#this is just a funny personal anecdote that’s all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

britneyshakespeare · 1 year

Text

it is weird being an aromantic asexual who is incidentally attractive. like. i just came back from a concert with my friends who have known me for years and know that about me. some of the very few real-life friends who know that about me actually and i only told them relatively recently. regardless. the only reason i had bothered to bring it up w them is that they had seen me in SO many situations that telling them “i’m asexual” was if anything just clarification. just confirmation, like, don’t worry. it’s not an inability to attach to others or whatever. if you can’t tell. like they’d seen me be pursued by quite a few people in our time as friends and at some point it seems like a curious thing if i only ever seem to feel negatively about anyone who’s attracted to me, ever, no matter who it is. and they were understanding and i knew they’d be. yeah.

we were talking on the way back about bucket list concerts we’d still like to see. we saw stromae which was a really big one of mine (my fucking boy btw, i had an amazing time). i mentioned that i don’t have very many, as i’m rarely the person to be like “yeah, let’s go to a concert” unless i have people i know i wanna go with. like i’ve been meaning to see the jonas brothers w my sister and sisters-in-law ever since they came back because it’d be a fun thing for us since we always listen to them together.

but i would genuinely love to see super junior someday, like just for myself, wherever whenever if i was just able to get transportation (i don’t drive). i’ve loved suju for years but i got really back into them in 2020 in the pandemic as a sort of nostalgia comfort thing (but also the music they’ve put out in recent years is like, literally the best in their discography, they just keep getting better w age). and i had to go on this tangent to explain it, right?

in the first months of the pandemic, there was something weird happening to people psychologically. some kind of end-of-the-world loneliness. i mentioned that i had like 5 or 6 different people in my DMs at the time interested in me. not all of them men. and the friend who was driving said “you know, diana, if this were literally anyone else talking, i would think that this is some enormous humblebrag—”

and i like. didn’t even think about it that way. i was just trying to make my point that i had a serious thought in 2020 of like, when the world opened back up, just doing one (1) seriously manipulative thing in my life and convince one of those men who was thirsting for me to buy me tickets to super junior and go with me. it was hypothetical. this hasn’t happened and all but certainly will not. i would not feel good taking advantage of someone’s feelings like that.

but i had to go on a tangent even before that because i was like. oh my goodness. i didn’t even realize that was a humblebrag. i’m sorry. i’m just telling a story.

#the politics of being a pretty young woman #tales from diana #i also wouldn't have felt comfortable telling anyone that anecdote about myself if they had known less about me than my friends i was with #so i guess i wouldn't be in danger of humblebragging. but sometimes i think i do? by mistake.#like when i talk about my social life in the past i always mention no one openly liked me in high school. not one person.#it very much affected how i saw myself. bc bullshit. young girls. male approval. y'know.#but in retrospect now i'm better able to tell when a boy had some kind of crush on me so i might mention it like 'he thought i was cute'#and one time a different friend i had. but one who i have also told im asexual (im trying to do that more) said to me #'you know for how unpopular you say you were in high school it seemed like a lot of ppl liked you'#i mean. yes? it's complicated. i was most certainly not popular i can tell you that.#i was more of a 'hey goob nice binder' 'hey goob wanna hang out at my house after school?' [narration: they all hated me...] kinda kid.#i probably kept myself from making friends wo realizing it but also lots of cliques i would've liked to be part of very much ignored me.#i was hot on the margins. a truly underrepresented social archetype... except that's literally every teen movie so maybe not.#i didn't have a big win in the final act that's the difference.#also before the concert we were talking about one of our other friends who is just. so fuckin funny.#like we were all talking about how much we love him. and they said they had been talking about who in the group chat we're in #has the most 'pull' and im like. pull?#like who could pick up the most ppl successfully. hypothetically.#both of them ranked me high :^) i was like. thank you.#they asked me to ponder on the topic myself and try to come back to it but i think im just confused by the concept of 'pull' itself #stromae has pull. that is all.

13 notes · View notes

violentdevotion · 1 month

Text

go upstairs to escape the sound of my brothers voice but he talks so loudly and the walls are so thin i can still hear him

#ameera speaks #theres a cruelty ingrained within this family and i refuse to take part in it any longer #hes a despicable person and every second i spend in the same room as him reminds me of why i stopped speaking to him #my life has only improved since i cut him out the only downside is i cant twll him to stfu when hes sharing funny anecdotes #'meera you always compare yourself to my sons' your sons are telling you stories youre laughing at and you stopped speaking to me a week ago #because i spoke during sehri #i remember my birthday was during ramadan one time and i was telling them smth i read about how men tend to be professionals in fields women #dominate and the first thing they did on my birthday during ramadan was make me cry by telling me to shut up because i was spekaing too much #and just now i listened to the same brother speak for half an hour nonstop and it was all just cruel #not a single good word out of his mouth

1 note · View note

cerastes · 4 months

Text

I can't stop thinking about Kristen, or some say, Kirsten's trap hole working on Saria, it's funny, sure, but it's deep in a sad way. It's a Zhuge Liang vs Sima Yi situation, the famous anecdote where Zhuge Liang had basically no one to defend a city against Sima Yi's sizeable army, but when he learned that it was Sima Yi that lead the army, he simply opened the doors and welcome them in. Sima Yi immediately looked at this and said Absolutely The Fuck Not, He's Got Irons On The Fires, Plans Upon Plans, and retreated. This was a bluff that would only work on Sima Yi, and only if Zhuge Liang would use it. It's such an obvious bluff, which any other general would call out, and no general in their right mind would use. But, because it was Zhuge Liang using it against Sima Yi, because of their shared story, Sima Yi got mind bamboozled into a "He knows I know, he knows I know he knows I know" bluescreen loop, because Sima Yi would never fall for such an obvious bluff, but it's Zhuge Liang using it, and Zhuge Liang KNOWS that Sima Yi would never fall for it, but then, that in itself could be a trap, but but but but but.

And so he left. He did not take his chances. It was a bluff that could only work on him, if used by exactly one person.

To me, the trap hole scene is kind of like this. Kristen knows Saria. Better than anyone else. To the point that she knew exactly where and when she'd say something, and when and how exactly she could catch her with the oldest trick in the Acme playbook. Saria. The woman who couldn't be stopped with the Kristen-designed Anti-Saria Wall, which possessed Screw Saria Particularly effects. You could hit Saria with a warhead and the warhead loses that one in all likelihood.

But Kristen doesn't need a wall or a warhead. Kristen knows Saria. Better than anyone else. She knows her so well, she can topple her with a flap on the floor.

And yeah that's hilarious and all, but also, so deeply sad, because it's basically an acknowledgement of just how much Kristen has paid attention, how well she knows her, how immensely knowledgeable Kristen is about Saria.

It's sad because Kristen does not care. She ultimately decided she doesn't value this. She knows. She observed. She lived the most beautiful moments of both of their lives together. And she decided it was worthless in the end, and that she didn't care. She saw all of this as nothing more than a weapon to make a trap door on the floor work. All of that.

This is what makes Kristen so immensely fascinating and chilling. It's not that she doesn't care in terms of ignoring the world around her. Oh, she's observing, alright, she knows exactly what and who surrounds her. She simply doesn't care even if she knows all of these things. She doesn't care. Kristen Wright simply does not care. A level well above not noticing: She knows and observes and is aware, she simply decided those things are worthless.

That is the next level of indifference. I like her so much, she is awful.

#arknights #kristen #or some say #kirsten #I am so so so fascinated by her

483 notes · View notes

scramratz · 22 days

Note

hi! im trans dude planning on starting testosterone as soon as im 18, which is less than a year now. im super freaked out at the idea of self injection.. do you have any tips or personal anecdotes about it? is it as scary as it seems? i trust your judgement 🎉

It seems a lot scarier than it actually is. I tend to work myself up due to anticipation, but it rarely ever hurts. The few times something went wrong, it was an easy fix and had no adverse effects on my health.

Few tips:

1.) Find a time out of the week when you have no time sensitive obligations to do your shot. I used to do my shot before work on Tuesdays, but I ended up being late a lot due to my needle phobia. Shoot for the weekends or even at night before bed! That way, you're not pressed for time and stressing yourself out.

2.) Put on something to distract your brain. I noticed I have an easier time doing my shot if I watch a comedy special or something funny. Laughter is a great way to dispel fear. Comfort shows work, too! I've done my shot to the Adventure Time soundtrack a bunch of times! I love punk music, but I noticed my anxiety would spike because the fast-paced music made my heart race. If that happens to you, try a more slow tempo song.

3.) Change how you think of your injection. After a while, I began to dread doing my shot more and more. I still had the same needle phobia, but the excitement of starting hormones wore off. It became another necessary chore. To keep it exciting, I changed what I called it. I was no longer giving myself a hormone shot, I was taking my "Gender Elixir". Sounds corny sure, but it worked! Sometimes pretending you're a wizard makes things better!

Those are just off the top of my head. Lmk if you have anymore questions I'm happy to answer! I might even make a comic about all of this later on!

P.S. You got this kid! You've got a whole community of trans folks on your side!

196 notes · View notes

fbfh · 9 months

Text

rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs 2

wc: 1.7k

genre: mutual pining, minor angst

pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: houseparty, madison and heather aren't very good friends, one brief mention of alcohol/underage drinking but no one is obviously drunk, Brent keeps flirting with you and can't take a hint but it's annoying and inconvenient at most, minor miscommunication, sad roddy at the end

summary: after getting all dolled up for your party (which is really just an excuse to see rodrick and his band play) you spend the whole night not getting to do the one thing you want to do - see Rodrick.

song rec: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, and I imagine them playing put your money on me - the struts, basket case - green day, and of course, diper overlode - loded diper at the party

a/n: the long awaited part 2 is here!! and yes there will be a part 3 that takes place at prom lol

tags at the bottom (tagging all the people who asked for part 2 as well lol)

You’ve spent all week planning your party

Now it’s finally friday after school, and Heather and Madison are at your place, taking on the monumental task of deciding what you’re going to wear

You decide on the new pair of heels you got as your inspiration piece

They’re baby pink and strappy, with a butterfly shape made of little diamonds on the front

You’ve been absolutely obsessed with them, and the party seems like the perfect opportunity to break them in

You dig around in your closet, pulling a few of your other pink dresses

It’s not much of a contest when you see them laid out, and you choose the light pink satin one to go with your shoes

You listen to Heather and Madison gossip while you dig through your jewelry and nail polish, finding some coordinating accessories and your next mani pedi color

“Which earrings?” You ask them, holding up two pairs.

“That one.” They say in unison, pointing to the one on your left

You were leaning toward that pair anyway, so you’re glad they agree

After finalizing some details and going over what they’re going to wear, all your party outfits are planned

Heather and Madison leave to get dressed, promising to be back within the hour so you can all help each other with hair and makeup

You’ve practically become their personal beauty guru since you became friends

You always know just what to do to make their makeup look flawless and their hair cooperate when it’s being stubborn

You’re a big ball of nerves while you get the last details set up

Snacks are laid out, drinks are set up

Now all you need is the people

And more importantly

The band

As people show up, Heather drags you around to socialize

You swear, she must make you say hi to every single person there

If you were a little more cynical, you might pick up on the fact that Heather is trying to keep you away from Rodrick

Rodrick, who you’ve been thinking about non stop since you first saw him

You spend the whole time looking around for him and his band

You think you see him across the room once, but it’s a girl with a dark brown pixie cut

It’s hard to tell in this lighting, and you’re glad you caught it before you made a really awkward mistake

You’re sure it would have been a funny anecdote that lead to you being friends after

On your way back, you get stopped by Brad

He insists on pulling you aside to talk, which Heather and Madison encourage

But right now all you want is to find Rodrick

And all Rodrick wants is to find you

They’re almost warmed up and ready for their set

And GOD he’s never been more excited for a gig

He’s so ready to go all out

To impress you

And to avoid all Justin Bieber songs to prevent another Heather’s sweet 16 incident

He fidgets with his drumsticks and looks around again

He still doesn’t see you

Which sucks, because he’s been thinking about this exact moment non stop since loded diper got this dream of a gig

He’s been making the boys practice way more than normal

Much to his parent’s dismay (even though they’re starting to sound pretty good)

To avoid another Heather Hills sweet 16 situation

But more importantly, to impress you

When Rodrick fell asleep every night this week, he had a variation of the same dream

Playing at this party, rocking the house so hard people talk about it for years afterwards, and getting to see you

You’re so beautiful, standing dead center at the front of the crowd, looking up at him the whole time

They barely finish their set when you weave your way through the band, and walk right up to him

His heart is pounding as you start praising him, telling him how good he was, how you want to be his little rockstar’s girlfriend

He usually gets so excited he wakes himself up after that

And now

It’s finally happening

His literal dreams are coming true

His band got a great gig

And he gets to play for you

This is probably the biggest opportunity since battle of the bands

The guys know how much he’s been looking forward to this

It’s all he’s been talking about

He really thinks that if everything goes perfect, he might be able to shoot his shot with you

He just has to focus

Focus on playing a perfect gig, focus on figuring out how to woo you

Once they’re all warmed up and hyped up, they start their set

You can hear the band starting to tune up from the other room, and try for what feels like the millionth time to slip away from Brent

You’ve had to turn him down more times than you can count, and he still can’t take a goddamn hint

“I really have to go check on my friends…” you trail off, finally slipping into the crowd

You manage to find Madison, who signals to Heather, and soon all three of you are hiding in the bathroom

You catch your breath for a little while, touching up your makeup while Heather checks herself out and fluffs her hair

Madison sits nearby, texting someone

After a little while, you sigh, figuring you should all get back

Heather and Madison share a look while you straighten out your necklace

Heather walks to the door with Madison right behind her

She pokes her head out of the door, then closes it quickly

“Brent is right down the hall,” she says, turning back to you as Madison nods, “we should wait in here a little longer

It feels like you wait in the bathroom forever while Heather occasionally sending Madison out to check

After a little while you hear faint music

Your stomach drops

You can’t miss the band, the whole point of throwing this party was getting to see Rodrick and loded diper play

“Did they start already?” you ask, walking toward the door

Heather grabs your arm before you can open it, telling you Brent is still right outside, and sends Madison to go check if the band started yet

Madison comes back a minute later

“They’re still warming up,” she says, sharing a look with Heather

A little while later, the music gets louder and you don’t want to risk missing their show

You leave the bathroom before Heather and Madison can stop you

You’re met with loud rock music reverberating through the house

Definitely not just warming up

You try to get to the other room where they’re playing so you don’t miss the rest of their set

Before you get very far, Brent catches your eye and cuts through the crowd

He follows you around and keeps trying to pull you aside to flirt and talk and get you to go out with him

You manage to get to the doorway of the room they’re playing when he pins you against the wall

He’s going on and on about how you’d be perfect together, you’d be lucky to get with him, everyone at school wants him

But all you can think about is how great the band sounds

They’re like a perfect blend of all the best pop punk and rock groups you’ve ever heard

Right off the bat, you pick out influences from green day, my chemical romance, and metallica

You’re really fucking impressed

You didn’t expect them to be this good, and you didn’t have low expectations to begin with

You just wish you could get away from Brent to really get to see the rest of their set before it’s over

When the song ends, you hear Rodricks voice and stretch up to try and see him as he leans into the mic

“Thank you, we are Loded Diper! Fuck authority!” he looks over at Chris, then leans back into the mic “And the patriarchy!”

Your stomach sinks as you realize you missed most of their show, but you still cheer louder than anyone else in the room

Rodrick lets out a little puff of air when Chris taps his shoulder, getting his attention

“Uh, listen man…” Chris starts, but Rodrick doesn’t hear what he says after that

He looks over to where Chris is gesturing, and his heart sinks

Brent has you pinned against the wall across the room, and you two are looking awfully cozy together

“Shit…” Rodrick says

Once again, he looks like an idiot for thinking he has a chance with you

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Ben says, signaling to Ward to help them bring their stuff back out to the van

They wrap it up and leave quickly, and Ward, Ben, and Chris try to figure out how to help their heartbroken drummer

You spend the rest of the party looking for Rodrick

You hope he stuck around, you really want to tell him how great he was

When the alcohol runs out and the party’s over, Madison and Heather sleep over, helping you clean up

Technically Heather makes Madison help you clean up

All they can talk about is prom coming up, but your mind is still on Rodrick

And how you didn’t get to see him

You wish you could have told him how amazing he was

Even if he’s not into you like you’re really, really into him

You just want him to know that you could listen to his music all day and never get tired of it

“...coordinating dates, and-” Heather says, turning to you suddenly, “you’re going to help us pick out dresses, right?”

You nod, flashing her a smile and hoping to disguise your disappointment at how the night went

“Yeah,” you answer as she goes on about finding you all dates

But you know that if you can’t go to prom with Rodrick, you won’t want to go at all

You just hope by some miracle you’ll get to dance with him, at least once

@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #doawk rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick #rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader #rodrick x girly reader #AWWWGHGHHN I HOPE ITS WORTH THE WAIT

895 notes · View notes

sassydefendorflower · 1 year

Text

In case of their death, each Bat has a dedicated spot where they keep their will/private messages to different members of their family/their friends.

It makes sense in their line of work.

Tim's is a hard drive, no surprise there, but he made sure the code to access it was just stupid enough that most of the family would have to come together to crack it (and even then, they still have to call Bart for the final clue) - it’s something stupid and sentimental, something Bruce would never have guessed Tim would choose as a password. Maybe Quadruple Summersault. Or Short Pants. Or Second Mask. Or Always Be Prepared. Or maybe just I Love You.

Babs has a lot of video messages just in case. She wrote code that would automatically send her last words to everyone she cherished (her dad, the Bats, the Birds of Prey, her co-workers at the library) should she forget to enter the I'm Still Alive Code. (she has to stay at the hospital once without her phone and accidentally sends her last words to everyone - Gotham is chaos for a day until people manage to check in on her).

Cass has already hidden all her goodbyes in the rooms of those she thinks deserve it. Once she is gone, she hopes Bruce will find the letter in her nightstand. The one that says "my words are still here, you just have to look for it" - which is a bit ironic, considering most of her letters consist of funny cartoons and nice memories captured in the chicken scratch of someone who might never be a portrait artist but can undoubtedly catch a moment in time with just a few strokes of a pencil.

Dick updates his will every couple of months, just to be safe. And his letters? His final words? Those are usually stored with a civilian friend or two. One batch is definitely kept at Titans Tower. All of these people have instructions to send them once the news of his death has hit the public. His letters are unusually long, filled with jokes and anecdotes, and a lot of things he never quite managed to say before. For someone who likes to talk, Dick is awfully good at saying nothing. But that's not how he wants to die - at least not this time, so long letters it is.

Jason doesn't have a lot of letters, or a lot of anything really. He just has a very detailed will. A binding legal paper that explains exactly what the family is supposed to do with his body. He's not gonna take any more chances with this. At the end of his will, there is only one addendum: I love you. Please let me be dead. Nothing more - nothing less.

Steph is a bit obsessed with the details of her death, maybe because her first close encounter resulted in a complete loss of agency. She wants to plan it down to the smallest bit, and since she knows she cant do that, she plans everything else. Where she wants to be buried, what songs should be played, what kind of food should be offered... and in each of these instructions there is a personal message hidden just within. She wants Bruce and Tim to carry her coffin, carry her one last time. She wants Cass to dance at her funeral, and Babs and her mom to write the speeches. Small love letters hidden in a search for control.

Damian is needlessly good at compartmentalizing, or maybe its because he's just twelve. He should think of himself as immortal, and nothing is crueler than the fact that he doesn't. He has a will, hidden underneath his mattress because he's too young to actually request legally binding documents. And he has letters and paintings and notebooks - in the hopes that when they find them they'll remember him as a boy and not a weapon. For someone so desperately striving for the title of Robin, Damian mostly wants to be remembered as a son.

For a long time Duke didn't partake in this "family tradition". Because he saw himself as outside of them, as someone with parents, as someone with a home. But a dozen close calls, and suddenly mortality becomes something else. So he saves his will on the Batcomputer, addressed to his parents but protected by Bruce. And he writes small notes. Thoughts. Ideas. Things he thinks they will appreciate should he be gone one day. And he leaves them lying around. Maybe the mark he makes is hidden in the small things. The post-it notes and exploded overhead lights. Duke would be fine with that.

And then there is Bruce, who - in a way - cannot die. His legacy is the Cave, his brain a part of the mainframe they use to fight crime. And he knows that. He knows that no matter where he goes, he will never be really gone. So he makes sure that one day - long after he has passed - the Batcomputer destroys itself. To set them free. To leave them with the physical memorabilia of Bruce Wayne, and no longer with the desperation of the Bat. It's the biggest love letter Bruce can imagine writing - the possibility of being free.

#batfamily #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #dc #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbara gordon #batman #death tw #grief #mortality #headcanon

2K notes · View notes

lowkeycasanova · 7 months

Note

hiii, just finished watching vinnie and fannita podcast, if your requests are open, could write something where his gf either in the background of that podcast or also as a guest with vinnie?

like that podcast was so funny and i want it so bad incorporated into a fic lol

thank uuuu💜

BOTTOMS UP

Lmao I love this idea. But I wrote it as bullet points. Sorry if it’s not what you expected.

*Vinnie's comments are bolded*

masterlist

——————————————————————————-

You’ve known of Fannita and her humor from her tik tok videos so you were excited to see how this played out.

As soon as Vinnie sat down in the chair, the flirty banter was on full display. Which you were well aware that was gonna happen beforehand.

The segment begins and Fannita teases him about the attention he gets from girls, being a pretty boy, and their "relationship".

You stand in the background, already laughing while watching their exchange.

"Your outfit reminds me of the movie Footloose" she told him. Fannita just be saying anything. And you love her for that.

She pokes fun at him just like you do and it's hilarious. But you also love how she asks the real questions. Doing the Lord's work.

"Why did you take a shot of that like it was vodka? That's blue gatorade." You are a victim of the sassy man apocalypse.

"Foot play, toe sucking- no." "He loves that! Why are you lying?" "No I don't!" "Why you lying?" "Bro-" "I heard through the grapevine that you looovvvee sucking toes." "What grapevine???" "The one that's...over there." she subtly points in your direction. Your eyes widen as you laugh. No way is she bringing you into this mess.

"Forehead kisses. Turn on." "Turn on." he smiles, looking up and making eye contact with you.

You love how more comfortable he became as the podcast went on.

And Vinnie is a good sport, responding with witty comebacks and sharing the playful anecdotes, all in the spirit of the show.

You don't feel any type of way about the sexual nature of the banter. Who wouldn't flirt with him when given the chance? You get to do it everyday.

"Do you curve slightly to the right or left?" She asked. He answered with a laugh, his face beet red. "You know, if you don't want to answer, there's someone else in the studio who can. And I'm sure you already know who it is." You fucking lost it. She definitely takes being a dicktective seriously. "Shut. Up." he responded with as much seriousness as he could muster. "My fault. I'll be quiet."

You meet up with Fannita afterwards and you're trying to calm down from laughing so much. She told you that she hoped nothing she said made you uncomfortable. You thanked her for that, but honestly, you knew it was all in good fun. You share the same sense of humor and you laughed the whole time. To you, it was playful teasing and her energetic/animated personality made it better. It was a genuine moment of appreciation from Fannita who praised you two as a couple.

#vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x y/n #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker fluff

712 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 8 months

Text

Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)

Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices

Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)

Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry.

For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count.

She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did.

They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something.

She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it.

Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will.

The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing.

When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.

She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone.

Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then.

The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of.

“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”

He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat.

She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile.

“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”

Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much.

She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes.

“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”

He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”

“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”

“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact.

“And how would you know?”

“I just do.”

He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough.

“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”

“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Not if you did it on purpose.”

The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.

“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”

“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”

“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”

He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”

She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself.

She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.

“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear.

She whimpered, not wanting to answer.

“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”

“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his.

A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”

He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”

“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body.

He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”

“But that’s not enough, is it?”

“To me, it is.”

“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”

She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”

She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”

“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”

If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point.

“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope.

He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.

In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”

“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”

The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”

“It feels true,” she cried.

His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”

“But–”

“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing.

She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself.

Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms.

“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”

Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said.

“How?” she asked.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.”

Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #no y/n #tw: ed #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox

457 notes · View notes

estapa-edwards · 7 days

Text

GRUMPY - C. BEDARD

paring: Connor Bedard x fem! reader

word count: 2.4k

requested? yes - connor falling in love with a grumpy girl and trying to get her to go out with him

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

I never really understood the appeal of hockey. The cold rinks, the aggressive players, the constant sound of blades cutting through ice—it all seemed like chaos to me. Yet here I was, surrounded by it day in and day out, working for the Blackhawks. It was a job, nothing more, nothing less.

I'm not exactly known for my sunny disposition. Some might even call me grumpy, but I prefer to think of myself as practical. After all, there's no room for sentimentality in a world as ruthless as professional sports.

That's why, when Connor Bedard first sauntered into the locker room with that boyish grin of his, I rolled my eyes and went about my business. He was just another cocky player, another name to remember, another ego to manage.

But Connor, he was persistent. He made it his personal mission to break through my tough exterior, to chip away at the walls I had carefully built around myself. He'd bring me coffee in the mornings, cracking jokes that were admittedly funny despite my best efforts to remain unimpressed.

"You know, Y/N," he'd say with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "you're not as intimidating as you think you are."

And I'd scoff, brushing off his attempts at charm like they were nothing. But deep down, I couldn't deny the flutter in my chest whenever he flashed that smile of his.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Connor's relentless pursuit began to wear me down. He'd find any excuse to strike up a conversation, lingering in the locker room long after his teammates had gone home.

"I bet I can make you smile," he declared one evening, leaning against the doorframe with a confidence that was both infuriating and undeniably attractive.

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. "Is that a challenge?"

He grinned, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between us. "You could say that."

And before I could protest, he launched into a series of ridiculous anecdotes, each one more absurd than the last. And much to my dismay, I found myself laughing despite my best efforts to resist.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Connor's antics became a regular occurrence, each interaction more endearing than the last. Whether it was stealing my pen during team meetings or leaving a trail of sticky notes with cheesy jokes on my desk, he seemed determined to brighten even my darkest days.

One particularly dreary afternoon, he appeared at my desk with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a paper bag in hand.

"Got something for you," he announced with a grin, placing the bag on my desk.

I eyed him warily, wondering what new scheme he had cooked up this time. "And what might that be?"

"Open it and find out," he urged, practically vibrating with excitement.

Sighing, I reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of fuzzy socks, adorned with cartoon penguins. Despite myself, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

"Thought you could use some warmth," he explained sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

I couldn't help but feel a warmth of a different kind blossoming in my chest as I thanked him, tucking the socks away in my drawer.

But it wasn't just the grand gestures that made my heart skip a beat—it was the quiet moments too, like the way he'd reach for my hand during team meetings or offer a reassuring smile when the pressure became too much to bear.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, I found myself lingering in the locker room, lost in thought. Sensing my solitude, Connor sidled up beside me, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of chaos.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice cutting through the silence like a lifeline.

I turned to face him, offering a small smile in return.

"Rough day?" he asked, his tone gentle.

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

Without hesitation, he pulled me into a warm embrace, holding me close as if to shield me from the world outside.

"You're not alone, you know," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

And in that moment, with Connor's arms wrapped around me, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to be.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Connor's presence became a constant source of light in my life, his unwavering support a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

During late nights at the rink, when exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, he'd materialize out of nowhere with a goofy grin and a bag of my favorite snacks in hand.

"Thought you might need some fuel," he'd say with a wink, plopping down beside me as if he had nowhere else to be.

As I reached for a bag of chips from the assortment he'd brought, curiosity got the better of me. "How did you know to get all my favorite snacks?" I asked, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite myself.

Connor chuckled, leaning back against the cold metal bleachers. "Well, let's just say I have my ways," he replied, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his vague answer. "You mean you went through my desk again, didn't you?"

He feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Me? Never," he said, his grin widening into a full-blown smirk.

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a laugh. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

But as I reached for another snack, a warmth spread through me—a warmth that had little to do with the chips in my hand and everything to do with the boy sitting beside me.

Connor shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do to make sure his favorite grumpy girl doesn't starve, right?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity. "Favorite grumpy girl, huh? Is that what I am now?"

He flashed me a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Absolutely. You're my number one source of entertainment around here."

I nudged him playfully with my elbow, a smile tugging at my lips despite my efforts to maintain a stern facade. "Well, I'll try not to let it go to my head."

But deep down, I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through me at his words. In a world as chaotic and unpredictable as professional sports, Connor's unwavering presence was a comfort—a reminder that even in the midst of the madness, there was still room for laughter and friendship.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Despite the joy Connor brought into my life, a lingering doubt nagged at the back of my mind like a persistent shadow. What if his relentless pursuit was nothing more than a game? What if I allowed myself to open up, only to be left with a shattered heart in the end?

I couldn't shake the fear, no matter how hard I tried to bury it beneath layers of laughter and camaraderie. Every whispered compliment, every tender gesture, only served to fuel my uncertainty.

Was I just another conquest to him, another challenge to conquer before moving on to the next? Or was there something more genuine lurking beneath his playful facade?

As much as I longed to believe in the sincerity of his affections, I couldn't ignore the voice of doubt that whispered in the depths of my mind, urging me to tread cautiously, to protect myself from potential heartache.

But despite my reservations, despite the walls I had built around my heart, I couldn't deny the pull he had on me, the way he made me feel alive in ways I never thought possible.

And so, as I grappled with my conflicting emotions, I found myself torn between the desire to take a chance on love and the fear of getting hurt in the process.

But perhaps, just perhaps, the risk was worth the reward

Connor's presence in my life was undeniably intoxicating, his warmth and affection a balm to my weary soul. Yet, beneath the surface, doubts lingered like shadows in the corners of my mind.

Was I merely a conquest in his game of pursuit, a challenge to conquer before moving on to the next? Or could there truly be something genuine blooming amidst the laughter and tender gestures?

I longed to believe in the sincerity of his affections, to cast aside the doubts and surrender to the possibility of love. But the scars of past heartaches served as a reminder to tread cautiously, to protect myself from the pain of shattered dreams.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Despite the walls I had built around my heart, I couldn't deny the undeniable pull he had on me. His presence made me feel alive in ways I never thought possible, igniting a fire within me that I had long thought extinguished.

As I wrestled with my conflicting emotions, I knew that the decision lay solely in my hands. Would I succumb to the allure of his charm, risking everything for the chance at love? Or would I retreat into the safety of solitude, shielding myself from the potential pain of a broken heart?

But as each day passed, and Connor's presence continued to brighten my life, I found myself leaning more towards taking that leap of faith. Despite the uncertainty and the fear, there was something about him that felt different, something that whispered of authenticity amidst the chaos of my doubts.

I couldn't deny the depth of our connection, the way his laughter echoed in my heart long after he'd gone, or the way his touch sent shivers down my spine. And deep down, I knew that hiding behind my walls wouldn't protect me from the inevitable—the risk of heartache was an inherent part of love, but so too was the potential for joy and fulfillment.

So, with a hesitant yet determined heart, I made a choice—to open myself up to the possibility of love, to embrace the vulnerability that came with it, and to trust in the belief that sometimes, the greatest rewards in life were found in taking the biggest risks.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, my resolve only grew stronger. Connor's presence in my life had become a constant source of joy and comfort, his unwavering support a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty that raged within me.

Yet, despite the warmth of his affection and the undeniable connection that simmered between us, the words remained unspoken, lingering on the tip of my tongue like a forbidden secret.

But as the air grew colder and the days grew shorter, I knew that I couldn't keep hiding behind the safety of my doubts forever. If I wanted to truly embrace the possibility of love, I needed to take a leap of faith—a leap that would require me to bare my soul and lay my heart on the line.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

And so, on a crisp winter evening, with the gentle glow of the moon overhead and the soft whisper of snowflakes dancing in the air, I found myself standing outside Connor's apartment, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepared to take that leap into the unknown.

Summoning every ounce of courage within me, I raised my hand and knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the silent night like a drumbeat of anticipation.

Seconds stretched into eternity as I waited, my nerves on edge as I wondered if I had made a mistake—if I had misread the signs and allowed myself to hope for something that could never be.

But then, just as doubt threatened to consume me whole, the door swung open, revealing Connor's familiar silhouette against the warm glow of the lamplight.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

"Hey," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper as I met his gaze, searching for any sign of rejection or reluctance.

But instead of turning me away or offering empty platitudes, Connor simply stepped aside, inviting me into his world with a silent gesture of welcome.

And as I crossed the threshold into his apartment, leaving behind the chill of the winter night for the warmth of his embrace, I knew that this was it—this was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment when I would finally lay bare the depths of my heart and confess my love to the one who had captured it so completely.

Taking a deep breath to steady my racing pulse, I turned to face Connor, my eyes locked on his as I prepared to speak the words that had been swirling in my mind for so long.

"Connor," I began, my voice trembling with emotion as I reached out to grasp his hand in mine. "There's something I need to tell you—something I've been wanting to say for a long time now."

He listened in silence, his gaze never wavering as he waited patiently for me to continue.

"I know I've been hesitant to open myself up to the possibility of love, to embrace the vulnerability that comes with it," I confessed, my heart laid bare before him. "But being with you, it's shown me that sometimes, the greatest rewards in life are found in taking the biggest risks."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Connor's lips, his eyes sparkling with understanding as he squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"I know I've been afraid to admit it, to acknowledge the depth of my feelings for you," I continued, my voice growing stronger with each word. "But the truth is, Connor, I'm in love with you. Completely and utterly, with every fiber of my being."

And as the weight of my confession hung in the air between us, I held my breath, waiting for his response, hoping against hope that my words hadn't come too late—that they hadn't shattered the fragile bond we had worked so hard to build.

But then, in the quiet stillness of that moment, Connor's expression softened, his eyes alight with a warmth that mirrored my own as he reached out to cup my cheek in his hand.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in close, his breath warm against my skin. "I've been in love with you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. You've brought light into my life in ways I never thought possible, and I can't imagine facing the future without you by my side."

And in that moment, as our lips met in a tender kiss that spoke volumes more than words ever could, I knew that I had finally found my home—in Connor's arms, where I belonged.

#connor bedard x reader #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard #estapa-edwards #hockey #nhl x reader #chicago blackhawks #nhl blackhawks

139 notes · View notes

majora-is-lurking · 11 months

Text

Get to know Pomme!

(or facts gathered by a french viewer who mostly follows french POVs) -Well behaved, polite and affectionate, especially towards her parents. She is very obedient and (almost) always listen to Baghera. She is not afraid to tell her parents that she loves them ♥

-Uses mostly these smileys: :D :0 o_o . For example, when Baghera gets in her room, she greets her with a joyful “Bonjour! :D <3<3<3”

-When she writes in her diary, her style is elegant and graceful. I would not be surprised if the person playing her wrote as a hobby. -Loves construction and builds! She helps Baghera and etoiles build their base, and often gives good ideas. Etoiles is especially grateful since he is a better fighter than a decorator lol.

-At first, she was quite fearful. Scared of the codes, of being alone… One time she left the egg shelter during an attack to join Baghera because she couldn’t bear to not be with her. She had an interesting discussion with Antoine about death, the meaning of life, the value of our time and how we use it… It reassured her about the whole situation with the codes.

-And now she is determined to fight in order to protect herself and the other eggs. She wants to become stronger and to live despite her fear. She asked etoiles to train her, and he does! Fighting became a fun practice game between these two. Her favorite weapon is the hammer.

-During her first days on the island, she was a bit shy. Nowadays, she shows more of her… “French side” let’s say. She groans when somebody interrupts her during her build (with the iconic French “ROOOOH” in all caps on her pannels). Sometimes, Bagz and/or etoiles will put a random block in the middle of a neatly paved way that she built, just to tease her…She becomes so angry, it’s so funny! And when they approach to do it again, she frantically writes “PUT THAT BLOCK AWAY NOW” in all caps. They call her their “little neat freak” ♥

-She adores Richas and considers him to be her best friend! And she finds Leonarda very nice and lovely, and would love to spend more time with them.

-She wants to form a musical band with the other eggs! (Especially Tallulah and Leonarda). And she would love Richas to paint their album covers since he does beautiful drawings ♥

-She would love to go on adventures and dungeons with Etoiles, but the French team is a bit worried that she will lose a life if she follows him on his dangerous quests.

-When asked “what kind of music do you listen to?”, she put “LEZGONGUE” from the ZZCCMXTP album (a collaboration between a looot of French streamers and some rappers too. Baghera and Antoine participated in it btw!). It’s very funny to see such a cute egg dancing on a song like this haha.

Feel free to add other facts/anecdotes about Pomme~

#qsmp #qsmp pomme #qsmp eggs #i thought it would be a cool summary for people who don't follow french povs #so they could still know stuff about our dear Pomme!

766 notes · View notes

green-sky-smoke · 3 months

Text

Reader asks Husk about his ideal date. (~1300 words)

"My ideal date, huh? The one where i win all your money in poker." He laughs, and smiles at you firmly, his eyes pierce at you warmly, like he was looking at nostalgic show, on old, thick tv screen, in worst quality possible. "Bring me cards, hun, i shall do a little," he waves palms happily, "magic! Watch future, how good your chances are." He laughs purringly. Then his smile and cheerful look dissolves. He's never like this for long. "But if you don't plan it... Honestly, i'm not really used to dates. I'm not interested in flowers and fancy dinners, i saw enough of them. I am a man of simple pleasures. I have booze here, why don't just stay where we are?" he tilts his head a little, with catlike grace and elegance, expecting you to nod. And then you both hear something heavy, loudly falling on the floor, and a lot of swears and arguing. His ears press on his head from the sudden noise.

"Well. That's why. We may go somewhere." He sights, annoyed. Husk is frowning, looking in almost empty bottle, like lines of light and reflections on emerald glass will say something his drunk brain stubbornly refuses. He tries very hard to think it out, but he got solid brain fog.

"How about... Well..." he is really lost in his own thoughts. You can almost see how his neurons try to reach one another, but fail miserably, and pain gently swipes them away. "How about... About..."

No. Date isn't a game, it's when you entertained enough being with someone. Not a game. You did games everyday, Husk, what make date unique if it just another playful robbery? Date is not another gambling game, loss of big money and property. Especially not of someone who you like. Maybe you can both play and share loss, or win, playing together and not against each other... But against anyone else? Hm. Would be nice to offer it later, if he won't forget.

He hasn't had any sugarcoated romantic fantasies in a long time, and his brain rejected him creating some now, when he got someone interesting enough. The most interesting thing was just looking at your confused, annoyed face, and just any negative emotion. He felt better sometimes, seeing unhappy faces, when he is himself aren't happy at all about where it all ended for him. Husk hunched over the table, puzzled. Looks like he completely zoned out.

Most of all, he enjoys spending time together, calmly, not in a fight. Table games where he can bluff and laugh at someone's bad strategies and skill, or hand motorics. Magic tricks and spectacular shows. Gently massages and some cuddling. Sleeping and resting, doing nothing. He doesn't like very pricy places, or sports. He isn't most complex person, so it's quite a mystery for him why you would have interest in alcoholic with ludomania who likes to mock you lovingly, or insult. It's kinda easy when he presented with people insecurities every day, every year, when they can't shut up about it, and any anecdotes happening. He could write dissertation about it.

"Cheap, and funny." He chuckled, as your face becomes a little disappointed. "What? Not the answer you wanted?" He smiled, a bit smug. He enjoys your confusion, and how you try to think of questions to to clarify exactly what he wants, when you know that he won't reply long, he mostly gives you very vague answers that tells nothing at most.

"Let me tell you a thing, boo... Planning perfect dates is the most useless thing to do. Life is always unpredictable, chaotic, troubled and hard in hell. Situations always change, your mood, your tastes, you never the same person as day, or hour ago. You never know. If you hunt perfection, perfect place, perfect person, perfect reaction, day and time, you will end up miserable. And... You can try small things and be happy with surprises from this chaotic universe we live in, being constantly amazed how bad you are at fortune-telling!" He spreads his arms with enthusiasm, and then puts them down, waving one. He takes an indifferent sip of alcohol. "Or whatever. I don't care." He for a moment forgets what he wanted to add. Seems like he forgets that you're here too, too entertained with looking at same bottles, as if he was in an elite art gallery. His head migraine felt as if brain is expanding like the universe, right in his skull, and it is about to crack, while he won't be able to say anything intelligible or catch a coherent thought. He needs time to frown. You just look at him, wanting to stroke him. He looks so soft and fluffy, but you can't tell a moment you can do it.

"There isn't such a thing i would call a 'perfect date'. But there is 'it wasn't so bad as i expected'." he says before another long pause. He is clearly thinking hard, trying to scratch words off the walls of the skull, that hit him with an electric shock for any touch. His body was sometimes a real prison, making him worse person, who can really, really never leave for long.

"There may be all things i can enjoy to a point of addiction, but i would just act as grumpy ass until you take me there, waving booze, fists, threats, and i would know how enjoyable this is only after." He smiles and cackles, a bit annoyed and a bit self-ironic. He knows his brain and mood tricks pretty well, but believes he don't really need or can change a thing. He hates it, but he wouldn't wish to be anyone else. "It all seem too boring, overrated, overpriced and annoying to me when i think about it. I can find all reasons to not go anywhere and not move at all. Im in the point of life where it's really hard to find joy and eagerly seek things. You know?" He shrugs. "Go on, i don't mind, if you can bear with me constantly rejecting anything im not used to, and being grumpy old growler. It may at some point end as perfect date i would be sad to forget." He looks at you, like he doesn't really believe it, but willing to let you try. It doesn't matter to him, he will suffer each way in same amount, you wouldn't make it much worse than Alastor. " ...Or not. Who the hell knows. Maybe you will have patience to make some use of such boring, forever grudging and mean demon. Im not the best choice, and it will only make you pathetic to try make impossible work." You smile, finally out of confusion. He just invited you to annoy him, how sweet. You bend over to him and hold out your hand. He doesn't understand your gesture, so he just hand you some heavy bottle of some sweet, sparkling tonic for cocktails. You move the bottle to the table, and you put your hand on his. It suprised him, but he smiled at this micro-miscommunication, and places other hand over your. Old cats are playful too. And no cat will reject some good, pricy food and quiet place to see all things, not just hear behind the bar table. "Well, you are the strongest creative source of new things in my life for now." He smiles faintly. Maybe he was completely sarcastic. "So, take care of yourself. I can't appreciate you most times, but it would be loss for all hell. And i think you didn't drink in a while, so you need some liquid more than hold my hand, dumdum." He gets his hand out of your warm touch, and moves the bottle almost in your face. "Or shall I shake it for you?" He laughs. Husk believes you totally can use some foam of wrath in your face too.

#Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #reader insert #x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader

178 notes · View notes

mr-leach · 5 months

Text

Thinking about how Ulder Ravenguard was so dead set on hating his son for not being a perfect replica of himself that he refused to listen to a single thing he said. He will not even consider listening unless you, a complete fucking stranger, step in to advocate for him, and even then it's an uphill battle. No amount of love or respect Wyll has for his father is enough to grant him any sort of grace; choosing his own path was so much of a slight in Ulder's eyes that Wyll might as well not even be his own son. The only surefire way to get him to understand is to literally break into his mind and show him what happened, and once he finally sees reason what does he do?

He immediately decides on what Wyll should do with his future now that he's back in daddy's good graces. Even sends him to go and finish a quest he himself started to prove his worth. Sure, when Wyll "fails" he acts forgiving, but his attitude is still that Wyll is just a younger version on himself and should act accordingly. Well now that you've earned forgiveness, son, you can get back to business as usual, clearly... regardless of whether that's what Wyll wants for himself or not.

Like. I have a lot of thoughts about this. For one, I have to wonder if Wyll hadn't made a pact with Mizora, or had made a pact with a divine or neutral patron rather than a devil...how long would Wyll and Ulder have actually maintained a good relationship after that night? Like, Wyll has this habit of talking about his childhood and adolescence in that...barely-fond manner. You know, where the person telling stories feels like they're sharing a sweet or funny anecdote, but to everyone else it sounds... miserable. There were parts of his upbringing that he surely enjoyed, but it is deeply overshadowed by a cloud of resentment that Wyll himself barely recognizes. He loves his father, and truly respects and looks up to him, but it's evident from the stories he shares that Ulder treated him more like a student than a son. Wyll was his protege more than his progeny, it sounds like.

And the way it affects how Wyll talks about himself is heartbreaking. He puts himself down all the time, makes self deprecating jokes, or makes unhealthy predictions of what others might think of him. The only time he doesn't...is when he talks about the Blade of Frontiers. He loves the work that he does so much, he is so passionate about being right on the front lines protecting innocents and doing away with evil, and he even takes pride in his decision to make his pact with Mizora because it's that power that he uses to help people. Like gosh, even when fretting over how others might perceive his devilish form, he concludes that, if people see him as a monster, then they'll get to watch a monster fight evil and save people's lives. It sounds cheezy as fuck but oh my god. Like talk about feeling inadequate and unloved but choosing a path for yourself that you can be proud of in spite of all that.

And then, just thinking of that reuniting exchange in and of itself, and just. You can tell just how used to being shot down Wyll is, even though he really, truly wants his father to understand him. And it takes actually forcing Ravengard to witness what happened to make any progress. Many of us wish we could project exactly what we mean or feel or experience directly into the mind of someone we're trying to get through to. And still it's like he can't see past his own selfish perception of Wyll as an extension of himself. Wyll seems satisfied in the moment, but it's apparent that he's still been misunderstood despite being forgiven by his father. It sucks.

#bg3 spoilers #wyll ravengard #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

196 notes · View notes

overnowsfcb · 4 months

Text

valentine; pablo gavi

summary: experimenting love for the first time feels kind of weird, in the best way of the word.

warnings: none, just fluff.

word count: 1,8k

it was the first time you felt like you were inside a love story, the first time you empathized with the protagonists who felt butterflies in their stomachs every time they saw their beloved or smiled at the mere thought of them.

throughout your high school, you were that girl who had to witness your friends telling stories about holding hands, kissing and having sex with the right person, and helping them write and decorate letters for their partners on valentine’s day.

the only solution you found to dive into that world was in the books and movies. all you read was romance, hoping for one in real life. a kiss underneath the rain, a jacket around your shoulders when the air got cold, someone to accompany and hear you.

fortunately, your friends never made you feel left out. but you couldn't help but feel that way every time you saw them smile with their significant others. the epitome of that feeling was when you blew out the eighteen candles in your birthday cake, it felt like sealing your fate.

everyone applauding and cheering that you reached the majority of age. the only thing you did when everyone left wasn't opening the amount of presents they had given you.

you sat on the couch with the lights off and put your favorite rom-com on the tv, searching for ice cream on the fridge and a blanket. you knew every word of the movie, every scene, every detail.

you had the same reaction as the first time you saw it. in a slumber party, when you were twelve. and that contrast is what gave you distress and shame, it had been six years and you still haven't had a romance. tears began to fall from your eyes, thinking that that person who would make you feel unique would never come.

it was almost funny how you manifested it in your life after watching it over and over again. after holidays, you applied for the first job that had vacancies to help your mother with your two younger siblings; she was having trouble covering everything with a single income.

your job at a small bookstore hidden in a secluded corner of barcelona didn't pay much, but it was your favorite place. you enjoyed organizing books, recommending them, and having conversations about them with interested customers.

you never would have imagined seeing one of your brother's favorite football players enter that store. the little bell above the door chimed, and you quickly looked up from the book you were finishing, right at the best part.

"buenas," (hi.) he said, approaching the counter. you tucked the book beneath it and stood up from the stool.

"buenas tardes, ¿cómo puedo ayudarte?” (good afternoon, how can I help you?) you smiled formally, just as you did with all customers. you were amazed at how pretty he was; your brother always watched his interviews, and you knew quite a bit about his life. however, you couldn't understand why it felt like a breeze of air had reached your face when he stood up in front of you.

"i was looking for a book for my sister. a birthday gift." you nodded and asked him to specify a bit more about her interests, and what genre she liked.

"ah, she's into mystery novels," he replied, his eyes scanning the shelves as if trying to find the perfect gift.

you led him to the mystery section, explaining the different authors and their styles. as you chatted, you couldn't help but notice how down-to-earth and friendly he was. you were an expert talking to new people, but this felt different, it was the perfect cadence.

he eventually settled on a classic detective novel, expressing gratitude for your assistance. as he paid for the book, he asked, "would it be too much trouble to have it gift-wrapped? it's a surprise for her, you see."

you gladly agreed, and as you carefully wrapped the book, he continued the conversation. he shared anecdotes about his sister's love for mystery stories and how he hoped this gift would bring her joy.

little did you know that after that interaction that brightened the rest of your day, it would turn into something much more significant.

you pondered whether you would see him again. had he felt the same as you? or maybe it was just your desperation, and how notting hill was engraved in your subconscious.

but sometimes, movie scripts weren't entirely wrong, like when you heard the little bell of the store ringing again a week later, this time while you were arranging some new books that had arrived, perched on the ladder.

"hi," he greeted excitedly. you directed your gaze to where the sound came from, and a smile appeared on your face. you were almost overcome with excitement, but you held on tightly to the ladder to not fall.

"good morning," you said, finishing arranging a book and descending from the ladder.

"my sister loved the book! she said it was the best gift ever," he beamed, making you feel great. he extended an invitation for coffee as a token of appreciation.

you didn't even know if it was professional to accept it while you were working, but you weren't hurting anyone. and that was the best decision you could ever make in your life.

every hope that you had murdered with resentment now resurrected with a new shine. what you thought was your destiny was just a moment in time.

it had been a challenge for pablo to make you believe that he truly wanted to be with you. countless times, he felt the need to explain how wonderful and precious you were.

you didn't know how to react to his compliments or sudden kisses. he was so spontaneous and impulsive, and you were so calculated and cold because he was everything you had ever dreamed of. but what if it was just a dream that could crumble at any moment?

yet, he took it upon himself day and night to make you feel like the most cherished woman. and how could you not feel that way with those crystal-clear eyes looking at you as if you were a sunset over the ocean?

he loved your laughter so much that he couldn't help but make jokes or clown around at every opportunity that presented itself.

he showed you a new way to see life, to explore a new spectrum of colors that had been withheld from you for so long, and dispelled certain beliefs that were imposed on your mind.

even your mother and your own friends adored him; they couldn't ask for more than your first love to be with such a dedicated and understanding guy, dispelling any lingering doubts.

he was the person who listened to you talk about your favorite books but also, had no problem listening when you complained about something going wrong.

the smallest and most imperceptible details were what made you fall a little more in love with him every day, confirming that you wanted to be by his side for eternity.

his angelic voice was engraved in the back of your mind, the first “i love you”, the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears the first time you decided to make love, assuring you that he would take care of you at every moment. and, of course, he protected his word, a man who never failed you.

sometimes, just sometimes, when you understood the great person the universe put in your path and remembered that you haven’t lose your mind trying to find a man like him. when you remembered his touch was completely real —something that took quite a while to accept— you flaunted him in front of everyone.

his eskimo kisses every time you felt down had become so essential and pure that they automatically reset your mind.

and you couldn’t forget how he had the gift of turning the simplest things into memories that you would fantasize to tell your grandchildren, sitting side by side, full of gray hair and wrinkles. the beauty of simplicity.

it was truly a movie-like love. a movie that your 16-year-old self would love with all her heart, and now you were living it firsthand, and it was true. it existed, and no one could take it away from you.

“i don't ever wanna let go of you. i want us to stay like this, like sloths, for the rest of our lives.” you giggled, amused by his antics and nose nuzzling affectionately against your neck. he squeezed your waist with his hand and got you trapped with his leg over your body.

“i would love to do that too, baby. but unfortunately, we're only human, and i still can't be late for work.” you moved his leg and replacing the pout of his lips with a sweet kiss. you could spend hours listening to him talk.

he grabbed your cheeks and showered your face with kisses while you laughed. “seriously!”

“i hate that you have to work.”

“you should be grateful, because if i didn't have this job, you would've never meet me.” his eyes sparkled with affection as you headed off, leaving behind the warmth of his presence but carrying the glow of his love within you.

he often wondered if you knew you were his first true love. none of the women who came before you stood up to the way he couldn't help but think and speak of you, of your remarkable essence as a person.

it was as if meeting you had illuminated a part of his soul he didn't know existed—a feeling so profound, it reshaped his understanding of love. your presence felt like the missing piece he'd been searching for, and with every passing day, he found himself falling deeper.

once, he couldn't fathom the allure of romantic movies, convinced they portrayed an unrealistic, overly idealized version of love. how could it possibly measure up to reality? it felt like a sudden twist in the game when he discovered the depth of love in the embrace of a girl who adored those movies. it was through this realization that he understood—love was far more beautiful than any screenwriter could ever capture.

the movies could never capture the immensity of his emotions during those fleeting moments when he danced with you, be it in the disco or under the soft kitchen light because it held the same intimacy. it was in the way your voice still trembled ever so slightly when you praised him and the way your cheeks flushed with color when he returned the compliment.

for both of you, it was a fairytale woven into reality. you, always yearning for it, and him, a skeptic who never believed in such tales.

the enchantment and genuineness were evident in every shared glance and each entwined finger. it was etched in the lines of your palms, you were meant to be timeless.

#pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #football imagine #football x reader #football fluff #gavi fluff #pablo gavi fluff

284 notes · View notes

butchsophiewalten · 2 months

Text

03/03/24 Twitter Space Recap (2/2)

After the other Twitter Space which I already made a recap for, Martin, Eva ("Bon" and Bon's VA), Coral (Susan's VA), and Kyle (Boozoo & Charles' VA) reconvened for another space, this time with a Q&A focus, later in the day. This one was really long, and they talked about a lot, but I've summarized it here to the best of my ability:

-Someone asks "What would Jenny major in college? Because it's implied that she's in college." Martin answers (reiterating an answer he gave in a previous Space) that she studies psychology. Coral chimes in to say that they think Jenny would understand Sophie and her trauma a lot better for it, and Martin agrees, saying "Yeah, yeah, I think Jenny has a really good understanding of how Sophie thinks because of that."

-Someone asks "Hypothetically, which Tyler, The Creator album would be Sophie's favorite?". Martin answers that he thinks it would be Flower Boy.

-"When Jack and Rosemary argue, Jack sleeps on the couch and he goes to Molly, and he goes like 'Hey, could you go pick that up for me? I don't want to enter the room,' 'cause, like, whenever Rosemary is mad she's actually really scary. So Jack just doesn't- doesn't get involved. He just sleeps on the couch."

-Eva goes, "Martin, didn't we agree before that if Sophie and Brian ever met, Sophie would just kick his ass?". Martin answers, "Yeah, Sophie would hate Brian."

-"Okay, here's a Jophie fact, Jophie wasn't even supposed to be, like, an actual relationship, at first. Originally, it was gonna be, like, they would gradually start dating as the series went on. But then, we were like, Y'know what, it's way easier if they are already a couple... Imagine if you're going through the animatronic drama, and simultaneously it's just these two girls falling in love, in the middle of all that shit."

-"Will Richie appear again?" At this point the battery in Martin's phone has died, but nobody has noticed, so Eva steps in to answer, "Martin has had plans to bring Richie back for more stuff, but he hasn't really done anything with him yet, but I dunno." Kyle says he doesn't remember who Richie is, which is really funny to me.

-Someone asks if either Sophie or Jenny would like Weezer, and Coral says they think Jenny would like them unironically, but Sophie would like something like Buddy Holly ironically. Martin answers, "Y'know, I think Sophie- I've always thought that Sophie isn't the kinda person to like- like, experimental or artistic stuff too much, because she's like a very- a person that gets confused very easily. So, she would listen to stuff like Weezer and she would think internally, like, 'what the fuck is this?', but she'd go like "Oh, this is fire, Jenny, I love- I love it."'

-Kyle says he thinks it's important for Jenny to be a bit of a loser, in an endearing way. Eva slightly disagrees, saying Jenny would probably be the cool one between them, while Sophie is an absolute loser. Martin says, "I was trying to say, before we change the subject, the way I see it is that, to me, Sophie has a lot of like, street smarts, and Jenny is more like a very dorky person that probably just, like, lived a very normal and fulfilled life, y'know? She just, like, lived in the suburbs, with supporting people in her life. I think Sophie, yeah, she's kind of loser, but I think, in a way, in my opinion I think Sophie's a little braver than Jenny is. I've always seen them like that."

-Coral says, "I feel like Sophie wouldn't really know how to emote properly." and Martin says, emphatically, that she doesn't. Coral describes a scenario where Jenny is upset or scared by something, and is crying. and how Sophie would try her best to comfort her, but would really not know what to do, and would struggle immensely in a situation like that. Martin adds an anecdote, "Yeah, no, I-I told this to Eva one time, Sophie doesn't cry. Jenny has never- has never seen Sophie cry, ever."

-Eva says, "I think, like, um- [Sophie's], like, lack of really, like, full awareness of what's going on for episode 3- like, seeming really 'dead', the whole time, is like- while it could be seen as like, bad writing, it- I think it also can be taken as a part of her character. And that's also, like, further emphasized in future episodes, and here emotions are just, like really--" and Coral interrupts, saying, "No offense to Martin, but I feel like it's a mix of both."

Martin says, ""Yeah, it's a mix of both. It- the intention of making her seem like someone who wasn't really 'in there', at the time, someone who wasn't really like, aware of what's going on, is just like, barely even phased by it, was there, but it was just mostly bad writing. The way I see it is that, back then I didn't trust the series as much as I trust it now, so I was always making sure that people would understand stuff the way that I intended it to, and that resulted in Sophie just saying everything out loud. Like, 'this is very weird!'"

-Eva talks for a bit about how she gets frustrated when Crystal, Sophie's VA, gets criticism over her performance, when the problem really laid with Martin's writing. She says that one of her favorite aspects of Crystal's performance as Sophie is that she sounds very childlike, not in the way of her actually being a child, but in seeming very much like someone who never really grew out of being a child.

On this topic, Martin says, "Or- to me, more like Sophie being someone who never grew out of being a child- is someone who was forced to grow up very quickly. So, so she doesn't know how to be- she didn't get to know how to be a child, but she didn't get to know how to be an adult, either. So she's, like, stuck and is constantly- she doesn't really know what to do most of the time, because- she doesn't really understand what she's supposed to do and how she's supposed to do things."

-Eva says, "Sophie is like, probably one of the most interesting characters in the series to me, and I can't wait for her to come back, 'cause she's so interesting." and Martin responds, "Oh, yeah! I really- because I think if she comes back, she's gonna feel so different, with like, the new style of writing, and stuff. I think, um, something I really like about Sophie is that, uh, I really like how people think of Sophie like this fucking girl- oh, I mean, back in the day, I don't know how it is now, but back in the day people would think Sophie would be like, this very soft and shy person, but, no, in a way, Sophie's a very mean person! She's like, something I always thought about when it comes to her character is that she is- she has so many weak, like, social skills, that she usually gets very defensive with anybody."

-Eva talks about how Sophie is definitely a very walled-off and antisocial person, and how she tends to push people out of her life, aside from Jenny, and Martin says, "And, like, Sophie fucking hated Jenny at the beginning. [laughing] Like, she didn't hate her, but I remember telling you specifically how they met, and it took a while- not- not a while-while, but it took some time for Sophie to get used to Jenny, and actually start developing feelings for her." Coral compares the evolution of their relationship to the process of taming a feral cat.

-Eva says, "Someone said, 'What animal would Sophie be if she was an animal,' I think she'd be a deer." Martin says, "I think she'd be a WOLF! A WEREWOLF!" Kyle says he thinks if Sophie is a deer, Jenny should be a moose.

-Martin reads a question, "'Besides painting, what other art does Rose make?' Okay, this was an idea from back when Coker was part of the team, that, we wanted to make, like, a third Showstopper album, which was going to be songs composed by Rose. So, Rose was kind of like a songwriter."

-Eva says, "Someone asked for a Richie fact, and asked if he's friends with Chris." Martin hems and haws, going "Oh, I wanna talk about it, but I don't know if I should!", but then says, "Yeah, they're friends."

Kyle says he thinks they would hold hands, "In a platonic way, because it's cold outside." Martin jokes, saying, "I think they would hold hands... in a romantic way!"

-Martin reads a question, saying he thinks Kyle would enjoy answering it, "Is Felix Kranken religious? If so, what's his religion?", and Kyle says he has an idea that Felix isn't religious and never has been, but during his lowest moments in life, he prays. "He is an incredibly superstitious person, so when the going gets really bad, all he can think to do is drop to his knees, and just home that somebody's listening."

Martin says, "The Waltens actually- I mean, Sophie, Edd, and Molly aren't, but Jack and Rosemary are Christian." Eva jokes that she thinks Edd & Molly are Satanists.

-Coral asks what everything thinks is the worst thing Edd & Molly have done, and Martin says, "From the top of my head, like something I'm just making up, I really think something they would do, is they would buy all of Jack's socks, and change them for smaller ones so they don't fit his feet. So he has to go to work with, like, really tiny socks."

-Eva reads a question, "Where's Brian Stells hiding? Like, where's his spirit hiding." Martin and Eva both say that they think his ghost lingered around for a while, but that he probably just died. Like, nothing special happened to his ghost. Eva shares an idea she has, that Bon probably realized, at some point while killing Brian, that he wasn't Sophie, but continued to mutilate him out of anger that he wasn't her.

-Martin goes, "What do you think made him realize [that Brian wasn't Sophie]? I like to think that Bon looked at him, and was like, 'wait, Sophie's not fucking blonde, is she?', and he took like three seconds to remember."

-Eva reads, "Can we get a CyberTelly fact?" and Kyle answers, "CyberTelly used to be a car salesman before he joined Bon's Burgers."

-Eva goes, "Wait, Martin, didn't we agree at one point that Bon would have a ridiculous amount of exes? He's like Ramona Flowers?" and Martin laughs and agrees emphatically. He says, "So fucking funny- Bon has a fucking ex-wife that's literally just a female version of Bon. Like, Bon with a pink bowtie."

-Eva says, "Someone just asked, 'What's Richie's last name', can we just come up with the stupidest last name for him on the spot?". They spitball a bunch of really stupid answers, and land on "Richie Ratterson".

-Martin reads a question, "'Are we going to see Showbear's replacement in 5 & 6?' Yep!"

-They start talking about how Felix has a new voice actor, but at the time of the Space, they hadn't actually told him yet, that he had been picked to be Felix's new VA. They invite him to the stream and tell him live! He's very thankful and very surprised. You can find him on Twitter Here!

-Martin posted this (and deleted it after five seconds) to celebrate Felix's new voice actor. Isn't it nice don't you guys love it

After posting this he kept going "Toxic Yaoi!" in a very sing-song way.

-Coral complains that they never got kissing art when they became a VA for The Walten Files, so Martin drew this for them, and again deleted it after a couple seconds:

-Coral talks about a while about how, just before the Space, everyone speaking in the space (minus Connor, Felix's new VA) watched the finished portions of TWF6. They gush for a bit about just how good it was, and how nice it was to see everyone's hard work come together and how glad they are that everyone seems so proud of and happy with the episode.

-Martin answers a question, "Please, Martin, can you draw Felix and "Bon", I'll take it over Jelix, please don't draw that again," with, "Don't worry, don't worry, you're going to see Felix and "Bon", eventually."

-Martin talks for a bit about how he found out PepsiCo supports Israel, and how mad he is, because in Bon's Burgers there's a Pepsi ad on the wall, and it's in virtually every scene, and can't be removed. He apologizes preemptively, saying "I created that map before being made aware of that, so I'm sorry in advance for that."

-In the last minute of the space, Martin attempts a lightning round Q&A session, answering as many questions as he can as quickly as he can. Here are those answers:

-"Would Jenny listen to Ska? Okay, sure, why not."

-"Do Derek Collins and/or Frank Davis appear in 5 or 6? Yeah, Derek appears."

-"Would Sophie be an Undertale fan? No."

-My audio blipped out this part of the recording, so I can't transcribe it, but someone asked who would win in a fight, Jack or Susan. Martin initially answered Jack, but after thinking about it for another moment, decides Susan would probably win.

-"Is Susan and cat or dog person? Probably cat."

#the walten files #okay this wasn't as bad as i thought it was going to be. i didnt need to put it off for this long #i mean writing this did take me like 3 hours because that's how long this recording is. but its ok #they did a lot more just chatting between themselves than like. Walten Files Facts. so not too much to write down #twitter space recap

134 notes · View notes