your time on the stage would someday come to an end.

You realized how tenuous your body was and, by extension, your career. Of course, you’d known this before, but it had been your first time to face this knowledge head-on and it scared you. Tendonitis wasn’t something that went away, although it was a condition you could work through and manage. Still, your body would only get worse and although you knew you wanted to dance, now you had doubts.

As you stepped through the doors of Russet Academy, these doubts reared their ugly heads once again.

Hiking your bag further up on your shoulder, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed these thoughts away. That was last year. You were better now, fully recovered and approved to dance by your doctors. So long as you took care of yourself, there was nothing to fear.

More suitcases waited in the trunk of your dad’s rental car, but your roommate had already texted her arrival, so you headed upstairs. Noelle Carmichael was from California, a Sagittarius, had begun dancing at the age of three and loved caramel popcorn more than anything else in the world. All this information had been thrown at you during your first text conversation, which might have seemed like a lot, but after a summer of talking, you knew it to only be Noelle. 

As you lugged your bag from the elevator – the singular service vehicle had been repurposed for move-in – a head poked itself from a room down the hall.

“Y/N?” 

When you nodded, your roommate whooped and leapt into view. 

“It’s me – Noelle!” she called.

She rushed to help you with your bags, chattering excitedly as you walked down the hall. Noelle’s move-in time had been yesterday, and her parents had already left, but they couldn’t wait to meet you the next time they visited.

You found her enthusiasm contagious and before long, most of your worries had been banished to the sidewalk outside. It felt like you’d known Noelle for much longer than the few months you talked over the summer. This greatly relieved you, since you’d been worried about making friends at Russet Academy.

Dancers weren’t always the friendliest, especially when it came to institutions like this. So much of dance was competition – competition for that ranking, that medal or that place in that dance company. It was hard to make teamwork a priority when so much of success was judged on the individual.

Noelle didn’t seem to think this way though, which helped ease some of your fears. You had both entered the ballet track at the Academy. You weren’t naturally a ballerina, but Russet recommended those who wanted to go into jazz or contemporary start with ballet. Smaller majors existed for tap and hip-hop, but those had never been your forte.

Meeting Noelle was enough for minimal tears to be shed while saying goodbye to your parents later that night. Your dad ended up crying, which of course set you off, but by the time they got in their rental car and turned the corner, you’d managed to mostly pull yourself together.

Noelle remained in the dorm while you said goodbye, lounging on her bed with a book in her lap. 

You paused on the threshold of your room when you returned, taking in the strangeness of all your surroundings. Your old comforter on a lofted bed, your laptop perched on a strange desk, your clothes hung in an armoire. It was both strange and familiar; the sight of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Noelle said, hopping down from her bed. “Don’t cry, Y/N! I only just stopped crying this morning. If you cry, then I’ll cry and people will think something terrible is happening here.”

You laughed when she hugged you, hugging her back in the middle of the room. It was comforting to know someone else felt this way; after a moment, you pulled back to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Damn. I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.” Noelle smiled. “I was so excited to leave I forgot that deep down, I’m a gigantic baby. Huge mama’s girl.”

Stifling a laugh, you crossed the room to grab a Kleenex.

“If it helps,” Noelle said. “Some girls down the hall are having people over tonight. We could go and meet some of our classmates before orientation starts tomorrow. It should be fun!”

“That does sound fun,” you said, and you meant it.

A few hours later, you found yourself seated on equally horrible carpet in a room down the hall. Several other freshmen were seated beside you, sharing similar parting stories, which lifted your spirits.

“I bawled,” said Irene, clutching her chest. “I’ve had this giant countdown in my calendar all summer. I crossed each day off with a marker and then suddenly, I’m here and I miss my sister. Pathetic.”

Noelle laughed. “I’m just glad I was part of yesterday’s move-in day. It means only half of you heard my gigantic breakdown last night. Mad embarrassing. Pretty sure I told my brother I love him.” She shuddered. “He’s only supposed to get that honor on his birthday!”

The room cracked up, another girl chiming in and you swirled your cup, happily buzzed from the drink in your hand. You hadn’t had alcohol many times before, but it seemed appropriate for a night of new experiences. No one here was drinking to get drunk, since orientation began tomorrow, but some social lubricant tended to help in times like this.

Ballet wouldn’t start until Monday morning, so this was your last chance for a while to indulge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drink during the semester, but you’d learned the hard way hangovers made for terrible class the next day. You’d only done it once before deciding to ban the idea of alcohol the night before dancing.

The other girls on your floor did their best to put you at ease. Aside from your roommate, there were five other girls who’d congregated in the room.

Ari and Jasmine lived in the room you all sat in. Ari lived within driving distance of the city, had the largest collection of gel pens you’d ever seen and had started dancing later in life (at age ten), which made it all the more impressive that she’d gotten in. Jasmine was from a tiny city in the south and was also a studio dancer; you recognized her the moment she spoke, having run into her as a teacher’s assistant at a dance convention you went to.

Also present were Irene, a ballerina from Chicago and Lia, who was on the hip-hop track. They were also roommates and although you probably wouldn’t have many classes with Lia, orientation tomorrow would be the same. As you got to know them better, the bubble of trepidation in your chest slowly deflated. Everyone here seemed nice – intense, but not as though they were out to get anyone.

As though conjured into being by your very thought, a girl appeared in the door.

She was tall, slim and had her hair pulled back in a French twist. Everything about her screamed ballerina, from her light blue warm-ups to her arched expression. The moment she appeared on the threshold, several people in the room quieted.

Noticing this, you glanced at her with renewed interest. It seemed the girl’s reputation preceded her, but you honestly had no idea who she was. Rather than introduce herself though, the girl merely sighed.

“I thought I heard something,” she said, her tone piqued.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Jasmine rose from the floor. “Hey, Sabrina!” she said, making her tone bright. “We were just getting to know one another. Did you change your mind about coming? We have room if you want to join.”

Despite her forced smile, you detected a glimmer of want beneath Jasmine’s words. Clearly, this Sabrina was considered a big deal. Jasmine’s hopes were immediately crushed the second Sabrina opened her mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I need to get to sleep soon. I want to wake up early and get in a quick barre before breakfast.”

Noelle, seated beside you, stared at Sabrina in amazement. “You already have access to rooms?”

Sabrina turned; a faint, amused smile crossed her lips. “Yeah. I went to Russet Prep. I’ve known most of the teachers here for years.”

Hearing this, your stomach sank to the floor. You’d known, of course, there was a feeder school into Russet Ballet Academy. You’d received the same audition letter many years ago, but the cost and distance had been too much for your family to consider.

While you’d understood the fact that you’d be amongst great dancers, you hadn’t thought specifically about Russet Prep ballerinas. Sabrina’s presence instantly dampened your mood, since the way she glanced at you confirmed what you already knew. 

She had a leg-up, she knew it and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Leaning back on the futon, you slowly sipped your drink. “Did you just come here to say that?” you asked. “Or did you want something else?”

Multiple heads turned to face you. Irene’s lips twitched and beside you, Noelle let out a laugh. Based on their reactions, you got the feeling that Sabrina wasn’t very well-liked by her peers. 

Smile vanishing, Sabrina met your gaze. “That was all,” she said. “Just wanted to ask if you could keep it down. Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously.”

With that, she turned and stalked from the room. The door slammed shut behind her and silence lingered – until Noelle snorted and others began to laugh.

“Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously,” Noelle mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Like we all didn’t bleed into our pointe shoes to be here.”

The rest nodded in agreement and slowly, the conversation shifted to other topics. Although you joined in, uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. It seemed some of dance’s cattiness had followed you after all. You weren’t truly surprised by this; after all, you were barely three months older than you’d been in high school. It was too much to expect people to become adults overnight.

Still, at least there was one cause for celebration this evening. The fact that you’d arrived at Russet meant you no longer had to compete against your most fierce rival.

For the next four years, Park Jimin, utter bane of your existence, would be nowhere in sight.

Early the next morning, you stood in line for registration at Danley Hall and awaited your schedule.

“Honestly.” Noelle stood on her toes to peer down the hall. “Why do they insist on handing these things out in person? We could easily get them online and skip all this nonsense.”

“We need to take our ID card photos,” you pointed out. “But yeah, it sucks. You’d think they could’ve at least assigned us time slots.”

“Dancers.” Noelle shook her head. “Great at conceptualizing abstract choreography – not so great at administrative tasks.”

You laughed, facing forward as the line started to move. It stopped shortly thereafter, as did you, rearranging the bag on your shoulder. You recognized several people from last night and waved hello to them all, receiving greetings in turn.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you jumped in surprise. Pulling it free, you smiled when you saw the name of your boyfriend.

“Oooo.” Noelle peered over your shoulder. “Who’s that? Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, swatting her arm as you opened his text. “It’s my boyfriend, Finn.”

“Finn’s a good name.” Noelle moved forward in line. “Strong. Noble. Damn, though – are you two doing long distance? Brave souls.”

“No – thank god. Finn’s at Redfield University. His orientation was last week, so we’re planning to meet up later tonight.”

“Redfield? That’s so close!” Noelle gushed. “Wow, you two are so lucky. And Redfield is a great school, too. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“Well, as long as you do,” you laughed. 

“What’s he saying? Wishing you luck with registration?”

“That, and asking where I want to get dinner tonight.”

“Sickeningly cute. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a great person.”

You snorted, about to respond when someone called your name.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?”

Head jerking up, you saw a man at the office waving you forward. It seemed your time had finally come.

“That’s me!” you said, stepping from line.

The first stop at registration were two, tiny desks set before the main office. Past these, you could see someone finishing up their student photo. A bright flash went off, momentary blinding as you winced and faced forward.

“Here you go!” you said, placing your paperwork down. “Everything should be in order.”

The paperwork man barely nodded, grabbing the folder to rifle through. He seemed content to take his time and you quickly grew bored, glancing around the lobby. Much of your class was waiting in line, looking amusingly enough like a middle school dance. There hadn’t been general orientation yet, so most people had only met those in their (single-sex) dorm last night. Groups of boys and girls awkwardly faced off from across the hall.

While you waited, you began to size people up. It was unintentional, but you knew you’d be paired with someone for ballet and it seemed better to get a head start than not. Most people were unfamiliar to you, and you’d made no meaningful progress when a new voice said your name.

“Y/N?”

Freezing in place, you continued to stare at the hallway before you.

You knew that voice. It was one you could’ve identified in the depths of Tartarus itself – which honestly, was the only place you’d imagined hearing said voice again, since it belonged to Park Jimin. Top hellion of the underworld.

Slowly, you turned and had your worst suspicions confirmed.

Park Jimin stared back at you in the hall.

He wore a jean jacket, white t-shirt and golden sunglasses perched on his head, despite being indoors. Every part of his attire screamed pretentious, but no one around you seemed to notice. Instead, a buzz spread over the crowd as more and more people realized who you were talking to.

Before you could compose yourself, you demanded, “What are you doing here, Park?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the distance between you.

“So, you’re not even going to try and be pleasant?” he asked, coming to a stop. Casually, he looked you up and down. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d stopped dancing, or something.”

Subconsciously, your hands balled into fists. Jimin had a way of getting under your skin that no one else did – even though admittedly, you could’ve just said hello. You didn’t have to act like he was the anti-Christ, even if he was.

“I didn’t stop dancing,” you said to him through gritted teeth. “You know that perfectly well.”

Jimin shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that? The last time I saw you, you were limping around like you were on your last legs. I just assumed.”

“I… was not limping,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

“Weren’t you on crutches?”

“My doctor made me use those!”

“Aha!” Jimin grinned, triumphant. “So, you were injured.”

“I had tendonitis,” you shot back. “Hardly fatal, Park. I’m fine now.”

“Right.” Jimin glanced at your feet. “Hope it doesn’t come back.”

From anyone else, you might’ve taken the words at face value, but this was Jimin. He’d never wished for your success before, so it would be foolish to imagine otherwise now.

Gaze hardening, you took another step forward until you stood nose-to-nose. Well, nose to chin was more like it. Jimin had grown since you first began competing against one another. You remembered a time when you both were the same height. This had once been a source of great amusement for you, choosing to stand directly before him at awards ceremonies.

You opened your mouth to tell him off when the paperwork man said your name again.

“That’s me!” you blurted, spinning around.

Jimin would have to wait, you decided as you strode forward. The paperwork man looked at you in alarm, clearly not used to having such enthusiastic participants.

“Uh, I know,” he said slowly. “You confirmed your name earlier. The photographer is ready,” he added, nodding towards the room Jimin had vacated.

Cheeks burning, you accepted your paperwork and nodded. Although you purposefully didn’t look at Jimin as you left, you could feel him smirking at you from behind.

Refusing to give him the time of day, you brushed past – or you would’ve, but the space was too small for dramatics. You nearly elbowed him in the spleen as you went, forced to squeeze against the wall in an undignified fashion.

Still, you didn’t look back as you entered the ID office. Some of your anger became transparent in your photo-taking, though – this much was obvious when you were handed your ID. Staring at this in horror, you remained frozen in the hall when Noelle finished and joined you.

“Oh, shit,” she said, glancing at your ID. “I feel a lot better about my photo now.”

“Hey!” you said, hand curling around the photo.

Despite this, you laughed, since she was right. On a scale of model to mug shot, your ID was definitely on the latter end.

As you walked away, you shook your head and shoved the ID in your bag. In the corner of one eye, you could see Jimin lingering while he talked with other students. You recognized no one in his group, except for a guy you thought you’d seen on YouTube. Hope on the Street, or something. Probably on the hip-hop track.

“Seriously, though.” Noelle looked at you sympathetically. “What happened? Photographer tell you he was going to murder your family?”

“Ugh, no,” you groaned. “Just got in my own head.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that you were talking to Park Jimin right before had nothing to do with it?”

Blinking, you glanced at her in surprise. “You saw that?”

“Kind of.” Noelle looked a bit guilty. “I mean, it’s hard not to notice Park Jimin wandering the halls.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at this.

It was unprofessional, but your feud with Jimin went back so far, it was hard for you to be completely impartial. Your rivalry had begun when you’d both been picked to demonstrate the combination at NUVO dance convention and Jimin had tripped you while in the front row. He’d apologized afterwards, claiming ignorance, but you’d seen enough of his dancing by then to know Jimin didn’t make mistakes.

He’d tripped you on purpose.

Jimin was known on the competitive dance circuit, like you, but he had an almost cult-like following on YouTube and TikTok. Rumor had it, he’d been asked to join Ariana Grande on tour the previous summer, which was why you’d thought for sure you were rid of him. It seemed this was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you neared Jimin in the hall. “He’s here, alright.”

Noelle hid a smile. “You don’t like him.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Noelle, gazing wistfully at his butt as you passed.

“Noelle!” you snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“Huh?” Blinking innocently, she returned to you. “Oh, you said – oh. Sorry. Though you said something different.”

The smile she gave was incorrigible though and, despite your best interests, you laughed.

“I mean, he does have a nice butt,” Noelle argued. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that,” she continued once you were out of earshot.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“I mean, he’s a dancer!” you sputtered. “We all have nice butts.”

“Valid counter-argument,” Noelle said as you walked outside. “But seriously, he’s not a good guy?”

Paused on the sidewalk, you turned to glance at the building. Danley Hall rose above you; the location of class every day for the foreseeable future. Some of that now felt tainted by the prospect of seeing Jimin every day, as well.

With a sigh, you met Noelle’s gaze. “No,” you said at last. “We were rivals all throughout high school and believe me, there aren’t enough terrible superlatives to describe Park Jimin. He’s the most annoying, most childish, least humble–”

“–biggest suck-up, least trustworthy, mind-numbing idiot,” you finished, stabbing your salad with a fork.

Finn laughed at you from across the table. By this point, your feud with Jimin was old news to him. Shaking his head, curly brown hair flopped into his gaze.

“Damn, Y/N,” he said sympathetically. “That sucks. Can’t believe that jerk had the audacity to follow you to Russet. Sounds to me like he can’t get enough of you.”

Ignoring this, you rolled your eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that. Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s just Russet, you know? The most prestigious dance academy in the country. I just don’t understand how I didn’t know this,” you sighed, still troubled by the thought. “How come I didn’t know he’d be in the freshman class?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a Facebook?”

Most of the freshman class had connected on Facebook, at least before someone made a What’s App chat for the group. Finn was probably right about Jimin not giving out his social media.

 “That’s probably true,” you grumbled. “But still.”

Finn laughed at your expression. Reaching across the table, he squeezed your hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “You beat him for what – four years? So, this is just another four years of putting him in his place. You’ll be fine.”

He was right, although in all honesty, Jimin had won about fifty percent of the time against you. It was one of the reasons you’d pushed yourself so hard in high school.

“You’re right,” you said, somewhat mollified.

“Of course, I am,” Finn said, letting go of your hand. “You’re talking to a man who put his loft bed together alone. By hand.”

You looked at him in alarm. “Did you at least use the manual?”

“Please, Y/N. Men don’t use manuals. We don’t believe in them, much as we don’t believe in cleaning, cooking, or coming in second.”

“Gross,” you groaned, throwing a cherry tomato at him. “Worst ad ever for the male sex. Besides, it’s not true – I beat Jimin in dance plenty of times.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn laughed. “He doesn’t count.”

Something about the way he said this made you sit a bit straighter. Finn resumed cutting into his steak, but you continued to stare at him across the table.

“What do you mean by that?” 

Finn looked up in surprise. “Well, you know. It’s not like he’s super manly.”

You stared at him, bewildered.

“I mean, he wears tights, Y/N.”

At this, your eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like you were Jimin’s biggest fan – you despised him, actually – but Finn’s argument was just stupid, even if he meant it as a joke.

“And?” You tilted your head. “He also bench-presses women above his head for fun. Are you being serious? Just because he –”

“Whoa, wait – I was kidding,” Finn said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just meant it as a joke, you know, since you hate the guy. Truce?”

You hesitated, still miffed, but ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it. Finn truly looked sorry and this was Jimin, after all. Not that this made it better, but sometimes you grew tired of lecturing your boyfriend. Sometimes, it was just easier to let things go.

“I – yeah,” you said after a long pause. “Fine. Truce.”

“Come on.” Finn smiled and reached for your hand again. “You’re not really mad, are you?” He looked hopefully at you from beneath his curls. “Jimin’s the worst. What’s got you this upset?”

Sexism and toxic masculinity, you wanted to say, but he was right. This was Jimin and you hated that guy. It felt kind of weird to want to defend him to your boyfriend.

Still, though. Finn’s comment was annoying; it was one thing for you to insult Jimin. You did it based on Jimin’s merit, his talent, and the way he kept beating you. You’d never once insulted Jimin because of his gender. In the oddest of ways, it felt like your boyfriend had insulted you when he put down male dancers.

“I’m just annoyed by the whole situation,” you said at last, settling on a half-truth. “I hate the fact that Jimin won our bet.”

Finn nodded in sympathy, settling back in his seat to eat the rest of his meal.

You stared at your salad, no longer as hungry as you had been before. Remembering the bet had thoroughly ruined your appetite.

The bet had been made Senior year, a consequence of years of competition with no real declared winner. Jimin had been the one who suggested it, albeit after you goaded him into it. 

It had been your first competition of the season and you’d taken home the top trophy – First Overall in the Senior solo category. Jimin had come in second and when you met backstage, both holding your awards, you’d come to a stop to size one another up.

“Nice trophy,” Jimin said, his tone dripping with derision.

“Right?” Turning it over, you examined it. “Not sure where I’ll put it, though. My shelves at home are pretty full.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jimin said. “Competition is pretty stiff this season. I doubt you’ll win again.”

“Are you referring to yourself as my competition, Park?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me,” you said, stepping closer. “After all, I beat you today. I can do it again.”

“Really?” He smirked. “What competitions are you going to this season?”

You told him, listing them off one by one without looking away.

Jimin listened and nodded. “I’ll be at four of those. How about a bet, then? Whoever wins First Overall at three of the five competitions declares themselves the winner.”

“Hm. What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” 

You paused, considering the implications of such a bet. “I don’t get it, though. What does the winner win?”

“Uh, our rivalry? Bragging rights for eternity? Pride? Take your pick, Y/N.”

“Pride,” you said with a snort. “Like you have any of that.”

“I don’t. Let me win it.”

You had to clamp your lips together to keep from laughing; it would’ve ruined your image to laugh at your declared enemy’s joke.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “But here’s what I want in return – are you listening, Park?”

“Trying to.”

“At the end of this season – when I win – I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m the better dancer.”

Jimin’s smile widened. “And what if I win?”

“Impossible. But if you do,” you allowed. “I’ll tell you you’re the better dancer. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.

Shaking your head, you returned yourself to the present and took another bite of your salad.

“We were tied,” you said, the same anger returning. “Jimin had won twice and I had won twice. It wasn’t fair that he just got to win because I forfeited the last competition. I was injured!”

Finn nodded in agreement, just as he had every other time you’d told him this story.

Feeling a little bit guilty, you pushed your tirade aside and tried to focus on dinner. A bet from Senior year wasn’t really important in the long run. All that mattered was that you and Jimin had ended up at the same place.

Still – you couldn’t help but worry he’d pop up one day to make good on the promise. You still hadn’t told him he was the better dancer; it’d be even more humiliating to do so now, surrounded by all your classmates from Russet.

“Anyways,” you said with a sigh. “Enough about him. How was your day?”

Finn began a story about the supposed shower-caddy thief on his floor and you settled back, nodding and laughing at all the right times. Listening to Finn talk was comforting. He reminded you of home, of family dinners and long drives and date nights at the movie theatre.

Being in his presence felt like second semester Senior year – that invincible feeling of knowing where you were headed and feeling unstoppable. Having him in the city made the transition to Russet slightly less terrifying. He was your single known in a future of unknowns.

Well, except for Jimin. Jimin was also known, but in the opposite way. The thought of him was anything but calming; he made your jaw clench, blood pound and heart start to race. 

Even in looks, Jimin was the complete opposite of Finn. Where Finn had floppy, brown curls, Jimin’s blonde hair was usually swept back from his face. Finn was a light-hearted guy, always talking with his hands and laughing at nothing, whereas Jimin was nothing but intense. Every time you saw him at competitions, he was either practicing or sleeping. There was no in-between.

Finn took things one day at a time, which was something you envied. You always felt you were hurtling towards something, the days passing by too quickly to do everything that you wanted. It was part of what made you a good couple, you decided. Finn took things slowly and you sped him up.

Aside from his major, Finn’s future was wide open. He had no real direction other than to learn and have fun, which you also envied. As much as you wanted to have fun at Russet, you knew there wasn’t much time on your chosen career path. Each second counted and you couldn’t afford to waste one.

Starting that night.

Finn walked with you back to campus, dropping you off at Grace Hall with a lingering kiss. It became more heated than you anticipated, each of you panting when you broke things off to head inside. It had been a week since he’d come to Redfield, which was the longest you’d been apart since you lost your virginity to Finn at the start of the summer.

The sex had been good as of late, but Noelle was inside and you had no desire to hook up with your boyfriend in the bushes outside your dorm.

Once you’d returned, you collapsed on your futon and groaned when you read the schedule for tomorrow.

Noelle laughed from her bed. “Copson’s ballet class?”

“Copson’s ballet class,” you agreed with a sigh.

Vlad Copson was known, even to the incoming freshmen. He was a brilliant dancer and choreographer, but utterly terrifying as a teacher. Rumor had it every freshman was assigned to him their first year just to lower the class number from eighty to seventy.

You didn’t believe this, of course, but that didn’t keep your insides from churning. As you tried to fall sleep later that night, you realized with certainty that this was a beginning. Everything you’d done before now, everything you’d once achieved no longer mattered.

Everyone at Russet was on the same foot and all that mattered was what lay before you. Not at all cheered by this thought, you pulled up your covers and eventually fell asleep.

Vlad Copson turned out to be exactly what you had pictured; an immaculate man with a stern demeanor, wearing the exact same dress code he expected of his students.

He stood before the class the next morning, next to the stereo with both hands clasped before him. 

“Welcome,” he said, looking over his students. “I’m Vlad Copson, but you may call me Mr. Vlad for the duration of class. This is Ballet, Level 1.”

Approximately twenty faces stared back, caught in a mixture of certain awe and terror. You knew yourself to be among them, standing at the back of the room with Irene and Noelle. You’d been relieved to find them both in your classes, since there were two other schedules they could’ve been sorted into.

Unfortunately for you though, prep school Sabrina and hellion Jimin were also part of your schedule. They stood at the front on the opposite side and you did your best not to look at them, knowing no good would come from it.

Everyone in class was dressed exactly the same. The women wore leotards, buns, ballet belts, tights and pointe shoes. By this stage in your career, you were expected to do the entirety of ballet class on pointe. There had been much rosin-ing and banging of shoes before the class had started.

“Thank you to those who were on time,” Mr. Vlad said, casting a pointed glance at a boy near the front. Said boy had entered the room a few seconds after 8:00 AM. “For today, I’ll be lenient and let everyone stay. From now on though, class will start promptly on the hour. Those who aren’t ready will be asked to leave and come back when they can respect my time. Understood?”

A ripple of voices chorused yes.

“Good.” Mr. Vlad arched a brow. “You may have heard I’m a tough teacher. This is true. I am hard on my students, since you’re expected to be the best. Do you know how many applications Russet received this year alone? Nearly two thousand, and these were only from those who felt qualified to apply. Russet is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I expect everyone who enters my classroom to act like it.”

Listening to him speak sent a bead of sweat down your neck. Although he didn’t say it specifically, you knew what Mr. Vlad meant. There were two thousand qualified individuals waiting to take your place if you failed. And that didn’t even include other students at the Academy, or even other dancers who waited out in the real world.

“For those who make it to the end, this will be a life-changing event.” Mr. Vlad paused. “There are teachers here who are far better than I – and I’m considered to be one of the best in the world. You’ll be pushed to your limits, but you’ll also grow at a tremendous pace. We gave you a spot because we believe in each of you. Prove us wrong, though,” he warned. “And that will be that.”

A lingering silence fell and in that quiet, you and Noelle glanced at each other. Again, you were glad for a friendly face. The entire speech would’ve been unbearable without one. 

The boy who’d been late was as red as a tomato, clearly embarrassed at having been singled out. You would’ve felt bad, except you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Mr. Vlad put someone on the spot. The attention could easily swing to you before the end of class.

“That’s enough chit-chat, I think.” Mr. Vlad turned towards the stereo. “We’ll start at the barre.”

No one moved and once he’d reached the music, he arched a brow. “Why is everyone still standing in the center, gawking? Barre!”

Had you been watching from outside, it might’ve seemed comical how quickly everyone scattered. You and Noelle chose a barre near the front, setting water bottles down and moving to stand at the center.

Placing yourself in first position, you turned your head and surveyed yourself in the mirror.

“Eyes on me, not the mirror!” Mr. Vlad called, forcing your gaze his way. “Before we get started, I’ll assign your ballet partners for the semester. You won’t do anything with them until across the floor, but I hate to disrupt our flow later on. When I call your name, raise your hand.”

Your heart sank as you turned to face forward.

This was something you’d known was coming. Ballet partnering was part of the set first year curriculum, but you’d been under the severe misimpression you’d be allowed to choose your own partner. Information on the process had been limited and you’d heard conflicting accounts from upperclassman before your arrival. Apparently, the teachers did something different each year.

“Ahn, Irene!”

Irene raised her hand, waiting awkwardly to hear her partner’s name.

“Olson, Brian! You two are partners.”

The red-faced late boy looked at Irene in alarm, then nodded. Irene nodded as well, lowering her hand and Noelle winced.

“Sucks,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Already paired with trouble.”

Privately, you agreed. It’d be unfortunate to be partnered with someone who’d already been singled out. You could only hope your assigned partner would be better than that. 

Mr. Vlad turned. “Y/L/N, Y/N!”

Your hand immediately lifted, waiting for what seemed like forever, until –

“Park, Jimin!”

 Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIMIN! Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted. 

RAISE THE BARRE MASTER LIST  

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #jimin series #jimin writing #bts writing #bts e2l #jimin e2l

[darkorderaf]

may I request Kenny Omega teaching his girlfriend how to play a video game, then gets playfully mad when she beats him?

Oh, what a very cute idea. I just rewatched The New Day vs The Elite at Street Fighter and it was so good. Kenny and video games is a chefs kiss combo. The game I’m using is BlazBlue: Cross Tag Battle as it’s one of my favorite fighting games! Here’s some soft gamer!Kenny, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC. Rating: G. Warnings/Content: None; just fluff! Word Count: 1,074.

(I don’t own gif; credit to stukky!)

“So, first things first, do you want to use the fight stick--” Kenny paused to slap his coveted fight stick. “Or do you want to try the controller?”

She eyed the two with her chin in her hand and squinted in thought.

“Are they not the same thing? I mean, they’re pretty much the same thing, right?”

She knew the difference but it was cute to watch Kenny explain it anyway. How the fight stick experience was far more authentic than the controller but then backtracking to say that the controller was valid too, just in case she opted for that one. Bless him. He talked with his hands and nearly dropped the fight stick in excitement when she leaned over to tap it. She had made her choice.

“Excellent choice, my love,” he said as he set it on her lap. She didn’t know where he pulled it from behind the couch but another fight stick was in his hands. “I got another one in case of just such an occasion.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said with a laugh. Slowly, she flicked through the characters. “I think I’m going to pick a team with a solid theme.” She knocked his thigh with her knee. “You’ll never guess it.”

“You’re going with the cat-themed fighters, aren’t you?”

Her eyes snapped over to look at him, playfully wide as she glanced quickly back and forth between the screen. Already, she had picked Rachel (cat umbrella), Jubei (cat man), and Blake Belladonna (cat ears). Kenny cocked his head at her, brows lowered to really scrutinize her. She comically swallowed before she spoke up.

“...There’s a chance.”

She could listen to Kenny talk games for hours so when he decided to show her through every basic combo and function of the game, she listened intently. A smile on her face and affection in her eyes.

“Enough talk, Omega,” she suddenly declared when he showed her how to block. She threw back the rest of her water and fixed him with a strong stare. “I think you’re just stalling because you’re a scaredy cat.”

“O-ho, strong words from the rookie fighter,” he countered. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. A calm passed over him as he selected their arena. “Shall we begin?”

“We absolutely shall.”

The first round went to him and she would give him that but she was a quick study. The second round was a little shakier for him and she made note of the way Kenny leaned a little more forward, pressed the buttons a little harder. He edged out a win with that little nervous laugh of his. He changed up his team while she kept hers just where she had them. She rested her forehead on his shoulder as he selected his new fighters.

“How are you doing, babe?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Kenny said quickly. “Are you having fun?”

“Mhhhm, I’m having a great time.”

By the third round, she was confident with her team and they agreed to a best of five to determine the winner of the night. Round three and round four, complete slobberknockers in her opinion, went to her and she cheered in excitement. Kenny made a show of shakily drinking his water and swallowing it loudly. She smiled at him and he smiled politely back.

“You’re not doing bad, sweetheart,” he said, that easy confidence of his back in his voice. The kind that she had heard him take in the ring from time to time. “But I’m the best in the world for a reason.”

Five minutes later, Rachel Alucard stood triumphantly in the arena with her cat umbrella. She knew her cat-themed team wouldn’t let her down. Kenny stared at the screen with dead eyes. Carefully, he lifted his fight stick off his lap and set it on the coffee table. He wordlessly walked away, shoulders a little hunched. She sucked in her cheek as she watched him disappear down the hallway.

When she went into the bedroom, she found him comically curled on his side and staring at the wall. Her cat picked that time to jump up onto the bed and meow at him.

“I don’t think I want to see a cat for the rest of my life,” he murmured. “No. Never again.”

“Really?” She gathered the cat up in her arms and sat on the edge of the bed. She waved the cat’s paws at Kenny, her chin on top of their furry head. “You never want to see this cat again? Your favorite cat?”

Tentatively, Kenny reached out and scratched under the cat’s chin. Pleased that the cat wasn’t going to combo him into oblivion, the man sat up with a sigh.

“Fine, I guess this cat is okay,” he said. “At least they’re not going to combo lock me into a wall.”

She rolled her eyes and let the cat go to resume its wandering. She took Kenny’s hand in hers and gave him a comforting pat.

“It’s okay, Kenny, we all know you’re the best in the world,” she said softly. “Just not when you're facing an army of cats.”

He tried to frown at her as long as he could, which wasn’t verylong at all. Not with the way she smiled so triumphantly at him. He sat up and held her face between his hands. He kissed her softly and smirked against her lips.

“I’m just a good teacher,” he whispered as he set his forehead against hers, his eyes narrowed as they looked into hers. “That’s all. Beginner’s luck.”

“Sure, sure,” she said with a wry grin. “That’s all it was.”

He frowned at her then ghosted his fingers against her sides and grinned at the way her muscles tensed. No, he wouldn’t dare. Thankfully, Kenny relented and simply held her.

“We’ll see how the next game goes,” he said and gave her another quick kiss. “It’s going to be Street Fighter, a cat free game! That means you’re completely and utterly doomed.”

He squeezed her waist again and hopped off the bed with a maniacal laugh to set the next game up. The man was ridiculous and she loved him. And he loved her, just as equally ridiculous. She picked the cat up before she followed Kenny out of the room. Her voice lowered to where only her furry friend could hear her.

“We’ll let him win this time, huh? For your sake.”

#kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fic #kenny omega fanfiction #aew imagine #aew fanfiction #aew fic #wrestling fic #wrestling imagine

[westcoastrry]

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #haryr styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc #harrystyles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #ha

[sasspan]

summary: in another world, black and white grow up next to each other. 

wordcount: 8k+

----

He meets White for the first time when he is five years old.

Her family moves into the house across the street from Professor Juniper’s lab, the one that’s been empty since last November, when the old couple living there moved to Undella. After the moving van drives away, what’s left behind is a little girl in a fluffy white dress and a horde of boxes.

Bianca loves her because she finally has another girl in the neighborhood, and they can play tea-party together. Cheren is a bit more guarded at first, but White is sensible in a way Black and Bianca aren’t, and he ends up liking her because of that.

Black doesn’t much like her at all.

She’s...weird, for a little girl, but maybe that’s just because the only other little girl he’s ever met is Bianca. She’s kind of bossy (“Just like you, Black!” says Bianca cheerfully) and obsessed with playing make-believe. Not even fun make-believe, like pretending Black just beat the Elite Four, or Black just caught a cool pokémon, but boring stuff, like pretending to be at a hospital or a restaurant. White is always “the director” that bosses everyone around, and it’s the most annoying thing ever.

One day, two weeks after they first meet, it becomes too much to bear. Black stomps away from where White is officiating Cheren and Bianca’s fake wedding (dumb!), and then runs back to his own house, his own yard.

He pulls two pokéballs out of his pocket.“You guys are my only friends now,” he whispers down to Brav and Musha. They blink up at him affectionately through the red domes of their pokéballs, and he’s sort of comforted.

Gravel crunches behind him.

“You didn’t have to leave,” says White’s voice.

Black scowls at the ground, not turning around. “Well, it looked like you all were having a great time without me.”

More crunching. The hem of her poofy dress appears in the corner of his eye. She says, in a lofty tone, “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Spoilsport? She’s the spoilsport! She’s the one who ruined everything by coming here. He rounds on her, ready to tell her just that—

“Are those your pokémon?” White’s eyes are huge. “Awesome!”

Black blinks, his anger forgotten. In the business of the past few weeks, he hadn’t gotten a chance to bring Brav and Musha out that much. He sticks his chest out proudly. “Yep. This is Brav—he’s a rufflet— and Musha’s a munna.”

He expects her to go all gaga over Musha—Bianca always squeals about how pink and fluffy he is—but White zeroes in on Brav. “Wow! He’s so cool. I bet he would make a great heroic character.”

Brav preens under her attention, and she turns to Musha. “And this one has a mysterious aura, don’t you think? Look at that purple mist coming from its head! So dramatic. Perfect for special effects.” She looks over at Black, her eyes sparkling with ideas. “If you come back, we could do a whole fantasy scene! You can be the knight with Brav…and Bianca can be the princess…and Cheren, the evil fog wizard! I’m the director, obviously.”

It actually sounds…kind of fun. But—“Only if me and Cheren get to have a pokémon battle,” Black insists.

White thinks it over for a second. “Fine. But you have to remember your cues, okay?” She grabs him by the arm and starts walking back towards Cheren and Bianca, pulling him along with her.

Black lets her. He thinks, well, maybe she isn’t so bad after all.

*

* *

He makes a promise to White for the first time when he is seven years old.

They’re sitting in Bianca’s backyard, all four of them. Cheren is telling the girls about the time he and Black wrote down their dreams in their journals; how Black’s was “to win the Pokémon League” and Cheren’s was, “to support Black’s dream”.

“Oh!” exclaims Bianca. “Me, me too! I’ll support Black’s dream too!”

Cheren nods importantly and writes this down as Black grins at Bianca.

They all turn to look at White, expectant.

“No, thank you,” says White primly. “I’ll be too busy with my dream to help Black.”

“What!” cries Black, equal parts offended and shocked. “You don’t have a dream!”

“Just ‘cause I don’t shout it out my window every morning doesn’t mean I don’t have one,” she sniffs.

He scowls at her. “Well, what is it?”

“To be the best producer in show business,” says White proudly, “and to create something that both pokémon and people can perform in.”

“Lame,” mumbles Black. It doesn’t sound nearly as cool as becoming Pokémon League Champion, but Bianca and Cheren are looking very impressed.

“…Actually, I changed my mind,” Bianca announces after a moment. “My dream is to support White’s dream.”

“Hey!” Black jumps to his feet, outraged. “That’s not fair!”

White stands up too, crossing her arms and scowling. “So she can support your dream, but not mine?”

“Your dream’s dumb!”

“Not as dumb as yours!”

“Wait…” Cheren hovers uncertainly, but it’s hard to stop Black and White once they get going.

“Best producer in show business? What does that even mean?”

“Ha! Like being Champion isn’t the most cliched goal ever!”

“What’s a clee-shay? Ugh, never mind, you’re such a know-it-all!”

“Know-it-all? You’re the loudest, rudest, grossest little boy I ever--”

“I’ve got it!” shouts Bianca out of nowhere. “You can support each other’s dreams!”

This is surprising enough that everyone else shuts up in order to stare at her blankly.

“What?” says Black.

“Support each other’s dreams,” Bianca repeats, her round face glowing with triumph. “Black!” She points an energetic finger in his direction. “You’ll need things to help you challenge the Pokémon League, right? Pokéballs and potions and stuff?” Black hesitates, then nods unhappily. Bianca pivots. “White! You’ll need help with telling everyone about your big show business plan, right?”

“I guess,” sighs White.

“So, you both can help each other out,” says Bianca happily. “Perfect, right?”

It’s…actually not a bad suggestion. Black needs funds to achieve his dream, he can’t keep mooching off of Cheren’s pocket money forever. But…it’s White. She does have good ideas sometimes, but mostly she’s a pain. And besides, even if he agreed, there’s no way she would—

“Fine,” says White.

What?

“Black,” she says. She looks determined. “My dream is really, really important to me. I have to reach it, no matter what. So…if you help me with my dream, I’ll help you with yours. Promise?”

“O…okay.” He didn’t think she would say yes, but…that’s one thing they can agree on, at least. The importance of a dream. “I promise.”

“You have to pinky-swear,” Bianca insists, but White refuses.

“This is a business deal. We shake hands.” She sticks out her own, her bottom lip jutting out challengingly, like she doesn’t think Black will do it.

Now it’s his turn to surprise her. He takes her hand and they shake on it, their entire arms pumping up and down wildly, their grips tight.

Neither of them wants to be the first to let go.

* * *

He realizes that he and White are the same when he is nine years old.

It’s the night of the annual Pokémon League tournament, and fireworks are blooming in the dark sky above, celebrating Champion Alder defending his title for the fifth year running. Most of the people who live in Nuvema like to gather in the big grassy fields behind Professor Juniper’s lab to watch the light show, but this year Black chooses to stay in his own backyard, laying down a blanket and stretching out on the cool grass. Cheren and White are meeting at the fields, and he knows Bianca’s dad likes to watch the fireworks as a family, so he’s not expecting any company tonight.

But just as the first rocket squeals up into the stars, footsteps sound at the gate.

“Hi,” says White, appearing in front of him.

Black grins, sitting up. “Hey, Prez.” It’s his teasing nickname for her, a little reminder of the promise they’ve made each other.

White scowls halfheartedly, her nose scrunching. “Shut up. Do you wanna come and watch the fireworks with me?”

“What about Cheren?”

“His cousin is visiting from Accumula and his mom said he had to show her around all night.”

“Oh.” Black considers it. “Nah, I think I’ll stay. There won’t be any good watching spots in the field left now, anyways.”

Unexpectedly, White shrugs and sits down next to him, arranging her dress around her knees. “Okay. I guess I’ll stay here and watch it with you, then.”

“Okay,” says Black, blinking. White always manages to surprise him.

For a while there is silence between them, broken only by the shrieks and sputters of the fireworks above. The beginning of the show is usually more basic stuff; rockets and fire-flowers,  pretty but not particularly unique. It’s all a lead-up to the real attraction, the special fireworks that are made by some fancy company in Nimbasa, the ones that make actual pictures out of the sparks.

The special fireworks are always in the shapes of the Champion’s winning team. For the fifth year in a row, that’s Alder.

As the twinkling figure of a vanilluxe bursts into existence in the night sky, Black lets out a quiet sigh.

A shifting sound beside him; White has turned to look at him. “You don’t like it?”

Black shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Huh,” she hums thoughtfully. “I thought you would be excited.”

“Nah.” He used to love the fireworks when he was little, but now they just make him hungrier. The sight of them exploding across the sky sends his mind into overdrive, imagining all the places he hasn’t been yet, imagining the day it’ll be his team all lit up in the stars. “I mean, they’re cool, I guess, but...they just make me feel so…”

“Trapped,” says White softly. The word is almost hidden by the bang of another firecracker.

Black looks at her with wide eyes. That’s exactly it. It’s the feeling of chafing against the safety of everything you’ve ever known, yearning to go beyond, be more. His dream feels like it’s growing every day, too big for his head, too big for his house, too big for Nuvema itself.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “You too, Prez?”

White gives a tiny nod. “I can’t wait to leave here,” she admits, her eyes on her lap like she’s ashamed to say it. “Is that awful of me? I love my family and my friends, I love Nuvema, but it’s not…”

Enough. It’s a selfish thought. It’s something he’s felt a thousand times before.

Another boom above them, followed by a clatter of sparks. He can make out the shape of a volcarona, its wings unfurling like petals. White’s face is lit by the flash, the expression startlingly familiar; her unfocused eyes, the determined set of her brow, her mouth pursed. It’s what Black sees in the mirror every morning, as he begins his daily mantra, I’m going to become Champion, I’m definitely going to become Champion.

Musha’s pokéball twitches at his hip.

A warm feeling spreads in Black’s chest.

She’s just like him.

White doesn’t just have a dream, she’s a dreamer. She chases her goal with a kind of single-minded passion that’s almost ridiculous, that eat-sleep-breathe forward momentum that’s less want and more need. The sort of thing that clouds your head and keeps you from thinking about literally anything else. The sort of thing that other people just don’t get sometimes—that Cheren and Bianca and Mom, despite all their support, can’t understand.

It’s nice to be understood.

“It’s not awful of you,” he finds himself saying. “Uh, I think. Well. Wanting to leave…it doesn’t mean you’re not grateful, or that you’ll never come back…but, there are just some things you can’t do here. And everyone who supports you…they know that too. They wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back if what you really want is…out there.” He makes a vague motion at the sky. “I know I wouldn’t.”

White stares at him for a long moment. her eyes unreadable, then lifts her gaze to the sky, her mouth curling into a soft smile. “Thanks, Black.”

They watch together as the fireworks barrel into their grand finale.

“You know,” she says, “the view from here is actually really nice.” * * *

He says good-bye to White for the first time when he is twelve years old.

Bianca and Cheren have been spending a lot of time with Professor Juniper lately, something about wanting to learn how to help her with her research. Black doesn’t tag along; he’s way too busy training with Musha and Brav or studying battle techniques. But he’d assumed that White went with them; her house is right next to the lab.

But one afternoon, trekking back home from the edge of town, he glances through White’s front window and sees her sitting in the entrance hall, surrounded by a snowstorm of papers.

“Application forms,” she explains after she’s let him inside. “There’s this apprenticeship opportunity at a movie studio, shadowing a real director making a real movie. I could get a chance to work under Stu Deeoh! Can you believe that? Stu Deeoh! Remember when we watched B.T. the Extra-Terrestrial? He directed that!”

Black squints. B.T.? Was that the one with the beeheeyem that made those kid’s bikes fly? “Sounds cool.”

“It is! Ugh, I hope I get accepted. It would be so amazing to work on an actual movie set.” White’s gaze is bright and starry, and Black smiles.

“You’ll get it,” he tells her confidently. If there’s one person he could believe in more than himself, it’s White. “Where is this, anyway? Accumula?”

“Hmm? No, I wish. It’s in Virbank City.”

“Virbank,” he muses. Where was that? Up in northern Unova? “That’s a pretty long commute from here.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go back and forth every day. I’d probably go stay with my aunt in Flocessy. It’s right near Virbank.”

Black feels like the floor just fell out from under him. “What? You’d leave Nuvema?”

“Yes, of course.” White looks nonplussed. “That’s what we’ve always talked about, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…” He’s always assumed that they would be leaving Nuvema together. Black racks his brain for a reason for her to stay. “What about getting a Pokédex?”

“That’s your dream, not mine,” she reminds him.

“Oh…yeah.” He’s a bit put out. He’d sort of hoped she would change her mind about that. He tries again. “Bianca would really miss you, you know.”

“Just Bianca?” White asks slyly.

She has a knowing smile on her face, and Black is suddenly embarrassed. “Cheren too. And, uh, Brav. And Musha.” His face burns as he says the next words, but whatever. “And, well. Me.” She’s his best friend. Of course he’ll miss her.

“Oh, Black.” White’s eyes are soft. She reaches out and gives his arm a quick squeeze. “I wish we could leave together too. But this is something I can’t pass up. You understand, right?”

Black sighs. Yeah. He understands. More than anybody.

White gives his arm a final pat before returning to the application. “And who knows? I might not even get this apprenticeship.”

She gets the apprenticeship, of course.

On the day she leaves for Flocessy Town, Black, Cheren, and Bianca see her off at the edge of Nuvema. Bianca is tearful, Cheren is solemn, and Black is….somehow both jealous and proud. White, looking nervous and excited in her brand-new travel clothes, waves frantically as she disappears over the nearest hill.

Black watches the point where she vanishes. He makes a silent vow to her retreating back; I will catch up, I will. Just you wait. * * *

He meets White for the second time when he is fourteen years and five months old.

Two weeks out of Nuvema, and Black is nearly at the end of Route 1; Accumula’s skyline is in sight, and the trail opens up into a grassy clearing, some sort of park or something.

The area isn’t too busy; in the distance, he can see a group of people setting up some sort of equipment, and a couple of pidove are roosting in nearby tree. The sky is clear, the air is fresh, and Black is full of new-journey energy; it’s the perfect time to shout his daily affirmations into the world.

He launches into them without hesitation. “Grimsley, Caitlin, Marshall, Shauntal! Just wait! I’ll get my badges and come battle you! Champion Alder! You’ll be next! I’m definitely, absolutely, going to be— ”

“Excuse me!” The voice is quieter than his, but so deeply familiar that it makes the rest of his words die in his throat.

“Wha—Prez?” He swings around.

She’s standing a couple yards away, flanked by a pair of disgruntled-looking guys. Her hands are on her hips, her expression similarly indignant; but when she sees his face, it fades to a sort of comical disbelief. “Black?”

In unison they both move forward, meeting in the middle. A moment of hesitation, and then White reaches out to seize his hands. “Black! I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long! I thought I recognized that loud voice of yours...”

Black nods dumbly. It’s bizarre to have her here, in front of him, and not on a tiny Xtransciever screen. She’s both familiar and strange; the same bright eyes, the same lively face—but her hair’s longer now, her hands rougher. He’s both embarrassed and pleased to realize that he’s finally taller than her.

“I got a call from Cheren a few days ago,” she’s saying now. Her expression suddenly becomes stern. “Black! How could you run off without giving Cheren and Bianca their Pokédexes? Professor Juniper says they got damaged and now you have the only one that works!”

“Oh…oops.” He’d had a feeling that he was forgetting something important. “Sorry.”

White shakes her head, exasperated. “I told them they could meet you in Striation to get this mess figured out. You’re heading there to get the Trio Badge, right?”

“That’s ri—”

“Miss White!” One of the guys from before cuts in, his arms waving energetically. “We really must get the camera rolling soon! Our equipment is rented by the hour, you know.”

“Oh! Of course. I’m so sorry for the delay. Please go ahead and finish setting up.” White dips her head apologetically as the two guys start walking away, grumbling to each other. “That was the director of a commercial we’re shooting today. The BW Agency is providing the talent!”

“That’s amazing, Prez.” He’s not surprised she’s already accomplishing stuff like this—she’s still White, after all. “Can I finish my affirmations now?”

White sighs. “You haven’t changed at all. All right, just aim away from the microphones, okay? I need to go and get my star actress ready for her closeup.”

“Oh, right. Gigi.”

White looks pleased. “You remembered. After you’re done shouting, come over to the set and I’ll introduce you to her.”

Black nods. Gigi…what kind of pokémon could she be? White has never mentioned.

She turns to leave, but looks back at the last moment, a fond smile blooming across her face. “And, Black? It’s really good to see you again.”

* * *

He realizes that he and White are different when he’s fourteen years and seven months old.

It’s pretty awesome, getting to travel with her after so many years of planning and arguing and replanning and fantasizing. Well, at first it’s a little weird—they need to relearn each other after so much time apart—but the awkwardness fades away after the first couple of weeks and then it’s like they’d never said goodbye.

Accumula, Striation, Nacrene, Castelia. Pinwheel Forest, the Dreamyard, Skyarrow Bridge, the Desert Resort. Countless routes. They all sort of blur together, but the one constant is White right next to him; sometimes he’s pulling her forward, sometimes it’s the other way around, but most of the time they’re in sync, charging ahead towards their own dreams, side-by-side.

It’s not like they don’t have their disagreements, or times where they’re trying to go in opposite directions. Like when he (accidentally!) breaks some expensive filming equipment while training with Tula. Or when she needs Tep to do a modeling shoot right before his battle with Lenora.

The most annoying thing is that she refuses to tell him what the ‘BW’ in ‘BW Agency’ stands for. He tries to spring random guesses on her in the hope that he can surprise it out of her.

(“Business Whimsicott?”

“No.”

“Boldore…Water?”

“What?”

“Best Wishes?”

“That’s already taken!”)

But if that’s the worst point, then he considers himself pretty lucky.

And he’s gotta admit, it’s cool to see White at work. Running the BW Agency is a ceaseless whirlwind of calling and booking and prepping and billing, not to mention the extra workload of planning Nimbasa’s new musical. White handles it all with a practiced grace, juggling the needs of pokémon and people all the same.

It’s a completely different skillset than pokémon battling; all collaboration and communication and…a bunch of other words like that. Either way, White excels at it.

She’s really kind of incredible, all things considered. * * *

He says good-bye to White for the second time when he’s fourteen years and ten months old.

It’s after the awful Ferris wheel incident, and they’re wandering around Nimbasa’s subway station. Marshall and Alder are having some conversation with the subway bosses, and nearby, N’s servine is lurking behind a pole. Black shoots it a suspicious look.

At his side, White is clutching his arm. She’d do this all the time when they were younger and watching horror movies together late at night. Bianca would scream theatrically, Cheren would yelp and babble about how illogically the characters were acting, but White wouldn’t make a sound; just grab onto his arm and grip it tighter and tighter until the credits rolled.

But now, it’s not a jump-scare that’s making her act like this—it’s the shock and pain of losing Gigi, the insidious self-doubt that N seeded in the Ferris wheel.

Even now, after being discharged from the hospital, her face is drawn; her eyes are ringed with dark circles of exhaustion. Her hair is loose from its regular ponytail, rippling down her back in a dark sheet that catches glints of light as she moves. It’s been a long time since Black has seen her like this, and for some reason it’s making him all self-conscious.

He stomps the feeling down. Focus.

White is staring at the subway station’s outer lawn, where the pokémon that Alder had been playing with earlier are still hanging around. Black follows her gaze; she’s watching a darumaka wrestle with a garbodor. It’s a playful battle, the smaller darumaka clambering around the bigger pokémon energetically, releasing small, harmless spouts of flame.

White lets out a long, measured breath. “I just realized,” she says. “I’m—I’m Bianca’s dad.”

There’s a sentence he never expected to hear from her mouth. “What?”

“Bianca’s dad. Remember, how he’d always hold Bianca back because he was scared of her getting hurt, but he just ended up making her doubt herself about everything.” White closes her eyes and shudders. “I…I did the same thing with Gigi! I made her think she couldn’t battle, I made her think she couldn’t protect herself.”

“Prez, that’s not…” He’s at a loss for words, partly because she’s not entirely wrong. But…it’s not the whole story. It’s not that simple. “N’s wrong,” he tells her firmly. “Maybe Gigi was interested in battling, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t want to be an actress! You didn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to. You always wanted the best for her.”

White shakes her head. “How can that be true? I didn’t give her any other options. Pokémon like to battle, I know that! You’ve told me that for years. It was just my own selfish concerns that stopped me…” She looks down, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she looks up, there’s a new fire in her gaze. “Which is why I’ve decided…I’m going to participate in the Battle Subway challenge.”

And that’s how Black ends up standing on the second-floor balcony, watching White try to catch her first pokémon.

He’s more than a little torn about this new development. On one hand, it’s good to see her start recovering from the Ferris wheel incident. On the other hand, maybe this is too much, too soon? She’s never even been in a pokémon battle before…

On the third, selfish ambipom hand, he wants to go on the Battle Subway too. It’s just not fair. Wouldn’t it be more fun to do this sort of thing together?

He groans, slumping forward against the railing as his eyes wander back to the scene below.

Despite the runaround the wild pokémon are giving her, White seems to be in better spirits. She’s pulled her hair back up into the usual businesslike ponytail; Black is both relieved and a little disappointed. A smile tugs at his mouth as he watches her get chased in circles by the deerling she’s trying to catch. He’ll go down there and help her eventually, of course, but what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t get enough ammunition to tease her mercilessly later?

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” rumbles a voice next to him.

Black jumps. “Mr. Marshall?”

Marshall looms at his side. “You’re wishing you could accompany her on the Battle Subway, aren’t you?”

“Um…yes.”

“Why?”

What kind of question was that? “Because…she’s my friend, and we’ve been traveling together.”

Marshall shakes his head, disappointed. “I expect more honesty from my challengers. Make sure you face your feelings by the time you come to challenge me. Now, don’t be a coward! Go help the girl!”

In a flash, he lifts Black over his head and flings him over the railing.

“Black!” White hurries over as he crash-lands into some convenient foliage. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“’S nothing,” he mumbles, pushing away the embarrassment of Marshall’s words. “I’ll tell you later. Looks like you need help right now.”

Nevertheless, as he walks alongside White’s departing train a short while later, he can’t help but wonder; is he being honest with himself? Why does White leaving bother him so much? Cheren and Bianca have gone their own ways; of course White would do the same, eventually.

He just…didn’t think it would be this soon.

The train is starting to pick up speed; he begins jogging. “Good luck,” he tells her. “Just remember everything I annoyed you with when we were kids and you’ll be fine. Type-matchups and special effects and all that. Okay?”

“All right. Thanks for everything, Black.” Some of her earlier melancholy seems to have returned; her eyes are downcast.

There’s no way he can let her leave like this. “Prez!” he calls. “Remember our promise! Even if the BW Agency isn’t active right now…I’ll still keep my promise!”

“Me too.” Her voice is resolute, but so quiet. He has to see her smile before she leaves.

“And, Prez!”

“What?”

“Burned…Wig!”

Her face is uncomprehending for a moment, before realization dawns. She finally breaks into a smile. “No, that’s not it.”

“Belly Wurmple!” He’s running now.

That gets a laugh. “Ew, no!”

“Big Walrein!” The train has outstripped him, and now he’s just shouting nonsense words as it speeds out of the tunnel.

The first pokéball on his belt wriggles; without even looking, he plucks it into his palm and hurls it towards the open window of White’s train compartment.

Of course Brav wants to go with her. She was his very first fan.

* * *

He dreams about White for the first time when he is exactly fifteen years old.

He’s lying in a field somewhere between Driftveil and Mistralton. The sky is darkening above him, the Pokémon League opens in two months, and today is Black’s fifteenth birthday.

It’s been the first birthday Black has spent alone since—since, well, ever. He’s always had his friends at his side, pokémon or human or both. He’s never particularly cared about presents or cake, but....it would’ve been nice to celebrate, somehow.

Black stares up at the twilight stars. He wonders where Cheren is, where Bianca is. He wonders where Brav is. He wonders where White is.

Her birthday was three days ago. He’d tease her about it when they were kids, but Black has always secretly liked that their birthdays are so close. Some years, when they were still little enough to have parties, their mothers would team up and make a combination cake for the both of them; alternating layers of chocolate and vanilla, a forest fire’s worth of candles teetering on top.

He wonders what White did for her birthday this year. He’d tried to send a birthday message over the Xtransciever, but the signal is weak on the routes sometimes, and he’s not sure if it had gone through. Maybe she’d tried to send him a message too, and he’d never received it.

He wonders what she would think of the mess he’s gotten himself into, with Reshiram and the Gym Leaders and Team Plasma. He wonders what she would think of the stone sitting in his bag right now, the title sitting on his shoulders—Reshiram’s chosen, the hero of truth.

What does that even mean?

He doesn’t want to be the hero of truth. He doesn’t even know what the “truth” is. He doesn’t want to be a “hero”, period. He just wants to become Pokémon League Champion, and then go home, and be with his friends.

He wishes he could go back to Nuvema. To those late-summer, apple-golden days, where the world was like an old jumper—a little too small and scratchy, but warm and beloved all the same. Just him and White and Cheren and Bianca, playing make-believe again.

What had they used to pretend? Knights and princesses and wizards. Tumbling around Bianca’s big, sunny backyard, with cardboard swords and aluminum foil hats, Brav and Musha play-fighting between them.

You’re the damsel, Bianca, White had said, and Cheren, you’re the villain. And Black, you’ll be the hero who saves the day, all right?

Yeah, he thinks drowsily. If he has to be any kind of hero…that’s the kind of hero he wants to be. A hero for his friends. A hero for White.

He drifts to sleep.

In his sleep, he dreams, and in his dream, he’s standing at the edge of a—of a cliff, maybe. Except when he looks down, he can’t see what’s at the bottom.

Just sky above him and sky below him and sky all around him.

“Black,” says someone at his side. It’s White, standing on the precipice right next to him.

She smiles at him. Her foot dangles off the edge, dipping into the endless blue. She says, “Are you ready?”

He isn’t sure. Perturbed, he takes a step back. “I don’t know,” he says.

White looks unsurprised. Wordlessly, she holds out her hand.

Black takes it without hesitation. It’s what he’s been doing as long as he can remember; taking White’s hand, and charging forward. Not knowing what was ahead; just knowing they would help each other.

Her fingers are warm and reassuring in his. “I won’t let go,” she says.

Together, they leap off the ledge and into the blue.

That’s when he wakes up. * * *

He meets White for the third time when he’s fifteen years and two months old.

The snow muffles his footsteps as Black trudges aimlessly along Route 6. Behind him, Iris is prancing around and making pointed comments about Bianca and White. For a dragon-type specialist, she sure is chatty in the cold.

He looks up at the wintry-gray sky unhappily. If only someone or something could come and sweep him away. He would even take another ride on Skyla’s swanna at this point. Or, better yet, Brav…

Wait, Brav!

His first pokémon dives into his arms with a cry of delight. Black returns the gesture enthusiastically. “Brav! I missed you!” But wait… “If you’re here, then—”

“Black!” At the top of the next hill, someone is waving.

“Prez?” The rush of gladness hits him like a punch to the chest, but it’s tempered with that strange, fizzling nervousness from the Battle Subway. “Prez!” he shouts, resolutely ignoring Iris’s snicker.

She’s beaming, her cheeks flushed and her hair wind-tousled. “We’re back!” She skids down the slope to meet him and nearly falls over. He catches her by her arms and sets her upright. “Look!” she continues excitedly, waving behind her. “My very own pokémon team!”

“Wow! Amazing!” There’s the deerling he helped her catch, as well as a stunfisk, a solosis, an alomomola, a vullaby…and there, that serperior, with its haughty expression, can only be N’s old servine. “You caught them all by yourself? Great job, Prez!”

“Thanks!” Her eyes have that old sparkle back in them. “I couldn’t wait to show them to you—and this, too!” She produces a very familiar device from her bag.

“Wait, that’s—!”

“A Pokédex!” she finishes for him. “Bianca gave me hers. She wants to start working as Professor Juniper’s assistant now, can you believe it?”

No, he really can’t. Ditzy, soft-hearted Bianca, an assistant researcher? Black grapples with the thought as he fumbles to pull his own Pokédex out.

The two Pokédexes make muted beeps when they’re brought close together. White smiles, her eyes soft.

“It’s like they’re saying hello,” she says. She meets Black’s gaze. “Hello, by the way.”

“Uh, hi,” he stammers. He looks down at the Pokédexes, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “After all that fuss about not wanting a Pokédex when we were younger…you got one anyways…”

“Yep. I guess we’re just the same now, huh?” White seems surprisingly pleased by this development.

Black swallows. “I guess so.”

They smile at each other. It’s a nice moment, until Iris’s muffled laughter ruins it.  

* * *

He makes a promise to White for the second time when he’s fifteen years and two months old.

It’s the night before the start of the Pokémon League quarterfinals, and Black can’t sleep.

His mind is whirring at a million miles an hour, darting through strategies and type matchups, offense and defense, opponents and Elite Four members. Every time he reaches the edge of sleep, a sudden, urgent idea breaks into his head, jerking him back awake.

It’s impossible. It’s exhausting.

He wishes that Musha could be here.

That Dream Eater would suck his thoughts away and give him a moment’s peace. When was the last time he actually felt completely calm? This whole journey has just been one sucker-punch after another, every new revelation veering him further and further away from his goal.

Everything had seemed so simple from the shelter of Nuvema. Reaching his dream had been a series of challenging, but achievable steps.

And now…

Black groans and rolls out of bed. He needs a breath of fresh air. The Pokémon Center that League challengers are housed in has a huge field in the back; usually used for practice battles or training, it should be empty now, with the competition whittled down to the eight quarter-finalists.

But when Black arrives at the edge of the field, someone is waiting for him.

“Hi.” White pats the ground next to her, where she’s already lain out a picnic blanket. “Want to sit?”

“S…sure.” He takes a seat, vaguely stunned by her presence. “How did you know…?”

“Just a guess. I knew before the televised battles, you’d be overthinking a lot…and without Musha…” The rest of her sentence doesn’t need to be said.

They sit together in silence for a while. It’s a clear, slightly breezy night; the winter constellations are twinkling above, and the overgrown grass of the field ripples around them.

It’s all so bittersweetly nostalgic; Black’s heart brims with an intense, quavering mixture of pride and loss. How long has it been since he left Nuvema? Less than a year?

It feels like much longer.

“Remember the fireworks every summer, back home?” White asks suddenly.

He hums assent. Bouffalant and escavalier and accelgor, for as long as he can remember.

“This year,” White says, “it’ll be your team up there.”

She states it with simple, unwavering confidence, so at odds with Black’s own intense doubt…how is it even possible?

“How can you say that?” he demands. “I can’t…I barely made the entrance ceremony. Getting through Victory Road was unbelievable hard. My toughest battles are tomorrow, but I can’t even sleep without Musha’s Dream Eater, and apparently my dreams have gotten so bad, even Musha doesn’t want them!” He pauses to take a breath. White is watching him sympathetically. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “This whole time, I felt like…becoming the Champion was almost inevitable. Maybe I’d have a few setbacks, or even fail the first time I tried…but I always knew I could do it. But…now…”

“I know,” says White quietly. She shifts closer, so their shoulders are pressing together. The warmth of her is comforting in that same nostalgic way. He can almost pretend that they’re five years old again.

“Black,” she begins, her tone suddenly serious, “I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling or thinking right now, but…I need to tell you some things, and you need to listen. All right?”

He nods, mystified.

“All right. Well.” White takes a deep breath. “First of all. N is wrong. I’ve watched you battle for almost my whole life, and there’s absolutely no way Musha sees you just as a source of dreams. I don’t know why he chose to leave when he did, but…I think we should wait and see what happens. Because Musha loves you, Black. I know he loves you. Just like Brav and Bo and Tula and Costa, and Bianca and Cheren and…”

Her words peter off. Black peers at her. “Prez…?”

White’s eyes dart to him. Her face is faintly pink. “Sorry. I got distracted. My point is, you can’t let this burrow into your head and make you doubt yourself during your battles. You owe it to your other pokémon to do the best you can tomorrow! And you need think of everyone who helped you get here. Like Chrissy and Hawes, or the Gym Leaders, or the Junipers. I know how much Musha means to you, but he’s not the only one who wanted to help you succeed.

“You don’t even know how much support you have, Black! How much—how much people believe in you. That kind of belief isn’t blind, it exists because people can see what you’re capable of. So what if reaching your dream is ten times harder than you thought it would be? So what if it’s a hundred times harder? You can still do it. I know you can.

“And, it’s the same with everything that’s going on with N and Team Plasma and the Light Stone; I know it’s ridiculous, and you didn’t expect it, but...I really, really think you would be an amazing hero…if you let yourself. You don’t have to. But you could.” She takes another breath and lets the words sit in the air for a moment, before cupping her reddened cheeks with her hands. “Augh, I keep getting carried away! A—anyways, that’s all I wanted to say.”

Black is staring at her, warmth swelling in his chest even as his mind reels. How long has she been holding all that in? “Um…wow. Thanks, Prez.”

“That’s all you can say? You jerk.” White sighs, but it sounds more defeated than anything. “Well…just keep your eyes on the prize. For both of us. You’re so close to becoming Champion! You probably don’t remember, but you have a chance to make BW Agency really famous, you know.” She smiles and rolls her eyes, like she doesn���t mind that he’s forgotten.

Except he hasn’t forgotten.

Black watches her contemplatively for a moment, then lets out a gusty, decisive sigh. “Arghhh, you caught me. It was gonna be a surprise, but—wait here!” He jumps to his feet.

“Caught you—? Black!” Her bemused voice follows him as he hurries back into the Pokémon Center, then reappears a few minutes later, clutching a wide, flat box.

“Here,” he says, thrusting it in her general direction. He can’t bring himself to watch her reaction as she opens it; for whatever reason, his heart is beating so fast he can hardly take a breath.

He hears her murmur “What is this? A present?”, followed by the rustle of the box opening, then several moments of silence. And then—“Oh, Black.”  

Black looks up and can’t quite speak. White’s eyes are glowing in the dim light, her whole face radiant with such disbelief and joy that his heart actually aches in his chest.

He wants to live in this moment forever.

White lifts the shirt out of the box almost reverently. BW Agency’s logo gleams on the fabric, shiny and new. “It’s beautiful. You’re going to wear it for your Champion battle?”

“Yeah,” Black manages. “I’m…glad you like it.” It’s scary, how happy her happiness makes him.

When had her dream become so important to him…?

White stares at the shirt for a few more seconds, smiling, before turning to him.

“You know, you’re the one who gave me the idea for the agency’s name.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes! It was when we were…eight, I think? Bianca’s dad got mad at us because you knocked over a painting in their house, and he made us all sit down and write an essay about what good, respectful people we would be when we grew up. Cheren was the only one who did it; Bianca just drew pictures, and you—”

“Wrote out a strategy to beat Shauntal!” He remembers now.

“Right! And I was brainstorming names for my future company. But it was hard, because I didn’t know what exactly I would be doing, I just knew I had to…make this group, or organization. I think I was leaning towards White’s Talent Office or something like that. Then Bianca’s dad came to check on us, and you started talking his ear off about battling ghost types—something about how you had to know the shape of the pokémon, more than you had to know what it was made of. It didn’t really make sense at the time, but…I don’t know. I guess I realized that I knew the “shape” of my company, even if I didn’t know what it would be about. So, I came up with the name ‘BW Agency’. Good, right?”

“Really good.” Black stares off into the sky, smiling. It’s impossible to count the number of ways he and White’s dreams have become intertwined; it’s almost like one, singular dream, now.

A thought strikes him. “Wait, Prez…does that mean you don’t actually know what the ‘BW’ in ‘BW Agency’ stands for?” There’s no response. Black looks over. White is intensely scrutinizing her own fingernails. “Prez?”

“Well…not yet,” she says, reluctant. Black starts laughing helplessly. She smacks his arm. “You’re awful!” she cries, but she’s laughing too. “You can’t tell anyone! It’ll ruin my reputation.”

“I promise, I promise.” Grinning, he sticks out his hand. “Look, I’ll even shake on it.”

White narrows her eyes. “No, this is too serious for a business deal. This is life or death.” She offers him her pinky. “You have to swear.”

“Okay, I swear.” He hooks his pinky to her, his left to her right. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she warns.

Black shakes his head fondly; together, they lay back down, their little fingers still linked under the stars.

He dozes off like that eventually, and it’s the best sleep he’s had in ages.

* * *

He says goodbye to White for the last time when he is fifteen years and two months old.

The Plasma castle is in ruins around him, and the shapes of Zekrom and N are rapidly fading into the horizon. The reddening light of the sunset filters through all the dust hanging in the air; strangely, the effect is almost beautiful.

Reshiram lifts her head and emits a long howl. It’s a mournful sound, one that almost brings tears to Black’s eyes.

At his side, White seems to feel the same way. “It must be like her heart is ripping in half. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

He looks at her for a long moment, torn between sadness and relief. “Yeah. Me neither.”

White meets his gaze; there is a wordless moment of understanding.

Black swallows. “Prez,” he begins.

And then everything falls apart.

Reshiram’s call cuts off abruptly into a shriek; at that exact moment, Black feels a familiar, violent tug, like an invisible rope is dragging him forwards.

“What—?” White yelps; at their feet, Gigi lets out a snort of surprise.

“Reshiram’s going back inside the Light Stone,” Black realizes aloud. “Prez! Stay away!”

White scoops up Gigi, and in unison, they edge back from the pull of the Stone. Reshiram’s cries begin to warp and fade, the shape of the dragon folding in on itself.

The strength of the pull starts lessening, and Black lets out a breath. “I think we’re all right,” he says. “Another minute, and we could have gotten pulled in—”

“A lovely idea,” murmurs Ghetsis’s oil-slick voice; and then suddenly Black is weightless, soaring towards Reshiram’s diminishing form.

“Black!” White shrieks.

“Stay back!” he shouts, struggling against Reshiram’s pull, but it’s like trying to get out of a bog; the more he resists, the faster he’s enveloped.

“How poetic,” remarks Ghetsis, stepping out from the shadows of a crumbling pillar. “That the one who ruined my arrangements would be so kind as to bury himself. Good-bye, hero of truth.” He spares a single, mocking glance at White; then the pokémon at his side flashes and beeps, and the next moment, there is no one there at all.

The sun has nearly set. It’s really beautiful. The light spills across the fractured marble and across White’s anguished face.

“Black,” she says, her voice frantic, “hold on, I’m, I’m going to get help…”

But Black knows, in his gut, that it’s too late.

“Prez,” he says. Every word feels like he’s talking through syrup. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to keep my promise.” There’s so much else he needs to say but there’s no time. Clumsily, he undoes his jacket zipper, trying to show her the logo on the shirt, trying to show her that he tried—

“No,” says White suddenly. She turns around and kneels, placing Gigi on the ground away from the Stone. She leans forward, murmuring something into Gigi’s ear, then stands back up.

“Black,” she says again. Her voice is no longer desperate. “A long time ago, we made a promise. That we would help each other achieve our dreams. You haven’t kept your promise to me. And…” She finally turns around. “I haven’t kept my promise to you.”

White looks at him, her eyes a blaze of sorrow and anger and determination.

“So,” she says, and she strides forward, utterly purposeful. “There’s no way you can leave without either of us keeping our word. And there’s no way—” She reaches out, taking hold of his hands. “There’s no way I’ll let you go, ever.”

She draws closer as world becomes blinding; Black can’t speak. There’s a feeling like falling, except it’s not them falling, it’s everything else—the Plasma castle and Gigi and the bloody sky, all falling away, and the only thing left is him and White and the pure, endless light around them.

“Promise?” he manages.

Her hands don’t leave his. “Promise.”

#Pokespe #Agencyshipping #trainer white #trainer black #FINALLY DONEEEEE #will check for mistakes tomorrow sorry in advance #my fic

[mskimkaty]

Quit | J.JH

Angst, Smut, fluff (little bit on the end)

Synopsis: You might think that some people who did you bad have little impact in your life, tip toeing from situations that you knew could repeat the same mistakes but there will always be that one person who will destroy all your resolve and you’ll find yourself fucking your rules for them.

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: love u all. pls enjoy! (not really proof read)

Edit: uhmmm pls don’t judge me but this is actually my bf and my story of how we met to how we become couples. Alright. Enjoy!!!!

You hated how you didn’t take “searching for college schools” seriously, and now, you’re all but stuck for the rest of your college years in the same school you graduated from High school. You know it’s a good school, having to be in the top 7 elite schools all over the country that has an institution that offers all levels of education— but you honestly don’t care about that right now. You wished you didn’t choose the easy road in finding a good college because now you’re stuck with a university that has zero-base for their grading system, 75 marks as their passing grade, and put their students with fully loaded units— having up to 30 units per semester. How Asian can it get?

 Fourth-year high school wasn’t your year, when a particular boy, Jeon Jungkook broke your heart. He was a close friend first before he became someone more than that, you told yourself not to be involved with the likes of him in any way, you first meet during your junior year by a mutual friend—Joy, your best friend, was in the same class as him, thus, the reason the both of you became close.

 Joy warned you about him and you knew because that’s what you told her base on your first impression on Jungkook, but you still tested the waters. And that’s how you broke your heart for the first time, you let yourself trust him despite all the bad things that you heard about him, you ignore everything because you were happy around him, but you were tired of having a relationship without a label and the fact that he doesn’t want you to be seen together speaks so much. You went on a retreat for 3 days in your senior year as it was a requirement for every graduating students by your catholic school, you weren’t going steady per se, but you still talked nonetheless, as he was getting busy with basketball, and you, having the cheerleading competition around the corner, training, exams, and graduation. You both have so much on your own plates.

 You kept on seeing red flags— the way he’s not responding to your calls and messages for a week, you haven’t really seen him around the school as varsity players have their own retreat, and when you saw a photo posted in his Instagram account with a girl in your year. She was a transferee, that’s all you remember after receiving a text message of him saying sorry. You hated how forgiving you can be, you hoped you can be tough and talk back to him— but no, you never had the chance to say what you wanted to say to him. You just let everything go. You can’t even ask someone to comfort you because of the fact you were a secret. You didn’t even know why you agreed with that kind of set up in the first place. Why did you choose something temporarily for a piece of mind? You hated how easy you can get sometimes, but you closed that chapter in your life after cursing him for months in your head and some Friday night parties until you graduated High school.

 And now, you’re in your second year of college and very much single. You received a message from Seulgi, saying that she needs to cancel your plans from eating out because of a midterm exam that got rescheduled she was your best friend together with Joy, Irene, and Wendy since high school but college happened and the five of you went with different schools except for Wendy and Seulgi who enrolled at the same University. You have a heavy sigh, it’s not that you don’t have friends in your own department, you do. It’s just that all your girlfriends have classes and won’t be done until 3 in the afternoon— and you’re very much hungry.

 You saw a very familiar face exiting the lesson hall next to yours and you’re quick on your feet to hide behind the walls of your classroom.

 “Y/n, I’ve already seen you, you know.” Suh Johnny stands beside you with Ten beside him smiling at you, you three both did your handshakes after getting drag out of the room. “Have you eaten already?” Ten asks and you shook your head. Johnny put his arms around your shoulders and the three of you walked out of the campus to eat out.

 “Oppa, what’s that?” you asked Ten preferring to his phone when you all settled down while Johnny browses the menu on what to order. “Jaehyun asked if he can join.” He says to the both of you, you look at Johnny as you both shrugs. Jung Jaehyun was once an IT student, he shifted after a year into your department and incredibly smart in mathematics. He was instantly everyone’s friend in your year.

 “I’m cool with him,” Johnny says and they both look at you. You’re not really fond of everybody and not entirely friendly with everyone. You’ve been close with Johnny and Ten who were much older than you only because you knew them since High school. “It’s cool.” You muttered.

 “But you wouldn’t be comfortable around other people, though.” Ten commented. They were completely aware of your introverted ass. They know what happened to you during your fourth-year high school, not only with Jeon Jungkook but the fact that all of your female classmates during your senior year made you an outcast. You honestly find it funny now, since you know that you have four amazing friends who stuck with you through thick and thin. You wished you had taken up the opportunity when Seulgi asked you to join her for hunting college schools before graduating High school so that you can be with her throughout your college years, but what’s done is done, what happened to you in the past brought you here right now and made you who you are. It wasn’t a problem for you— you like having the quality over quantity. You like how your circle of friends isn’t that big, too many people in your life can cost you too much trouble in the end, you know that because you’ve already experienced it first hand, having many people in your life will only lead you to disappointments.

 You weren’t familiar with Jung Jaehyun, per se, you just had a class with him during the second semester of your first year of college, that one professor you disliked so much teaching algebra instead of business mathematics and had the audacity to fail you. You hated how you got a failed mark while Jaehyun passed the subject despite his absences, you acknowledge him for having a big brain when it comes to numbers but you still find it unfair how he passed and you failed, you wished you could be as smart as him. You first met him when Mark introduced you to him after your Psychology class, you were talking with Mark about your Final output for the subject when he came up to Mark— fist-bumping, while wearing a white hoodie and black jeans, had those big Nike bags that you knew Basketball players uses, his white sneakers clean and you look at yours— completely worn out and definitely needed a new pair.

 He was smiling at you, eyeing Mark while waiting to be introduced to you. That got you rolling your eyes at him unknowingly, making him slightly intimidated with you. You shot Jaehyun a fake smile— he was cute, charming, tall, and obviously another varsity player. God, your skin starts to crawl, another varsity player is being too friendly with you. You bid Mark goodbye, and that was the start of your acquaintances with Jung Jaehyun, he was everywhere, becoming the Mr. Congeniality of your Department in no time when he shifted after a year in Information Technology.

 The three of you waited for Jaehyun to arrive before ordering your lunch, you waited for another minute before the door opened and Jaehyun walked in wearing a black long tee and denim jeans paired with his clean white sneakers. He settled down beside Ten who was in front of you and you started to become uncomfortable. Johnny and Jaehyun decided to get your orders and you were left with Ten in your booth.

 “Y/N, Jaehyun’s a good guy, you already know him for half a year, why are you still uncomfortable around him?” Ten asks you as you heave a heavy sigh. It’s not that you're uncomfortable around him because of your trust issues, you’re uncomfortable because clearly, he’s your type, and you’re not comfortable with the idea of it, you know he already had a girlfriend, you saw his wallpaper for a second when he put it down on the table before locking it. “I’m not. It’s just that—Oppa, can’t I be shy around people?” you countered, Ten looked at you funnily. “Don’t kid with me, y/n- ah. You guys both have International Cuisine, right?” he asks and you nod. “Then, you’ll be around him more often from now on, loosen up, He’s a great guy, if he did something to you, just tell me and Johnny and we’ll take care of it for you.” he flashed you a smile and you brush it off while giggling at him. “Thanks, Oppa, but no thanks.” You say and the two came back with two trays full of food. “It’s on me.” Johnny settled down next to you and you shoot him a grateful smile as the four of you started digging.

 “Are you throwing a party for your birthday?” Johnny suddenly asked, you nod at him and he muttered a small okay while your eyes darted at Jaehyun— it would be totally rude not to invite him for your birthday party when the topic is already laid on the table. Plus, he was looking at the three of you intently, seemingly out of place with the subject of the conversation. “Jaehyun, you should come on my birthday, It’s on the 19th, just some drinks and food on me, nothing too grand.” You find yourself saying and Ten and Johnny were shocked that you invited him. you clear your throat and continued “Can you guys ask everyone? I haven’t seen Yuta, Jungwoo, and Taeil Oppa but I already asked a bunch of people.” You added. They all agreed. “Thanks for inviting me, I think I don’t have anything going on that day,” Jaehyun commented. “Sounds like a plan.” You say and the four of you continued digging in.

 That night on your birthday, everything made a 360-degree turn in your life. Having 23 boys in your flat and some of your girlfriends turn out to be so much fun. When you run out of drinks you find yourself on Jaehyun’s passenger seat as the two of you drive to the nearest store to purchase some alcohol— You and Jaehyun seem like the only person sober enough to walk and drive your way outside the comforts of your home. You felt really comfortable around him, he hasn’t made a move on you or anything, and you think that maybe it’s because he already had a girlfriend and is faithful to their relationship.

 “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend with you?” you asked just to start a conversation. “You knew?” he asked you while throwing you side glances, you nod your head yes. “It’s kind of complicated, plus, we're not official.” He continued which made you shocked, he was being open with you shockingly. “What? Why?” for some reason, it made you really curious. He gives you a heartily chuckle “It’s complicated.” You only nod.

 When you came back to your flat, you and Jaehyun were left to sit together, Mark and Haechan were completely out of it, while Joy and Irene are having a conversation with Jisung and Chenle. It’s nice to see them conversing with each other. Johnny was busy preparing the drinks with Yuta, Taeyong, and Seulgi, while the others are setting up the karaoke on your flat screen Tv hanged on your living room’s wall.

 You thought that was the last time you’ll see Jung Jaehyun, or you thought that was the last time you’ll be together in the same room as well as be at the same table together. You forgot that you both have classes together, that you’re practically in the same department, you honestly forgot that you’re both in the same circle of friends.

 You’ve been closer with the guys as time goes by, they were nothing like the people from your High school, they were honestly cool to be with, it just that, they like to unwind sometimes, and that “sometimes” means every Friday of the week, unwinding with drinks and such. This time, Jaehyun was the host, and Jungwoo together with Taeil managed to dragged and convinced you out of girlfriend nights. You have been hanging out with them more than usual and you were getting closer with Jaehyun, particularly, you keep on looking for him at gatherings and he kept on looking out for you. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between the two of you, you know it was wrong, even if you find yourself giddy and happy when he messages you or when he calls you before you go to bed when the two of you meet in between subjects just to eat together. You knew you were repeating the same mistakes as you did with Jungkook, and you can’t help but fuck yourself because everything is wrong at the same time feels right. How screwed can you get? Why do you always choose temporary happiness over a peace of mind?

 That night, when most of the guys left to go home and some of them left to smoke outside, you find yourself alone with Jaehyun in his living room. You poured him and yourself a shot, the guys were surely taking their time outside. “One-shot.” You tell him and you both down the tequila in seconds, hissing at the taste burning your throats. You stared at him, thinking that you have to start distancing yourself from him, you don’t want to ruin what he had with his girl. Your stomach turns just by thinking about the possibilities of ruining someone else’s relationship. You were better than that.

 You move your gaze away from him, you were about to pour another shot when you felt Jaehyun’s warm hand on your neck pulling you closer. You felt his warm lips on yours, it was sweet and warm, burning you within, but the taste was anything but sweet— you tasted the tequila out of his lips as he licks your bottom lip that got you responding to him, you closed your eyes and find yourself fucking your boundaries for him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer by the waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. You break the kiss as you put your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. He was about to kiss you again when you move your face away from him, trying to put some distance away from him. “Did I do something wrong?” you heard him saying. You wipe the smudged lipstick on your skin below your lips as you face him. “Jaehyun, you’re not completely single.” You said. “But I’m not in a relationship either, I told you months ago, it was complicated.” He sits beside you properly, a hand clamped together as you look at him.

 “Jaehyun, this is non-negotiable. I don’t want to ruin someone’s relationship.” You say, and Johnny walks in. you poured yours and Jaehyun’s shot glass clicking with his before downing it in one go. If Johnny felt the thick air between the two of you, he doesn’t comment on it.

 You choose to forget what happened when all of the guys started walking back inside. Started conversing with Johnny about this student in your department that got kicked out of the university because of some issues. You got your self a couple of drinks before standing up to head to the bathroom, but since it was your first time at Jaehyun’s house you ask him where it was, plus Lucas was incredibly taking his time in the bathroom so Jaehyun leads you to his room instead. “Just use mine, Lucas is taking forever.” He said. You nod and head for the bathroom in his room. His room was surprisingly clean and very much boyish in your opinion, the walls are painted blue, his bed covers are white and was neatly done, the cabinets are on the side while a bunch of basketball trophies is beside his computer.

 When you were done with his bathroom, you find him sitting at the end of his bed, browsing his phone while waiting for you. “I thought you already went down,” you said. Jaehyun looks up at you. “Can I look at your trophies?” you asked him and as he walks to you and standing beside you to look at his achievements during his High school days.

 “Wait, you went to Santa Clara?” you asked him. “So, you know, Jeon Jungkook?” you asked shocked at the information when he said as small “Yes. Why?”

 You shook your head and muttered nothing. “We went with some tune-up games in the past, but I know him, he and his group keep on hitting on our cheerleaders it was kind of funny.” He says to you and you laughed. “What’s new, but— wow, what a small world.” “Oh, that’s right he graduated from St. Vincent, right?” you turn your head at him and you see Jaehyun looking at you while waiting for your answer, you only nodded your head, not having the gusto to talk about Jeon Jungkook at the moment. You felt Jaehyun’s hands circling around your wrist, turning your body against him making you look up to him.

 You were completely drawn to him, from the way he pulls you closer by the waist, the way he lifts your head as he put his other hand to your face, he has you completely wrapped around his fingers. You felt his lips doing wonders to you and this time you let him kiss you. You find yourself wrapped around him for the second time. “Jaehyun—”

 “Hmm.” You felt him deepened the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, hips to hips pressed together and you hated how right it felt. “We need to go down.” you tried to push him away but he won't budge. Jaehyun, slips his thumb just above the exposed skin on your hips, rubbing small circles that got you moaning “If you haven’t noticed, I’m actually crazy for you right now.” He says under his breath and you felt warm all over. Jaehyun has his brows furrowed, his expression as if he was hurting all over the place, and you laugh at him. “Fine, I’ll spend the night here.” You hear yourself saying and Jaehyun only pulled you closer for a hug.

 When the night ended, Jaehyun tells the guys that he’ll be the one to give you a ride and no one suspects it— agreeing to him and biding the two of you goodbye while the two of you cleaned up the living room. Moments after, you find yourself having second thoughts about staying the night with him. You know this will only lead to you on Jung Jaehyun’s bed. “Do you want to go home?” he asks you as if reading your mind, and you shook your head. “But can we go grab some late snacks? I’m kind of hungry.”

 The both of you drove to McDonald's and ordered some take-outs, Jaehyun drove to a good spot and parked his car, handing you your orders after putting on some good music— fit for the atmosphere. “Ohhh, this is actually good, huh.” You say while smiling at him. Jaehyun put your drinks in the cupholder between the both of you and handed you some tissues after. The warm feelings are back and you hate to admit that he gives you butterflies in your stomach.

 “I mean, this could be our thing, y/m.”

 You didn’t comment on that. Digging into your burger as a distraction to the strange sensation that you kept on feeling. You were quietly eating your food while having mixed feelings about him. you know this familiar feeling— you’re not stupid enough not to know your catching feelings and that you’re starting to fall in love again.

 When you finished up, you turn your body towards Jaehyun, deciding to confess, it’s better to be turned down than to keep on catching feelings for someone who isn’t going to return it at all. It’s not like you to be so brave, in the past, you always wait and that was the problem. You wait until the opportunity slides away from your fingers— from you. Deciding to risk everything this time, you braced yourself for the rejection.

 “Jaehyun.” You started and he turns his head towards you. “You know, I like you, right?” you continued. “You’re not stupid and you know there is something going on with the both of us.” Silence feels inside his car to the point it got so thick you can even cut it with a knife. “I may sound like a bitch but you have to choose between me and her.”

 “Remember when I told you on your birthday that my relationship with her is complicated?” you nodded your head. “I wasn’t lying about it. We’ve known each other for a while and it’s been eight months that time when I wanted to take our relationship to another level.” Hearing him talk about some other girl and the fact he wanted to make their relationship official hurts you in so many ways possible. You find yourself nodding at him as you ignore the lump in your throat. “But she won’t even admit that she likes me, not even one “Thank you” for all the effort I’ve given her, I understand that saying she loves me is a different level, it’s an understatement, but you know, I’m just someone who also needed affections. I don’t understand her for being so high maintenance.”

 “I actually talked with her personally this morning.” He continued. “Was that the reason why you’re absent?” you asked mad over the fact that he was absent for some uncalled reason. “Okay, let me finish before you get mad at me, baby.” You hate how endearing that sounded but you let him talk anyways. “I told her, I was done waiting and that I was sorry that I didn’t keep my promise.”

 “You actually courted her?” you asked and he nods. “Yeah, she is high maintenance and stupid.”

 “And you know what she replied? She says that she’ll say yes to me if that will make me stay or shut my trap, even, you know how the thought of actually agreeing to that one person to be together was gone just for the benefit of the doubt? She should have said yes from the beginning, I don’t have issues with waiting, I waited for almost a year, I know I can do it again, but not like this.” He moves his hands in the air just to set his point. “Was it my fault that I fell out of love?” He asks you and you turn your head away from him, guilty with the fact you are the reason he fell out of love with her. “Y/n, just give me time, I don’t even need that much.” He says and you nod your head.

 When both of you got back to Jaehyun’s flat, it was already midnight, Jaehyun handed you his white clean shirt and boxer shorts to change in to. Giving you some privacy that you needed while he brushes his teeth downstairs. So many things have been running through your mind for the past hour, Jaehyun didn’t turn you down but he didn’t say that he likes you back, either. So where do you stand in his life? You should have gone home; you didn’t want the same mistakes you did in the past to be repeated, but you were tired of waiting and beating around the bush.

 Confessing to Jung Jaehyun that you liked him first made you feel naked around him, having your feelings out in the open. When Jaehyun walked in you were still dazed, thousand of thoughts running through your mind. This wasn’t the first time that you’ve to spend the night with him having sleepovers at Johnny’s or the others but this was definitely your first time spending the night with him.

 It wasn’t an issue for you to sleep beside him since you already confessed, anyway. And in no time, you slip off to dreamland instantly, shocked at how comfortable you are with having his arms around you as you drifted off to dreamland.

 You stir in your sleep when you felt Jaehyun’s hands all over your upper body as he peppers your neck with wet kisses. you fight the sleepiness and look at his nightstand to see that it’s only been two hours when you drifted off to sleep. “Jae, It’s only three in the morning. Can’t you do this later?” you asked as you fight the sleep in your eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s hands hover around your left mound, squeezing it slightly and you look at him fully. “You agree on doing this later?” he asks out of breath.

 “You expect me to fall asleep when you’re on my bed in my clothes?” he whispered in your ear and you moan when his fingers slip in your undies— rubbing circles in your clit. “Already this wet?” Jaehyun continued his ministration on you, adding another finger inside you while he kisses you on the lips. You felt him retract his fingers away and you were about to protest when you felt him lift your shirt just below your chin, your mounds completely in view and ready to be played with. His hands went back on your thighs as he separated your left leg from the other, urging you to open your legs more. His fingers are back on your clit, drawing small circles that made you clenching on nothing. Jaehyun frowned when he felt your walls incredibly tight when he inserted two fingers at a time. “Baby, so fucking tight.”

 Jaehyun throws his shirt over his head and helped you undress, completely impatient, and you tried palming him just to get a reaction. You heard him grunt lowly, shocked at how big he is when Jaehyun got rid of all the clothing. “That won’t fit on me.”

 “Where’s your casual bravado at?” he asks as he pulls you to his lap. You look anywhere but him as your cheeks started to flush. “Don’t tell me— are you a virgin?” you nod your head at him as you felt his cock stood out more to the revelation. “Fuck, well take it slow, baby.” Jaehyun guided you to his lap as you ride him, moving your hips as you coat his dick with your juices. You have your bottom lip trap between your teeth as you let his dick slide in your pussy’s lips. Feeling embarrassed but desperate you tried to push yourself back to meet his hips as you whine with the newfound sensations. You look so lewd above him riding his cock as your tits bounce from your movements, your eyes start to water from the thrill Jaehyun gives you. “I need to hear you.” Jaehyun pushes the messy strands of hair that frames your face.

 You moan at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in between your pussy’s lips. He hums, pleased with your sounds around him, and rewards you by inserting his fingers all the way inside you, the numbers doing wonders and stinging you a bit, but it still felt better than having to clench at nothing. Jaehyun marks you up all over your neck and just above your mounds, flesh to flesh as you moan for him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as you ride his cock continuously. He gathers you in his arms and lays you on your back, pulling your thighs against your chest, keeping your legs spread as he pushes inside you slowly, grunting. “I wasn’t planning on putting it inside, but you just feel so fucking good.”

 You cried at the stretch, slowly tearing you apart as he moves inch by inch just to be inside you fully. When he’s all the way inside of you, his breath leaves him in a shaky sigh, and he takes a couple of moments for the both of you before he started moving. You know Jaehyun was holding back, as he focusses on your breast as they bounce up and down in a humiliating manner as he pushes into you slowly for his liking, while his hands keep your legs spread wide for him, you felt embarrassed and humiliated with the way you’re positioned under him, but you can’t help every moan that escapes you as it started to feel amazing more than a while ago. The sting you felt was gone and all you can think is the pleasure that he gives you.

 “Fuck, you’re tightening up.” You turn your head to the side, trying to bury your face in the pillows around you as you hide your face from him, but Jaehyun doesn’t allow it, he bends down— his upper body draped over you, his face mere inched from yours, the new positions has his right hand pulling your right leg further upwards, thigh pressing harder against your chest. “Say it, baby. I need to hear you.” His gaze pierces through you, ordering more than asking you to obey him, and you find him looking sexier as he looks even as his skin glistens and how some strands of his hair started to stick over his forehead.

 Docilely and submissive, you answered him. “I- I want to cum, please.” You sounded so lewd; you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. His gaze doesn’t free yours as his hips started to pick up the pace. “Do you know how hot you look right now? Spread out on my bed with nothing but my cock in you? fuck, fuck.” You started clenching around him as he put his thumb on your clit, drawing circles as you cry out his name in ecstasy.

 He fucks you through your orgasm, grunting as your walls get even tighter, making it harder for him to keep on moving inside of you but that made him ravish you more with fervor. Your orgasm feels like it will never end as he drags it out in order to reach his own high, finally, his hips stutter as he pulls out of you and pumps his dick more as he comes in your stomach and breasts.

 When he was done, he moves away from you and walks to the bathroom, you heard the faucet running and Jaehyun came out with a wet, warm towel in his hands and uses it to clean up the mess the two of you made. When he’s done, he tosses it to the side and scoops you in his arms, covering both of your naked bodies with his blanket that smells like him. He had you trap in his arms and sure it felt good to be treated like this, the feeling new to you.

 “Sleep, let’s not think about what happened for now.” He murmured and you agree. “I’m sorry.” You heard him say. You look up at him and see different emotions flickers in his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve seen this coming, I’m not usually like this but I always find myself fucking my rules just to be with you.” Jaehyun pulls you closer to him. “That’s because you liked me.” He told you before you drifted off to sleep for the second time.

 The next morning, Jaehyun give you a ride home, you— being awfully quiet after realizing everything that happened when you saw the bloodstains in his bedsheets that morning. You didn’t utter a word throughout the ride, reality downing to you one by one. Did you just sleep with a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend in the first place? When you got in the comforts of your home you smack your head for the stupidity. You knew how boys can be, and you just give Jaehyun the chance to have his way with you easily without a fight.

 When a day passed by without seeing even a shadow of Jaehyun, you sent him a message asking what was he doing. You waited for hours but you didn’t get a reply from him that day. You’ve been overthinking things and didn’t have the energy to be productive at all, you tried calling him but he wasn’t answering at all. The next day came and you checked your phone for any notification from him but there was none, you were about to get up when you heard a car honking in front of your house— you walk towards your window and there, you saw Jung Jaehyun, standing beside his car in your front yard, smiling up at you with his hands tucked inside his jean’s pockets. You ignore the raging butterflies in your stomach and hide the blush creeping in your cheeks with your hair as you give him a bashful smile in return.

 When you came down after washing up and getting ready for school, you kissed your mom goodbye saying you’re skipping breakfast and will just eat out in the café next to the University. You run to Jaehyun, his arms open and ready to catch you in his arms— and you embrace him. “Haven’t heard from you yesterday.” You push your self a little away from him to see a smile playing at his lips. “I miss you too.” He answered and for some reason, cat got your tongue.

 “It’s still early, do you want to eat out?” Jaehyun asked you when you both settle down inside his car and you nod your head after checking your wristwatch, you still have two hours to kill before your classes start, it’s Tuesday, so the both of you are packed up with your chef’s uniforms in your bags.

 “I hate cooking.” You tell no one in particular as Jaehyun started to drive away, “But you’re the top in our department.” you only give him a glance as you relax your body.

 When you arrived at the café next to your University, it was still spacious as it was still early, most of the time students would fill the room up, studying or just talking with their peers. You both settle down on the booth next to the window— Jaehyun, ever the gentlemen ordering and buying you your food. “Jaehyun, I really appreciate you spending your money on me, but next time let me pay for my own food.” You say when he came back with a tray of pastries and coffees in his hands. “Why?” he asked.

 “Because it’s your money, and we’re still students you know, we shouldn’t spend recklessly.” Jaehyun was bewildered by what you said and it was clearly written on his face. “Why?” you asked scared that you might say something wrong. “It’s just that, I was used to spending money for her even if I get to eat nothing as long as she gets hers.” He says. You felt horrified after hearing that. “No way, if you ran out of money, you say it and I’m going to pay for us, all right?”

“You sure you haven’t been in relationships?” there was a bashful smile playing at Jaehyun’s face, “No, it’s called basic manners, Jung Jaehyun.” You laughed at him. “So, I haven’t heard from you at all yesterday.” You watched as Jaehyun sipped at his iced americano— nodding at you as if you’ve stated the obvious.

“I ended everything with her, what she said doesn’t really sit on me right. I didn’t take her to be that hypocrite in the first place.” Jaehyun started. So, he was with her last night, you think, but not in the way that you think, he meets with her to cut and finish everything between them. “I just hate that every time we fought, she would always turn the tables around, guilt tripping me so I can admit that I’m wrong when she also has her mistakes in the first place. Don’t think that this happened because of you, it started happening before you even came, I don’t want you to beat yourself thinking that you ruined my relationship with her, because in the first place there’s no relationship between us.” You nod your head and all you can do is listen.

“Do you regret everything that has been happening?” you asked as you hear your heart beating rapidly inside your chest, you look at him and he did the same. “No. You happened unexpectedly, but no, I don’t regret you.” you fought the tears away, feeling the warmth and comfort inside, this has never happened to you, someone choosing you over anything, and you can’t help but tear up.

“Why are you crying? It’s not me who’s choosing you but you’re the one who is choosing me. If you haven’t noticed a lot of guys wants to be with you, so I’m really grateful that you liked me instead.” Jaehyun wiped the tears that threatening to fall down your check and pulling you close in his arms after. You put your head in his arms, everything feels surreal and if ever you are dreaming you don’t want to wake up anymore. “I really like you,Y/n.” you look up to him laughing as you cry harder, all this baggage and walls gone because of one person.  

That was the start of your relationship with Jung Jaehyun, all those crazy days and nights with him, long drives and Friday nights, eating and pigging out with him, he knows you more than the back of his hands, he knows that you get moody every month, he knew about your introverted ass, he knows that you can be basic and simple at times— you don’t expect too much of him and he does the same with you, on your first year of being together, you introduced Jaehyun to your whole family on your reunion day and they instantly love him— specially your brother and cousins. They enjoyed talking to him, and you’re honestly surprised at how welcoming you parents are to him, asking him to sleep over, Jaehyun and your brother having the same interest, playing computer games until the sun rises, His mother sending a box full of apples to your mother because he mentions that it’s your mom’s favorite.

Sometimes you get scared of breaking up with him, fighting isn’t something that the both of you can avoid, there are times the you just want to strangle him to death, but that makes everything real, being jealous and having make up sex, all those time the both of you fight for something trivial, those moments make your relationship stronger. And now you’ve been with him for the past 4 years, going steady and strong.  

“Babe, you ready?” you both settle down on his car, you just finish your final exams for this week, you and Jaehyun are up for a 2 hour long drive to get to your vacation house, most of your family are already there since this morning and the both of you have to finish your exams and classes first before joining them, you nod your head at him as he pull his jacket over his head and handing it you. Jaehyun knows that you get easily cold but you don’t want to turn the heater up and make him suffer as he tends to sweat a lot, that leads you to having his hoodies stack up in your closet.

“You have to cut your smoking off you know it’s not good for your health.” You say as you saw him scratch the back of his neck, a freshly lit stick in his mouth, when the both of you started going out you have seen him smoke a couple of times to the point that it got you curious and tried it, you have been smoking in the past but you cut it off as it was unhealthy. Jaehyun on the other hand finds it hard. “old habits die hard.” He told you once.

“You got to compromise, baby.” Jaehyun blew the smoke outside— his window rolled down and one hand on the stirring wheel, you got to admit though, your boyfriend looked hot. “Fine, what do you suggest?”

“Marry me after we graduate.” Your head snap back to look at him, as you waited for him to laugh and say that he was joking. Jaehyun throw the cigar outside reaching for the rubbing alcohol to clean his hands, you tend to hate the smell that clings to his hands whenever he smokes. You were awfully quiet, shocked at what he said, and you found yourself caught in your thoughts.

“If you promise to be with me forever, until the day that our hair turns white, then I promise to cut my smoking off.” He smiled at you, reaching for your hands that was placed in your lap as he pulls it closer to his mouth to give it some kisses. You can’t really say anything as tears started to fall one by one, you we’re just so happy that he thinks of being together with you for that long. “I know I’ve done so many things that disappoints you, but you still choose to be with me, and for that, I’m really grateful. So, I’m asking you this right now, I know we still have to graduate and we still have a long way ahead of us. And I would still have to buy you the most beautiful ring in the world. What I can give you right know is my hopeful words— promising you that I would be faithful and love you until the end, so are you going to say yes?” he asks while holding your hand.

“Yes.” the both of you laughed at the situation as you reach out to kiss him in the cheeks. “Babe! Stay seated or will get into an accident” he shouts but laughs with you.

You definitely don’t regret falling in love with Jung Jaehyun.

  Fin

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