gotta catch 'em all. | nr | 957
harry takes louis on a pokemon adventure he won't forget.
Gotta Catch 'Em All by punchmelarry | G | 2259
Louis and Harry are distracted by Pokemon Go, just like everyone else. Louis can't believe how little Harry knows about Pokemon, and Harry can't believe how pretty Louis is.
You Teach Me (And I'll Teach You) by teaandtumblr | G | 3615
Zayn is a librarian who takes pride in the Pokemon Gym that is his workplace. That is, until a certain someone starts making a habit of winning it off him every damn day.
Give Me All Of Your Pokèballs by WritingProseAnythingGoes | T | 5309
"What do you mean by 'my house is on a PokeStop'? No, you cannot come in. I don't know who you are. Now please get off my property."
Louis bit his lip in frustration. This dude's house was the closest PokeStop he could find and he wouldn't let him even stand close enough to get more balls.
"C'mon, please? I can show you how to play too, you'd like it, especially because your house is dead center with the only PokeStop for miles." Louis begged.
The guy narrowed his eyes to slits, scrutinizing Louis closely.
"How do I know you aren't gonna murder me or some shit?"
Louis sighed plaintively. "Seriously, dude, just let me stand in your living room for ten minutes. I won't even move, I'll just stand there, but I swear to God I'm not gonna murder you. Please."
or, a short fic where Louis and Harry fall in love because Pokemon Go is a thing.
Of Thunder and Lightning [series] by gmartini | T | 5598
More than just the Pokémon spark up the battlefield when Niall Squared end up in the Pokemon League Championship match.
Take Me To Your Heart by dinosaursmate | E | 6112
Harry blinked at him for a second, and shit, they made eye contact.
“Never gonna give, never gonna give…” the man sang, pointing at Harry to sing the next line. “Come on, curly!”
Harry wasn’t sure whether or not to indulge him. He just wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew from experience that sometimes, ignoring lively drunks did not make the problem go away.
“Give you up.” Harry replied, before laying his head back against the window and closing his eyes.
“Yeah!” The man cried, and to Harry’s despair he sat down next to him. “Had a good night?”
“I’ve been working.” Harry mumbled, eyes still closed.
“Oh. I’ve got a few days off at the moment, so just been out with my mates. I’m Louis, by the way.”
---
London Night Bus AU where all Harry wants to do is sleep, but he has a drunk man singing at him.
here's to never growing up by weddingbells | M | 8195
Every year a ship leaves for Slateport City, Hoenn, carrying excited trainers and Pokémon ready for a new world. Louis Tomlinson hopes to be one of them. He just didn't expect the adventure to start as soon as he gets on that ship, but it does.
pokémon au [series] by dearmrsawyer | G | 22177
Harry gets a part-time job at the Pewter City Pokemon Centre to earn some money for his travels and Louis could not be less thrilled.
A Pokemon AU featuring OT5 friendship, the ethics of Pokemon training, and a few possible extra-terrestrials.
Just Me, Him, and the Sun and Moon by SadaVeniren | M | 45502
Alola!!
You have formally been chosen to participate in the FIRST EVER Pokemon World Championship Tournament. We have not made this selection lightly and have weighed your many years as a master pokemon trainer and pokemon friend in our decision to extend this offer to you! We hope that you will accept our offer and join us at the Hano Grand Resort on Akala Island!
The tournament will take place starting on May 15, but we request that you join us on May 13 to partake in an opening ceremony. The tournament will last two weeks, and accommodations will be provided for you and your pokemon, but transportation to the island will not (so bring a flying type!)
We hope you join us!!
Professor Kukui
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AKA a gratuitous Pokemon AU featuring farmer!harry, professor!louis, paradise, pokemon battles, love, and the fate of the world
at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
Artista: Avril Lavigne
Álbum: Avril Lavigne
Ano: 2013
Faixas/Tempo: 16/56min
Estilo: Alternative Rock/Pop Punk
Data de Execução: 16/08/2023
Nota: 5,0
Melhor Música: Here's To Never Growing Up
-Said by a sleep deprived Danny Phantom while in Clockwork’s Lair, about a hero displaced in time. Clockwork is in fact amused. Batman is simply confused about the entire situation.
I think it's so adorable that early humans took wild gourds - a tiny fruit that hollows out as it dries, making it float - and decided to make something out of it
they thought the tiny fruit was so good that they bred it for thousands of years, making it larger to form into bowls and cups, and different shapes to become bottles and spoons
and musical instruments
And then, people took the hollow gourds they farmed, and they turned them into houses for birds. We adapted them into the perfect houses for birds, and now there are specific breeds of birdhouse gourd just for making into birdhouses
And humans dedicated gardening space and time and thousands of years of breeding to make the gourds so absolutely perfect for birds, that there is a species of bird that lives almost exclusively in them
living weapon whumpee who's never known anything but pain and violence.
their existence hurts. they were made to be effective, not happy, and their masters decided that keeping them in constant pain provided better results. they're wilder, more unpredictable, and the pain keeps them from thinking straight enough to question anything.
they're only given painkillers, only allowed a respite from their seemingly endless suffering, after a successful mission. it keeps them loyal, and most importantly, teaches their brain to associate acts of violence with relief and rewards.
everyone they've ever met has treated them as a tool, a monster, or both. they don't know how to be anything else.
that is until they're rampaging through a village, destroying, killing, whatever their masters demand of them. whatever will give them a few blissful hours of numbness.
one of the villagers steps out of a ruined building and looks them straight in the eyes. whumpee expects fear, hatred, disgust, the things they see in the faces of every person who's ever crossed their path. but they see something completely different.
compassion.
whumpee is so stunned, they don't think to move or do anything at all as the villager steps closer, gently reaching out a hand to cup whumpee's face.
"oh, poor thing." they murmur, taking in the creature in front of them - part human, part animal, part machine. "they've done a number on you, huh?"
whumpee blinks at them. pain continues to course through their body, but the gentle hand on their cheek distracts them, even if just a little. all the indistinct noise in their foggy, addled mind finally goes quiet.
caretaker had stepped out in front of the being destroying their home with the intention to get through to it or die trying, and the expectation to absolutely die trying.
they did not at all expect the seemingly feral mishmash of metal, fur, and flesh to lean so heavily into their touch that they nearly collapsed into caretaker's arms.