#running from responsibilites

[lynxsai]

EmuNene my beloved, one of my fav otps ;;;;;

[mimi-fy]

Why is there always a cake in mouthwashing and what does it mean?

Cake is oftenly a thing people eat for pleasure or celebration. It can represent the sweetness and joy of life, the cake the pony express gives out of birthdays is only a one time thing. And it’s ‘mediocre at best.’ The cake can represent many things, the pony express, the joys in life and many other things like responsibilities. Jimmy saying it’s mediocre at best means that the cake in this instance represents the treatment of the pony express to the crew. The cake is meant to represent good things, but in the tulpar the cake is only mediocre. The good things they get from the pony express is only mediocre (the treatment, resources, entertainment) but they still stay and have cake they shut up and take their fair slice of the cake (money/responsibilities). But it can also mean when curly gives the information that their being laid off, the happiness of the cake just goes away, the happiness is cut up as a whole. Curly cuts the cake and cuts the happiness of the crew, they were so happy and respected curly at the start of the party but then the atmosphere is tense. When curly becomes the cake jimmy is the one cutting it, cutting away curlys happiness. Whenever jimmy cuts through curly or the ‘cake’ its symbolizing that jimmy is taking away the sweetness of his life and others lives, the good. And jimmy does, he directly and indirectly kills the crew, makes them unhappy makes everything chaotic. The cake can also represent responsibility, cutting it up into equal shares and dividing them, which is why curly is the one who cuts the real cake and divides it instead of jimmy because curly is the real leader, he knows how to take charge (to some extent) but he knows how to be a captain and keep the ship running. While jimmy can only have some control, he wants his own party (crew) his own cake (rewards/responsibilites) but when gets it. He doesnt know what to do. So its why he never gets it, he only gets the subpar stuff, a dead crew, and a cake that he doesnt want to take responsibility over (curly and his post crash look) or jimmys being denied his share of cake because he has not yet taken responsibility so he gets curly instead (his mistake) as cake is a dessert and you get it after working, after a proper meal. You cant just have your cake and eat it too...

(Pls check my account for other analysis ive wrote if you enjoyed this one!)

Edit! I also forgot to mention that the scene where they have the party, the reason why jimmy cuts curlys leg off would’ve been one last hope to get rid of his responsibility and that curly could take the responsibility (curlys leg) instead of jimmy like always.

[nthspecialll]

The complexity of love

Abigail and John has, as we all know, had a very rocky run leading up to the fairly happy family we know them as in 1911 with John giving up everything he had to save them, and sadly that rocky run was majorily John's fault. (Dont worry this wont just be me bashing in Johns head with a bat)

Throughout the first few chapters we can see Abigail desperately try to get John to put in an effort, if not with her, at least with their son, growing up as an orphan she most likely knew how much it sucked missing parental love, and wishing the best for her boy.

While Abigail does show aggression, such as calling John a fool and hitting him, it isn't without reason.

Abigail is heavily reliant on John due to the lack of rights women had back then, and also had in the gang. Being one of the only people in the entire camp not to do crime or working any job that earns her more than just a space in a tent and food on the table, she needs someone else to help her as she has no income. This is most notable when she reluctantly asks Arthur for five dollars because she is literally unable to clothe her son. Those five dollars should be coming from John, the camp does not give more than food (barely, she can several times be heard complaining that Jack is hungry) and shelter, clothing is not included in that, nor is any type of entertainment like fishing equipment or books.

It is also quite clear that Abigail cares for John, deeply, she is constantly checking up on him, telling him to rest, to be careful and take care of himself, while he just shuts her down "being in the sun is good for me, however talking is not so much." There is also when Molly comes to her for advice and Abigail admits to unfortunately relating to Molly and Dutch's relationship, being reliant on a man who does not want you, yet still loving them.

And it isn't just with Abigail, who is sacrifing her own love and feelings to try to give her son a father, that John is neglective, it is also with his son whom he is so absent with that it brought Jack to tears.

Whether or not John actually doesn't believe Jack to be his, it mostly seems like a dodge of responsibilites but to an extreme that it feels like more. John has been with the gang since he was twelve, that is ten years of his life that he had spent with the gang, not a day without them when he suddenly runs off because he has a son? He is willing to give up everything because of a child? While it is a huge responsibility, he has been taught from the day he entered the gang that being together is strength, being alone is weakness.

I doubt it was just the pressure put on him that led him to neglect Jack.

John and Abigail's relationship actually has several parallels to John's own parents, his mother being a prositute and his father being her "well I don't know what he was to her," similarly to how John doesn’t exactly know what he and Abigail are. Some sees them as nothing while others sees them as married.

When it comes to the one parent that John did have left, his father, he likely didn't have much of a good relationship with, telling Jack that he "wasn't missing out on much" when he said he wanted to meet John's pa, who died and left John to fend for himself.

John can also often be heard saying "I don't know much about fathering!" that seemingly being his biggest worry when it comes to his family. Him being afraid of repeating his own father's mistakes doesn't seem like the biggest reach to me, do I think it is the biggest cause? No, I do think it is the big new responsibility, but I do think that fear was laying somewhere underneath it.

I do also think that in late chapter 3/early chapter 4 that while he was trying so hard not to become his father, he had become his father, being negletant and a poor father. That realisation together with the fear of loosing the one family that seemed to stick while the other (the gang) crumbled, could have been what kicked him into action.

John being an overly good father in chapter 4-6 only for him to loose that again in the time between chapter 6 and 1907, I would count as John having tried to overly compensate in 1899 for being a terrible father for all those years, but when everything calmed down he kind of fell back into his poor habits.

Abigail had for years desperately tried to get a regular life, to get a home and a safe place for her family but John keeps ruining it so she leaves (full post on that here). That was once again the kick John needed, suddenly realising he is back in 1899, completely failing his family and being a poor father and husband.

In 1911 the family has had their life for four years, growing their ranch, harvesting, taming and selling horses and other farm animals and they grow close, except for Jack and John. Jack is not at all that close to John, worried about getting close to him because he might leave again. Those times that John thought he was doing the right thing, Jack thought he was being left behind and that is understandable.

John "left" when Abigail was being kidnapped in 1899, he was not there, he kept constantly leaving during the timeskip, always coming home with another mess for them to flee, he was missing when Abigail and Jack left, he was missing when he went hunting for Micah and then he was missing once again when out killing Javier, Bill and Dutch. He was never a reliable person for Jack who constantly had to care for his mom on his own.

Jack was very much kept in the blind about a lot of things, literally asking John if he is a murderer, not completely knowing, so clearly what John did while gone was not something Jack was told. Thus he was left in this constant battle between "trust him, he is here now" and "don't trust him, he will leave soon," leading to a very complicated on and off relationship.

(Tags: @pinescent-and-gingerbread @photo1030 @nescio7 )

[milliesfishes]

so yk how there has been a lot of you or your kid getting kidnapped WHAT IF instead, it was Billy or Coryo that got kidnapped and like you want to go out and hunt down those who would even THINK about taking your man away from you but like maybe you can't because you have your daughter to take care of or you have other responsibilites

just didn't know if anyone has thought of this yet but anyways I LOVE YOU SM MILLIE ❤️❤️❤️ !! KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK!!!

omg I love you!!!!! this is so sweet, please rp with your own thoughts on it if you want to! ౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly is kidnapped౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

He was taken.

Those are the words emerging from the mouth of one of Billy's men, the words you're hearing. But they are some of the last ones you've ever wanted to hear.

You nearly drop the baby perched on your hip, stunned into stiffened pose. The man before you appears nervous, and you thank him for delivering the information before retreating inside the house.

In your husband's line of work, danger lurked around every corner, breathed down the necks of everyone he loved. It revealed itself in the form of men with sneers painted on their lips, in anxieties whispered into your ear late in the throes of the night by your lover. Though he was the picture of a fearless protector, he was scared.

Billy's fear never was directed at himself. No, he only sook to protect you, you and your daughter named for his mother. The arrival Kathleen, Kat as he called her, had only heightened his protective instincts, spurring them into action.

Your home was a location of utmost secret, known only by a select few of his gang when it was absolutely necessary. He guarded you and your daughter under lock and key, determined to keep you hidden from any sign of danger even hinting in your direction.

But he hadn't been attentive enough toward himself. And now your stomach was plummeting as you imagined Billy bound and gagged in a dark location, gun removed from his side, blood spattering his face.

Kat babbled, tugging on a strand of your hair, and you looked down at her again, breaths shallow. She had dark hair just the same as Billy's, winding into stubborn curls. And her eyes... the color of forget-me-nots, just like his.

The one desire at the forefront of your mind was one to mount your horse and ride north, where the man had said your husband was being held. Under Billy's tutelage, you were proficient in gunslinging, and your small size was an advantage in a fight, he'd said.

With the amount of pain and passion you felt right now, taking on an army of a thousand men was child's play. For your love, the father of your child, there was hardly a thing you wouldn't do to see him return home safe. To be nestled in his arms soundly as he assured you that everything was okay.

But as you looked down at Kat, you knew you didn't have a prayer of leaving. Billy wouldn't want you to abandon your daughter to come running after him, no matter how much danger he was in. Having to choose between your husband and your daughter was an impossible road you hoped you would never be forced to venture down again.

For the rest of your waking hours, you did your best to stay distracted, entertaining Kat to the best of your ability and hiding any sign of fear or worry from her bright eyes. No need for you to know her beloved father was twisted in the web of fate once again, in a danger you could hardly imagine.

Putting her to bed, you kissed Kat goodnight, watching her sleepy eyes flutter shut, tiny fist clutching the corner of her favorite blanket. Turning around, you shut the door behind you, hand flying to your mouth as your eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping despite the motion. Stifling the awful sob you wanted to release, your chest tightened and horrifying thoughts played before your eyes in the form of images you prayed would never come to life.

Your Billy was strong and steadfast, and he was more than capable of handling himself. He'd done it all those years before settling down with you after all; gotten himself into life-threatening conundrums and emerging virtually unscathed.

What if this is the one time out of a hundred?

Stumbling to your bedroom, you were helpless once the door was shut, closing your own arms around yourself in an attempt at comfort and dissolving into tears. The way your body shuddered crescendoed into a quiet cry, eluding your attempts to keep quiet as not to disturb Kat. The last thing she needed was a desolate mother.

You had the foolish thought that maybe now that your baby was asleep you could make your way in Billy's direction, but it was quickly reasoned with. What if she woke up and needed you? What if you never came back?

Helplessly, you brought yourself over to the bed, collapsing into the warmth of Billy's side. His scent engulfed you, making it nearly plausible to pretend he was there. Beside you, about to sheath you in his arms and mutter that he'd been wanting to hold you all night.

Minutes disguised themselves as hours, tormenting you with the length of them. Every second was like squeezing honey from a bottle, watching the thick golden drops lazily make their way down the side, in no hurry to appear when you wanted them to.

Surely his gang had infiltrated where he was being held. And now they might be cutting his ropes, tossing him a gun and telling him to hurry on home. It was a childish fantasy. The rope of possibility had tendrils that wove into a thousand different destinies. The chances of everything happening your way were slim to none, and you braced yourself for news that he wasn't ever going to come back.

Any minute now the same bearer of bad news from earlier would return, hat both real and proverbially in his hand as he delivered information you could never be ready to hear. A series of thoughts about life without him revealed themselves, and you tried to push them aside. Sleeping alone beside his empty spot, raising Kat without him, telling her about her brave, kindhearted father whom the world misunderstood-

Loss overwhelmed your being, and you muffled your sobs in his pillow, determined only to cry in the darkness where your daughter's eyes would never find you.

You were unsure of how long it had been when you stopped. It was too dark to see the clock on the bedside, and your emotion had weakened you too much to check, anyways. Face sticky and damp with tears, you pulled the sheet up around your body in a gesture you hoped would be comforting. But the only thing that would truly calm you was tied up in a faraway unknown place.

Lost in the cavern of your discouragement, you allowed the cold, hardened fingers of grief drag you deeper into the depths. Though it was springtime, you knew without him life would be forever winter. The ghost of his memory would trail behind you like a second shadow with every one of your breaths. Kat would be the only thing to stop you from crawling beneath the earth to join him, his grave your new lover's bed.

Senses numbed, you were too long gone to hear the door open. But when warm fingers grazed your skin, you leapt up, whipping your head around and preparing yourself to attack whoever had broken in. There was a knife hidden in the bedside table that you were willing to use.

But the silhouette blurred by the night was familiar. You'd lost track of how many times you felt that touch, whether the intention be domestic or passionate. It was always loving.

Reaching over to the bedside, you fumbled for a match, striking it and holding the flame to the melted candle. Lifting the burning light, features revealed themselves as you moved it upwards. A time-worn gun belt, brown leather suspenders, dotted stubble...eyes bluer than the sky on a summer's day.

Lips parting in shock, you set the candle back down, hands moving of their own accord to cup his face. The prickle of his half-beard scratched at your soft palms, and his warmth exuded outward, drawing you in just as it always had.

"Billy..." you breathed, gasping in disbelief. Your fingers grasped at his face, as if checking to see if he wouldn't crumble under your fingers like some cruel vision.

His roughened hands came to your own cheeks, and your lower lip trembled, his next words a catalyst. "Oh, baby...baby 'm here."

You threw yourself into his arms, instantly surrounded by the warmth and love that could only come from being held like this by him. Home. He was home and this was home. All was right with the world.

"You're alive," you croaked into his chest, the sound and feel of his heartbeat a steady song proving he hadn't departed into the next realm yet. It nearly made you hysterical- the knowledge that Billy had been ripped from you and sewn back at your side within a day.

"I'm here my love," he promised, voice cracking barely as he buried his face in your hair. "I'll always come back to you...'m so sorry..."

"I wanted to come after you." Voice hitching at those words, you shuddered, your body's leftover tension from fear of his absence releasing. He was the one person in this life you could let your guard down with. "I wanted...but Kat..."

"Shh," Billy soothed, sitting down on the bed and keeping you right against him. His body began to rock back and forth, an immediate response to your distress. "You did exactly the right thing, darlin'. My brave girl...havin' to go through all this by yourself..."

"You were the one in danger," you whispered, lifting your head from the comfort of his chest. "And you...did you...?"

"Hush now," he murmured, hand petting over your hair in a way that melted you. "I'm here. I'm safe and I've gotcha again. That's all that matters."

There it was again. The protective streak, the curtain of iron that separated his two worlds. You did not press or ask further questions. Whatever his reasoning, it was likely for the best.

Billy gently positioned you to lie down before reaching below and tugging his boots off, kicking them aside. He stripped himself of his work clothes, and you imagined the state of them. Bloody, likely, dusty most definitely. Tomorrow you would scrub the substance from them and ignore the circumstances, merely happy he had come home.

The haven of his arms was yours once again as he crawled in behind you, kisses pressed to the back of your head as he settled. You knotted your hand with his resting on your stomach, filing the worries of tonight away where they wouldn't disturb you until the next morning.

Tucking his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder, Billy nosed a careful kiss into the space, his quiet last assurances echoing in your mind long after the words escaped his mouth.

"You're safe, my love. I'll keep you safe."

[m4delin]

A Pirate SMP x Traffic Life Series AU

Some worldbuilding:

When someone win, they're rewarded with godhod.

Not in a Watcher way, and in comparison they might be considered minor gods, but they become gods none the less. They're gifted/awarded a country that has always been worshipping that specific winner, and the country is based on where they resided in the game.

When Grian won, his country was the only one existing. But when Scott won, a new country popped up out of nowhere. At least, that's how it looked for Grian. For the humans however, Scott's country has always existed, always worshipped the Star God.

The same goes for every winner. Someone wins, a new country pops into existance that has always existed.

And when a country has just popped in, it tends to have some copies of people from the games, usually the closests allies, as humans.

What about the games tho? The winner doesn't truely play another game after they win, a copy of them is put in their place in the games and when the game is over, they recieves the memories, but not the emotions tied to them, from the copies. That means that the Sun God Grian is not the same Grian Scott knows, and that Star God Scott is not the same Scott that was Pearl's soulmate.

Grian is the Sun God.

Scott is the Star God.

Pearl is the Moon Godess.

Martyn is the Ocean God.

Scar is the Earth God. (not as in the planet, but as in the ground/land)

I have not yet decided for Cleo or Joel.

Story idea:

The story takes place when Martyn has won.

After his time runs out, Martyn get woken up by some pirates on the Faction Isle. He's confused abt what happened and the pirates takes it as if he's a survivor of a shipwreck with some amnesia and that the Ocean God was merciful to him. They take Martyn to the town and help him to settle down.

He is not yet aware of his status as a god.

But when he looks at the statue in the town dedicated to the Ocean God, he gets the feeling that's it's a statue of him, for him even, but he can't put his finger on why. And when he stumbles upon some people he recognize from the games but they don't regognize him? He's very confused, and as time passes he starts to think that maybe the game was just a dream.

Then a ship from the desert folk arrives. It's here to renew their trade contract with the Faction Isle, and they've been blessed with the Sun God even following them on this trip to bless the contract.

Martyn comes eye to eye with Grian. Grian who is obviosuly not human with a pair of giant wings on his back.

Grian pulls Martyn to the side and explains what the hell is going on, and tells him that Martyn need to shoulder his responsibilites soon enough.

A trading contract gets established, and the desert folk leaves. Martyn ignores Grian's advice and pretends to be human for as long as possible.

From here the story can go in several directions, but I'm gonna leave it here.

And a small disclaimer: this was thought up with the ship Majorwood in mind, but it works as well without any shipping as it does with.

[monimccoythings]

Arlong x Healer!human!reader Part 2

Part two of this fic! Arlong as a patient kinda gives me the vibes of that beauty and the beast scene, but Arlong is a bigger asshole, lol. I can't believe I'm still getting ideas, OPLA Arlong got me good, Mckinley Belcher III thanks for your service. This ends on a bit angstier note.

Since what you mentally liked to call 'the incident', your patient was quieter, but no more cooperative. He would only address you with short words or small noises. There still seemed to be an aura of hostility around him, but at least he wasn't trying to actively murder you. Trying to get him to take his painkillers was a constant fight, since he refused any kind of help that came from you.

Arlong wouldn't even allow you to change his bandages. No matter how much you insisted, every attempt was met with low warning growls. No matter how good your arguments were, he always refused you out of pride. You needed to be smarter if you wanted him healthy and out of your life.

"Look." You said, massaging your temples, a migraine incoming. You had to choose your next words carefully because he had a very short temper and had already proved to you that he greatly surpassed you in strength. "You don't want to be here. You want to leave as soon as possible. You can't do that as long as your bandages are dirty, because your wounds won't heal properly. So. If you are THAT eager to get out, please let me use my knowledge to change them. Think of my knowledge as a tool to achieve your goals."

That seemed to do the trick. At least he seemed to be considering it. After seconds that felt like hours he finally agreed. "Fine, do it quick."

Your hands were quick and efficient when removing his dirty bandages, your delicate touch never causing him an ounce of pain or staying longer than needed. Arlong himself looked quite impressed with your work, no human had ever touched him so tenderly and carefully, surprisingly, it was not unpleasant. Why would you do it? Why treat a fishman like himself? Why keep trying to help when all he wanted to do was chew your head off? Humans were really stupid creatures. Still, something about you made you stand out from the other members of your race.

Your fingers cleaned every single wound of his broad chest, only stopping a moment to admire the sun tattoo he had. It was a vibrant color of red. "Quick, human!" Better rush becuase his patience was running thinner by the second.

Finally, the terrible task that had been so dreaded by him was over in like ten minutes. If he hadn't been so insistent in behaving like a baby, it would have been over much sooner. None of you spoke to each other for the rest of the day, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you.

After that fateful encounter, things seemed to get a bit better, albeit not much. You really thought you could really crack his shell, even if just a tiny bit. You even saw him smile a bit at some funny comment you made. You could get used to that.

Then, one day, you woke up and Arlong was gone. You felt a little hurt, not that you would miss his snarky comments and cruel remarks about your species. Still, he had gone without saying goodbye. You didn't even expect a thank you, God knew that not even at gunpoint you would get a thank you from him. He could have said he didn't want to see your disgusting human face again, at least that could have counted as a goodbye.

'What an asshole.' You thought to yourself as you leaned on the railing of the porch of your clinic. Wherever he was now, you could only hope he didn't get beaten as badly as he had been when you found him. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to your duties, there were still tasks to be done and patients to attend. You couldn't let the tiny hole in your chest distract you from your responsibilites.

Unbeknownst to you, Arlong observed you from afar, sitting on a large rock near the cliffs. He couldn't stay longer, he didn't want to stay longer. Those feelings growing in his chest were dangerous and he refused to have them for a human. Humans were monsters, slave holders that destroyed anything that was different ffrom them. Over time, you would prove to be just like the others, a cruel merciless soul that rejected his kind. This ridiculous idea of peaceful coexistence was just a foolish dream, this island would slowly fall apart. Because Humans and Fishmen were not meant to be.

With that last thought, he jumped into the sea, hoping the cold waters would help to erase the memory of you that had deeply engraved itself inside his head.

[aquato-family-circus]

never letting go of my frazies psychic specialty is invisibilty hc so i think she could probably use it for angsty teen reasons of like, running off Not Too Far from the caravan to just be able to sulk in her feelings w/out having to worry abt anyone finding her.

the quiet feeling in the back of her mind that shes kind of jealous raz had the determination to completely run off mixed with the anger and the fear from the fact he did that at all and worried the whole family

frazie has "oh yeah im not depressed or anything i just wish sometimes i could just not have any responsibilites by disappearing but i know thatd worry everyone" energy

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Sun enters Pisces

Monday, February 19 - Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Pisces the Fish*:

Water (emotional and soul - feeling, nurturing, hidden, sensitive)

Yin (security - ingoing, receptive, intuitive, right-brained)

Mutable (adapting to learning - distributing, connecting, adaptable, flexible, scattered)

Transpersonal (universal - focused on ideals and abstractions

“I imagine"

Rulers - Jupiter (traditional), Neptune (modern); exalted - Venus

Colors - blue-greens where you’re never sure if it’s more blue or more green

(* Gleaned almost completely from the book Astrology for Yourself by Bloch and George; the color is my own theory/belief.)

Dreamy season, during which we learn the difference between “going with the flow” and “drifting.” As Neptune nears the end of its travel through Pisces (it begins to transition to Aries next year), we should be more aware of how these “enhanced” Pisces transits have gone - what lessons have we learned? And where do we need to finish up or let go?

Friday, February 23 - Sun/Pisces square Pallas Athene/Sagittarius, 4°26’. Some indecision. Wanting to do the right, noble thing, without knowing how.

Saturday, February 24 - Full Moon, 5°23’ Virgo. We’re still torn about our direction - feelings of guilt only complicate the matters. If we can figure out our real responsibilites, life flows more easily.

Sunday, February 25 - Sun/Pisces sextile Ceres/Capricorn, 6°21’. A practical outlet for all that heavily guilty Full Moon energy. Kind of like the end of Candide, we look toward our own (figurative) gardens.

Wednesday, February 28:

Sun/Pisces conjunct Mercury/Pisces, 9°14’

Sun/Pisces conjunct Saturn/Pisces, 9°46’

This is the Superior Conjunction between Mercury and the Sun, marking the halfway point between the little planet’s retrograde zones. Add Saturn to the mix, and we go into much more conservative ways of thought, possibly/probably more fear-based. That happens when Saturn lets its imagination run away with it - and when the Sun is too passive to resist (or caught up in the drama of it all).

Friday, March 1 - Sun/Pisces sextile Jupiter/Taurus, 11°24’. Generous, sharing what we have. We feel materially blessed. Can get a little too comfortable and complacent.

Sunday, March 3 - Sun/Pisces opposite Juno Rx/Virgo, 13°38’. A nagging partner? Make sure it isn’t you! Make sure everyone agrees about what constructive criticism is.

Saturday, March 9 - Sun/Pisces sextile Uranus/Taurus, 19°51’. A time to bask gently in our uniqueness, at the same time we celebrate our common humanity.

Sunday, March 10 - New Moon, 20°17’ Pisces. Good for setting Pisces-type intentions, such as making time every day for meditation or prayer. We look for (or run screaming from) the spaciousness within.

Saturday, March 16 - Sun/Pisces square Vesta/Gemini, 26°09’. More indecision; if we don’t feel very confident in our identities, this could find us flailing around a bit.

Sunday, March 17 - Sun/Pisces conjunct Neptune/Pisces, 27°21’. “What a day for a daydream,” as the Lovin’ Spoonful sang. Perfect for meditation and prayer (we may not have much choice about it), visualization, and flowing.

[blue-grama]

A good man is hard to find

OK, so this is nonsense, but you know what keeps coming to mind when I watch 4 Minutes? Flannery O'Connor.

For those of you who have not ever been an American high school student, O'Connor was a Southern Gothic writer of fucked-up short stories, and possibly her most fucked-up (and most read) was "A Good Man is Hard to Find." PDF here, for spoilers abound below, and if you haven't read it, it's really worth the 20 minutes, sorry for the mental damage. "A Good Man is Hard to Find" is the story of a family getting meaninglessly annihilated by an escaped convict on a road trip. They're all awful people (parallel #1) -- the kids are horrid brats, the parents are ineffectual, and the grandmother, our protagonist, is manipulative, querulous and nostalgic for a "better past" (It's the American South in the 1950s. The past was not better.) It's a brutal as hell story and there's no hope of escape (parallel #2, quite possibly). In the moments before the grandmother is shot, however, she channels a moment of grace, seeing the deep, almost mystical connections between herself and her killer. (Who, by the way is known as The Misfit, which so fits Tonkla and his isolated existence as Korn's dirty secret.) This grace does nothing to save her, but it there's a sense that it deeply unsettles the killer, who comments, “She would of been a good woman, if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.” (parallel #3, I'm looking at you, Pacharawit "Let me just redo everything as the oxygen runs out in my brain" Sriwatsombat.) Of course, I don't think 4 Minutes actually has anything to do with a 70-year-old story written by an Irish-Catholic from Georgia, other than in my own head and in the sense that every human has to grapple with morality and regret and our responsibilites toward one another. But I am very invested in where the writing of 4 Minutes comes down on morality and redemption. Is this Triage, with its infinite do-overs, or is it "A Good Man Is Hard to Find," where even the deepest of epiphanies can't save you? (And it's all sponsored by Durex... what a world.)

[xirayn]

Sometimes most times I write things that probably won't go anywhere. Here's a Stonathan one since this fandom lives on scraps.

The bittersweet sting of his break up with Nancy lasts through what would have been their first anniversary. Jonathan ignores it, genuinely happy for her when she leaves for Emerson in spite of how it hurts. She has dreams, after all, and the ambition and support to follow them while Jonathan has responsibilites. Except, he doesn't anymore. His mother stopped relying on him now that she has Hopper and Will grew out of needing his big brother to take care of him. The one place he finds some sort of meaning is the open spot Robin left at Steve's side when she went to Indiana University.

"Hey Byers, what's our morning movie?" Steve looks up from sorting returns as Jonathan pulls on his vest. Family Video is not his dream job, but it will do until he figures out something better.

"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," Jonathan answers easily because he thinks about what movies they are going to watch way too much. It is easier to think about than college applications or putting a portfolio together or if photography is even worth getting a degree in. Going into a trade would be more practical. Being a mechanic sounds like a perfectly fufilling way to support himself, including his hobbies.

"I'll see if it's in."

Since it is a Wednesday, they are mostly left to watch movies and talk as they sort and rewind and stock and wait. Jonathan is once again struck by how well Steve listens. He doesn't always understand, but he prompts and engages in a way that encourages the flow of conversation. It makes Jonathan feel seen in a way he hasn't before.

"I'd run away to Bolivia with the Sundance Kid," Steve decides before taking a drink of his soda. He had run out during his break to buy them bagel sandwiches from the deli down the street. Jonathan makes a mental note to vacuum behind the counter later.

"I didn't think Robert Redford was your type."

There have been hints that Steve is attracted to men, off hand comments or appreciative looks. Then there is the flirting.

"It's his eyes." Steve looks at Jonathan with the start of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "They're the type you could fall into and happily drown - Kind of like yours."

Jonathan has no idea how to respond to that. He collects his sandwich and drink instead.

"I'm going to go work through the returns list," he says on his way to the phone in the back office. "Call if you need me."

"Just in the work way, right?"

There is the hint of a smirk in Steve's tone. Jonathan rolls his eyes and tells himself it is just banter. He might get his hopes up otherwise.

[abbatoirablaze]

Matched, Elle, Chapter 5

Word Count:  2.7k

Warnings:  angst, manipulation, coercion, dubcon relationship, mentions of unprotected sex, sex in exchange for benefits, discussion of using children as bartering chips, mentions of past trauma. 

“I’ll come back and check on you later, okay?”

You nodded as Jefferson opened the door to the bedroom and allowed you to pass by him.

“Okay.”

Without another word, the door closed behind you, a clicking noise drawing your attention back to the hardwood. 

Just as was the case with Bobby’s door, you noticed the same keypad below the handle on Charles’ door. 

You frowned, a sinking feeling taking hold of your stomach.  But then something caught your attention.  You felt a breeze from behind yourself. 

Turning, you noticed the door to the bathroom wasn’t all the way closed, steam pushing out from the sides of the door while the shower ran, Charles’ melodic whistling a low hum in your ears.

But that wasn’t where the draft was coming from. 

Your heart leapt into your throat as you saw a balcony, the French doors wide open and allowing not only the sunlight in, but the crisp spring air. Along with Charles’ whistling, you could hear the faintest chirping of birds outside.

Taking a few steps forward into the room, your heart lurched even more into your throat.  You could practically feel it pulsating and making your ears buzz.  Your eyes watered at the thought of freedom.

Your heart ached against the walls of your chest as the thought of bounding through the room and out onto the balcony, then somehow getting down to the main floor, before running into the woods and disappearing all over again; ignoring all of your responsibilites to the match, and the small relationships that you’d begun to form with the new men in your life.

And then your hand went to your neck.

The already constant reminder that even if you did manage to make it, the men would be one step behind you, and able to track your every move.  Freedom was a construct that you no longer got to fantasize about, because you knew that no matter what, so long as you had the collar around your neck, you would always have them with you.

And you couldn’t go to someone to remove the collar. 

Not without them trying to capture you for themselves and trying to put you in a prostitution ring. 

“That’s not a good idea, you know!”

You nearly jumped out of your own skin at the sound of the voice behind you. 

When had you walked through the room? 

Your eyes trailed along the ornately decorated room and your body turned, until you saw Charles standing in the entryway of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. 

Immediately, your eyes were scanning his body. 

He was a little shorter than Bobby, yes, and while he seemed less imposing than your delta, Charles’ body was sculpted in a way you couldn’t have imagined.  His tanned skin looked like it was stretched taut over marble; your eyes following a few drops that had slipped down his stomach and along his v-line.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous,” he grinned, his smile making you think of a Cheshire cat.  You frowned and he pouted, “oh come on now, darling...don’t be a prude.  You were practically eye-fucking me a second ago.  You know, if you want to see the rest, all you have to do is ask.  We could even say that the towel slipped if you want to protect your modesty that much.”

“I-I was not-I have-I was just, deep in th-“

“Thoughts of riding me?” he teased playfully as he suggestively ran his hands over his hips.  You found your eyes following his strong, firm hands.  Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest for a whole new reason.  He cleared his throat and you nearly jumped out of your skin again

“You’re an ass.”

He shrugged, chuckling, “maybe.  But there is a connection between us.  You can’t deny that.  I know what you’re thinking about.  I can see it in those sneaky eyes of yours.  You want to know what’s under my towel...you wanna feel the power behind me...want to know how much I can make you purr...”

Your frown deepened, “I don’t even know you.”

“That’s why our gracious delta let me have you first,” he grinned, “he wants our pack dynamics to be great.  He doesn’t want you running again...which is why leaping from my balcony is a bad idea, Elle.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that!”

“No?” he asked in an accusing tone, “then tell me, sweetheart...what were you thinking as you mindlessly walked across the room and towards the open French doors?  Because I know for a fact that you didn’t notice me watching you from the bathroom door.  Those eyes were glassy with thoughts of running off and disappearing into the forest...I saw it.”  

Shit.

He was calling you out on it.

“So, what if I was thinking about it?” you questioned quickly in response, knowing that it was fruitless to lie, especially if he really had watched you, “I didn’t actually do it!”

“Because you’re smart enough to remember your collar,” he pointed out, gesturing to your neck as he made his way towards the bed, “you know that we wouldn’t be far behind you.  And you wouldn’t be able to get it removed.  You know that there really would be no escaping us.  And I trust that you’re smart enough, albeit a little wild, to know that if Lloyd had to come after you yet again, he wouldn’t be nearly as cordial as he has been.”  

“If I’m smart enough to remember my place then why do I need a collar?” you asked, “if you  and Lloyd, and Bobby, and-“

“Don’t get it twisted, gorgeous.  I like you...but I don’t trust you either,” he chuckled, cutting you off, “as much as I love the idea that our match is finally with us...if you jumped out my balcony window and bolted, I would be in deep shit, because I’m not the type to go chasing after anything.  Johnny hates me.  Lloyd and Bobby tolerate me, but Jefferson...he would never forgive me.  Not if I let you go...And I’m not looking to upset him again...not after you abandoned us the first time.”

The little dig at how you abandoned them hurt. But it wasn’t untrue. But you also knew that you couldn’t give up on your argument. You really didn’t want to wear the collar and you figured that there had to be something that he could do about it.

“It couldn’t possibly go with whatever it is that you bought and are having sent over for me,” you argued, trying to change your reasoning, “I mean...this thing is god awful ugly...and I know that you know that.”

“I suppose that I’ll have to come to that bridge when we get there, won’t I?” he teased, “perhaps I have already ordered ones that go with your outfits more...and look more like jewelery instead of an actual collar.  No one would ever be able to tell the difference if we took you to an important event on our arm.”

“So, you can change it?”

“It can be changed...but it’s up to Lloyd when it comes to removing it permanently.”

You felt your stomach turning.

By the way he was wording things, it almost felt like he had the authority to make your trap look a little more inconspicuous.  At the very least, you wouldn’t look like a runaway inlet pleasure house girl. 

“So, if I’m good...” you offered, leaving the question open ended as you started towards him, “that means...what exactly?”

“We want to take care of you, Elle,” he promised thoughtfully as he laid back on his bed, “but you have to take care of us too.”

“Ohhh, fuck that was good, gorgeous,” he smiled, pulling you to his side.  You allowed him to tuck you into his side while your breathing evened out, not daring to fight against him.  You felt his lips on your temple and he sighed, “that was even better than I thought it was going to be.  Shit...maybe those tests have some merit to them...that was god-damned incredible, Elle...”

“Yeah...”

“You sound tired, Elle,” he sighed lazily, kissing your temple again, “get some rest, gorgeous...after we wake up, we can take a shower and clean each other up...and maybe get dirty again...then we’ll get you dressed...and I can take you on a tour of the property...”

“And we can change this collar?” you asked hopefully, your eyes trailing up to his, “or maybe...we leave it off entirely?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “is that what this was about?  You thought if you fucked me good enough you’d be able to keep it off?”

“I-“

“Didn’t I tell you that leaving the collar off would be Lloyd’s decision?”

“But...but...”

“But what, honey?  You thought that I would convince Lloyd to take it off you when he gets home because we had great sex?”

“I-I did things with you.  Y-you should trust me.  I-”

“Because we fucked?” he asked firmly, filling in the blanks.  You were silent and he shook his head, “you letting me fill that sweet little kitty once doesn’t mean I’m going to tell Lloyd that I trust you, Elle...and he sure as shit won’t take your collar off this soon to getting you.  Like I said, the sex was great, but-”

“Wh-what do you mean?” you asked, “I thought you could change it!”

“The one that has the key to your collar is our alpha,” he said firmly, “and when he’s not here, it goes to the delta...and while this was fun...if you were hoping that you’d escape the collar by letting me nut in you...you were sadly mistaken.”

You pushed yourself away from him, “are you kidding me?”

Your stomach turned at the way he was smiling at you.

“Oh, come on.  Don’t act like that...I know that you enjoyed it just as much as I did.  We both felt the way that your tight little kitty strangled my cock.  We can still be friendly, like this, Elle...just because I can’t take off your collar doesn’t mean we can’t have fun anymore, does it?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you growled, “stop smiling at me like that!  Why would you think that it’s okay to trick me?  Wh-“

“Oh, you mean like how you thought you were being sneaky by seducing me?” he asked, cutting you off, “because if you want to talk about how someone can be sneaky in order to get what they want, take a look in the mirror, gorgeous.  You just let me cum in you because you have this high hope of getting the collar off without putting in the work.  It takes more than just letting us get our dicks wet, Elle.  Despite what the others would like to think of me, this match means just as much to me as it does to them.”

“Y-you’re a monster!”

He scoffed, “no more than you are, Elle.  Let me remind you of our current predicament.  We are here, because of you.  Because nine years ago, you decided to waste our time and abandon us.  Do you know what it’s like when we get told that we have a match?  The man’s perspective?  The pride that each of us felt when we heard that our perfect woman was out there, waiting for us?  But we couldn’t act because you weren’t eighteen yet?  You were seventeen when you found out about us.  Lloyd was 27.  Bobby was 24.  Jefferson was 21.  Johnny was 20, and I was freshly 18.  While I didn’t have to wait long, the others did.  And when they brought us all together, when we met and talked about our pack dynamics.  We were beyond excited, only to find out that we were being split up because you abandoned us...we all felt rejected, Elle.  If I’m a monster, it’s only because it’s what you made me when you took the coward’s way out.  It’s what the pack they put me into after you changed me into...”

You went to open your mouth, but nothing came out.

Sure, Bobby had mentioned briefly the other men’s stories, and he’d told you about his own, but you hadn’t really considered it wholeheartedly...what it must have been like for the other men.

“We waited for you...held out hope that you would come back to your senses and come for us, but you never did,” he hissed, glaring at you, “you made Lloyd’s trust issues worse.  You forced Bobby to disassociate from us because his duties were to his new pack...you made Johnny even more of a man-whore...and Jeff-you fucking broke my Jefferson when you left us.  I don’t give a damn about anyone else in this family unit...but him...he was ready to give you everything and then some...you took our future for nine years while you did god knows what, Elle...so I’m just taking back what I rightfully deserve...what I should have had nine years ago.”

The anxiety rose in your chest as he pulled you back to him.

It felt like you were about to have a panic attack as he flipped you around and wrapped his arms around you, tucking his head into the back of your neck and forced you to look in the mirror.  You felt like every bit a monster as he said you were.

You had done things while you were running that you weren’t proud of.

You had given yourself to men from time to time as a way of bartering safety. 

You had killed off parts of yourself to survive out in the wilderness of the country. 

But what you hadn’t realized is that you killed off parts of your matches as well, because you had been too afraid of your future.

“We’re going to love you, Elle...” he said firmly, “and if it took a little tricking you to get the process started, I’m willing to do it.  And don’t get all high and mighty and upset with me, because you were ready to do the same exact thing to get the collar off and disappear again...but I’m not going to let that happen.  I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t get the collar off until I know you aren’t going to run away from us.”

Your heart was beating so heavily you could feel your pulse shaking your very body, “Wh-what are you going to do to me, Charles?”

“I’m going to be the best god damned sigma any pack’s ever seen,” he said firmly, kissing your shoulder blades, “we’re going to have a baby....and I’m going to go above and beyond my duties as a sigma...just like I know Jefferson would be the ultimate father figure with his omega skillsets...and the others will fall in line, especially once you give them children too.”

“And what if I don’t want that?” you asked softly, your voice feeling like it was miles away from your body. 

You felt his hand gently stroking your stomach, his fingertips continuously drawing little patterns on your skin, “you owe us this and more, Elle...we won’t force you to do anything...but you can’t force us not to try to win you over...”

“You can’t win me over by lording a collar over my head.”

“Soon enough it won’t be a collar,” he promised, his fingertips ceasing their movements as his hand rested on your stomach, “like I said, soon it will be babies...we won’t need the collar when each of us has been given a baby from you...I’ve read your profile, Elle...I know how much leaving your siblings behind hurt you...how much Declan’s death affected you when you found out about him during your intake.  When your sister visited you and saw them sedating you because you were nearly feral.  You wouldn’t be able to leave our children even if they are part of us, because they would be part of you as well.  You already saw the effects of what you did in breaking your own family to pieces.  You won’t do that to ours.”

“I-I don’t-“

“Shhhhh,” he cooed softly, cutting you off as he began to kiss up your neck while his fingers moved back down to cup your core, “don’t fight it, Elle...let us love you.”

“I-“

“I’ll be the best father to our babies,” he promised gently, cutting you off once more, “you’ll see, gorgeous...our children will want for nothing in their lives.  And when you see how happy they are, you’ll never want to leave us...you might even fall in love with us...hell, maybe once you’ve given each of us a child, you’ll want more then.”

And as a new fear coursed through your veins, all you could do was stare at your reflection in the mirror, as your sigma held your naked form against his and drew little shapes against your stomach.

Chapter 6

[lynxsai]

Rewatching Fairy Tail and I love Wendy so much ;;;;;

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Nanami Kento, angst/comfort, “we will burn those bridges when we get there”

Thank you!

I had to fist fight my demons to keep this an angst/comfort and not an angst/comfort/angst, just fyi. I do it all for you, Dear Reader.

Now Presenting...

Starring: a sick of it all Nanami Kento

The gin burned in your chest as it flowed from the bottle to your stomach. You wanted to gag, but managed to force it down with a grimace. You looked up at the stars, glittering bright in the sky above you from where you sat in the garden. You had read somewhere that all the stars you saw in the night sky had died like, a million years ago or something, and that the light you saw was because of how far away they were or-something. You weren’t an astronomer, but, you did know you felt pretty jealous of all those dead lights at that moment.

“Hey,” Nanami startled you out of your head long enough to look at him, “I thought I’d find you here.” He said, going and sitting next to you. You let out a humorless huff trying to masquerade as a laugh.

“Am I really that predictable?” You asked. He thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“The gin was a surprise, I kinda expected vodka to be honest.”

“This was just the first thing I found in the liquor cabinet.” You confessed.

“Ah.” Kento nodded in understanding, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes  and lighting a smoke. You watched the way the smoke danced from his lungs into the sky, swirling around itself and the dead stars. There was a metaphor there somewhere. 

“I heard what happened,” Nanami cut through the silence again, “I’m sorry for your loss.” You looked away from the smoke and down to the ground. The grief of losing your best friend hadn’t settled in yet, instead denial and shock taking it’s place. You dreaded the moment the reality set in.

“It’s fine, I guess,” You lied, “They were a sorcerer. We kinda know the deal when we sign up for this job.”

“Do we though?” Kento questioned, turning his head to look at you. You let out another huff.

“Yea, not really. They tell us they do everything in their power to limit as many fatalities as possible-”

“Then send a second grade sorcerer after a special grade curse.” Kento spoke from experience. You nodded, finally finding it in you to look at him.

“Yea. I just…Did you ever feel like you had a choice?” You asked, tears welling in your eyes again.

“No, not really.” He admitted with a shrug, “I felt like the moment my technique manifested everyone decided this was what I was going to do, regardless of what I wanted.” You knew that feeling all to well. You thought most sorcerers did. You knew your friend did. 

“It’s not fair,” You stated the obvious, “They treat us as disposable, as if were all fucking Satoru, invincible.” You spat, feeling the anger building up inside your chest again, looking for someone to light the fuse.

“And then they bitch about not having enough sorcerers after sending them all to die.” Nanami struck the match. You jumped to your feet with a groan, unable to sit still for any longer. 

“Yea, exactly! And like, look I’m not saying I agree with Suguru, but he’s right about how society treats sorcerers! Like we only exist for them like were not our own people with our own hopes and dreams-!”

“Please tell me you’re not planning a eugenics fueled mass murder.” Nanami demanded rather than asked, looking at you with sharp, concerned eyes.

“No, not at all,” You assured him, watching the tension visibly leave his shoulders as you said so, “I just…I don’t know. I want to run away.” You confessed.

“So then why not do it?” Kento asked, taking a drag off his cigarette, “I want to leave too,” He revealed, “And we could do it. There’s nothing stopping us from doing it.” Honestly, you didn’t expect that from Nanami. If anything. You expected him to try and convince you to stay, to fulfill your duties as a sorcerer. You liked that he still managed to surprise you. 

“Because we can’t just leave,” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Why not?”

“We have responsibilities here. What about the elders? They’d never forgive us.” Nanami shrugged at your concerns.

“We’ll burn those bridges when we get there. Honestly, I’m not too keen on letting a bunch of people that referred to World War One as “The Great War” dictating my every move for the rest of my life.” a very sudden and very heavy realization hit you at that moment.

“wait…You’re serious, aren’t you?” You asked. He looked up at you from where he sat and nodded.

“Yea. I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t,” He chuckled a bit, “ There’s nothing tangible keeping us here.”

“Where would we even go?”

“I got two tickets to Malaysia.” He offered. 

“Wait, like, right now?! Ready to go?!” You scoffed, your brain struggling to keep up in the pool of gin.

“I bought them on impulse about a week ago. They were cheap and I thought it was a two way flight. It wasn’t, but, I kinda assumed that was fate. I’ve been meaning to ask you, I just…I couldn’t fine the right time I guess.” Not that now was the right time, but, it was a time.

“When does the flight leave?’ You asked.

“Two days. Think that’s enough time to get your affairs in order?” You thought for a long time about what Kento was offering, the real gravity of what it would entail. You would never be able to return to Jujutsu Sorcery again.

“Yea. Two days is more than enough.”

[timkonshipper]

random ash 101

ash won a league pretty early on in his journey, kinda sucks its not that big of a deal tho. so what if it was? just the beginning of a random au where being the orange island champion comes with more responsibilites and recognition. if anyone feels inspire to continue, please do!

He won. 

Dragonite had put up a great fight, but in the end, his buddy had triumphed. 

Drake had looked shocked at first. But the look soon turned into one of pride and amazement. He recalled dragonite and approached Ash. 

“Congratulations Ash! If you follow me, you’ll find that we have a lot to discuss.”

Waving to his friends, he said “Go on guys, I’ll catch up with you later.”

He waited until Pikachu had hopped onto his shoulder before beginning to follow the supreme leader of the orange archipelago. 

Drake led him into his office where he took his seat behind the desk and gestured for Ash to sit on the one in front of it. 

The atmosphere felt so serious that Ash was filled with an overwhelming need to break it. “So what’s up, this seems very ominous if you know what I mean. He.” Pikachu added in an agreeable “pika”.

Drake chuckled before saying “Oh don’t worry. I’ve been told that I can be a little dramatic at times. Again, congratulations on your win. You could probably tell I was shocked earlier.”

“Yeah, I could see that, but how come? Tracey told me a bunch of trainers beat the challenge every year.”

“Yes, but you see Ash, we are considered the oldest league in existence. It's been around for almost 300 years. That's why this league might have seemed a bit different from the other leagues that you know. As an effort to integrate it with the other leagues, we joined the international league union a few years back. So, we increased the difficulty level by quite a lot as well.”

Taking a sip of water from the bottle on his desk, he continued “This is why no one has been able to complete the league recently. That is, except you. The rest of the crew and I agreed that whoever was the first to defeat all of us would become the next archipelago champion. So ash, do you accept the position?”

Ash was shocked speechless. Him a champion? Wow. Pikachu was in a similar daze. He had just won his best friend a championship. Remembering that Drake had asked him a question, he shook himself out of his stupor and answered with a wide grin on his face “What and all does being the champion entail exactly?”

“You keep surprising me Ash. It's nice to know that you want to know what exactly you would be responsible for instead of just agreeing right off the bat.  Answering your question, I suppose you would help in the day to day running of the archipelago and representing us internationally. I will still handle the other trainers as the supreme gym leader, but if they manage to defeat me, then you must battle them to defend your champion title. It also would be a big help if you assisted me with the paperwork. Arceus knows why there’s so much for a place so small. Like all the other champions, you’d always receive a monthly salary”

“It sounds like a big responsibility, but I’d be down for all of that. I accept the position Drake!”

“Great, now if you and Pikachu could follow me to the victory hall, I’ll record you as the new champion.”

“You hear that buddy? We’re champions now!” Ash told his starter enthusiastically. Pikachu replied in a similar fashion with a happy “Pikaa pikachu”

“Oh and before I forget, here’s an official league phone for you. It has all the basic necessities and works as any other phone does. There’s also a messaging app in there with a group chat for all the champions. I’ll alert them soon about you. When you get back to the pokemon centre, just introduce yourself in the chat, alright?”

“Woah. The other champions are all in the chat? And I’m gonna join as well? So cool!” Ash practically had stars in his eyes.”

‘Ah, the joy of being young’ thought Drake. 

**

Only after the shock had worn off did the exhaustion set in. By the time they had made it back to the pokemon centre, all he could do was faceplant onto his bed and sleep. Pikachu was the same case. 

The sunlight seeping in through the window woke him up. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on the wall only to startle awake when he realised it was already 1. His stomach rumbled soon after. He quickly put on some actual clothes and scooped Pikachu up. 

Making his way down to the lobby, he quickly spotted Misty and Tracey by the window. He made his way over to them. Tracey spotted him before Misty did, waving him over with a “Ash, good to see you're awake. When you came in last night you muttered what I can’t even guess it was before flopping over and sleeping like a log. I thought it was better if I didn’t wake you.”

Ash sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and replied “Heh yeah. I suppose we were way more tired than we realised.”

Misty fondly shook her head. A curious expression appeared on her face. “Hey Ash, what did Drake talk with you about?”

“Oh man. It was so awesome. Guess what? I’m the new orange island champion now! Apparently they made the challenge harder in recent years so they could integrate the league with the international circuit. I’m the first person who beat Drake after the change was made, so there you have it.”

“Huh, who would’ve thought? Brock’d love to hear this. However it was Pikachu who did all the work of course, didn’t you!” Misty exclaimed. She grabbed pikachu from Ash and smothered him with praise and cuddles.

Both Ash and Tracey sweatdropped, the latter shook it off before saying “That's awesome Ash. It's kinda cool to think that you’re a champion now. And of my home region to boot.”

“Thanks Tracey! It was a big shock at first but now I’m just so psyched. Oh before I forget, Drake said to send a message to the champions chat last night. Obviously I slept before I could do that.”

“The champions? As in all the other champions. Wow that's so cool! What do you think they’re like?”

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out,” replied Ash. 

Misty stopped pampering Pikachu before sounding out a quick “Just don’t say something stupid.”

Ash ignored her before clicking onto the chatroom with Tracey looking over his shoulder. 217 notifications huh. Looks like he’d have a lot of scrolling to do. 

Champions showdown.

LostInTheWoods: Yay we’re getting a new champion! And one so close to my age. It's been boring with only you seniors to talk to. 

Tweety: Calm down pipsqueak, don’t bombard him when he gets here. 

LostInTheWoods: SpEakIng of, when’s he gonna get here?

SugarYay: Sweetie, did you not listen to anything Drake said right after he announced the new champ?

LostInTheWoods: Hehe, maybe?

[wheneclipsefalls]

Can we know a little more of Tamil and Pulo?

Yes of course! I love answering questions, especially ones about some of my original characters. I'm not sure what exactly you want to know but here is some random tid bits about them.

Tamil, Pulo, and Kxolo have been friends since childhood. When they were younger they were known for causing a lot of mischief (unfortunate for Kxolo who had a harsh father that was constantly putting him back into line, reminding him that he is future Olo'eyktan). They've stayed close and developed a friendship with Epok over the years.

Both Tamil and Pulo serve high rankings in the clan, each acting as unofficials second in commands to Kxolo, however they have different strengths. Pulo is known for his ability to motivate and rally troops, captivating an audience with his motivational speeches and screeching war cries. He has done more than his fair share of leading groups of warriors into battles when needed, although their clan has only had the very ocassional disturbance from the Sky People. Tamil's strengths too are related to combat, being known for his stealth and efficency in the heat of battle, but this is a side of himself he prefers not to share unless necessary. He prefers to involve himself instead with the day to day negotiations and preparations required to keep the village running smoothly. He is the first man Kxolo wants by his side when discussing matters with other clans. Although, not a usually talkative male, Tamil has a calming presence and ability to craft sentences carefully that can put others at ease.

Tamil is a gentle and sensitive alpha. He only sheds blood when necessary, a thought that crosses his mind more often now that he has a mate and daughter to worry about. His daughter is only a few months old and her name is Vili. As a first time father he constantly worries that he is not doing things properly. He spent more than his fair share of time listening to the women in his life, in search of every tid bit that would help him. His mate had to reassure him over and over that Eywa would guide him when the time would come but that doesn't stop him from doing everything in his power to prepare for the small angel. Now, he makes sure to balance his responsibilites and social life with his home life. He is not afraid to sneak away from the circle of his friends at the sight of his gorgeous mate holding that energetic bundle of joy. Tamil isn't quiet out of shyness, but rather he knows how to determine which things are worth saying. All of that goes out the window though if his daughter is brought up. He bosts about every milestone that his little Vili has accomplished in the few months, showing off each songchord bead to aid his stories.

Pulo and his mate have been married for almost a year now and their relationship is very much so fire meets fire. She pushes him in a way that no one else can, finally finding ways to get under his skin. They grew up together, training in the same groups. He considers himself someone with thick skin. People can tease and poke at him all day long, but it does nothing to shatter his confidence. However, Resaal was known to flare his temper to new extremes throughout their adolescence. Her ability to achieve every warrior milestone better and sooner than him was a great sore spot while growing up. He can still remember the cocky wink she sent him after surfacing back on her new ikran after he had failed his iknamaya. His temper would simmer to a boil while she would simply send him coy smiles and prance along the village with the grace of an etherial being. It took him getting over his own adolescent pride and stubborn feuds to finally admit his feelings for her. Although, the entire village saw it coming, especially Kxolo who teased him about it constantly. Now they are considered the ultimate power couple, training and strategizing together. Most of their sparring ends in sensual love making, no matter the scene. Now, she is currenly on an expedition to the south, protecting a group of Na'vi that are harvesting special herbs collected yearly for invaluable medicines. He misses her greatly, but his best distraction is interacting with his friends and focusing on work.

Both males are ecstatic to finally see their friend that has suffered through so much, find happiness.

Let me know if you have any specific questions, but hopefully this gives a little more insight.

[istherewifiinhell]

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i guess if i were to name the shape the of the beast. to really. analyse the pains (to what end? we can ask exhaustedly. and the answer is none ever. but the mind does what it wants)

said. my dead cat i claim is not my cat and then say forever is my dead cat. well. he wasnt mine to maintain. or care for or any of that. i had no responsiblities to him. and i did feel like. he had a kind of fondness for me. perhaps just that i ate the most foods he would always be after (dairy and eggs). or love blankets and am always cold. or just all the times id bribe him with treats to be close. he was just my buddy.... i didnt have to feed him, he wouldnt even be annoying about it.

he would just come crowd my lap whenever i would even IMPLIE i was gonna be doing something where he could be in my way. and then when i decided to try taking him to my room... hed come running with me to the door. id scoop him up around whatever id had in hand. id go do something there and hed bother me. most recently of all id leave the door open a crack when going to the bathroom. and then return to a little fluffy ball on my bed.

he wasnt my cat my pet. he was my cat. like my little buddy. he was quiet mornings with tea. and sunny afternoons and sewing. id love to have his fur over all my shit again.

but beast. oh my poor lovely beast. listen. im not getting into all that. the why the fucks and the how the fucks i had a 95lb dog. never shoulda really. but yeah. responsibilites. ones i was bad at. a real distinct. from physical to mental to sort. Social Fortitude reasons. just. i guess you could tell something was real wrong when he hated the walks more than i did.

so i dont gotta problem solve how the fuck i can excercise him around my own fucking problems anymore. around the problems of this shitty place too. i wish i did. i do wish i did. i guess.

its so fucking awful. thinking. i think in my mind just how rough it had been doing stuff with him. and the other things i can think of him doing is just standing and sitting and laying in a old man huff. and no i didnt really ever mind that he was a touchy freak. if he wanted to knock on my door (and he did knock) just to lay like a potato on the ground. find my me

but he did also used to do more than than that too. it. i dont know how it is. remembering that. its like. its like. laughing. cause i love him. and that he played with the cat. and in the dry dusty dirt until he was light brown. hed even sometimes get in your space just to be there. if u could stay still for it. he even once slept next to me for a whole night during a powerout. which was much appreciated.

and its. its remembering the difference. its hell. its the pictures from 2019. we both looked so happy. in a place i like. in a place i would just go. to be somewhere. and wed go down there. and march along and run along and think and look and enjoy it. and im not there. and hes not there. ive still got the shirt. and the sunglasses. but what the fuck am i gonna look up and smile so big at.