#hobby room will be pink and green

[beansnpeets]

Painted some walls today. Feels good to get rid of the ugly colours that the previous owners painted. Browns and beiges and greys. No more! Only happy and fun colours for me.

[withahappyrefrain]

took a lil looksie at that smutty prompt list and now i can't stop thinking about jake and a combo of "i've never done something like this before" and "this is a one time thing" 😵‍💫 like you kind of half know him as a friend of a friend and you know the kind of reputation he has but one thing leads to another at a party or like out w friends and suddenly you're hooking up in the back of his stupid jeep swearing up and down that you NEVER do this and how it's just this once and he's just like "awh honey it's cute you think this isn't gonna happen again" bc once you have him once there's simply no coming back from that

It's the stupid backwards cap.

You're so accustomed to seeing him in uniform that when he shows up in jeans, a button up and a backwards snapback, you nearly forget all the stories you've heard.

"It's a trap," Natasha mutters, pulling you away. It was for the best. You heard stories about Bagman. So it was easy to focus on the rest of the party and not the Adonis who just walked in.

At first.

You're trying, honestly. But it's so hard to focus on what Mickey is saying when Jake is right within your line of sight. The can of beer looks small in his hand. And he's got that smile the one where the corners of his green eyes crease. There's a light dusting of stubble on his face, a stark difference from the clean cut shaven look he usually sports.

Shit, is he looking at you?

You turn away, suddenly very interested in the Star Wars show Mickey was rambling about. Your friend can't tell that your nods are artificial, but Bob and Natasha sure can.

"All I'm going to say is that it's Bagman," Bob remarks before walking away, no doubt going back to his favorite corner of the room to watch it all go down.

You know it's fucking Bagman. The dickhead that always gives Bob, Mickey, and Nat something to complain about during your D&D sessions. Hell, after hearing some of the stories, you wanted to punch the man yourself.

You still did want to do that. Just not with your fists. No, you wanted to punch Jake with your lips. On his.

Fuck.

Perhaps a conversation would do the trick. Confidence dripped all over him. He was a damn good pilot, a fact your friends couldn't deny. But surely, one conversation would remind you of all the shit he's pulled, wiping away any and all physical desires you had somehow developed for the guy in the last thirty minutes.

"Hey darlin. I was just about to come over and talk to ya." The sincerity in his voice stops you dead in your tracks.

No, he could not be serious. You even told him so.

And this fucker has the audacity to smile while shaking his head, "Course I do. I've been wanting to meet ya for a while now."

This was not the sleazy, unsavory man you had heard about. They were right about him being a former frat bro. But what they didn't know was that was your exact type.

A rosy pink dusts Jake's face as he explains, "I saw you with Mickey, Bob, and Nat on Instagram. Y'all had just gone to a festival?"

"Comic con," you clarify. He's out of his element when it comes to your hobbies, but the worst part is it seems like he's trying.

"I know who you are." Was it meant to be a statement or a threat? Hell, you didn't even know.

Jake shows zero indication your blunt sentence had any effect. Instead he just smiles as he leans in, his handsome face now inches away from yours.

"I know who you are too." It's just that stupid Texan charm, it means nothing.

"Yeah?" Like a moth to a flame, you lean forward, able to catch the sandalwood of his cologne. He's so tanned, you wonder if his skin is warm, if he's just a walking ray of sunshine.

The thought of touching him, simply brushing your fingers along his arm, flashes through your mind. It's startling, you're not supposed to like Jake Seresin. At least, that's what you've been told.

Turns out, Jake Seresin is charming. He listens and asks the right question. You doubt it's genuine, from what you've heard he's quite the flirt.

He's also quite the kisser. When you two moved to Bradley's porch, you can't say. What you do know is Jake has you pressed up against a wall, his mouth perfectly slotted over yours. And it feels good. His hands explored your body, as if committing to memorize every soft curve.

"I don't do this, just so you know," you blurt out, desperate to get it out before his mouth finds yours again.

Jake's mouth forms into a smirk, "So you're saying I'm special darlin?"

No. He can't be. This is just a one time thing.

You tell him that and he continues to kiss you. You repeat it as you lead Jake to his jeep, your hands greedily exploring his body. He's so muscular and you were expecting him to be clean shaven, only to find soft hair that graced his chest and trailed down to below the waistband of his jeans.

That cursed backwards cap is somewhere on the floor of his Jeep. You're too busy situating yourself into his lap, allowing you access to his neck. The only thing you remember clearly is how he gingerly took your glasses off and placed them in the console.

Your teeth sink into his skin, pulling a strangled groan from his thin pink lips. The sound is like a spell, luring your hips to grind against his.

"I don't- I've never done something like this before," you confess, stilling your body.

"Do you wanna stop?" His voice is unexpectedly soft, his touch gentle as he pushes some hair out of your face.

You should stop. You should get out of this stupid truck, go back to the party and pretend none of this ever happened.

That's the logical thing to do, given what you know about Jake Seresin. But right now, you don't see the cocky, asshole pilot. His green eyes have softened and there's an encouraging smile on his face.

"It's your call darlin," Jake reminds you, thumb drawing circles on your hip.

"This is just a one time thing, okay?" The declaration was more for yourself than him. One hookup wouldn't hurt anyone, as long as it stayed at one.

Jake chuckles, "You're so cute, thinking this will be a one time thing."

Before you can make a remark, his hands pull your hips down to his, allowing you to feel the denim cladded erection against your clothed core.

Fuck.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

genre-savvy alhaitham, a threadfic

ok remember that textpost about a kid being born with pink hair and the parents thinking "oh no...she's a main character"

imagine this with alhaitham, he's born with grey hair (his parents have green hair, which is normal in teyvat)

& then his parents die => his tragic backstory

but his grandmother recognises the risks & helps alhaitham avoid the narrative focus:

she lets him grow at his own pace & not at the plot's convenience

alhaitham avoids the orphan trope of secretly badass/important parents

he avoids the bullying backstory (was allowed to homeschool)

but then she passes (not a surprise, given her age, but still sad nonetheless). alhaitham arranges her funeral and then enrolls in akademiya & is well prepared to live a peaceful life out of the light of the narrative

...and then kaveh finds him in the house of daena and alhaitham looks at his blond hair (not that common in sumeru) & that earnest do-gooder energy & boundless curiosity and--

oh, that's a protagonist if alhaitham ever saw one. hm

kaveh's determination to befriend alhaitham somehow works (offering to do research with a near-stranger wouldn't work on most people but it works for alhaitham. call that protagonist privilege he guesses)

being kaveh's friend is... enlightening. his grandmother never wanted alhaitham to seek out the limelight, but he can't help gaining a reputation as he spends more time with the kshahrewar's shining star student

and...he doesn't mind being known as kaveh's best & favorite friend

but being the protagonist's best friend unfortunately means witnessing the protagonist's "struggle arc"

- the long sleepless nights doing extra work for classmates

- the backlog of letters from kaveh's mother who lives abroad piling up on kaveh's desk under increasing coursework

- the nasty rumors from students about his dead father and outright bullying from the grand conservator who takes an instant dislike to kaveh's confidence

- always saying "yes" to extra curricular projects offered by professors

alhaitham sees it all. and he doesn't like it

see, the problem is kaveh never had someone like alhaitham's grandmother in his life

someone who would warn him off from standing out too much too early, who would protect him from unwanted& undue expectations from others

which is why kaveh is now near buckling under that weight

alhaitham wouldn't normally interfere, but

well, he's supposed to be the protagonist's best friend, right? surely some well-meant advice won't hurt....

(as writers would later put it: famous last words)

anyways, years pass.

kaveh goes off and makes a name for himself, just as alhaitham always knew he would. protagonist or not, kaveh was the kind of rare intellectual with the ambition and dedication to achieve any goal he set his mind to

alhaitham quietly works his way into a good stable job that more than pays his bills while giving him free time to pursue his hobbies. perfect for a side character like him who has no interest in anything more

(once he thought of upgrading from side character...but times change)

he gets appointed scribe. he attends a meeting between a few sages. and he hears information that would up-end sumeru society as he knows it

...aka, this is the start of a major plot arc. and alhaitham's one of the few who knows that something's even happening at all

alhaitham doesn't want to get involved. why should he? the sages' plan is sacrilege, sure, but alhaitham feels no loyalty to a distant god

his own quiet life would be the same regardless of azar's plotting

and anyways, shouldn't the protagonist be the one called to action?

where's kaveh right now? oh, off to the desert for work, according to the brief note he left in the living room along with that month's rent

....a written note because kaveh is very maturely /avoiding/ alhaitham right now instead of perhaps undergoing character development 🙄

ok but thinking about it....

does alhaitham want to wait for kaveh to come back from his desert job and rush straight into the mess that the sages are making

because kaveh may be the protagonist, sure, but not all protagonists make it to the end of the story....

alhaitham might have to temporarily shed his chosen role of "side character"...... this isn't ideal but somehow the idea of kaveh getting into a shouting match with the sages over their anti-arts oppression and their limited worldviews is even less appealing....

which is to say alhaitham is very happy to meet the traveller (and their strange little flying companion paimon)

and also meet the general mahamatra cyno

and the flame mane dehya

(ok to say that alhaitham is "happy" to meet them is closer to gross overstatement than truth but regardless, pleased.

after all, these are three very viable protagonists to take the stage away even if kaveh returns early)

and that's it folks, im just laughing at the idea of alhaitham not wanting to be the protagonist but also preferring for kaveh to sit back down, stop putting himself in danger for once in his life--

and hello cyno/dehya/traveller, please do something suitably heroic and seize the protagonist role safely away

and then because alhaitham is acting "out of character" the narrative rewards him by pushing HIM into the protagonist role (masterminding the plan to free nahida while distracting azar and foiling the sages' plans for hijacking jnagarbha day)

which is to say,

its all well and good to be trope savvy and choose to live within whatever bounds you prefer

but when you're actually living inside the world in which your story unfolds, it's really hard to tell from the inside who the main character is

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens with a reader who loves plants

All of these are a pre-established relationship but other than that it's completely open to interpretation

Edward:

An enabler

The first time he visited your room (that you knew of or not) he immediately saw all of your plants

The perfect easy gift

Most men give flowers, this man gives succulents

If he hears in your thoughts that one of your plants isn't doing so well or if there's one that you really want but can't afford it/ don't have space, suddenly you have a new plant

His room becomes your personal greenhouse

Not like he uses it for much else anyway

When you move in, he asks Carlisle if he can build you a greenhouse

Spares no expense

If he had his way your greenhouse would be bigger than the actual house

He will read so many books on proper care for plants and follow your instructions to a T

Man said its ficUS

Alice:

She loves seeing you happy

And if little cacti and bright flowers make you happy then she is all over them

She accidentally got a couple visions of you going to the same store and buying more plants before she really knew you

She saw it enough that she already knew that you loved them before really getting to know you

I feel like she used to have some plants but doesn't really anymore

Will buy a whole Home Depot's worth tho

Enabler yet again

When you move in she obviously helps you bring all your plants too

As a welcome present she buys really pretty matching pots for all of them

When she buys you new ones she also buys another one of those pots

Side note but I feel like her favorite plant is probably the lily of the valley

Jasper:

Is a little shocked when he finds out

He's never met someone with so much of one type of thing

Like yeah Edward has a lot of CDs

And Alice has a lot of clothes

But this is excessive

He can't even see the walls of your room

Wonders briefly if you're some type of creature that needs all of the extra oxygen that plants can cycle in order to live

He doesn't say anything though

He likes you, you like plants, so he will like the plants too

Is a bit skeptical when you move in and want to take all your plants with you

He already has to share the space with Alice and her huge closet and now there will be literally over a hundred plants?

There simply is not room

He'll try very gently to suggest that maybe you get rid of a few

That goes about as well as expected

So he just lives like this now

He isn't actually upset though

He's happy that you're happy

Rosalie:

Sorry not sorry she's an enabler

She doesn't need to go to the grocery store

Yet somehow once a week there is always a new plant in your collection

When you ask her she says she saw it while she was grocery shopping and thought you would like it

I have a feeling she cannot take care of plants though

You gave her a succulent once and it died

Literally a week later it was dead

She doesn't know what happened

You don't know what happened

All you know is that she is not allowed to touch your plants

She thinks they are gorgeous though

Will help you build a garden or a greenhouse once you move in

She likes to go out there and chill when you're not around

She loves the big leafy ones

And any with hanging vines

Emmett:

He's like the dad with the dog meme

Except with plants

He literally has never given them a second thought

Until you of course

Now he's over here like "yes I do like the pink pot better than the blue one for your money tree"

In all seriousness I feel like he'd have a HUGE green thumb

When you move in he's instantly offering to make a garden for you

Well, he says it's for you anyway

He's the one out there 90% of the time digging holes and planting bushes

He has a damn forest out there now

And I guess a couple of your plants too

Jk jk

He really took to it though

If you thought you were obsessed

He's even worse

Carlisle:

He thinks it's nice :)

Sort of in the "oh that's nice that they have an interest" sort of way

He's a firm believer that hobbies keep people sane and rounded individuals

And what's more grounding than the literal Earth and things that grow out of it

He'll never admit it is a lot though

Esme is the one who likes to decorate a lot

His office is filled with more utilitarian things, not so much decoration

Doesn't mean he doesn't like it, just that it's not what he does

He will say though, when you move in and he starts to notice some plants sitting on some of his shelves, he likes the color it brings to the room

Is another one who will happily buy you whatever plants you want

He won't take care of them though

Not because he doesn't want to or doesn't care, but he knows this is your thing

Esme:

She is a total plant girly

She does most of the interior design wherever the Cullens go, of course she takes care of the plants too

There are a couple plants in the house in the movies

I think those are hers <3

Obviously tho she does not have as many as you

But she will make it work

Y'all instantly bonded over your shared love

Another one who will buy you whatever plants you want

She can't help it when she's the one who wants them too

She would LOVE a garden

I think she would find growing vegetables and herbs to be really fulfilling

Even though she has no need for them

Maybe she'd sell them or give them away or smthn idk

But I also think she would love the quality time that working on a garden together would be

so romantic

Vampire! Bella:

Sort of indifferent idk

She thinks it's a bit odd but she has definitely seen weirder things

She does come from a family of pretty eccentric people

Overall though I don't think she would mind

She might use them as a way to get closer to you or as just another means of hanging out

If she notices it's gotten too quiet and she wants to hear you talk more, she might ask about a random plant just to get you talking again

Or she would suggest going to a plant store to hangout

I think she would be helpful though

Water, sunlight, make sure they don't die

She can do that much at least

She doesn't understand the appeal but she doesn't make fun of you or belittle you for it at all

Everybody has their interests

She doesn't mind

[strawberrystepmom]

happy gojo fluff friday i guess. gojo x f!reader. established relationship, self indulgent crafting fluff, reader is teaches the second years. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.4k, reading time 5 mins 17 seconds

“I used to make these all the time, remember?”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you in your living room, you hold up a bundle of braided twine bracelets, a rainbow of colors with assorted charms attached to them. Little plastic seashells on the blue one, flowers dotting the green one.

Satoru remembers, he still has the one you made him in your first year. It feels like a lifetime ago that six teenagers had vaguely matching mementos they wore showing their unity as a group, yourself and your fellow first years Nanami and Haibara and of course himself and his friends. 

“Blue seems cliche,” you opined at the time with a raised brow, a pink cheeked seventeen year old Gojo staring back at you anxiously. His crush had bloomed by then although you pretended to be oblivious to it. “How about pink instead?”

He has never been able to tell you no so he nodded, keeping his mouth screwed shut while you worked. Pink he received, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to wear it back then. You attached a little smiley face charm right in the middle, affixing it around his wrist. He wore it every day until it began to unravel, safely kept in a small lockbox in the back of his closet.

The same box that contains most of the memories you’ve given him, the photos, the cards, the trinkets, and the ones the two of you have yet to make including that pesky engagement ring he can never seem to figure out the right time to give you.

“I might take it to school with me tomorrow just to see what the kids think.”

Two big hands make their way to your bent thighs and you smile, still digging through the box in your lap. Beads, closures, all the stuff you used to pride yourself on keeping tidy and neat. You glance up at him, that same smile on your face.

“Let me make you a new one since I have all this stuff out.”

You dig through the box for a minute more, squinting and making a show of exaggeratedly humming. Leaning in toward him, you hold colored embroidery floss up to his face to compare it to the shades of his eyes, the unforgettable feature that they are. One bundle of floss is too green, the other is too yellow. 

“What do you think the kids will say?” He asks, watching each of your movements raptly. Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate, an adorable habit you’ve maintained in all of the years he’s known you, and you sit back on your haunches for a moment, hands on your thighs. 

Yet another adorable habit.  

He reaches to grab your arm, gently rubbing his thumb along the inside of it. You smile at the touch and ponder what your students will truly think if you bring this to them. It’s a bit of a dated hobby compared to the luxury of choice teenagers have now and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.

“Well, Maki will probably say you’re rubbing off on me since I don’t bother to teach anymore and call it stupid to my face.” Satoru chuckles, watching through his lashes while you spring back into action, reaching behind you to grab a few more bundles of blue. “Inumaki will probably spell something inappropriate in English if I bring the letter beads. Panda will ask me to make each of them a matching bracelet because he’s sweet and will request that I make one for Yuuta to have when he gets back, too.”

Looking at the latest bounty recovered from the little tackle box that stores the trinkets required for this, you gasp. Cerulean with a deep blue sparkle woven through the strands. 

I’ll save this for something special some day, you told yourself more than a decade ago, spending your student stipend in some fancy embroidery shop in Nippori. Yen exchanged for fancy thread, dotted with glitter or metallic coating. You had no idea. Maybe you even bought it back then hoping a day where you’d be able to compare it to Satoru’s eyes would arrive, subconsciously laying the tracks for your own future.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The grin on your face is mirrored by your love who reaches around your body to grab from the twine selection himself. A handful of colors that match your eyes sit across his large palm and he glances down at the collection, mimicking your previous attempts to find something that screamed “him”.

“What are you doing?” The question is a half joke but you let him hum to himself, raising one bundle and then another to compare them. “Well, I didn’t make you one back then because I thought I was too cool,” he blinks at you, making you giggle. “I was right, of course, but there’s no time like the present, right?”

Nodding your agreement, you remove the paper from around the twine and shake it out. You’ll need some coordinating colors so you dig back through the bundles in front of you, sticking them against his face again. 

“I still have the one you made me, by the way.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and use your index finger to poke around in the bead compartment, searching for the perfect one for your newest creation.

“Don’t lie, I can always tell.” Satoru grabs your hand delicately although your fingers are still holding various crafting supplies and raises it to his lips, gently kissing your wrist. You are very attentive to the little things about him and likely noticed when he finally stopped wearing it, several years after it was first made. “I’m not lying. I had to stop wearing it because it was unweaving and I didn’t want to lose it forever.”

You feel guilty for the accusation and lean in toward him, kissing the tip of his nose, claiming your hand back from his grasp to begin braiding twine together into a pattern.

“I can always re-make it if you’d rather have a pink one,” you offer, braiding together various shades of blue in your lap without looking down. “I can wear this one.”

Smiling softly, he looks at you, then the bundle of your eye colored twine in his own hand.

“You wear the blue one and I’ll make one that matches you to wear myself, how about that?”

Nodding, you let the conversation fall quiet while he unbundles his own selections, fingers deftly separating and joining three strands, just the way you tried to teach him years ago when you assumed he didn’t care. He has always paid far more attention to you than you’ve realized and you’ve given him a lot to study over the last ten or so years.

“I think you should leave this at home,” he admits. It’s selfish but he doesn’t want to see you share this precious memory with your students who may not even appreciate it. He wants to sit cross legged on the living floor with you, making little friendship bracelets that will eventually unravel or fade or snap, for the rest of his life. He wants to make them for your children someday, matching bracelets with mom and dad. He wants to keep this, to keep you, all to himself.

“Okay. It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t need to give them one more thing to give me shit about.”

Satoru leans toward you and kisses your forehead right as you’re finishing the blue bracelet. He looks down, tying and knotting it around your wrist, remembering when you did the same for him so long ago. 

“Looks good.” His words catch your eye and you smile up at him, looking between his eyes and the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It is an uncanny match and you’re proud of your own eye for color though your pride is stopped in its tracks when he sticks out his wrist, bracelet pinched between two of his fingers and dangling from his hand. “Would you mind?”

You do as he did for you, as you’ve done for him before, with softness in your eyes it would be impossible to hide. 

“Not bad,” you compliment and he shrugs with a chuckle. “Obviously. I even think mine is the better of the two.”

Letting your hand rest in his lap, next to his, the hastily made bracelets sit one next to the other on each of your bodies. His eyes follow yours and he weaves your fingers together, thumb gently rubbing the thickest part of your palm.

It’ll always be the two of you, a perfectly matched set, no matter what.

[nightlyrequiem]

Hello dere :3

small request b4 they close ‼️‼️ could we have some Valeria x designer reader? I think it would be tooth-rottingly sweet for Valeria to reluctantly try on everything her girlfriend makes -- from ballgowns to suits.

And designer reader fucking adores her, and constantly makes her fancy clothes, with colours perfectly, primmly picked out to match Valerias skintone, eyecolour, manicure, tattoos, and all.

Hello hello hello :3 Valeria would definitely try on whatever thing Reader has made at her request. She's this strong, brute of a woman but with you? Oh, she's just so soft. It helps that your designs are so well done too.

Also, much apologies for the wait 🫂

Designer!Reader x Valeria

Out of the two of you, you're definitely the more fashionable one. You can take one look at someone and already know what colour or style would suit them best. Valeria doesn't care all that much about matching patterns and colours and what goes best with her undertone. You do though. Valeria is your favourite person in the world and such a good model too.

You've made a few designs inspired by her. Pieces with little scorpion inspired details. Snake details. Any animal you can vaguely associate with her. You make Valeria try on every single one.

You like to make pieces based off of animals in general. Foxes, cats, moths, peacocks, swans. Those are Valeria's favourite to model for you. The peacock one in particular. There's something so special about seeing your eyes light up as you see your ideas in the flesh. Or rather, on flesh.

She acts like she doesn't like doing it, but secretly she enjoys how much you hype her up. She struts down the hallway of your shared home in elegant gowns and dresses and suits that she'd otherwise never wear. A part of her wishes she had more time or the safety to dress up but in her line of work she has to stay lowkey. The less attention the better.

I've heard bigger chested girls have a harder time finding dresses and tops that fit them properly. (I wouldn't know because I'm not even pushing a B cup. 👎) Now, it's no secret that Valeria's chest is on the bigger side. She's found quite a few tops and dresses that she loved in her size, only issue was, they didn't fit her chest right. So, you being her loving girlfriend with the ability to sew, tailors her clothes.

You tailor her pants too. Adding on extra pockets for her and secret sheathes for her weapons.

Back to designing. In your expert opinion, Valeria suits dark red and green the best. Most of the pieces you've made for her specifically heavily features those colours. Some are pink though, to pay respect to her favourite colour.

Valeria has let you dedicate an entire room to your hobby. Mannequins, shelves full of all kinds of fabrics, needles and pins, a sewing machine, an iron and ironing board. Valeria partially regrets that decision for the sheer amount of time you spend in it. Although it's great when she's too busy to be with you.

Valeria has one suit that you made her that she wears for every formal occasion. Never during a cartel meeting, because she simply doesn't respect anyone enough to dress up, but for dates or events. Dark red and tailored to perfection, severe lines to match her sharp attitude. You wish she'd wear some of the other things you've made but you can't bring yourself to complain when she looks that good. It's like she was born to wear that suit.

[lionwitch]

Tim Drake Edits Reality

Hear me out. Tim Drake has always loved photography, that's wildly accepted and known. But what if he has powers too?

What if whatever Tim edits into his pictures becomes the truth?

The first time it happened, Tim was just starting his photography hobby. His parents bought him a camera and he was so exited! He took a picture of his mom's Rosebush, a single rose in the entire bush, half Withered.

Tim found the picture beautiful, and he started messing with photoshop, editing the withered flower back to the bright red it used to be. He decided it looked lonely and sad, the bush dry and the rose edited to be lively but alone in the middle. So he edited the dry areas of the bush back to the lively green and more roses in it. The picture looked very different from the original, but it was beautiful. Satisfied, he saved the end result.

That afternoon, when he walked through the garden, the very same dry rosebush he photographed looked just like his edited picture: lively, with rich colors and plenty of roses.

It made no sense, but he ignored it.

He kept taking pictures and editing them, though the changes were small, like the lighting and all that. Sometimes he made small changes, and he definitely noticed them and thought it was weird, but didn't quite connect the dots. He was kind of in denial. He couldn't be a meta or anything! Right?

And then his parents left for a few months and he was lonely, but he didn't want to admit it. And at school everyone was talking about their pets, and he messed up and lied. "I just adopted a Border Collie puppy!" he lied, thinking that would be it, people would forget, he would get out of the awkward situation (why did everyone have pets?) and nothing would happen. Well turns out, everyone wanted to see his puppy.

So Tim came home and prepared his camera, in his trusted tripod to look like it had been taken by someone else, and took pictures of himself, a whole photoshoot, with his arms stretched like carrying a dog, and then sitting like he was playing with it.

He searched for a perfect Border Collie puppy, one who had a whole photoshoot just for that one, so he could be sure the pictures were coherent and no one would question them. He carefully edited them and memorized every feature of his supposed dog in case anyone asked, to keep his story straight. Once satisfied, he sent them to those who asked for pictures, and received plenty of "cute dog!" compliments. It had taken him all day, so he went to bed almost immediately after, already past midnight.

He woke up to the very same blue eyed fluffy Border Collier puppy he edited into his pictures, licking his face, the same blue harness and leash hung on his door, and even the bed and bowls he put in the background were on the corner of his room now.

He freaked out, of course, but the small pup didn't seem all that worried. And apparently he now had a puppy? Well, he's always wanted one. He named her Frankie, because her multiple colors and patterns clashed like Frankenstein's monster, like she had been made for from mismatched parts.

He loved Frankie. She was so smart! And Frankie was quite loyal and enamored by him, too. He was her whole world, and she was his heart, his companion and confidant, his best friend and ally in his too-big house.

He did decide to experiment though. He needed more research.

When a boy at school picked on him, he edited his picture bald, and that same day his father shaved his hair. He tried again with another boy who picked on Jason (Jason doesn't know Tim exists yet, but Tim keeps an eye out for him), editing his hair bright barbie pink, and this time he added a date to the corner, writing the date of a week ago, two days before the pictures for his football team were taken.

When Tim saw the football team's pictures displayed at school, the boy had pink hair in them, that he didn't yesterday. He asked around, if the pictures looked different to anyone else.

"yeah, I don't know what persuaded him to dye his hair pink before picture day and the tournament."

"I asked him two days ago, he said he lost a bet."

Two days ago. Tim's mind was reeling. He asked the boy himself when he dyed his hair, and he replied with the date Tim edited on the corner of the picture.

Did Tim just... Edit reality?

He later uses this power to his advantage on patrol, and before that while watching the Bats.

Jason is surrounded? He takes a picture and edits a few goons out of it quickly. They aren't there when he looks up.

Shit Joker escaped? He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now. He edits tonight's date on a picture of Joker sitting peacefully in his cell and a few more guards for good measure.

His family doesn't understand why he takes a small discreet camera on patrol in his utility belt

[boba-beom]

hear me out

virgin hyuka who’s a little too excited to eat pussy for the first time and ends up cumming in his own pants

hold AWN j, you're onto something 😵‍💫

virgin!boyfriend sub!hyuka x fem!reader, reader babying kai, kai cums in his pants :p

imagine your cute virgin!boyfriend hyuka, and you invite him over after reassuring him that you have the house to yourself for the weekend.

he's a little nervous, and you can tell because you caught him fiddling with the hem of his baggy tshirt. so you replace the tshirt in his hand with your own hand, rubbing your thumb against his skin to soothe his mind.

"kai, baby? wanna see my room?" you coo as you look up at him, his cheeks flushed with a light rose pink colour.

"y-yeah, I haven't seen the rest of your room yet." he brings up the fact that you guys have been on video call so many times but he's only seen one side of your room — the one wall where your bed is. that's from when you two were sexting and masturbating through call, plenty of times.

you nod your head and give him a gentle smile, leading him up the staircase of your house while your hand is still in his, trailing after you.

you open the door to your room and you watch your cute boyfriend towering over you, breaths gentle and steady as he walks in slowly to scan each section of your room.

"get comfy, sweetcheeks." you nod your head in the direction of your bed, closing the door and walking over to him.

you have an idea in your head that could excite kai, but you wanted him to ease into the new setting. finding a comfortable spot on your bed, you lean back against your bed frame, legs slightly parted with the flimsy material of your skirt falling in the space between your thighs.

kai is still eyeing your room, how it's so pretty and full of your interests and hobbies. his eyes land on the plushies at the end of your bed, then at your ankles just centimetres away from the plushies. his eyes continue scanning up your legs, spread apart and his cheeks start burning up at the way you look at him with lust-filled eyes.

"wanna try something?" you ask him, stretching out your hand to cup his cheek and he nods in your hold. "wanna make me feel good, baby?"

"always wanna make you feel good." he croaked, chest heaving at the thought. his virgin dick throbs in his the confinements of his pants and his head starts to go hazy from the thought.

"let's put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, hm?"

the bed shifts from the way kai rushes to lie on his front and rests his cheek against your inner thigh while he looks up at you. the view was so pretty for you. your cute virgin boyfriend about to eat you out for the first time, all while him being in your house for the first time.

you give kai a gentle nod, encouraging him to go ahead with it. and he does. his large, but slender fingers lifting your skirt to see your core glistening all for him.

no panties. is all he could think about and it already has him rubbing his hard on against your mattress.

kai wastes no time and presses a kiss or two on your inner thighs before diving into your drenched cunt, flicking his tongue at your clit and already has you whining lightly.

"so– mph, pretty." he mumbles against your slick clit, then sucking harshly at your bundle of nerves.

"ah– that's my good boy, yes baby." you moan above him, propped on your elbows so you can see the way his eyes are shut as he eats you out and his hips... stuttering?

you feel kai's groans vibrating against your clit, the sensation sending you chills and feeling your clit pulse against his tongue. lacing your fingers through his blonde locks, you tug on them slightly, getting him to kneel up with ragged breaths.

you thank your sweet boyfriend for wearing khaki green cargos, attracting your eyes to the sticky dark spot spreading across the material of his crotch. but still being able to see his bulge pressing against the material had your lips twitching upwards.

"oh, my sweet baby," you coo, "got too excited and came in your pants and you haven't even fucked me yet. still got enough to fuck me, baby?"

kai lets an airy moan out from the filth slipping out your mouth, feeling his dick jump in his pants. he was ashamed, but in all honesty, he didn't mind it as much. you were his girl anyway, and he has a newfound liking for you belittling him.

"am I allowed to cum inside you?" he whimpers, desperate for you to give him permission to do so.

despite it about to be his first time fucking you, you're far from being a virgin but you knew your cutie of a boyfriend wouldn't have the ability to pull out. he didn't even have the ability to hold it while eating you out for a minute.

"because you asked so nicely, of course you can cum inside me baby."

you pull him towards you, a hand behind his neck and your lips connecting, molding together in a sweet kiss, able to taste the remnants of your slick from his tongue. as you pull away, you look him in the eyes and whisper.

"fill me up with your big load."

[ncoincidences]

Reasons why Blumbridge slaps -

Blumbridge refers to the ship Regulus Black/Dolores Umbridge.

There's an idea floating around that Dolores Umbridge would have attended Hogwarts the same time as Regulus Black, and I've seen a couple of posts on it, many by @plecotusauritus and today as I was soaking some sunshine, I thought to myself: why not, actually. And here you go, a mini essay on why Umbridge and Black were secretly lovers, or could-have-beens, or perhaps Umbridge is actually harboring an assumed-dead Black scion during OoTP.

All in good fun :-) Feel free to add your own reasons!

A. They're passionate about their interests and hobbies. Pair this up with good decor taste, and you've got Regulus’s room with clippings of Voldemort, his path to a better Wizarding World, and a beautifully painted Black Family crest, and green interiors. Why won't you pair that up with Dolores' setup of her offices - both at Hogwarts and at the Ministry - where she has the prominent theme of pink, and florals and of course, her special interest: cats and teapots?

Which brings me to my next point:

B. They have clear ideas of what they want to look like. I'm talking the colour schemes they've figured out for themselves.

Pink for Dolores, and not just any pink, it's the in-your-face pink, to portray the image of a saccharine, feminine witch, a purposefully deceptive image once you hear her vocalise her decidedly unsweet agenda.

Now, Regulus has a lot less screen time so we cannot be clearly sure if his passion for green and silver runs as strong so as to appear prominently in his daily attire, but from the glimpse of his room, and the fact that he's, well, a Slytherin, you bet he flashed his House colours as much as he could. Perhaps to rub it in the face that he was a true Black, honoring their traditions and respecting his forefathers.... unlike a certain brother of his.

C. Vocal about their agenda. Remus cannot get a job because of her draft of the Werewolf Legislation. Her reign at Hogwarts seeks to let people know that following Umbridge's rules are the only way to live. Regulus definitely lets his superiority over muggleborns in school known, and considering what Kreacher says of him in Deathly Hallows, his becoming a Death Eater is to seek out glory and power over those inferior.

D. Okay, the most interesting part, CANON will support me on this ship. Hear me out. Umbridge wears the Slytherin locket Regulus died for! It's practically fate the way it wound into HER hands, all the way from Grimmauld Place. The tragedy??? Plus in a world where Regulus didn't die and the locket wasn't a horcrux, you bet that he would give it as a courting gift.

E. Of course Umbridge denies that Voldemort is back!! (In An AU where Regulus is alive) She doesn't want her boy to be in trouble!!!!

F. Dolores' bloodthirsty approach (literally) and abuse of her authority contrasts against Regulus’s search for autonomy after Voldemort violates the rules of magic by creating a horcrux, and his failure to find authority over Muggles. So, Dolores being successful in pushing out the Muggleborn Registration act makes her all the more attractive to Regulus.

And, in a world where Voldemort didn't exist, if Regulus took a career in the Ministry, a workplace romance with an ambitious and cunning woman sounds like an easy setup for a good story.

There can also be a parallel drawn between the two on how they are less attractive than other characters, Umbridge described as a "toad" and Regulus as "rather less handsome than Sirius"...

In conclusion, to me, it seems like the strong dominance of Umbridge's character will balance the quiet resilience of Black's. And that maybe, amongst the felines covering Umbridge's decorative plates, one of them is the feline Animagus form of Regulus Black.

[bones4thecats]

This is just another request but can I please ask for Loki Thor and Poseidon with kianna komori

But in this scenario she ends up dying but ends up being resurrected as an angel but she still remembers them

Kianna: what made you think I would forget you?

Fun fact in an alternate scenario she ends up dying but father Demaryius( my other OC)

Ends up bringing her back to life as an angel

Their S/O Gets Reincarnated As An Angel

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Loki, Thor, and Poseidon Name: Their S/O Gets Reincarnated As An Angel Requester: @nunezs-stuff

A/N: I read about an angel’s wing color, so to sum up the Reader’s different ones; Pink - Chamuel (Angel of peaceful relationships), Purple - Zadkiel (Angel of mercy), and Green - Raphael (Angel of healing)

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🐍 Loki hailed himself as a God who did not enjoy humans being around at all. Whether it be male, female, even a child, if they were human, Loki did not like being around them, for what reason? I have no clue

🐍 Probably just Odin rubbing off on him

🐍 But, when Thor came home one day with a duo of supposed humans, Loki gained interest in the shorter one, that shorter one being you!

🐍 He had begun to hang around you all of the time. From annoying you as you worked on stuff to just laying out small pranks on you whenever he wanted. He basically was hanging off of you like you were the bamboo to his koala

🐍 Once you both started your relationship, Loki had gained quite a bit more of an interest in you. So like, what your hobbies were, what your previous life on Earth was, etc.

🐍 Because of how much time the God of Mischief began to spend with you, he started to become very clingy and attached to you

🐍 So, it broke his heart into smithereens when it was announced that the traitor of the Greek Pantheon and the third-born of the four Olympian Brothers, Adamas, had attempted to ally the Goddess you were visiting; Aphrodite, in his endeavor

🐍 And, due to her attempting to pry more information of his reasoning for this battle out of him, he had thrown a spear in a random direction, and unfortunately, you were in that direction. Once the blade had pierced through your body, you had died, causing Aphrodite to attack Adamas herself in a fit of rage

🐍 Loki had an old scarf that you gave him on your first date in the winter, and he never let go of the long fabric ever since that fateful day

🐍 As he walked around the old garden that the Norse Pantheon had in their domain, he had gotten the message from Huginn and Mininn that there was an angel coming in for a meeting with Odin and the main Gods of the Pantheon, meaning Loki had to be there

🐍 Despite his sour mood, Loki gripped the green and purple fabric closely as he bee-lined for his uncle’s estate. And, once he met the room and walked inside, he had seen his cousin, Thor, patting the head of the supposed angel as Odin smiled, he was genuinely smiling!

🐍 Loki stood there as the angel turned around, their large pink wings flowing behind them as their tiny white halo glowed in the sunlight, and once their eyes met his, Loki dropped the scarf and ran towards them, wrapping his arms around their form, encasing them in a tear-jerking hug

" Holy shit… " " Hello Loki. "

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🌩️ Thor was beyond depressed, he didn’t even train for weeks after hearing the news of your passing

🌩️ You and him were very close. He had met you as he took a small stroll around the human realm, since he just needed some space from his cousin, Loki’s, antics

🌩️ He had been sitting beside a small pond in the middle of the woods as he heard a voice ask him if he was alright, making him turn around and nearly pull out his hammer to attack

🌩️ Once his eyes met yours, his heart skipped a beat; you had the most beautiful eyes, eyes that could, in his perspective, compare to those of the Deities of Beauty or Purity

🌩️ Thor began to travel down to the same pond to meet you, and eventually during your second month of knowing one another, he asked if he could court you, which led to dating, then marriage, and then you and him starting your real lives together

🌩️ Nothing was going to stop him from having a happy life with you, but, unfortunately, life had another idea for him

🌩️ The God of Thunder had heard the news from a distraught Loki, who had been a witness to your demise. He claimed that a minor God from the Pantheon had gotten angry with the fact that you, a human, was married to Thor, so, in the fit of rage, they had wrapped you in vines and squashed you to death as their poison flowed through your system, much to Loki’s horror who found your body just minutes later

🌩️ Thor had ordered for the guilty to be brought before him, and once they were, he hadn’t given them a fast death, he let them suffer at the hands of multiple Gods, Odin, Loki, Poseidon, Hades (whom the previous two you had grown close to), and him of course

🌩️ While many tried to woo him in the same way that you had, nobody had come close in his eyes at your place. You were his one and only spouse, nobody could ever come close to you

🌩️ Now, it was the marking of the day of your anniversary of your first meeting, and every year, Thor would go down to the forest to the pond that he had his fellow Deities keep in tip-top shape, and this year was pretty much the same

🌩️ But, seeing someone sit there, nonetheless an angel sitting there with their purple wings holding out and their bright halo holding above their head, its glow getting brighter as the God of Thunder neared you

🌩️ And, despite the stoicness staying strong on his face, his eyes lit up in joy

" It is lovely seeing you here again, Y/N. " " You as well, my dearest. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

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🔱 Much like Loki, Poseidon prided himself on his superiority against both humans and Deities alike

🔱 Poseidon loved to watch others tremble in fear at his mere presence, it showed how perfect he was compared to those ‘disfigured’ beings that laid underneath his feet dipped in scum

🔱 But, when his oldest brother Hades had brought a human soul to a meeting with the claim that they had a soul purpose of helping them out with their duties, he gained interest in you, that poor soul

🔱 Unlike Adamas and Zeus, he did not attempt to either seduce you to do things with him against marriage or threaten you into doing things for you, Poseidon just asked you and you did it. Due to these actions, you gained a mutual ‘respect’ for one another

🔱 This fake respect eventually developed into true respect, then a shared romantic interest before becoming a real connection of two souls wrapping around one another

🔱 Once he asked you to become his for the rest of your shared lives, he began to really show himself to you, no strings attached. Well, he did make sure you didn’t tell anyone how soft he was with you, but you get the point

🔱 Poseidon was shocked to watch Proteus run inside, slamming the doors open of his office where he and Hades sat down discussing matters. The first thing the two brothers noticed was the major amount of bloods on his hands, causing his heart to stop momentarily

🔱 Hades looked at his brother and nodded, which sent the God of the Seas running after the God of Rivers who was leading the way towards the edge of the sea’s boundary, at the land where the Greek’s led their lands to another Pantheon

🔱 The two brothers stopped once the bloody sight of one of your oldest friends, Apollo, holding you as blood covered his hands, sending waves of thoughts through your lover’s mind, the main one being; what in the name of Valhalla happened to you?

🔱 That sight was one that Poseidon never forgot, every time he saw blood, he would think of your form in Apollo’s arms on the ground

🔱 Ever since that day, Poseidon never left his castle unless it was necessary, preferring to spend his time looking at papers he needed done or look at old photographs you had wrapped up in a book. These photos had you, him, friends, family members, and allies during meetings and whatnot

🔱 A few years later, Zeus had requested Poseidon to attend a meeting with him and some of the other Gods, and, due to it being mandatory in Hades’ words, he had headed towards his younger brother’s home

🔱 Gripping his trident, Poseidon opened the doors and looked inside to find an angel sitting on his seat’s arm, much to his annoyance, since angels were ranked below the Gods

" Holy being, step aside. " " I’m surprised you're being so cold to someone you once cared for, Poseidon. "

🔱 His ocean-colored eyes widened once he saw the angel unwrap their green wings from their body, allowing their water-looking halo to drip down into small droplets of rain as Poseidon lightly sank

" Y/N? " " Hello, my love. "

[preydefiler]

inviting friends over for game night, when strange noises start coming from the door at the end of the hallway, the only one with a lock on it. At first it's nothing too strange, just some light tinkling sounds like wind chimes. but as the night goes on, the sounds get stranger.

at one point, a friend remarks on a sound that is akin to marbles being slowly poured into a glass bowl. another weird moment, when a friend asks if anyone else could hear the tinny sound of a pull-back windup car. Eventually they all ask what is in the room when they can hear glass shattering intermixed with a high pitched mosquito-like buzzing.

Inside the room are about a dozen different stations set up, about half of which are in active use, and set into what must have at one point been a closet with the door removed was a large glass enclosure that went from about hip height to right about the ceiling. Once inside, the noises pick up with a fervor. Lots of tinkling and bells and singsong noises in a language nobody understands, and it all makes sense now: fairies.

There are around 15 fairies in the enclosure, all glowing slightly different shades. Some were blues, a few were pinks and oranges, two yellows, two greens, and one purple one. They seem to have a comfortable enclosure, with a large upright log they buried into and made a hide out of. Branches, vines, soft grasses and mossy rocks and a bubbling pond in the center.

There is no horror or recoil from the humans. They understand this. It's a strange hobby, for sure, but not unheard of. This is not the torturous traphouse of terror for them; that is reserved for the fairies. A few friends begin to inspect the stations set up around the room, and a couple of them make a face at one station or another, but to them it is deeply fascinating. They understand the obsession.

One station has a large pickling jar set up with three slightly bloated fairies inside. Every now and then, one of them twitches. A friend asks if they're dead, and it's explained to them, no, these aren't dead. They're technically alive because the only thing that actually kills a fairy is iron. Yeah sure if their body is destroyed in other ways, they feel and experience it til their physical form can't hold their fae soul anymore. But fae don't die unless you kill them with iron. Otherwise they wake up some time later in the fairy realm.

One station is set up, it is explained, as essentially a milking station. A plug in vibrator has been set up with a fairy strapped down with zip ties to the top of it. It's angled slightly, and it's revealed to be the source of the shattering glass sound. This pitiful thing has been going nonstop for, checks watch, 36 hours almost. A vial of milky honey-golden liquid sits at the bottom of this station, collecting all of the delectable fairy juices produced.

Another friend, the pothead of the group, notices a smell and investigates the station that's currently covered with a towel. Immediately the smell of marijuana fills the room, as does some modicum of smoke. This station is a new experiment, it's explained, essentially taking the concept of a cold smoked meat and using that method to try to make an edible. Fairies, you see, are naturally absorbent, so their nature can be affected by things they are surrounded by in nature. As peeks inside are taken, under the towel reveals to be a similar but much smaller enclosure to the one in the closet, wherein three fairies, all glowing a forest green with purple stains, sat around on a large padded mushroom and idle sounds of wood chimes could be heard.

An offer is made of a fairy tasting, and many of them accept. Given free choice of your prepared fairies, they try a smoked fairy, a piece of fairy jerky, and two pickled fairies. One even is brave enough to try one of your raw fairies. A picture is taken of their bloody smile after they try it, as a momento of the day.

Once they have all left for the night, there is a return to a more hidden station. One, which is tucked underneath one of the desks, and requires only a small amount of upkeep. This batch of fairy foie gras was coming along nicely, their plump bodies restricted in place with iron hooks. Two, the favorite. A true torture piece. A fairy, taped down to a dissection plate, half of its parts missing already. The flash of a smile, and a weak groan from the tiny figure.

"p-please... you were... gone so long... please... more."

It's a wonderful evening to oblige a favorite hobby.

[jbaileyfansite]

Vanity Fair Interview for the Hollywood Issue (2024)

In the last 13 months or so, Jonathan Bailey has carried on a secret gay love affair in McCarthy-era Washington, performed cunnilingus in a Regency England manor, rendered teenage boys speechless with a pop-philosophy lecture, and danced through life in a prince’s bedazzled breeches. This coming summer, he’s fleeing dinosaurs.

That would be in, respectively: Fellow Travelers, Bridgerton, Heartstopper, Wicked, and Jurassic World Rebirth. But even if he’s just pretended to do all those things, it’s understandable why Bailey is, right now, pinking his nose at a villa in Puglia.

“It is just so dreamy to be able to chill out,” he says via Zoom. “The cortisol levels have depleted.”

Playing Fiyero in Wicked was a dream come true for Bailey, who at one point in our conversation fantasizes about going to a Broadway rave with his castmates—he refers to Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo as simply “the girls”—and dancing to techno remixes of Wicked tracks, like “Defying Gravity,” under pulsating green lasers.

After filming the two-part movie with the girls, he’s nabbed an Emmy nod for Fellow Travelers and started a charity, the Shameless Fund, to uplift the LGBTQ+ community he’s proud to be a part of.

We’re thrilled to have Bailey as part of our 2025 Hollywood Issue. Here, he shares his thoughts on being a change agent in Hollywood, how he chooses roles, and the secret talent that he wishes he’d kept a secret.

Vanity Fair: What a run! How are you feeling?

Jonathan Bailey: I’m very much enjoying my holiday. But the girls started rehearsing Wicked, what, two and a half years ago? I think people assume that I haven’t had any breaks, but I have. Also, we had the strike right in the middle. What was crazy is going from Fellow Travelers to Wicked, just insane.

The Wicked movie is so close to the stage show that if you’re a big fan, you’re not going to be like, “Well, I can’t believe they…” It hews so closely, how could you complain there? But that flip. Are you a secret tumbler?

I remember I’d flown back from Canada and then I was filming Bridgerton. I met the girls then, and they were well and truly underway. I remember going to the dressing rooms, and theirs were pink and green and were just spilling into the hallway. And mine was just an interrogation room with nothing.

But I did spend the whole day with [choreographer] Chris Scott and went from Chris Scott to see [musical writer] Stephen Schwartz, and it was just, for me, boot camp days. You just lean on the amazing choreographers and obviously [director] Jon M. Chu’s vision. So when it came to the beginning of “Dancing Through Life,” I felt like it had to be sort of a flair and sort of performative, but hopefully in a way that was just with abandon and not arrogance. I did gymnastics growing up and I did dancing. I was the only boy within a whatever-mile radius. And because I was a boy and I was dancing, whenever the Royal Shakespeare Company wanted to cast someone, they called. It was dancing that got me into acting. And in dance school—not school, but a hobby club—they had acrobatics, which I was obsessed with. So I had, and still do have, a very bendy back, as shown in Wicked.

I’m a big fan of Heartstopper, the books and then the show; I loved the comic. Was that something that you sought out, or they were like, “Hey, we need someone who’s so handsome that he sends multiple people into a crisis”?

I sort of wedged myself into that part. I was so moved by the series and also the graphic novel.

And, of course, doing Bridgerton—it’s funny what comes with doing a lot of press, and suddenly there’s a lot that people want to know about you, and there’s a lot that’s asked of you that, obviously, in any other industry, you wouldn’t have to talk about. So I was hyperaware of the complexities and nuances of how I felt about myself being a gay man, let alone a gay actor, and suddenly finding success in playing a straight part and talking about that. Heartstopper seems to allow people to feel catharsis and to feel a sort of melancholic sort of nostalgia for what could have been. I was feeling all of those things anyway. And [executive producer] Patrick Walters is really good friends with Josh Cole, who produced Crashing, so it is all a bit of a small world.

I love the cast. I think they’re brilliant. I remember seeing all of them speak to their own experiences and being like, My God, they’re so erudite and grounded and thoughtful and kind and compassionate in their answers. I would be really proud of myself if I could be a part of that as my younger self. Everyone above the age of 40 should be forced to watch it.

Do you think that Hollywood is more open to risk than it used to be? So many of these projects wouldn’t have existed 10 years ago.

Yeah. And with huge budgets and [the] trusting of Universal and Donna Langley and Peter Cramer, obviously they just got the right people, with Marc Platt, and they took their time. That’s the common denominator between these things: Fellow Travelers took 10 years to percolate and run its way in his genius, genial brain, and then four years to commission. Wicked, I think they’ve been trying to make a film of it for over 10 years. With Jurassic as well, this time they’re going back to David Koepp, the original writer of the original film, and Gareth [Edwards] is shooting on film.

I’m going to crack on with the work and I’m just incredibly excited for opportunities. I do think that as long as the work is good, anyone should be able to do the job. And I think that’s what’s changed. I obviously did not imagine myself in this sort of career, so that must be a sign of progress.

Do you get recognized out and about a lot? You’re in all these properties now that have such intense fan bases.

It’s funny—obviously, you do get recognized, but the Bridgerton of it all is really interesting, because it’s one thing to be on a show that is national, but I feel like I was more recognized outside of the UK than in the UK. It takes time to adjust to, it really does. It’s not an easy thing, but it also is amazing.

Do you have any secret talents? You already said that flipping is your party trick.

Yeah, I think that, and I was going to say dexterous toes…

What do you do with them?

…. but I would regret that, so I didn’t say it.

But then you did. What can you do with them that makes you so sure they’re dexterous?

Nothing about this goes well...I just remember entertaining my sisters by being able to pick things up with my toes, but like a monkey. But we probably don’t need to put that in writing.

Physical therapists, I’m sure, hail you.

I did ballet for ages, and I’ve only as an adult found out I’ve got very flat feet. Doing Fiyero, I learned that. And the physio one day walked in because my knees were twanging, and across the room he went, “You got flat feet.”

Your big secret: flat feet.

Yeah, that’s my party trick as well.

Revealed. Do you consider yourself to be a rule follower or a rule breaker? Are you afraid of getting in trouble?

I’m not a rule breaker, I just don’t really adhere. Do you know what I mean? If someone says, don’t do that, I won’t not do it. Probably people would always have said I was probably quite naughty.

You have a philanthropy, the Shameless Fund. Can you tell me about what inspired you to start that?

I’ve always found it is impossible to talk about this without sounding like an asshole, but it’s something that I do think about: opportunities for other people. And I also see where there’s an abundance of energy, whether that be money or creative, that could be siphoned off into other areas.

With the Shameless Fund particularly, there were certain commercial opportunities that were coming my way that I just wasn’t interested in because they just didn’t feel right, or I didn’t want to be stepping into [them]. I’m hoping next year we’re going to start giving out grants, in 2025.

Whom will the grants be going to?

Well, we’ve got three that we are certain on, nonprofits and charities that work internationally and locally in the UK for areas of the LGBT+ community, to educate and elevate. Hopefully, we’ll get to a point where we can offer smaller nonprofits a platform.

The three weeks after Bridgerton came out, there were so many requests from charities that I found it so upsetting and distressing because I wanted to do all of them. “Can you come to this thing, or can you speak, or can you send a shoe, or could you send a bag? Could you sign a script?” So this is also a way where you can work with multiple groups, become a bit of a patron.

Is there anyone who you feel reached back and helped you along in your career too?

Theater directors massively. Ian McKellen was wildly amazing, and I did King Lear with him. He was one of the first people to come to see me when I did Cock on the West End, and we went for a drink afterwards. He was so clear about how it might play out, and should it play out that way, what to be excited about and what to be aware of. I couldn’t wish for a better role model.

Source

[mrs-kodzuken]

This is not a drill ♡

Pairing: Tetsurō Kuroo x fem!reader

WC: 2.8k

Genre: fluff, soulmate au

CW: fem!reader, very little swearing, soulmate au, school lockdown drill, reader has anxiety and something that can be classified as a panic attack, forced proximity, bestfriend!kenma kozume, reader being angsty, this is not proofread!!

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“I don’t know, Ken.” I sigh, my eyes darting around my room trying to avoid his piercing eyes. His watchful, can-see-through-me eyes.

Kenma was gathered on my bed, effectively ruffling my bedding that I perfectly made this morning. His two-toned hair framed his soft face, however, the dark golden eyes that he possessed were anything but.

“Hm. You talk about how you want your soulmate but then switch and say you don’t want one..” He trails off, reading right through me.

It’s not like I don’t want a soulmate per se, it’s just that I’m nervous. I mean, a person who is destined to love me forever? Sounds a lot like baloney.

Kenma and I have been friends for a while, ever since I took interest in new hobbies like video games we’ve been friends. However, much to his dissatisfaction and annoyance, I only play animal crossing.

He’s helped me with any anxiety moment I’ve had within the last few years, including this one.

“You’re of age.” He comments, his voice giving me all the comfort and confidence I need. Taking one last glance at me, he unpaused his game on his nintendo switch and continued.

The sounds of game shooting was lightly heard as I sunk farther into my desk chair. My window was open and the breeze flew through my hair, brushing small strands against my cheeks. I looked out to the bright blue sky and right then and there I finalized my decision.

I would write to them.

Being 18 meant that I’d have access to contacting my soulmate through writing on my skin. I’ve never written before but it’s been two months since I’ve turned 18 and it’s due.

I wouldn’t even know if my soulmate would write back. What if they were not 18 yet? What if they’re already in a relationship? What if we don’t speak the same language?

What if I don’t have one?

These thoughts rushed through my head at once. I immediately sat up straight and grabbed the pink pen that was sitting on my white desk.

I’ll put an end to my thinking, besides there’s a huge chance they wouldn’t respond, right?

Without stopping my movements I wrote a little, ‘Hi’ on my left arm in pink ink.

I breathed a sigh of relief, I didn’t need to worry about not contacting my soulmate anymore.

Putting that behind me I raised my arm up to show Kenma, “Ken, I did it.” I spoke into the semi-quiet silence.

Without so much as a glance, “I knew you would. Didn’t realize it’d take you this long.”

I could practically hear the taunting in his voice knowing that he meant it. I was a bit of a scaredy cat sometimes.

“They won’t even respond,” I commented nervously.

An entire night passed by in which I sent Kenma home from my house, having tired of his presence. I still hadn’t had a response from my soulmate by then and I wasn’t worried that much anymore.

I would even go on a limb and say that I was kind of content, until I felt a small tickling coming from my right arm. My eyes widened as I roughly shoved my long-sleeved shirt arm up.

‘Hey :)’ was written on my arm. The hand writing seemed neat and sloppy at the same time. It was in a green pen, kind of a weird color in my opinion.

I couldn’t help the rate of my heart as I stared at the word. I thought so many things about my soulmate but I never realized that I would get a response. Or one with a smiley face for that matter.

I couldn’t help but to pull my sleeve down, the message getting hidden within my sleeve. I don’t think I’m that ready yet. Maybe a shower will help me feel like in tune and confident again to respond.

However, that turned into maybe a nights rest, a breakfast bowl, talking with Kenma and until it was lunchtime the next day.

“Stop. Here, respond.” Kenma’s sharp voice spoke, his eyes telling the same story as his voice.

The one person I couldn’t escape that makes me do the shit that I actually need to do.

I nervously furrowed my brows and took the pen from him. Our lunch was spent on the rooftop only because I absolutely begged Kenma to come with me. I needed support in these harsh times but he decided to torture me.

“Fine,” My voice nervously grew.

With a shaker hand I started with, ‘Sorry, busy day. I guess I’m your soulmate’

It was cringe and awkward but it got the job done. I looked at my handiwork for two seconds before trying to take a bite of my food from my bento box.

‘Avoiding me, soulmate?’

A reply came quick from the other half of me. My eyes bulged out of my head but before I could pretend it didn’t happen an irritating voice spoke.

“Do I really need to write for you?” Kenma annoyingly spoke as if I was inconveniencing him by not responding to my soulmate.

“Uhgm, no,” I grumbled and fastened my lunch box then continued with the ink pen.

‘Never!’

I slightly smiled, even though I didn’t even know the first thing about love or my soulmate, it was kind of fun trying to continue a conversation.

‘What’s your name ;)’

A writing came back to me quickly. I used some of my germ-x on a tissue to wipe off my writings because I wasn’t ambidextrous. I had a feeling my soulmate could be since I was getting writings on both of my arms.

‘Call me (Y/n)’ I responded after my skin dried enough for me to write on it.

The breeze of the wind calmed me down more, it always seemed to ground me in times like these.

That’s really how I spent my lunch break with Kenma. It wasn’t really with Kenma but writing to my soulmate instead, with Ken’s pushing of course.

By the end of my lunch break I had a nickname for my soulmate which was, ‘Tetsu’. He was 6’2, same age as me, and his favorite color was red. I thought it was strange how much of a coincidence it was that he had to go at the same time I did.

The chiming of the bells signaled for us to pack up and head to our next classes. Going to school at Nekoma was pretty great. I had a best friend who pushed me to my best in his own way. I was pretty good with my academics and never needed tutoring.

It seemed as if the summertime coming up was the perfect time, adding along the newfound excitement I’ve gotten from speaking with my soulmate.

Every time we talked it was so captivating that I even had stopped and wrote to him in class sometimes. That was really unlike my usual. My usual was always paying attention, helping my classmates around me and taking notes to study later.

A random thought crashed against my head while I was studiously gazing outside the window of my class. I could never get enough of the beautiful weather and view.

When was my soulmates birthday?

My birthday was February 28th and now it’s two months later but from how soon Tetsu responded to my message wouldn’t that mean he’s been 18 longer than I have? And if he’s been 18 longer than I have, why didn’t he write me?

I slowed my pace, my eyes drifted down to the slowing steps of my black indoor shoes. The embarrassment ranged through me as I came to a hurtful conclusion.

I wrote at the wrong time. Tetsu wasn’t ready for me. I probably inconvenienced him because I’m just that helpless of a person.

The annoying tears stung my eyes as I changed into my regular shoes from my locker. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was to really think that he would want me. He doesn’t even know me, hasn’t even met me.

“(Y/n).”

I looked up from my walk outside the school to see Kenma with his bag slung across his shoulder. His other hand holding his game. My bottom lip trembled as I could unfortunately see the sympathy in his eyes. He didn’t even know what happened and he cares.

I ran into his arms, not caring about who was around to see. It’s not really like anyone was and if they were they kept to their own business.

He sighed and rubbed my back with his free hand as a couple of tears slipped from my eyes onto his uniform which soaked them up like a sponge.

I heard footsteps coming towards us until a small movement from Kenma made the footsteps start to retreat.

A scary thought passed through my head at that exact moment, how I wished Kenma was my soulmate.

The lump in my throat only grew when I slowly broke the semi-hug he tried to comfort me with.

Blinking back the embarrassing tears, I gave him a somewhat half smile and started to continue my—our— walk to my house.

“So, want to tell me or do you need me?” Kenma quietly asked, poking me on the back of my head when I collapsed face down into my bed.

“You.” My voiced muffled but I’m sure he clearly heard it.

A sigh was heard before he climbed into the bed with me. He sat up right, his hand delicately stroking my shoulder and back comfortingly.

“Ken, this sounds bad.. but I wished you were my soulmate today instead of him..” I quietly mumbled, it wasn’t something that would come true. Kenma didn’t have feelings for me and I didn’t have feelings for him. It was a mutual respect kind of thing between us but I know with me saying that, I crossed a line.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and then immediately began to gather his things from my floor.

“Ken? Kenma, what are you doing?” I worriedly questioned, hoping and praying that I didn’t just lose my only real friend.

“Leaving. You can’t just say things like that (Y/n). You don’t know him yet, nor his feelings.” His cold voice cooley told me. He left, closing my bedroom door while he was at it without so much as a spare glance at me.

I couldn’t stop the tears. I wasn’t surprised how my actions led me here, more so my overthinking. I shoved my head into my hands, negatively ignoring the harsh grazing at my arms repeatedly throughout the night.

I trudged into school with an umbrella in hand. Of course it decided to rain when I wasn’t feeling the best. Kenma hadn’t answered any of my messages I sent him. Coincidentally, I hadn’t answered any of the words Tetsu had wrote me.

I shoved my things into my locker and realized I had forgotten the time and was going to be late to class. That is until an announcement came on to the intercom scaring me into next year.

“Lockdown. Lockdown. I repeat Lockdown, lockdown. This is not a drill.” The monotone voice spoke out and sent a shrill of fear through my body. Almost every classroom was closed or beginning to be closed.

I panicked, I started running through the empty halls trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide myself.

A hand grabbed my own and yanked me into what looked like a cleaning closet. I was about to scream until a large hand covered my mouth. I couldn’t see in the darkness but heard a low, soothing voice.

“It’s okay. I’m a student too.” The male tried to comfort me in my panicked state.

A lock sound was heard from our side of the door, he locked it. The fearful nerves calmed down a bit but being this close to the door and my breathing being this rapid wasn’t helping.

Turns out there was a lot of space in the cleaning closet. The good thing was we were able to hide ourselves behind plenty of cleaning outfits and supplies. The bad thing was in order for no one to hear me from outside the door, we had to be trapped in close.

My knees were pressed against the males’ as I tried to calm my breathing down.

“Are you okay? I know this is scary.” He soothed me, a gentle hand coming to lay on my knee.

He was trying to ground me from my fear.

It was hard to see him but after taking the voice into account I definitely recognized it. I’ve heard this voice in some of my classes before too.

“I’m fine. Thanks for helping and hiding me.” I whispered, I knew that no one would be able to hear me but I whispered anyway.

“Of course, (Y/n).” He spoke out, making me freeze. How did he know my name? I didn’t even know his.

“You know me? Isn’t that amazing?” I embarrassingly said, thankful he couldn’t necessarily see how red my face was turning.

“I think I should know the name of my soulmate, considering how she’s friends with my same friend.” He easily said and I nearly combusted.

“What’s your name?” I warily asked, I wouldn’t dare take his word for real until I knew his name. There wouldn’t be any way that my soulmate was here with me in this cleaning closet.

“Kuroo.”

“Oh.” My voice came out sounding nearly like disappointment. He’s not my soulmate. My heart stopped beating as fast as it had and seemed to be beating slower due to the angst feeling inside of me.

“Sorry, I just thought—I’ve been trying to—well, I mean that I-“ I exhaled, stopping my stammering which only happened in states like these that I’m in.

“The first name is Tetsurō.” He stated to me, I could feel the piercing gaze from him.

It all suddenly clicked right then and there. What Kenma said about reaching out, about not considering everything, about the nickname my soulmate gave me.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

“You’re Tetsu..” I trailed, my voice evident of shock.

Suddenly the position we both were in seemed a little too intimate and intense for me. I tried shifting a bit to give me a clear head but only made us close by adjusting my legs on him.

Kuroo’s warm hands held my legs in place, “I tried writing to you, (Y/n).” He did his best to hold my gaze before I looked away into the darkness.

“I tried for three months. I didn’t give up because I had hope, I just thought when you’d turn of age you’d finally write me.” He tried to devoid his voice from any emotion but I could hear it, feel it even.

“Three months? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Kuroo. I was just so nervous, I just couldn’t.” I tried explaining to him why I had did what I did.

“I know, I’m friends with Kenma you know? I wanted you to come to me by your own ways but I suppose I did push Kenma a bit. Telling him to crack down on you, giving him advice how to comfort you. I just knew when I saw you on your birthday and it was you.”

Words could not explain how much those simple sentences meant the world to me. Kuroo did all of that to ensure that I was ready to come to him.

My heart melted.

“Thank you, for letting me come at my time.” I shyly confessed, still hiding—or trying to—hide myself.

“You’re welcome, soulmate. I needed a way to help you calm down and decided why not today to do it?” He chuckled, patting my thigh with his warm hand.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe it was the way he knew me. Maybe it was the way he let me come to him—with the help of our friend. Maybe it was just him.

The ear prickling noise of the intercom announced that the lockdown was over and deemed it as a successful drill.

I was scared for no reason, my annoyance was something that couldn’t be stopped. I seriously thought I was in danger.

Kuroo and I shuffled out of the closet and I got a good look at him. More so the height difference between us.

“How about we hit up a tea shop on the way home?” Tetsu offered, a little shine to his dark eyes when speaking to me.

Putting my nervousness aside, I agreed. After that we couldn’t stop writing to each other because it seemed way more intimate than texting.

However, I did share my findings with Kenma. He was pretty proud of me—in his own way—of finding my soulmate.

I couldn’t wait for those bells to chime, signaling the tea date I’d have with Tetsu.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you guys liked and let me know if you want more or have any requests!

the header is made by me, please like/blog if used <3

[beansnpeets]

Hey friends, wanna help me paint my house?

This is gonna be my hobby room. The larger side with the window is gonna be pink and the smaller side will be the green. Just deciding on which shades to do. The darkest green is the same as what I am doing the bathroom downstairs. I wanna know what you guys think tho.

I also wanna do an accent wall on the wall with the window. Either stripes or checkers maybe. And idk if i wanna do each colour with white or just use both the pink and green on the whole wall.

[ave09]

Do you still do jay gatsby request? If so.. Can you make a fluff with him and a painter fem s/o? Or just someone who can draw i guess.. It'll be cute to see his reaction when he became a muse and some inspiration of his lover's art

muse

jerjordan!jay gatsby x female!reader

note; i loved this idea! it was a tad bit rushed, but i still think it’s cute! pls keep the jeremy content coming, i have so many almost done in my notes app! fun fact about me, i usually write prompts way out of order! but i will get to them all, i promise!

her brows furrowed in concentration, her tongue protruding out of her pink lips as she dragged the brush across the canvas, the colors swirling right before her eyes. it was all coming together. no longer a blank canvas sat before her, but instead a man. the very man who held her heart. it was a rather good depiction in her sense. he was practically alive on the canvas. and he was… well… beautiful.

she was so engrossed in her work, she found herself unable to hear the quiet footsteps of the very man she was painting. 

and what he saw… made him speechless. he always knew she was an artist, hell, he’d set up this entire room dedicated to her craft. dozens of paintings of the estate, of that green light across the bay and so much more littered the walls. but this… this was something entirely different.

there he was, sprawled upon the canvas, so very realistically. but it was the image that truly made a difference. he wasn’t clad in one of his nice suits as many pictures and paintings had previously depicted. but instead… he seemed rather… simple. his hair a tad messy, clad in a button up that was slightly unbuttoned, the strap of his suspenders sliding off of his shoulders. but it was his expression that truly made the image. he looked so… happy. the crinkles around his eyes were prominent as he smiled, his eyes almost twinkling. it all seemed so lifelike.

“flower..” his voice was so soft, but even then it surprised her. the brush almost fell from her fingertips, “jay! darling, speak up next time.” she hummed, swiveling around in her seat, a relaxed smile on her lips. the furrow in her brow deepened as she took in his expression. “dear… are you alright…? you look rather flushed.” 

“you…” he was unable to find words as he stepped closer. “you did this..?”

she glanced back at her painting. “it’s barely even close to finished.” his soft eyes traced over it before meeting her gaze once again.

“do you always..”

“do i what?”

it was a silly question. 

“i just-i have never seen… never seen you use your talent to… to depict me.” she arched her brows, “you haven’t?” 

this caught him by surprise. 

“jay, darling, how have you not noticed?” she asked softly, setting the brush down, standing from her seat. “come, come,” she hummed, beckoning him over. 

confused, he followed close behind, watching as she retrieved a sketchbook of sorts. he’d always seen her painting, it was her signature piece, always painting, sketching had never seemed her forte.

she passed it to him, which he took gingerly. she gave him a nod, as if giving permission for him to look. he began to flip through and found that every page, every single page, was him. some sketches were simple. his hands, his face. whereas others were absolutely beautiful. full page drawings of him just… just being him.

it was breathtaking.

“my flower..” he breathed, glancing up to meet her gaze. “this is..”

“it is quite a lot to take in, i’m sure.”

he nodded. 

“you’re my muse.” she said, as if it was as simple as can be. 

jay gatsby had never felt more honored in his life. a small smile tugged at his lips. “your muse?” she pecked his cheek, “my muse.” 

“will i always be your muse?”

“forever and always.” 

his smile only grew as he carefully closed the book. “might i watch you paint, darling?” 

“you may.”

jay gatsby quickly found his new favorite hobby. watching the love of his life portray him through her own eyes, and realizing truly how much love she had for him.

and it only amplified his love for her.

after all… everything. every small thing, everything big thing, it was all for her.

[shadows-over-the-wastes]

Shadows Over the Wastes: Chapter One

Stables. Bunkers, more or less, created to shelter ponies from the doomsday that was The Day the Bombs Fell. Or, aptly, The Final Day. Created with self-sustaining magical technology that would run until Reclamation Day. And even further beyond that. This is the environment I had known my entire life. Yellowcake Cream, an altogether uninspiring, and unassuming unicorn.

That was me. With a yellow coat, a blue-green mane that’s always too messy and sloppily tied back, and bright green eyes that have a blue discoloration to the sclera. My cutie mark is a Balefire green glass tuning fork, surrounded by a blue glow. If anything about me was unique or impressive, it was that. But it didn’t do much to compensate for my rather lacking stature, being one of, if not the, shortest mares in the entire Stable. It also didn’t explain my sad physique. I’m rather chubby, to put it lightly. Fat, to put it accurately. And worst of all, I never look like I get enough sleep, and I have a horrendous cough I can never get rid of. I’m not asthmatic, I’m just pathetic.

My special talent is… a little unclear. But I’m really good at fixing up the reactor in the Stable, and I’m unaffected by radiation, so my place is clear. I’m a reactor engineer and technician. A rather high-clearance, and low-effort job, which doesn’t help with my weight problem. Most of the time, I spend my days watching old TV shows, re-reading the Stable library’s selection, or simply hanging out in the bakery.

My sweet tooth was my friend Cherry Garcia’s fault. She’s the bakery mare, and runs the shop by herself, which she took over when her mother retired. Her coloration was that of red velvet cake. A maroon coat with a creamy white mane, striped with chocolate brown, and beautiful, crystal pink eyes. She was the Stable’s eye candy, always was for her peers, even when we were foals. All the colts thought she was the prettiest thing in the whole wide world. They weren’t wrong, but she always expressed that stallions weren’t really for her. She and I met because I was always the smartest foal in the class, and the quietest. She’s not book smart, but socially smart, so she came to me for help. We’ve more or less been inseparable ever since.

The piercings in my ears were my friend Aero Ace’s fault. He’s a punky gray stallion with a faux-colorful black mane, violet eyes, and plenty of tats and piercings to match. He’s an artist, with a needle and a brush. He’s also a troublemaker. Always has been, always will be. He’s not as big as some other stallions, built very lithe, and quick on his wings. We met for similar reasons, but moreso because he wanted to know the most effective way to prank somepony using a Mr. Handy robot. I told him all the ins and outs and how to change personality scripts. Even helped him do it. He stuck around me since then.

Today was another day of nothing, spent in my room, with a comic book sprawled on my bed. I was sat comfortably, twirling a pen in my magical grip as a notebook laid next to the comic. I wasn’t reading it, so much as I was using it as reference to draw. Another hobby I’d picked up to kill some time. I started when I was 16, and had gotten pretty good over the years. Sighing, I closed the comic book, going back to sketching. I was drawing a cowpony gunslinger, with a big chunky revolver. I always thought cowpoke were cool, that and the concept of aliens.

I heard a knock on my Stable room door. “Go away.” I called over, not peeling my eyes away.

“It’s Cherry!” Garcia called through the speaker system.

“Oh! C’mon in!” My ears pricked up, dropping my pen and looking over at the door.

The metal bulkhead door opened up, and the earth pony walked right through. She had a big, cheeky smile, a tray balanced on her back. She wore the same Stable suit we all did, dark blue and gold trim, branded with a bold 27. “Another hard day of work, huh?” She joked.

“Yeah yeah, I know. You can ask me for help if you need it, y’know.” I replied, leaning my head on a hoof.

“Oh no… don’t want you pulling a muscle.” Garcia smirks, joining me on the bed by my side, and gently setting the tray in front of us. It had three or four pastries on it, assorted. “Brought you the daily extras. Since you didn’t visit…”

I snickered, picking up an eclair with my magic. “Jeeze… this is all extras, huh?”

“Just figured I’d bring you some, since you never bothered to visit.” She chuckles, giving my side a poke.

Feeling my face flare up, I bit a sizable chunk from the pastry. “Sho what bringsh you by?”

“Well, I wanted to see your workspace! You always hang by the bakery, I’ve never gotten to see the reactor room.” She answers rather bluntly, shrugging.

I cough, almost choking on my mouthful. “You… you do?”

“Mmhmm! I wanna see what you do!” She grins, flashing her perfect white teeth.

I hesitated, eating the other half of my eclair, thinking it over. “Well… uh, I’m not really supposed to have anypony else in there. It’s a… bit of a dangerous environment.”

“Pleeeease…?” She pushes her nose up against my cheek, giving me the wettest puppy eyes she can manage. “I promise I’ll behave… I’ll even bake your favorite cake for the morning if you take me.”

My ears flopped back, “…Banana? You really don’t have to, y’know. You already brought all this.”

“Mmmhmmm…” Cherry nods, leaning on me a little more. “For my favorite nerd…”

Unfortunately, try as I might, I felt my face burn with her honeyed words. I hated how good she was at sweet talking me, it always worked. “Uhhh… y-um. Okay… I can take you in for the morning maintenance check.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” Cherry gives me a tight hug, practically suffocating me with her forelegs. I didn’t really understand the excitement, but it was flattering in a sense.

I chuckled, giving her back a pat with a hoof. “I… don’t really understand why you’re so enthusiastic, but I won’t complain.”

“So what time do I need to be here?” Cherry backs up a little bit, her tail giving an excited shake.

Rubbing under my chin, I thought for a moment. “Ideally you wanna get here before security starts their morning patrol. I’d say anywhere between 06 hundred and half past. Preferably on the dot, though.” I pointed at her, “But. You need to do as I say. Any safety precaution not taken for you can mean dire radiation poisoning.”

“Promise… anything you say, I’ll do it.” She pats her chest, nodding.

Sighing, I give a nod, “Alright… be here fresh and early. And clean. Please. The decontamination protocols call for a shower at least the day before entering the reactor room.”

Nodding again, she smiles. “Showered and early, got it.”

Tapping my hooves together, I glance around the room. “So… um. Did you… wanna stick around for any other reason?”

“Of course, silly. Keep drawing, I’ll watch…” She leans on me, getting comfortable.

The morning came unceremoniously, after a productive day of drawing and eating the pastries that Cherry brought me. Getting on my Stable suit, I clicked my Pip-Buck onto my right foreleg, using a few dials and switches to get my authorization ready. As I walked out of my Stable room, I was greeted with the sight of the Overmare, Silver Lining. In the same hallway as me, speaking to another Stable member. She shot me a look, one that was hard on the nerves. She always tested me, ever since I took my Mother’s position as the reactor tech. Makes sense, considering this job is what took my Mom from me. And as far as my Dad goes, no news. Nopony really knows who he is. My Mom had an alcohol problem, and slept around. It could be any stallion, and she simply forgot. It made me a bastard foal. Something that was tough to live with. Something that got me taunted through my school years.

Breaking me out of the stare was Cherry, tapping me on the shoulder. “Hey! You good?”

“Uh… yeah. Fine.” I shrugged it off, starting to head for the reactor room. Garcia trailed closely at my side, trying to gauge what was wrong. I could tell, by the way her eyes were burning a hole through my skull.

“By the way, your cake should be settled by the time you come back with me to the bakery!” Cherry smiled, trying to turn my mind onto something else.

Looking over, I scoffed, “Yeah? You actually made one? You didn’t have to, you know. You have other customers.”

“You’re not a customer, Cake! You’re my friend. My best friend, at that.” She bumps me, nearly sending me off balance.

Stumbling a little, I snickered, shaking my head. “Alright, if you insist.” Before we knew it, we got to the reactor room. Glancing around, I checked to make sure nopony was near. Then, once confirmation was ensured, I opened the door. “Go go go…” I waved Cherry inside, before stepping in myself. Locking the door behind us, I sighed. “Alright. Now here’s the tough part.”

“I thought that was the tough part?” Cherry cocked her head.

Moving to a rack with hazmat suits, I shook my head. “Nope. You need to put one of these on.” I tossed her one, sitting so I could watch her.

Starting to slowly pull it on, she grunts. “Don’t you need one too?”

“Nope. My body doesn’t react to the excited magi-tomic energy in the air.” I wave a hoof. “Dunno why, but it doesn’t.”

“Huh…” She fits the respirator mask over her head, and I seal the suit, starting the circulation of air. Once ready, she stomps the metal shoes of the suit against the floor. “Good to go!” Her voice is garbled through the respirator, but clear enough.

Heading to the decontamination room, it seals behind us. Misting us with a germ-scrub solution, we’re then dried off. Then, without any further delay, we walk right through, into the reactor room. The reactor itself is a technological wonder. A Balefire reactor, one of the only subjects of its kind. Most other Stable reactors rely on magi-tomic fusion. Thus, they need their core replaced eventually. However, a Balefire reactor is a perpetual magic machine. A self-sustaining dark magic reaction, exothermic, and highly radioactive. It looked like a giant metal sphere, suspended by a series of green-glowing wires, with a thrumming, bright emerald mass swirling within.

“Welcome to where the magic happens.” I motioned to the generator. “My maintenance typically consists of dark energy ventilation, sorting, and purification.” Moving to a few tubes lining the walls, three on each side, I pulled large red levers on their sides. “Using these, more or less, vacuum-based traps, I suck the excess dark energy from the reaction, and trap them in specialized battery housing.” I demonstrate, tapping on a tube swirling with green-blue energy. Then, turning a wheel on the tube, I initiate the exchange. The energy excites, then decelerates, and solidifies into bright gold strands. Pure solar fusion energy. A primitive mocking of Celestia’s godly power, in the quick of my hoof. “And… voila. Pure, unfiltered celestial energy. Ready to be cycled into an empty core. This is a gross oversimplification of the process, but… I don’t think you could really get it without years of education. Like me.”

“That’s insane! I never knew this is what you did!” Cherry sounded astonished, staring intently at the raw fusion energy.

I nodded, patting the tube. “That’s pretty much it. Do that for every tube, and it’s exchanged. Easy stuff. Those cores are cleaner and last longer.”

She and I spent the next hour or two talking and ventilating the reactor. She quizzed me on just about everything I knew, regarding magi-tomic energy at least. I’d never had anypony else be as interested in it as I was, it was refreshing. However, just as we were getting ready to leave, single file through the decontamination room, I heard something. Before I entered the room with her, my ears twitched, and Cherry looked at me through the bulkhead door. “You okay?”

“I heard something. We shouldn’t have any other unauthorized life signs in the room. It’s protocol.” I kept my voice down, eyebrows furrowing. Then, I closed the bulkhead, squinting as I turned around.

Cherry banged a hoof on the door, looking through the window. “Cake?! What’s going on??” Her voice was heavily muffled, but audible.

Looking back, I yelled through the door. “Stay here, and stay safe! I’m gonna find what’s crawling around in here!” “Cake! No! C’mon! This is a job for security!” She bangs on the door. Unfortunately for her, my curiosity was getting the better of me.

The reactor room didn’t have much in the way of weapons. For defense or no. But, a screwdriver should do the trick. I’ve read a few comics where a good screwdriver to the eye was more or less a low-end lobotomy. I didn’t wanna kill anypony, so a lobotomy would have to do. However, I found the origin of the sound. One of the metal panels on the wall of the room had been moved, revealing a long, dark corridor.

I hesitated, but I made my way within. Using my horn to light my way, a cold breeze blew over my body as the panel suddenly shut. And locked.