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The Angsty Domestic Life of Team Rocket: Quite the Turn (part two of three)

Thirteen!me thought this story should be rated PG-13.

Thirteen!me was a goddamn idiot.

Part one is here.

Warnings: Pokémon/Human romantic relationship; unexplained mpreg/male pregnancy; workplace violence and murder; shaky grasp of the realities of pregnancy and childrearing; general angst; lack of medical and scientific knowledge; drunk Giovanni smoking crack; original characters; possible out-of-character moments for Jessie, James, and Meowth; self harm; odd ideas about romance and revenge; blood drinking (?!); FUCKING CANNIBALISM?!

-O-o-O-o-O-

It was a cold winter day. Meowth had decided to help James raise Methoni. Jessie still wanted them to think of plans to steal Pikachu and was being a slavedriver to them. Methoni was old enough to be able to understand their situation, but young enough for it to be better not to tell him.

That didn’t mean he didn’t know what was going on, which he did.

That day, James had come down with something because he and Jessie worked all day shoveling snow and burying Matalico. Meowth had to take care of Methoni because he and James didn’t want Methoni to get a cold.

Methoni was asking a lot of hard questions. The answers were too extreme so all Meowth could say was, “Let’s wait until you’re older.”

Then after literally twenty questions, Methoni asked the ultimate push-them-off-the-deep-end question: “What happened to my father and my sister?”

At that moment, James snapped.

He went into the bathroom, mumbling something about avenging Matalico’s death.

“I think he’s breaking down,” Meowth said.

-O-o-O-

James forced himself to vomit. He was punishing himself for letting Matalico die. Then he took a small razor and started to cut himself. After he made about ten cuts, he stopped.

He grabbed a pocketknife and climbed out of the bathroom window.

He ran to Giovanni’s headquarters. He broke into Giovanni’s office. The guards tried to catch him, but he was too fast for them.

When James arrived at Giovanni’s office, Giovanni was drunk and smoking crack.

“What do you want?” he yelled violently at James.

“I’m here because you killed Matalico!” James yelled.

Giovanni slapped James down with his ring hand. “I don’t care about that waste of a Meowth,” he said.

James took out the pocketknife and stabbed Giovanni.

When Giovanni finally stopped breathing, the guards came in and looked shocked.

“Don’t tell anyone about this if you know what’s good for you,” James said.

“Hey, take it easy, babe. We want to thank you for that. He was a slavedriver,” one of the guards said.

“You’re welcome,” James said.

When the guards left, James trashed the surveillance camera. He locked the door. He had killed Giovanni, but his work was far from over.

He poked a hole in one of Giovanni’s legs. Blood poured out of the hole. James collected the blood in a cup.

James cut off pieces of Giovanni’s flesh and began to eat it. The taste didn’t faze him; he’d eaten some pretty weird things when he was pregnant with Methoni.

After eating about a quarter of Giovanni’s flesh, James collected more blood. He began to drink the blood.

When he was done, he cleared away the remains of Giovanni. He had become dazed after doing that little cannibal homicide thing. It was probably because he had never eaten human flesh before. He had drank blood before, but it wasn’t human blood. Every time he, Jessie, and Meowth accidentally killed a Pokémon when they blasted off, James would stab the Pokémon and drink its blood to honor it. Jessie and Meowth knew about this habit; Jessie thought it was weird and Meowth thought it was brave.

James cleaned the blood off his clothing and face. He had to admit, he was pretty cute. That was why the guard had called him “babe.” He hoped they wouldn’t try to make him “do things” with them. He didn’t want to insult the ghost of Matalico.

James went back home. He entered the bathroom through the open window.

Then he realized what he’d done and started vomiting.

Meowth came in.

“James, are you okay?” he asked.

“What have I done?” James screamed.

“What do you mean?” Meowth said.

“Let’s just say, we don’t have a boss anymore.”

“What did….How did….?” Meowth wasn’t even finishing his sentences.

“I killed him.”

“What did you do with the body?” Meowth asked.

“I drank his blood and ate his flesh,” James answered, completely calm.

Meowth noticed the cuts on James’s arms. “Who did this to you?!” he asked, alarmed.

“I did,” James said.

Meowth looked at James sadly. He knew right away this was because Matalico was killed.

“You know what we have to do, don’t you?” he said.

“What?” James said.

“Turn you in.”

James screamed.

-O-o-O-

James woke up screaming.

It turned out it was all a nightmare.

He never killed Giovanni. He never drank Giovanni’s blood. He never went cannibal on Giovanni.

He had just fallen asleep in front of the toilet.

James remembered the horrible vision of Giovanni’s dead, rotting carcass. He rushed back to the toilet.

Meowth walked by. He heard James vomiting. He decided to leave James alone for a while.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, the fact that he was no longer dreaming hit James.

He realized it was the day after Matalico was killed.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: Cannibalism and blood-drinking is no excuse for a messy appearance.

Jessie Drugs James and Is Generally Abusive: Jessie Evolves Into a 4chan Poster (part four of four)

I don't even know anymore.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Content Warning: First-person mixed points-of-view; abuse mentions; misunderstanding of medical and psychological issues; shaky understanding of mental institutions and psychopathy; general angst; hinting at a Pokémon/Human romantic relationship; out-of-character behavior for James and Meowth; absolute character assassination of Jessie; Jessie says "kys" to James; Meowth watches James sleep; abrupt ending where the issues are maybe not dealt with properly; Jesus Hades Christ twelve!me tortured James a lot in fic (I don't know why; he was and still is my favorite Pokémon character)

-O-o-O-o-O-

(Meowth's point of view)

James had changed.

I hardly knew him anymore. He was more serious and sad. His eyes had lost their light.

What had happened to the James I used to know? He didn't used to cry all the time. He had no reason to hate anyone or anything. He seemed to be sad all the time after the visit. I found out later it was because he felt he'd betrayed Jessie.

I told James he should try to patch things up with Jessie. He agreed reluctantly.

We went to the mental institution again. James took a shaky breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I can't do it. I can't face her now," James said quietly.

"Maybe you should sleep on it," I said. "You'll feel better about it when you wake up."

We went back to our room. James took a nap. I thought about how James had changed and watched over him.

After a while, I noticed James was trembling. I took a closer look and saw that he was crying.

"James, why are you crying?" I asked.

"I don't want to hate Jessie anymore. I don't want to love….who I love anymore either," James said quietly.

This was ridiculous. Why was Jessie putting us through all this pain? Especially James. He never did anything to her. He always obeyed her.

I comforted James. He went back to sleep. I felt like I needed to pay James back for all the care he'd given me, although he never asked for anything in return.

But how could I do it so he didn't suspect my feelings for him?

I looked at him. He looked so cute and angelic when he was sleeping. Once, just before I had fallen asleep, he kissed me softly on my charm. He didn't realize it, but I replayed that moment a lot in my head.

I went over to James. He was fast asleep. I kissed him gently on his forehead.

Sweet dreams, Little Jim.

(James's point of view)

The next day, we visited Jessie again. The second visit was worse than the first.

Meowth went in first, alone. We wanted to go in alone because we thought it would be better than last time.

We were dead wrong.

Meowth went in. When he came out, he said, "Your turn."

I got up to go in. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to vomit.

I walked into the room. Jessie was in a straitjacket.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Just to see you," I said. I didn't like to see Jessie in a cage.

"You put me in here."

"I did it to help you!"

I regretted saying those words as soon as they came out of my mouth.

"Help me?! How the fuck did you think you were helping anyone? You're such a worthless bitch, James. Fuck you. You should've drank the poison yourself. I hate you."

I stood there, frozen. I knew tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn't try to wipe them away.

Jessie would never forgive me.

Jessie HATES me.

I ended up in the waiting room, not sure how I got there. Somehow, I ended up in the motel room, lying flat on my back on the bed.

Meowth sat next to me. "What happened?" he asked.

I never really told him.

(Meowth's point of view)

What happened to James?

He hardly smiled. He smiled a lot before the visit, but he didn't after the second one. He just sat around with a scared look on his face.

He was skinny before the second visit, but now he wasn't eating and he seemed to be wasting away.

He wasn't sleeping right. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was constantly messy.

He looked like a lost child.

What went wrong with the visit? What made James give up on life? What could I do to make him want to live again?

"What did Jessie do to you?" I asked.

James didn't answer.

"What did she do?!" I was almost hysterical.

James started crying.

"She….told me to kill myself," James sobbed.

I was pissed.

"That does it. Jessie has hurt you one too many times. Tomorrow, we're going back to that mental institution to straighten things out between you two. You don't deserve all this pain, James," I said.

James looked frightened.

"Will Jessie ever get out of the asylum?" James asked.

"Who knows?" I said.

(James's point of view)

Meowth and I walked back to the mental institution. I was really scared, but I had to straighten things out with Jessie.

"You can go to the bathroom if you need a break, but we're not leaving until we get things straightened out," Meowth had said.

I had no choice but to obey.

I walked into the room. Meowth followed.

"Why are you acting this way?" I managed to ask.

"What?!" Jessie said.

I was so startled I almost didn't answer. "Why are you acting this way" I repeated.

"You said I'm a psychopath," Jessie said.

"I want to know why you're a psychopath!" I didn't know why I was so cranky all of a sudden. I guess I didn't want to be bothered with smart arse comments.

"Fuck, you don't have to scream," Jessie said, uninterested.

"It's the only way you'll listen to me! Why did you want me to kill Meowth?! Why were you drugging me?!" I cried.

"To make Team Rocket better," Jessie said. The words "no, shit" would've fit perfectly in the sentence.

"How would that make us better? What does the word 'partner' mean to you? Meowth doesn't deserve to die and I don't deserve to be told to kill him! And I'm glad I lied and ran away! How would killing Meowth make Team Rocket better?!" I was trying to hold back tears, but I didn't seem to be doing a good job of it.

Jessie didn't look interested at all. I knew she could kick me or hit me from inside the cell (I was in kicking range).

Jessie kicked me in my side and punched me in the face. I was knocked over, of course.

Meowth jumped up and scratched Jessie across her face.

"Don't you ever hurt James like that!" he yelled. He was crying. "Why are you acting like a psychopathical asshole?! Just cut out the shit and stop hurting us! We can't go a fuckin' day without worrying whether you got your ass thrown in jail or escaped! Why are you suddenly such a dickhead, anyway?"

Meowth continued ranting and swearing at Jessie. Jessie still looked bored. Meowth must've realized she wasn't listening to him.

"C'mon, James. Let's go," he said, sounding depressed.

I struggled to get up. Meowth and I walked back to the motel.

Then Meowth was the one sitting around, looking ready to cry.

"Even yelling and swearing didn't make her listen," I said.

Meowth began to cry. I held him. The poor kitty. I had to protect him.

"I just wanted to get Jessie back," Meowth said.

We stared into each other's eyes. Meowth's pretty blue eyes had tears in them. I wiped away one of his tears.

"Maybe we will, Meowth. Maybe we will."

(Meowth's point of view)

Here's what happened.

James and I got out of the motel. We set up our tent next to the mental institution and went in there every day.

Jessie eventually got back to normal. I acted like nothing happened, but it took a while for James to get used to her.

A kind of happy ending to an unhappy experience.

Life isn't half bad.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: When a cat watches someone sleep, it's generally not creepy. If a sapient talking cat Pokémon watches someone sleep, well....It's still a better love story than Twilight.

TW: venting about my whole ass panic attack. So yeah

So I'm literally in tears rn. My acne flared up really bad. My nose is to big. My lips are too small. My hair just won't work with me. I may be skinny isn't good when your face looks like God hit you 1000000000000000000000x with the ugly stick.

My brother decided to say, "It's not that bad. Why are you upset?"

Easy to say when you have every female in the world falling at your feet.

Like all my siblings got the attractive gene & my genes decided I'd be the ugly one.

My teeth are messed up to. Not lined up, under bite. Got scars lining my body so that's another flaw to add.

Why would anyone decide to date me.

The guy I was dating kill himself. I would to if I was dating me.

He didn't even leave my ugly ass a note. Such a shame ig.

Got ADHD, Bipolar, ODD, Generalized Anxiety, Depression, PTSD, & now possibly falling on the Autism spectrum.

Ugly af

Annoying af

Always fall in everyone's shadows. Only this person's younger sister or this persons older sister maybe this other person's daughter.

Can't even make a name for myself. Sometimes I wish I'd disappear. I was suppose to have a twin. If she made it maybe it'd be better.

School is stressing me out. I somehow passed last year. Kind of tired.

I'm just tired.

No matter how hard I try or how hard I work. Nothing will ever be enough.

Not for me, my mum, my siblings, my friends, my teachers, no one. I'm never enough.

I have a panic attack my mum decides the cry.

What gives her the right. She looks great. She's witty, kind, independent, knows what she wants. So why is she crying. Literally nothing happened.

You're crying cause I'm upset & making everyone else upset. Literally not my fault I'm having a panic attack while looking in the mirror.

Hell now I've started starving myself. Afraid of weight gain ig

I lie. Say how cool my family is. How I don't care whether I am skinny or not. Lie that I'm not ugly or pretty. I lie. Straight through my teeth.

I pretend my life is so great.

No.

I never have been close with my mum. I've always wanted to. Seems everytime I start to I get pushed back.

My mother is proud of all my other siblings.

I gave up on art. I was like 12 or 13. I went to show my mother a drawing.

My mother told me to shut up as my older brother & sister were gonna sing. She couldn't even wait one second to take a glance.

When she decided to look. After praising her oh so talented children. She just said my drawing was cool.

I flushed that drawing down the toilet.

I've decided that I'll just not try.

I'm 16 atm. I try to impress my mother. Be a oh so good kid.

Never one glance.

Where did I go wrong.

My ex boyfriend gave me hope. Maybe someone could love me. Someone could find a way to look past all my flaws & see some beauty that I just couldn't see.

But the rope he hung from could say different.

No goodbye, no letter. Nothing.

Last words were him breaking up with me in a group chat without notifying me .

Having to find out through someone he hates.

Someone who he despises knew.

Then when I joined. He just ridiculed me. Put me down. Kept saying cruel words. Just to break up. Then leave this world.

I know I wasn't the cause. That his world came to an end. But why?

I've only ever looked at the bright side. Wanted to help others. Sit by those who hurt. Helping others gave me purpose. Hope that maybe I one day could.

My mother's name is Hope though. Even she couldn't believe in me. How ironic. The woman who gave birth to me is named Hope. Yet any hope she could've had in me never met my eyes.

I would leave the world as well. I guess I just like the challenge. Tried to leave a couple times. Each one a fail. For 6 minutes & few seconds. My heart stopped. I was at peace. Then my heart decides to beat again. Body decides to work again.

October 23rd 2018. Was my near death experience. Was great honestly. Sadly death just won't take me. No matter how much I've tried. Even death doesn't want me.

How ironic. Death takes everyone. Yet not me.

Take people I care about. Not me though.

I gave up on attempting suicide. Never leads me to death.

I just kind of exist now.

Mother won't let me get a job. Won't let me pierce even my ears.

She says she cares yet victim cards Trump all.

I weirdly love my family though.

My mother saved me from going to foster care. Plus my father was abusive. The memories that'll never leave haven't grown because of her.

Yet it seems I really was just part of the package.

To care for any of the others. I was just the con.

She showed up to my football practice in 8th grade.

She looked so proud & congratulated me on knocking guys 10x my height down. For once she was proud.

One of my matches she showed up to. I was knocked down by a kid. Are team lost. Any hope she had in me. I could see disappear.

She lectured me after. Saying how I could've done better.

I quit the team. Coach said that I shouldn't. It just wasn't as full filing when the person who gives birth to you. Well the one you spend all your time trying to make proud. Look at you with cold eyes.

I had a choir concert not even a year ago. I did the whole thing. Hoping maybe she walk in. See that I was overcoming my fear of singing on stage.

She texted me once I was done. She waited outside the entire time.

Didn't take the time to come in. I thought maybe she was doing something. Shopping or riding around. No. She just sat in the parking lot.

It hurts. I lost my childhood. Lost someone I loved. Lost any hope of my mum being proud. Lost my pride. Lost any love for myself. Lost any meaning for my life.

I've given up. Won't kill myself.

Wouldn't give myself the satisfaction. Plus I've tried to many times. Shot my shot. Missed everyone besides one that I rimmed & missed.

Guess I'll live just to survive. Then die peacefully in life.

Maybe I'll die saving someone. That'd be good to. Be remembered as someone who saved someone .

Well thx for reading ig

American Psycho Cutscene Idea

Based on a convo with me and my moot @annabellelee1849 so enjoy I guess

So I was listening to O’ Superman, Mitskis why didn’t you stop me? and Melanies Sippy cup I couldn’t help but think this might’ve been a scene in the book but also a cut scene from a movie that might’ve been in the directors cut.

It starts with Patrick killing and dismembering a prostitute and after he’s done he’s on barbiturates and soon he tries to stay awake but he accidentally falls asleep

And he soon wakes up in his childhood living room and he’s now 8-10 years old again. He finds himself wondering why he’s here when his mom comes in and asks how her baby boys doing. He asks his mom what he’s doing here but she just doesn’t hear him and gives him a sweet treat and asks how his day has been and soon she just looks at him while still smiling eyes wide. But it’s not her smile he remembers. It’s uncanny and lifeless at best but he just asks what she’s doing. It’s then she asks why he murdered that girl. It’s then Patrick soon cries and tells his mom he didn’t mean to but his mom keeps asking and it’s when he screams I don’t know he wakes up.

But he can’t move. And no matter how hard he tries he can’t move. It’s then he sees a shadow in the corner of his room and he threatens the intruder but he soon hears a voice come out of him. Saying it missed him. Patrick recognizes it as his mothers.

But it sounds distorted and way too broken to be hers. Like a broken vinyl.

But he still tries to call out to her.

And when his mom walks towards him Patrick sees that she’s not looking alive anymore.

She looks dead. But not like a rotting body that he’s used to seeing. It’s more like a fresh corpse at a morgue. And no matter what she comes and cradles his head closer and calls him her baby boy no matter what. And it’s there Patrick begins silently crying while this corpse of his mom wipes them away and says it knows he didn’t mean to kill that poor girl

And it’s then Patrick wakes up.

He looks around breathing heavily and soon can’t sleep now so he goes to his living room to watch the slasher films he’s rented but

He still wonders

If that was his mom. Or was it just his hallucinations

I was having a breakdown in the kitchen due to my mysophobia but then the washing machine was there and I finally ate something, so it's ok now

Hot Take

Steven is in hospital for emergency psychiatric treatment. If his mental state is really as bad as it seems, it's probably deteriorating at a pace where it is unlikely to be controlled without drastic intervention. He's having flashbacks, for God’s sake.

There are a number of reasons why a person can be hospitalised in this situation:

They require medication for their mental state, and need to be kept under observation to make sure there are no adverse effects

They are so unwell that they are unable to control their responses, and may be a danger to themselves or others

They may be suicidal or show suicidal tendencies

I feel like Rebecca wouldn’t go quite that far, but given that the latest leak that more or less involved Steven saying that he didn’t want to live anymore, I wouldn’t put it past her.

I was once hospitalised due to a mental health breakdown. I hated it, and I have trauma from the expirience. I only hope that Steven manages to avoid the worst of it.

Also... Why is he in a boat? It it the H.M.S Residual Trauma?

- Pasta

Ps. Sorry for not posting much, school went back and proceeded to kick me in the ass.