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captain-aralias · 4 years

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Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

oh hey - it’s trivia tuesday already (i guess it’s been a long two days back at work this week). i know everyone is still working their way through the remixes that are finished and posted - and i say, do this! some cracking stuff. i’m over half way through now, and i want to write up some thoughts about how these 26 stories approached remix - because it’s super inventive. i think people benefited from not being familiar with the format.

but i also wanted to share my thinking around why i picked the fic to remix that i did - and what else i was considering from @bazzybelle‘s ficlist, because i think the thought process around remix is interesting. AND i wanted to show you the 500 words i wrote almost immediately of a completely different remix that i definitely won’t finish. it would have been... a publishing AU, fake relationship with too-early-in-the-relationship sex. all good things in a fic, right?

so - read on for deleted scenes, and discussion of thought process. and don’t read on, if that’s not your jam.

(in general remember - i’m keen to leave stuff in the original that’s good, rather than just thieve everything. so that’s my thought process here.)

first idea:

I Just Want Your Extra Time And Your .....

(texting, sex chat). i already really liked this fic, and i have IRL experience of working in publishing (which you’ll see to some extent in the fic - i worked very near people who worked on celebrity cookbooks, which is what baz works on in the fic) (the launch party is not revealed to be at the groucho club in the bit i wrote, but would have been - and i’ve been there/i know soho, so ... that was all appealing)

my idea was: the original is a text fic, mine isn’t, although they still only know each other through the sex chat set-up. so instead of simon and baz having text-sex (as in the fic), baz asks simon [who he's never met] to come and be his fake date at a publishing launch party where he sees lamb, his former boyfriend.

the trigger for simon and baz progressing with their relationship/having sex (Because they were going to have sex but IRL) would be the same - baz seeing lamb and freaking out. and some of the texts would be literally copied and pasted in my fic as backstory.

here were my original notes:

in the original fic there's a bit where baz sees lamb, his ex boyfriend, and then is like - hey, simon distract me and they have phone sex

my fic will essentially start there - baz is at a launch party for one of his books, lamb is there - dating the author. it is awful. baz wants to leave, but can't. also, it's time for the text slot with simon - he goes and hides in a cloakroom

and is texting simon, it's terrible - i am so drunk and it's still terrible. and i think simon offers (rather than baz asks) to come and pretend to be his boyfriend

for some sort of plausible denial reason like baz will text him a lot over hte next few days so he'll get a lot of extra money or some shit, but also because simon thinks lamb is a dick even through teh messages

simon shows up - they both drink a lot. they like each other, simon punches lamb (probably). baz asks if he can take simon to a restaurant, they talk more - they kiss. they go back to a hotel together. they discuss whether or not this means that simon is a prostitute (no). they have sex IRL

baz wakes up - and leaves immediately, obviously.

they text again the next day - it's awkward. simon thinks about how he could track baz down if he wanted to - but he feels like baz doesn't want him to, so he doesn't

simon gets out of his horrible job - baz probably tries to get in touch with him, but can't because he's gone. simon gets a message from baz ....... this is still to be determined

anyway - i will probably steal the meet cute in the elevator, it's nice.

why i stopped writing it:

i knew it was going to take ages to write - i didn’t have the time or brainspace to write 20k of fic. i��d assumed going in that i could lean on the original fic to provide the meetcute, but realised that since it was an AU, i still needed to sell the relationship - particularly given that they were meeting in real life for the first time in my fic.

also, it would have been my first mundane AU for the fandom, and my first thing where they weren’t enemies first. (so i was trying to think about how i could get them not to like each other a bit WHILE STILL doing fake dating - and it was throwing me off). it was all just too much.

everything i’ve written is pasted for you at the bottom.

other ideas:

a month passed. i didn’t write any more on my original remix, but went back to greener grass instead. i sent out the month warning email to remixees and thought - i am not going to finish this fic.

so, i went back to the list of bazzybelle’s fic and thought what can i write that i can definitely write in a month?

1. You're F***in' Perfect to Me - daphne POV

i thought, i could write this from malcolm's POV. in the fic daphne talks a lot about how she and malcolm are just friends, rather than true love, and it's baz she has real (motherly) feelings for, not malcolm. so i thought i could write 'the courtship of mrs grimm' where malcolm gets a wake-up call from this argument, and thinks, i actually do love daphne but she likes my son more than me. he's been hiding behind not wanting to sully natasha's memory, etc, etc. fiona would probably be in it.

2. bat baz

i also had a bit of a naff idea where instead of baz turning into a bat, in bat baz, he would turn into bat man...

(interestingly one of the remixes was about baz turning into a cat)

3. If I Fell In Love With You - which i eventually chose

i took the dancing and the music, the set up, and the theme of communication - also some dialogue. pushed some of the focus onto baz’s relationship with niall, pushed the action back in time towards wayward son, added a truth spell (based on a spell in the original) to force communication.

i think this is one of the most interesting remixes i’ve ever done, btw. i’m really pleased with my take on it.

i chose this to remix because i thought - it’s only a few scenes, rather than a whole get-together arc, and it felt achievable in the timespan. i also had a strong idea about what i could do that was different - the relationship with niall and the spell, and what i would leave for people to discover in the original (simon’s POV - including the warmth he feels when baz cooks for him, the two of the resolving the initial fight when simon comes home in a bad mood).

the title is a combination of - another line from ‘if i fell’ but one that is about not talking to each other/not putting yourself out there... and ‘where words fail’ - which is the spell i used, and also picks up on what baz says to niall - that telling simon wasn’t enough. even if he’d had the right words, they wouldn’t have been believable. but - through the music/magic, they were able to communicate.

i also considered using a line from ‘into my arms’ instead (I believe in some kind of path), since that was the song that the magic is cast on - but it didn’t work as well thematically.

here’s the fic i wrote: Don’t Run and Hide (The ‘Where Words Fail’ Remix’)

and here’s the remix i didn’t write. i think i almost wanted to finish it just for the elvis gag. alas, alas.

I Just Want your Extra Time: remix, not written

BAZ

I don’t smoke as much as my father thinks I do. And I don’t drink – not usually. This evening, though, I’ve already had several glasses of champagne and I’m on my fourth cigarette, the second this smoke break. Because it’s that or go back inside. And I definitely don’t want to go back inside.

I should have known he’d be here.

Not that he was invited. Not that he’s on the guest list. Not that there’s any reason at all, in fact, for him to be here, except that my life is an absolute disaster. Today definitely not an exception.

If anything, it’s worse than usual. I thought I’d already hit bottom when Dev told me I had to ring our printers – in China – and get them to promise to ship one of our new titles three weeks early, as some idiot had sent the press release out with the wrong date. That was excruciating, but things seemed to be improving.

It’s a launch party night. I’m not sure why, but I always look forward to them, even though I hate crowds. (Niall would probably say, other people in general. And he wouldn’t be far wrong.)

But I get to wear a suit. (Tonight’s is Spencer Hart. Dark grey. Green tie.) And I know Snow is going to text after the first hour. And even though no one ever remembers to thank the editor – not unprompted, anyway – I do enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I’m responsible for turning whatever dross we’ve been told to sell into something that could loosely be called a book.

This one is a cookbook by an actor (not a chef, in other words. I had to hire someone else to write the recipes and then we just photographed him next to the result.) It should be a triumph. It is – we’ve already sold several thousand copies. I should be enjoying myself. But then I heard a voice next to my ear.

“Baz.” And someone put a hand on my waist. “Don’t you look rosy?”

Not someone. Lambert. (I never called him Francois, even when we were intimate.) As irritatingly handsome as ever. And just as confident I’ll do whatever he wants.

I haven’t seen him for months. Not since he left me Las Vegas to go off with one of the better-looking Elvis impersonators. (And if that isn’t the most humiliating break-up story you’ve ever heard, then I really don’t want to know what is. Dumped. And for Elvis.) (Not even the real Elvis - not that it makes a difference.)

“I hoped I’d see you here,” he – Lambert – told me. “It’s been far too long.”

“Since you left me.”

He gave me a hurt look. “Baz. We said Auf Wiedersehen, not goodbye.”

“Who are you really here with?”

The author, of course. I watched their eyes meet across the room and Lambert smiling, before he told me it wasn’t serious. And that he’d be interested in taking me to dinner.

“Unless you’re seeing someone?”

I raised an eyebrow – even though I know Lambert knows I only do that when I can’t think of anything to say. Which means he probably knows the truth, which is that there isn’t anyone else. Not anyone else real, anyway.

Which reminds me …

I check my watch – it’s later than I thought.

#carry on #remix

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ingloriousfanfics-blog · 7 years

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One Month : Chapter Three

(special thanks to @magicalzombie for being amazing and proofreading this for me!!)

SHIP: hardenshipping WORD COUNT: 3,497 RATING: T for hips and cool teens for some language FANDOM: pokemon / omega ruby & alpha sapphire ONE-SHOT/MULTICHAPTERED: this is CHAPTER THREE, you can find chapter two here!

SUMMARY: maxie made the poor mistake of accepting archie’s challenge of getting them into a committed relationship in one month’s time. stepping into day four of being caught in archie’s web, maxie finds himself slowly relaxing, even if still cautious. the personas they both put on for their teams slowly melt away, and maxie gets more opportunities to see more to archie than just team aqua and their petty rivalry.

When Maxie awoke, he couldn’t find Archie. The master bedroom’s door was swung open wide, and a quick, discreet side glance revealed the bed made, pillows tidy, and the curtains over the windows drawn back. Slowly walking down the carpeted hall, mindful of keeping his steps light and quiet, he found that the living room (and all two rooms with open doors in the hall) vacated as well. There were next to no signs of living, everything cleaned up, much to his surprise, given he anticipated Archie to be of the messier sort. He certainly never displayed this level of organization in their encounters.

Nearly did he begin to hold faith that Archie had foolishly found trust in him, surely built up from the past four days of his imprisonment. Gaze flitting to the door, he could nearly taste his freedom, fantasizing of how he would make his escape back home.

Taking a step towards what would mark the end of this four-day torture session, Maxie’s hand reached, fingers curving in anticipation of turning the doorknob---

And his knee effectively bumped into Oceanus, nearly falling over as the excitable Mightyena pushed against him with his tongue lolling out of his slobbery mouth. Reflexively, the hand previously reaching for sweet, sweet freedom turned instead to Oceanus to give him a scritch behind the ear (he simply looked so sweet with those big, doe eyes), envisioning how his own Mightyena loved her ears to be scratched and played with, wondering if Oceanus would take to it, too. Fingers tantalizingly close to soft fur, Maxie froze mid-reach, tilted his head up, and sniffed the air. Head swiveling, he looked in the direction of the one place he had forgotten to check: The kitchen.

“Ey, Max-O! How do ya feel ‘bout pancakes?” Sticking his face out of the kitchen, as if sensing Maxie’s thoughts, Archie’s cheeks were dusted with flour and dimpled with a grin. Barely out of view, Maxie saw the handle of a pan clasped in his hand. ”You were sleepin’ so good, I couldn’t bring m’self t’ wake ya t’ ask,” Archie continued to holler, ducking back into the kitchen, presumably to finish cooking the pancake still in the pan. The sound of a pancake smacking onto a plate shortly after confirmed his suspicions.

“How… Thoughtful of you,” Maxie said, voice as dry as always. Pulling his hand away from Oceanus, he ignored his lingering, disappointed stare as he stepped to the side to peer further into the kitchen. It was rather quaint, painted in soft blues and browns, with decor that screamed I love the ocean. A ship in a bottle sat up on one of the cabinets, and there were varying knick-knacks abound, Maxie struggling to absorb the details of each and every one of them. From the homey looking sign saying in swirling blue ink ‘My home is by the sea’, to the glass vase full of polished stones from the shoreline, it effectively reminded him both of the disgustingly ocean-loving persona Archie put on, and that of one of those modern magazines giving ideas for how to effectively decorate your beach house.

He wouldn’t have been surprised, with the craftiness of some of the things he spotted, if Archie had pulled inspiration from them.

Eyes slowly trailing to where the man himself stood at the stove, he felt his mouth begin to water as the rich, buttery aroma of the buttermilk pancakes. A stack steamed on a plate, and looking between the assortment of syrups Archie had out and the next pancake still cooking, Maxie cringed as his stomach rumbled. ”Well, yer majesty?”

Seemingly having heard, much to Maxie’s chagrin, Archie looking back with a conniving grin. Maxie hadn’t noticed until now that he was wearing a ‘kiss the chef’ apron, albeit ‘chef’ had been replaced with ‘sailor’.

“Will pancakes suit yer royal tastes?” With pride on the line, but hunger as well, Maxie dragged his eyes back down from glaring at Archie, to the warm, fluffy pancakes calling his name. ”… Yes, pancakes will be sufficient.”

They ate mostly in silence, broken only by Oceanus’ hungry panting as he laid beneath the table and watched them enjoy their pancakes. Maxie, making sure Archie sat down first, sat at the opposing side as far away as possible, mumbling a begrudging thank you when given a plate. Archie didn’t seem to mind the quiet, giving Maxie ample opportunity to strike up a conversation, and when he didn’t react, he didn’t push. Choosing one of the syrups made from oran berries, a healthy alternative to the sugary maple, Maxie used minimal butter and monitored how much syrup he used. When glancing up, he saw Archie’s pancakes covered in sugar, drenched in syrup, all on top of melting butter. He did his best not to roll his eyes at how childish he was in his over indulgence in sugar that would surely end up giving him a stomach ache later.

He also tried not to pay any mind to how Archie looked at him while he ate.

“We’re goin’ t’ a contest. I think you’ll like it.”

”A contest?”

Swallowing his irritation at Archie’s lack of ability to knock, making a mental note to teach this savage some common courtesy, Maxie finished pulling on his sweater. Archie’s eyes darted down to admire the sliver of skin that flashed, but quickly dragged back up at Maxie’s pointed growl.

“Yeah!” he said with a grin, hands settled on his hips. He looked rather triumphant. ”Got us two tickets t’ see th’ great Juan show off his stuff! Y’know, if I didn’t have a guy on th’ inside, I dunno if we would be able to enjoy this grand ole opportunity.” Winking at him, Maxie’s answer was to roll his eyes, and shut the top drawer of his dresser---Archie’s, dresser. ”Of course you would be so fond of a water-loving coordinator,” Maxie grumbled. ”What was that?” ”I said, how wonderful.” Speaking through gritted teeth and a fake smile, Maxie’s fingers dug into the drawer’s edge. Archie met him with a pleasant smile, warm and genuine, and Maxie wondered if anything got underneath his skin. ”Great! We’ll be leavin’ in ten. I gotta go spruce up, but ya already look amazin’, so don’t worry ‘bout changin’ a thing, ‘kay?” Another wink, and Maxie was nearly gagging, fighting through it and giving a confirming nod, looking none-too-pleased. ”If this pleasant day out on the town is with you, I am certain it will be… A blast.”

When Archie had informed him that he had gotten tickets, he had imagined them to be trapped at the very back of the contest stadium, overseeing the show from shoddy seats. He couldn’t afford anything closer up with a sailor’s budget, Maxie figured, and as Archie showed an attendant their tickets, Maxie mentally prepared himself for a boring show of watching pokemon and coordinators the size of ants perform for the crowd.

“Where ya goin’, Max?” Biting his tongue to keep from correcting him (he wasn’t going to get snippy in public, being trapped with Archie was humiliating enough), Maxie withdrew from the stairs up to the top seats to scowl. ”Front row tickets, man,” Archie quickly added upon Maxie opening his mouth, flashing a white-toothed smile as he flipped the tickets around.

“I told ya I had a guy on the inside.”

Nearly informing him of how he had thought that to be a joke, now seriously wondering who this ‘guy on the inside’ was, Maxie blinked, stepped off the first stair, and glanced towards the path to the front row seats. ”C’mon, they got ‘em numbered, and ours ain’t far from here,” Archie chirruped, reaching out for Maxie’s hand. His fingers had already begun to curl around it when Maxie snapped back as if burned, clutching the offended hand in the other, and Archie was just as quick to pull his own back.

“I can walk myself just fine, thank you.” ”Jeez, Max, I’m sorry, didn’t think ya----” ”It’s MAXIE. And no, you didn’t think. Keep walking. You’re holding up the line.” As Archie pursed his lips and turned to lead the way, stepping aside to allow those behind them to continue to their seats, Maxie thought idly about how Archie’s hurt look, as brief as it was, looked so similar to Oceanus’.

Juan was the very epitome of perfection, and even Maxie could not deny the splendor and whimsical charm of a coordinator who knew what he was doing. His Kingdra surged up from the pool and soared into the air, water droplets glimmering and turning to ice around them, and burst into a flurry of snow. The crowd roared, and so did Archie, practically leaping out of his seat as Kingdra gracefully dived back into the water, surging back up to return to Juan to begin the next part of the final act.

The true contest had ended long before, and much to Maxie’s surprise, Juan had only been a judge, not a contestant. With a closer look at the tickets, he noted that this marked the fortieth anniversary of Juan’s involvement in Hoenn’s contests. ”Did ya see how Kingdra stuck that landin’?! Damn, when I dive back into th’ water from that kinda height, my landin’ ain’t nearly as graceful!” Archie laughed as he plopped back into his seat, Juan’s pokemon gathering together to prep for the grand finale, the music accompanying their act quieting. The crowd hummed in excitement, and when Maxie looked up from his hard scrutiny of their tickets, he noted how giddy and flushed Archie looked. It was almost… Cute, how pure his excitement for the whole event was.

Maxie quickly looked away, and flipped the tickets over to observe their backside.

“Mhm,” he answered, careful to remain level and cool. For he, the great Maxie, leader of Team Magma, to show such unruly excitement in the face of a mere water pokemon’s showy bit of splashing about would be disastrous. Even if silently, quietly within the safety of his own private mind, he conceded that it was a beautiful spectacular, to give Archie that satisfaction would be kindred to death.

“Y’know, I always wanted t’ be a coordinator like Juan.” That was enough to get Maxie to stop eye-balling the tickets as if they were made of gold. ”Really?” ”Really.” Looking back to him, away from Juan and his Walrein on the main stage, Archie was smiling, and realizing he still looked utterly dumbfounded, Maxie scrunched up his face glanced away. ”Used t’ love how he seemed t’… Click with his pokemon, y’know? Back in those days, he actually swam wit’ ‘em an’ everythin’, and they were so, completely in sync. It was like he and ‘em shared a mind. And I really wanted that wit’ my pokemon.” Risking looking back, cautious of Archie teasing him for his expression from before, Maxie was a touch taken aback by the dreamy look, borderline wistful, the other leader bore. There was none of that childish teasing, no jabbing at how he had looked so stupidly amazed, none of that. It was strange seeing something from the other that didn’t involve him mocking his sweater, or trying to steal his glasses.

“... Did you ever try?” ”Huh?” The moment shattered, and Archie went from dreamily admiring Juan as he sent Walrein down deep into the clear blue water, to staring in shock at Maxie’s question. He had half the mind to tease him about how ridiculous he looked.

“You heard me. Did you ever try----to be like Juan?” Able to tell Archie was struggling not to point out how surprising it was that Maxie was willingly letting the conversation carry on, he instead smiled, looking down into his lap and fiddling his thumbs. ”Lil’ bit. I ain’t got th’ coordination nor th’ chops t’ be dancin’ ‘round these big ole crowds. It was fun fer a bit, my Ma liked seein’ me get excited ‘bout somethin’, but it petered out eventually.” ”I think you would have made a fine coordinator.” Archie flushed, tanned skin turning as red as Maxie’s sweater, and Maxie had to look away, hiding his smirk beneath a carefully placed hand scratching at his cheek. ”You should have carried on with it. Then, I would not have to be dealing with you now.”

Archie laughed, the moment of being flustered coming to pass quickly with Maxie’s added comment, and he turned back around to properly watch the show. ”Well, ain’t changin’ it now. Yer stuck with me, Max.” For the first time that day, Maxie didn’t feel the need to correct him.

“Ahhhhh, that was amazin’!” Stretching outside the contest hall, Archie gave a happy sigh as his arms flopped back down and dug his hands into his pockets. ”So, whattya wanna do next?” ”What do I want to do next?” He had been spacing out, waiting for Archie to drag him off to the next destination, taken entirely aback that he was even being offered a choice. Mouth agape, floundering like a beached Magikarp, he looked around, struggling to come up with something, anything. Half of him wanted to sardonically suggest that Archie let him go home, while the other was surprisingly… Genuine, in wanting to find something for them to do. ”… Frankly, I don’t know much about Lilycove,” Maxie eventually conceded with a shameful sigh, scratching at the back of his neck. “I do not know what there is to be done in these parts.” ”That’s fine!” ”It is?” ”Yeah!” Archie smiled, looking like the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Maxie found it somewhat obnoxious (but another part of him found it endearing, as much as he was unable to admit it). “Y’know, I think th’ contest was ‘nough for me, we can do some more stuff another day. How ‘bout we grab some grub?” Food. That wasn’t actually a shabby idea, and relieved the pressure of having to engage in something that Maxie would want no part of. Who knew what else Archie had up his sleeve? The contest had been tolerable, but he was certain it was nothing more than a warm up to the main event… Whatever that may be.

“Fine,” Maxie agreed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sweater, frowning as he picked off a piece of popcorn that had stuck to the shoulder. ”But I get to pick where we go.” Archie shrugged. ”Sure. Didn’t you just say ya don’t know squat ‘bout Lilycove, though?” ”Shut up.”

Maxie still definitely didn’t know enough about Lilycove to pick them out a suitable restaurant, and had managed to select one of the worst.

Staring in silent regret at the somehow burnt pasta on his plate----how did they manage to BURN PASTA?----he poked at one of the raviolis with his fork, and flinched when it hissed from air rapidly being released. ”Ya should’ve let me pick the restaurant.” ”Well, I wanted a turn. Next time, take me to Slateport, and I’ll show you all around.” ”Is that an offer?”

Freezing, fork mid-stab, Maxie looked up to Archie, who was in the midst of gnawing on a stiff breadstick. He couldn’t tell if he was smiling around the edges of it, or was struggling with getting his teeth into it that much.

“Is that where ya grew up?” Archie asked, and Maxie wondered if he had seen how much he had balked at the idea of showing him around. Probably. ”Yes.” He stabbed at a piece of ravioli for no other reason than to procrastinate. “It is a lovely city, and all I knew for a long time.” ”Yer parents chose a good place t’ bring ya up in.” ”Grandparents.” ”… Grandparents.” Seeming to be turning over the word over and over in his head, Archie stopped gnawing on his bread altogether when it clicked. ”Oh! Grandparents! Er, uh, I’m sorry fer assumin’, I didn’t---” ”You’re fine, don’t make it a bigger deal than it needs be. My parents weren’t capable of caring for me, so I went into the care of my father’s parents. There is nothign more to it.” Waving a dismissive hand, abandoning his plate altogether, as appetizing as burnt cheese and meat looked. ”May their souls rest in peace, they had done their best, and they were wonderful guardians.” ”Well, I can imagine! They raised ya, didn’t they? And look at ya---they raised a genius!” Taken aback, Maxie’s fork, once being used to idly play with the food he found no reason to eat, accidentally stabbed one of the ravioli, and sent it flying.

It all seemed to happen in slow-motion; the ravioli flipping up from the plate, his half-second-too-late reaction to seeing it fly up, how Archie’s expression went from soft and kind (When had he begun to look like that, without that typical, taunting look Maxie thought had been glued to his face?), to blank shock at the saucy missile heading straight for him. Maxie didn’t have enough time to save him, and watched in mute horror as the ravioli splat all over his chest, and oozed down to his jeans.

“Oh, hell, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mean----” He was already half out of his chair, grabbing one of the fancy napkins----one of the ONLY good things about the restaurant----and going to Archie before the Aqua leader could pop open his mouth to reply. It was all thoughtless, trying to mop up the mess made on Archie’s nice gray shirt, cringing when it managed to stain even more, wondering if maybe if he could wash it out----

“... Y’know, I’ve never heard ya cuss before.” Maxie slowly looked up, offending ravioli clasped in the soiled napkin. Despite everything, Archie was back to smiling, even chuckling. ”Th’ Great an’ Powerful Maxie, cussin’. Thought ya were too refined or some shit, and yet, all it took was a lil’ ravioli.” The more he spoke, the more his mirth bubbled up, light chuckles turning into hardy laughter, to the point where Archie was shaking from the hysterics of it all. Back to being bright red, Maxie sputtered, folding up the napkin and setting it on the table.

“It was a gut reaction! I am not typically so uncultured, so don’t go---” ”I like it. Makes ya feel more… Real.” Maxie was suddenly glad he no longer had the fork in his hand, fearful of a second incident from Archie’s words and the way he looked at him. He hated how his eyes looked… How they looked so gentle.

“Welp, I think that was ‘nough fun for me today!” Sliding out of the booth, he fished out his wallet and placed some bills on the table, tucking it back into his back pocket after. ”How ‘bout we head home and I cook us somethin’ actually edible, eh?” Maxie opened his mouth, and proceeded to shut it again, turning to instead wipe what remained of the ravioli onto the soiled napkin, and slowly, cautiously nod. ”That sounds fine,” he said, quietly double-checking that Archie had put enough down for the bill, and straightened up.

”We can go to yer place tomorrow… To get yer clothes, I mean.” Halfway headed to the door, Archie, picking off some of the pasta from his shirt, glanced back to Maxie, as if trying to gauge his reaction. ”I mean, ‘less ya wanna go shoppin’ again---” ”Going home to get my clothing will be superb, thank you.” Clearing his throat, and quickly joining Archie in leaving, he made a point of looking at the ground, admiring the tiling---one of the only good features of the restaurant---until it turned to pavement. ”… I’m… Sorry, for the terrible lunch.” ”What? Why’re ya sorry?”

“The ravioli? The inedible food? Everything?” Looking at him, flabbergasted that Archie wasn’t seeming to click with all the things that had gone wrong because of his poor decision making, he wasn’t given the reaction he wanted. The reaction he wanted was for Archie to agree, and admit it WAS awful, but instead he… Laughed. Booming and shoulder-shaking, the kind that bubbled up and spilled out without being forced. All with Maxie looking on, still looking just as flabbergasted with his reaction.

“Ah, Max, yer funny. An’ that whole restaurant thing WAS funny. If I didn’t wanna deal wit’ it, I would’ve jus’ walked on out,” Archie laughed, shaking his head. Peaking over, he grinned, and bumped shoulders with Maxie. ”When I take ya t’ Slateport t’ get yer stuff, ya can have another try, and take us to one of yer favorite spots t’ eat. I’d love t’ see Slateport from yer eyes.” Grunting, Maxie folded his arms over his chest as they walked, watching Lilycove pass them by as they went back to Archie’s home. ”It certainly will be a nice change of scenery.”

#hardenshipping #aqua leader archie #magma leader maxie #pokemon #erika's writing 2017

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