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#green Oak
rankakiu · 2 days ago
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Hello, people of Tumblr! As I promised it in the previous post, I share with you the screenshots of the first (or second, I don't know XD) Pokémon battle of Chloé against Astruc. A very fair duel, if you asked me XD
In case you asked, yes, the female Pikachu has that name in honor of Sabrina Raincomprix, the redhead friend of Chloé, in Miraculous Ladybug.
I hope soon, I bring to you people, more Pokémon battles!
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alolax · 2 days ago
Dexholder Hogwarts House Headcannon’s Pt.1
Includes -
Red - Gen 1
Green - Gen 1
Blue - Gen 1
Yellow - Gen 1
- Red is most likely a Gryffindor 
- He’s usually the first to jump in when someones in danger
- Brave as heck
- Wouldn’t hesitate to bitch slap Voldemort himself
- He’s also supper confident whenever doing a spell
- Green is a Ravenclaw
- He’s one of the smartest Dexholder’s by far
- Really good at making tactical attack plans
- Green is one of the wittiest people you will ever met in your life
- Overall just a person who can make great plans under pressure
- Blue is a Slytherin
- Her ambition in helping Silver was enough for me to put her here
- She also is very resourceful (she made the silph scope)
- A very cunning person who has tricked many to get what she wants
- Master thief 
- Yellow is obviously a Hufflepuff
- She’s a hard working person, that much can be proven in the Yellow Chapters
- The girl is also really loyal
- I could totally see her helping everyone out with whatever they need, let it be homework or help performing a spell
- Yellow would also be the type to not fight someone unless they had an equal advantage
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novatie · 3 days ago
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hesitant posting this because of the certain Energy i gave it since i just made this while needing to do something with my hands
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txtniipped · 5 days ago
time, ever moving
pokemon (gameverse) -- green oak/reader
(1892 words)
ao3 version
What snapped Green out of his funk was some cocky brat from Johto. His name was Gold, you learned, when Green complained to you at some banquet. He spoke about Gold bugging him at Cinnabar, about how the kid wanted to fight him right there, on top of all the ash and cinders. You had smiled wryly at him, and had told him, “I bet you would have if you were still twelve.”
Green snorted in response, lifting his glass of champagne to his lips as he spoke. “Good thing I’m not twelve anymore then.”
You’re not sure when your relationship with Green Oak changed.
When you were kids, he was a menace. You were no better, but it was always Green getting the two of you in trouble. Between rushing through the tall grass Pokemon-less, exploring nearby caves with “borrowed” equipment from Professor Oak’s lab, or dumb dares down at the coast south of Pallet, the blame would befall both of you, despite all of the instigating being Green’s doing.
Even during your journey, most of your trouble—when not dealing with an interregional crime syndicate—came from the one and only Green Oak.
Roadblock of the century, Green Oak was always waiting for you. Town after town, route after route, you found him flaunting his progress, forcing you to pause in your own as he challenged you. Given, you’d always win, and Green always gave you some piece of advice or a tip you genuinely didn’t know after, but it was still a momentum breaker; another bullet point on your list of annoying habits of one Green Oak.
Squaring up against him at the final point in your journey, however, was much more fitting than fighting Champion Lance.
Green was devastated when he lost, despite the front he put on for you. There was no name for the way he left after his grandfather came into the room other than retreating, and if Professor Oak hadn’t corralled you towards the Hall of Fame, you would have run after your rival.
Champion duties took over from there, and though you were a kid, you were swamped with work. Between interviews and tv appearances, photoshoots and League meetings (the last one, you’re sure, was the only true duty you had. The other stuff was most likely Lance fishing for funds for the League—two child prodigies claiming the title of Champion within a few months of beginning their journeys was honestly quite the cash cow), you rarely saw Green.
You found out later—sometime after most of the euphoria had died down—that Lance had hired Green as the new Viridian Gym Leader.
As Champion, you had the final signature on the paperwork to make it official. When Lance presented it to you, you almost thought it was a joke. Green Oak, willingly working with the League? With you?
He’d gone radio silent the moment he left the Plateau after you won the Champion battle. You only learned from Daisy after you nearly knocked a hole in the Oak residence’s door that Green left for Sevii Islands— that he’d been gone for weeks now, I thought he let you know?—and when he got back, he had ignored you. You! Rivals, best friends, whatever, he hadn’t said a word, and now—now?!
You signed off on it, of course. Your beef with Green was yours, not the League’s, and with how desperate you knew Lance was on filling the empty hole where Giovanni once stood, you weren’t going to be petty about this.
It turned out that Green was actually an excellent pick for a gym leader. You knew he would be—duh, he was Green Oak—, but you were proud of him anyway.
Viridian perked up nicely with a new gym leader at the helm—the influx of new trainers in Kanto the season Green stepped into his position nearly rivaled the season following the Champion battle between the two of you the year before. It was a testimony to Green’s fame, as well as another boost in profits for the League, which always made for a happy Lance.
Your rival had a way of elegantly beating aspiring trainers into the ground. Sometimes, it was the breaking point for journeys, and others, it drove home just how determined they really had to be to continue. The average rate of Earth Badges actually being given out per season dropped with Green as the Viridian Gym Leader when compared to Giovanni, but Lance had agreed with you—Green was every bit the better gym leader.
Until, at least, he seemed to get bored.
Viridian Gym fell to the wayside some time during Green’s second year of running it. Your rival had openly complained about paperwork, about guest lectures and special appearances, about the banquets and meetings and get-togethers whenever someone would spare him a second on the topic. It wasn’t a surprise to see Lance pulling Green away at all those gatherings to scold him, and you weren’t surprised by the way Green would always let it roll off his back either. 
Green Oak operates by no one’s rules but his own when he can get away with it, and if the worst repercussion Green was going to face was Lance being disappointed with him, you knew nothing would change.
What snapped Green out of his funk was some cocky brat from Johto. His name was Gold, you learned, when Green complained to you at some banquet. He spoke about Gold bugging him at Cinnabar, about how the kid wanted to fight him right there, on top of all the ash and cinders. You had smiled wryly at him, and had told him, “I bet you would have if you were still twelve.” 
Green snorted in response, lifting his glass of champagne to his lips as he spoke. “Good thing I’m not twelve anymore then.”
Gold tore through Green’s gym when he finally arrived, about a month later. 
You heard about it from your mother first, who apparently had been keeping up with Gold’s journey after the boy came through Pallet and charmed the little town with his familiar and nostalgic ambition. Your immediate thought upon hearing the news was how Green would want a rematch without the League rules he was required to follow as a gym leader weighing him down. When you saw Green the following morning, he voiced that exact sentiment to you. You laughed at his predictability.
Shortly after Gold had bested you a few weeks later, Green stepped down from Viridian Gym. He had an internship in Kalos under Professor Sycamore, as well as a scholarship to some college there for evolution sciences. Apparently, he spoke enough Kalosian to get by, and hearing him speak it to some lab assistant over the phone while dining at a cafe with him rattled your brain. 
Green kicked your shin under the table, and, belatedly, you realized you had been staring. Cheeks rosy, you settled on staring at your drink instead.
League meetings were insanely boring without Green there to take your mind off them after he left. Gold had won the title of Kanto Champion, yes, but he had already besieged the Johto title, and held the responsibilities that came with it. He had stepped down from any sort of toe-in-the-water as far as Kanto went, and thus, Lance had kept you around. Besides, after a rematch a month later, you had beaten Gold anyway. The two of you were on pretty even footing.
These meetings though—they were boring. Green somehow never paid attention and yet always could summarize them for you afterwards. Now, with him halfway across the world, you had to struggle to keep your eyes open alone under Lance’s droning voice. At least you could find comfort in Erika, who always fell asleep at some point in these meetings without fail.
Unova was where you saw Green next. The Champions Tournament was an event entirely too flashy for your tastes, but you could see the way Green shined under the attention. His battles were magnificent and dramatic while still being calculating and precise. You ate up the way he directed his hand towards the camera with a blinding grin on the tiny television in your hotel room at the start of one battle, and from the tinny shrieking blasting through the shotty speakers, so did everyone in the arena.
Your battle against one another was apparently referred to as the highlight of the tournament, and while you understood why everyone screamed in delight as Green’s Aerodactyl took down your Charizard, you couldn’t quite place why they practically deafened you upon your victory. You had nowhere near the showmanship Green did, but when Green shook your hand post-match, the way he looked at you… His smile was soft, proud in a way that could only be directed at someone else, and with his eyes locked with yours, you realized his pride was placed in you. That was a rush of emotions not even ten thousand people chanting your name could ever hope to give you.
He was on break, Green told you later in your hotel room. He was doing fine in school, which you knew meant he was acing every one of his classes, the bastard, but the highlight for him was the data collecting he was doing for Sycamore. It took him all over Kalos, from rocky shores to snowy mountains, from quaint little towns so similar in feel to Pallet, to eternally autumn forests. Green had stated somewhere between his descriptions of the aquarium in Ambrette Town and the sundial in Anistar City that he would love to show you the region one day. When the two of you turned in that night, with Green passed out in his day clothes on the other side of your bed, you dreamt of summer days exploring a new region with your oldest friend. Maybe, after Green had finished his research under Sycamore, the two of you would make up for your childhood journey.
Your chance came nearly two years later in the shape of a man named Kukui.
He was a professor from the Alola region, a region famous for its beautiful shores and stunning flora. Your mom had vacationed there once upon a time, you knew, back when your dad was around. The way Kukui described it was from the view of a man in love with his home. When he asked for your notoriety to draw in more than just vacationers to their region, you almost gave in due to his passion alone.
Convince Green Oak first, you managed to tell him. If he had your rival on board, you’d go too.
Alola was humid, you found out. Humid and hot, forcing your clothes to stick to your skin as you trudged through the wilds of the routes. The benefit, you discovered quickly enough, was that Green would unbutton his polo down as far as the shirt would let him when the sun was at its peak.
He was a view, under the glow of the Alolan sun, no matter the hour of the day. Even the moonlight felt like it knew how to accentuate his features for you to admire as the two of you camped along routes. His hair lightened with the weeks, and his skin took on a sunkissed complexion that suited him so nicely. He had teased you for staring multiple times at first, but between weeks of Mantine surfing, battles with locals who only had passing knowledge of yours and Green’s fame, and evenings spent talking softly between the two of you, you had noticed his eyes on you just as much.
You’re not sure when your relationship with Green Oak changed, but, as you kiss him in the evening light, cool ocean waves lapping at your waists, you don’t think you particularly care.
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rankakiu · 6 days ago
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Hello, people of Tumblr ! A couple of months ago I decided to play a classic from my childhood: Pokémon, Fire Red version.
On a mere impulse (or perhaps motivated by my salty levels XD), I decided to choose the female trainer and give her the name Chloe, obviously in honor of Chloé Bourgeois, from the Miraculous Ladybug series.
For similar reasons, the rival, Green, I renamed Astruc, in honor of the greatest foe of my dear blonde XD.
And in case you're wondering: yes, I do plan to share screenshots of all the times Chloe defeated Astruc XD.
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wordbending · 10 days ago
why, thank you, mystery person, i wanted to post this exact thing!
7.) Therapy Pokemon Red/Blue (the ship, not the games)
TW: ableist slurs, past transphobia (sorry, kid blue is awful)
What do you get for the boy who has everything?
You have it all and you know it. You’re the grandson of the greatest Pokemon Professor who has ever lived and will ever live. You have a sister who gives you everything you could ever want. You’re a Pokemon genius who has been studying battle techniques and strategies since you were two, and at seven years old, you already surpass all your pathetic baby classmates and their pathetic baby Pokemon.
Despite not having a Pokemon yourself yet! That’s how smart you are!
Oh, sure, you want a Pokemon. More than anything. It’s the one thing your sister won’t give you, even though literal preschoolers have Pokemon. Even though whenever you borrow one from one of your classmates, you kick ass with it! Daisy and Gramps keep saying something about how “trainers don’t start their journey until they’re ten years old,” or “you’re not ready for the responsibility yet” or whatever, but they’re squandering your potential! It’s so frustrating!
You’ve tried everything. You’ve told them over and over that all your buddies think it’s unfair. You’ve told them over and over that owning and raising a Pokemon is scientifically proven, by Gramps himself no less, to improve children’s “cognitive development” and “empathy” and “emotional maturity,” whatever those words mean. You’ve told them over and over about the aforementioned “literal babies have Pokemon” thing. None of it works.
So there’s only one obvious thing to do, really. The next time you’re in Viridian City with family, you sneak a Pokeball out of the mart’s displays and into Daisy’s bag. And, as soon as Gramps is babysitting you and otherwise occupied, you abscond out of the house with your Pokeball and run as fast as you can into the wild, tall grass of Route 1.
It’s covered in rodents and different, flying rodents, who peer at you curiously or flee at the sight of you. Those won’t do. You only have one Pokeball, but you know better than anyone else how weak Rattatas and Pidgeys are for a serious trainer like yourself. You want something else - a Nidoran, maybe, or a Mankey, that start strong and can evolve into even stronger forms.
That’s when you see it. Or, rather, hear it.
A Pokemon barking.
You recognize its cry, from your studies - a Growlithe. But you’ve rarely seen one in person. They’re usually trained by police officers and are rarely seen in the wild, especially around Pallet Town.
You grin. This is perfect for you. Growlithe is a strong, loyal Pokemon who evolves into the almost legendary Arcanine. If you had one of those, nobody could beat you. You’d be far better off than you’d ever be with a Pidgey.
You get down on your stomach and crawl through the tall grass towards the sound of the barking Pokemon. You hear other noises as you get closer - flapping wings, the screeches of bird Pokemon, the roar of fire.
When you peer out of the grass, your shirt scuffed with dirt, you finally see it for yourself. A dirty, mud-covered orange dog Pokemon, belching flames at a crowd of Pidgeys swooping around it. You note that the Growlithe is favoring its left front leg - its right leg seems to be cut, likely by one of the Pidgeys.
Perfect, you think, taking the Pokeball out of your pocket and feeling it expand to its full size in your hand. The Growlithe’s already injured! That will make it way easier to catch!
You consider your strategy. You don’t have any Pokemon of your own. You’re not stupid - Pokemon are dangerous. If you just run at them, arms swinging, you’re going to get hurt, and then how will you get your own Pokemon?
But if you can manage to distract them...
You reach into the grass next to you until you find an overturned pebble. That will work.
You toss it at the crowd of Pidgeys and quickly duck back into the grass. Sure enough, the Pidgeys scatter away in alarm, leaving the Growlithe wide open for you to then stand up, shout “You’re mine!”, and then throw your Pokeball right at its head.
With a satisfying clonk, the Pokeball bounces off its head and floats into the air. It lowers its head and growls at the Pokeball, then starts to bark at it as the Pokeball opens and the Growlithe is surrounded by a rainbow prism of energy. It disappears into the Pokeball, which closes and falls to the ground.
It shakes once.
Three times.
You jump up into the air with a whoop, take a deep breath and calm down in case anyone you know sees you, and then race over to pick the Pokeball out of the dirt. It feels so solid and real in your hands, even though it doesn’t weigh any differently. It’s your Growlithe. You caught it.
Belatedly, you realize the Pidgeys have returned, and that they’re all staring at you and the new Pokemon in your hand.
You slowly step away, and then make a break for Gramps’ lab as fast as your legs can carry you.
But not because you’re scared, of course.
Gramps flips his lid when he sees you, your clothes covered in dirt and grass stains, your usually well-groomed hair a mess, shouting at the top of your lungs that you caught a Pokemon... but nowhere near as much as your sister does. She never yells or shouts, and neither does Gramps, but you’ve never seen or heard her so angry with you as when she finds out what you’ve done.
She practically chucks you into the bath, and you hear her tensely arguing with Gramps through the door. Gramps is, for maybe the first time in your life, on your side. While Daisy is saying that you can’t “handle the responsibility of a Pokemon” and that you “need to release it,” Gramps is saying that he was raising Pokemon at an even younger age, that you caught it yourself and that it’s therefore your choice, and that this obviously means a lot to you for you to go through so much effort.
But what seems to settle the argument is Gramps pointing out that if you release the Pokemon, there’s nothing stopping you from catching another one. Daisy can’t really argue with that. After all, you know he’s right - if they released your Growlithe, you’d just find another Pokeball and settle on a Pidgey or something. They can’t keep you from catching Pokemon forever.
When you come out of the bathroom dressed in a fresh new set of clothes, they’re both waiting for you, the still dirty Pokeball you used sitting between them.
You stare between them both. Gramps looks uncomfortable, and Daisy frowns, and you wonder for a minute if they’ve decided you have to release your Growlithe after all.
“So,” you say, raising your chin. “Going to tell me what I should do with my Pokemon?”
Gramps looks over at Daisy, clearly unsure what to say. Daisy looks back at him, then looks back towards you and smiles softly.
“Blue,” she says. “We both know this means a lot to you. And we’re both sorry that you had to hear that. Come here.”
She turns to face you and taps her hand against the leg of her skirt, like you’re some kind of baby. You think about refusing, but that would just make you even more of a baby, so you begrudgingly walk over to her and climb up into her lap.
She lets you lay against her chest and you relax a little, the tension in the air fading just slightly.
“You’re a very mature young man, Blue,” she says. “Which is why you should listen to us and not go run off into a field of wild Pokemon by yourself.”
You grumble under your breath.
“But your grandfather is right. You’re mature enough that we both agree it’s time that you learned to raise a Pokemon properly. We both think it’ll help you grow, as a trainer and as a person.”
“Your Pokemon - whatever it is - is going to need a check-up and vaccinations, before you can take it with you,” Gramps says, “but... congratulations, Blue. This is the beginning of your Pokemon journey.”
You nod seriously, to show him you’re ready to take on the responsibility.
“I’ll be the best trainer there ever was,” you say. “Me and Growlithe are going to take on the world.”
Gramps smiles. “Growlithe, hmm?” He nods. “An interesting choice for a first partner. Have you come up with a name for it yet?”
“Yeah,” you say with a grin. “Kagu.”
The next day, you take Kagu to school, to show him off to all your classmates. Pallet Town is a very small town, with a very small school, so you don’t have many to show him off to, but everyone seems very impressed by your catch.
Kagu, though, seems to not be a fan of people. If anyone gets too close to him, he lowers his head and growls, and you have to tell people to back off so he doesn’t bite. Even you can’t get too close to him. It’s not how you were expecting things to go - you were expecting that he’d follow your commands immediately. That’s what happened with most trainers’ first Pokemon, after all, whether ones from their families or the ones they got from Gramps.
Maybe making your first Pokemon a wild stray was a mistake.
But you’re going to make Kagu your Pokemon, no matter what it costs. You know he’s strong. With a little training, he’ll follow your orders soon enough, and then you’ll have the best Pokemon in Pallet Town.
In the meantime, there’s someone who didn’t come up to view your new catch, and you’ve been wanting to show it off to him most of all.
You can see him in the back of the class, staring at the floor, his familiar red cap lowered.
Daisy loved Red. Gramps loved Red. Teachers loved Red.
You hated Red. That snot-nosed little brat got all the attention and they didn’t even do anything to deserve it. They didn’t have Pokemon (nevermind that, until now, you didn’t either). They didn’t ever battle, and they probably weren’t even that skilled. They weren’t smart enough to be good at anything. They were dumb, and mute, and stupid, and even when you managed to force them to talk, the words didn’t come out right.
And, worst of all, he’d used to be a girl. You’d only stopped calling him “she” because Daisy got mad at you when you did. His dumb mother treated him like any other boy, and so did everyone else, but you knew the truth. And girls were gross. That’s why you only hung out with other boys, not... whatever Red was.
That made Kagu perfect. Now you had a leg up on dumb little Red - your own Pokemon, something he didn’t have, something he’d never have.
You walked over to Red’s desk, your best buddies following behind you, and you slammed the Pokeball down onto it. Red jumped, his head whipping up to stare at you with wide, frightened eyes.
You sneered.
“Guess what I got, little Red?” you said, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. You always called him ‘little Red,’ even though you were the same age - he never reacted to it, but your buddies always snickered, so it was worth it. “That’s right. I caught a Pokemon. A rare one, and a strong one. Want to see it?”
He just stared at you dumbly. What an idiot.
“Well, I don’t care if you want to,” you said, snatching the Pokeball back from the desk. You threw it to the ground. “Go, Kagu!”
The Pokeball burst open, and in a flash of rainbow light, your Growlithe emerged. Even before the light faded, he already started to look frantically back and forth at the people nearby, raising his hindquarters, lowering his head, and growling.
“Impressed?” you said smugly, crossing your arms and waiting for Red’s reaction.
Red said nothing, of course, but you were annoyed to note that he didn’t look impressed at all. He never looked like anything, so you don’t know what you were expecting - for him to get on his hands and knees and acknowledge you as the better trainer? As if.
Instead, he got up from his desk and stared down at Kagu as if he was examining it. Kagu turned, noticed him, and started to growl, just like he growled at everything else.
But then Red did something... strange. He crouched down in front of Kagu and calmly extended a hand, palm up.
Kagu continued to growl, looking back and forth between Red’s blank, expressionless face and the outstretched hand. And then, much to your surprise, Kagu took a step forward and sniffed Red’s hand.
Red sat there placidly as Kagu continued to sniff his hand, and you grew more and more irritated by the second. Why wasn’t Kagu growling at him? Why was your Pokemon being friendly with Red?
“Hey...!” you said, more to yourself than anything. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
And then, Kagu abruptly, suddenly bounded forward. Red didn’t even seem surprised - he just opened both arms and let the Growlithe tackle his chest. He hugged the Pokemon close to him and started to laugh, and it was the first time you’d ever heard Red laugh. Kagu was already licking his face.
You were furious, and your buddies murmuring to each other behind you made you even more furious. You stomped over to your Pokemon - your Pokemon! - and tried to pull it out of Red’s grip. But Red, for some reason, wouldn’t let go, as if he’d already claimed your Pokemon for himself!
“Let’im go, Red!” you shouted, while Red held on tight and Kagu whined. “He’s mine! I caught him!”
Red let out a loud, awful moaning noise, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
“Let him go!” you yelled, and before you even thought about it, you were reaching back a fist to make him let your Pokemon go.
But before you could swing, your arm was being caught and held back. You squirmed in the grip, looking up to see the teacher staring down at you.
“Want to explain to me what’s going on here?” he said, with a bemused smile.
You squirmed out of the teacher’s grip and raised your hands, clenched into fists, in front of your chest.
“It’s Red!” you shouted, before waving a hand at him. He was still clutching your Pokemon to his chest like a life vest. “He took my Pokemon!”
The teacher took a look at Red. Red was breathing rapidly - not only that, but, as you couldn’t help but notice, he was crying, like a pathetic little toddler. Just like you’d never seen him laugh, you’d never seen him cry either. You’d always thought it was impossible - that Red was just broken or something.
Kagu was still licking his face. You felt nothing less than betrayed.
“Seems to me that the little guy just took a liking to him,” the teacher said, sounding more bemused than ever. You kind of wanted to punch him in the figurative Pokeballs. “But Red...” The teacher approached Red slowly, crouching down to something closer to his height, and smiled. Red only pulled Kagu closer to himself. “That is Blue’s Pokemon. You can’t keep it.”
No shit! you thought, furious at the very idea.
But Red nodded hesitantly. He released his grip on Kagu, and you crouched down low and held out your hand to it, the same way that Red had a few minutes before.
Kagu did not move out of Red’s lap. Instead, he took one look at you and growled, baring his fangs. He only calmed down when Red gently began to stroke his head.
Seeing red, you stomped past both Red and the teacher and snatched your Pokeball off the floor.
“Kagu, return!” you commanded, and before Kagu could so much as bark at his Pokeball, the Pokeball opened up and he disappeared in a stream of red light.
Before the teacher could stop you, you descended on Red, pointing your index finger in his face.
“Kagu is mine,” you snarled. “Got it?”
The teacher grabbed you by the collar and pulled you away from Red, but you didn’t care. You and your buddies would get your revenge on him after school was out.
And, if Red ended up with a black eye in the process, well, who would blame perfect, star student Blue?
When Red ended up with much, much worse than a black eye, they blamed perfect, star student Blue right away. The teacher had a suspicion, and one of your so-called “buddies” squealed immediately.
The first consequence is that you were grounded. Kagu was taken to stay at Gramps’ lab, and you weren’t allowed out of the house or to play on your Super Famicom for a month, which your sister thought was a light punishment but you thought was an endless hell.
The second consequence is that you and your sister had a Talk.
You tried to explain to her that Red had taken your Pokemon, and when she pressed, clearly suspicious of that claim, you explained that he hadn’t really taken your Pokemon, per se, it had just climbed into his lap and settled down like it belonged to him and not you. And Red had looked so happy, he was even laughing, like it really was his, and then Red had refused to let it go, and you had just been so angry...
Your sister had refused to accept that as a justification. Worse, she had managed to pull out of you that you had been “bullying” Red for years, which you thought was ridiculous. When she extended your grounding to six months, you tried to explain to her that it wasn’t bullying, it was just a little schoolyard roughhousing, totally normal for kids your age, and that had made her so angry at you that she extended it to nine months. You kept your mouth shut after that.
The third consequence was that you had to apologize to Red. And not a meagre handwritten apology letter. You had to talk to him in person.
Daisy trailing behind you, ready to push you if need be, you walked up to Red’s house and rang the doorbell. Red’s mother, a plump middle-aged blue-haired woman in an apron, answered the door, took one look at you standing there, and glared red-hot knives into your very soul.
You refused to back down, even to Red’s mom. You shrugged casually and said, “Let’s get this over with,” and Daisy smacked you on the back of the head.
A few minutes later, you were seated at the small, quaint little table in Red’s house, surrounded in all directions by pictures of Red. You couldn’t help but notice that there weren’t any pictures of him as a baby, or in a dress.
Across from you was Red, next to him was his mother, and next to you was Daisy. Red looked (as much as Red could look like anything) extremely uncomfortable, even considering his arm was in a sling. Your sister and Red’s mother stared at you expectantly, waiting for you to speak.
You hated this so much. Red was, as always, the perfect child. Better than you in every way. And now, because of him, you were not only grounded for nearly an entire year, now you had to take pity on him? Now you had to lie and say you felt bad?
“I’m sorry,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning back against the chair. And then, because you could never ever keep your mouth shut, you added, “Happy?”
Daisy grabbed your ear and tugged hard.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” you whined. “OK, I mean it! I’m sorry!”
“Don’t say it to me,” Daisy said, releasing your ear. “Say it to him.”
Grumbling, you looked at Red, who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat - knowing Red, it was probably because he wasn’t used to sitting still, but you liked to think it was because he was scared of you.
...You did feel kind of bad, though. You hadn’t intended it to go so far. You’d just wanted to rough Red up a bit, make him take twice about getting buddy-buddy with your Pokemon. You hadn’t wanted your friends to... break his arm.
Not that you’d done anything to stop them.
You’re screwed up, you know that, said a little voice in your head. You told it to shut up.
“I’m sorry,” you said again, looking back and forth between Red and the tablecloth. And because you could see that Red’s mother was still giving you that look, you continued, “For being a bully. I was just...”
You looked towards Daisy as if expecting her to help, but she had narrowed her eyes, and you realized you were starting to get on the wrong track.
“Nevermind,” you said, turning your gaze away. “I’m sorry, Red. Won’t happen again.”
“Honey,” said Red’s mother. You noticed that she didn’t use the wheedling tone that other adults used around Red, the tone that treated Red like the fragile little doll you knew he was. “Do you accept Blue’s apology?”
You thought to yourself that he wouldn’t. Why would he? You’d gotten his arm broken. If someone did that to you, you’d never forgive them. Hell, you’d break their arm right back.
To your surprise, though, Red nodded. His mother smiled, and Daisy looked relieved.
“I am so sorry for the trouble, Masami,” your sister said. “I know Blue is a handful, but believe me, I didn’t expect anything like this.”
“Well, hopefully he’ll learn his lesson from this,” replied Red’s mom, in a tone that made you seethe. You were so sick of being treated like a kid you could scream.
“I’m sure he will,” said Daisy in a way that suggested you didn’t have much choice in the matter. She started to get out of her chair, and you followed behind her, unsure what else to do. “We’ll be going now, but thank you again, Masami.”
“Oh, actually, I was about to cook dinner,” Red’s mom said brightly. “Why don’t you and Blue stay for a bit?”
Red stared at you like a Stantler in headlights. Daisy stared at Red’s mom like she’d grown a second head. But, before you could protest, Daisy smacked you on the back.
“We’d love to,” she said with a smile.
It was going to be an incredibly awkward dinner, but no matter how awkward it was going to be, it was nothing compared to when Daisy got up from the table to help Red’s mom with the meal, leaving you and Red sitting there alone.
Red was staring at you.
“Stop that,” you snapped, just quietly enough to make sure nobody else would overhear.
Red blushed, for some reason, and looked down, so that his face was hidden by the rim of his hat.
“I’m not actually sorry, you know,” you lied. “I just wanted to get my sister off my back.”
Red said nothing, and you grinned, more to yourself than anything.
“But you’re not going to tell them, are you? You’re not going to tell them anything, because you’re dumb.”
Red still said nothing. God, he was so boring. Even “bullying” him, or whatever Daisy wanted to call it, wasn’t fun.
“Why do people like you so much anyway? Everyone thinks you’re the ‘golden boy’ or whatever. Even Gramps likes you better than me.” That comes out more bitter than you want it to, so you play it off with a shrug. “I don’t get it.”
Daisy comes back to the table with bowls and plates of udon and onigiri, and she takes one look at Red’s uncomfortable expression and narrows her eyes at you.
Why don’t people get so worked up about you, huh?
“I didn’t say anything,” you grumble.
She looks doubtful, but she doesn’t press, and the rest of the meal passes without much fuss. But the whole time, you keep staring at Red, like he’s wormed his way into your brain.
Stupid kid.
You’ll never, ever understand him.
Over the next few months, everyone - “everyone” meaning Daisy and Gramps - start acting even weirder about you, your Pokemon, and Red. You don’t know why, but Gramps gives Red a Pokemon - an Abra - that’s apparently a certified “therapy Pokemon,” whatever that means. You feel incredibly slighted. Red is the same age as you, and you had to steal a Pokeball to get your Pokemon. How come Red could be trusted with one, when you couldn’t?
Red doesn’t even like it. He hates it, actually. It follows him everywhere, teleporting to his side, but whatever a “therapy Pokemon” is supposed to do, Red doesn’t let it do it. He gets more visibly upset than ever, and when the Abra uses its psychic powers to try to calm him down, he screams and cries and throws tantrums right there in class.
It should be funny. It’s not.
Gramps takes it back. Only a few days later, when you’re cooped up in your room with nothing to do but read Pokemon manga, Daisy comes up to your room.
She sits down beside you on your bed and says nothing for a long moment, and then she reaches out and presses a hand on your back.
“Blue, your grandfather and I have been talking...”
You pull your legs up to your chest and scoff. Whatever they’ve been talking about, it can’t possibly be good. And, if you had to guess, it’s going to be about Red, which is just going to make things worse.
“It’s about Red,” she says, and you snort, because of course. “And... your Pokemon. Your Growlithe.”
It doesn’t take a genius like yourself to figure out what she means, and you instantly pull away from her touch, backing off and shooting her your most vicious glare.
“No,” you say, as firmly as you can. “You’re not. He’s mine.”
“We’re not doing anything,” Daisy says placatingly, raising her hands. “Please listen, Blue.”
But you’re still angry, so you just snap, “I caught him! I caught him myself!” You ball your hands into fists. “Why does that retard Red get to have him?”
“Blue!” your sister shouts. “Don’t you ever use that word.”
“Why not?! It’s what he is! And everyone loves him! Why is everyone so nice to him? Why does he get my Pokemon? Why does he get everything?!”
You realize you’ve started crying, and it just makes you even angrier. You lower your head as if it’ll hide the tears on your cheeks, but you can’t stop your shoulders from trembling.
After a moment, your sister speaks again.
“Blue, I understand you’re upset, but Red has... special needs,” she says, and you hate so much that she won’t just call him a retard, like he is. “We’re just looking out for him, trying to help him. We know you worked hard to catch your Pokemon, but... nobody’s ever seen Red so happy as when he was playing with your Growlithe. We think it’d be really good for him.”
The more she talks, the more angry you feel, the more frustration builds up within you. You still want to cry, but you fight back the tears.
“And you’d still have a Pokemon,” she adds, reaching into her purse and taking out a Pokeball, which she offers to you. You don’t take it. “It’s an Eevee. Your grandfather tells me they’re extremely rare. Think of it as a trade.”
You stare between her and the Pokeball, and try not to slap it out of her hands.
“I don’t want your pity Pokemon,” you say. “Tell Gramps he can keep it.”
Daisy looks disappointed, but she puts the Pokeball back in her purse.
“It’s your decision, Blue,” she says, in a tone that suggests to you that’s technically true, but that she’s still unhappy you chose the wrong one. She stands up off your bed and starts to walk out of your room, then pauses and turns around. “But... please, Blue, I hope you’ll at least consider it. You could really do him a lot of good.”
With that, she leaves, leaving you alone in your room. The moment she does, you grab a large stuffed Nidoking from your bed, bury your face in it, and scream.
A lot of good, huh?
Why doesn’t anyone ever care about what’s good for you?
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chonchies · 12 days ago
Some things i did w a friend a few months ago
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badassindistress · 12 days ago
I've got a new big project!
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I'm going to be making a dream dress! Insired by the yellow 1902 Worth Gown for Lady Curzon (also known as the Oak Leaf Dress) I'm turning this lovely blue green silk into the princess dress I've been dreaming of for years.
I have about 5 meters of silk, with some cutouts, so I'm going to have to be smart about cutting. Luckily Cathy Hay has measured the Oak Leaf Gown back in 2009 and found out the skirt is pieced to hell and back.
I'm planning a slightly less full skirt, invisible front closing and as much rouleaux trim and embroidery as I can manage. I'm thinking art nouveau butterflies 🦋
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lovely-sea · 13 days ago
Oak leaf salad with tomatoes, light Burgos cheese, mint leaves and toasted nuts. Dressed with extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper.
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professor-blue-oak · 15 days ago
This is kinda random but with my 3rd wedding anniversary just around the bend, it kinda popped into my head and I’m sure you guys would get a kick out of it.
A lot of you already know that I see as a father figure. Well, he played the father role during my wedding. Walked down the aisle, “father-daughter” dance thing.
But he was hella nervous before the wedding ha! I think I’ve got it video too but he said something along the lines of like
Lance: I think the last time I was this nervous was when I barged into the Team Rocket Base
Naomi: You weren’t nervous during our wedding? (Said with an annoyed huff)
Lance: Why the hell would I be nervous to marry the love of my life?
Naomi: Hmm, fair enough
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hzlcyonn · 15 days ago
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deadinsidestudio · 19 days ago
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Hiiiiiiii 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
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