🐭 • Listen lad, I’m not someone of picking of what people do with their blogs or lives (because that’s none of my business, I’m too passive for that stuff), but people that project quite too much into their canon muses while roleplaying and admit it with zero hesitance are a huge turnoff to me, I cannot interact with that kind of user.
I have no issue with people relating to their muses, especially if it’s their OCs, really, despite having had my fair share of nightmarish experiences with people that do so, but one thing is, Idk, breaking your foot and wanting to write about an scenario in which your muse breaks their foot too (to see where that leads to), and then there’s the folk that seem to hide their self-inserts behind a canon character to the point of not being able to tell if they will get angry of you OOC for doing something IC or not.
Maybe if these were AU canon muses I would not have a problem with it, because AUs are free real state, but that is usually not the case. There’s nothing I can do about it other than walking past it so why give it the time of my day at a writting choice??
In case you are wondering: no, if I write a character I do it because I wanna see that character in many more scenarios than what canon offers me, I think I have only related to one-two muses in the 6 years I have been on this community.
Being in charge of the school theater meant he tended to spend a bit of the day there on some weekdays. So it wasn’t a surprise he was here now, even though there were no theater classes this period. Humming, still looking over the schedule and the try outs for the upcoming casting... he starts to sing.
“I've been waitin' such a long, long, long time to feel it
Swallowed by the waters around me
Though I took so many wrong, wrong, wrong turns to see it, woah~”
That was one of the good things about the auditorium, it had such great acoustics for this, allowing his voice to travel nicely throughout it.
“But I dance through the blisters at night
And I laughed 'til I cried and cried
And I ran 'til my feet couldn't run no more~”
He wouldn’t have caught the sound of someone coming in even if he had been listening for it. It didn’t matter.
“And I sang 'til my lungs were burnin'
'Til I know I'm alive, alive, yeah I'll sing 'til I can't hear words no more~”
‘ i don’t know how to tell you this , but i’m dying . i mean , we’re all dying , slowly . when you think about it , we started dying the day we were born . ’
The Good Place
“I mean... you’re not wrong.” Kenny only wished “started dying the day we were born” hadn’t been taken quite so literally for himself.
There was one particular Christmas memory Kenny deeply cherished and kept especially close to his heart. Way back in second grade, his friends had all gotten brand new sleds for Christmas- among other things. Kenny, as usual, received just a single gift. It was a pair of used gloves with a hole in one of the fingers. Not a toy, not brand new or even very good, but he excitedly put them on nonetheless. They were warmer than the mittens he’d been using since he was a toddler and he marveled at the fact he now had full mobility with his fingers.
The gloves were perfect, because Kenny and the others had all decided to meet up at one of the tallest hills in South Park. All the boys had asked for sleds, and though Kenny figured he wouldn’t get one, he’d prepared.
So when he showed up at the hilltop with his beat up trash can lid, ready to show off his newest acquisition, he was surprised to see four sleds instead of just three. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it at first, wondering if perhaps the other boys had invited a fifth person to join them. Thankfully, his friends had an amazing level of patience for seven year olds (or at least, Stan and Kyle did). They assured him that yes, the orange sled lined up with all of their own was his.
Apparently having realized the low likelihood of Kenny actually getting a sled for Christmas, they’d pitched in their allowances and gotten him one. It was their Christmas present to him. And it was beautiful. It was one of the first and only times Kenny had ever cried in front of them, and for a while they teased him ruthlessly for it.
But he didn’t care. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, and to this day, he has that sled tucked away beneath his bed.
~*~
“Grandma got run over by a reindeer...”
Kenny listened to the cheery jingle playing from a nearby storefront. He was honestly a little surprised he had managed to live this long, but then, perhaps the universe was feeling especially cruel.
“Walking home from our house Christmas Eve...”
It certainly wasn’t every day he got trampled and run over. Nor was it usually this festive. He wondered if Santa had taken notice at all, or if he’d just thought Kenny was another speed bump; a particularly compacted snow drift. He certainly wasn’t paying him any mind now- no one was. But, that was normal.
“You can say you don’t believe in Santa...”
Everyone was so excited that jolly old Saint Nick had dropped by for a Christmas visit. Kenny had been excited too, hearing the jingling of bells and hearty “ho ho ho.” Then his head was smashed into the snow, and his bones broke like toothpicks beneath the hefty weight of Santa’s sleigh. He wasn’t even cold anymore, at this point. His blood on the snow was probably the same color as the polished icon concealing his body from view.
“But as for me and grandpa, we believe.”
He envied grandma. At least for her, someone believed.
“Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just—”
Soft Starters ( accepting )@thecoffeelad
🎔ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈;;– It wasn’t like he meant to, but it was a reaction of instinct when Tweek went for his bangs. His hand came up and gripped Tweek’s wrist gently. He’d kept his eye hidden for a while– Even though he knew that his scar was just about common knowledge to his fellow classmates, he didn’t want it to be seen after his last appointment. It still needed to heal over a little bit.
‘ I–I’m sorry if it’s bugging you, Tweek. But today isn’t a good day to have my whole face in the open. P–Please understand. ‘
🐭 • Me talking about eating habits and stuff?? Me talking about eating habits and stuff, I will try to get to the point and not ramble much for once (headcanons make me ramble).
Despite growing up in a very poor household, barely having to eat on a daily basis (which explains why does he look notoriously thin when compared to other kids), you are not British if you cannot have your daily cup of 5 ‘o clock tea, which he did have no matter the scarcity in food. Sweet flavors weren’t an option because of this (unless it was a very special occasion), but builder’s tea was, and so Pip is more used to strong and bitter flavors more than your average kid, but he is also pretty neutral towards food as long as he gets to eat (this out of habit).
Even if he is able to afford for much better tea nowadays he still drinks the same exact brew he used to do back in England, all for the sake of nostalgia and not losing that touch. He is still pretty neutral towards food, he will eat most things and not be picky, but when it comes to builder’s tea he is one adamant little chap.
Screw tar water, though, he used to be forced to drink it as medicine fairly often and now the mere mention of it makes him feel sick and nauseous.
Scott is diabetic, and so he must have a strict and controlled diet in order to be able to live a mostly-normal life. He is not a picky eater (although like most kids he prefers sweet things over bitter and sour things), to say the least, but being bound to this limitations makes him wanna rebel by eating as much as he can when its time for a meal (and anyone can tell because, while not being one of the fatest kids at school, he still puts up some weight). He’s got a sweet tooth, and if he could he would eat candy in bulk he would, but there is always someone there to stop him, mostly his mother or his neighbor/best friend.
Green apple is his favorite flavor, apple juice is his favorite flavor of juice, both being overly-sweet and capable of knocking him into a coma if he hasn’t had insulin in advance, but it is still something he has permission to eat/drink as it is easy to take with him when he goes to school or just outside in general.
He likes food, yes, but he has an absolute despise for strong smells and he hates black licorice with a burning passion because of this (the colorful ones are better anyways).
He plays in South Park’s local children’s basketball team, likes dancing and his adoptive parents have raised him eating all kinds of food, so Bradley lives an overall healthy lifestyle and has a fit bodytype for a fourth grader. Being raised with this focus on health, though, despite not having any restrictions that could stop him from doing so, has caused him to put a special focus and a general interest on meals, especially after so many presentations he has done about the importance of breakfast as the first meal of the day (which explains his obsession with cereal and breakfast products in general even before discovering that he had mint-and-berry superpowers).
He doesn’t count calories or anything like that, but he likes products that are predominantly made with or are cereal. It doesn’t matter if it’s sweet or has no flavor, if it has chocolate or is a fitness brand, this is just a kid that really digs cereal and could not be able to be friends with a celiac because of it. Actually, in general, his favorite meal of the day is breakfast and the only reason he would ever wake up early.
Skim milk is not real milk though, he has some self-respect when it comes to the milk he mixes his food with.
