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guppyfish77 · 3 days ago

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So about the Battle Subway Trains

Hi, I love trains! And the Trains in Unova have a surprising amount of detail? And nobody talks about it? And if I don't talk about it I will explode!?!!!

So despite Unova being inspired by New York you'd think the Battle Subway Trains would be based on The New York Subway Trains? However they look like they are more based on Japanese Railway Trains!

I'd like to preface before going into this that despite talking a lot about the Japanese Railway, I am not Japanese, while I did my best to research as best I can, some stuff may fly over my head, I also used an online translator for some information so it might not be 100% accurate.

Alrighty lets get into this! This is mainly for fun and its going to be under the Read More because it is verrrrrrrrry long, I hope that you enjoy!

If you aren't aware, each train in the Battle Subway has lore! All the lore comes from this Worker NPC on the bridge in Anville Town. Depending on the day, a different train will show up on the turntable, and he'll give you a little dialogue for that train! This dialogue is what I'll be mainly analyzing :]

Single and Anville Town Trains:

"This is a Single Train! It's the oldest train in the Battle Subway. It's for a loop line to go around the Unova region! Do you know Tubeline Bridge? The train that runs on it is this Single Train."

"As you know, this is a local train to Anville Town! Isn't it just so cute? This one is a little slow and heavy. When it runs, the whole train sways. The train car is the same model as a Single Train. Because it is an old train car, I hear the maintenance is hard, but it's the one I always ride, because I loved it as a kid!"

So! The Single and Anville Town Trains are the same model of train, you can actually see this in their designs where they both share the same face but they differ in the livery. (Livery is a term referring to the train's decor/color, the color is often associated with a particular company or in this case a particular train line.) I'm going to use this fact to assume that if one train has one feature, then it's likely that the other train also has that same feature. Such as how the description of the Anville Town Train says it sways as it runs, if that is the case then the Single Train also probably sways. (which sounds kind of awful to battle on, unless you have good train legs I suppose X_X)

It is stated that the Single Train is the oldest in the Battle Subway. I believe though, that it means the oldest train that is currently running in the Battle Subway. As there is another train that seems much older and no longer running, but I'll get to that train much much later.

Older trains are indeed harder to maintain, and expensive too. This is because the older the equipment, the harder it is to get its parts as they become more obsolete. Though I will say this, trains can last a long time! The average service life of a train is about 30-50 years, it really varies from train to train. These trains would most likely be on the older side.

There is a slight possibility that it has been continued to be maintained past it service life. Given how fond the Worker NPC talks about the train, it might have high sentimental value. Therefore if it is past its service life, it has not been scrapped or recycled yet because of it. I doubt this is the case though, usually it is never worth the maintenance cost (especially for regular operation.)

Like the description says, you can see the Single Train running on the Tubeline Bridge, here's a video of it! Apologies for the way I am recording this, I don't exactly have a capture card, but I wanted to show you guys regardless

You can see how fast the train is going as it passes below you! At least the just Singles Train anyways, seems to me like it's going about 20-30mph? I tried doing math to find the exact speed but that's difficult for several reasons (no idea how large a "tile" in Pokemon really is and objects in the overworld are not very accurate in size so I can't exactly do any comparisons. The perspective of the camera also makes it tricky.) Given how the Anville Train is described as "slow and heavy", I would hazard a guess to say that the other trains of the Battle Subway may run faster than this.

You can also see that each train is made up of 7 cars as it passes below you if you slow down the footage. Which is not surprising, you have to win 7 battles in a row to complete a "set" where you are then dropped off at a rest stop. I believe the Battle Subway trains to be electrical multiple units (EMUs) so it would probably make them 7-car sets.

It also looks like the Singles Line is very busy with the trains only being seconds apart! Now I know this is more a visual thing so the environment would be interesting to look at, but I'd like to think it indicates that the Battle Subway/Singles Line is very popular! (and very well organized!)

As for Real life train inspirations I think perhaps the Tobu 10030 series?

The Tobu 10030 is a version of the Tobu 10000 series with some minor changes, such as the design of the face and using a bolsterless bogie. (Bogie is a part of the train that refers to a frame that holds sets of wheels as well as the suspension, breaks, etc. in which the body of the train car rests upon.)(A bolster is a part that connects the side frames of the bogie and the underside of the car's central pivot point.)(A bolsterless bogie is a bogie type that doesn't have a bolster). The front of the train is covered in fiber reinforced plastic and the outer panels are "bead molded" (which... I have no clue what that means...) This series has been going under renovations since 2010.

Double Train:

"This car is a Double Train! This is a mass-produced car from a decade ago! Compared to a Single Train, the number of parts was reduced so it could be built for a lower cost. The number of parts influences the budget and construction time. The streamlined and beautiful design of the Double Train is still valued today."

So the Double Train is at least 10 years old! (That's what decade means!) Honestly though, I think the Double Train might be older than 10, in Japanese the description just says that it is a "mass-produced train from a long time ago" and doesn't mention a number... Another reason is that in the Multi Train description, it mentions that it is a test model for future trains that will replace the Double Trains. Which means perhaps that the Double Trains may be reaching near the end of its service life, which again average 30-50 years. It could be a possibility that this train may have a shorter service life than usual, who knows. This all speculation really.

As for lowering the amount of parts, from what I found it makes the train lighter. It would also probably lower the cost as well like the description says (trains are really really expensive to build! EMUs can cost $2mil-$10mil per car!)

It also mentions that it is a mass-produced car! It's a train made with mass production for commercial purposes! I believe it's usually for train lines that are really busy, where they would need a lot of trains? It typically means that there are a lot of them. (All this makes me wonder about train production in the Pokemon World...)

As for Real life inspirations, I think that the Double Train is inspired by the Tokyu 1000 series train.

The Tokyu 1000's design and equipment is similar to another train, the Tokyu 9000 series, with improvements such as improved handling and making it easier to do inspection and repair work. As well as reducing the amount of spare parts from the Tokyu 9000.

Multi Train:

"This car is a Multi Train! Few cars of this model were produced. This is a test car to develop future mass-produced cars that will replace the old Double Trains. The technology born during the creation of this train car made the Super Single Train and Super Double Train possible!"

The multi train is a test/prototype train! A little surprised that an entire line is running off a few prototypes. Like the description says, not many are produced as the purpose of a prototype is to test features and improve upon them if needed before they are put into mass production. Given that it says the technology from this train was the reason the Super Single and Super Double Train was made possible. I'm thinking it was most likely testing some eco friendly features? As it is the Super Single and Super Double Train's main feature.

Perhaps them using a model with so few trains means that the Multi line isn't that busy/popular? (Surprising then the train platform is not swarming with more train photographers haha!)

As for real life inspirations, while the livery may not be the same I think it could be the Keisei 3000 (2nd Generation.)

The Keisei 3000's body is made of lightweight stainless steel and the passenger doors have a paper honeycomb structure. When they were designing this train, they wanted it to be both environmentally (energy saving) and customer friendly (being accessible to elderly and those with disabilities.)

Super Single and Super Double Trains:

"This Super Single Train is a new mass-produced car! It's an environmentally friendly train, because they revised all the parts to drastically reduce power consumption! Newer trains have to be built in a way that's both functional and environmentally friendly. Compared to the past, they've improved significantly."

"This Super Double Train is a new mass-produced car! Such a streamlined and refined design! Beauty and utility working together! That kind of beautility is unique to mass-produced train cars! It uses the same train car as a Super Single Train. The only difference is the appearance. It is a superb train car that will go down in the history of the Battle Subway!"

The Super Single and Super Double Trains are the same model. Honestly the description of these trains doesn't give me a lot of information besides the fact that these trains are eco friendly. So I'll talk about what trains do to make themselves (even more) eco friendly!

They are stated to be eco friendly by reducing power consumption. I think it could be referring to a "VVVF inverter control" (it stands for variable voltage variable frequency. In English its mainly called the VFD or variable frequency drive.) A VVVF is a type of system for an AC motor that can reduce energy consumption! (There are two types of electrical current, DC or Direct Current and AC or Alternate Current. An AC motor is a motor that is driven by AC electricity.) It is important on energy saving trains! I won't get too much into how it works, but essentially it controls the AC motor's rotational speed by controlling the frequency. By controlling these, it can control the speed and acceleration of a train. You'll find that a VVVF is often paired with a three phase motor (I will not go into that...) Let's just say that these systems are very efficient at using power and help save energy.

Really, reducing power consumption usually means being more efficient at using power. Like using LEDs, using better insulation to retain cooling or heating, and generally using parts that use less electricity. It could be that the train is lighter in weight too (lighter vehicles use less power.)

Both of these Super Trains are mass produced! Which tells me that there are a lot of Super Single and Super Double trains! Its lines are probably busy.

As for real life inspirations, it is very much inspired by the E233-2000 series train

The E233-2000 is a little bit of an oddball in the E233 family exterior design wise. Its design was inspired by the Tokyu 5000 series. Its basic running equipment is the same as the E233 trains before it though.

I think it is a bit of a stretch, but I'll mention it anyways. The E233 (which the E233-2000 is a subsection of) is a train that has won the Laurel Award in 2007. The Laurel Award is an award given to trains by the Japan Railway Friends Association for trains with an excellence in technology and design (specifically geared towards commuter trains.) It could be what all the "beautility" comments could be referencing to? They do look verrry different though, and the E233-2000 came after the award was given...

Super Multi Train:

"This train car is a Super Multi Train! This is the latest train car! Improved acceleration and deceleration! Automated train-car controls! It's full of cutting-edge technologies. Also, a regeneration brake system, a car-body tilting system, a whatchamacallit system, a thingamabob system... I don't remember all the details, but it's just a big festival of all the latest technology!"

Ohhoho! The Super Multi Train description is a goldmine of details! This train is the whole reason I wanted to make this post! Let's run through its features!

Improved acceleration and deceleration means that it can run between stops faster, allowing for quicker operation time.

Automated train-car controls or ATC is a safety system on trains that prevents trains from going over a certain speed! If the train goes over the maximum speed permitted then the ATC will pull the brakes automatically to reduce the speed and release the brakes when it is below maximum speed. It also displays the maximum speed to the driver. It is an incredibly important safety system!! From what I understand, the term ATC is very common in Japan, in other countries the ATC would simply be a part of cab signaling (it is a safety system mainly for the driver and train crew, it tells them track status and condition information) and train protection technologies. ATC is installed on all Shinkansen trains, it is also installed in some subways and heavily used railways.

Here's an example of what it looks like! The green triangle there is the (current) maximum speed. There are a lot of different types of ATC systems and this ones a D-ATC (stands for Digital Automatic Train Control) from within an E233! There are a whole lot of different types of ATC, and they can come in many looks! I would show more examples, however, I have hit the image limit on this post... :[

A regenerative brake system is a special type of breaking that allows a train to generate electricity via breaking! The electricity can either be used immediately, stored, or returned back into the line. You might've heard this feature on electric or hybrid cars. It is a common eco friendly feature!

A car-body tilting system is a feature in trains that allows the body of the train car to tilt into a curve! It allows the train to go faster on a track (not needing to slow down on a curve) but the feature is mainly for passenger comfort! When you ride, you don't feel the centrifugal force at all when going around a curve! And it makes the ride so smooth! Here's a short video demonstrating what it looks like:

youtube

There are essentially two major ways to do a car body tilting system. There is active tilting (forced body tilting) or passive tilting (pendulum system). A forced body tilting system uses computers to tilt the train using track data or sensors, telling the train when and how much to tilt. If the calculation is not done correctly, it can leave passengers with motion sickness (An infamous example is the Advanced Passenger Train in the UK). The tilting itself I believe is done via hydraulics. Forced Body Tilting is more popular in European and American trains.

As for passive tilting, the train in the video uses it! (A controlled pendulum train!) It means it uses natural forces to tilt the train car. I'll dive deeper into this type of tilting in the Wi-Fi train section because it actually mentions it's a pendulum train! As to which tilting type the Super Multi train has... it could honestly be either.

(Ah! I forgot to mention this, but tilting trains are especially useful in mountainous regions, where there are a lot of curves.)

In the Japanese version of the Super Multi description, it also mentions that it has a "earthquake warning system" and a "tornado monitoring system".

An earthquake warning system is not something fully installed into the train, rather it's mainly a set of sensors installed along the track, coast, and major inland areas. For passenger rail, if any signs of an earthquake are detected, it will alert any trains in the affected area and drivers are required to apply their emergency brakes. For shinkansen trains it will cut off power to the affected area which will automatically activate the emergency brakes.

Well, I found something close to a tornado warning system. There is a "gust warning system" where sensors measure wind speed and to predict where strong gusts of wind would go. Again, it's not a system that is installed within the train. From what I could tell, they would restrict travel speed during strong winds. If wind speeds are too high, then they would shut down the lines. (I suppose would be very useful, especially when there's some legendaries that cause powerful storms roaming around.)

In the Japanese version of the text, it also states that the Super Multi Train is also a test train. Which again means there's also not a lot of this train. It also states that some of it's features are unnecessary due to it being a test train lol

In the description all these features are stated as "cutting edge" and "a festival of all the latest technology" when these features are not all that new? And Regenerative breaking seems to be pretty common? (Every irl train I have shown thus far all have it.) Eh, I don't think it's that big of a deal. They are just fictional trains after all.

I originally thought the train looked like an Eizan Railway Deo 800 series, but thanks to the leaks, it looks like that the JR East 205-500 was used as a base to design the Super Multi Train? With probably heavy modification to the final design. (While I don't condone the method that these leaks were obtained, curiosity did get the better of me. This is the only train that I ID-ed this way.)

This Train was exclusive to the Sagami Line, though it ended operation in 2022 and every one of these trains have been scrapped. The blue color I believe is an homage to the Sagami River that runs along the line. The Train used a semi automatic door system for its passenger doors. Which means that rather than the conductor opening and closing the doors, the passengers would press a button to open the door when the train has stopped.

Wi-Fi Train:

"This train car is a Wi-Fi Train! It is the fastest long-distance high-speed train in the Battle Subway! This is called a pendulum car. Its body tilts while going around curves, so it can run without slowing down! Faster! Farther! Our engineers' spirits are infused in it!"

A pendulum car is a very specific term!!! Like I mentioned in the Super Mutli Train section it is a type of car body tilting. There are multiple types of Pendulum systems, There is Natural Pendulum, Controlled Pendulum, Air Spring (also called Simple Pendulum), and Hybrid.

Natural Pendulum is just using the centrifugal force of when it goes around a curve to tilt the train. This type was known to cause motion sickness in riders because when it straightened out, the car would "lag" or wobble. Sometimes the force was not enough to tilt the train and this would also cause passenger discomfort. These issues were fixed later with a controlled pendulum, where there would be a degree of control to the tilting. Using mechanisms similar to forced body tilting, it would prevent wobble and ease the tilt. The air spring method, as suggests in the name, uses air springs to help with tilting. It is similar to the controlled pendulum, though it tilts less than it (controlled pendulum can tilt 6 degrees and air springs can only tilt 2 degrees). Air springs are cheaper to build though and still are able to make the train go faster. Hybrid is the combination of controlled pendulum and air springs, allowing for an 8 degree tilt.

I hope the Wi-Fi train is not a natural pendulum? You're telling me you have to battle on that and you might get motion sickness?? Though it sounds like it might be more high tech so it is most likely the other types... Hopefully...

It also states that this train is the "fastest long-distance high-speed train in the Battle Subway!" Looking at Japan's tilting trains (that are not shinkansen), they go about 120kmh-130kmh (about 75 mph-81 mph.) So it could be a possibility that the Wi-Fi goes something along those speeds.

I've looked through Japan's tilting trains, and the closest one might be the JR Hokkaido Kiha 201 series? It's not at all close though... I can't really find a good match tbh. I think the 113 series seems to be a bit more closer visually.

The one on the left is a Kansai livery and the right is a JR Shikoku livery. They are both the same train, JR Shikoku bought the 113 series from JR East to replace some aging trains and then modified it. Which is why they look a bit different. The modifications include strengthening the front of the train and adding shock absorbing material inside.

So Those are all the trains that run in the Battle Subway! However there are 2 trains that don't, instead they only show up in Anville Town on certain days. I'll be calling them "Old Train Car" and "Futuristic Train Car"

"Old Train Car"

"This train car is the kind that ran a long time ago. Compared to contemporary train cars, it has more parts, so I heard it was difficult to build. The old train cars built with lots of small parts have their own unique beauty and attract a lot of fans. Those cars no longer run in the Battle Subway, but I hear they're still used in a faraway region. Ah... I'd love to be on that train!"

So this sort of car used to run on the Battle Subway. It's said to be still running in another region, though with how old the train looks I can only think that maybe it would be running by railway preservationists.

The design of this train reminds me a lot of old Japanese electric trains and trams. Especially trams with that double roof. I don't think it's really based on any particular vehicle? Here's a couple that I found;

The only one I feel like is worth mentioning is the Jomo Electric Railway Deha 101 (this specific car is the Deha 101, others of its kind are called Deha 100 type) and the Nagasaki Electric Railway 160 type. Both of these vehicles I believe are still running to some capacity.

The Jomo Deha 101 has been running for over 90 years. While car 101 still resides at Jomo Railway, other Deha 100s have been transferred to other private companies where they have been scrapped. I believe the only existing Deha 100s today are Car 101 and Car 104 (which has been painted bright yellow.)

The Nagasaki Electric Railway 160 type used to belong to the Kyushu Electric Tramway where it was called the Type 1 Electric Tram. When it was transferred to the Nagasaki Electric Railway it was renamed into the 160 type. Today, there is a single car in operation. I believe it is the oldest wooden car in Japan that is still in service.

I suppose I will also mention the Keifuku Electric Railway Mobo 21 Type Train, it does look the most similar. Though, it's purposefully designed to look like an old style tram.

"Futuristic Train Car"

"This train car is a new train to run in the future! Wooo! Cool! Super cool! The latest motor breathes fire! Uh-oh, if it really breathed fire, that would be bad! But it is full of the latest technologies! It's undergoing a lot of testing. It's called a gauge-convertible train. It's a sweet car that can adjust its wheels to run on any rail!"

So first off, I'd like to say that this train visually kind of looks like a "Sonic" 883 series (nothing to do with the blue hedgehog, it was just a coincidence lol)

However the description!!!! A "gauge convertible train" that is undergoing a lot of testing... That description matches exactly with the GCT! (literally standing for Gauge Change/Convertible Train, though in Japanese it's called FGT or Free Gauge Train!)

The GTC is the project name for this experimental shinkansen. The one in the picture is the GTC-01, the second generation of its kind (as this is the version they would be testing before and during the development of the game, there is now a 3rd generation.) So, the term gauge refers to the distance between the two rails. Different trains run on different gauges, they can come in either narrow gauge, standard gauge, or wide gauge. Japan's rail network is mostly narrow gauge (specifically Cape Gauge.) The main exception are the shinkansen trains, which run on standard gauge. This shinkansen like the description says would be able to run on any gauge. It used to be under a lot of testing by the Free Gauge Train Technology Research Association. Today though, the GTC-01 second generation sits on display in the Shikoku Railway Heritage Museum.

There are a lot of challenges that the GTC faces. It takes a bit of time for the wheels to adjust to the gauge and you need to go slower when it's doing so. It has increased maintenance costs. The heavier specialized bogie creates more wear on the rails as well as making the train harder to detect. (Ok! Basic explanation for Railway Signaling! Tracks are split up into sections called "blocks", and a small electrical current is run between the two tracks that makes up the block. When a train runs through, the wheel and axle of the train disrupts the current, which then the system detects that block as being occupied by a train. If it is occupied, the signal lights at the end of the block will be turned red, preventing other trains from entering the same block, thus preventing collisions. The problem arises in the GTC in that the wheel and the axle are separate, thus something about this is making it hard to detect on the rail.)

With this train being a "gauge change train" it really made me wonder what gauge the Battle Subway trains runs at? I thought maybe standard gauge or maybe even wide gauge because you can only make the train so wide depending on the gauge. And you'd probably want it wider so that there is more room, especially if you are fitting a battle arena in it! However in Japanese the description mentions that "The rails are a little wider on the tracks that run at higher speeds." Which is... exactly how Japanese rail works? So the Battle Subway lines are probably narrow gauge?

Another thing that's interesting about the "Futuristic Train" is the date that it actually shows up. In Anville Town the way that each train shows up is dependent on the last digit of the day of the month, like so:

0- (10th, 20th, and 30th) "Old Train Car"

1- (1st, 11th, 21st, and 31st) Single Train Car

2- (2nd, 12th, and 22nd) Double Train Car

3- (3rd, 13th, and 23rd) Multi Train Car

yada yada you get the point (4- Super Double Train, 5- Super Single Train, 6- Super Multi Train, 7- Anville Town Train, 8- Nothing, 9- Wi-Fi Train)

The only exception is the "Futuristic Train" who will show up ONLY on February 1st, June 12th, October 1st, October 14th, and December 30th, pretty random huh? haha of course not! These dates are dates significant to the History of Japanese Railway/Transportation!

February 1st: The opening of Japan's first electric street car in 1895!

June 12th: The temporary operation of Japan's first passenger railway in 1872!

October 1st: The release of Japan's first Shinkansen, the series 0 in 1964!

October 14th: The official opening of Japan's first passenger railway in 1872, with the first two stations between Shimbashi and Yokohama! This day is also Railway Day in Japan, celebrating this event, Tokyo holds a Railway Festival and train companies like to do events on this day as well!

December 30th: The opening of Japan's first subway line in 1927, The Ginza Line!

Rails, Station Platform, and More Train:

So the Station, there are a few details I can pick up on here!

The type of track that the trains run on (at least in the station) are ballastless tracks! It means the rail is tied directly onto a slab of concrete rather than having ballast hold it up (ballast is that rocky gravel that you often see beneath the tracks.) This type of track is quite expensive to build and makes the place a lot nosier, but it has a lot of advantages! For one, because there is no ballast to maintain, it has lower maintenance cost (ballast must be packed every now and again using a ballast tamping machine. Which lifts the track and jostles the ballast beneath it. Ballast also needs to be replaced after a while because the rocks have to be irregularly shaped for it to work, and natural weathering can make them smooth out.) It is also easier to clean and has a longer lifespan. Because the rail is tied to slabs of concrete the rails are less prone to deformation, which is good! Though it is also that same inflexibility means that it is difficult to change anything about it and takes longer to repair.

Their buffer! (that little black thing at the end of the line, I think it is a buffer?) It doesn't look like that effective of a buffer... The purpose of a buffer is to stop a train if brakes fail. Though this thing seems to be more for the driver telling them where the end is, hence all the, what I presume are, lights. Let's hope they have some sort of other safety system in place (like some sort of Automatic Train Stop system.)

There doesn't seem to be a third rail. I have a feeling that might be because most Japanese railway trains are powered via overhead wire (literally every irl train I have shown is powered this way.) Maybe the Battle Subway trains might be powered via overhead wire? I might be over analyzing here, they might not have thought of modeling such a small detail haha

The train itself has some sort of device on top (that box thing.) I believe it to be some sort of air conditioning unit. Given how each train car has one large unit on top of it, I believe that it uses a centralized cooling system, which means there is one large air conditioning unit. (There are 2 other types, they are distributed cooling which consists of 6-8 small units and centralized distributed which consists of a couple of medium sized units.) Central cooling systems are easier to install and maintain because there is only one unit to worry about.

Signboards:

The Buildings in between routes have a electronic news bulletin board, and depending on which city is connected to it, the news bulletin will give a little flavor text about the city. There's some flavor text about the Battle Subway when it's about Nimbasa City, and it different depending on whether you are playing the first one or the second one, here they are:

"Run and battle! Trains never stop!” Battle Subway in Nimbasa City"

"They say someone who loved battles also happened to be a railway maniac, and thats why we now have the battle subway"

So, this might be a coincidence, but there is an old name that Japanese Train Fans used to call themselves. The name was "Railway Mania" (鉄道マニア direct translation). It was used up until the 1950s. Today it's seen as a derogatory term but it was used very commonly back in its heyday (even more popular than "railfan" apparently.) I think it is kind of interesting that the term "Railway Maniac" was chosen for this flavor text and I wonder if it has anything to do with this old name. However, I say it might just be a coincidence because the term "Maniac" is not unheard of word in Pokemon (Item Maniac, Poke Maniac, Hex Maniac, etc.) But regardless, there's that little fun fact for you!

B2W2

“Get on a train and fight!” Battle Subway in Nimbasa City"

"The energy generated by heated Pokémon battles is the fuel that keeps the Battle Subway running"

I'm going to get a little headcanon-y here. We can interpret this figuratively, as in if there are no battles then its not really a Battle Subway is it? But I think it would be fun to interpret it literally! What if Pokemon Moves could get absorbed somehow to power the Train? And if the Train doesn't need it it could go into the line to power something else in the Subway! I think that would be cool :]

Extra Stuff:

●I think the Battle Subway Map could also be inspired by JR East's rail map, the main reason is the single lines (dark green) which goes in a loop around the Unova Region...

Reminds me of the Yamanote Line (light green) which also goes in a loop connecting a variety of major stations together in Tokyo and is a very very important line!

●While I do believe Gear Station is inspired by New York's Grand Central Station, I do think there's a lot of design elements taken from Tokyo Station as well

●The gray bodies of the Anville, Single, Doubles, and Multi cars are probably meant to represent an exposed steel/aluminum body rather than the ones painted white like the Super Trains.

●In the Anime, the trains are said to have an ATO system, this is also a real system, it stands for Automatic Train Operation. It's a system that allows a computer to control when the train stops and goes with no driver involved! I don't think that the trains in the games run on an ATO system though, as there are Depot Agents who talk about train driving (Depot Agent Cameron who says "I’m good at driving, but I’m not good at dealing with Pokemon." at the start of battle, and a way more obscure Depot Agent whom you can talk to on the platform after 14 wins on a Super Train who says "I’d rather have an exciting battle than slowly drive the train.")

●In the Anime, there's a stamp rally, which is a real thing! There are station stamps in Japan which tourists can collect. Though, occasionally Pokemon will collaborate with JR East to create a Pokemon Stamp Rally! The most recent is this Pokemon Horizons Stamp Rally promoting the show! Here's a map of what stamps you can collect at each station and the prizes you can get!

●In the Nacrane city library there is a book that mentions that Nacrane used to have steam locomotives running through it!

"This book is about the things you can ride in the Unova region, such as Castelia City’s cruise ship and Mistralton City’s planes. Before there were planes, locomotives carried people all over Unova. The railway in Nacrene City is a legacy of those lines." (B2W2)

What kinds of Steam Locomotives? I suppose we will never know, as we never see one in game.

●There's an Roughneck NPC you can talk to at Tubeline Bridge in B2W2 where he says

"Watch it! People use “railway fan” as a catchall term, but there are many types of railway fans! There are riding fans, detraining fans, station fans, train-car fans, schedule-table fans, picture-taking fans, recording fans, and more! Don’t go thinking they’re all the same!" (B2W2)

So in Japanese, Railway is Tesudo (鉄道, testu 鉄- Iron and do 道-Road) and a Railway Fan is Tesudofan, however fans will abbreviate to just Testu and stick what aspect of trains they enjoy with it, so like 乗り鉄 (Nori 乗り-Ride, 鉄-tetsu) as a Train Riding Fan, or 撮り鉄 (Tori 撮り-Taking a Picture, 鉄-tetsu) as a Railway Photography fan. There are a lot of these and the NPC does go over some! There's also Railway Modeling Fans (Fans who collect model trains and/or construct model railways), Collecting Fans (Fans who collect railway related items such as tickets or stamps), Operation Fans (Fans who like researching railway operation and equipment), Regulation Fans (Fans who like researching railway handbooks and laws and regulations that go into a railway), Simulation Fans (Fans who like playing train driving/railway management games), Artists/Writers, Urban Explorers, and Railway Preservationist (I gave up on the last ones lol). There are lots of ways to enjoy trains!

There's also the super specific terms of "Mama Tetsu" where a mother becomes a railway fan because of their children's interest or "Oyako Tetsu" where a child becomes interested in trains because of their parents.

●The badge on Ingo and Emmet's hats probably represents the logo for the railway company that they work for, while researching about Japanese Railway Companies, I noticed that they have a lot of circular logos, here's a handful:

From what I could gather, these types of black and white circular logos are called a mon, kind of like a crest? If you wish to scroll about the logos, here is the link for the Wikimedia commons list.

The company's logo is also what's usually depicted on irl conductor's hats anyways, in the exact same place too.

(I was looking for a screenshot to showcase the hat to put here, but instead I found this promotional video! It's actually pretty good at going over the basics of what a driver and conductor actually do! Please feel free to check it out)

youtube

●The name "Depot Agent" is a little bit of a strange name, in Japanese the name is simply "Railway Worker", a depot is often referred to a train yard, however depot can also refer to a station, given where we see this trainer class working (at Gear Station), it is most likely that the depot in this case is referring to station, so they are station workers!

Final:

After all this I have come to the conclusion that somebody at Gamefreak really liked trains! And I really think all the little details are so awesome! and it really cements the Battle Subway as my favorite battle facility!

Anyways I hope you learned a thing or two and I hope you gained a new appreciation for trains and the Battle Subway! Thanks for Reading! ✌

(If I got anything wrong, please feel free to correct me, there was a lot of information I had to sift through and I am NOT an engineer * _ * and if you have something to add please do! I would love to learn more! ^ ^

#post #long post #VERY LONG POST #THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE I STARTED THIS IN AUGUST #I love trains too much. Its a sickness really...#submas #battle subway #pokemon #pokemon black and white #pokemon black 2 white 2

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uncle-fruity · 52 minutes ago

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Also, like... I get that there is a lot of anxiety about being seen as morally good & fighting for everyone at every turn, but! Crucially, the people who try to guilt trip you or judge you off your Tumblr presence don't fucking know you. They don't know what you do off Tumblr. They may not know any other social media that you DO use for your politics and heavy posting. And, tbh, at a certain level of offline activism & direct action, it is actively dangerous for you to be posting about what you do online, so a perceived lack of interest or dedication online does not necessarily translate to the efforts you put in to causes you care about.

Fact of the matter is, YOU are the only one who knows what you get up to. If it's not as much as you think you should be doing, that's for you to assess and change. If you feel like you're doing enough, or if you feel like taking on more responsibility in activism would overwhelm you or burn you out, that's okay! You know your limits better than anyone else. You get to set your priorities. And if you really want to help with social justice causes, you HAVE to take care of yourself. Anger, fear, and guilt are not sustainable motivations to drive a movement. You NEED places to relax and have fun and not think about how bleak things can get. You NEED to have places to retreat, enjoy yourself, and remind yourself that it's all worth fighting for.

I know this, because I'm in my 30s now. When I was in my early 20s, I was friends with a lot of folks who went hard during the Ferguson protests, and while many of them are still active in their activism, almost none of them are operating on the same level as they used to. All of them are burnt out & depressed. I spend a lot of my energy urging them to take care of their most basic needs. We also have a problem with a lot of older activists being too broken & traumatized to continue organizing. And part of the problem is people within the movement encouraging people to push past their limits until they have nothing left to give. Or just having no support systems in place to help people recover while actively judging people who need them & can't continue without them.

And, like, it's hard, because it's easy to start feeling like no one cares about the stuff you care about when you're out there trying to make change -- especially true if all your activism is online posting & raising awareness. It can feel like you're talking to a void or a brick wall. The idea that you are so stressed & strung out & never let yourself take a break from the harsh reality of the world while there are people who have the audacity to make time to enjoy their lives and put their efforts into other activities that aren't directly related to The Cause -- well, that's why a lot of people resort to guilt trips. I know I did, too, when I was younger and freshly angry. And I know that those guilt trips did nothing to convince anyone of anything. In fact, it was the constant guilt trips that made me retreat from those online groups. Where they might have had any and all skills I could offer, they instead made me feel like shit for doing what I could handle at the time. And even though I knew guilt tripping was a major manipulation & abuse tactic, I still resorted to it and, in doing so, I felt wrong. Like I betrayed some of my core values by trying to make people feel so bad that they would suddenly realize that they should be ashamed & join the movement headfirst. It just... doesn't work that way. A guilt trip will turn people off. If you want people to join a movement or be more active in a movement they are already part of, it is so much better to encourage them to come with you to organized events or give them something tangible to do that they can actually accomplish. And if you're just talking about posting online, well... that is not the most important thing to focus on, and is a really bad measure to judge someone's morality.

All that to say, a guilt trip is usually a manifestation of the desperation folks are feeling. It's not right to guilt trip folks, and if you're at that point that you feel like that's the only thing that will get people to change and care, then I'm sorry to say you are probably on the verge of your own burnout and you need to take a break. Please don't let people make you feel bad for not being angry or on your activism shit 24/7. And don't judge yourself harshly when you need to have boundaries online. The best tactic will always be community building and working with people & their various skills on their level. Compassion and encouragement go so much farther than guilt.

No matter what a post on tumblr tries to tell you, your moral and ethical stances will never be determined by what you reblog and what you scroll past. Don’t let manipulation tactics force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.

#important #psa #social justice #burnout

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 days ago

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chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done.

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’.

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face.

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout.

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh.

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind.

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further.

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time.

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her.

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no.

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused.

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday.

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner.

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.”

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true.

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan.

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy.

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair.

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly.

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you.

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response.

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…”

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands.

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers.

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand.

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist.

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?”

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.”

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it.

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face.

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin.

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt.

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence?

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms?

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him.

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm.

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder.

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on.

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you.

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast.

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises.

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment.

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter.

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt.

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate.

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him.

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #matt smith #matt smith x reader

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pedroscurls · 1 day ago

Text

you put a spell on me (one-shot)

summary: hugh attends a masquerade-themed party and you capture his attention the moment you step into the building. pairing: hugh jackman x fem! reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni), fingering, oral - m receiving, multiple orgasms (from reader), missionary (legs over hugh’s shoulders obvi), doggy style, cowgirl, light spanking, unprotected p in v sex (be safe folks!), creampie , no use of y/n. word count: 5.2k a/n: so after all the shit that’s happened in the last twenty four hours, I just needed to write something and Hugh’s most recent post is the inspiration of this story. song lyrics are in italics btw. hope you all enjoy! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. song: you put a spell on me by austin giorgio

A masquerade ball.

Hugh was speaking with Ryan and Blake when someone caught the corner of his eye. Turning to look in your direction, he feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you descending the stairs to the main dance floor.

Everyone else in this ballroom was either dressed in tones of black, white, and gold, but you… the color of your deep wine red dress adds just the right amount of color to this room. He can’t help but let his eyes take in your frame - the gown trails behind you so elegantly and serene as you walk, an a-line cut with a slit that reveals your leg, an empire waist that clings to every curve, and the slightly puffy sleeves of your dress makes you look so angelic. When you turn slightly, he takes note of the open back as well, biting his lower lip.

There’s a familiarity to you, that maybe he’s seen you before, maybe even talked to you before too. Hugh watches your eyes sweep the area and when your eyes meet his, he lets the corner of his lips turn upwards and then he sees you bite your lower lip, returning his smile with one of your own.

But you’re wearing a masquerade mask, just like he is, just like everyone else in this room is. He can’t tell if he knows you, can’t decide if he should just go up to you and strike up a conversation because if he could hear your voice, it’ll at least give him some idea of who you might be.

Hugh has to peel his eyes away from you for a moment, turning his attention back to Ryan who’s staring at him with a big grin.

“What?” Hugh asks, bringing a hand up to adjust the mask on his face.

“You gonna talk to her?”

“I don’t know her,” Hugh admits. “Or at least I don’t think I do.”

“Well, go and find out.” Blake says with a smile, gently nudging him with her arm.

“Yeah?” Hugh asks. “You think it won’t be awkward?”

“Well, what was awkward was watching you stare at her like you wanted something, if you get what I mean,” Ryan teases.

Hugh rolls his eyes and lets out a quiet chuckle. He runs a hand through his hair and then straightens out his bow tie as he nods at Ryan and Blake before he leaves the table in search of you.

Hugh scans the entire room, trying to catch a glimpse of your red dress in the sea of black, white and gold, but he can’t seem to find you. He places his hands in his pockets as he continues to walk casually throughout the room, stopping every now and then to talk with someone he knows. Even in the midst of the conversations, Hugh’s eyes still search for you.

Just one glimpse, he tells himself. Hugh just needs to see the color of your dress and then he’ll be able to get to you.

He excuses himself from another conversation and then decides to walk towards the bar. Hugh sighs to himself, not having found you since you first stepped into the building. He takes the champagne glass from the bartender and then turns his gaze back to the entire room. Very briefly, does he see a glimpse of your smile. His eyes move lower and notices the color of your dress.

It’s you, finally.

Taking a deep breath, Hugh takes another glass of champagne and walks in your direction. It takes less than ten seconds to get to you, the person you had been talking to leaving you alone conveniently as he moves to stand next to you.

“Refill?” Hugh asks quietly, handing you the glass of champagne.

You smile up at him and Hugh feels his heart race even faster. You don’t say anything, instead you just give him a thankful nod and take the glass of champagne from him, your fingers brushing against his.

“I’m Hugh,” he says with a small smile.

“I know,” you finally tell him.

Your voice is quiet and he can’t tell if he’s heard it before, so he leans in closer. Hugh can hear your breath hitch and it gives him just the right amount of confidence to ask you a question.

“And you? What’s your name?”

You lift the glass of champagne to your lips and take a small sip. “Well, what’s the fun in that if I just tell you,” you tease, whispering quietly.

Hugh smiles and pulls back to look down at you. All of a sudden, no one else in this room matters but you. Everyone fades into the background and all he can see is you.

“Okay,” he chuckles. “Well, do we know each other? Have we met before?”

“We’ve met before, yes.”

Hugh bites the inside of his cheek but he can’t focus. He just wants to reach out and slowly lift the mask from your eyes so he can get a clear view of who you are.

“Have we worked together?” Hugh asks.

“I think I should be offended that you can’t tell who I am,” you laugh quietly.

Your laugh. The way your smile lights up your entire face. There’s that sense of familiarity all over again and it’s a fleeting moment where he suddenly realizes where he knows you from. The after party for Deadpool & Wolverine. He remembered leaving that night with a huge smile on his face after spending the entire night talking with you.

That was months ago and while you two have had brief conversations between then and now through social media, neither of you ever tried to pursue each other. Though, there was an obvious attraction, an obvious pull that you felt towards one another.

Hugh doesn’t ask anymore questions about you, but instead he watches you finish your glass of champagne. He smiles to himself and finishes his own glass before he takes yours and sets both glasses down on a nearby table.

“Would you like to dance?” Hugh asks, large hand extending out for you.

Gently, you place your hand in his and nod, stepping closer to him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Hugh smiles to himself and leads you to the dance floor, his free hand moving to rest on your lower back. He feels your other hand come to rest on his shoulder as he’s careful not to step on the ends of your dress. Even under the shadows of the dance floor, Hugh can see you so clearly.

you put a spell on me

I’m losing my mind

As the song begins, Hugh sways with you, hand splaying on your lower back as he feels your skin underneath his fingertips. He bites his lower lip, staring into your eyes through his own mask. He feels a bit at ease with the mask, like everyone else in the room won’t be focusing on the two of you and how you’re both becoming increasingly closer.

you better stop things

it’s a matter of time

You can feel his fingertips run lightly along your back as his eyes remain locked on yours. Since meeting him, Hugh had occupied your thoughts and the brief conversations you had with him always left you yearning for more. It was easy to talk to him; it felt so natural and he always made you laugh.

Hugh pulls you flush against him, your body pressing firmly against his as the song continues.

before I hunt you down

grab your chin

and kiss your lips

Your eyes move to his lips, biting down on your lower lip in anticipation. The tension between the both of you thickens and your hand on his shoulder moves to rest on his chest, the muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt tensing and flexing at your touch.

you bring me back

I lay you down

and grab your hips

Hugh then drops your hand and moves both of his own to rest on your hips, gripping them tightly as he lowers his head to press his forehead lightly against yours. Quietly, almost above a whisper, Hugh finally says your name with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“Y–You figured it out,” you say.

“Knew it the minute you smiled at me,” Hugh replies.

As you continue to sway on the dance floor with him, your own hands move to wrap around his neck, linking your fingers together to rest at the nape of his neck.

I put a spell on you

and now you’re mine

I’ve got a hold on you

at least for the night

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You ask him hesitantly, looking into his eyes hopefully.

Hugh nods instantly. “Yes,” he answers.

—

When you finally get to his penthouse, you walk inside and look around, still wearing your mask. You gasp quietly when you feel his strong hands on your hips, turning you around to face him. He slowly lifts his mask off and away from his face, his hazel eyes now glimmering with excitement.

He’s so handsome, so beautiful and breathtaking. Hugh then reaches up to slowly lift the mask away from your face, eyes gazing directly into your own once he removes it completely. He feels his heart race faster again at the sight of you.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

“Hugh?” You ask, hand coming up to gently run along the lapel of his white suit jacket.

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me, please.”

Hugh nods and then leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. His hand moved to cup your cheek, fingers splaying against the side of your neck. Your own hands move to the lapels of his white suit jacket, gripping it lightly as you begin to move your lips with his own. You’ve imagined this so many times, but you never thought that it would feel this perfect.

His free hand moves to rest on your hip, rubbing his thumb against the fabric of your dress. Hugh darts his tongue out to tease your lips and when you let out a gasp, his tongue slides in your mouth to meet your own. The grip around his jacket tightens further and you feel a familiar throbbing between your legs, your wetness now staining the panties you have on.

Hugh pulls away from the kiss momentarily to look down at you. You’ve occupied his mind since meeting you and the brief conversations you did share has always left him wondering if this could be more. He didn’t want to push this, push you, into something that wouldn’t become anything but the moment he knew it was you, Hugh realized he wanted you. Bad.

He’s staring into your eyes, searching for any doubt in your features. Hugh drops his hand to rest on the side of your neck, thumb now brushing against your collarbone. “Tell me…” he sighs. “Tell me I’m not the only one that feels something here.”

“You’re not,” you admit. “I’ve been– Since the night of the party, I kind of expected you to ask me out or…” you feel the heat in your cheeks rise and you bite your lower lip. “I thought maybe I had just imagined it.”

The hand on your hip moves to your back, fingertips grazing your skin as he dips it lower and lower beneath the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t want to scare you away,” he confesses.

“I don’t think you ever could.” You move your hands up his chest and slowly undo his bow tie, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

“And if we do this?” Hugh asks, hopefully.

“Well, if we do this,” you say quietly, your fingers slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt. “It’s not going to be just a one time thing… but if you want it to be a one time thing, then we should probably establish–”

Hugh shakes his head and interjects, “it’s not going to be a one time thing.”

You smile up at him, your fingertips grazing the exposed skin on his chest as you continue to unbutton his shirt. “Good. Take me to your room?”

“Yes,” Hugh breathes out. He steps back and away from you, taking your hand in his and leading you to his main bedroom upstairs. You don’t even have time to look around, to get acquainted with his personal space that he allowed you to get a glimpse of because the moment you step inside, Hugh gently sets you on the edge of his large mattress.

You watch him get rid of his bow tie and white jacket, discarding it on the floor. You’re about to reach down to remove your heels, but Hugh drops to his knees in front of you, taking one foot to slide the heel off. You clear your throat, hands resting on the edges of the mattress as Hugh proceeds to your other foot to remove your heel. Slowly, he lifts the ends of your dress to reveal more of your legs, his fingertips hovering lightly over you.

Once your dress bunches up at the waist and he gets a clear view of your matching red lace thong, he has to reach down to squeeze his throbbing erection. Hugh leans in and presses soft kisses on your inner thigh, the stubble of his beard and his sideburns grazing your skin and causing a shiver to run through your body.

Hugh stares up at you, eyes silently asking for permission. When he sees you nod, Hugh moves further between your legs, his nose brushing against your clothed sex. It causes a gasp to escape your lips, eyes falling shut as nudges you with the bridge of his nose.

“Hugh,” you whimper. “Please, baby…”

Hugh smirks and pulls away to look up at you. He stands up – albeit with protest from you – and takes your hand. Once you’re standing in front of him, he reaches for the zipper on the side of your dress and lowers it until the dress becomes loose around your frame. He feels your hands come back up to finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt and once it’s fully unbuttoned, you push it off his shoulders and the shirt drops to the floor. He’s now completely shirtless and your eyes deviate to his strong and chiseled chest. You lean in and gently nip along his collarbone, hands coming up to graze his abdomen and up his chest.

Hugh lets out a quiet moan at your touch. Slowly, he takes your hands and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles before he reaches out to pull down your dress. Once it pools around your ankles, he feels his breath catch in his throat yet again. You’re standing in front of him in a deep red lace bra and matching thong set.

“You’re breathtaking,” he compliments. “Fuck,” he adds.

Hugh has always looked at you like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, has always given you his undivided attention, and right now is no different. You’d usually be very conscious about your body, about how you look, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel very confident and secure in your skin.

“I think it’s only fair we take these off, huh?” You say, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You can see his obvious bulge from beneath his slacks, can see the outline of him and you feel only slightly nervous because he looks big. At least, bigger than you’ve ever had before.

Hugh nods and then undoes his pants, quickly stepping out of them as he kicks his shoes off. He’s wearing black boxer briefs and you slowly reach out to rest your palm over him, his girth and size not a match for your hand. You’re tugging on his boxers, tugging on the fabric to pull it away from him, but Hugh shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist instead.

“Gotta see you first, baby,” he whispers, lips grazing your jawline. Then, Hugh sets you on the middle of his bed, biting his lower lip at the sight of you all splayed out for him. He quickly moves to settle himself between your legs, making sure to press himself against you. When he feels you roll your hips, Hugh lets out a groan.

Hugh reaches around you and unclasps your bra, pulling it slowly away from your body. He tosses it over his shoulder, eyes moving to your now exposed breasts and he pushes further into you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your thong, pulling it down your legs. “Gonna keep these,” he growls, bringing the fabric up to his nose and inhales your scent.

You bite your lower lip and nod up at him, watching him set your panties on his nightstand. When you look back up at him, Hugh’s eyes scan every inch of your naked frame, almost like he’s committing it to memory. When he presses his clothed length against you, he feels your wetness stain the fabric of his briefs.

Hugh slowly lowers himself further to press light kisses on your collarbone, lips moving further and further until he wraps his lips around your nipple. He groans to himself and uses his free hand to begin kneading your unattended breast. Hugh feels your hips continue to roll upwards into him and he’s throbbing so painfully beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs. He pulls back, flicking his tongue against your nipple before he moves to give the same attention to your other breast.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Hugh smiles to himself and moves a hand between your legs, a finger slowly grazing your exposed sex. You’re already so wet, juices building and trickling down to his sheets. He slides the tip of his finger into your heat, growling against you as he feels your walls tighten around him, sucking him in.

He slides his finger further into your heat, pulling away from your breast to look up at you. Hugh rests his forehead against your temple, whispering lowly in your ear. “You’re so wet, baby…” he smirks, nibbling at your earlobe as he begins to pump his finger in and out of your depths.

Your hands move to his shoulders, gripping it tightly as your walls begin to tremble. When Hugh pushes another digit into you, your back arches and your fingernails dig into his skin. “Hugh!” You moan loudly, your head tossing back slightly against the mattress as you feel your walls begin to clench around his digits, your orgasm approaching faster than what you’re used to.

Hugh grins to himself and quickens his pace. He can feel your juices around his fingers, can hear the squelching sounds of his fingers pumping into your wet heat. After a few more pumps, Hugh presses his fingers fully into, palm firmly against your bundle of nerves.

“Come for me,” he growls into your ear.

And on command, your walls clench further around him and a loud moan escapes your lips. You roll your hips against his hand, his palm providing the right amount of friction against your clit. When you slowly come down from your high, Hugh then pulls his hand away from you. He sees your arousal coat his fingers and he grins, bringing it to his lips and sucking them off his fingers. His eyes flutter at your taste and he leans back against his knees.

“God, you taste good.” Hugh’s about to lower himself to get a taste of you directly through the source, but his eyes slightly widen when you sit up and gently push him onto his back. “Baby,” he says softly, seeing the dark gaze in your eyes. Hugh feels your hands tug down his briefs, his erected manhood now resting against his lower abdomen.

“You made me come,” you tell him, licking your lower lip. “Already,” you continue.

“Oh, you’re gonna come a few more times tonight before I’m done with you,” Hugh grins proudly.

You don’t answer. Instead, you lie on your abdomen and grasp the base of length, wasting no time in wrapping your lips around his tip. Hugh lets out a loud groan in surprise, hand coming down to tangle itself in your hair. You whimper at the taste of him, at his girth stretching your mouth. He lifts his head slightly off the bed to look down at you, groaning at the sight of you. You smile at him – fucking smile with his cock in your mouth and it makes him go wild. Hugh rests his head back against the mattress, eyes fully shut tight when he feels you lower your mouth further onto him.

Your hand strokes what your mouth can’t take and he knows that he can’t fucking come right now, knows that he doesn’t want to come in your mouth when he hasn’t even felt how you would feel wrapped around him.

“Baby, baby, fuck,” he groans, gently pulling you away from his length. Hugh looks down at himself, seeing your saliva coating half of his size and when he looks up at you, you’re fucking smiling again. He rolls you onto your back and settles himself between your legs, grasping his base and running his tip along your throbbing sex. “As much as I loved the sight of you with my cock in your mouth,” he growls, eyes staring deeply into yours. “I still need to feel you.”

Then, Hugh pushes his tip into you. He groans to himself, pushing his hips into you as he slides into your tight walls inch by inch. You’re so wet, so warm, so fucking tight. He rests his forearms at either side of your head, gently stroking your hair back and away from your face. He stares into your eyes, rolling his hips into you until he fills you to the hilt.

“You feel good, baby,” Hugh whispers, lips brushing against yours. He feels your legs wrap around his waist, whimpering quietly as your eyes flutter when he pulls out to his tip only to thrust back into you slowly. “It’s taking a lot of restraint in me to not just…” he slams into you roughly, causing a loud moan to leave your lips. “Fuck.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your lips to his jawline and neck. “Fuck me, Hugh… I can take it. I promise.”

Like a switch turned on, Hugh pulls back and sits back on his knees. He brings your legs to drape over his strong shoulders as he slides back into you. He turns his head and kisses the inside of your calf gently, softly, as he delivers a sharp thrust into you.

Hugh’s thrusts don’t falter, his skin slaps against yours as he picks up the pace. When he leans forward, your legs still over his shoulders, you feel him slide further into your depths. He rests his hands on the mattress, using it to ground him as he feels your walls slide along his throbbing length, gripping him so tight.

You can feel the tightness begin to build, your walls beginning to clench once more as your orgasm looms closer and closer. You reach out to rest your hands on his chest, feeling like you can’t handle anymore. Your body is overly sensitive and with each drag of his hips, with each push he thrusts into you, is enough for your walls to tighten even further around his length.

“Oh god,” you moan aloud. “Hugh!”

Hugh groans at the sight of you, at the feel of your walls clenching and trembling around him. He slows his thrusts for a moment, placing your legs back to your side as he stares down at you. “That’s two,” he grins proudly. Hugh pulls out completely, looking down at his length to see it slick with your arousal.

“It’s not a game,” you pant, moving to sit up with your legs still spread wide for him.

Hugh smirks, reaching down and stroking himself slowly as his eyes take in your entire frame. He’s surprised that he’s held out this long, driven by his desire to get you to come at least one more time before he does.

“Really? Because I’m kind of enjoying myself, baby.”

You narrow your eyes and then slowly roll yourself into your abdomen. You bury your face against the softness of his pillow as you bring the sheet to cover your lower half. “Good, well I’m gonna get some sleep. You can fix that little problem yourself.” You bite your lower lip, knowing that Hugh’s not going to like that. When you look over your shoulder at him, you can see his lower lip between his teeth and he tugs the sheet down and away from your body.

“Oh, we wanna be a tease, huh?” Hugh straddles your hips, caging you in as he brings his hand lightly down your ass. The sound of his palm connecting with your backside echoes throughout his room. You gasp loudly, fully surprised that you actually like it. “We like that, do we?” Hugh smirks and then spanks you once more, feeling you wiggle back into him. “Oh, baby, you’re naughty.”

Then, he slides into you fully, this new position making you feel even tighter around him. You reach back, trying to push him away – your walls so sensitive with two orgasms already. Hugh clicks his tongue and grabs your hands and places them above your head, gripping your wrists firmly. He rolls his hips into you, eyes fluttering at the feel of you around him.

“Hugh, baby, please–”

Hugh interrupts you with a harsh thrust, resting his chest firmly against your back as he whispers into your ear. “Tell me how it feels, love,” he pants, a groan leaving his lips.

“Feels good,” you whimper, pushing back against him. “You’re so–” your breath catches in your throat when he pushes all the way into you, filling you so fully and deeply. He’s crowding your space, holding your wrists down, the weight of his body weight firmly pressing against yours, and his tip kissing your most inner parts… it’s enough for you to reach yet another orgasm.

“Fuck, Hugh!”

Hugh releases your wrists to grab your hips and pull out of you abruptly. He turns you over and leans down to lap at your juices, eyes fluttering at your taste as his tongue helps you ride out your climax. Your hand immediately moves to his hair – what was once neatly done for tonight’s event now is a complete mess as you tug and pull.

Hugh brings a hand to press his thumb firmly against your clit, feeling your entire body tremble and shake against him.

“Hugh!” you moan loudly, back arching. You’re truly spent and he’s still so fucking hard for you. When he pulls away, he licks his lips and gently slaps your already-sensitive pussy, which causes a gasp to escape your lips. You’re breathing so heavily, chest raising as you stare at him with a dazed look on your face.

“Three?” He smirks.

“How are you still…” you bite your lip and see him move to lie down next to you, his hand dropping down to slowly begin to stroke himself. “Don’t you want to come?”

Hugh growls lowly, eyes looking at you from top to bottom. “I do,” he answers. “But seeing you come is just as good.”

You take a few deep breaths and then slowly move to straddle his waist. You take hold of his base, holding it firm in your hand. You keep your eyes locked on his and slowly lower yourself onto him, feeling his girth stretch you out once more. You know you won’t be able to last long, your entire body already on overdrive. When you slowly begin to lower yourself onto him, inch by inch, it surprises you at how deep he feels in this position. Your walls slide down each inch of his length and when you lower yourself completely, until you’re sitting firmly on his lap, your hands move to rest on his chest.

“So deep,” you whisper, slowly rolling your hips forward and backwards, the hair at his base providing just the right amount of friction against your clit. “Now, it’s your turn to come– Hugh!”

He delivers a sharp thrust upwards, hands moving to grip your hips tightly and his fingertips dig into your flesh. Hugh licks his lower lip, staring up at you as you try your best to hold out another orgasm just so he can come. It’s cute, very considerate, but he needs one more out of you. Hugh isn’t usually like this, but there’s something about you that brings out this feral animal in him.

One hand moves to grasp your breast, massaging and kneading it into his palm as his other keeps a tight hold on your hip. Hugh lets out a loud moan when he feels you begin to bounce along his length – all the way to his tip and back down completely. He’s close, he’s surprised he’s even held out this long with coming, but he knows he’s close and he can’t hold it anymore.

“Baby–” Hugh groans, thumb brushing against your nipple as he sits up and wraps his arms around your waist. You continue to move along his length, your own hands moving to rest on his shoulders. In the time that he’s known you, you’ve always been so determined, especially when you put your mind on something and right now is no different.

He feels you lean in to press your lips against his own. It’s a messy kiss, but fueled with so much passion, so much intensity. Hugh feels the tightness build and build in the pit of his stomach as his hands hold you firmly still, his hips stuttering upwards into you at an erratic pace.

“Oh god,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face against the side of your neck. Slowly, he feels your hips roll forwards and backwards, causing a shiver to run through his body. Hugh pulls back enough to look up at you and he sees that same fucking grin on your face. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he rolls you onto your back and slowly pulls out of you, seeing his release trickle out of you.

He’s about to say something, but you interrupt him by reaching down to scoop some of his release onto your finger and lift it to your lips. Without hesitation, you suck the remnants of his release off your fingertip and maintain eye contact.

“Minx,” he groans.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for the next few days,” you giggle. “I can’t believe you made me come three times.”

“Let’s aim for four next time,” Hugh grins.

“I don’t know if I can do four…” you laugh.

“Oh, baby, I believe in you,” he winks and moves to hover above you again. Hugh’s hand comes up to rest on your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin lightly. “But before we do that, can I take you out on a real date?”

You nod and turn your head slightly to kiss the inside of his wrist. “Yes, Hugh.”

Hugh grins and then leans down to capture your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman request #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: mystery woman #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman smut

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saphiccarma · 2 days ago

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hiiii!! can you write agatha x pregnant reader (or you can do it with rio x agatha x reader). I haven't really come up with anything interesting, ahaha, but I think it would be cool to see soft agatha with a pregnant reader, especially after all these years since nicky died.

-My baby, my baby

Relationships: Agatha Harkeness x Reader

Summary: After all these years, Agatha has found someone she loves. Loves enough to have a child with.

Warnings: Some angst, but is followed but by fluff. A couple sexual innuendos, birth

A/N: This was so fucking fun to write. I hope it did the request justice and that y'all enjoy!

You met Agatha when you were merely wandering around. She was dressed nicely, her clothes a mix of work and casual. Clumsily, as you tended to be, you bumped into her, her coffee spilling all over the sidewalk and both your shirts. She had cursed, her glare sharp and annoyed, but after you invited her out to get a coffee, it softened. After that the two of you continually went on dates, slowly talking more and more, before it grew into more.

That was a few years ago, and now you lived with her in a nice house in the woods. It was a small cabin miles away from people with a large lake in the back. It was basically your dream home. You had found out she was a witch just a year into that. At first you were shocked, but at the same time it made sense. The way she just knew what you were thinking and how she could just the things you asked for without much problem. The two liked to take advantage of her powers had tested out a certain spell during a night a few weeks ago, one that had left you a sweaty, blushing mess by the end. You didn't think it would have any side effect. But now, sitting in the bathroom, you stared a bright pink plus sign and began to think it had side effects.

Your hand cupped your mouth as tears brimmed your eyes. Being a mother was something that you were not ready for yet. When you were young, your mother was hardly present. Hell she was only there until you turned five and then she handed you off to social servicies, deciding having a kiss was too much work. You had no idea how to be a mother. Most foster mother's hated you, just a few being kind but they were off to work all the time. What if you were a horrible mother?

And Agatha...She had briefly told you about her son, never delving too deep into it, and you never pushed, but you weren't sure if she wanted this. What if she hated you? What if she left? You didn't think you could handle that rejected. Children was a topic the two of you had yet to discuss, always thinking it was far into the future. She had never expressed an interest in a child before-

"Darling," Agatha called. You panicked at the sound of her voice, your entire body locking up. You scrambled up, shutting the bathroom door and locking it. The handle jiggled as Agatha tried to open it, "Darling?"

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I'm showering."

There was a pregnant pause on the other side.

"I've seen you naked before darling if that's what you're about," she paused, her tone confused yet still filled with that playful lilt, "And the water isn't even running."

Clutching the test in your hand, your fingers trembled as you stared at the ground. There were a few beats of silence and you were silently counting in your head, waiting for Agatha to use her magic to open the door. Instead, you were surprised when a note was slid under the door. A faint smile crossed your face. Not long ago, you had told Agatha of how you did this with a foster sister before. She was pissed at you, locking herself in the bathroom, and you had slid notes under the door until she opened it.

You knelt down onto the cold floor. Delicately, you picked up the paper, unfolding it and reading the message: are you mad at me :(

A little laugh escaped you and you could basically see Agatha's proud smile. A pen was rolled under the door next, and you picked it up, scribbling on the paper. No :) :(

You pushed the paper and pen back under the door. Agatha huffed when she read it and you could hear the faint sound of a pen scrapping against the note a she wrote out her next message. Once again, you picked it up as it was slid under the door.

Can I come in? 💜

You smiled at the doodled heart next to the question, but your heart skipped an uncomfortable beat at the words. The pregnancy test sat dauntingly next to you on the floor, you weren't even sure when you had set it down, and it's symbol stared up at you like a taunt. After a moment of hesistance, you wrote your reply on the paper and slid it under the door.

It was opened magically a moment later, Agatha rushing in. She scanned you over as you stood up, taking in your face that and tears shimmering in your eyes. Her eyes flickered around the room before landing on the pregnancy test on the floor.

"Don't be mad," You blurted, "I was going to tell you I promise. I only just found out and-"

Agatha cupped your face and pressed her lips gently onto yours before you could spiral into more anxious rambling, "Shh," she whispered softly, "Calm down." She wrapped her arms around you, letting you bury your face into her neck.

"We're not ready," you sobbed into her neck, "What if- what if-"

"No what if's," she said firmly, swaying back and forth as you tried to quell your inner panic, "It'll be okay."

You whimpered slightly, clinging onto her for support, your knees weak. They gave out and Agatha gently lowered the two of you to the ground, landing on the cold floor that caused you to shiver. Gripping Agatha's shirt tightly, you pressed nose into her neck, soaking up the smell of lavender body wash that lingered there. She whispered soothing words in your ear, rubbing circles onto your back as you cried out your worries. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, one that was grounding and helped ease the worries somewhat.

Being a mother was something that you were not prepared for, not at all.

^______________^

If you were being honest, you weren't sure when the cravings started. It was small, like maybe you wanted peanut buttter when you usally didn't. Then today, when you woke up you realized you wanted some pineapple, a fruit that was never kept in the house, with nutella slathered all over it.

"Can you go get pineapple?" You stood in front of Agatha who was reading on the couch, purple magic dancing between her fingers as she used it to turn the pages, one hand holding the book and the other holding a coffee cup. She raised a brow at your question, glancing up from her reading.

"Pineapple," she echoed softly, "Are we moving to Hawaii soon?" Her quip made blush highlight your cheeks as you pouted.

"No," you mumbled, "But it sounds so good right now."

Agatha sighed in fond annoyance, "Alright. I'll go get pineapple. Is there anything else you want, miss princess?"

"I'm not a princess! I just don't feel like going out!" you protested, pouting up at her. She was just an inch taller than you, but it was enough for her to constantly boast about it. Always bragging she was an inch taller.

Your wife rolled her eyes, pressing an affectionate kiss to your lips before moving to slip her shoes on and grab a purse. She winked at you briefly with a sly smirk before slipping out of the house. Sitting down on the couch, you picked up the book she was reading, eyes scanning over it and a warm blush covering your cheeks at the words written on the book. The sexual scenes. You hadn't even known Agatha was reading this. You hadn't even realized how much time had passed before the front door clicked shut and you were slamming the book closed with wide eyes and a fierce red on your cheeks.

Agatha eyed you suspiciously as she entered the living room on her way to the kitchen, "What did you do?"

"Nothing," you shook your head furiously, "Absolutely nothing."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" she scoffed, but pulled a pineapple out of the groccery bag, "Would you like me to chop it up too, princess?"

You blushed at the pet name but didn't have time to protest as she was already grabbing a knife and chopping the pineapple up. It looked absolutely delicious. It wasn't long before you had chunks of pineapple slathered with nutella while sitting on the couch. Agatha had eyed you oddly throughout your preperation of the nutella and made a few teasing remarks but otherwise left you be.

When she picked her book up you realized that you hadn't book marked her page, but rather the page you were on. Looking at you with a smirk, Agatha chuckled slightly.

"Darling, if you wanted to know about my book I could have just shown you," She teased, her voice light and airy.

You spluttered, nearly spitting out the food in your mouth as you blushed furiously, "Agatha!"

She cackled like the witch she was.

^_______________^

It had been three days since you had found out the gender of your child and since that, Agatha had pulled away, retreating outside and away from you . It hurt, stinging like a sharp pain to your heart as you watched her pull away. You knew she was hurting, knowing that your child was a boy, and you had no doubt it brought up painful memories. Still, you wanted to be there for her and you needed her. Being pregnant wasn't easy. Everytime you tried to talk to her, she would make some excuse, her tone clipped and short before sauntering off. You had finally cornered her in the kitchen when preparing a snack.

"Don't you dare try to leave," you warned dangerously.

"I have to-" Agatha tried push past you, taking a step back again when you didn't move.

"No you don't," you shook your head and took a step closer. Tenderly, you grabbed her caloused hands, worn from years of spell casting, and rubbed soft cirlces with your thumb. Agatha flinched but you didn't let her pull away. Your voice was soft murmur, "Talk to me."

There was a large pause on her end. She bit her lip and looked away, jaw clenching. A huff escaped her as she mumbled, barely audible, "I'm scared."

Your heart melted as you heard those words, pulling her into a hug despite her stiff posture. Agatha had always been unsure about physical contact, but you knew she secretly craved it. Placing a lingering kiss onto the top of her head, you let your lip stay there.

"Me too," you whispered, "And while you haven't told me much about your son, not that you have to, I can't imagine how hard this must be. But we'll get through it, we can do it." Despite your own doubts about wether or not you could be a good mother, you knew Agatha could. She may have a clipped and sarcastic personality to those who didn't know her, she was softer when she loved you. Still sarcastic, but her heart softened.

You swayed back and forth like you would for a young child, "Everything will be okay."

Faintly, Agatha sniffled, hardly audible. She squeezed you tight and pressed a tender kiss onto your bare shoulder.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you too."

Her hand rested on your belly bump, and she pulled away slightly, pressing a kiss to it. She smiled up at you, the underside of her eyes shimmering with tears, but her lips curved into a perfect smile as she pressed another kiss to your stomach, "He's going to be my little prince."

^___________^

You clutched Agatha's hand tightly as pain rippled through you. You sat in a hospital bed, blankets shoved to the side, as Agatha sat next to you, her hand tight against yours. Grinding your teeth together, you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Holy fuck," you whispered harshly, scowling at Agatha's small laugh. "It's not funny."

She smiled, gently pushing hair out of your face, "I'm sorry, princess."

You grunted as another contraction tore through you.

"When's the nurse coming back?" You asked, your heels pressed into the thin matress in an attempt to ground yourself.

Agatha hummed softly, "I'm not sure, I can go get her?"

You shook your head, not wanting her to leave, but at the same time you could feel the baby coming closer. Your water had broken not long ago and they were just waiting for it to happen. Although you didn't want her to leave, you nodded your head, reluctantly forcing yourself to release her hand. Agatha was gone for a few long, painful moments, before wandering back in with a midwife and another woman who you assumed was the labor coach. You had done a lot of reading on it. Your wife hurried to your side, immediatelly grabbing hold of your hand.

The midwife examined you, humming softly, "You ready mama?"

Forcing yourself to nod, not that it mattered, this baby was coming either way, you listened to the other nurses instructions. You ground your teeth together, willing yourself not to scream and squeezed Agatha's hand as tight as possible. Your wife whispered soothing words, her eyes fixed onto the midwife.

"Agatha," you panted, sweat beading at your brow, "I'm scared."

"Shh," The witch brushed away stray hair from your sweaty face, "I know me too."

A string of curse words flew out of you as you were instructed to push. A searing pain shot through the lower part of your body. Your wife pressed a soft kiss to your clenched hand, an amused smile flickering across her face at the vile words that left your mouth. She remembered giving birth like it was yesterday, and it was one of the most painful things she had done. Your eyes, opened for just a second, met hers. She smiled encourgingly at you, she knew you would be able to do it.

"I can see the head!" The midwife announced, glancing up very briefly.

You squeezed your eyes shut as pain tore through you and you were told to push. A few moments later, the nurse pulled away with a concerned frown on her face as she held a child in her hands. Agatha opened her mouth, prepared to ask a question, but the labor coach rushed out of the room as the midwife set the baby down on the table. She pressed her hands to his chest, doing tiny little compressions. Your eyes glued to the baby, even as you were panting with sweat coating your face, you found the energy to look at him. Tears shimmered in your eyes, worry replacing all the pain as the nurse worked over him.

You couldn’t lose him, not now, not after all you had done. Not after you and Agatha had decorated the nursery. Painting it a soft baby blue after much debate and tucking a crib in the corner and a rocking chair and oh so many toys for when he got older.

“Blue is such a generic boys color,” Agatha scoffed, her hand flicking to make the walls a pastel purple. You rolled your eyes.

“But it would be so cute,” you pouted up at her, “Please my love?” You kept up your pout until she agreed and the walls were colored a soft blue.

You couldn’t lose him after so many nights where you argued with Agatha because you were grumpy from the pain and she was her usual stubborn self.

“You can sleep on the couch then,” you said, turning around defiantly at crawling into the bed.

Agatha gaped at you, her head pulled back in shock and brows furrowed. She then huffed, turning around with a dramatic flair, “Fine.”

You refused to admit the next morning you missed the warmth of her cuddles and she endlessly complained about the pain in her back.

After all the two of you had gone through, you couldn’t lose him.

You were too focused on your child to notice your wife when her head snapped up and her eyes locked with a familiar figure. Rio stood across the room, clad in a green dress and a sorrowful tint in her eyes. She glanced at Agatha, freezing entirely. The Witch knew she could only see Death because of their past bond, not because the mortals could see her.

"Don't," Agatha whispered harshly, ignoring your confused look, "Don't you dare."

Death froze, her eyes flickering towards the child who wasn't breathing, before her eyes met Agatha's once more. Faintly, almost imperceptible, she nodded. Then she was gone. A sigh of relief escaped Agatha as her child took his first breath. The nurse gasped, a happy one filled with relief, as a doctor and another nurse rushed into the room. They stopped at the nurse's instructions.

When your child let out a large cry, you panicked, glancing at Agatha in concern, "That's what he's supposed to do right?"

"Yeah," Agatha laughed, keeping a careful eye on the midwife as she cleaned your child, "He's supposed to do that."

The nurse carried the child over, naked and bare, but so pure. You took him delicately, cooing at his small form. He was perfect. Cradling him close, you placed the most tender kiss atop his head, and shut your eyes. Pain still throbbed through your body, but your baby was here. He made it.

You looked at Agatha who's eyes were firmly trained on the two of you and offered a soft smile.

"Want to hold him?" your voice was quiet, afraid to disturb the baby.

It took your wife a moment to respond, and you could see the unshed tears in her eyes. Eventually she nodded, her arms stretching out as she took the baby before cradling him to her chest. She gave him the softest smile you had ever seen, her eyes filled with so much adoration.

"My little prince," she whispered, "You made it."

Her finger caressed his face, tracing the baby fat and familiar features of a baby boy. She remembered her own child, her own baby that was so much like him.

"Do you have a name?" the nurse asked, idly putting on gloves.

The two of you had decided on a name together, one that had been discussed over many months of pondering.

"Nikoli."

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader

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ragana62 · 1 day ago

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My inbox is always open. To talk fandom, to talk life, to scream into the void, to request silly little drawings or words to try and make yourself feel better, to ask me to use my research skills to help you find something whether in fandom or in real life, whatever.

To be clear, open means open. I don’t care if you read my fics. I don’t care if you like/reblog my posts here. I don’t care if you like my art. If you need me, I’m here.

Need someone to talk flower symbolism with because you want to write something involving it? I’ve got a few books about that and literally did a dissertation on Warhol’s use of it. Want a carefully crafted rant of what I think your blorbos would put on a pizza because everything sucks and you need something funny to take your mind off it? Done. Need someone to tell you that you’re doing your best and it’s okay if your best isn’t much more than ‘I woke up today’? Fantastic work you funky human, I am so proud of you for continuing to exist. Need resources for a specific concern and don’t have the mental bandwidth to find and vet them yourself? I’m happy to help however I can.

Also, just putting it out there. I take requests. I don’t charge for them, I operate on old fandom rules (gift economy, I can’t promise exactly when I get to it but I don’t charge for fan art/fic requests, and I will get to it if you ask and it’s even remotely in my wheelhouse). We all need something to cheer ourselves up right now, and if that happens to be a pretty picture of your favorite blorbos holding hands or a few thousand words of filthy ‘peg the literal patriarchy’ smut, or the most tooth rotting fluff known to humankind, or whatever else, I’m happy to be your friend for that. Creativity is how I cope with the oppressing weight of this bullshit, I’m happy to have people use mine to help them too.

we are going to have to make sure fandom is a safe space for everyone because it’s about to be the only safe space for certain people to exist in

#let’s stick together #us politics #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #inbox open #for literally anything #i love you #stay safe #stay happy #and fight like hell for your right to both

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politicalprof · 1 day ago

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On the election:

Thoughts? Sure. Lots of them:

--I have said from the beginning that this is a turnout election. Get me 2016 levels of turnout and Trump could well win. Get me 2020 levels of turnout and Harris would probably win. 2024's turnout is much closer to 2016 than 2020, so the electorate was whiter, more male, and older in 2024 than 2020. The people Harris needed to vote, didn't. Thus Trump won all or most of the swing states, and won the popular vote -- the first Republican to do so since 2004. (This is why I was a not a poll watcher: percentages in a poll do not translate directly into actual voting; in a turnout election actual voting is what matters.)

--I used to ask my classes, "will we have a Black president or a female president first? (Yes, I acknowledged the obvious "Black female" hole in that question.) The Black question was answered in 2008; we now have a further answer in that a candidate of the nature of Donald Trump has beaten two immensely qualified female candidates, one white and one woman of color -- both in low turnout elections. Apparently, America really, really, doesn't want a female president.

--Dobbs didn't matter, at least not as predicted. Women didn't "vote Harris" despite all claims they would do so, at least not at the predicted rates.

--Demography is not destiny. The Latino vote has moved toward Trump in three successive elections. I'd guess this is *because* of his anti-immigrant stances, not despite them: pulling up the ladder after you "make it" is an old part of American political life.

--[edit/added]: it's a global "throw the bums out" cycle. People are pissed for lots of reasons, and fairly or not, the "in power" people are feeling the pain. Such is the nature of political timing.

--The urban/rural split is a hell of a thing in American politics, and it's only going to get more intense over time as rural areas continue to empty but still get two Senators forever and ever and ever.

--There are a LOT of people who don't think of politics in either ideological or governance terms. They're not interested in whether a candidate means what he says or is capable of achieving the ends being promised. Rather, politics for these people is *entertainment.* What matters is the show. The "right" people need to be publicly valorized; the "wrong" people need to be attacked, humiliated, and hounded out of the public square. It's bread and circuses. As long as the entertainment continues they'll put up with the regime whatever it is doing to them in the background.

--Donald Trump remains the greatest politician in American history at dominating the news cycle, and thus feeding the entertainment machine. Every crazy, cruel, cantankerous thing he says gets re-amplified over and over again, driving everything else out of the political ecosystem. It's evil. But it's genius.

--I have long said that Donald Trump will never pay a meaningful price for his crimes, his corruption, and his cruelty. He will die in a golden bed surrounded by a harem of women and teams of acolytes singing his praises. It's not fair. But it's almost certainly true.

--A brief note on tariffs: when America relied on tariffs, the government was much smaller than it is now (meaning it needed less money to operate), and US economy activity was mostly concentrated in the US (meaning that it was hard for other countries to put retaliatory tariffs on US products). Neither of these things are true today. So, good luck with that.

I'm sure there's more. But that's a start.

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wlfchnlv3r · 2 days ago

Note

I saw requests were open and I’ve literally never sent in a request but you writing is so good I had to

Idk maybe minding x reader if you’re ok with that

Or nerd bang Chan with those glasses bro he looks so good haha

Or virgin reader n Lee know

Whatever one you think would be interesting or feel comfortable writing no pressure you obv don’t have to do any 🫶

Fem reader x gamer!Bangchan

Synopsis: Bangchan is your nerd gamer boyfriend, he is the most lovesick and clingy person you know, especially when he feels frustrated after losing at video games.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: 🔞, mdni, smut and fluff, pussy eating, vaginal sex, adult language, and bangchan with glasses.

Note: uhm…meow

Bangchan is in your shared bedroom playing video games, but at some point he loses the match and with a frustrated look he lets out a loud sigh, his hand slowly moving up to grip the back of his chair.

He feels annoyed and irritated from his loss since his rank has been dropping lately. A part of him wanted to scream in frustration, his eyes slowly moving over to the bed where he sees you napping peacefully.

Your boyfriend lets out another deep sigh, but his mood beginning to soften as he gazes at your sleeping form.

Standing up from his chair, he quietly approaches the bed, his footsteps soft and careful to not wake you up yet. He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes still fixated on you as he studies every feature of your face. A small smile appears on his face as he slowly reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and tender.

You move and open your eyes “channie..? Everything’s ok, babe?” You ask rubbing your sleepy eyes.

Bangchan hesitates silently for a moment, contemplating if he should ask you for something. But in the end, his need gets the better of him as he finally decides to open his mouth and speak “Actually..can I ask you for a favor?”, his eyes moving to the ground for a moment before glancing back to you, curious about your response.

“Of course…” you mumble a little.

“I..really need to let my frustration out after losing at that fucking video games...” your boyfriend says, his voice soft and hesitant as he looks down for a moment, his hand slightly clenching. He can slowly feel the annoyance he once felt from his loss slowly creep up. Bangchan slowly looks back into your eyes, almost as if silently asking permission.

You smiles and raises the bed sheets “come here…”.

A soft, shaky breath leaves his lips as he slowly scoots over to you. Pushing the sheets aside, Chan crawls on top of your body, trapping you between his arms on either side of your head "You..you really don’t mind..?”.

You just nods with anticipation.

A shiver runs down his spine at your response, his need and want for you starting to take over his mind. His eyes slowly scan over your face before moving down to your neck.

Your boyfriend slowly leans down, placing a soft kiss on your neck before moving up to your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin “I’m gonna let it out…and it’s all your fault…”.

You giggle “my fault, babe? What are you talking about?”.

He lightly bites your ear as he continues to leave kisses along your neck. He lets out a small chuckle, his hot breath sending chills over your skin “Mhm..It’s your fault for looking so damn cute, for looking so damn gorgeous, and for being so damn sweet to me…if you knew what you do to me..”.

You just look at him with a sincere smile.

Chan slowly pulls away from your neck, his eyes locking with yours. He can feel the need inside him quickly intensifying, a hint of possessiveness and desire slowly growing in his eyes “I need you so badly..” he says with a low, almost hoarse voice before softly capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

You kiss him back “you need me, babe? wanna make you feel good”.

A soft hum comes out of your boyfriend mouth, the feeling of you kissing him back and your words sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His hand continues to slowly move down your stomach before it suddenly stops, grabbing the hem of your shirt and slowly starts to pull it up slowly “You have no idea..how badly I need you right now..” he says.

“Just let it out…I want you too” you reassure him.

His breath hitches at your words, the possessive and dominant side of him starting to take full control. BAngchan nods, a hint of a growl in his tone as his eyes darkened with desire “Babe, you have no idea..how badly you’re mine right now…how badly I want to dominate, to claim, to mark you as mine…are you okay with that..?” He asks gently.

You start to blush because of his words, you love when he is like this.

His hands slowly pulling your shirt over and off in one swift motion. Your boyfriend quickly tosses the shirt onto the ground before slowly moving in to kiss and bite your neck once again, leaving small marks as his hand starts to move to the hem of your shorts “Then you’re mine, all mine..no one else can see you like this... this side of you is only for me, understand...?" he asks in a deep, dark voice, his lips still against your neck, as he slowly starts to pull down your shorts. Once they were off, Chan moves in between your legs, his body now on top of you.

You smile a little watching the bulge into his sweatpants “damn baby u are already hard”.

He smiles in response, chuckling at her words. His body was already beginning to react to you, the heat between his legs growing more and more with every second passing by.

Your boyfriend slowly moves his hips forward a little bit, pressing his dick onto yo just a bit more as a small soft moan escaped his lips, "What can I say...I was already hard the moment I saw you".

You just chuckle, he is always been impatient, “yes, babe?”.

He nodded, a small amused smile on his lips as he watched her chuckle. Chan presses a little more into her, a small shiver going through his body. His hands slowly slide up and down her stomach in a gentle caress, his touch light and intimate "Mhm...l couldn't help it. Not when my girl just looked so damn good, even when she laid there trying to take a nap...".

You can’t help but smirk, starting to lower his pants and boxer, his pink tip is already wet with precum; You smile with anticipation and caress his tip, you always loved doing it and seeing his reaction.

A soft moan escapes his lips as soon your hand touches his length. His eyes close for a moment as his body shivered in pleasure.

"F-fuck...don't tease me like that... not when I'm on the edge of just taking you right here right now...".

Your boyfriend takes a moment to gather himself, his eyes opening to look back down at you.

His hand slowly moves down her body, caressing her skin softly "I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this, to mark you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible...".

You squirm when he starts to rub your clit.

A wave of pleasure washes over him as he feels how badly you want him just from his touch "Look at you...so needy and desperate just from my touch. This is what I was waiting for, to see you this under me”

“C-chan” you whine.

The sight of you so needy and desperate just for him makes his heart race. His hand continues to rub your swollen clit, his touch purposeful and precise.

“C-chan I want more-“ you whine.

A small chuckle leaves bangchan’s lips at your plea. He leans close to your ear again, his voice low and dark as he spoke against your skin "You know...you're gonna have to be patient, babe.”.

He slowly moves his hand away from your wet pussy, bringing it up to gently caress your face softly as he continues to speak

"I'm gonna take my time with you tonight... make you moan and scream my name so much you'll lose your voice.”.

You laugh a little giving him a quick kiss “my favorite nerd wants to worship me”

Your boyfriend returns the kiss, his lips molding with yours in a perfect fit. The title of "nerd" never got old to him "Babe...you know I'm your nerd, and that I love to worship you".

“You are only mine…” you speak with a soft voice.

"Damn right I'm only yours. No one else's".

Your boyfriend’s lips continuing their path downwards, slowly kissing and tasting everv inch of you.

"I want to taste every part of you, claim you as mine..."

An idea pops to your mind “Mhh I like your plan, what do you think about using those sweet lips of yours in a different way?”

Chan slowly pulls away from your neck, a small smile appearing on his lips a he looks back at you "And what exactly would you like me to use those sweet lips of mine on, eh?“.

“Oh, You know what I want…nerd” you tease him.

"Mhm...so desperate to have my mouth on you... is that what you want?".

“Of course, what you think?” You giggle.

He slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of small kisses as they go. He gets in between your legs, taking a moment to look up at her and admire the view. Seeing you this desperate and in need of him, just for him, is enough to send a shiver of pleasure through him "You're so damn beautiful like this, babe".

You just smile and fix his glasses “so cute babe”

Your boyfriend lets out a small chuckle, his smile widening a bit more as you suddenly fix his glasses. Only you would do that in such a situation and have him feel not even an ounce of annoyance "You're calling me cute when I’m right in front of your pussy?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle mocking him “I love when your face is between my legs like this, I’m dead serious”

Bangchan hums in agreement, his face mere inches away from your wet cunt.

You gently tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer.

He lets out a soft gasp, your touch, no matter how gentle, is more than enough for him to get even more in the mood.

He slowly moves in, his lips just barely touching your skin as he leaves soft, feather-like kisses and his hands slowly move to your hips, his nails digging into your skin a bit as his lips slowly slide closer to your swollen clit.

Your boyfriend can feel how much your squirming under him, eager in anticipation of what's to come.

You moan lightly pulling him more closer.

He finally gives in, his lips and tongue touching your clit “Mhm...so impatient”.

You whimper loudly “f-fuck chan-“ you curse.

He moans softly against your skin as he finally tastes you, his lips and tongue slowly exploring your cunt, enjoying the way you squirm and whimper under him, all needy for his touch.

"You taste so good, babe...l swear I could spend all day just savoring you like this..."

Chan continues to slowly runs his tongue over her skin, his lips and tongue taking their time to savor every inch of you and, his hold on your hips getting tighter as you pull his hair.

"God, I love it when you get desperate for me like this, babe... you look so damn gorgeous like this, all needy and wanting me so badly..." he praises you more.

You close your eyes “god- channie...” you are lost in pleasure. Far from reality.

He slowly starts to speed up his movements, his lips and tongue moving more quickly over her, trying to taste every inch he can since he can't get enough of you.

You are so drawn in the moment that you don’t want him to stop.

Your boyfriend pulls away for a moment to look up at you, a small satisfied smirk on his lips as he sees the state she's in.

"God, look at you, babe...you're such a whiney mess, cause you need me that badly...".

You nod in agreement still with your eyes close “...c-channie...m close” you admit.

"Mhm, you close, babe? You gonna give me what I want?" Bangchan teases "Mhm, since you are so sweet, I'll let you let come for me”.

After a few moments you can’t take it anymore, your legs start shaking a little and you come undone.

He moans feeling you coming for him, that makes him feel a shiver of pleasure as he slowly moves back up to look at her.

"Mhmm, you're so damn gorgeous when you come, seeing you like that, all shaking and moaning, just for me, it’s so fucking sexy” your boyfriend chuckles softly, his breath still coming out in pants as he gazes down at you.

He's still need to fuck you, to claim you as his even more than before, but right now he wants to watch you all pleased and satisfied after coming.

Despite the orgasm you want more, you want to make him feel good, honestly.

"Mhmm, want more, do you, babe?

You want me to take you once more, make you mine all over again?".

You just nod, with a smirk on your face as you start teasing him “you are such a naughty nerd, you know that, right?”

Chan chuckles softly, the sound low and sultry as he moves even closer to you, his lips hovering only millimeters away from your neck "I’m your naughty nerd, babe. Only yours. No one else can have me like this, just you. No one knows me as well as you do... only you can make me feel this way, get me all feral and desperate for you like this"

You laugh a little “You seem so calm and shy but you are such a-“.

"Oh? I seem calm and shy, do I?

Well, I guess that's only with other people, not with you...you bring out a whole other side of me, a side that's possessive and feral and completely addicted to you" he admits.

You are going insane “I'm also addicted to you, chan”.

Your boyfriend slowly smiles, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest at your words.

The thought of you being just as addict to him as he is to you makes him feel more possessive than ever before.

"Babe, I want to claim you again as mine, over and over again, until our bodies and minds are too exhausted for even me to want more" he speaks in a soft tone.

You just take the chance and mock him “you think you can take me till I'm a leaking with your cum?”.

A low, deep groan leaves Chan’s lips at your mockery as he looks down at you with a smirk “you think I can't? You really think my stamina isn't up to the task of making you a dripping mess by the end, babe?" he groans against your skin, slightly nibbling on it “well, I'll take that challenge..."

You start to rub his tip against you as he groans, the sensation of you touching him making it hard for him to think straight, the need for her growing stronger with every second “can’t take it anymore, I need you”

Your boyfriend press his hard cock on your cunt, sliding into you slowly, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him, his breath coming out in heavy pants as he tries to keep control of himself "F-fuck...you feel so tight around me, I’m going to fuck you dumb”.

“God- Chan…” you whimper loudly taking him so well.

Bangchan moans slightly at the sound of his name leaving her lips, hearing it when you are together like this is quickly becoming his favorite sound in the world "you feel so amazing, babe, l swear that pulling out from your pretty cunt is the last thing I want to do".

You are fully drawn in to his deep movement that make you arches your back and moan.

His hands grips your hips and his fingers starts to dig into your skin from the pleasure "F-fuck, you don't know what you do to me when you look like that, l can't even think straight when you're so goddamn perfect"

“You- you feel so good inside me, babe” you mumble so cock drunk.

Chan’s mind feels like it's becoming more and more undone as he hears your words and the way you look, feel and sounds are driving him wild.

You kiss him in a sloppy way, trying so hard to compose yourself; You clench your legs around his waist to keep you still.

He groans as you cling to him, holding him closer, the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him makes his body burn with desire, only fueling his heat for you.

“ I’m so-so close channie…” you speak in a whisper.

Your boyfriend hears your words, knowing you are close to your climax, and it only makes his mind more clouded with the need to make you completely come undone beneath him “shit, babe, you're gonna give me what I want?" And before he can finish his sentence you come undone, Your mind fuzzy from the orgasm making impossible for you to say anything.

Feeling and hearing you come is driving him even closer to his own release as he lets out a deep, rough groan.

Your walls tightening on his cock are his breaking point, his body completely going over the edge as he comes, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

"F-fuck, y-you're amazing- god...I swear, you're gonna kill me one day”

After a few minutes of shaking breaths you try to move from under him, but Chan chuckle, grabbing onto your hips to drag you back to him “where are you going, babe? I’m not done with you yet, remember the challenge?”

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse

(Comment to be added to the tag list🎐)

#bang chan #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #bangchan x y/n #skz fanfic #bangchan fanfic #skz #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfic

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a-student-out-of-time · 1 day ago

Text

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

#mod talks #a student out of time #real talk #real life stuff #cw: current events #cw: the election

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amypihcs · 1 day ago

Photo

I took the liberty of writing something for this beautiful art - i have a weakness for retired them! Hope you like it!

How I still love you…

Dr Watson smiled as he sat up once more on the sand.

Holmes was still swimming like the dolphin Watson at time suspected him to be and the Sun was beginning to warm the small beach just in the right way. Holmes would come out of the water in a bit, shivering like a wet kitten and ready to be wrapped up in a soft towel. The doctor sighed deeply, contentedly as he let the Sun warm his face, leaning back on his elbows as he felt the morning breeze play with his hair; that was, he thought, Holmes' deeper essence, the one that came out as he was swimming on an early autumn morning.

Holmes still had that fresh, mischievous grin, that open smile underlined by so many thin lines around his mouth and his eyes that was only for the two of them. He always grinned in that way that make him look 27 again when he dove underwater for the first time during his morning swim.

Seeing his husband approaching the shore again, the doctor stood up and prepared his towel.

He lost himself for a long moment admiring him climb to his feet and walk out of the water, delighted at how they had changed since when they had met, since when Holmes had come back home.

The constant tension he had had in the last years before Reichenbach and retained for a long while even after his return was gone, leaving space to a more relaxed but still explosive strength, clear even in his most languid moments. His long limbs and long, thin body were still strong and sinewy, but he was a bit less gaunt, the doctor was always happy to notice that counting his ribs wasn’t so easy as it has once been, before Switzerland, when they had been young, or right after he returned.

Holmes’ eyes twinkled with joy as the doctor wrapped him tight and he leaned down to kiss him.

“The water was delicious, mon chevalier, what were you staring at?” Smiled he.

“Not at what, to whom. And you know of course who I was admiring, dear Holmes. You are beautiful.”

“You are, it’s always such a tragedy when you don’t bathe with me. – Grinned Holmes, eyes twinkling with mischief and love. – But you always take such good care of me.” He purred.

Watson chuckled and hugged his partner tight, feeling his strength. “Making sure that you don’t freeze to death, my dearest love.”

Watson smiled and put another quick kiss on his Holmes’ lip as the detective wrapped his arms around his partner’s waist. “What are you thinking about, my dear?” Asked Holmes.

Watson smiled impishly. “I’m thinking that you’re getting my waistcoat wet, my dearest.” He joked, then he leaned up to kiss his lips again.

“Or perhaps – He continued as he bent to take another towel to rub his hair dry. – To how much I love you.” He smiled as the detective took the towel from his hands and bent to steal one more kiss from his lips.

The doctor laughed looking at his husband, still as enthusiastic, curious, joyful and still as lovely as he had looked so many years before at St Bart’s, when his first action upon seeing a young and wounded soldier had been to drag him behind a bench and show him the reagent he had just discovered.

And Watson’s love for him still had not ceased to grow deeper with every day that they shared.

the only person who is like you

#my fic #fanfic for fanart #holmes/watson #victorian husbands #retired victorian husbands #beeretirement #sherlock holmes #dr watson #writing those sappy old men #to cope with the situation

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camillelespanayesbtch · 3 days ago

Text

Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)

Summary: It isn't your fault you like the feeling of power, the sensation was addictive, and although it never worked out well for those around you, it certainly worked well for you. You weren't to blame that people seldom survived attacking you, it was their fault after all. But you can only run for so long before your misdeeds catch up to you, and where will you be left after? It's dangerous to walk certain paths alone as a young witch.

Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)

Word Count: 4690

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Chapter One

You hum to yourself as you follow the marks you carved into the trees, a hidden path you had created that left those who follow you believing you were the perfect victim, blissfully unaware of the danger that followed you. You could hear the boys talking among themselves, their gleeful snickering as they think about all the things they could do to you now that they had you alone and unaware. Like most evenings, the forest was a cacophony of sound, there wasn’t an inch of space where there was silence, every crevasse had sound, even the ants clicked to one another to inform the other of the crumbs of bread that were left abandoned on the floor of the community hall that hosted giants. The leaves crunch underfoot, small twigs snapping as you step on them, continuing to hum the tune until you come to a clearing in the forest.

There was a space where no leaves were, a perfect circle that had been made over years of the same trick, black as the night sky is dark. “Look boys,” Douglas says with a grin, “She’s made a spot for fucking, just for us.” He moves closer to you, the others surrounding you as well, all of them giving each other encouraging looks. They didn’t believe the stories about boys going missing because every coven had tales like that, even the girls were told tales about their powers being taken when lured to walk the witch’s road, but everyone believed that it was just the danger of the road and not one of their own doing it. “I wonder if her tits are as big as her top makes them look,” Douglas says, advancing on you quickly, his hands twitching by his side as he thinks about tearing your shirt from your body.

“I’ve seen them through her window when she changes,” Clint says, “They’re small, no bigger than a handful, but at least they’re perky.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes glinting dangerously. This wasn’t his first time taking what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be his last, just like the other boys he was with- if he sees something he wants, he takes it. His mother did raise him to be respectful towards women, especially those in the coven, but she always spoke about you as being the exception. You were the freak of the group, the one people whispered about, warned the kids to stay away from least you corrupt them. So, really, what he and his friends were about to do wasn’t a bad thing, it was deserved. “We should take pictures and add them to the wall.”

“We should take pictures and add them to the wall,” you mimic, turning to face them. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to keep trophies? Or was that too much for your tiny little boy-brains to comprehend?” You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh as you shake a few knots loose. You were hungry, and these boys would be enough to last you a few weeks. Sure, they weren’t as powerful as the elders, too jumped up on the testosterone coursing through their bodies to focus on mastering the craft, instead relying on brute force to get things done. “Didn’t mommy teach you better? Or even your fathers? No, I suppose not. No, daddy left you boys behind, didn’t he? Went off to go fuck some young maiden the next town over,” you make a vulgar gesture, thrusting your hips before laughing when you see the group clench their fists in anger. “Oh no, did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do? Blast me?”

It would only take one. It only ever takes one, but they didn’t know that. Of course they didn’t know that they barely knew how to groom themselves let alone see the signs of a trap, to even see that sometimes there is truth in the tales they have been told since childhood. You mightn’t have believed the ones about the Purple Witch, but you wouldn’t deny that there is something alluring about her. The ability to take someone’s powers? You wondered what it felt like, if it was as addictive as watching people burn, using their own powers to cause their deaths. “Lucas and Clint, hold her down,” Douglas orders, his eyes burning into yours.

The two boys he orders raise their hands, their magic shooting from their hands and wrapping around your wrists. They both were smirking until they see the lopsided grin on your face, a darkness settling into your eyes. You breathe in deep through your nose, tilting your head back up to the sky as your eyes drift shut, feeling the warmth starting to spread through your body and bloom out from your palms, “Oh boys,” you exhale. “Silly, stupid, little boys.” Your head rolls forward and you open your eyes to look at them, a fire burning in your eyes that makes them take a step back. “Didn’t you hear the stories? Didn’t your mother tell you not to go into the woods at night?”

“She’s just- She’s just bluffing,” Douglas stutters, “She’s just trying to scare us.” He puffs his chest out in false bravado before moving closer to you, his hands coming up to tear the front of your blouse open, but he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back. Your body had grown hot to the touch, as though he had just put his hands over the hot embers of a campfire, “What trickery is this?”

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” You yank your hands free of Clint and Lucas’ magic, grabbing a handful of Douglas’ shirt, and pulling him so his body was against yours, a feral grin spreading across your face. “Smell that?” You lean in, taking a deep breath as the scent of burning fabric starts to fill the air, “Maybe you can feel it. It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I wonder if I’ll see eyes explode this time like popcorn.” You stare at him intensely, your hands glowing like magma as you start to cook him from the inside out, feeling his energy seeping out of him and into you. You let out a content sigh a the sensation, watching as his eyes go wide, his skin turning a deep red before starting to melt from his muscles and bones. He cries out in agony, trying to get away from you, to put the fire out inside of him but it was of no use, and soon he falls to the ground, his body quickly going up in flames. “Now,” you smile and turn to look at the other boys who were looking on in horror, “Who’s next?”

“You’re a monster,” Clint says, clenching his fists, “He didn’t even do anything to you! We were just playing!” He was quick to attack you, seemingly forgetting what he had just witnessed you do to his friend. You eagerly drink his energy up, your body glowing like a reactor before his body turns into barbecue. He claws at his clothes, trying to remove the flaming fabric from his body as he writhes on the ground, his screams drowning out the music of songbirds. You wonder if the woods would muffle the sound so it didn’t carry to the houses that lived along the edge of it, that the neighbors wouldn’t have their windows open to let the warm spring breeze in. Then again, if you didn’t want them to hear, you simply shouldn’t be doing what you are, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You enjoy it too much. You enjoy luring men into the woods, using their own powers to burn them alive as some sort of penance for all the women burned before you because their power was seen as a threat.

You take a few breaths to calm yourself, looking at your hands, they were turning black, tendrils creeping up your forearm and tickling your inner-elbow. This happened every time, the only evidence of your crimes. They were easy to hide though, you wore long-sleeves, and had a pair of gloves that your mother gave you to protect you from the judgmental gaze of your coven. Your mother wasn’t consciously aware of what you were doing, thinking you were just going into the woods to practice your craft, but she couldn’t deny it was suspicious that boys kept going missing whenever you did.

The remaining boys fall quickly, you wave your hands, letting out a hot blast of fire that turns their remains to ash. You knew the rain would disperse the ashes, returning them to the earth and helping to keep the forest alive, although your circle never grew back- the grass has remained dead and black for years. You were in your twenties now, and you had been doing this since you were sixteen. You do the buttons back up on your blouse then pull your sleeves down, doing the cuff buttons up so the sleeves wouldn’t go out of place. You flick your hair from your face, a smile settling on your features as you start to head back, humming to yourself once more.

As you walk, you stop occasionally to pick some flowers for your mom, making a bouquet for her. Your father wasn’t around to do this for her, not that he had done such thoughtful things when he was alive, that had always been your thing. You loved making your mom smile because it meant she wasn’t worrying about anything which had become her normal. If she wasn’t worrying about you getting in trouble, she was worrying about the coven being run out of town, and if she wasn’t worrying about that, she was worrying about taxes which only seemed to go up every year. It’s not that you couldn’t afford the taxes, she had been around for centuries, she had more than enough money to cover them, but it was still an unnecessary stress in her life that she simply did not need. If you could get away with it, you would burn the tax collector alive, maybe even roast him over a fire like you would toast a marshmallow.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A familiar voice asks, disappointment evident in her tone. “I tell them- I tell them every meeting that it isn’t you, that my daughter would never bring harm to her coven, and every time you go out and prove me wrong.”

You look up from the flowers you were examining, your features falling, “Mama… I- They attacked me,” you explain. “I was just coming here to practice, like you always want me to. And they followed me, taunting me, telling me all the horrible things they were going to do to me.” You turn your head slightly, just enough to see the open area out the corner of your eye that was a few hundred feet away by now before looking back at your mom. You try to smile, holding the sad looking bouquet out for her, “I picked you flowers. Your favorites. I know you like having fresh flowers in the house because you like when the bees-“

“Enough,” she cuts you off, “Enough,” she repeats, softer this time. She walks closer to you, a sadness on her face as she gently takes your free hand in hers- your skin was like charcoal, and still hot to the touch like the furnace in winter. Her heart aches painfully in her chest, why was her only child like this? Had she done something wrong? Those questions hurt her; how could she think so poorly of you? She loves you dearly, she would do anything for you, absolutely anything for you, why couldn’t you do this one thing for her? Her touch was soft, cooling your burning skin as she runs her fingers over it, your skin slowly turning back to your normal shade. She turns your hand over so your palm was facing her, running her finger in a circle on your palm, a small smile tugging on her lips, “Round and round the garden,” she whispers, “Went the teddy bear, one step,” she walks her finger up your forearm, healing as she goes, “two step,” another step onto your bicep, “Tickle you under there,” she says and gently tickles your underarm, a soft giggle escaping her. “You used to squeal whenever I did that to you as a toddler.”

You can’t help the quiet giggle you let out, unaware of the tears spilling from your eyes, “Mama,” you whisper back, “I’m not a little kid anymore.” She gives your arm a squeeze at that, looking pained by the reminder. You rest your hand over hers, looking remorseful immediately, “I know- I know I’m still your little girl. You still make my boo boo’s better.” You look down at your hands, they were no longer black as tar, and you could see the blue and purple of your veins on the backs of them instead of a deep red that glowed against the black. You felt a knot form in your stomach, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they, mama?” You ask her quietly, a waver in your voice. “For what I’ve done- They’re gonna burn me.”

Your mom blinks back tears but it was futile, the salty liquid running down her cheeks, “When they find out,” she replies softly, “Yes. They will.” She raises her hand to tenderly stroke your cheek, and as always, you lean into her touch. Her thumb brushes against your rosy skin, wiping away any tear that dared to fall. She didn’t know how long you would both have together, whether she could wash your hair and braid flowers into it, or whether now was the only time you two would get. “Why couldn’t you stop?”

“I can’t help it, mama, you know that,” you answer, your eyes closing as you relax into her touch. Her hands never caused the same pain and suffering that yours have, they have always healed and protected. There was never a moment where she didn’t help someone, where she turned them away when they showed up to the door pleading for her to make their sick child better. There was always a spare bed for the child or adult to recover, your mother watching over them during the night to ensure their condition didn’t worsen. You. You had always been the one to hurt, to harm, to inflict suffering and pain. Your mother, try as she might to get you to do things for the betterment of the coven such as burning the fields to return the nutrients to the earth, or helping start the bonfires for when there was a community barbecue, even trying to get you to take out the wolves that threatened the farm animals, but it never satiated you.

It wasn’t until you turned sixteen did it become a problem, but she brushed it off because you had been terribly bullied, she kept brushing it off when the first group of boys went missing. She had moved you both after that, found another coven. Six months of peace before it happened again. Every time, you would come home with blackened skin and a bouquet of flowers. She never had to worry about running out of dried flowers for her potions, the basement was full of them, your peace offerings to her. You always were so sincere in your apologies, and she believed you every time, why wouldn’t she? “They deserved it,” you add, “They were going to hurt me.”

“Not every single boy was out to hurt you, surely, sweetheart. What about Tommy? He was always so kind to you, he tutored you. You were friends.”

Tommy had been your friend two moves ago, you two had bonded over being excluded from most of the college class you were enrolled in, even the lecturer refused to acknowledge you in class. You both were good students, handing your assignments in on time and not once even asking for an extension. You thought you were just friends, you told him you only liked women, and he told you he was okay with it. You had gone over to his house one afternoon to study for an upcoming exam, the two of you were in his room on his bed reading notes when he had asked you if you’d ever kissed anyone before. The question made your skin crawl, “No,” you had answered, “I haven’t.” He got this look in his eyes at that answer, his hand had come up to turn your head to face him before he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, pocking and prodding your throat. You had frozen; your eyes wide as he assaulted you. It wasn’t until he had pulled back did the anger kick in. You don’t really remember much of what happened, only running out of the house as the fire department showed up to extinguish the flames, two of the firefighters checking over you for injuries. You had told your mother what happened, what he did, and she had brushed it off, saying it was just how it was done- nobody needed to ask for permission to kiss, it was spontaneous. You had cried in your room that night, you didn’t understand why your mom didn’t see why it was wrong of him to do that to you. She knew you liked women, why on earth would you ever want some man to kiss you?

“We- You know what he did to me, mama. He hurt me. He hurt me,” you tell her, more tears falling onto your cheeks, “He knew I didn’t like him like that. Every single one of them deserved it.” That wasn’t true, there had been a couple of groups you took out because you enjoyed the thrill of it, the screams, the feeling of power that filled your system. Even thinking about it now made you giddy, your pupils dilating as though a drug was coursing its way through your system. “You have to believe me, mama, please.”

Her hand falls from your face, “We should head back. You need a shower, and I’d like to braid your hair.” Her voice was cold, the older woman turning her back on you, not even taking the flowers from your hand. She usually hummed with you, the same song she sang to you as a child, but tonight the only sound was the owls hooting in the forest. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve, holding the flowers close to you as you follow along behind her. You hum quietly to yourself, looking up into the trees to see the glowing eyes of birds watching you. There was something comforting about them being so attentive, like they were looking out for the inhabitants that called the woods their home, even as they swoop on the mice that scamper across the leafy floor. It was the balance of things, and even as they eat the mice, they too would return to the earth and continue the cycle anew.

When you get home, your mother sits on a chair and has you sit on the floor between her legs as she starts to braid your hair, her fingers working deftly. She carefully takes the dried flowers and works them into your hair, willing the protection to keep you safe when the leaders come knocking. Only now does she hum, the strands of gold that hold the flowers in place starting to glow. She new deep down this day would come, that moving towns, cities, states would only get you so far because the tales that were told about a witch of destruction would catch up to you, that one coven was going to be smart enough to figure things out and realize it is one of their own. “You’ve always had such beautiful hair,” she murmurs, adding another flower to the braid and tying it into place, “Ever since you left my body, you had a mop of hair on your head. Whenever you woke in the morning, your hair was all over the place, and it would take so much water to tame it.”

“I’ve seen the photos,” you reply with a giggle, your eyes closed as you relax, enjoying the calming sensation of your mom braiding your hair. There had been times she had yelled at you for not brushing your hair, threatening to cut it all off if you didn’t want to take care of it. She had always apologized afterwards though, blaming her anger on something that had been said in a coven meeting as she carefully brushed the knots and tangles from your hair. “How long do we have?”

Your mother doesn’t look up from your hair, the wards she had set around the house were starting to crumble, only meant to slow them down, “Not long, my dear,” she picks the hairtie up and ties the braid off, securing a crystal in with it. “There,” she says, running her hand lightly over her work before you turn to look at her, your eyes holding the light of a thousand flames, “My beautiful girl. If you survive, you know you must never return.” Her hand caresses your cheek, her eyes held the river of life which you always loved looking into because you could feel the cool refreshing water wash over you, keeping you calm.

“I can’t leave you behind, mama. I can’t- I promised you that I would look after you,” you rest your hand over hers, they were the perfect balance. It always made you laugh how whenever her hands were cold, yours were burning hot, and on the rare occasion hers were warm, yours were colder than the glacier high in the mountains. You didn’t want to leave her behind, she would be an outcast unless she participated in your execution which she was unlikely to do because despite everything you have put her through, she still loves you and you knew there was nothing stronger than a mother’s love. “I can’t go without you.”

“You have to, sweetheart. You must find your own path, in a coven that will understand you,” she pulls back from you when the front door flies open, standing up she calls out to them. “She’s in here!” She looks at you, pain visible in her eyes, “She killed them! I saw it with my own eyes. No daughter of mine shall harm our coven.”

You felt your spirit break, unable to realize she was doing this for a reason, to keep herself safe, to keep you safe from seeing her harmed. “Mama-“ You start, struggling against the witches as they bind you with their magic, “Mama, please,” you beg, “Please don’t let them do this to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do it, mama.” The women haul you to your feet, the magic tightening around your wrists behind your back, cutting off the circulation to your hands.

“I saw the look in your eyes, Yn. You enjoyed it.” She follows the other women out of the house, the path to the stake lined with other members of the coven holding burning torches. “I’ll bind her to the stake,” your mother tells the women, “To make up for what I have done. I have let this coven down too many times before, I won’t let it happen again.” Her magic felt different this time as it wraps itself around you, your hands pulled taut behind the stake, the cold no longer soothing, instead it felt icy, the frost burning your skin. She couldn’t look you in the eyes, she didn’t want you to see how much this was hurting her, and she didn’t want to see how betrayed you looked as she prepared to watch her daughter burn.

“I never thought I’d see the day, Theodora,” the elder-witch comments, “Preparing to burn your own flesh and blood after so long of defending her. Had this evening turned out differently, you would be on that stake along with her, there is no doubt about that.” She gestures for the others to surround you, a group of six women all part of the higher counsel, and every single one of them deeming you guilty. There was no room in their coven for someone like you, someone so dangerous, someone without remorse. Were they unbiased in their judgement? Four of them were not, all having lost a son to you. The other two had daughters, but even they feared that one day your hatred would spread to women. Although whenever their daughters had caught a glimpse of you, their cheeks turned as red as a rose, and a carefree giggle escaped them which they thought was arguably worse. “Get into position, Theodora. It’s time.”

“Mama please,” you beg, “Please. I didn’t mean to. I can’t control it. Please.” You look at her, desperate for her to believe you one last time, “Please, mama. Tell them. Tell them that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t mean to. That they hurt me too.”

Your mother wanted to stroke your cheek one last time, to wipe your tears away but she couldn’t do that, not anymore. She breathes you in, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo you used before stepping down from the platform and joining the other women encircling you. “I should have let you burn the first time,” is all she says.

The elder-witch gives a nod, everyone raising their hands in preparation, “Begin!” She commands, their powers shooting out of their hands and hitting you full force, a pained scream tearing itself from your throat. It felt like your insides were being roasted, your skin prickling from the heat. It was agony, you had never felt anything like this before and you wanted it to stop.

“Please!” You scream, your head falling back against the stake, “Stop! I can’t-“ You could feel that familiar sensation starting to build in your stomach, and it wouldn’t be long until it broke free. “Mama- Mama run!” Your face was wet with tears, your head tipping forward, your eyes making contact with your mom’s. She couldn’t run, you both knew this, but you hoped this last time she would break the rules for you. The binding around your wrist starts falter, the women behind you noticing it.

“Elder- Her bindings! She’s going to break free!” One of them exclaims yet she does not stop her attack on you, none of them do because they hoped that if they continued, you would finally burn.

The elder-witch encourages them to push through it, “She is glowing! We are close! Keep going!” Your mother knew what was about to happen, finally she meets your eyes, mouthing an apology to you before the blast happens, all the women letting out agonizing screams as the fall to the ground ablaze. You slump somewhat against the wooden stake, your hair blowing in the draft created from the fires, your skin flush a deep red and your hands glowing brighter than the sun. You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t mean to, you begged for them not to do this. You warned them you couldn’t control it. You were going to wallow in that feeling until you remembered your mother. You look around frantically, counting the bodies: seven. Your mother-

“Mama-“ You jump down from the pedestal and rush over to where she had last been, sinking to your knees as you desperately try and put out the flames. She was unrecognizable, her skin blackened and burned. “Mama, I’m sorry,” you sob, cradling her burnt body close to you. She was the only person to look out for you, the only one to have stood by your side, and you had repaid her by killing her. Your tears drip from your chin and onto her corpse, the tears evaporating before they even touch her skin. You look down at her, “I’m sorry.”

#Agatha Harkness #Agatha Harkness x reader #Kathryn Hahn #Kathryn Hahn x reader #Agatha All Along #Agatha Harkness imagine #Kathryn Hahn imagine

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antimonyandthyme · 15 hours ago

Note

carcar 28 if you are still doing prompts :)

carcar pt 1; curse of obedience/can’t disobey a direct order

“So,” Oscar says, “if I were to say—”

“Don’t,” Carlos says, all urgent, eyes wider than Oscar’s ever seen them. “Oscar!”

He’ll remember this moment after. Go back to it every so often, when his brain sees fit to carve out versions of himself to dissect. Savage, impulsive. Vindictive even. Couldn’t even have picked something non-life threatening, like Drink this drip coffee, which I know you’d rather die than put on your tongue. Had to go for this.

“—run out into traffic, without looking—”

Carlos stands up so fast the chair clatters behind him. Bit of a shock. Oscar looks around, waits for the crowd to laugh along, for him to be allowed in on the prank. The café’s busy, people rippling past them to get to where they need to be. Carlos turns toward the door.

“Carlos,” Oscar says. The vacant look on Carlos’s face scrapes against Oscar’s bare skin like a grater. “What are you doing?”

Carlos gives no response, eyes trained only on the door. Dimly, Oscar wonders if this is how he looks under the helmet.

No, no. Even while racing, Carlos wouldn’t look like this. Surely, his jaw would run askew, his teeth would find his lower lip, his eyes dance bright and hungry.

“Carlos,” Oscar says again. He barely registers his pulse spiking.

Two steps are all it takes for Carlos to get up to full speed, as if he’s got a rabid dog on his heels. He’s a bullet shot out the door, a blur of red.

Oscar’s supposed to have reflexes made from lightning. Fastest in the world, isn’t he? But he stares, uncomprehending, and stares some more through the endless bay windows, as Carlos, uncaring that the crosswalk’s sign is still red, dashes onto the road. He runs, cutting through the continuous stream of metal as if his body were made of something divine.

A car swerves violently, a honk sounds. The ignition Oscar needs to snap out of his daze. Combustion, power. He propels forward, mouth already formed around syllables.

“Carlos,” he screams. “Carlos, stop! Come back!”

He must not be able to hear me. That must be the only reason Carlos keeps running, narrowly avoiding a speeding motorcycle. What did he say, when Oscar was dismissing his confession as a joke? He said—he’s being made to listen, right? To listen and obey. Oscar just has to reach him, so Carlos can listen.

Carlos is too far ahead, outstripping Oscar with an unrecognizable single-mindedness. Oscar’s yelling himself hoarse, but it’s too loud all around them, tires screeching, tearing at his ears. Chaos around them, Oscar unable to reign it in. Even in the rainiest conditions, he’d been able to find more grip than this.

The crosswalk melts onto the sidewalk, and for a blessed second, Oscar thinks it’s over, that Carlos has done all he’s needed to do, carried out the cruel task Oscar’s laid out for him like the gods before Heracles.

Then Carlos turns the corner, still running.

“Carlos!” Oscar’s face is wet, for some reason. A flickering image of Carlos meeting a car sears itself into the back of his eyelids, spills more liquid out. “Come back, please! Please, god. Come back.”

Clarity, even in panic. If he’s braved speeds most people can’t comprehend, forces that could bend and even break a neck, then what is running blind into traffic?

He doesn’t look as he steps off the curb this time. Adjusts his focus to match Carlos’s. Speeds up in a way that is second nature. A driver swearing at him, a blinding flash from a headlight too close for comfort, but Oscar keeps running. Slowly but surely gaining on his target, overtaking within his reach.

“Stop,” he begs. “Carlos, you can stop now.”

Carlos’s feet ground to a halt.

Momentum carries him to a collision. Oscar flings his arms around Carlos, drags him out of the way just as a truck blares past their intended path.

“Asshole, you fucking asshole.” Big, gulping, uneven inhales. “Why did I, why did I go to you, I’m such an idiot, why did I even think you would, ah, fuck. Fuck.” His voice cracks into tiny pieces. “Stupid, stupid. Such a fucking idiot.”

Oscar tightens his hold around Carlos. Dead man’s grip, he’s not letting go. Even though they’re both shaking so hard each breath feels like a bruise. Carlos’s shoulder knocks into Oscar’s teeth, hard enough to cut his lip. Doesn’t matter, he’s not letting go. Oscar tugs Carlos, still trembling, over to the wall of the deserted street they’ve found themselves in. He sinks to the ground, back against the wall, pulling Carlos down with him.

“Breathe,” he says, a little hysterically. “Carlos, come on. Breathe.”

Deep, deep breaths, swelling through both their bodies. Fuck, fuck. Was that also a command? Could he tell Carlos to stop breathing and would Carlos just stop—

“Breathe!” Oscar nearly shouts, to force all other thoughts out of his head. “Carlos, listen to me, you’re alright.”

“—hate you,” Carlos is saying furiously. Oscar squeezes his eyes shut against the pain that lances through him. Nothing like the sting of his bleeding lip; this settles far deeper. “I can’t believe I, you. You.” More air, sucked through rattling lungs. “I shouldn’t have come to you.”

“Why did you?” Oscar says brokenly. He squeezes Carlos to him, then even though he shouldn’t, shouldn’t be allowed to, buries his forehead in the dip between Carlos’s shoulder blades. Selfishly uses Carlos to buttress himself. “Tell me.”

Another command, he realizes too late. Can he not even be in Carlos’s vicinity without being such a dickhead, fuck.

“I thought you wouldn’t.” Carlos’s chest heaves, his throat forcing out words against his will. “Of all people. You wouldn’t use it against me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Oscar whispers, like the greatest hypocrite in all the earth.

Oscar’s never heard Carlos laugh like that, derisive, painfully disparaging. All those times before, when Carlos had teased him, even after a race mistake, he’s done so maybe a little mockingly, but gently all the same. Prodding at Oscar with his bared teeth, but carefully enough he never broke skin. And now he sounds like he would be happy to be wiped clean of Oscar entirely.

Oscar cringes, tries to hide by burrowing further into Carlos’s back. This must be what being flayed alive feels like.

“You wouldn’t!” Carlos says, voice raising high and thready. “After you tried to kill me. After you made me, made me run like a dog huh? Was that fun for you? You like that, huh?”

Carlos’s shoulders pull uncomfortably taut. His shaking slows, the drug of adrenaline siphoning away. The rhythm of his breath changes, stutters, then quickens. His throat releases something wounded. The arm Oscar has braced against Carlos’s chest catches stray droplets, running off Carlos’s chin.

Oscar’s never going to be able to forget the way Carlos sounds broken down. Can’t do anything. Can’t even say something like, Don’t cry, for fear of stuffing all of Carlos’s tears back into him like a botched surgery.

He holds Carlos closer. Lips on the back of Carlos’s neck like he’s allowed, like he can impart I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m so fucking stupid it will never happen again I promise. I promise.

“Breathe,” he says.

“Leave me alone,” Carlos says weakly.

Nope, no. Never. “Breathe.”

“Just, leave me alone Oscar.” Carlos struggles in Oscar’s grip, a fish caught in a trap. He doesn’t have the leverage to break free, winded as he is, with one arm tucked under his own shirt, fingers pinching his side so hard the flesh’s turned white.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Oscar says softly. “Please let go, Carlos.”

Carlos’s fingers unclench. He lets out a low, hurt whine, frustration, anger at his own helplessness, at having to listen to Oscar. Of all people. “Fuck you,” Carlos says.

By the third time Oscar repeats it, his mind’s made up. “Breathe,” he orders. “Carlos. I’m going to fix this.”

(put that guy in a situation prompts)

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #carcar #how does he fix this you ask?#well oscar ***** ****** **** *** ****** *** *** ***** ** ** **** *** **** **** *** ****** ******#thank you stevie <3

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explodingfridge · 2 days ago

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my family had, and continues to have, lots of issues, but one thing I think we managed to handle fairly well is the severe alcoholism on my mom’s side. Her dad smoked cigarettes and drank heavily for most of her childhood. When he died he’d been sober for 20 years, but we always talked about addiction as a fact of life. Substances are addictive. Sometimes you become addicted to them. It’s just a matter of brain chemistry and it doesn’t make you a bad person. No one ever thought less of him for having been an addict.

About five years ago now her mom - my grandma - went to the ER for a bladder issue and while she was there she went into withdrawals. No one knew she’d been drinking, and certainly not drinking heavily enough to have withdrawal symptoms. She spent a week in the ICU hallucinating and she could’ve died. She didn’t thankfully, but she’d basically pickled her brain and the damage was permanent. None of us ever sat there thinking “god what a loser”. Not a single one of us. All we were thinking about was if she was ok. How we could get her sober and how we could support her and make sure she was safe going forwards.

She spent several months in an inpatient facility recovering from the stress on her body from both the sudden detox and the bladder issues.

She was sober for a while, and then she relapsed. By this point she’d given my mom power of attorney and access to her bank accounts, so we could see she was buying booze. They spent nearly two years going back and forth, with my grandma on and off sober, and my mom reached a point where she said “look, i can’t force you to stop drinking. You should, for your own sake. we still love you and you call me if you need help.” Her grandkids continued to go to see her. My mom stopped by once a week or so to make sure she hadn’t keeled over or stopped eating. In the end, she worked herself into a state where she was basically living off Jim Bean, and when she called my mom for help she sounded so distressed. We spent our Christmas that year trying to get food and water into her and bundling her up in blankets and listening when she thought I was my mom, and when she thought she was back in her hometown.

Addiction is complicated. It’s hard. It’s the sort of thing that once it sinks it’s claws into you it never truly lets go. That doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you evil. It doesn’t even make you a bad person. Those who tout the devils of addiction and claim it to be a moral failing are ignorant. They’re judgmental, and they refuse to learn and understand. Even if you never get sober, even if you relapse, it doesn’t make you a terrible person. People with addictions are just people, the same as the rest of us, with their flaws and their vices and their virtues. And you should treat them like people.

it's just really fucking frustrating that we live in a world where I grew up being trained to believe that addicts are unloveable. and then I became an addict and I was still told that addicts are unloveable. and I just have to deal with the fact that there are people out there who believe that I don't deserve love, or that my partner is brave for loving me, or that my family and friends are suffering just from me existing. and that's fine that's just the way it is

but then on top of that. I have to deal with tumblr users telling me (an addict!!!) that they hate addicts in a cool new way that I should be totally sympathetic towards. see, they had a family member who was the most evil person on the planet! and that family member was an addict! so they can't help the fact that they now want all addicts to die! they can't help it! blast them all.

#addiction #tw addiction #alcohlism #fridge text posts

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daisymbin · 1 day ago

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promise me ice cream! - jeon wonwoo

warnings: slightly insecure wonwoo?

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: drunk confessions, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve 223 of yall following me but thank you 🥺

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

your best friend, wonwoo is sprawled on the bed, looking more like a puddle of drunk affection than his usual composed self. he's clinging onto you, he wedges your leg in between his own; hugging it like it was a bolster as his head rests on your lap as if it were a pillow, his arms wrapped around your leg, not wanting to let go as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his gaze is hazy, eyes blinking slowly as he stares up at you, his lips curving into a drunken smile, “you're so pretty.” he says as you chuckle while you run your hands through his hair; messaging his head a little to relieve the potential headache.

“why'd you drink so much tonight?” you asked, “its not like you, you're not usually like this.” wonwoo lets out a deep sigh at your question, “you were talking to jun all night and…i dont know, i just didn't like it. i got jealous. it's like…you’ll never pick me.” he says with a pout, eyes closing shut. “jealous? of jun?” you frown, trying to make sense of his words. if only he knew, “don't be silly, you know i talk to jun all the time but you'll always be my best friend. there's nothing to be jealous about.” you reassured. “& i’ll always pick you.”

“you're breaking my heart.” wonwoo mumbles so soft, you almost would have missed it if it weren't for a drunk wonwoo clinging onto you for dear life, heightening all your senses & leaving your heart beating so fast. “what do you mean, wonwoo?”

"you’re my favorite person," he says, his voice soft and slow, like he’s trying to convince himself of something. "i don’t know if i’ll ever be your favorite, but... you're my favorite." his hand gently strokes the inside of your thigh, sending shiver down your spine. his fingers light against your skin as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of being this close.

you smile as you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. you’re a little amused yet also, a little taken aback by the way he’s acting; he's never been like this. you gently run your fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to sleep even though you're sure he’s already half asleep. & maybe you're also just taking advantage of the situation and being a little selfish; having him like this.

"i’m just me," he continues, voice drowsy and laced with alcohol. "i’m just wonwoo, you know? just regular, plain ol' wonwoo. but you're... you're perfect. sparkly. i don’t even know why you ever looked my way years ago, let alone be friends with me.”

you laugh softly, but it’s mixed with a hint of sadness, wondering how he could ever think that about himself. "you’re not just wonwoo, you know that, right? you’re more than that."

wonwoo shakes his head, but his grip on your leg tightens. "no, no, no. i’m just me. i’m just wonwoo, and you’re... you’re so pretty and you're so kind. you're such a good person...so much better than I'll ever be. that's why you would never like someone like me."

his words sting more than they should, but you can tell he's too drunk to mean them fully, right? that's what you hoped for at least. you want to tell him how wrong he is, how much you care for him, but instead, you sit in the quiet, letting him speak his mind as he clings onto you, his drunken ramblings the only thing filling the space between you two.

after a moment, he sits up a little, his gaze suddenly lighting up with a burst of energy. "ice cream," he says, as if it’s the most important thing in the world right now. "we should go on an ice cream date. right now. let’s go."

you glance at him, blinking in surprise at the sudden contrast. it’s already past 4AM and he’s drunk, this is not the time for an ice cream run date. "wonwoo," you say softly, trying to get him to focus. "it’s really late. we’re not going for ice cream right now, okay?"

he looks up at you with wide, sad, hopeful eyes, and you can’t help but find it endearing, even if it’s a little ridiculous. "why not?" he asks, his pout deepening, and his grip on your leg tightening again as he drags himself impossibly closer to you. "i want to go on an ice cream date with you, please?”

you laugh, though it's full of affection and fondness. "wonwoo, you’re drunk & it’s really late. we’re not going anywhere. you can’t go out for ice cream right now, I don't think you can even walk straight, did you forget how I had to haul you back here?"

he pouts even harder, his lower lip trembling slightly & he almost look as if he’s about to start crying any time as he sits back and crosses his arms, looking like a grumpy child. "but i want ice cream. now. i’m hungry."

you can’t help but smile at his stubbornness. "we’ll go tomorrow, okay?" you promise. "i’ll take you out on an ice cream date tomorrow. I'll even let you pick all the flavours you want, even if its 5 of them."

wonwoo tilts his head to the side, staring at you with a suspicious frown. "tomorrow? don’t lie…i’m only asking you now because… this is a dream, you wouldnt reject me in my dream, would you?" he asks, his voice filled with doubt. "because i know you won’t really take me for ice cream tomorrow when I wake up. you don’t like me like that. you’re just humoring me."

"wonwoo, i promise, tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream," you reassure him, your voice gentle and warm as you stroke his hair again, trying to comfort him.

but wonwoo still looks disappointed and doubtful, his shoulders slump. "tomorrow will never come. this is all a dream. you’ll wake up, and i’ll be... i’ll be just me. plain wonwoo. i won’t be good enough for you. you will never pick me.”

your heart aches at the way he’s talking. he doesn’t believe that you like him, doesn’t believe in this moment, in the promise of tomorrow. "wonwoo, i’m not going anywhere," you say, taking his hand in yours. "i'll be right here when you open your eyes when the sun rises & i'll tell you all the reasons why you're more than enough. i really do like you, I love you, and tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream. i promise."

he looks down at your hand, still not fully convinced. "promise?" he asks, his voice small and fragile.

"promise," you say firmly, hands finding his as you lock your pinky around his.

wonwoo hesitates for a moment, then sighs, his expression softening. "okay...okay," he murmurs, closing his eyes as he rests his head back on your lap, your hands instinctively go back to playing with his hair, he's completely content now. "ice cream date tomorrow. i’ll wait for tomorrow...even if it doesn't happen it's okay..at least im laying on your lap now…at least you’re playing with my hair now…at least now i know what it's like to hear you say you like me too.”

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, watching him drift off to sleep in your lap. even though he’s drunk and unsure, you know he believes you somewhere deep down. & tomorrow, you’ll take him for ice cream, just like you promised. and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, he’ll realize how much you really do care about him, & how much you really do love him.

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