#but that's besides the point tbh

[localtelephonebooth]

Here are my thoughts on the Pokémon wielder twink

Before you read: I did not proofread this. This is Tumblr. We ball. 

Since the recent update to Master Ex’s Mystery Stone storyline, there's been a small influx of people saying Volo abuses or is cruel to his Pokemon because he views them as “tools.” This is arguably wrong because he has so many Pokemon–Togepi, Budew, and Riolu (it can be argued Volo caught his Roserade and Lucario fully evolved, but I don’t think that changes the message of this post by much)–evolve via high friendship. I am not saying he does not treat his Pokemon as tools of sorts, but by no means is he abusive. I would argue that Volo treats his Pokemon like livestock, whereas trainers like Giovanni treat Pokemon as swords that need polishing. 

Farmers have to take good care of their animals to yield good produce. If you starve or beat your animals, the product the animal produces becomes poorer quality. As the saying goes: “A happy cow produces better milk.” I believe this logic can be applied to Pokemon as well. The better you care for your Pokemon, the stronger they are in battle. Volo more than likely understands this logic. Hence why his Togepi is quite happy. However, going back to the farmer analogy, it’s likely Volo views his Pokemon as end products. A farmer in the meat industry knows that their livestock will be sent to the abattoir. Does that mean they treat the livestock terribly because they're going to be slaughtered anyways? No. As discussed previously, treating animals terribly results in poorer quality product. It’s in everyone’s best interest to treat their animals well. Still, demands have to be met. In Volo’s case, the demand is reaching and potentially beating Arceus. I would not doubt that if a few of his Pokemon had to be sacrificed to reach this goal, he would do so without hesitation. That being said, Volo is not a cruel trainer. He’s just not treating his Pokemon as companions like the typical trainer.

Thanks for reading my post! Now, I want to state immediately that I am probably wrong on a few things. It’s possible I have completely misread the dynamic of Volo’s and his Pokemon. If I were to bring a counterpoint to my post, I would say Volo potentially treats his Pokemon like early man did with wolves. Early man domesticated wolves because they helped with hunting and other smaller jobs. The wolves, receiving food and protection, would stay alongside their human companion. I feel this matches the themes of Pokemon as a whole. It also explains why many of Volo’s Pokemon evolved from high friendship. Even if they’re “tools,” his Pokemon still work with him mutually. I feel this more strongly correlates with his sword and shield analogy, and his discussion on bonding through pure survival. Anyways, that’s all I have for now. I would love to hear everyone’s own opinions on Volo! He’s quite an interesting character who deserves more discussion.

[sandsorghum]

Clouds & Curtains

husband!Nanami x wife!reader

wc. 1.3k

summary. Perhaps Nanami's approach to...rousing you in the mornings has changed over the years.

tags. Established relationship, Domestic bliss | Romance | Smut | Body (& Soul)Worship | Mentions of Nanami wanting to be a father

a/n: Super soft, super indulgent piece. Have your cake and eat it nanami girlies. Sometimes i just need to write him a love letter ok

Prologue

Back when you'd just begun to be intimate with each other, Nanami tended to be a little embarrassed about his subconscious (but hardly subtle) desires for you. He would rather suffer his internal, infernal dilemma than disrupt your rest. But he couldn't quite control his urges, squirming between decency and depravity, not when you'd rub up against him, so innocuous and merciless.

It was a hard habit to shake; how Nanami felt he ought to earn your every quiver against him, every whimper, however much he yearned to feel you tremble at his moans at any given moment. It was codified in him, there was a time and a place and patterns to follow, before he could permit himself the pursuit of your shared pleasures.

Of course, you'd unveil him in the evenings, the privilege of your touch stripping bare the prerogatives of his flesh. You unraveled him, his reticence, his reasoning, his very capacity for speech, by braiding your breath and fingers with his, in the friction-begetting-friction tangle of your lips and limbs together.

Yet he still thinks of these mornings, that find the two of you entwined, as an undeserved luxury. So Nanami would do his best instead to focus on your face, how sweet your peaceful expression was. It would be wicked of him not to cherish this, he'd chastise himself for wanting more, for wanting to drown in your adoring gaze, for wanting to return it with his own hungry one, body and spirit beggared by the night, by the hours not spent beheld by you.

Nanami assumed the beauty and tenderness of your countenance would quell, or could sate his appetites, would tame the primal stirrings in his belly. But nothing could be further from the truth, in fact they had the opposite, compounding effect; a lump in his throat would rise, and his desperation would thicken till he could only helplessly rut his hips against you.

And then your eyelids would flutter open, and in the crease of your knowing smile, all his definitions, his distinctions, all that distance between need and greed would collapse with a single kiss.

Years later, and your husband is so absolutely shameless about his...early head starts to the day. He pulls you into him, snug against the cleft of your ass cheeks, content to let your scent and radiance seep through the thin fabric and warm him in a way the sun, in its reluctance behind the clouds and curtains, can never hope to.

He stares at the petulance drooping off the petals of your lips, rose bud coiled tight before daybreak can coax it to unfurl for strobes of gold. Nanami is a patient man, too patient you've often thought, yet you feel his phantom touch, a tender sweep of your mouth, a zephyr whispering in the wings, billowing brocade and swelling muslin, ghost pulling you through the gauze of sleep.

You shift against Nanami to hear him sigh your name, soft and distant, thick with slumber and affection and it's this which rouses you more, not merely his growing rigidity pressed to the curves of you. Although, it helps, feeling every inch of his hunger like this, in a slow swirl and pinch at your waist, the gentlest rocking as your breasts are cradled in his palms, familiar persuasion pebbling your areola. You know he dreams of them swollen with milk, that all your memories of his teeth are girded by the desire for them to be suckled by the most innocent of mouths, baring only gums and tiny wails. Your nubs stiffen and a small smile stretches across your face at the thought that with his wish to grow a family fulfilled, he might find also a small regret, of his monopoly of your mounds contested by another, to whom he owes the genesis of your body's generosity, that sweet fullness dribbling, stolen, into your husband's mouth, enticing in its envy.

This prospect of hypocrisy is to be savoured for another day, far down the road. This morning brings neither hesitation nor urgency, all syrupy light and his maple gaze, the languor of his limbs splayed around you to be treasured just as much as the gradual grind of his cock. There's a certain smugness in its slowness, as with the self-assuredness of his thumb circling a bare sliver of your skin.

A familiar motion that stirs a memory, fuchsia-tinted for the both of you. You remember your then boyfriend stammering and scarlet-tipped, matched to the rosy tips of his ears, excuses lost in the shuffle of sheets and stutter of hips.

"I-it's just-just the t-temp-ah-temperatuur," he'd slurred, the excuse as thin and transparent as the sticky film he laved across your throat, dangerously growing gossamer and feebler with every twitch and each strong buck against your body.

"Mmhmm," you'd hum, carnal ache turning you conciliatory. Such complacency. You had been the one to smirk back then, canines gleaming coy, as you offered ruin in the guise of reprieve.

"Want me to warm you up, darling?" Hands already reaching for him, mind already marveling before your fingers could be reacquainted with their hubris, his girth.

"P-please, anythin-nghing" he'd panted, all wide-eyed desperation to be devoured, sweet thing.

You'd been such a fool.

To not know not greed was a two-way street, this ravenous osmosis, this vicious ouroborous.

You think perhaps, in fact, you got the worse end of the deal, trembling against your spouse now, thighs clamped together.

"My dear," Nanami hums, a teasing timbre dripping honey as he sinks his fingers in, "always so ready for me."

You squirm, eyes screwed shut and fisting the sheets, trying to grasp the pale image of the boy who'd once writhed and blushed beneath you, a spectre all but vanquished. You miss him, sometimes.

You arch your back into Nanami, the way you know he's addicted to, just to hear him groan your name, ragged with the dregs of self-restraint or slumber, you're not sure which, but it's a close enough echo to send pleasure juddering through you, the recollection churning hot in your gut, of when he was wrapped around your finger, instead of your cunt around his.

"Sweetheart."

The tenderness of his tone pries your lids open. He doesn't have to ask, doesn't have to say anything but he does, because he knows you are too stubborn to ask for what you need to hear.

"My love."

He claims your gasp, in the crush and curl of his mouth, in the crook of his fingers.

"My girl."

Another smattering of kisses, chasing the flutters of your belly down, down, down to your creases weeping nectar. He licks a whine from you, pitching high into the air, his husky moan vibrating within you.

"My wife."

You feel the hot gust of Nanami's breath over your clit, as he pauses.

"My wife."

There's a reverence as he repeats himself, pathetic attempts to vanquish his disbelief, wonder glistening in his gold-flecked irises, staring at you in awe, searching for proof this isn't some frenzied fever dream of his.Of course, he finds it in your own unwavering eyes.

You've been such a fool.

There, in the locked gaze your shared history glimmers, that shy boy paralyzed by his worship of you, prostrate as the man before your parted legs now, offering his soul, his past, his future.

You reach for him, and he surges upwards. The collision is wave returning and rising from oceans, over and over, is starburst, is incandescence, is the fission of atoms never, ever meant to be split.

It burns away all notions of him as your acolyte or priest, any concept of deity and devotee.

"My life," he breathes into you, and you feel the throb in your ribs, the furnace of his lungs.

"My life," you repeat to your husband.

Adam. Prometheus. Kento.

This morning and many after, he lavishes you with irreverence, a ravishing of irrelevance; his goddess, his woman, his joy -all that matters is that you are his and he is yours; Together, you forge a paradise that exists for as long as the melding of your souls persist, boundless as horizons and sure as sunrises.

@houseofsolisoccasum

[solargeist]

modern au but its little grian and his Watcher family

[osinthewhite]

I cannot get those two out of my head

[juniperpyre]

i refuse to reblog the post but the screenshot from twitter or somewhere that;s like "threesomes shouldn't only be for sex. why can't i join a couple's argument?" is sooo sirius to jily. and it's also lily to wolfstar

[bestjeanistmonster]

The irony in dc au of Sonic rescuing 4 year old Tails from a circus and then 4 years later Sonic being brought into the criminal circus and becoming an evil clown is tragic but i also think it’s hilarious

Like. The poor guy just can’t win with circus stuff 😭

[andsorrowsend]

I think wwdits fans are some of the whiniest little bitches on the planet lmao you guys suck(not in either of the fun ways)

[fluffypotatey]

*puts on my Professor glasses* Macky really knows EXACTLY how to talk to Wukong, let's dissect it! M: Looks like things are going smoothly. W: I say, you've been here the whole time, haven't you? M: FFM is your home, but it's also mine. W: Did you find anything? M: Still nothing, however. Now the Jade Emperor is no longer present. The Celestial Realm already gives me an unsettling feeling. M: Wukong...that kid. W: I understand. M: You have to go and talk to him. W: I know! But...he still isn't ready. M: I see. You're the one who isn't ready, yet. How did you even become a teacher! M: He has to be. We all have to be realistic. W: He's just a kid. We can't let him... M: Who says he's just a kid! Why is it him? When you chose him, did you know? W: I didn't know, I really didn't know! I just followed...a feeling. M: Are you not the least bit worried?! This child has all of your special powers, and he always runs into trouble. Have you never questioned this before? Not a single person knows where he came from. Is it not strange?! M: We still have no clue as to whoever let out Azure Lion. All your old foes returned in one swoop. Are you not even a little- W: Then what about you? You also suddenly came back. M: Argh- M: I say, someone must be manipulating us behind our backs. Especially Xiaotian. But they still haven't succeeded. W: Then tell me. What about you? M: Tell me do you want my help or not?! / W: Not long ago you were still against me! / M: I see, you're just a- / W: ...after I assume you'll teach me how to train my own disciples? ~ Xiaotian Interupts ~ M: Look. That kid has made you his idol. You're his one true hero, but you... W: But I what? M: He has to understand, he doesn't need to carry these burdens. You have to do better. You can really tell whose the chatty one in this relationship XD Wukong might be a lil annoyed, but he's tolerant. And Macky is a little playful turd as always. Where Wukong gets gloomy and concerned, Mac swaps between teasing and serious in a blink. Then things get a lot more strained and tense, but unlike their previous fights, it never escalates into violence. Never a growl, never a raised fist. They're right at the edge, and they drop it. I'm very much interested in the psychology of arguments and when it comes to people latching onto (1) thing a person says and relating it slightly off topic to avoid talking about that other thing, like Wukong is doing here. It's so cool seeing how physical they are in trying to visibly control their emotions around each other, and how they keep trying to hold themselves back from tearing in further, always pausing and halting, and switching to another thing. They're TRYING. Ugh. I think Mac was trying to give a comforting smile at the end, but it's kinda warped by the whole ~ everything else. ~ Anyhow, I like how this starts with Wukong establishing, or rather cementing to Macaque that he believes MK is a kid. And while Macaque argues against that, he did also say before that Wukong should talk to him. And they have their squabble, with Mac pushing Wukong's buttons to get him to say something, BUT the fact this gets resolved with he needs to understand he doesn't need to carry these burdens. YOU HAVE TO DO BETTER. Like of all things Mac could have chosen. He's playing right into what Wukong himself believes, that will overwrite the "MK isn't ready" thing. Because let's face it. Mac is right when he says Wukong also isn't ready for that talk yet. He's so down throughout all this, Wukong probably feels himself that he needs to be better. AND by appealing to the fact MK is a kid, without explicitly stating that, just a statement that cannot be denied, BUT is a subject that undoubtedly, even Wukong cannot avoid. Because he wants better for MK. For him to not walk down the same path as him. Macaque has basically nudged Wukong into having that talk he wanted with MK by reframing it differently from what Wukong wasn't ready for. Thoughts? Critique?

*squishes you* anon…anon, you’re telling me..that this was the actual dialogue between SWK and Macky in 5x01. that what i just read is the translated version of the Mandarin dub. correct?

ok ok cool. i’m cool. gucci. feeling fantastic lemme just

WHAT THE FUCK LMK

ok so i ranted in the tags but realized i forgot to say more things (also i was worried i’d exceed the tag limit bc that is a real thing what do you know!)

so, anon, you said Macky knows how to talk to Wukong and yeah agreed but for me it’s for of the sense of “Macky knows how to get his words under Wukong’s skin”

he knows how to let his words sink in and fester in Wukong’s mind, making him reconsider things or another to help speed up certain decisions or choices Wukong is hesitating on. and ain’t it fascinating how despite how long it’s been since either character have talked or interacted with each other, they still know the ins and outs of their behavior and thoughts.

Macky knows Wukong needs to talk to MK but is holding back. Macky after one answer from Wukong realizes that it’s Wukong who isn’t ready for that conversation and switches tactics to try and breach that mental block

Wukong, in a need to avoid the conversation, brings up the questions surrounding Macky’s reason for even being alive again because that is information neither have talked about and oh hey! Macky is avoiding that conversation too! and it’s an important one to have so he pushes for it, but Macky knows it’s being pushed to avoid their original discussion and is annoyed bc “classic Wukong, never wanting to delve too deep into topics where he’ll need to be vulnerable for” (especially when said vulnerability is with his newly re-allied ex friend Macaroni himself)

god i love them

[alterouslyinlove]

i love him so bad it makes me look STUPID

[milkweedman]

A customer just came into the store, asked what i was making (knitting a square for my handspun scrap blanket), and then told me it was very impressive to see people practicing dead crafts, and that it must be hard to recreate it from old manuscripts and museum pieces.

She left before i could say its not a dead craft--it's still being improved on and practiced by more people than one might think !

The most ancient of human handcrafts isnt gonna die out that quickly...

[ranticore]

i don't think having marginalised characters necessarily has to mean anything and I certainly don't care about Representation but that aside the best thing i can do with my trans characters is to use them for srs propaganda

[fandomsoda]

I know the people waiting on my preexisting UTMV things are probably very frustrated that these little shits are eating up my brain space right now but I refuse to stop, I’m having fun

First proper drawing of any of the critters, hopefully will get around to doing the rest of em

[exltwounds]

i'd literally die for another tour in europe rn just because i need some but i also genuinely hope there won't be another anytime soon and just to say goodbye friend or whatever to an album that's been overmilked and has already been played on multiple tours for three years non stop yk lol

[androidboy]

gf has been in a bad mood lately and she’s coming over tonight and ngl i’m a lil anxious about it. i’m a sensitive boy rn i need to be treated real niceys

[travalerray]

I love the Twin Heroes/Twin Prides promise because not only does Wei Wuxian claim that they would grow up to be sect leader and subordinate just like their fathers but also just like Gusu has its Twin Jades, Yunmeng would have its Twin Prides.

And considering how both the compared to relationships went, it's very ironic

[kirboner]

look i know everyone gets heated when the 'was neji right about fate' debate comes up but can we at least acknowledge that on a meta level, neji obtaining free will or whatever could have been exemplified a little better if he hadn't fucking died. Because c'mon. It's pretty convenient that neji's dad died protecting the head family--oh wait no i mean he chose to protect his brother--and neji himself dies protecting the head fa--no wait guys he chose to protect hinata. Did neji's speech in the chuunin exams overemphasize how important someone's innate abilities/status are? Yeah, I guess so, but to act like those factors don't have a huge impact on your life, even if you're challenged in other ways, is ignorant.

My point is if kishimoto really wanted to drive home that your destiny is your own making, he should have subverted neji's destiny, and even the fate's of some of the other secondary characters. Is it entirely a coincidence that every hokage has been connected, somehow, to the previous? The biggest lie in the series is that anyone, regardless of background or innate ability, can become the hokage. Could there ever be a series where Hinata, a member of the head family, sacrifices herself for neji? One where rock lee, konohamaru, kiba, etc. become hokage? Clearly not, since from the very beginning naruto was destined to be the hokage, and hinata was born the princess of the hyuga clan. Even if everybody's choices and efforts happened to result in this ending rather than some divine fate, that doesn't matter. Neji was still entirely right about the limits placed on people from birth, especially within the shinobi structure.