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tiktowafel · 2 years

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Hey love your headcanons! I was wondering if you have any for Tsuburaba?

yup i have many! i love this boy so much

the majority of the class 1b fandom seems to agree that this dude is a total memelord and i honestly can't look him in those googly eyes and disagree with that

he definitely spams the class group chat with memes, recreates vines with his friends, quotes them all the time, gets mildly upset every time someone doesn't understand a reference and acts like he has memorized every knowyourmeme article in existence

i think he's just class 1-b's main funny guy in general, always joking around, telling wacky stories, pulling pranks and just trying to make everyone laugh :)

speaking of pranks: he loves pulling them because his quirk is perfect for that purpose. he did the "putting walls of solid air in doorways and waiting for someone to bump into them" one so may times it's more annoying than funny at this point, but it's his favorite nonetheless. mainly because he really enjoys watching certain people (usually Awase or Kamakiri, the ones who swear the most) get ridiculously pissed over it lol

he also uses his quirk to make little glass figures. he's not much of an artist so they usually come out really wonky but everyone thinks theyre cute

lung capacity has a lot to do with physical endurance so i guess he does long distance running as a form of quirk training? i feel like hes a pretty sporty person in general considering ball sports are canonically one of his favorite things

as much as he likes his quirk, he has to admit that it can be pretty damn inconvenient sometimes. for example respiratory diseases make it go haywire and it's incredibly annoying because it activates every time he coughs or sneezes

(can you tell i love his quirk and think about it a lot?? because i love his quirk and think about it a lot)

his life motto is probably something like "the more stupid shit you do, the more funny stories you'll have to tell your friends later!" because he always gets himself in trouble in dumbest ways possible and then walks up to people like "hey wanna hear about my latest near death experience"

but he's an amazing storyteller, really. this man's got such a way with words that everyone likes listening to him

he'd actually make a pretty good teacher.... if he wasn't absolutely terrible at almost everything school related

english is his only really strong school subject (90% of his skills comes from watching yt videos and looking at memes in english). he's pretty bad at everything else because his memory sucks and he can't pay attention in class to save his life

Rin is usually the one who helps him with studying. this is the main reason why they're close because Rin has the soul of an old man and doesn't get Tsuburaba's sense of humor at all lmao

the people who definitely do get his sense of humor are Tokage and Fukidashi. they're the meme trio of class 1-b and they have a separate group chat that exists for shitposting purposes only

he's also really good friends with Kaibara and Awase, the other two common sense kings, plus Tetsutetsu and Kamakiri, buuut i'm too lazy to talk about it rn lol

Yanagi on the other hand really doesn't like him. she considers him an annoying pervert and treats him like a sworn rival. he likes messing with her in return despite not really understanding why she hates him so much. the rest of the class thinks their interactions are hilarious

i mean he's canonically pretty dirty minded, but he's no Mineta!

sure he laughs at dirty jokes and often catches himself staring at people but he usually keeps his... thoughts to himself

idk for some reasons he seems like the kind of guy who sleeps naked (obviously he wears a robe when walking around the dorms)

it's a very good way to keep Tetsutetsu out of his room because Tetsu's the kind of guy who likes storming into peoples rooms in the morning like "it's a beautiful day outside bro!! the birds are singing and the sun is shining, get out of bed and go eat a healthy breakfast!!!" and Tsuburaba needs his beauty sleep lmao

(well maybe he wouldn't need it if he didn't stay up till 3am watching meme compilations on youtube every night)

every common sense king knows how to play an instrument and Tsuburaba's no exception. he's an absolute master at playing the kazoo

and also at whistling

fuck canon. this man has freckles

since freckled people don't tan very well, he gets sunburns a lot. it's not his fault he likes going outside and just forgets his sunscreen sumetimes :(

everyone in his family is taller than him and he hates it

speaking of his family, he has two older siblings - a brother and a sister, and i actually have character designs for them and their parents too (i also made up families for a bunch of other students. maybe one day i'll get myself to draw them and write some headcanons?)

that's all for today! i wanted to make this a bit more serious but decided not to because... idk man i didn't feel like it

#kosei tsuburaba #tsuburaba kosei #class 1b headcanons #class 1b #bnha #tikto's headcanons #its kinda funny how much i like him #like this man has 0 canon personality traits hes my 2nd favorite character in 1b solely because of headcanons #i have 20 reasons to like him and theyre all made up #also #the tsuburaba and yanagi are rivals concept is borrowed from two guys i know from reddit

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offmykelter · 4 months

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More random scc headcanons

Wendigo parents Cornmuffin like your average Puerto Rican mother. Firm believer that when he acts up, she doesn't hit him don't hit your kids guys, she hisses at him in infernal to act right.

Dio has really steady hands. Scratch that, she can just stand really fucking still. Her aunt and cousins sometimes stop her and ask her to pain their nails (she loves when the ask)

Kelter hums/sings to himself when he's working on something. Gets a bit embarrassed when someone catches him, but he covers that up too because being embarrassed is embarrassing. He's a good singer too (queue in the modern/band au lmao)

Alistair, Diomeda and Cornmuffin participate in arts and crafts together. Sitting at the table with kid safe scissors, and construction paper, and all sorts of glued and glitter and googly eyes

Alistair has a small box of things that he really likes. Some priceless artifacts if you will, gifts he's been given since being with the group. Sometimes when he's having a bad memory day, he just sits with the box.

Good God, does the group want a dog so bad, but one the won't say anything scared that it's only a them thing, and two, they wouldn't have time to take care of the dog so no point in bringing it up. They all get excited when they see a puppy/puppy adjacent thing and wanna pet super bad.

This is canon, Endrust is my character. Whenever someone knocks on his door or the office, he throws his reading glasses to hide them. He has a chronic hiding information about myself issue

Diomeda knows he has glasses (in canon). She yells at him whenever he throws his glasses.

Pneuma has a nice smile, when it's genuine. When he forces it, he just bares his teeth and looks awkward. Shame he doesn't smile much :/

Pneuma makes godly rice. He knows the exact smell of when to fluff, and when to take it off heat.

Kelter teaches Pneuma to swim. Pneuma doesn't bother to tell Kelter he can already swim. Kelter has forgotten every time he's ever seen Pneuma swimming.

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pwnyta · 2 years

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I love when people have ring lights and glasses because sometimes it looks like the reflection is their eyes and theyre all googly. LMAO

(I love Bob too.)

#Text posts.

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

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I Promise

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Bowers!Reader (young)

Request/synopsis: “Hi! If you’re still writing Stanley Uris, could you write a little childhood piece taking place during the first movie where the reader is one of the bullies’ little sister and hates what her brother and his friends are doing to the losers and starts to hanging out with them and the boys make fun of Stan because it’s obvious that he likes her and one day they’re walking and end up on the kissing bridge and he just starts rambling to her about something he saw and she interrupts him by kissing him”

Word count: 4,390 I think I got carried away

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of attempted murder? Use of the term flamer, it means flamboyant gay, Stan is called that by Patrick in the books. Mentions a lewd act that happens in the book as well. Violence from a brother. Bullying. Some angst? Pennywise, that should definitely be a warning lmao. Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Sort of mentions character death.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted, I tried to do this request justice (since it was my first! Thank you to the anon that asked for it!) but I definitely took it on an angsty ride lol. I definitely focused more on Henry and the time in the sewers than I originally planned. Sorry this took so long as well, I wasn’t sure how to fit all of my ideas together. I really like how this turned out, but it’s also like two in the morning so there could be typos.

Do you like being Henry's little sister? Of course not. Siblings or not, Henry treats you like shit too, at least he has the decency to keep it behind closed doors. On top of that, everyone avoids you, expecting you to be just like your brother or Greta. Greta is relatively nice to you, or as nice as demon spawn can be, she never makes fun of you or bullies you, she even tries to include you in her shit. Thinking, like everyone, that Henry actually likes you; and this way she can make a good impression and he can finally ask her out.

You walk out of the front doors of the school on the last day to see your lovely brother and his idiot friends teasing Stan and his group of friends, stealing the curly-haired boys kippah. Richie, being his typical self, starts screaming and insulting Henry, making him angrier. Henry takes said anger out on Stan, pushing him to the ground and pulling his leg back to kick the smaller boy in the side.

“Hey!” you scream and rush over to the scene, before you can realize what you're doing.

“Come to defend your boyfriend?” your brother sneers before laughing like a lunatic.

“Back off Henry,” you glare at him, stepping between him and Stan. You can hear the poor boy behind you struggling to stand up.

“Or what?” Henry leans in, face inches from yours. He has never made his dislike for you public, even his friends are shocked by his actions. “You gonna run home and tell Dad?”

“Tempting,” you push him away from your face, mindful that your father is on duty somewhere in the ocean of students. As he’s distracted by the shove, you yank the kippah free from his grasp. “You want them, you go through me.”

“That can be arranged,” he grits his teeth, gesturing for his friends to grab you.

They look shocked for a second, before Belch wraps his large arms around your middle to hold you back. Your brother smirks at you as he advances on Stan, preparing to punch him. Your pleas for him to stop advancing on the loser’s, as they’re dubbed, fall on deaf ears.

“Let go of me you creep!” you yell at Belch, before slamming your foot down on his. He lets go of you before bouncing around in pain, like a stupid cartoon character. You run between Henry and the Losers, but not before he can shove Richie to the ground. “Go home Henry,” you shove his chest again.

“You can’t make me,” he flips open his switchblade as he advances on you. The rest of the world seems to still and all you can think is will Henry really hurt you? You hear the muffled cries from the boys behind you get louder with each step your brother takes towards you.

“What’s going on here?” your dad's voice cuts through the haze, Henry backs off and hides his knife before Dad can see.

“I was just offering her a ride home,” Henry scowls as he turns to your father.

“And I was telling him that I was going to go hang out with my friends,” you use your thumb to point at the boys behind you. Your Dad eyes them wearily before ultimately coming to the conclusion that they’re a harmless group of nerds. He nods at you and sends Henry a small glare that if you blink you’ll miss before heading back the way he came.

“Watch yourself,” Henry warns before making his way to Belch’s car, friends in tow. You let out a sigh as they drive away, shoulders slumping as your adrenaline wears off.

“I think this belongs to you,” you smile at Stan, handing him his kippah.

“Thanks,” he breathes, he looks like he wants to continue speaking but no words come out. As he grabs the kippah from you, his fingers brush against yours and a blush creeps up his cheeks. You grin at how adorable he is.

“Are you guys okay?” you glance between him and Richie. Stan just nods and Richie rolls his eyes at the doe eyed look his friend is giving you.

“I’d say we didn’t need your help, but Stan the man here certainly liked being your damsel in distress,” Richie smacks a hand on Stan’s shoulder and laughs, you soon join in. Stan smacks the boy with the glasses harder than you think anyone realized he could. “Ow, that fucking hurt” Richie whines, rubbing his arm and sulking off to Eddie.

“D-do y-y-you wan-nt to go-o to the qu-qu-quarry wi-with us?” Bill asks and Richie smirks at the idea.

“I should go before Henry gets even more mad,” you play with the hem of your shirt. “But thank you for asking.”

“Please,” Richie clasps his hands and blinks dramatically at you, sticking his bottom lip out in an over dramatic pout.

“Why not?” you grin at the losers, but at Stan the most.

Over the following weeks you grow closer to the boys; Bev, Mike, and Ben too when they join the losers club. One day the eight of you are at the quarry trying to ignore the whole killer clown thing. Stan looks nervous about jumping into the water, even though you’ve seen him do it multiple times already. So you decide to grab his hand and pull him down with you withput warning. He lets out a high pitched screech that you almost can’t hear over the wind whipping past you.

Once you and Stan, the last two to jump down, break the water's surface Richie grabs Eddie repeatedly screaming the word chicken and shaking the smaller boy. Bev grabs Ben’s hand to which he grins at. Richie and Bill share a look before the stuttering boy wades over to you.

“W-w-will you b-be my par-pa-partner?” Bill smiles at you, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Of course!” you smile at your friend, happy that the group accepted you quickly even though you’re a Bowers. You don’t see the glare Stan is sending Bill as he pairs up with Mike. Richie smirks at the rest of the group, you and Stan oblivious to the looks they send each other and their plan to make Stan so jealous he tells you how he feels.

“So Stan,” Richie sings.

“No,” Stan says, watching you and Bev ride your bikes to your house for a sleepover. Her dad was worse than normal lately and she needed an escape, and you loved the escape it created from your brother.

“I never asked my fucking question,” the boy with the coke-bottle glasses pouts.

“Because nothing good ever comes out of your mouth,” Stan deadpans, finally turning to look at his friends. You rode past the curve at the end of the road effectively taking you out of Stan’s line of sight, so he had no reason not to look at his friends now.

“You were holding hands with (Y/N),” Eddie speaks up from Richie’s side. “Which is just fucking disgusting! Do you know how many germs-”

His voice is cut off when Richie slaps his hand over the smaller boy's mouth. The look of terror on the hypochondriac’s face is one that Richie won’t stop laughing at for years to come.

“She pulled me off the ledge,” Stanley rolls his eyes, suppressing a blush as he remembers how soft and warm your hand was. “It meant nothing.”

“And big Bill doesn’t fucking stutter,” Richie rolls his brown eyes, which look like googly eyes since they’re magnified by his glasses.

“What?” Stan asks looking at the road in front of him, not wanting his friends to see how red his face and ears are.

“I thought we were coming up with obvious lies,” Richie shrugs. “You’ve been in fucking love with her since you two got paired up at the beginning of the damn school year.”

“Have not!” Stan tries to lie, but his face darkens three shades deeper. The red instantly gives his obvious feelings away to his smirking friends.

“It’s that or you have rosacea,” Edidie looks up at the Jewish boy with mock innocent eyes. “Because your cheeks are bright red every time you're around her.” Stan doesn’t respond because he knows they’re right, so he just walks away from them.

“Do you like Stan?” Bev giggles at the sleepover. The two of you had been talking about her and Ben prior to the question.

“Yeah,” you mumble, looking down at your hands resting in your lap. “He’s so nice, and so sweet, and so caring. Plus, he went out of his way to help me when I was confused in class this year.”

“Yeah-” you cut off the redhead.

“And the way his curls fall in front of his eyes when he’s leaning forward, so he has to angrily huff at it to try to blow the curl away. And the way his face scrunches up all adorably when he’s concentrating on a hard problem.”

Before you can continue fawning over your friend, your door slams open. It hits the wall behind it with a loud crack, where you later find a hole in the wall the handle created. In the doorway is a pissed off Henry, steam practically shooting out of his ears.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him and the rest of those fucking losers?” he shouts, you’re dad isn’t here to hear him. “And now I hear you talking about that damn flamer with the schools slut no less.”

“Funny that you call Stan a flamer,” you smirk at your brother as you stand from the bed, subtly stepping in front of Bev so she’s behind you and away from your brother's wrath. “When Patrick gave you a hand job.”

“How the fuck did you hear about that?” he slams his fist into the wall beside him, knocking off a framed photo of a bird Stan had sketched for you during the school year.

“I saw it with my own two eyes, dumb ass,” you sneer at him. “Next time you want to get a hand job from your boyfriend, don’t do it at the dump.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” he roars, closing in on you. Bev lets out a small gasp behind you, you feel bad she has to witness this. Especially when she came here to get away from her dad.

“Go ahead, then run off to get your oral from him,” you laugh. Before Henry can do anything else, the front door opens and your dad calls for you two. You sigh in relief as your older brother storms out of your room. You and Bev never bring up what was said or what just happened.

You got separated from Stan while in Neibolt, but luckily Bill was with you. The horrors you all faced in that run down house will forever haunt each and every one of you. You’re shaking slightly as Stan and you cling onto each other as the two of you walk out of that horrendous place.

You gasp loudly and hide your face in Stan’s chest as Bill punches Richie in the face. Your body starts to shake slightly without your permission, being taken back to when Henry punched the wall a few days prior. Bev pulls you into her side as Stan and Mike help Richie up. Bill goes for Richie again, but Ben holds him back. Richie yells back in retaliation.

“Stop,” you whimper, body trembling worse. Visions of your dad and Henry yelling at each other and shoving one another flash through your mind. A memory of Henry punching the locker beside your head when you were the last two in school floats to the forefront of your mind. “Please.”

Stan immediately rushes over to you and pulls you into his chest, you don’t care if he finds out about your feelings anymore as you grip onto his striped polo. He’s an anchor in the storm of your mind. Even when Henry isn’t around, he’s still lurking in the back of your mind making sure he can hurt you. The rest of the group stops what they’re doing for a minute to glance at the two of you before walking in two separate directions. Bev gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she leaves.

“How about I walk you home? Stan offers, rubbing his hand in a calming motion on your back.

“Can we go on a walk instead?” you ask nervously, pulling away slightly. He keeps his arms wrapped around you as he studies your face. He keeps his arm around your shoulder as you walk through the park.

You and Stan take a seat in front of the giant Paul Bunyan statue, soaking up the summer sun and the sounds of the birds singing. For the next several hours you and Stan lay side by side on the grass as he points out different birds and tells you about them. Your heart pounds every time your fingers brush against each other as they lay in between you. Your body and heart are aching to slip your fingers through his, but your mind is telling you no. You ultimately listen to your mind, feeling dissatisfied with yourself at the awkward wave he gives you as he drops you off at your house.

The days where the losers are fighting rush by, each of them spent doing something with Stan. before you know it, it’s nearing the end of the summer and Pennywise is gone. You reluctantly take part in the blood oath, wanting to leave this town as soon as you turn eighteen and never look back. But you would do anything for your friends, even risk your life for them again. As you're hugging Bev goodbye, you can’t believe she’s really leaving, Stan comes up beside you.

“Will you go on a walk with me?” Stan asks timidly, not meeting your eyes. The puffy bandages around his face make your heart lurch at the thought of how much pain he must have endured.

“Sure,” you nod even though he’s staring at the ground in front of his feet. Bev gives you a smile and a slight shove in encouragement. You give her one last smile as you start off down the trail, Stan taking long strides to catch up.

“What happens now?” Stan asks, his fingers brush against yours as you walk side by side.

“My aunt’s moving here, so I’m staying,” you don’t turn to look at him, scared to face more disappointment.

You stop walking when you two reach the kissing bridge, not that you expected anything to happen, but it was a nice view. You look down to see the small S inside the heart you carved earlier in the year, it sits near Richie’s R + E. You absentmindedly rub your wrist, Henry had grabbed you so hard he bruised you when he caught you with his missing switchblade. But it was worth it, in twenty or thirty years from now those markings would still be there, your own little mark on history.

“I’m glad,” Stan says it so quietly he doesn’t think you’ll hear him, but you do. You glance up at him and immediately frown as you get a better look at the bandages wrapped around his face. It takes you back to the day in the sewers, the day he yelled at you.

“Stan!” you scream in fear as you wade through the grey water. Your heart is pounding in your chest, this can’t be happening! You can’t lose him, not Stan. One minute he was with the group and the next he's gone. “What if IT got him?” your voice shakes in fear.

“You can’t think like that,” Richie says firmly, but you can hear the fear in his voice.

Before you can respond you hear a scream, one eerily familiar to when you pulled Stan off the ledge at the quarry. “Stan!” you scream again as you run past your friends through the dark smelly sewers to find the curly haired boy that you care for.

You reach the closed door at the end of the tunnel, opening the rusty metal on your own thanks to the adrenaline rush. Your friends' screams of Stanley get louder as they catch up to you. All six of you rush through the door and look for Stan in the large underground room. You walk around and come face to face with the creepy women from the painting he hates eating his face. A strangled sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper escapes your mouth, alerting your friends that you found him.

“What the fuck is that?” Richie asks as Eddie shines Stan’s discarded flashlight at the thing. The multiple rows of teeth finally let go of Stan and the lady looks at the lot of you.

“Get off of him!” you scream, reaching down beside you and grabbing a rusty pipe. You chuck the metal at the creature smacking it in the middle of the face, it opens its mouth and hisses at you before retreating.

You all breathe a small sigh of release, until Pennywise peeks his head out from behind the corner. All six of you let out high pitched screams, but all you can think about is Stan’s safety not your own. As Pennywise hides behind the corner again you run and drop to your knees at Stan’s side, the rest of the boys quickly following suit. You reach out and touch his arm, muttering his name in a soft calming voice, but all he does is scream in terror.

“Get off me!” he pushes six pairs of hands off of him as he scrambles away from you and the rest of the losers club. “You left me! You took me to Neibolt! You aren’t my friends!”

“Stan, we were looking for you. We were so worried, I was so worried,” your hand gently touches his cheek, trying to see how much physical damage IT had caused.

“Get away from me!” he glares at you as he smacks your hand away from him. “You're no better than Henry! Worse than him! You tricked me into being your friend just so you could hurt me!”

You rip yourself away from the curly haired boy so fast you fall flat on your ass as you try to move away. You gasp and tears fill your eyes, Bill’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder. He had been with you at Neibolt, he saw that your fear was Henry. Your feelings for Stan were obvious, so the accusations made the rest of the boys angry at Stan for hurting you. Tears fall quickly from your cheeks as you stand and back away from the group. You need to get out of there, away from Stan, away from the pain.

The rest of the losers back away from their friend and get ready to search for their favorite redhead. You all find Bev quickly, and you smirk as Ben kisses her to wake her up. Pennywise soon appears, attacking Bill first, the rest of you try to fight the clown but it doesn’t work.

“Let him go!” Bev’s plea reminds you of yours from earlier.

“No, I’ll take him” IT shakes its head with a grin. The killer clown explains to the group how it will eat your flesh as it feasts on your fears. “I’ll take him and only him,” IT offers.

“Leave,” Bill begs the losers.

“I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown,” Richie complains. “Welcome to the losers club asshole!” he screams, hitting Pennywise in the face with a discarded baseball bat.

Chaos erupts, everyone grabs for a weapon to fight the clown with. As everyone starts attacking IT with the garbage they found, IT manages to slip away. You all decide, stupidly, to split up and look for Pennywise.

“Good morning sunshine,” Henry’s annoying voice whispers into your right ear, dialogue straight from an incident where he almost seriously injured you. “Dad’s not home.” You can hear the smirk in IT’s voice.

“This isn’t real! You aren’t Henry! You aren’t real!” you scream, the losers stop their search for the clown and watch on nervously.

“It’s time to play sis!” IT laughs like a maniac as he walks in front of you, you're forced to stare up into IT’s eyes. Pennywise steps closer so you step back, which you do again and again. A replica of Henry’s switchblade pops open and is pointed directly at your gut. “Daddy dearest isn’t home to stop me!”

“Go through with it! Do it! Do what the real Henry never had the guts to do!” you scream at your brother- well Pennywise. He has you backed into a wall, switchblade dully pushing into you just above your navel. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you pant, angry tears mixing with the heartbroken ones from earlier as you stare defiantly at the thing that had been after you and your friends all summer.

IT backs away slowly, your brothers-Pennywise’s- head tilting to the side as he studies you. A grin too large to be humanly possible splits across Henry’s face, rows of teeth on display as IT laughs in delight. You see your friends inching closer to you and the clown, you make eye contact with Richie giving him a slight shake of your head. He sighs in defeat, grabbing both Stan and Eddie pulling them back, the rest of the losers halt when they realize what the trashmouth did.

“You were easy to crack,” IT giggles loudly, shifting back into a clown. IT lifts a hand up, finger tracing your cheek down to your throat, stopping directly over your artery.

“Take me and leave my friends alone!” you glare up at IT.

As the clown goes to open its mouth, Ben comes out of nowhere and stabs IT right in the back. The rest of the losers start attacking IT again, the clown shifts from fear to fear in hopes of getting one of the losers to stop. It shifts to Bev’s father, so she stabs a rusty rod right down IT’s throat in order to make him go away. The clown convulses and backs away from the group.

“That’s why you didn’t kill (Y/N) and Bev, because they weren’t afraid of you!” it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Bill not stutter. “We aren’t afraid of you. Now it’s your turn to be afraid, because you’ll starve.” IT flips itself into a hole that leads lower into the sewer system, letting go and disintegrating before Bill can whack IT with a pipe.

You all stare in shock for a few moments before making your way out of the sewers and towards your homes. The losers all talking amongst themselves, all but you. you’re ahead of the group, wanting to put as much distance between you and Stan as you possibly can. Eddie too, he had already asked what you meant while Pennywise was still Henry. Two conversations you definitely didn’t want to have.

“(Y/N/N)? You okay?” Stan’s distant and worried voice breaks you out of your memories. “Where were you just now?”

“I’m fine,” you lie and he can tell by the flash of pain that crosses your face. “Just thinking about the other day.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Stan frowns, turning away from the carvings on the wood to face you fully. “I wasn’t in the right head space-”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, fingers gently running over the S carved into the wood.

“No it isn’t,” he says firmly, you look at him with wide eyes. You weren’t expecting him to get so serious about it. “IT messed with my head, made me see things that weren’t true and I took it out on you.”

“Stan, I get it. IT knew how to hurt us most,” you reach over and lightly wrap your hand around his in a reassuring gesture. He stares down at your joined hands for a moment, ears turning a vibrant red, before continuing with his explanation.

“He showed me a vision of you and Bill kissing,” Stan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours.

“What-” you’re eyebrows furrow as you watch his face grow from pink to red.

“I like you, (Y/N). A lot. And when IT showed me that it broke my heart. Deep down I knew it wasn’t real, but it felt so real. I’ve liked you since the beginning of the school year, and I never had the guts to tell you. Because why would you like me? You could have any guy, how could you ever possibly want me-” you cut him off by gently pressing your lips to his. It’s a soft and fast peck, but you still pull away smiling. “What?”

“I like you too, you loser. For just as long, I was scared to say anything because of Henry,” you giggle at his shock, mouth open and eyes wide. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

“Speaking of Henry,” Stan’s mouth snaps shut before his lips pull into a deep frown. “What did you mean back in the sewers?” You sigh, not wanting to admit it allowed. Stan pushes a strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek gently.

“Henry thought I broke his Atari, so he screamed at me endlessly and threatened to kill me,” you admit softly, rage and sadness battle within Stan’s eyes as he takes in the information. “It wasn’t the first time he threatened that, but it seemed different that time. My dad had no idea, he only heard some of the yelling, which he screamed at Henry for doing. So that made Henry even more mad at me. But anyway, it turns out that it was Belch that broke it.”

“(Y/N),” Stan says softly, pulling you into his embrace. “I’ll never let anyone else hurt you.”

“Promise?” you ask hopefully, could you really finally be happy?

“I promise,” he kisses your forehead softly. “I know this isn’t great timing, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to,” you grin at him, gently caressing the bandages as you pull him in for another kiss.

tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny

#Stan the man #stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris imagine #stan uris x reader #it fanfiction #it #it chapter one #it chapter two #stan uris fanfiction #stan uris imagine #stan uris one shot #stanley uris one shot #stanley uris x reader #it 2017 #it 2019 #the losers club #the losers club x reader #stanley uris fanfiction

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beepbeepdespair · 3 years

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Four out of 26 for the challenge done, I'm actually being productive. Crazy. Anyway here's Q for Quirrel with bonus knight/ghost/whatever you call the mc

Local child receives headpats, is very confused about it

I now feel like I've cropped this too closely but whatever lmao-

I feel like I'm getting a little better at art but only a little because this took two tries to get right. It was really fun to do which is good because it distracted me from owners-of-a-uterus problems, might do another one in a second but not sure who yet

Oh yeah bonus drawing!! It's just a dumb doodle of the jester I did during online class, yes I am aware he's not red I only had a switchpen which had no purple on it so it was all I could do

It's based on that thing with grandpappy jack's glasses where the player with the glasses dies and everyone else goes insane and they get the googly eyes, it's also a reference to when cats' eyes go big and they start acting really stupidly lmao

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sparkmender · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE: MUN & MUSE

Fill out & Repost ♥ This meme definitely favors Canons more, but I hope OC's still can make it somehow work with their own lore and Lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multimuses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

Tagged by: @ifthearmorfits -- thank you opo!!

MY MUSE IS. canon / oc / au (...in-canon au, because transformers) / canon-divergent / fandomless

(I will be getting into spoiler territory with this, but given that you all are following this blog, you’ve probably stuck around long enough to already see what’s up haha.)

is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? WELL… / NO / IDK. (evidently a lot of people have it bad for the nerd but I don’t do NSFW on tumblr, so lol)

is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

are they underrated? YES / NO.

were they relevant to the main story? YES / NO.

were they relevant to the main character? YES / NO.

are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

how’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. (Given Rung’s quantum forgotten status WHO KNOWS)

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

Putting it bluntly: Functionist alt. dimension Rung has a whole lot of plot holes. Swiss cheese boy. I’ve made liberal changes here and there so that he can play with a majority of muses in the MTMTE/LL community, but I’ve also taken a lot of free reign giving Rung’s general lack of backstory in-between spoiler/plot beats :P

SELL YOUR MUSE! (aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.)

Rung is a very rare type of character, being an ostensibly ‘masculine’ character (in regards of a human binary lens) who prides himself on empathy, understanding, and caring for others’ physical and mental wellbeing in ways that often linger in more ‘feminine’ realms (again, in approx. to the human binary); it interests me to be able to explore such concepts in a territory where, considering lore and implied history, there’s no societal concept of (human ideal culturally-imposed) gender. He’s a creator ‘deity’, he literally produces souls, but nothing about his design is meant to emphasize a human sense of reproduction/fertility/etc. Most people would never look at him and conclude who and what he is. There’s also the fact that he’s been methodically documented, experimented on, taken apart, and then tortured for approx. 2 million years and yet he refused to let that break him. Rung is unflinchingly kind, willing to reach a hand out to anyone who needs a shoulder to lean on even when he has nothing of his own to offer. Hell, he studied medicine and philosophy so he could build the foundations for the Cybertronian method of behavioral psychology because even without memories of being Primus, Rung wants to take care of his creations. ...And then you add in how absolutely adorable it is to watch this old man dodder about with his puzzles and models and big googly glasses and I love him so much okay--

NOW THE OPPOSITE! (list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

To be honest, Rung can be kind of a Mary Sue/over powered character in some people’s eyes. Like, what, this random character who’s new to the franchise and made specifically by the author is actually Transformers God who suffered amnesia? And is friendly and polite to everyone but also has a streak of keeping a grudge and survives literal untold horrors because his body can just heal itself?? And he spits out crystals that make up sparks??? OH AND HE’S MILLIONS OF YEARS OLD AND DID I MENTION HE’S GOD SOMEHOW AND THEN HE STRAIGHT UP JUST DIES TWICE IN CANON, WOW

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?

H,,,, Him round,,,,,,,, No really I just loved his design that much. Him round. Also both my mom and my granddad are shrinks so I have, like, a basic grasp on psych stuff after reading through their textbooks and watching my granddad’s old research films and study tapes, so it was familiar territory I settled on writing Functionist!Rung in specific because I sympathize with having weird + painful medical shit inflicted on you all the time and because the idea of someone so genuine and careful being the core of a revolutionary movement is really,,, makes my heart squeeze.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?

hell if I know I’m just kinda here forever lmao

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO. needs more weird eldritch tech woogies but I’m terrified of alienating people

do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO. (mostly as they get yoinked by the fandom at large and then my notifications break my phone)

do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.

do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES (to an extent because I write a lot of different muses and I’m constantly making/doing/playing something to keep my hands busy, so it’s inevitable) / NO.

are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?

Criticism is the best way to grow as a creator, tbh, but I will say I think the biggest complaint is just how goddamn slow + forgetful I am hahaha,,

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?

Sure! I have a tags specifically for weird Cybertronian biology quirks and for Rung just rambling about things, and it’s fun to get to reveal bits and pieces of the backstory I’ve created for him.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?

........I mean lmao you can tell me why you disagree but at the end of the day this is my personal portrayal of a specific version of a character who only shows up for like three issues of a 70+ issue long comic series.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?

There are several other fantastic Rung writers out there each with their own interpretations and understandings of the character, so like. Godspeed. Go, find the god your heart desires, and whatnot.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?

Do you hate my portrayal of Rung, or just Rung in general?? I know a few people who just straight up dislike any version of Rung at all, so there’s that.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?

English hard, hebrew and yiddish and spanish and romanian and german only. More seriously I was raised in an extremely weird house where English was the primary language but I was being taught by older people who never remembered which language they were using at the time. My first word was Mickey Mouse. I don’t know what’s happening. I went to art college. Please be gentle with me, sir.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?

Oh most likely. There’s only like... one or two things I will go out of my way to discourage or avoid + I’m generally just kinda here to make other people happy haha

#ooc|moon above

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

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Day One - When in Vegas

Prompt: future!au

It’s cutting it close, but here is my first contribution to @spideychellemonth! I’m gonna try my darndest to keep up, but I’m so excited for this guys!!

This is potentially going to be multi-chapter, mostly because it was getting too long and I was having just TOO MANY IDEAS lmao Let me know what y’all think! This is also based off of an idea an anon sent me a week or so ago about a marriage pact!AU that i just LOVED the idea for

Basically, the 1.7k Waking Up Married in Vegas!AU nobody asked for pls enjoy! <3

Fuck.

It’s the first semi-coherent thought that pops into MJ’s head as she’s dragged into a sluggish state that can barely be described as consciousness. Her eyes, feeling as if they might fall right out of her skull, squeeze shut in an effort to stop the sun’s merciless assault. The groan that leaves her mouth as she turns away from the window is almost inhuman, her tongue heavy and dry, throat feeling as if she’d just swallowed barbed wire. If she moves too much, she’s sure whatever concoction of last night’s activities currently residing in her stomach are going to end up on the floor.

Three gin and tonics, two vanilla screwdrivers, and a few too many—who was counting, really?—shots of tequila seemed like an okay idea last night, at least past-MJ thought.

That was a problem for future-MJ.

Future-MJ hates past-MJ.

It was true, it was all true, she reflects as her stomach gurgles violently, lurching into the back of her throat.

It’s a simple explanation, really.

Over time, the enzymes required to metabolize all that booze have started to weaken, no longer breaking down toxins with the same vigor, leaving the elusive acetaldehyde to roam free.

In other words, she’s thirty.

Gone were the glory days where she could drink the night away and wake up with just a mild headache. The days where she could have as many different cocktails as her heart desired and not wake up feeling like death itself. The days where she could drink just one glass of pinot noir and not feel like an angry bull is stomping on his hippocampus.

But it had been Ned’s 30th, one of her best friends since high school, a real cause for celebration. They were in Vegas, for crying out loud. Sin City. What was she supposed to do?

Not drink?

(Well, yeah. That would have been ideal.)

But where was the fun in that?

Her hand brushes across her bare stomach, and she realizes with a small start that she’s naked.

She’s not sure if she’s ever been more confused.

Come to think of it, she’s not sure she even knows what happened last night. There’s flashes, very brief flashes of club music, Grey Goose, way too much glitter, and a lot of highly questionable, dumbass financial decisions involving slot machines and poker games.

She’s pretty sure she’s still alive, about 62%, but she’s also fairly certain that her brain has been replaced with cotton and sewing needles. An ache that starts right around her knees shoots up her spine, radiating throughout her body as she pulls the blanket tighter around her and buries her puffy face into the pillow.

When she realizes that any chance of sleep is gone for good, and that she can’t just will this splitting headache away with her own mind, she cracks an eye open. She immediately regrets that decision as soon as the harsh sunlight hits, shaking her head, throwing her arm out in some kind of half-assed effort to fight it off.

Her heart nearly stops when her hand hits something soft and warm next to her. She yanks her hand back, eyes shooting open to see someone—a man—face down in the mattress, head of chocolate brown waves turned away from her. A rather uncalled for heat swarms her body as her gaze drifts to his exposed back and lingers on the taut muscles there, drifting lower, the thin stop-sheet just barely covering the curve of his—

What the hell happened last night?

But dread starts to mix with the nausea gripping at her stomach as she realizes something about the naked mystery man in her bed.

She knows that curly mop of brown hair.

Immediately, she shoots up from the bed, gripping the sheet against her chest.

A big mistake.

The nausea finally wins the battle, and she runs to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up as she empties the toxic contents of her stomach into the toilet.

It’s a wonder Peter doesn’t wake up from her violent retching.

She forces out a harsh exhale as she flushes down the remnants of her night out, hand reaching out to grip the bathroom counter as she rises on shaky legs. She grabs the complimentary bathrobe—how fancy—and shrugs it on before turning to the sink to splash ice cold water onto her face.

And that’s when she sees it.

The gaudy, cheap, obviously fake rock sitting smugly on her left ring finger, staring right back at her slack-jawed expression.

What the fuck?!

It all comes back to her.

They’d been so, so incredibly dumb.

Both of them.

Peter looks stupid good.

He always has, of course, she wasn’t blind.

But his late-twenties seemed to have been incredibly kind to him. He still had that boyish charm she’d always secretly liked, but now… now there was just something about him, standing under these neon casino lights, wearing a plain black suit with a white tee underneath, that brought back years and years of repressed high school feelings.

Mutual feelings that neither of them ever acted on. Only joked about.

They would never have worked as a couple, they’d always say.

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

So they both moved on. It was high school. They still had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

Plus, the risk of ruining their solid friendship was just too great.

So why, after nearly twelve years, is she having to actively fight back the stupid fluttering of butterflies when he so much as glanced in her general direction?

It makes no sense.

It isn’t like they haven’t seen each other since high school. Yeah, it’s been a few months since they last caught up, both of them being too busy with work and the like, but...

They were still friends—best friends, even.

She blames it on the second gin and tonic.

Yes, it’s the warm buzz of the alcohol running through her body that’s making her feel like she’s pretty damn close to walking on air.

And she chases that feeling, returning again and again to the bar—sometimes with Peter, himself—giving up on actually counting her drinks after the first shot of tequila.

Tequila was clearly not her friend in this case.

It could also have been the fact that she’s freshly single and she’s had to witness Ned and, now fiancèe Betty, making googly eyes at each other one too many times, and it’s entirely possible that she’s just feeling that creeping loneliness she’d tried so hard to stamp down.

She doesn’t know how they get here, maybe it’s somewhere between her second shot and her first screwdriver, but they’re alone in a booth in the corner. For the first time in a while, her liquid courage doesn’t help stave off the pressure of trying to come up with something cool to say, and she feels, once again, like she’s back in high school.

It’s an incredibly frustrating feeling.

Peter ducks as he sees Ned looking for him, MJ snickering as she watches the whole ordeal. Ned’s drunkenly leading this poor, unassuming casino patron around, glancing around frantically as he wanders from room to room.

Odds are it’s just another person to try and hook Peter up with.

Ned means well, he truly does, but frankly, Peter’s a little tired of the constant matchmaking. Yes, he’s been the perpetually single friend for a number of years now, but he seemed to be pretty content on his own.

And plus, he and MJ are having a pretty good time by themselves.

He doesn’t need anyone else.

“But, Pete,” MJ starts, words slurring ever-so-slightly, tone laced with sarcasm. “Everyone knows that being single in your thirties is one of the most shameful things in existence. It’s barbaric. You need to settle down, before it’s too late.”

He throws his head back, letting out an exaggerated laugh. “You’re right. My good years are gone.”

She tsks, shaking her head. “Past your prime.”

“I’ve truly peaked.” He tips his glass to her, before taking a drink.

A smirk tugs at her lips. “What will you do now?”

“Well...” He laughs lightly, casually stirring the glass in his hand. He looks up at her, eyes glazed over, tilting his head as he fixes her with a fond, teasing smile. “We still have that pact.”

Ah, yes.

The pact.

The pact that they’d made—as a joke—when they were sixteen.

It was simple.

If they were both single at thirty, they’d get married.

That was the deal.

They even shook on it.

But, official as that simple handshake was at the time for two hormonal teenagers, it wasn’t something that was ever in any universe supposed to be taken seriously.

Maybe it was just a ring, though. Maybe they didn’t get actually, legitimately, legally get married. They couldn’t have been that dumb.

Or maybe this was some sick hangover hallucination her brain made up as punishment for drinking too much.

The rest of the night is a blur, brief glimpses of drunken giggles, his hand in hers flashing through her mind. She vaguely remembers going somewhere outside the casino with him, stumbling through the streets as they pull each other along, bright lights dancing above them.

Balloons everywhere.

A corny chapel.

A Tony Stark impersonator.

Her expression is oddly calm, a contrast to the utter horror she feels in her gut as she stares at the sparkling ring on her finger.

This isn’t that bad, she thinks. This can all be over in a matter of hours.

An annulment was easy, right?

Right?

It’s not like they had sex or anything—

Wait, no, fuck, they did.

Did they…?

Again, the later part of the night is fuzzy.

Another wave of nausea crashes into her before she has a chance to be confused, and in an instant, she’s hunched over the toilet again.

And it’s while she’s puking her guts out, while she’s praying that the naked guy in her bed stays asleep where he’s supposed to be, does a boxer-clad-Peter step into the bathroom. He looks almost as wrecked as she is, his hair in wild disarray, bags under his eyes giving Gollum a run for his money.

He hesitates, knocking gently on the doorframe. “MJ—?” At first, he looks as though he’s about to ask her why she’s in his hotel room, but his expression crumples into one of worry when he sees how sick she is. “Are you okay?”

She scoffs and gives him a weak glance over her shoulder, ready to throw a biting, sarcastic remark back at him, when she sees the way the color drains from his face.

He’s frozen in place, eyes wide, and she hesitantly follows his gaze, right onto that big, fake diamond on her finger.

Fuck.

#spideychelle #petermj #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker #michelle jones #spiderman #spider-man #vegas!au #spideychellemonth2k19 #woooooo #celebrate!!!#part 2???#eh???

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straykats · 4 years

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cle: levanter

kat’s thoughts on the album that no one asked for (insert that weird googly eyed emoji with tongue out)

stop

i’ve always loved intro tracks because (most of the time) they give you a taster of every track on the album??

felix’s rap reminds me of his rap in ?? ? ??? miroh ??? i think (off the top of my heads) the rhythm is incredibly similar, only a few variations in beat

changbin and hyunjins rap section also reminds me of their rap in miroh

it’s actually really weird to me that stop is the first song on this album, and sO many of its sounds and stuff is super similar to Miroh??? which (if im not mistake) is the first in the cle series??? maybe someone can make a theory out of this idk lol

double knot

okay this is obvs not my first reaciton and opinions to it but yknow what lets hear them anyways lmao

i’ve always loved the glass shaterring and rope sound

also maybe im biased but minho’s single lines are actually so nice

oh but this version on the album is ot8 vers,, makes sense, ig but :(

i love how it ends as well, with the glasss shattering

levanter

only half way through did i realise that this is the second/third time i’ve heard it bc i watched the mv already lmao

minhos lines got me teary eye emoji (im on my laptop rn i cant emoji)

i fucking LOVE the falsetto prechorus, and then how it leads into a full chorus with all of them

also like the lyrics got me emo

the bass

IN THE CHORUS “i wanna be myself” you can hear ?? im gonna assume its felix but his really deep voice as backing vocals. its super far back

omg the bit in changbins rap when the pull back a lot of the sounds and its just the bass drum thing

elecrtic gUITAR HECKAS YEAH

i love the ?? ? sound distribution in the chorus (with earphones) bc the main vocal is center but when its chantyed you hear it from all surround?

as a music student i should know my terms better but oh well

i love the instrumental in the dance break

the instrumental at the end is also so amazing, the way everythihng is suddenly pulled out and the vocal hands for a split second

booster

i love the bass thingy

almost mimics the “da dada da” thing in double knot

oo hyunjin to minho sounds so nICE i think thats them anyways

“oooh ohh oh oh “ fucking LOVE

build up in prechorus is very booster

yES we have a bass drop after pulling everything out

omg the second ?? loop time section of the chorus, the bass drop is held back and it’s??? almost on beat two but it’s not on two it’s just before ??? i think ??? but it’s not on the “and” of one either

i love the vocals in the bg of the chorus too

transition into hyunjins rap is funky (not literally) i love it

theres a ticking sound (wHaTs ThAt MysTerIOuS tIcKInG nOISE) and its a metronome i think (also im lacking the counting ability but is it ticking 12312345123... ???)

and the warp iNTO JISUNGS i think HECKAS YEAH THAT WAS SO COOL

i love the nokia sounding bloop sound (idk how to describe it) in the prechorus

hOhoho christmas came early with that wavering ??? keys sound im losing my musical terms

the “speed it uuuuUUUUUUP” section reminds me of nct but idk how lmao

god i love booster sm

astronaut

i didn’tnotice it before but felix backing vocals too!!!

i used to dislike the beginning bc the keys come in a split second before he vocals but i kinda love it now hehe

this sound really makes me smile

theres something about the mixing in this song ??? reminds me of levanter. idk how to explain it

oh there’s echo/reverb on all the vocals

i love hyunjin’s IDK KOREAN but the two words he repeays

the bit at the end of changbinsrap tbh transitions funny into the prechorus ?? it’s like space guns pewpew idk how to explain it, it bounces between my ears super quick

“aYe”

bass drum w lix’s section sounds so nice,

that whole thing chan and lix said in chan’s room about this song making you jump around

sunshine

i love it sO FUCKING MUCH

the sample of just street wsounds i love it i love it i lOVE IT

THE CHORD PROGRESSION IS SO WEIRD NOT REALLY

arpeggiator thing that reminds me of ??? idk what its called ??? night owl or smth on samsung AHAHAH

oi love how everything is slowly but quickly added in

guys i love this song so much

the falsetto w plucky synth sounds ?? yum

i love the soft falsettos throughout

idk what to say this is such a nice song

oH THE DESCENDING SOUNDS in the second (?) progression and its minor ??? i think there was already a lot of minor things but it jsut became more obvious

ooooo sustained chords in prechorus heckas yeah

the sound that rings out in the left ear ??? yum

tHE SILENCE and then the bass boooOOoomm that was so nice im in love with sound rn

this song reminds me of winter/autumn and the rays of sunshine peeking through

you can stay

same keys as 4419 but muted??

felix and kickdrum is literally my kink rn

this makes me warm

chano :(((

magical glitter chimes make me feel like im floating through space or glittery tea

this song really does give me 4419 vibes

i love the build up and transition into the chorus

chan’s “you can stay, yeah” is making me so emo but its so calming and reassuring

god fucking i love this song so much too

the zweeeep sound hehe

oh shit the end of the bridge has me so emo

i also really love the “oh oh ohoh oh”

omg noooo the end is all of them im gonna cry im gonna cRY

the end has the same energy as mixtape2 i really am oging to cry oh no

i think the end of this song is really effective as the last song on the (online) album and to the cle series bc it really has a “closing the curtains” feel

in a nutshell:

i love this album so much omg it may or may not be on shuffle forever

i ??? actually love booster, you can stay, and sunshine so much?? unless its just bc theyre the “newest”

i love skz hehe im cry now goodbye

#cle: levanter #kat talks levanter #♡

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kintsugiscars-archive · 5 years

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE. laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paintbrushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides [ to children ]. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. dishevelled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armour that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil-covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted-up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES. devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. storm with skin. colourful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

HADES. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. an aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare - filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by. saw @doustadig do it and i really like aesthetic posts lmao tagging. anyone who wants to!

#ooc; deep sea {misc ooc}#ic; clear skies {aesthetic}#ooc; until we meet again {queue}

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hwaniao · 5 years

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE. laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

DEMETER. soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

POSEIDON. storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare - filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by. stole it from my other blog lmao tagging. (chanting) steal it steal it steal it

#( treading on the moon and clouds — aesthetic )#[ strikethrough'd ones are those that apply to the modern verse exclusively ]#[ i just realized that tumblr posts can't be underlined..... ]

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svnthstnd-blog · 5 years

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERMES. devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything.�� meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

TAGGED BY: I swiped this some time ago lmao TAGGING: Swipe it from me because I can’t remember who likes to do these for the life of me kjhgfdfg

#✎▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░*:･ﾟ✧⯏ | ( study )#long post

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angelfccdie · 5 years

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Bold what applies to your muse. Italicize what partially applies to your muse.

APHRODITE . laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO . glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES . armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS . keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA . discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER . soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS . drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theater masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS . the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA . resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under “fuck it”. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES . devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON . storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS . thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare- filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. highrise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by: jfjfiea;g i stole it from myself after stealing it from someone else lmao

#;dash games #oof i want to do this for roh too #huffs #why do i have so many muses #who let me do that

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