#every time I write this it's like “does it make sense?”

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.

sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.

no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.

a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.

“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.

even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”

you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”

you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”

“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”

you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.

of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.

“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.

“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”

“then do just that.”

sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.

you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.

and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.

he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!

sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.

watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.

not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).

he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.

needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.

(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you

[scaredbisexual]

MOOTS🥹 I am here to request🙏 Can I request a Joost Klein x reader enemies to lovers? Just a classic trope🤭

You ask and I deliver, my liege.

Dunno if it's enough lovers, if you would like me to elaborate in part two lemme know, I'm open to continuing this story!

Big, big kisses for my first request, too! Love ya!

And he did | Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary: ‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 

‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ 

Word count: 1011 (in half an hour no less, I'm crazy for him)

WARNINGS: some swearing, nothing explicit

Author's note: there is no use of Y/N, but the reader is referred to as "she" and is mentioned to wear a dress. I haven't yet mastered the ability to write those in a gn way, but gimme some time and I'll try to do better!

The corridors were lively as ever, curving and suddenly ending, loads of people walking around them and talking excitedly amongst each other. It was an important night, one that would be remembered by many for years and years to come. Everyone was ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins, silly and/or sexy costumes on, game-faces on. It was show-time. 

‘For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with!’ someone exclaimed from the side but she paid them no mind. She was walking hurriedly, her steps loud and heavy, chest raising rapidly, as if she has just run for hour hours on end. But she hasn’t, no, that was actually more exhausting. 

Rage. The pure rage that was born in her veins, surging through her system, flushing out every other emotion ever known to her. Rage that was born ages ago, eons before. 

Finally having reached her destination she pushed the heavy door to a dim-lit room, a certain name and surname decorating it. “Joost Klein” it read, a dorky-looking cutout of his face hanging right next to it. He must have done it himself. Yeah, that would make perfect sense, actually. 

She opened the door and right away closed it behind her, looking at the scene in front of her. Here he was, in his European-Union-Blue, his jacket laying on the floor, discarded in a hurry, looking sad when it only ever brought joy to people. And next to it, on a plush sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a teacup in hand, sat him. The reason for her rage, the man who made her see red.

He got startled at her entrance, the liquid sloshing in his cup and burning his hand. He hissed in pain and a grimace made its way on his face. A, objectively speaking, handsome face with a frown etched onto it, brows furrowed, eyes red. 

‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely. 

‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ the man replied, his voice thick with emotion, trying to act like it wasn’t. Like it was just him, the goofy guy with jokes and anecdotes up his sleeves. 

‘Like hell it does!’ she protested. It was hot in the room, so hot and heavy, the silence after her words suffocating them both. He slowly raised his head, turning around to look at her. He tilted his head to the side, silently posing a question. ‘I don’t like injustice, Joost, you know it.’ 

And it was true. She hated when she or others were getting fucked over, lied to, when bad things happened to good people, essentially. 

The rage was still there, it’s quiet bonfire still burning brightly, albeit a little dimmer, just a tad. She didn’t hear any ringing in her head anymore, just the labored breathing of him and her. Of them. 

And isn’t that funny? The both of them sitting in one room, eyeing one another and not saying a word. After all, it was more than usual for them to get into catfights, sneer at one another, jokingly (or not) tease. It has been like it forever, really, ever since they met at this one festival at the beginning of both of their career. It has been like that ever since he spilled his drink on her stage costume and then laughed, not sparing her another glance. 

Ever since they continued to meet on other festivals, her shooting daggers at his and his friends’ careless behavior, him sticking his tongue out at her and walking away. 

Ever since she tripped over one of the cables and bumped into him, causing him to drop one of the microphones and destroying it. Ever since she fought fiercely to not pay for such mike.

That moment, yes. The rage seemed to be saying, its fingers curling around her heart and clenching, stuffing her full of the need to sneer, to bite back. 

But how? How was she supposed to think of this careless teenage boy she met when she, too, was a stupid young girl? How to do it when there he was, curled on himself, dark bags under his eyes, the sleeves of his shirt uncuffed and crumpled, as if he squeezed them in his hands too much. A skipping rope laid somewhere in the mess of the room, discarded just like his jacket.

And so the silence continued while the room got colder and colder, her face softer and his eyes glassier. 

‘Fuck the EBU’ she muttered, walking closer to him. She approached the sofa, took a deep breath and sat next to him. The man followed her every move with his eyes, a glint of something making them shine. Or maybe it was just the unshed tears. 

‘Yeah’ he rasped. Joost shook his blonde hair, as if he were a dog, as if shaking off the sadness. He slapped a goofy looking grin on his face and wiggled his brows at her. ‘You worried or something?’ he teased, nudging her with his elbow. 

And that did it. In the speed of lightning she lounged herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. The kind that breaks bones and any internal barricades you may have. She put her chin on his head and waited. 

To give credit where credit’s due, he reacted instantly. He snaked his arms around her body, resting his forehead on her chest and taking a deep, shaky breath. 

‘You would’ve won this’ she whispered gently, stroking his hair. The rage was gone, the hot hot feeling fleeting the moment she saw his fake smile. Instead another kind of warmth bloomed in her chest, shaking her to her core. And he didn’t seem to fare any better, his shoulders slumping and fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. 

‘You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine’ she mumbled into his hair, stroking his back in soothing circles. ‘Breathe, Joost, just breathe’. 

And he did.

#joost klein #europapa #eurovision 2024 #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #justice for joost #joostice #eurovision song contest

[cameronspecial]

hii! I really love and enjoy all of your writings, you are so amazing and talented!

I checked just to be sure before I ask if you could write about rafe being/having casual dominance towards a clumsy!reader but she doesn’t really notice she’s clumsy or a bit reckless?

i’m so sorry if this doesn’t make sense my english isn’t that good but it’s okay if you don’t want to this, I love your work anyway! thank you so much!

Clumsy Princess

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

A/N: You are so sweet, thank you!

Masterlist

Rafe knows how to control his body. He is aware of every movement he does and how it affects and is affected by his environment. He is practically Spider-Man. Y/N, on the other hand, is the completely opposite. She bumbles around the world like a baby doe on freshly born legs. Her depth perception is severely lacking and it has led to a variety of bruises all over her body. However, ever since she started dating Rafe, the number of her accidents has dwindled.

———

The couple walks hand-in-hand around the aquarium, taking their time to look at the different exhibits. Rafe booked out the whole place, so they didn’t worry about other people being in the way. The first place she has wanted to go is to look at the turtle and they have been making their way to the animals for five minutes now. They finally spot the hard-shelled sea creatures and her face lights as bright as a star. She rushes to the tank while dragging him behind her. As soon as they get to the tank, he places the back of his hand against the glass around her height. She can’t question what he is doing because before she can, the momentum of her hurry to get to the glass causes her forehead to hit his hand. Her left hand reaches up to rub where a bump would have been forming if not for Rafe and she turns to him with a thankful smile. “Thank you, Baby.” She rises on her tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips. 

———

Her hand is looped into his as they walk down the street after leaving the aquarium. They are heading to Chinatown to get something to eat. “And I told her that she was being mean…” The words Y/N is saying fade away from Rafe’s ears as he sees the street lamp coming up and he has a fortune-teller moment. He nods with a smile, pretending to listen. As they pass the lamp, he is sure to tug her to his side. She narrowly misses walking into the pole, yet she doesn’t notice and she continues on with her story. “She said I was the one at fault.” Rafe can now focus on his girlfriend’s words because there are no dangers in sight. 

———

They get back home and she can’t wait to get to their room to watch Coco like Rafe said they could. He holds her hand whilst she stumbles over her shoes as she takes them off, but she lets go of it as she runs to the stairs. Rafe is right behind her. She rushes up the stairs and feels his hands on her waist. As he predicted, she was going too fast and would’ve missed the first step, which would’ve caused her to face plant right into the steps. She straightens up and looks at him with a sheepish grin. He returns the smile and rests his hand against her lower back to help her upstairs. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks

[hotheadedhero]

Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

#apologies #i am very ill #what's new #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #x reader #raphael #rise raph #rise raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #raph tmnt #raph x reader #fem reader #female reader #silly #fluff

[peachyogurtwithchocolate]

Harvey SDV Headcannons

-----------------------------

A/N: Hey there!! Im very new to actually writing on Tumblr so i just wanted to give a little warning.

I absolutely love it when people reblog my stuff so feel free to! All I ask is that you don't claim my stuff as your own.

And obviously as with all fanfics, these are just my opinions!

Word Count: (idk, I was too lazy to check)

Warnings: None!

-----------------------------

Before Dating (Friends)

I feel like Harvey doesn't communicate super well with friends. Obviously I know that he can only have so many lines in the game but even when he does speak to the farmer, its ALWAYS about work.

Lets face it: Harvey definetly isnt the bravest. But when he doesnt see you a couple of hours after you say youre going into the caves, there he goes, up into the mountains past Robin's house.

When Harvey finds you passed out in the mines, he freaks out internally. He tries to keep himself composed but you can tell by his sweaty palms and flustered appearance.

Harvey is very adamant about you having regular check-ups (and everyone else in Pelican Town, of course). Like this man will not leave you alone until he does the basics, such as taking your blood pressure and hearing for an irregular heart pattern.

Harvey is very awkward when it comes to gift giving. If he were to get the farmer as a secret friend at the Feast of the Winter Star, he would freak out.

After literal HOURS of searching through Pelican Town, I feel like he would settle on something simple like a wine, candle, or soft blanket.

If the farmer were to give him a gift at the Feast of the Winter Star that he LOVES, he woulf absolutely melt. He thinks its so emdearing to have a friend in Pelican Town that genuinely took the time to listen to him and pick out the perfect gift

-----------------------------

Falling in Love/Dating

While on the topic of the Feast of the Winter Star, I think that a gesture such as you giving him his favorite gift would make him realize that there was something between you

When he realized that he was falling in love, he distanced himself slightly. Harvey is totally the type of person who would never really think about the idea of love until he was faced with it. He probably had no idea what to do and just chose to ignore it for a while.

Harvey doesnt have the heart to just ghost the farmer, however, so eventually it comes to the point where every hangout just gets a little uncomfortable and awkward.

Once Harvey worked up the guts (yes that was a Dr. joke), he would ask the farmer out. It would start as a normal hangout, walking past the fountain near the community center. After a while, he wohkf convince you to take a walk up past the mountain and near the train station. A bouquet of flowers had been waiting for you at the end of the walk. Once Harvey had gotten over his anxiety, he would confess to you in a small speech that he had memorized. As soon as you said yes, he was a blushing mess.

If the famer got around to asking him first, however, Harvey would almost be embarrassed in a way if that makes sense. Deep down he knew that he didnt have the confidence to ask you out, but he still feels a little awkward about it.

After a short and sweet "yes" from him, you too were literally inseperable. Like I'm talking holding hands no matter what and sharing small pecks on the cheeks when nobody is looking.

Overall, falling in love with Harvey is a very sweet and wholesome experience filled with many awkward moments along the way.

#harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #fanfic #sdv farmer #sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew

[bicheetopuff]

Y’all are getting annoying with all of this hate. This chapter didn’t go the way you wanted it to so you start calling hori a terrible writer? You start saying it’s disgraceful? Are you for real?

Why’re we acting like the story is over? Was there a “the end” somewhere that I missed? Was there a conformation that Shigaraki was completely dead that I also missed? You guys are right that there are some things that didn’t make sense and that it felt a little rushed and how Nanas connection with Shigaraki was off screened but, we still have chances to see all of that.

The thing with Nana might come up with All Might and Gran Torino incase y’all forgot that he’s apart of that whole thing. There could a flashback for Tomura Shigaraki: Rising. Shigaraki could manifest overhaul and put himself back together.

Here’s the thing though, Deku was never motivated to save Shigaraki, he wanted to save the crying child inside of him. AFO was rewinding his age every time he died for like 30 fucking chapters, are you really convinced that he didn’t make sure Shigaraki, his vessel/escape goat, didn’t have the same quirk just incase? Wouldn’t it come full circle for Shigaraki to come out of this as young Tenko? Wouldn’t that even make MORE sense than Deku trying to save someone that’s already too far gone physically? Shigaraki was literally falling apart, wtf was Deku gonna do? Glue him back together? Stop punching him while he was still possessed and trying to kill him and others?

Why is this fandom always mad when Deku does anything? Some people are saying he didn’t have any emotional investment in Shigaraki and that he didn’t show emotion when he died but, we haven’t even gotten the chance to see his reaction yet. The last page he’s super far away and facing away from the camera, how tf do you know he’s not upset? How do you know he’s not looking at Tenko right now?

All of this to say, can y’all just be patient for once? Wait a few chapters before you start literally wishing death on Hori for writing something that didn’t please you in a shonen manga. At this point, some of you need to just drop the series if it’s gonna get under your skin this much. I’m really tired of defending this fandom and being associated with it when y’all are being this outrageous. Some of you need to start thinking and reflecting after you read rather than just go straight to your keyboard and start throwing metaphorical rocks into Horikoshis metaphorically online window.

#is Shigaraki rewinding back to being Tenko really that much of a stretch after AFO was doing the same shit for an entire arc #or am I just crazy #bnha #bnha 423 #bnha spoilers #you guys need to leave deku alone too #god forbid he do anything without your faves #y’all are acting like that one friend that gets violently jealous when your friends go do something without inviting you #I don’t say this often but I need some of you to go outside #why is a manga that’s not even done yet pissing you off so much #to the point that you’re calling it disgraceful #there’s nothing wrong with constructive criticism but some of you are acting like hori just broke into your house and shot your dog #get off his back

[spaceshipkat]

The first letter arrives with all the fanfare of a bomb. Gale, being half-asleep and hunched over the table in the mess, mechanically spooning dry scrambled eggs into his mouth without really tasting them, doesn’t notice the private stopped by his table until the white envelope lands by his plate, dropped not unlike a used tissue.

“Sorry, Major Cleven,” the private says. “It arrived a couple days ago, but I only just noticed. Hopefully it’s nothing urgent.”

Gale just mumbles his thanks and the private fades away into the background noise of the subdued mess hall full of airmen blinking away cobwebs. Gale slips his thumb beneath the flap without looking at the return address, tugs the letter free of its trappings, and spends several long seconds simply blinking at the salutation. The handwriting is familiar, but not because he’s gotten letters from John before. It’s familiar because John never did meet a chalkboard he wouldn’t write something on. Usually his own name, but often Gale’s, too, and games of hangman with ridiculous answers no one ever guessed, and words of the day with incorrect definitions and too many exclamation points. Gale got used to wiping chalk dust off John’s lapels before every inspection, when John was too hungover to notice the forest for the trees.

So to see that handwriting here in blue ink, scrawled across white paper neatly folded and creased into thirds, is a bit unusual. Not unwelcome, but it makes Gale feel like he should apologize to Marge and her friend for preemptively saying John isn’t the type to write letters. Evidently he will, at least if they’re to Gale. It’s been three weeks since John shipped off to England to risk his neck without Gale there to ensure his head stays where it’s supposed to. Gale hasn’t been keeping track of the days, except for when he has.

Dear Buck it starts, because not even here will John use any name that he didn’t given Gale himself, and Gale has given up on trying to change that. These days, it simply feels weird if someone says “Gale” rather than “Buck.” He’s not sure that’s a good thing.

Dear Buck,

This will be short and sweet because the war waits for no one etc. etc. and I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and it’d be a waste of my precious beauty sleep to explain why I’m writing this letter so I’m not going to explain. You remember that weird little antique shop we found when we had the day pass a few months back, with the leg lamp in the window and that curio cabinet full of rocks you spent too much time looking at? You bought Marge that shiny chicken figurine because you said its face reminded you of my face. (I still don’t know why you gave it to Marge. She ever say anything about that? Meant to ask and forgot.)

I need you to do me a favor. If you tell the owner you’re there for me, he’ll give you the thing I ordered. Whatever you do, do not open the box. You don’t want to know what’s in there. There was an…incident, so I need you to bring that box to Greenland and give it to the sergeant who runs the bar on the base. He’ll know what it’s about if you say it’s from me.

It’s cold and windy and not really green here. Do you know who named it Greenland? I’d like a word with them.

Fly fast and take chances!

Bucky

It’s with something reminiscent of whiplash that Gale lets the letter drop to the table. He has a million questions, but then, that’s his modus operandi as John’s friend. He finishes his breakfast and his coffee, then rereads the letter to see if it makes more sense. It doesn’t, not really, but he already knows he’ll be heeding John’s request. He can only finagle a half-day pass, but it’s long enough for Gale to bike into town and collect the box, neatly taped shut. Something thuds about when he shakes it by his ear, but he dutifully doesn’t open it.

Then he sits down at the little desk in the room he used to share with John and pens a letter. He’s not sure if it’ll make it to England before Gale does, but stranger things have happened. (After all, he and John are friends.)

Dear Bucky is how he starts it, because Dear John letters are something of a bad omen in the army, even if they’ve yet to spread beyond its borders. Gale’s hardly a dame breaking up with her soldier, but it feels weird to even entertain the notion of writing Dear John, so he doesn’t.

Dear Bucky,

I had no idea you knew how to hold a pen, let alone put it to paper! Will wonders never cease? I’ve already apologized to Marge for telling her you’re not the letter-writing type. She thinks maybe I’m just special.

Anyway, I picked up your box and, as requested, did not open it. Hopefully there’s nothing alive in it, but given nothing made a noise when I shook it around, I’ll trust it’s not some poor cat you’ve decided needs to be rehomed to Greenland.

On the topic of Greenland, I looked up who named it for you: According to the Icelandic sagas, Erik the Red, a Viking who was exiled to Iceland for murder, named it Greenland because he hoped it would attract settlers. It must have worked, considering people are there now. I’ll take your word for it not being green.

I’m not sure if this letter will find you before I do, but if I’m about to be part of a new chapter of the Icelandic sagas, I want it known I do not approve of murder.

Hugs and kisses,

Buck

you can read the rest here on ao3!

#masters of the air #mota #clegan #buck x bucky #buckbucky #clegan fic #mota fic #john egan #bucky egan #gale cleven #buck cleven #my writing #mota fanfic

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://x.com/birgitmarie3/status/1791960991405613403?s=46

I know at lot of Wales fans like to blame H&M for the rumors about William often saying it was Dan Wotton or Giles Coren who started the rumor. But it was Richard Eden who started it. Giles Coren who admitted he was joking even says he joked about it in the first place because he’s already heard people talking about it. It’s likely true that he does not know anything and was completely joking in his tweet, but he did not invent it out of the blue. Eden is also a society writer and he often writes about the Cholmondoleys. Even last year I saw he write about their summer trip or whatever. I’m starting to think Eden’s source was the Norfolk crowd or someone close to Rose. Correct me if I’m wrong but H&M don’t leak to Eden, do they? I’m not saying the cheating rumors are true, but maybe H&M are completely innocent here. Could it also be possible it’s Charles/Camilla? Is Eden a Camilla mouthpiece by any chance? I’m not sure.

I don't mean to be snarky but...

you're telling me that out of all the royal reporters that descended on Norfolk after the Turnip Toffs article - all the Dan Wootens, all the Katie Nicholls, all the Becky Englishes, all the Dickie Arbiters, all the Richard Palmers, all the Chris Ships, all the Omid Scobies - not a single one found any sources or leads to back up Richard Eden's story and you still think Eden's story is true?

All those people crawling all over the Norfolk countryside talking to everyone and anyone, turning over every stone and peeking in every dark corner, and no one saw what Richard Eden saw and you think Richard Eden had a legit story?

Because surely if there was an affair, whether physical or emotional, or even the roots of one that Kate nipped in the bud, more than one reporter dug something up. But no one did. The reporters even complained about how holing up in Norfolk was a waste of time.

You do you, anon, but this doesn't make any sense to me.

[sapphic-agent]

Thank you for the invitation! I've read your posts on Bakuguo's relationship with Izuku, and I agree with almost all of them, but this most recent post is the first time I saw you suggest that it's not just a mistake in writing on the creator's part but *deliberate* writing on the creator's part (forgive me if you've written about the subject before). The only way I could appreciate Izuku's relationship with Bakuguo was as an unfortunate side effect of Izuku's immature ideas of what it means to be a hero, and that as he experienced more of the world and grew into being his own hero, that he would eventually reject this need to tolerate Bakuguo's ... Bakuguo-ness. I also was informed that Bakuguo's behavior is a trope of manga characterization that the audience would expect from this type of writing, so I should just accept it.

But now, from what you've written, this might not be true. I've always suspected that some creators would have preferred to write about characters who couldn't actually carry a story *without* changing, but they didn't want them to change. (For example, Sukuna in Jujutsu Kansen is obviously the creator's favorite, but a story about Sukuna would require change, and the creator likes that monster just the way he is.). Are there clues that Izuku's creator is just using Izuku as a "Caretaker" character to enable the characters he does like to behave terribly and get away with it? (I hope this makes sense.)

I suppose the answer to this relies on how we look at "deliberate."

Do I think Horikoshi is intentionally undercutting Izuku's character to make Bakugou seem better? No. I don't think he has the foresight, skill, or self-awareness to even go about writing like that. I'm sure in his mind he thinks that by giving Bakugou more spotlight, he's making Izuku better written by extension.

And a lot of that has to do with the fandom. Horikoshi is an author whose decisions are very driven by popular opinion, it's why so many of his storylines and characters are all over the place. For example, almost as soon as Bakugou began to become popular (around the Sports Festival), Horikoshi started to give him more exposure. If you pay attention, you'll even notice how characters like Iida and Uraraka begin to fade into the background. This is even supported by the two of them not being very popular (especially Iida) in comparison.

And obviously, BakuDeku is very popular, the most popular ship in the fandom. Horikoshi would never make it canon, but that isn't to say he won't milk that fact for all its worth. By pushing Izuku and Bakugou together, he's feeding into that. Every time they so much as share a panel about it, BakuDeku shippers go crazy here and on Twitter. It keeps attention on MHA, and keeps revenue up.

Horikoshi knows that a large majority of the fandom will consistently read anything he releases as long as he keeps Bakugou and Izuku connected. Both Bakugou and BakuDeku as a relationship are essentially a cash cow that he can exploit.

But for Bakugou to actually improve and become a better person and for Izuku to come into his own as a hero, they need to be separated. They are both detrimental to one another's development, which is why Bakugou's character development sucks and Izuku's character seems so stagnant. They should have had to grow and learn away from each other before reconciliation was ever even thought about.

Does Horikoshi know this? Probably not. I don't think he even has the capacity to think this way. But it doesn't change the fact that he will gladly shove Izuku- and everyone else- to the side if it means Bakugou's stans keep reading

#anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakudeku #izuku deserves better #mha critical #bnha critical #horikoshi critical #ask

[nevarroes]

I love your art. I find it interesting that you chose to draw this very specific feeding kink and get super indulged in it - with the willingness to lose a lot of people who might turn away from the art (as you started very differently). Was this always your *main* goal (to draw fetish art) or did it just develop with your OCs over time? There are a lot of very successful fetish artists so it really is all about audience, do you plan to approach this more, or do you think you will ever go back to be more "mainstream"?

First of all thank you!💜 and I mean hmm.... the thing with this question is I do not consider myself a fetish artist in that way anyways because I am uninterested in drawing this kink in a way that'd be generally applied, if that makes sense. Like I have no interest (and also didn't really have much of it before since it fit no character that I was writing) to draw any other character in such a dynamic or just to draw the kink, so it feels disingenuine to say that. I'd say I'm just drawing whatever I'm interested in oc- and dynamic-wise without really caring about who it may drive away or attract. it's none of my concern really since I'm not a professional artist that needs to curate what I post and I just see it as not attempting to separate any of my interests

So.... with that being said, no It was never my goal since I still don't think that's a thing I "achieved" or anything. however the thing that do I wanna point out is that back then I had a lot of personal issues with art. As in... even if I did a lot of OC stories that touched on kinks and other stuff in private I'd never post anything that is less than polished/rendered when it came to art, which made it seem like I'm only an illustrator or character portrait artist while nowadays I'm finally comfortable drawing simpler stuff as well as dynamics/interactions so I do think I'm where I wanna be in that regard. Again though I really do not care about who or what exactly my audience is, I don't intend or ever did try to actively build an audience. I appreciate everyone that sticks around right now and enjoys my content and I enjoy every interaction a lot, but I'm not trying to make a name in any specific niche or something like that, I'm quite literally just sharing my art and stories for fun and if that at the time aligns with fetish content to the extent that I would be seen as a fetish artist then I suppose it does, same as with mainsteam-y art, it doesn't really concern me🙏

#blakemail #if u would ask me what I would like to be known for if I had to choose I suppose it would just be character interactions and relationships #like i dont personally care what I‘m seen as much. some people are here because they think I‘m good on a technical level some for the kink #or everything in between #but if u asked me what my preferred thing is I suppose its that🙂‍↕️ #btw i am not putting myself over a pure kink artist with this at all however i just dont think it applies #its the same reason as why I don‘t ever draw Gortash by himself #if you see what im getting at #its not about the kink #gortcas IS indulgent im not denying that but everything else I draw about their dynamic is similarily indulging to me

[teagrammy]

Thoughts on the Eloise and Penelope situation and the trailer for Season 3: Part 2

I’m so dreading how the fanbase is going to vilify Eloise in part two of this season. Penelope has clearly been attempting to turn over a new leaf in her pamphlet (being more complimentary of the girls, putting herself on the social chopping block, etc), which is a good thing! She’s also starting to realize that vent writing isn’t the best solution, as when she immediately regretted what she wrote about Colin. However, some people are acting as if this absolves her of everything which… honey no.

Every time she has made a semblance of an apology to Eloise, there has always been an addendum. An “I’m sorry but…” move. Eloise has kept her secret, despite facing social ruin and isolation from everyone except for Cressida. When someone accidentally overheard Eloise and spread the word about Penelope’s lessons, Eloise apologized immediately and made no excuses for herself. And that was an accident! Penelope wrote what she wrote about Eloise intentionally, and as much as she likes to claim it was for her sake, everyone in the room knows it was to save her own skin.

I want to root for Penelope so badly, and I am a firm believer in people being allowed to change and move on from their mistakes. I think it’s clear she started with the intention of making her own way in case she became a spinster, the whole thing got out of hand because she was a literal teenager, and she started to buy into her own hype. She really seems to regret that, and it’s sympathetic. It’s just that I think to move on from those mistakes, she needs to have some sort of actual reconciliation with the people she’s hurt and to enter her relationship with Colin with a sense of honesty. I can’t blame Eloise at all for telling her to fess up before she does it for her.

#bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton spoilers #marshy watches bridgerton #penelope featherington #eloise bridgerton #i don’t hate penelope #and i’m not ride or die for eloise (though she’s grown on me) #i just think there’s a lot that’s gotta be unpacked in part 2

[pumpkin-parade]

I love TMA and TMAGP’s writing. I do. The parts of this episode with Gwen and Lena, as well as with the rest of the gang, were just as well written as any other part of it. But to be honest this was probably the worst-written statement/incident report in either podcast. The concept is great, and it’s not a reflection on Newall’s writing skills because it just comes from one trap, and a very easy trap to fall into - that is to say the godawful use of slang. I imagine it’s like someone versed in Shakespeare listening to someone try to speak Shakespearean English but having no idea how any of the conventions actually work so just throwing thys and thous everywhere. Slang does not work like that - the problem is, they replaced every single word with its “gen z slang” equivalent. This makes the monologue seem unnatural; in addition to this people don’t use EVERY slang term present at one time period. By having her do so it seemed more like bad parody.

Look, one fluke isn’t a reflection on an incredible podcast. The writing for everything else was amazing. It can just totally scupper a character’s speech when you overuse something like slang because by making them into a stereotype they lose what is so masterfully executed in every other character - the sense that they are a real person.

#tmagp spoilers #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tma #tmagp vague

[gotham-daydreams]

Hi! I love your gothan platonic batfam series, but every time I read it I can't help but wonder what Duke's reaction to all this would be. He's one of my fave batfam characters, do you have any plans to add him in later chapters?

Just curious, no pressure. Hopefully I didn't come off as pushy. (sorry if i did)

Have a good day! <3

Hello! And you didn't come off as pushy, no worries :]

I'll be honest and admit that I have thought of adding Duke to the series- but if I was going to do that in a more organic manner, and just generally in a way that makes sense- that would've been in Chapter 2 or 3. Though trust me I am still debating... and the only reason I'm hesitating is because I don't think I'd be able to capture his personality, or really just him as a person very well.

Granted, I do inherently view yandere versions of characters as OOC for... various reasons (some of which are obvious, especially when it comes to the Batfam and DC characters in general), but I do try to keep very close to the character (or my general understanding and interpretation of them for things like DC, who have multiple canons and such) and write them in a way that does still compliment or adhere to parts of their personality or overall mindset... if only generally. Like Bruce and his closeness to those around them yet the distance he so desperately tries to keep - not for himself, but rather those around him. His strive for justice and to do good to make up for a sin, a fault that isn't his to forgive or one he hardly had anything to do with and so on. How that makes him inherently protective if only at a distance and in silence. How he tries to keep himself away from others, if only to protect them, and yet finds himself surrounded anyway. Etcetera etcetera.

Case and point- I don't have a really good graps of Duke's general character and aren't confident enough to write him into the Not Series at the moment- and by the time I do, it may feel shoehorned in and just not as great as it could be (even if a line I wrote in Chapter 1 was meant to be him..). Though I am learning more about him! And if anyone would like to share what they know and their interpretations of his character they have and such while I still have asks open, I'd love to read and see them :]

In future series', oneshots, and just general things I plan to post and share on this blog, Duke will very much make an appearance and we'll reach 10 yanderes for the Batfam instead of just 9. (Some series' which will definitely be longer than the Not Series.)

On that note, I have thought of how Duke would feel (and some others earlier on have asked a bit as well), and from the little I know of him, this is how I think at the moment he would generally react/feel (though it may be inaccurate and such because of what I mentioned previously 😅):

I think he would start out as one of the many others that actually live in the manor or just so happened to be there at the time — and that being he feels guilt first (unlike the only person in that house who doesn't/didn't) and just... wouldn't know what to do. The time passed and everything the reader has done sort of leaves him stumped, and just stuck processing until everyone's rushing out and around to find you and before he knows it- he's following out with them to do the exact same thing.

I think he leaves before everyone else, and considering that he does daytime patrol, it isn't as odd to see him out and about anyway. Though the frantic-ness of his movements and actions are weird, and for once, more outwardly, Duke panics.

He feels bad, of course he does, and more similarly to Cass- he can only wish that he could do things with out. That he wants to be in the room when you got your awards or had been there through the hardships he knows you undoubtedly faced without even having to see the medkit like Bruce does in Chapter 2. So he goes out to look for you, but not so much for your safety and more so to just... apologize. To say every little thing he can in hopes to make things better, to lessen the damage.

And of course, just to see you.

More than anything Duke wants to make it up to you right away, but has half a mind to know he'll have to take things slow. He's still sensible to some degree, if not only partially of half-insane just like the rest of the fam (minus a certain blonde and red head who are only a sliver of the way there), he knows it'll take time, that you probably won't forgive him right away. But that's okay! He can live with that, he understands that, but he just needs to see you. Just once- if only to see who you are now and the person you've become. If only to say an apology that might fall too flat or feel too empty considering the little he knows about you.

Just once. No matter how awkward it is or how much he regrets it later. Just once.

Though, despite that he is divided on bringing you home. It would be nice, sure, but by the time that discussion comes up he isn't sure that's the best idea. Even less so with how those that do want you home seem to want to go about it, and just generally the kind of people they are. Impulsive. Strong. Threatening- they'll scare you and do more damage then help ease tensions, and he doesn't want that to happen. You don't deserve that- even if he barely knows you. Duke can feel it, you don't. Even then, they help people out, not hurt them, not like they did with you.

Duke wants to spend time with you, but he's willing to do that outside of the manor if it means making you more comfortable and warm up to him a little more. As long as he sees you he can't complain...

So when Dick messes up, he's upset. Like everyone else besides Cassandra he doesn't know what happened but knows that something absolutely went wrong. Dick usually wasn't so obvious about things like that either, but with how hurt and just... broken he looks, they could all tell. Duke could tell.

Granted, he's not upset enough to change his mind, and if anything it definitely makes him more adamant about not bringing you home yet, but he can’t find it in himself to be fully against the idea, even then.

The one thing he wants to do after that, if anything, is more determined to make things right.

If Dick of all people couldn't make it up to you, then hell, maybe Duke can.

#talking daydreams #not series #platonic yandere batfam #yandere duke thomas #yandere batfam #yandere dc

[heyftinally]

Swift is a Quanity Artist not a Quality Artist. She has high sales because of the Quanity of her albums not because of the Quality. Her fans are not ready for that conversation.

She has one song!! doing 2Billion streams on Spotify and she got that just recently. For a modern Artist who is active, it's a pathetic achievement. Abel's highest is 4Billion and there are other artists who got songs with higher streams.

Her fans constant comparsions with MJ make no sense, their output is completely different. Mj became a high selling artist with a relative small discography but big albums. Taylor Swifts output - when it comes to releasing albums- is more similar to Elvis or you would say (Prince) and I'm only talking about sales not talent ofc.

Her behaviour with her fame on top of that is completely different aswell. MJ was careful of not being overexposed during the heyday of the Thriller era. Apparently he even demanded only to be shown a few seconds during the Pepsi commercial in 84'. Barely gave any interviews, no tour ( Thriller), the album just sold on hid own. While Taylor Swift unintentionally or not, forces herself down on people. Her art itself cannot survive on it's own if she didn't do that heavy promo. The heavy Promotion also on Tiktok where, when you even watched a random video; her face would pop out in a small circle. This one of the worst thing she could have done to annoy the gp even more.

Many people who were once neutral about probably began to hate her, simply because of that. It's annoying. And it's also quite pathetic to have your new album play in over 800 radio stations! I mean, how insecure are you about your own art? Good music does not need that heavy Promotion.

It's the ignoring Celine Dion at the Grammys, annoucing an album at the Grammys. It is evident that they tried to make this moment a Taylor Swift moment in history of the Grammys, similar to MJ's back then. But it just ended up being embarrassing and awkward. Her putting her Grammy on boygenius' head. I couldn't even watch this, due to the second-hand embarrassment. She carefully forces everywhere to be always in the center of attention. And she does make it in a way where it seems like it is not her fault, so people getting mad shouldn't be blaming her. But that she supposedly has no say how her public persona is perceived is just laughable. She may cannot control the paparazzis and some articles they write. But she knows how to get attention.

And then this:

https://x.com/PopBase/status/1791100169347375609

Her fans are mad at this because it is a Coleen Hoover book and they feel that Swift deserves better than this. I quite honestly don't understand what they mean with better. But for my understanding Taylor owns her songs post Reputation, right? So she had to give her ok using one of her songs in this Film.

I also, unpopular opinion as an already huge artist find it cringe to have a song as a movie soundtrack. Like you are already popular enough. Give it a rest sometime.

She oversaturates the market just to always be on everyone's radar in the most obnoxious way. It's not just that her music is on 800 stations, it's that on any one station they'll play four of her songs for every one of anyone else! When I can hear the SAME Taylor Swift song 4+ times in >4 hours, that's excessive.

But she truly doesn't care, as long as she's the center of attention at all times to feed her ego. Just like when she snubbed Celine Deon. But she paints every and any criticism as an attack/"misogyny" (she wouldn't know the definition if it slapped her smug smirk off her face), and just further feeds her victim complex.

And, for the record, she does control the paparazzi, in a way. There's been reports of her staging outings with friends and having her team call the paps to get shots of her and her entourage. With Taylor always in the middle like Regina George, interestingly.

That said, Taylor doesn't deserve anything "better" than a Colleen Hoover movie adaptation oh please no someone say sike. Taylor can't write good music - might as well pair it with a trash book lol.

Depending on the artist, I think including them in a movie soundtrack can work. Bowling For Soup was in a fair amount of Phineas & Ferb. Hilary Duff had a thriving music career when she was in The Lizzie McGuire Movie and A Cinderella Story, and her music was in both. Same for Selina Gomez in Another Cinderella Story, and Aly Michalka in Phil of the Future on Disney Channel. In all of the above cases the singers had established careers in music, but their music still added something to the media they were in.

Now, that said, I don't think Taylor Swift's music will do the same. I already saw that back in Valentines Day, and her song "Today Was A Fairytale" felt excessively cheesy, childish, and almost Disney-ish for what was supposed to be an older teen/adult movie. And given how stagnant her "growth" as an artist has been since then, I can't see her current music having much benefit for *any* movie.

And yes, she has final say in what movies get her songs at this point, so she signed off on this somewhere. So if/when she cries and/or bitches and bashes the movie for whatever petty reason she decides to fabricate, I want everyone to remember that 1) I called it 2) she HAD to have given permission for her music to be included. *I* have to pay royalties just to use music for a group of 8 year olds to compete at a dance competition - Taylor Swift was ABSOLUTELY compensated after signing an agreement somewhere.

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift critical #ask #anon

[love2dre4m]

secret gardens in my mind

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: When he was a child, Benedict Bridgerton has a place in his mind which he spends most of his time to escape the hard truth of reality. At the age of twenty eight, he somehow made his way back into that so-called imaginary place and met someone who might be just what he needed at the moment—a company.

Warnings: benedict thinking he's bonkers, alice in wonderland type of story.

A/N: HEAVILY inspired by taylor swift's newest song i hate it here. Also please PLEASEEE EXCUSE ANY GRAMMAR ERROR, english isn't my first language. i'm writing simply just because i enjoy it and i love to watch my ideas become a real writing. This will become a series (hopefully) Let me know if you'd like to see more!! Buy Me a Coffee!!

Almost every child believes in the existence of a place of some kind. It could be a big palace, a world filled with dragons, a school of wizards with pointy hats, or a talking lion. It's a normal phase for children. Once they grow a little older, they'd forget about it in a blink.

That is not the case for Benedict Bridgerton.

There's a place in the back of his mind. A secret garden, if you will. This garden has a maze that would lead him into another place of fantasy. A meadow, filled with wildflowers scattered all over the ground and grass that tickles his bare feet. All across the meadow, stood a cottage with a stone wall fence covered in roots and ivy as if it were guarding something beautiful inside. Whenever Benedict was there it always seems like the sun never fails to make a halo around the cottage, making it holy and divine. From the very first moment he stepped foot into the meadow, he knew where to go whenever he needed an escape.

Of course Benedict visited the meadow quite often when he was a child, but somehow at the ripe age of twenty eight some memories of his daydreaming visits were still fresh in his mind as if it was yesterday.

He once visited the meadow when his brother beat him at fencing for the first time. He had run barefoot to the meadow, that's the way he liked it. When the grass meets his toes and the fresh air kisses his skin, it always feels like he can breathe properly again. He laid on his back and stared directly at the sun that day, convincing himself that he's worth something over and over under his breath until something caught his attention.

There were voices coming out of the cottage. By then Benedict was already on his feet, slowly approaching towards the cottage while trying to make the littlest noise possible. It was an adult— presumably his mother's age, she seemed to be talking to someone inside the cottage.

It's not a haunted house all along, Benedict thought.

He attempts to make another step closer, but his barefoot stepped on something sharp and caused him to let out an audible wince. His hand immediately closes over the bloody cut on his foot with a curse under his breath and before he knows it the adult on the porch senses his presence.

Only god knows whatever happened next because Benedict never remembered. His mind could only go as far as the time his foot got hurt, he doesn't even remember how he got back home. He never does. That seems to be the pattern of this imaginary place of his.

It felt like a fever dream—Benedict convinced himself that it was, but the scar on the sole of his foot tells a different story.

Last time he visited the meadow was when his father died. That day, every piece of his soul crumbled and he believed then that he'd never recover from this grief. So he ran, barefoot on the ground as the air from his lungs felt like it was being taken from him. He didn't care how the rocks were grazing his feet back then, all he could think of was to run. Just to get a taste of sweet fresh air that doesn't remind him of what had just happened in reality.

When Benedict finally stumbled into the garden gate that seals utopia from reality, he spent no time sprinting into that so-called paradise. Every time he's here, it feels like the air never changes. It's still the same sweet air that kisses his skin with such tenderness one could receive. The grass and wild flowers seem to never lose its colour, it was as if time cannot touch this place at all. But this time when his feet meet the grass, he broke down and let his guard down while cursing out to the gods.

How is he supposed to go on with his life now that his father's gone? Who is he supposed to talk to now? Oh how he regrets not telling him he loves him this morning. He wishes he could turn back time and spend his life on asking questions he never got to ask.

But for now all he could do was let his back settle on the grass and stared directly at the sun. His mind screams at some great being in the sky to give him a sign—anything to prove that maybe life is worth living.

Suddenly, his vision goes dark.

The sign, he hoped.

“Are you not stung from the sun? It is terribly bright and hot at this hour.” said someone. Benedict couldn't make out their face due to the sun backlighting his vision but Benedict's sure the voice came from a girl. He tried to blink away the dark patches from his vision, but when he opened his eyes all he saw was the ceiling of his bedroom.

That’s always the cycle.

Benedict wandered to the meadow to escape and had his little taste of heaven, then someone from the meadow noticed his presence and then he's back to reality at Aubrey Hall. He doesn't know who or what settles in that damn cottage, he's always wondered what he would actually find if he were ever to enter it. A part of him wishes it's a miracle being that could take away all his worries, or a genie who could grant him wishes—or maybe just someone who can be Benedict's company.

It's fascinating how one's mind could make such pictures and stories just to escape reality. Benedict always wondered if he would ever get to taste that bit of heaven one day—if it actually existed.

Nowadays he rarely ever goes to the meadow after finding the fun in parties. Though some nights in his dream, his feet would feel those grass in the meadow and he'd inhale the sweet fresh air again. In some, he'd be sketching by the lake nearby the meadow, and in others, he'd see the face of a beautiful woman.

The most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Somehow, he has these vivid memories of her in that same meadow that's crafted by Benedict's mind. Somehow he knew the sweet crinkle of her eyes and smile lines when she smiled, the sweet sound of her laugh, and the grace she carried within herself wherever she went.

Without even knowing it, Benedict had fetched his sketchbook and charcoal and had started drawing the woman in his mind.

Hell, he's gone mad, hasn't he?

He ridiculed himself for getting too lost in his head—sure, an artist's imagination knows no limit but this? Dreaming of a woman who doesn't exist? That's way off the rails! He's definitely going insane.

Benedict shut his sketchbook and threw the charcoal into the trash. He wiped off his dark fingertips onto his pants—it won't do anything except just smear the charcoal even more, he knew that, but it's become a habit of his after years of sketching.

What was he doing with charcoal and a sketch book anyway? After all, he's not even good enough to make his place in the art academy without Anthony sticking his neck out. Might as well to just stop trying.

He left his room and somehow his feet guided him to the back garden, to his surprise he didn't find Eloise with a cigarette in her hand there. The swings were empty with cold air dancing around it as if inviting Benedict to come and sit on one of them.

In times like these, he wishes he could visit the meadow just like when he was a child. Whenever he was there, life felt a little bit easier. If only it were that easy.

He still doesn't know whether the place's actually real or it was all just a piece of Benedict's imagination, but he'd love to go back there once more. He misses how the grass feels under his toes, he misses the feeling he got when he inhaled that fresh air, but he especially misses how every world's burden seems to fade away within a blink in that paradise.

Benedict sighed deeply as he plops down onto the swing, he closed his eyes and rested his head on the rope beside him. His mind couldn't seem to be silent these days, and he doesn't have an escape anymore. Whenever his mind races, he used to pick up a charcoal and his sketchbook and everything would eventually be fine but now he couldn't even hold the pencil in his hand without crowding his mind even more.

His heart raced as he jumped up, a rustling sound snapped him of his thoughts. “Eloise?” He called out. Eloise would be the only person who'd go into the garden at this hour, he assumed. “Anyone there?” He called once again.

Instead of a real reply, Benedict got a meow as a response. A black cat seemed to have wandered into the Bridgerton's garden. It keeps meowing as if it's calling for its owner.

“Hello.” he cooed, “Where are you from?” He held out his finger for the cat to sniff it and before he knew it, the creature’s already rubbing its cheek on Benedict’s finger. “Let's get you some food inside, yeah?”

When Benedict picked the cat into his arms and tried to bring it inside, it kept meowing loudly, calling for its owner, then out of the sudden, it flew out of his hold. Down on the ground of the garden, the creature looked up directly at Benedict, staring at his very soul.

It casually licks its thick fur before meowing at Benedict as if it's signalling him to do something before turning around and walking away, disappearing into the bushes. Benedict just stood there, confused and frozen on his foot.

After a moment the creature revealed itself out of the bushes and meowed at Benedict once more, demanding him to follow it.

“Yes! Right away!” Benedict responded in an instant. He doesn't know why he let this silly creature guide him outside of the garden: Was it curiosity? Or perhaps this is just another desperate way of Benedict's mind to escape the bitter taste of his reality?

Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore because somehow this cat had led him into this familiar garden that somehow he had seen before—he just couldn't quite remember when. This ticked his curiosity even more and so he rushed after the cat further into the garden.

And just like that, Benedict was standing before an entrance of a maze. A very familiar maze. He's been here before, in this very spot in front of the maze, but when? His feet stepped into the maze and led him further into it without any doubt as if it knew the ways to the end of the maze.

When he got to the end of the maze, the sun had started to come up and suddenly the air changed and memories so vivid came rushing back into his mind about this exact place.

The meadow.

How could he forget about this place? The place of his ephemeral escape from reality. When the air kissed his bare skin, life became a little bit bearable. The air is exactly the same as the last time he was here, it makes Benedict want to run all away around the meadow like he did as a kid when life wasn't too overwhelming.

His eyes roamed around the meadow. The grass and flowers are just like the way he remembered. The cottage across the meadow was also still standing behind the stone wall fence. Time really didn't touch this place at all.

A meow from the ground snapped him out of his thoughts. He'd almost forgotten about the cat who had led him here.

“How did you know about this place?” Benedict asked the cat, “Is this where you came from?”

The cat only meows as a response, so he scooped it up into his arms and started walking towards the cottage.

“Let's get you back home, yeah?”

The cottage seemed to never age, there's still a stone wall fence guarding the small house. It seems so weird stepping past it, Benedict has never been able to go this far into the cottage when he was a child. Something would always prevent him from exploring it even more—now that thought has crossed his mind, would something come out and prevent him from going near the cottage and sending him back home?

Right when Benedict arrived at the last step of the porch, the wooden door before him shut open, revealing a beautiful woman with an empty basket in her hand.

“Benedict?”

“Miss,” he slightly bowed his head with a smile before his eyes widened, realising that the stranger in front of him knew his name. “Wait, how did you know my name?”

“Why do you have my cat?” The woman asked casually, obviously ignoring Benedict's question.

Benedict looked down at the cat that was now fast asleep in his arms and gave the woman before him a sheepish smile. “I found her wandering about my garden just then—well, last night because the sun has completely risen now.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, she's asleep—how on earth did you know my name?!”

“I don't,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Benedict was sure that his name had just come out of her lips.

“But you had just said it a moment ago!”

“No need to shout! You'll wake her!” she replied and stepped aside from the door to make room for Benedict and gestured for him to enter. He wasted no time to enter the cottage that has been such a mystery for almost all his life.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #fanfic readers #luke thompson #luke thompson x reader #i hate it here #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd #secret garden

[jellyfish-and-therapy]

Day 8 - Now let’s give their familiar the spotlight!

Meet Ozzy and the gang!

Ozzymandys is essentially a tressym (a flying cat from DnD). Fran rescued him from a local shady labaratory - they were young and extremely sensitive to injustice (still are), and it was a bad place. They hid Ozzy in the attic, nurtured him back to health, took him out on walks at night and smuggled him to Vesuvia later on.

Because Fran has an ability to understand all languages, they also understood their kitty from day one. And so for a long time they thought their bond with Ozzy was one of a magician and a familiar. And there weren't much evidence to the contrary.

Some years after, settled in their home in Vesuvia, Fran's got a little menagerie: lizards, frogs, turtles and tortoises. Most of them were rescues, some were left on his porch, some found, etc. But there was one creature that found him instead - a young chameleon that was later named Juno.

And this one turned out to be his true familiar. It doesn't negate his bond with Ozzy and the gang, but this one has more connections with the Arcana itself.

(I have plans to develop this plot twist a bit further, so there will be more info on the pets in the future!)

#every time I write this it's like “does it make sense?” #“is it too outlandish? too mary-sue like?” #but ultimately this is my sandbox so here it goes #the arcana #the arcana game #arcana oc #arcana apprentice #apprenticember #oc: franquelin #familiars #Ozzy and the gang #Juno the chameleon