#seventy six | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avathestarwarrior · 1 year

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*How 2 make a character Bio W/Ava!

Write name, Pronouns, Species, Job, and Backstory. Also add a drawing of your OC!

@teaciadoodleslol @sodastarpop @thatonekirbyfreak @paintedplum7 @azzie-tangerine

@kirbyoctournament

#ava the star warrior #kirby #kirby series #ava #seventy six #Quinn Purrsly #Shadow Fluff #Clario #kirbyoctournament #propaganda #Needs Emotional Support group

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kirbyoctournament · 1 year

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Poll Twenty-Seven, Round One

Twilight Knight

VS

Seventy Six

#twilight knight #seventy six #lycio #poll #kirby oc tournament

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alltimewhat · 8 months

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if you checked on this post in the past few weeks it was something other than this here's a new iteration. look at this instead of that poll:

everyone say hi paul

#personally i say seventeen seven seventy six #17776

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atomic-chronoscaph · 5 months

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Lee Majors as The Six Million Dollar Man and Lindsay Wagner as The Bionic Woman (1975)

#lee majors #lindsay wagner #the six million dollar man #the bionic woman #steve austin #jaime sommers #70s sci-fi #70s tv series #seventies #1975

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squarebracketsmileyface · 10 days

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Animation is so hard

I'm trying to make that "stick em up" tiktok trend where people hold up their pet like they're guns, and I'm trying to animate that as the Operator holding up Alex, but the trends already pretty much dead and I'm nowhere NEAR done 💀

I'm in hell

#seven years in the future im gonna finish and post the animation and everyones gonna be so confused #seriously tho. im only doing it at six frames per second. and for it to match up with the audio i need to do #76 frames. SEVENTY SIX #im in HELL #but its gonna be cute so i dont care #marble hornets #alex kralie #the operator

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cherievol6 · 1 year

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California Dreamin'

summer nights as an up and coming seventies rock band

word count: <1000

warnings: swearing, moustaches

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"Marco, if you don't stop messing with that needle-"

"I'm not!" Marco screeches in defence from behind his new porn stache, lifting his hands up in a surrendered position when Harry saunters over to his new record player and stands in front of it protectively. You giggle quietly at their behaviour, squinting as you watch the boys squabble from the patio doors. Harry had saved money from his first released record to buy this Technics player, so he was feeling precious about it. He'd only really let you fiddle with it, but you always saw him monitoring you over your shoulder.

Melanie stalks down the rich oak stairs in her new bootleg jeans she found in a small charity shop back home, her worn down guitar in hand and a notebook. She wrote the best songs on her oldest guitar. You'd said to Harry a few years ago that you believed everyone's instrument is supernaturally bound to them in some way. You were both pretty high at time.

"God, Melanie. I miss my jeans so much." You whine.

"As if you're not looking unbelievably sexy on that garden chair over there. Marco, here, come and get the gorgeous pregnant woman a drink, would you?" Melanie replies, leaning to kiss you on the cheek and propping her things on the cream sofas. She snatches her scarf from over the lamp in the living room and ties it around her neck.

"Is this gorgeous pregnant woman in the room with us?- Ow! I'm messing, you miserable old sod." Marco sends you a wink but is quickly reprimanded by a swat to the head by your man, who was intensely inspecting his Bowie vinyl for scratches. You quietly giggle, knowing yours and Marco's relationship was playful and unserious, though you really liked Harry's protectiveness.

"Talk bad about my missus again and I'll rip that monstrosity clean off." Harry points to Marco's moustache before patting his cheek heavily, looking over at you with a glint in his eye. You grin, pretending that didn't make you slightly turned on. You were pregnant, it was hard not to be turned on by anything Harry did. Especially when he was wearing his maroon corduroy trousers and just a tank top, cigarette hanging from his lips and a glass of whiskey in the other. Your hand rests over your bump covered by an airy white summer dress, and Harry looks at you from across the room like you hung every star in the sky.

Marco appears by your side with a cloudy lemonade and you smile, grabbing his hand in a thank you and shifting on your garden chair to feel more comfortable. Harry had rented this place for your stay in Malibu whilst you, him and the rest of the band wrote their new album, but sometimes you secretly wished you could live here forever. Large veranda doors that open wide to let the setting sun in, beautiful oak walls and avocado coloured marble on the kitchen floor. You could sit and write every day here.

"What's on your mind, my pretty lady?" Harry's deep voice is smooth like treacle in your ears. You glance over to where he's situating himself on the other outdoor chair, stubbing out his cigarette now that he's next to you. Opal coloured sunglasses cover his eyes, and his hair remains slightly more grown out than usual. He always looked like this when he wasn't doing shows, kind of rugged, rockstar-ish. You loved it.

"I love this house, so much." You breathe. He grasps your hand and kisses it softly, holding it there as he sighs contentedly, glancing over at the skyline and the sun creeping behind. An orange glow sets over the small house and you smile, observing Marco and Melanie trying to light the old barbecue that must have been at least ten years old. Harry's hand creeps up your leg under your white summer dress, slipping it over his knee so he can run his hand up and down - brushing over your ankles every so often.

"How the fuck do you where these when you're pregnant?" He fiddles with the strap of your brown wedged heels.

"Just 'cause I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't still dress nicely. You know, I found a column in the paper back home by this young'un called Sophie Clark. She writes little fashion pieces at college. She's dedicated a section to me every week. 'The stylish lead starlet of The Saffron'. I need to keep up appearances." You muse, fiddling with the large thin hoop earrings that Harry had gifted you just the day before.

He leans down and kisses your shin, before travelling his hand to your bump unconsciously. "I know. I read it sometimes when you're away at your writing sessions back home and I can't see you. Need to know what you're wearing so I can picture taking it off you--"

You give him a knowing look, and he closes his mouth immediately with a mischievous look. His hand moves in gentle circles over your stomach and you revel in the feeling. It quite literally could not get any better than this. A warm, summer evening in California, the smell of incense coming from inside the house. The hum of The Mamas and Papas travelling from the turntable speakers.

"We're gonna write some good shit here, guys." You inhale. Harry hums and reaches for his notepad on the ground next to the chair, flipping it open and writing something down pensively.

"You found a muse already?" You try and peek and he laughs, slamming the leather bound book shut and grabbing your hand to plant a kiss.

"Just feeling inspired. Entranced. In love." He murmurs and closes his eyes, "I've got all of my muse right here in my hand."

.

heyyyyy!!! so i've kind of created a new lil universe after watching daisy jones and falling into a hole of 70s obsessions again. lmk if you'd like more little blurbs from these characters. I introduce you to The Saffron. my own little seventies rock band.