Aaron

.

.

.

AaronShipping
[Sir Aaron]

"This is so lame," an exasperated, ten-year-old Aaron says through gritted teeth as he crosses his arms over his chest. The rest of his peers nod their little heads in agreement and trudge behind the teacher with short, pained strides, Aaron mimicking the movements perfectly. Naturally, a school trip is something to celebrated over as it meant time away from the classroom. However, when it comes to a boring museum, it just feels like a stuffy old classroom, only it's a hundred times bigger and there are no desks to sit in. The latter is what Aaron is bothered about the most.

Irritated, the petulant green-haired boy drags his feet, enough so that he ends up being a few feet behind the group. He finds that no one is paying any mind to him, so with a sly and mischievous smirk, he tiptoes away from his peers and wander around the museum himself. His prepubescent mental capacity absorbs his surroundings with little thought, his little feet just scurrying along without a clue as to what they are supposed to do. The feeling of being lost doesn't register into the boy's brain, and he quickly finds himself surrounded by a group of tall bodies, all threatening to flatten him any minute.

Quickly, the green-haired boy attempts to squeeze through, running between everyone's legs for escape, and finds himself faced with a behemoth painting. It's bordered in a grand, intricate, gold design that swirls and wraps around each other in an elegant waltz. The painting itself is magnificent: on the right is a confident-looking Lucario, staring off into the distance. On the right is its trainer, a handsome young man with spiky blue hair, covered by a strange tilted hat that is decorated in a golden symbol. The man is holding what appears to be a wooden staff, glowing brightly in the same deep blue hue present in the entire painting. What makes Aaron's eyes wide with wonder, however, is the face of the man: smiling fiercely with pride, eyes staring hopefully out into the oblivion of the gentle skies. It looks so… so… familiar…

Aaron curiously ogles at the silver placate hanging underneath the painting, running his pudgy fingers along the embossed lettering.

"Sir Aaron."

.

.

.

AceShipping
[Cynthia]

Perfection.

For so long, Aaron has been striving for beauty, for flawlessness for both his Pokémon and himself. Yet still, after years and years of dedication towards that one seemingly unreachable goal, he has yet to perfect his techniques, his battling style—he has yet to perfect anything. Thus, he feels as if he has failed and that everything he has been working hard for is for naught. He feels as if though this strife for perfection—this never-ending journey—is impossible to attain, and he ends up laughing at himself for even trying.

However, when he looks at her, the feeling of failure dissipates and moxie reignites. When he looks at her—the way her Rapunzel hair gently flows behind her whenever she takes a graceful step, the way she calls out the attacks of her destructively beautiful Pokémon with such strong simplicity, the way the corners of her lips curl up whenever victory is hers once again—he realizes that perfection is possible. He realizes that perfection is real.

He realizes that Cynthia is perfection.

.

.

.

AhogeShipping
[Steven Stone]

Steven watches as the green-haired boy's head fluctuates gently to the sound of music, the peculiar lock of hair standing erect atop his head swaying like a leaf. The grey-haired man feels a sudden force pulling him in towards the direction of where the bug-type trainer is relaxing nonchalantly on the couch, his hands fidgeting with a spontaneous need to poke the vertical piece of hair.

So, he does, softly poking the weird piece of green hair. He hears a tentative whimper, which practically begged him to continue. Steven agrees to the imaginative words and begins stroking Aaron's erect hair. In turn, Steven begins to hear strong, labored breaths and moans and groans and—

Blushing, Steven stops and quietly walks away from the tempting young boy, an uncomfortable feeling forming just below his belt…

.

.

.

AlfalfaShipping
[Marley]

The pink flower is forced into his hands. Aaron quickly recognizes it as the famous "Gracidea flower," a beautiful flower with a luscious hue akin to a rose and the strange ability to tickle the heart. He finds that the latter is definitely true, as when he holds the flower up to his nose, his heart begins to skip with serene glee, like it's rolling around a meadow full of beautiful flowers.

"Thanks. I'm really grateful, Marley."

The innocent girl just smiles—a sweet, genuine, rare smile, just like a Gracidea flower—and thinks that she's just as grateful to be in paradise.

.

.

.

AphidShipping
[Ethan]

Ethan stares straight into Aaron's eyes with the most somber of expressions, his lips set in a deep, engraved frown and his eyebrows furrowed midpoint, making angry little wrinkles on his forehead. "I'm sick of you taking advantage of me all the time, Aaron."

Aaron looks at him curiously, incredulously, not know what on earth the black-haired Johto native is talking about, and thus remains silent. Just stares back with eyes that wonder and penetrate and explore.

"I'm just so sick of you, Aaron," Ethan scoffs bitterly, aching emotion gathering in his chest. "I'm just so sick and tired of you always being able to make me fall in love with you without even trying"—Aaron's eyes widened—"and I'm so sick and tired of you being so… so… so unbearably perfect! You may not think you are just because you lose a battle or two every once in a while, but man, I've never seen anyone else as perfect as you, and it pisses me off that you don't recognize that—but I do. And… and… Oh gosh, Aaron, why do you have to be you?"

Still, Aaron is silent, but he finds himself grinning after hearing the hidden confession in Ethan's words. Slowly, the green-haired teenager rises from his sitting position and walks towards the hat-wearing boy, giving him a small peck on the cheek. Ethan blushes, scoffs, mutters, and stutters before looking down in embarrassment.

"Why?"

.

.

.

ApiaryShipping
[Cheryl]

Sweet is the girl of green prancing around the forest, footsteps akin to a pretty little doe and lips made of honey and sugar. She entrances Aaron into her salacious little hold, that nymph, and draws him into a small kiss that slowly blossoms into a voluptuous flower full of nectar. The taste is almost saccharine, almost bitter, almost… almost…

Aaron's eyes begin to droop, sleeve on his eyelids like a chandelier, and the last thing he sees is Cheryl's lips moving in the most sensual pattern.

"You are a sweetie. Just the way I like it."

.

.

.

BeelzebubShipping
[Grimsley]

Pale skin.

Check.

Ominous candlelit room.

Check.

Sexy.

Check check check!

For a good five minutes now, the scrutinizing bug-type trainer has stared and stared at Grimsley, who just remains fixated in his comfortable sitting position, very much enjoying the attention from Aaron. For a good five minutes now, the paranoid bug-type trainer has been gathering clues to back up his assumptions on Grimsley's true identity. For a good five minutes now, the fretful bug-type trainer has come to realize that the dark-type Elite Four known as Grimsley is, in fact, a bloodthirsty, coldblooded vampire.

"You're a vampire," Aaron says out loud, and Grimsley claps his hands together, smiling wickedly.

"Well, yes I am. And you know what? I am thirsty for some blood. More specifically, your blood."

Aaron gasps, shocked at the statement, but feels as though he cannot be moved, as if he was paralyzed by the hypnotizing blue eyes that stares at him. Grimsley trudges himself towards Aaron with a stealth that matches his Liepard and attacks his shivering, vulnerable prey without even so much as a warning. Aaron does not yell nor fight back nor move; the bug-type trainer just stands there and moans softly at the new pain tingling in his neck, the fresh blood already trickling from his flesh.

For a good five minutes, Aaron is in bliss.

.

.

.

BombardierShipping
[Jasmine]

Run away. That was really the only thing she was able to do. All she wanted to do was get away from it all, to get away from all the pains and heartaches and deceptive jabs that came her way; but unfortunately, she was never a very agile person and had a tough time dodging these sort of intricacies. That left her to suffer, albeit quietly, all alone… all by herself—to suffer the unorganized mess of broken branches of various matters streaming sporadically from her mind, and to suffer the harsh pangs that kept banging on her chest day in and day out.

It just… is not… fai—

Her clumsy feet finally gave up on her as she fell on the ground, her face crushing the plethora of fragrant flowers. Though, instead of getting up in fury like she would've done any other day, she just stayed frozen in her position and let the tears she had been restraining to let go off cascading to the ground, watering the earth with a touch of grief.

She just couldn't take it anymore. She hated everyone around her; she hated everything around her; she hated the entire world! Her only wish was to just get away from all this nonsense—the nonsense that was driving her far beyond the fine line of total insanity.

With her shaky, delicate little hands, she snatched a bunch of flowers blooming from beside her and started stabbing herself with them as hard as she could, the tears on her face overflowing. The angry clouds witnessing her psychotic actions were glaring at her with tufts of grey, their own weaknesses of the horrible truths of life beginning to show as a light drizzle began to pour down onto her already-damp face. Her stabbing actions persisted subconsciously as her crying was beginning to be more verbal, her hollow cries slightly drowned out by the rain. It wasn't until she felt something warm on her own hands when everything just completely… stopped.

Wiping away the veil of tears construing her vision, she ogled closely at the stranger in front of her, who was giving her a hand. She was too stubborn to accept, but when her sad, longing eyes finally met the warm, green-colored pools of perfection, she found herself beginning to melt away in a pool of lust. And, if it wasn't enough, when she heard the sound of his caring voice—which sounded so heavenly, so unreal—stream out from his lips in a melodious pattern, huge spasms started parading inside of her body like feelings she's never felt before.

"Are you okay, Jasmine?" he said, and for once in her life, all the fervid and timid emotions inside her settled down and was replaced with a sort of happiness, or at least a small amount of it. Still, it was surprising that someone could do that. It was surprising that just hearing those words escape his mouth made her so… so happy, if only for this one moment with him.

.

.

.

BurrowShipping
[Roark]

Quarter past nine—oh he was late; oh, he was so, so late.

With his pace quickening to a sprint, his legs beginning to ache from travelling such a far distance, the man pushed open the doors breathing heavily. All the curious people in the restaurant looked at the sweaty man standing in the entrance, some chuckling to themselves whereas others decided to ignore him and return to their business. Roark, though he was quite embarrassed with the situation, decided to shrug them off and looked around the entirety of the restaurant in search for—aha!

In a small, candlelit table (for two, of course) was Aaron in a handsome suit. He was really dashing, if Roark could say so himself. And fancy that, there was already food on the table! How convenient!

Casually, the redhead made his way towards Aaron's table and sat himself immediately, coughing into the palm of his hands to gather Aaron's attention. The latter continued to look down on the table and stab his food with his fork.

"So… you like hot today, Aaron," Roark said cautiously, his hands wavering towards Aaron empty one. The green-haired boy slapped the redhead's hand away and scowled, finally looking at said redhead.

"You're late. By two hours," Aaron deadpanned in a livid tone.

Roark smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I kind of got sidetracked in the Underground, you see, and I—"

"You're late." And with that, Aaron stood out of his chair, slapped Roark clean in the face, and stomped off. Roark just stood there with a dumb and dazed expression, the laughter and cheers from around the restaurant buzzing in his ears.

.

.

.

BurrShipping
[Cyrus]

Aaron sits on a bench, shivering violently, his gloved hands rubbing his cheeks furiously. Searching for what seemed to be an hour now, the poor boy feels disheartened that he will never find his favorite, limited edition purple Skorupi scarf ever again. That is, however, until he feels something nostalgic and warm wrap around his neck.

It's the scarf he's been looking for.

Weird… Aaron thinks to himself, looking all around him but seeing no one even close to his radius. But then, he hears the noise of crunching noise to his left, and he sees a man steadily walking away into the mist of the afternoon in a big, comfy black coat.

"Thank you, whoever you are!" Aaron yells happily, trying to get the man's attention. Said man turns around and faces Aaron, his hard and harsh face showing no expression. After nodding, the man starts to walk away again, and Aaron starts to quickly trail behind the curious old man.

"Wait!" Aaron calls out, making the blue-haired man stop in his tracks. "Before you leave… tell me… what's your name?"

The man's expression didn't change as he says, "Cyrus. That's all you need to know."

.

.

.

CitronellaShipping
[Giovanni]

Giovanni smiled sickly, sweetly. "Make yourself comfortable and take whatever pleases your eyes. All these delightful pastries were baked by none other than the greatest chef in Sinnoh. Please, help yourself, Aaron."

Aaron gave him a perplexed, paranoid look as his green eyes scanned the entirety of the confectionary-filled silver platter. There were a wide variety and assortment of cakes and pastries and doughnuts and everything Aaron could possibly ask for, yet he was hesitant in choosing any of them for fear that they would do something horribly, horribly bad. The older man caught on to the young boy's paranoia and picked one of the pastries himself, munching on it nonchalantly.

"They're not poisoned, if you're wondering." Giovanni snickered, smirking slyly. "Why on earth would I want to kill such an adorable child like you, anyway?"

.

.

.

CombatShipping
[Maylene]

Walking into a gym just to say a simple greeting but getting punched in the face instead is something Aaron most certainly did not enjoy. Unfortunately, when the unsuspecting green-haired boy walked into the Veilstone City gym, he was greeted in such a way, in such a violent way: a large smack right in the middle of his right cheek, his jaw cracking and his cheek red and bleeding.

Walking into a gym and getting a kiss on the cheek after getting brutally hurt from the cute, pink-haired gym leader herself, however, made it all worth it.

.

.

.

DemoiselleShipping
[Clair]

The blue-haired woman coiled up her whip and examined the stinging pink flesh before her, savoring in the delicious whimpers that escaped the boy's chapped lips.

"Have you learned your lesson, boy?" Clair scoffed haughtily, staring at her masterpiece with livid eyes. "Ironic how the member of the Elite Four can look so pathetic under the correct conditions; but bug types are weak, and like Pokémon like trainer, as they say. Tell me," she whispered dangerously close to his ear, her teeth almost gnawing at his fragile, broken skin. "Do you like being perceived as weak? Are you… a masochist?"

The boy couldn't even bother to croak out a response as he passed out on the cold, grey, concrete floor, the torturous pain finally overtaking his entire body…

.

.

.

DependencyShipping
[Gardenia]

Gardenia gently strokes Aaron's hair with motherly affection, gushing at the fact the bug-type trainer is murmuring and gurgling random nonsense while in Morpheus's arms. The two-toned hair woman has always thought of the smallish bug-type trainer-still just eleven, the little darling-as her self-proclaimed younger brother, especially considering the fact that Aaron is an orphan. In his time of need, Gardenia welcomed Aaron with open arms and a wide smile, giving him absolutely he wished for. Typical for a true grass-type master like her to do something like this, though, as to nurture is in her nature.

Over the next few years, she can imagine Aaron blossoming into a lovely, dazzling flower if she waters and showers him with enough love. One day, she knows, Aaron will definitely be one of the greatest trainers out there, winning victory after victory without so much as lifting a finger. She wishes for that to happen to him, to her soon-to-be prodigy.

But for now, he is still cute little Aaron, and for now, Gardenia is happy.

.

.

.

EliteTrainerShipping
[Leaf]

Aaron.

He left me.

He left me.

And I just can't imagine why. He's always told me, "Oh, Anna, you are the most beautifulest, most gorgeous, most prettiest, most smartest, most cutest, most athletic girl ever, and I love you for that;" and even though it may have not been grammatically correct, even though my English professor would be irritated beyond belief if she were to ever read such a monstrosity, and even though "beautifulest" is a word that is nonexistent, such an imperfect sentence was perfect eye candy to my eyes. It was like he was a stranger in the midst of the night, prowling around with a bag of sweets, and he happened upon me and decided to snatch me up with the simple promises of a plethora of candies.

Like a child, I fell for it.

I fell for him.

Our relationship was the very epitome of adorableness, or at least that's what our friends would say. They called us the "puppy love couple," because even after months of being in a relationship, there was something about us that sparked the fervor usually found in brand-new, fresh-of-the-grill couples. That gave me a little bit of hope that we would survive the next years of school—all four of them. I'd like to think that it gave him a bit of hope, too.

At first, everything about us was so innocent and kiddy. We were so childish, giggling whilst holding hands, laughing at one another when we accidentally brush our elbows together, the skin-on-skin contact immensely electrifying. We always talked about the most random and nerdy stuff and we would make fun of people together.

(That word… that t word… it stabs at my heart now, because it's inexistent in my vocabulary.)

Then, we started getting a little bit more serious, a little bit more intimate. We started talking about kissing. For both of us, we were still lip virgins, never having kissing anyone before, and we were both so scared and so excited at the same time. I think I could've exploded from the strange amalgam of feelings bubbling up deep inside of me. I'd like to believe that he would've, too.

On our first date—he had asked me out to the movies through some incessant prattle and prolonged stuttering—we went to see a classic romance, which more or less set up the mood for perfect kissing time (honestly, that Wigglytuff so had the hots for Hitmonchan). My mother, unfortunately, tagging along for my safety, sat a few chairs next to me, so the nervousness between us was even more enraged with fury.

Throughout the entire movie, we kept stealing not so-clandestine glances at each other. We were smiling from ear to ear, I just knew, all so goofily and giddily. I loved it.

We continued this for the entire rest of the movie. Then, we both just looked at each other, concentrating so much. I could actually see my reflection in his eyes, and I'd like to think that he saw himself in mine.

And, all of a sudden, all at once, our mouths turned into magnets and attracted each other perfectly, and I found myself kissing him. We were both so inexperienced, yes, and it was brief, yes, and despite everything I've read there were no actual fireworks or anything, but the feeling of him having my first kiss and me having his was beyond satisfactory.

(Of course, I'd like to believe that he loved it as much as I did.)

Soon enough, we inched our way towards the dreaded French kissing. It took a lot of convincing on his part, but eventually, our tongues were down each other's throat in no time. He was such an adorably sloppy kisser, his tongue swirling all around the inside of my mouth; but the childishness of his actions in itself was enough to amuse me, to humor me, to make me fall in love even more with him.

(I always ended up breaking our kisses short due to my excessive and untimely giggle fits, though I'd like to believe he had great forbearance for me.)

Even then, we were still children. Even then, even with all this adult-like stuff going on in our relationship, we were still kids.

I think that may have been the problem.

We were so perfect, yet at the same time we weren't. After a few months into our relationship, I started getting cynical, paranoid, untrusting. It wasn't because of him, though. No, no way. I suppose… I just didn't trust myself enough, and in turn, I couldn't trust anyone else—and even though I'd like to believe I had my entire trust in him, I suppose I didn't.

So, whenever I saw him hanging out with another girl, a felt a little pinch at my heart. As time wore on, it grew to a stinging flick, then a punch, then an outright stab. And in no time I felt that my heart couldn't take it anymore, and I just started to point my finger about his cheating side behind his back.

I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me.

Yet, how was I to know, when we were both so young and childish?

I tried to ignore the jealousy sprouting inside of me. For a while, it worked. But, then, of course, he stopped showing his affection towards me. He started avoiding me through all means of communication, and he lied about being busy. I shrugged it off as a short phase, because hey, I could relate to his shoes too, as I knew that I had other things to worry about besides him. But, the depravity of the love and affection I sought from him was making my mind brittle with bitter paranoia, engulfing my thought process with shadows of distrust and rancor. So, I yelled at him and decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by ignoring him for a change.

Naturally, I couldn't stay mad at him forever, so the next day, after our first fight, I figured we would both be peppy-peppy-happy couple again and forget about everything and just forgive each other, like normal couples do. Except, he just blatantly ignored and avoided me, escaping class without waiting for me, sitting at another table without me. The entire day was torturous, and I eventually found myself crying, showing the weakness of my fragile femininity.

After being scolded by my best friend, he decided to talk to me.

And being the stubborn jerk-child I was, I refused to look at him. Not that I didn't forgive him (though, it took me a while to realize that this was all my fault), but because I didn't want him to see me crying like that… all because of him.

He left when he just couldn't take it anymore.

He left me.

He left me.

The very next day, we ignored each other like the plague. It was sickening to my stomach, and I found myself crying in every single class except for the classes I had with him, trying to make myself seem tough. But as soon as I was out of his sight, I would break down into nothing but tears.

A week later, I found that he was secretly dating another girl. I was mad beyond belief that I purposely acted like the biggest bitch in the entire world, even though that's completely against my usual personality traits. Not just to him and her, though, but to everyone; and I knew everyone got sick of it.

But what could I do? I had sought help from my friends, I had vent my anger through means of violence (with a pillow) and yelling and writing, I had tried to forget about everything, but nothing seemed to work. I was still a bitter child—a child who dropped her candy and wanted it back, and only wanted that one particular lollipop back, and no matter how hard your parents tried to sympathize with you and give you even better candy, you still wanted that one. The one you accidentally dropped. The one you accidentally let go of.

It's been years. I'd like to think he still thinks about me, but at the same time, I know that he hates me and never wants to see me ever again. Because whenever I look at him, he looks away and walks in the opposite direction, never turning back, never giving me another chance.

I cry myself to sleep every single night. I have flashbacks of the good times we had together, and I feel like I'm going to die from a broken heart, and literally too. When you suffer from heartbroken syndrome, you feel a pang in your chest that's so bluntly yet sharply painful, and you get all these good memories taunting and dancing around in your head, and your tear ducts just explode until you have no liquid left. All that's left of you is a bitter hatred that just accumulates and accumulates until you're just a giant mass of spite, wanting nothing more than to punch him and kiss him…

Nowadays, I still suffer from the pain of him leaving me. Whenever I see him, which is sparse, he is with another girl. I'd like to imagine that girl was me, but alas, it wasn't and it would never be—never again.

I think my eyes started turning a little bit of green, though.

.

.

.

EliteUnderShipping
[Lucian]

"Aaron, a word, if I may?"

The boy aforementioned, who was already making his way out of the room, looked back solemnly as others gave him a smug look of pity. He trailed slowly back down to his teacher's desk and forced a smile on. He wasn't sure what his teacher could possibly want from him on the first minute of winter break, but whatever it was… It oughta be really important, he thought quietly to himself, grimacing mentally.

The teacher gave him a weak smile and started skimming through a stack of test papers on her desk. "Aaron," she said calmly but sternly, "I'm worried about your grades. They're so close to failing, in my terms, so far. I suggest you work harder on studying, mister Aaron."

"I am studying," Aaron objected, feeling affronted by the assumption. "I am studying hard! I just… I just don't get some things, y'know?"

"I realize that. Which is why you are in need of help." Aaron frowned at the teacher's words but said nothing, only listened to the rest of the teacher's speech. "I suggest turning to mister Lucian. He is a very excellent and well-mannered child in one of my senior class. I am positive that you two would get along very well. He is a very charming young lad, he is."

"Umm, okay," Aaron said hesitantly, looking at the clock on the wall. It was already five minutes after class! Hastily, Aaron looked at his teacher and said, "Look, I have to go. I'll talk to him when I see him," and dashed out of the room without another word. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking where he was going and…

Bam!

Aaron fell on his buttocks with a loud thud, and he looked up in irritation to see who he bumped into. It was a tall guy—more than likely a senior—wearing a red suit of all things and a pair of purple-tinted glasses to match his hair. He looked like somebody who was picked on a lot, Aaron decided; and Aaron did not associate with anyone like that.

The teacher laughed a husky old laugh and helped the green-haired boy up, standing behind Lucian thereafter and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ahh, what a coincidence! Aaron, this here is the star student I was telling you about. Lucian."

Lucian the nerd, Aaron thought bitterly. He put the best happy façade he could, however, which made the purple-haired boy in front of him smile back. Aaron thought he was going to puke.

"Lucian, this here is Aaron. He's… struggling a bit with school. You won't mind being his tutor, now, won't you?"

"Not at all. I just got back from a debate tournament, and I would love to sit down and relax with… Aaron, was it?" Aaron nodded, and Lucian continued happily, "I'm always willing to make new friends."

Because you don't have any, Aaron thought again in the same bitter tone. But out loud, he was happy and ecstatic, saying, "Great, me too! When can we start?"

"Oh, right now, if that's okay with you. I was actually just on my way to the Canalave library," Lucian explained. "Would you like to walk there with me?"

"Yeah… I'd love to…" Aaron tried to feign another big smile, and Lucian just looked at him, then smiled and started walking off. Aaron quickly followed suit, his short legs having a hard time catching up to Lucian's long ones. But when he finally did, they were already out of the school and going to the direction of the library. The walk there was long and silent, and Aaron just wanted to shoot himself then and there for agreeing to such a thing. He could've been having fun out with his friends right now, but no. He just had to get into a long speech about his grades, and he just had to magically bump into the tutor his teacher suggested, and he just had to lie and say that he was free right now. Because even though he was, he didn't want to be if it meant having to go on a study date with this loser!

Whilst going on and on inside his head, Aaron didn't notice that they were finally at the library until Lucian started talking, snapping Aaron out of his dazed reverie. "Here we are."

Aaron groaned internally. "Awesome."

The two walked inside together and immediately found an empty table. Aaron claimed it and sat down, Lucian sitting down a bit too far away from where Aaron was. The green-haired boy was at least grateful that Lucian knew his proper status quo and left Aaron to his imaginary bubble. That was probably the only good thing about the weird purple-haired nerd.

"Let us begin, shall we?" Lucian asked. Aaron nodded halfheartedly. The preceding continued, "so, what is the subject you're struggling in."

"All of them, apparently," Aaron said in a faux-disheartened tone. Lucian looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "I swear the teacher hates me. He's always picking on me about everything and anything. It's not fair, y'know…"

"I'm sorry," Lucian empathized. "The teacher is nice to me. Has been for all four years. Maybe he's just trying to he—"

"He's nice to you because you're a nerd," Aaron piped out bitterly as he put his head on the table. "He's nice to you because you aren't cool. Okay? I'm cool. I'm the most popular guy in the freshman class. Of course he'd pick on me, so just shut the… Augh!"

"Shh!" Lucian whispered sharply. Aaron looked at him with the stink eye, making Lucian sigh out loud, a despondent look washing over his face. "I have realized from the moment I saw you that you didn't like me. Like you've said, I am most certainly not cool." Aaron suddenly looked down at the table, feeling a little bit bad that he had said something so cruel to a stranger, lest of all someone who was willing to help him. "I am a nerd. I have been bullied before. But honestly, I don't care. In a few years, nothing like that will matter. In a few years, I'm planning on being a part of the grand group of Elite Fours, and despite whatever anyone says, I'm determined to keep that dream alive until I achieve it."

Aaron's eyes suddenly perked up. "I… I want to be part of the Elite Four too!" Aaron said softly, but with a lot of passion, as he picked his head up from the table and for once looked at Lucian straight in the eyes. "I've always wanted to be in the Elite Four. That's been my dream since forever. But… no one knows that about me. No one knows I want to be in the Elite Four." Aaron looked down. "The only reason I'm popular is because I'm a good trainer, you know. Or at least, that's what people say. I'd like to say I am, too. But I pretend I train dragon types, because everyone knows they're the coolest." Aaron's voice suddenly turned into a low, almost inaudible whisper as he said, "But the truth is, I train bug types."

"Bug types?" Lucian echoed.

Aaron snarled. "Laugh all you want. It's the truth. I have no clue why I'm saying this to you, by the way. I guess it's just that I haven't met anyone else with the same dream as me, I guess. Yeah, that must be it."

"I'm not laughing," Lucian said solemnly. "I actually admire you for picking bug-types, of all types. Not to be offensive in any way, but it is common knowledge that people think bug types are the weakest." Aaron frowned, and Lucian saw it, making him continue respectfully, "But I think every type has their strengths and weaknesses. For bug-type specialists, it's the perceived weakness. People may think you're weak and scoff at you, but you can turn that arrogance against them in battle and win. That's what I think, at least."

"Hey, that's my philosophy, too…" Aaron looked at Lucian and suddenly found that he didn't look all that nerdy anymore. In fact, he radiated a sense of cool, calm, collected—an aura that just screamed perfect trainer. And it was at that moment that Aaron realized Lucian wasn't what he seemed to be. "You're actually pretty cool, Lucian," Aaron affirmed out loud, smiling.

Lucian blushed. "I… thank you. No one has ever told me that before."

"Has anyone told you you're hot?" Aaron grinned teasingly. "Because you kinda are."

"Err, not that either." The blush on Lucian's face began to glow brighter and brighter each second.

Aaron looked at the clock on the wall again, and he said, "Well, it's kinda getting late now. We didn't do any studying… but we will tomorrow, right?"

Lucian's eyes brightened with hope and a sense of mirth. "Yes. Yes, of course!"

"It's a date then," Aaron confirmed, and with that, he hugged the purple-haired man and walked out of the library, feeling light and ready to fly.

.

.

.

FrozenThistleShipping
[Brycen]

Brycen. Just that name gave me the chills—in a good way. Whenever I look at him, I can't help but think how absolutely cool he looks. Mhmm, and that chiseled ches—

"Aaron, I know you're out there. You can't hide your strong scent of honey, you know."

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I scurried off, not wanting to stick around to see what he would do to me…

.

.

.

FunkytownShipping
[Looker]

"You are sure that you are not, as to say, part of a secret organization that may or may not possibly take over the world and have taken a part of the—how do you say it?—kidnapization of the famous Lake Trio, yes?" Looker prods Aaron's green hair with his index finger curiously, his thick eyebrows fluctuating up and down in a weird manner. "You have the peculiar hairstyle, but you seem much more—err, what was it again?—adorably cute, I think?"

"You hang out with Cynthia too much," Aaron affirmed with a scowl; but, he could not stop the warm, tingly feelings that surged through his veins with every touch the man gave him.

.

.

.

GlycerolShipping
[Candice]

Candice wraps her tongue around the sparkling, white ice cream cone, savoring in the amalgam of sweet and cold flavors. The rush of the freeze makes the ice around her heart melt, and when she sees another tongue appear on the same ice cream cone, she internally smiles in content and sees that Aaron smiles happily too, his gloved hands securing Candice's own. For once, she can say that she feels warm in the freezing, Snowpoint air.

.

.

.

GreenHairShipping
[Drew]

A rose—the famous symbol for ravaging beauty. It is a masterpiece of nature, a salacious little lady that sprouts in bushes, tempting to be looked at, tempting to be touched. But, once flesh makes contact with the stem, you feel the thorns, and you feel the pain, and you feel the blood trickling from the puncture the rose makes. And though Drew adores roses—even though Drew just can't get enough of these roses; call him a masochist if you'd like—he feels enraptured by the sheer splendor… the sheer exquisiteness… of the beast within a beauty.

Just like Aaron.

.

.

.

HelpI'veGotCrabsShipping
[Misty]

"Aaron, get these stupid bugs away from me!"

I feel a pair of soft arms wrap around my chest, a head resting softly against my back. I sigh, empathetic, and wrap an arm around the pretty little redhead, whose face is flushed with fear and embarrassment, and whose scowl is a permanent feature on her face. Nonetheless, I can't help but admire her endless beauty, as if she is a mischievous little mermaid that makes all the men swoon. I am one of them.

Hopefully, I'm the only one that she notices.

.

.

.

HerculesShipping
[Barry]

The moment I found out the first member of the Elite Four used bug-type Pokémon, I laughed wholeheartedly, very much amused, and grinned at my Staraptor with malicious intent. I knew the battle would be an easy one, and the fact that I only had to use one Pokemon to claim my victory and be only that many steps closer to becoming champion brought a sense of satisfaction to my being. I couldn't wait, especially when I found the light at the end of Victory Road.

The moment I entered the Elite Four building and breathed in the strong stench of victory, I stared down at the door and casually made my way to it, my face beaming with a sort of moxie that I hadn't shown after a depressing defeat a la my rival (hey, she's a pretty good trainer for a girl!).

The moment I saw him, my jaw dropped to the floor and I felt like I couldn't bring myself to defeating him anymore.

'Nuff said.

.

.

.

HitodamaShipping
[Phoebe]

"You should use a Shedinja," Aaron says, and Phoebe stops all movement at that, looking at the grinning, green-haired boy with an odd expression gracing her pretty little features. The way her eyebrow raises substantially height, and the way her lips quiver with a sense of confusion, and the way her hands tentatively adjust her outfit makes Aaron laugh.

"Why do you say that?" inquires the tanned beauty. "One hit, and it's out. I know ghost types are my specialty, but that doesn't mean I like every single ghost type Pokémon out there. Shedinja is one of the ones that I particularly don't favor."

Aaron agrees wholeheartedly, "it is a glass cannon. But if you look at it—look at its magnificent beauty—then you will surely fall in love with it. Plus, I think it suits you, glass cannon and all."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Phoebe shoots Aaron a warning glare, one that he doesn't catch in time.

"Well, you are kind of hotheaded, like you'll explode like a Volcarona any moment no—yowch!"

Aaron winces as he feels for the protruding bump on his head, made possible thanks to Phoebe's hard whack, and the green-haired boy sadly watches as the petulant little island girl stomps away without another word. He's depressed that he couldn't tell the beautiful girl how like glass, she's strong-willed yet fragile, and absolutely and clearly pretty.

.

.

.

HushShipping
[Falkner]

Shh…

A petite hand brushes its slender fingers against the dim rosy, pale cheeks of the young green-haired boy, a solemn tone in those big blue eyes of the preceding. The latter looks so fragile in his sleeping position—his eyes, with its thick eyelashes, closed tightly; his hair roughly matted into a tousled mess of caliginous forest green; his moist pink lips barely parted with a small hint of drool gently rolling down below his bottom lip; his soft, pallid fingers entwined with one another, resting beautifully just under his ear—it is as if even a single, gentle touch to his body would break him. It looks as if a single touch would, in fact, taint him with an improper hideousness Falkner wouldn't want to befall the precious little thing. It looks as if Aaron isn't even a real human, but a mint-conditioned porcelain doll. So vulnerable, so fragile, so breakable.

This is the moment of silence.

.

.

.

InsectFetishShipping
[Tucker]

"Aaron, darling… you have the ability to become a beautiful Beautifly with your wings. You have the ability to rule them all, to be the best trainer of them all, to be in the Battle Frontier with us and make the other mundane, weak, boring trainers take a run for their money. All you need, really, is my assistance, so let me guide your wings to this stardom; let us fly to fame—together."

.

.

.

InsectShipping
[Bugsy]

Metamorphosis.

A biological process.

A development.

A change.

A change that happens over time, over the course of one's life, that makes them grow and evolve into something new.

Someone new.

But please don't ever change, Aaron; because you are already a beautiful butterfly in my eyes.

.

.

.

KatydidShipping
[Blue]

"Is it just me, or are you made of honey because all the Combee dance around you?"

"I've heard that one before."

"Then how about… You must be a Galvantula, because you've got me paralyzed; or are you an Ariados, and I'm the prey caught in your web?"

"What, did you say something?"

"You make me Shuckle?"

"Yawn…"

"Err, how about—"

"Look, Aaron, you're sweet and all, but your pickup lines suck. Just try saying 'I love you' and all will be all right."

"Oh, okay. I… love you, Blue."

"That's more like it, sweet-stuff."

.

.

.

KhepryShipping
[Dawn]

"Oh my gosh, I'm your biggest fan!" Dawn gushes out loud as she rams her way through the crowd in order to be face-to-face with the dream teen of the Sinnoh Elite Four, Aaron—also known as the bug-type master and the most adorable boy in the world! "Please please please, can I have your autograph?" The blue-haired girl blushes and hands the bug-type specialist her precious notebook, in which she wrote everything in.

Aaron accepts the notebook happily and carefully writes his name, his hand movements akin to the way his Vespiquen moved during battle. When the green-haired boy returns the notebook to its rightful owner, Dawn gushes again and almost falls to the ground, her head light and happy. Aaron smirks and catches her in time, breaking her fall, and winks at her. "No need for a pretty little girl like you to get hurt, right?"

.

.

.

LacewingShipping
[Red (game)]

Aaron,

I know I do not speak much, but I must tell you that I really do care about you. When you found me on top of Mt. Silver, practically on the verge of hypothermia, you saved me without a second's hesitation. You brought me to the nearest hospital and demanded for immediate care, as it was the matter of "life or death". You stayed by my side and helped me recover from my chills, even if you risked losing your duties as an Elite Four member as well as risking your health. Lack of sleep is not very good for you, you know… And, even when I fully recovered from the incident, you still continued to pester me and kept telling me never to do that again. No one has ever cared this much about me. No one has ever showed… such kindness to me. I didn't think goodness existed anymore after what I've been through, but you have proved me wrong.

I'd just like to say thanks. Thanks for taking care of a stranger. You've made me realize the stupidity in my actions. I will forever be in your debt.

Sincerely,
The dumb Mt. Silver trainer, Red

.

.

.

LicoriceShipping
[Darach]

Darach looks down upon Aaron with a simple smile. "Lady Caitlin is currently not available. However, if you may, you are more than happy to leave a message."

"Alright," Aaron says, smirking deviously. "Please tell your Lady that I, Aaron, would very much enjoy spending a day with her beloved butler, the butler who I fought against and won, the butler who has a grace that surpasses the beauty of even my bugs, and the butler whose lips are sweeter than the honey of a Combee. Tell her that, word for word." Aaron pauses. "Oh, and you're redder than a Scizor right now. Just to let you know."

Darach nods, then nods, then nods a third time before melting into a puddle of flustered stuttering. Aaron just giggles—slow and mischievous—as he casually walks away, quite satisfied with himself.

.

.

.

LightningBugShipping
[Volkner]

Volkner stares at the green-haired boy with wide, blue, wondering eyes, watching as the bug-type master trips over his own two feet and mumbles out the most nonsensical prattle. The scene is amusing, but Volkner is an honorable man and feels compelled to help the poor drunken boy even if it was Aaron's fault for being stubborn enough to follow the other gym leaders to the bar, Aaron being the youngest at only eighteen whereas the rest are in their mid-twenties.

The bored blonde scoops the flailing boy up in his arms with irritated ease, feeling the fidgeting boy finally calm down after a few hiccups and a knock on the head a la Volkner. He then starts to reprimand the green-haired boy for his actions in a cool and casual manner when he realizes that Aaron looks at least half-sober. Aaron nods every once in a while, indicating that he is at least listening and maybe understanding, and Volkner continues his long speech despite himself. However, his speech is suddenly cut short when he feels a pair of soft hands cradle his face.

He looks down at the green-haired boy, looks down at the half-lidded green eyes and how they look like they're starving. Aaron licks his soft pink lips and gingerly starts trailing kisses along Volkner's neck, making Volkner feel a tinge of paralysis upon every touch. It doesn't take long for realization to hit the electric-type master when he finds the parallel between Aaron and a hungry, hungry Galvantula…

"Galvantula, the EleSpider Pokémon. They employ an electrically charged web to trap their prey. While it is immobilized by shock, they leisurely consume it."

.

.

.

MyrtleShipping
[Wally]

Aaron and Wally sit close next to each other on the Verdenturf meadow, watching as strangely-shaped clouds pass by them in a gentle, swaying dance. Aaron points out one that has similar bearings to the shape of a Silcoon. Wally laughs and points at a different one that is shaped just like a Swablu, giant puffy clouds and all. The two then laugh and wonder if the clouds are all just a flock of Swablu, and the two continue to point out each and every single one of the shapes for the rest of the dreary afternoon. Until, that is, they notice—all at once, simultaneously, as if by a stroke of serendipity—that one of them is shaped just like a Luvdisc.

.

.

.

RaidStopsRoachesShipping
[Janine]

"You know, it's nice that you have a dad," Aaron says in a surreal, dreamy tone, looking up at the sky with a pair of melancholy eyes. He rests his head on his knees, and the purple-haired girl beside him suddenly tenses up at the comment, feeling a tinge of sadness emitting from her own soul. She frowns, she really does, and thinks of a way to comfort the poor, green-haired orphan. Apparently, Aaron hasn't told many people about what happened to his parents, and he had entrusted Janine with the information, for she was "someone he could trust without even thinking about it". She doesn't know what to do, however, and instead just succumbs to the mood and puts a gentle, caring hand on his back.

"I'll share my dad with you, if you'd like. You're already family already."

That is all Aaron wants to hear.

.

.

.

ReleaseButterflyShipping
[Ash]

Whilst walking through Eterna Forest, Aaron hears the flapping of wings and immediately turns around, finding a lone Butterfree with a yellow scarf. Curiously, Aaron walks over to it and pets it, thinking how strange it is to find a Butterfree all the way in Sinnoh. But when he touches it, he feels something warm—something nostalgic—spark his fingertips, making him retract as the memories flood in. He watches as the memories go by, watches as the memories of the black-haired boy from not too long ago reappear in his thoughts, and he smiles and stares at the Butterfree long and hard.

"You remind me of Ash, oddly. Don't know why… But it's alright." Aaron grins. "That just means I'll always have a little bit of Ash with me, huh?"

.

.

.

RhymeShipping
[Karen]

As Karen adjusts the temperature of his shower, finding some sweet-smelling bottle of shampoo from the counter with matching conditioner bottle, and swiping a bar of fruity-licious soap too, she throws the items into the tub and strips herself down naked. She smiles as she stretches his long legs and arms, cracking her neck a few times, and then dives straight into the tub. She controls the pressure of the water, shivering at how warm it is, and starts to relax at the equilibrium of temperature.

When Karen snatches the bottle of shampoo, she snickers and raises it to his lips, singing the most random song she could think of. She grabs the conditioner and positions it in front of him, visualizing Aaron singing along with her. "Hi Karen! Hi Aaron! You wanna go for a ride? Sure, Aaron! Jump in!" She shakes her butt to the beat of the song, laughing as she opens the bottle and squirts some shampoo into her beautiful silver hair whilst singing the next verse. "I'm a pretty girl, in a pretty wo-oo-orld! Life's ecstatic! It's fantastic!"

From the other side of the bathroom door, Aaron is already strippinjg down and getting ready to take a shower. Although, the older Elite Four member's singing makes Aaron stop abruptly in front of the door, her face cracking from trying to contain his fierce laugh. "You can brush my hair, undress me any-whe-ee-ere! Imagination, life is your creation!"

Aaron can't stop himself any longer. He starts chortling, amused by the dark-type master's amazing singing skills, but Karen seems oblivious of Aaron's sudden, stentorian laughter. She keeps on singing, which in turn makes Aaron laugh louder and louder.

"I'm a hot single girl in the fantasy world; dress me up, take your time, I'm your dollie!"

Aaron snickers, trying to stop himself from his laughing fit for at least the next part: "You're my doll, rock and roll, feel the glamour and pain; kiss me here, touch me there, hanky-panky," Aaron sings quietly to himself, his laughter ceasing as his mind starts to subconsciously fantasize about the current situation.

.

.

.

ScorchShipping
[Flint]

Hmm, let's see… what could Volkner and I do today? Flint wonders to himself in a giddy manner, his eyes flaming with excitement and passion as he reaches for the doorknob. His movements are unbearably energetic from all the glee riling up inside of him just by thinking about what fun activity he would be doing with his best friend today; it wasn't everyday he would have a free, anti-stressful day away from the Elite Four, so whenever he managed to have one of those rare opportunities, he would use it up wisely, up to the last second. He was wasting time right now, what, with musing and lingering on the thought instead of actually doing it! He could have very well been with his best friend right now if it weren't for his dilly-dallying!

Mentally smacking himself, the redhead opens the door and steps out of the stuffy Elite Four building, breathing in the fresh air of—

"No!"

A sudden force smashes against Flint's back, making him slightly jerk forward, though the pale, skinny arms that wrapped themselves around his waist saved Flint from inevitable doom. The redhead looked behind him to see a tousle of green mess buried deep into his back, making him smile empathetically.

"Aaron?" Flint asks, trying to free himself of Aaron's suffocating grip. Unfortunately, he is unable to pry himself, and after a few failed attempts and after a few menacing growls after every failed attempt, Flint sighed and desisted, letting the bug-type master do whatever he wished. "What's wrong, Mac-aaron-ee? You're usually the one who's always smiling away everyone's tears."

"You're always leaving," Aaron half-barks, half-sobs into the back of Flint's shirt. Flint suddenly feels something wet trailing down his shirt, making him feel even more empathetic for the poor little green-haired boy. "You're always going off to Sunyshore and leaving us alone—leaving me alone!"

"I'm… sorry," Flint says softly, placing a reassuring hand on the green-haired boy's shoulder. "You know I love you guys, except when Bertha makes those disgusting meatloaf things, or when Lucian favors his books over me, or when Cynthia bosses me around because she's the self-proclaimed leader of the house… or when a certain cute little bug-type trainer starts crying right in front of me. It makes me feel like a jerk, man."

Upon hearing the statement obviously directed at him, Aaron lets go of Flint, making it so the redhead could finally breathe again. The green-haired boy looks up with teary green eyes, face flushed with sadness, eyebrows drooping, nose a waterfall of snot… Flint can't help but smile at the adorable sight, handing Aaron his favorite wristband to blow his nose. Aaron hesitantly accepts.

"Look, if you want, you can hang with us. Volkner and I would love to have our favorite little Elite Four member chill with us. It'll be loads of fun!" Flint looks at the still-sniffling Aaron. "So, whaddya say, Mac-aaron-ee?"

Slowly, Aaron nods his head, and Flint gushes out happily. "Awesome! We're gonna have loads of fun! Whaddya think of going to the Nimbasa City? Oh! What about we go and visit the Hoenn league? We haven't seen those guys in forever!"

As Flint continues his perpetual prattle, Aaron just thinks to himself, I don't mind what we do. As long as Volkner shares you with me.

.

.

.

ShellacShipping
[Burgh]

Purple. Fuzzy. Big, round, innocent red eyes, just staring at Aaron, begging and pleading and scrutinizing. Aaron gently embraces the tiny bug in his arms and looks at the owner of such an adorable bug, watching as said owner confidently holds the tips of Aaron's dainty fingers in his own big palms.

"Today is Valentine's Day," Burgh says endearingly, putting more pressure in the hold. "And Aaron, this is something I have always wanted to tell you: you, Aaron, the magnificent and most inspiring trainer I have ever set my eyes on… Your grace is unmatched, your mastery of the bug type is to die for. And your beautiful demeanor—your luscious green eyes that sparkle like a lake in the middle of a forest,; the locks that cradle your soft, pink face like the perfect picture frame; your voice, an echo of purity, ringing through my ears like the gentle buzz of a Ledian's wings—is something to be craved for, something that attracts a swarm of Combee, as it is sweet and pure like honey. You are the Illumise to my Volbeat, the Beautifly to my Dustox, the Accelgor to my Escavalier… You are my absolute muse—the inspiration that perpetuates me to paint, to live, to draw; and I hope you reciprocate my feelings, for like an Ariados, you have trapped my heart in a web, and though I struggle, I can never break free. I hope never to break free."

"I…" Aaron stutters hesitantly, feeling the warm feeling escalating up to his face. "I don't know what to say…"

"Well, then, answer me this: please, will you be my Venonat?"

.

.

.

SimCityShipping
[Cilan]

A pair of scrutinizing green eyes scans the menu with pondering delight, hungry for every single item on the menu. The three waiters wait patiently for the green-haired boy to finish looking at the menu, their hands ready to scribble down anything on a moment's notice.

Finally, after a few more moments of picking out from the delectable list of pastries and drinks, Aaron sets the menu down and happily says, "I have no clue what to order!"

The waiters look at each other with hearty laughs, each one of the handsome waiters moving closer towards their guest. Said guest looks at each one of their faces, raising his brow at the tentative one that is just slightly further back from his brothers.

"Hi, I'm Chili! I would suggest the dacquoise—a lovely French cake with almond and hazelnut meringue and buttercream that is a perfect match for your cute, natural demeanor," says the redheaded waiter, winking teasingly, his eyes burning with fiery passion.

The blue-haired waiter, giving a wide and confident grin, suggests, "Or you could try today's specialty, the tiramisu, a very popular Italian cake made of biscuits dipped in coffee, then doused in a layer of egg yolks and mascarpone, sparkled lightly with a gentle flavor of cocoa." He laughs quietly, smoothly, like the movements of a placid stream. "Cress wants to say that tiramisu literally means 'pick me up,' so if you are interested…"

"M-maybe," the green-haired waiter finally speaks up, gently prodding in-between his brothers. He smiles genuinely, sweetly, making Aaron's heart flutter. "You could, um, try our best cake, the gingerbread. It is, er, well… it is a simple cake… a soft cake… with a predominant flavor of ginger, and we add a bit of honey—err, that is to say if you'd want it—to enhance a bit of the sweetness… Oh, and, um, my name is Cilan." His voice is gentle and stutters like a leaf dancing in the wind, a beautiful melody in Aaron's ears.

"Everything sounds really good," Aaron says dreamily, staring at each one of the waiters in the eyes. "But, now that I think about it… I really want a Cilan."

"Coming right u—wait, huh? Cilan?" Corn says with a surprised looking, his mouth hanging opening. Chili shares the exact same expression, his eyes wandering from Cilan to Aaron, Aaron to Cilan. The green-haired waiter just gives a happy notion, smiling a smallish smile, and bows to the guest in the most elegant way possible.

"I would… very much enjoy to give myself to you. Thank you."

Giggling softly, Aaron puts his hands on each one of Cilan's flushed cheeks and rubs their nose together, sighing in content.

Meanwhile, the other guests in the restaurant—which is to say the only other population in the restaurant, which is female—gushes at the scene and begins to take pictures, savoring in the newly-brewed flavor of love emitting between the two green-haired boys.

.

.

.

StopBuggingMeShipping
[Bianca]

"So cute!" Bianca exclaims loudly as she starts sprinting towards the unsuspecting green-haired boy. Said boy turns around and screams, trying his hardest to escape the wrath of the incoming attack, but he cannot for it's too late, and soon enough he finds himself on the floor, the bubbly girl on top of him.

.

.

.

SunShipping
[Buck]

"You guys stay right here. I won't be gone for long," Flint says happily, smiling at Aaron but glaring at his younger brother as if to say, "play nice and don't do anything stupid". Buck, feeling affronted, crosses his arms over his chest in a defiant manner and glares back at his older brother in a way that said, "you play nice with Volkner". Flint, in turn, shoots back another glare that said, "touché" and leaves without another word, leaving Buck and Aaron all alone. In the house. On the small couch. Together.

Together.

"So, err, what do you like?"

Aaron shrugs nonchalantly, kicking his feet into the air. "Nothing noteworthy."

Buck mentally swears at himself for being such a failure at starting conversations when he sees Aaron look at him with a dumb expression on his face. Buck looks away awkwardly.

"Err, yeah…"

"Yeah…"

"This… is… awkward."

"I know."

"Err," Buck mumbles for the fiftieth time in just a single minute, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Wanna see my Cloyster? Maybe even my Steelix? They're pretty tough to beat."

"Oh, I'd lo—wait a minute…" Aaron's face immediately turns red as he looks away, drawing pathetic little circles on the couch with his index finger. Buck looks at him curiously, wondering what exactly was wrong with the green-haired trainer, until realization dawns him and his face explodes from embarrassment.

Damn, he thinks to himself, covering his hot cheeks with his clammy hands. I hate awkward moments.

.

.

.

SystemBugShipping/TealeafShipping
[Thorton]

"Bzweeeeep! Salutations, Aaron," Thorton says in his nasally voice, saluting the green-haired boy like a true soldier. "It is certainly a benediction for someone of your high stature to be here unannounced. Ah, have you seen my latest invention? It's designed to analyze data at an incredible pace and is able to hold a good fifty gigabytes worth of information. It's definitely a breakthrough in the technological world, and if you'd like, I would enjoy demonstr—"

Thorton feels his tie suddenly being pulled, and in a matter of seconds, he feels hot puffs of breathes against his cheek. Aaron puffs out his cheeks in an irritated manner and says, "Just shut up and kiss me, nerd."

.

.

.

TotallyAmpedShipping
[Will]

"Aaron, who do you like?"

The question is sudden and catches Aaron off guard, thus making the green-haired boy topple over and meet the grassy ground face first. Gasping and regretting the spontaneous question, Will runs up to the green-haired boy and offers a gloved hand. Aaron, though he is glaring deadly daggers into Will's soul, accepts the hand. But, after Will pulls him up, Aaron immediately puffs out his cheeks as an indication to his irritation, his face covered in blades of glossy grass.

"That was really uncalled for," Aaron reprimands, nodding in childish disappointment. "Really. I could have died right then and there if it weren't for the grass."

"You're being overdramatic," Will says, rolling his eyes. He picks the blades of grass off of the petulant boy's face and giggles softly at the patterns of grass stains that painted itself on Aaron's face. Though, he makes no mention of it and instead reiterates carefully, "So… will you tell me who you like?"

"Why do you wanna know?" Aaron asks suspiciously, raising a brow.

Will shrugs. "Just wondering. We're best friends, anyway. You should be able to tell me anything."

"Tell me who you like first, then."

"I will," Will says slyly, smirking. "After you tell me who you like."

Aaron flushes and thinks about the compromise, then quickly says, "I like your brother," the words coming out in an almost incoherent jumble. However, Will is able to make out the last word and frowns on the immediate of the realization that his best friend, Aaron, has a crush on his very own brother…

And not him!

"Now tell me who you like," Aaron challenges, unaware of how upset Will is. This time, Will is the one who is caught off guard at the question and he thinks carefully of what to say.

"I like…" Will looks off into the distance and moves closer to the green-haired boy, who just stands there and looks at his best friend curiously. "I like you…r brother."

"But I don't even have one," Aaron says, his eyes widening and his cheeks flushing to a bright pink when he realizes that Will's face is way too close for comfort.

Lividly, Will says, "I know," and closes the gap between them with a sweet peck on the lips, retracting quickly to scrutinize the green-haired boy's horrified look. "I know."

.

.

.

TwinkShipping
[James]

"You know, you kinda remind me of Lucian."

Hearing those harsh words escape the lips of the boy he loved made James's heart ache with melancholy and sorrow, made his heart twist with construed hope, made it want to bleed out all the hurt and pain from the sharp words that sliced through it.

"Your hair is really silky and purple. I really like that."

Lucian… oh, how he hated that name! How he hated that very soul, the soul that graces the world with an eloquent charm that James himself can never seem to fathom! How he hated the soul… that wretched man that stole what used to be his. How he hated Lucian for stealing James's precious little Aaron.

"Oh, you have a Chimecho and Mime Jr? That's cool! Psychic types are the best! Right after bug, that is."

In battling, in love, in everything, the world-renowned psychic-type elitist was always ten steps farther along in the success of life than James. Maybe even possibly fifty steps, or a hundred steps, or even a million steps; whatever the case, the gap is wide, so wide that James can never catch up, can never redeem himself.

"You know, you kinda remind me of Lucian. Except, you aren't him."

.

.

.

XrayShipping
[Koga]

With an extremely ruddy face, Aaron bows his head hastily and struggles to keep a calm composure, his feet quacking with nervousness and his fickle fingers tugging at his green robes. "Please," he whispers out tentatively, his eyes still locked on his feet. "Please teach me the ways of perfecting myself like you, Sensei Koga!"

Koga looks at the green-haired boy with a blank face. Then, after a few moments of silent contemplation, the navy-haired man smiles and gently ruffles Aaron's hair. Aaron looks up at the gentle face of the poison-type master and feels his already-red cheeks burning up even more. Koga chuckles bemusedly.

"Alright," the poison-type master finally says, kneeling down so the two could see eye to eye, literally. "I will teach you, my young grasshopper."

The green-haired boy looks up at him incredulously. "Really?"

Koga nods. Aaron immediately perks up and subconsciously wraps his short arms around Koga's waist. Then, the preceding tightens the embrace as much as he can, making Koga chuckle in the same amused tone as before.

"Well, let us begin, shall we, my young grasshopper?"

Am I really crazy enough to be doing this? Apparently, I am. Each chapter will be for a different character, complete with short and sweet drabbles for each pairing. The only pairings that aren't present are the ones with more than two people, the ones with a character from a movie, the ones with a "character of the day," or pairings with an actual Pokèmon. The latter is because of the fact there are so many Pokèmon right now, and it would be a pain for everyone and myself to go sift through six hundred something drabbles of the same creature over and over again, just with different people. I may do an exception for Ash and his Pikachu, but that's it.

Next victim: Agatha!