#:/: headcanon

[belovedroach]

I like drawing Virgil a little too much and drawing specific headcanons even more

local emotionally repressed emo struggles to properly express affection

[isabelckl]

high school best friend!ellie headcanons — who sometimes made you feel like you two could be something

# ellie who you didn’t even notice at first—quiet in class, either asleep on her desk, sketching something or zoning out on her own when she's not with her group of friends.

# ellie who started talking to you after you helped her understand something in class, and then just kept finding reasons to come back.

# ellie who started walking home with you after that, separating from her group of friends like it was nothing—like choosing you was the easiest decision she’d ever made.

# ellie who was soft-spoken with everyone else, but loud and animated when she was with her friends—and then, with you too.

# ellie who always fixed your hair without asking, complimented your hair more often than anyone ever had, always casual but never careless.

# ellie who would say no to a plan—until she found out you were going, then she’d say, “I’ll come if you’re going.”

# ellie who noticed every time you disappeared from the group and would look for you until she found you.

# ellie who you slowed your steps for on purpose, just to see if she’d notice you weren’t beside her. she did. you smiled to yourself as she looked around with this slight panic, finding you in the crowd like the idea of losing you even for a second was unacceptable.

# ellie who stared like she didn’t care if you noticed—and made you the one who always had to look away.

# ellie who shared her umbrella with you but held it so far over your side that she ended up getting soaked.

# ellie who once you avoided—broke the silence by sitting beside you again and saying, “you don’t tell me stories anymore.” she noticed everything, even the things you didn’t say.

# ellie who you caught staring again, only this time she looked away fast—and for some reason, that rattled you more than all the times she didn’t.

# ellie who always got quiet when it was time for you to go, eyes soft, asking, ���already?”

# ellie who always asked you to come with her to the bathroom or walk with her to the store, even if you were doing something. like you were her default person. her favorite.

# ellie who—one afternoon when your dad came to pick you up—you were scared to look back at while walking to the car, afraid she wouldn’t be looking. but when you did, there she was. half-turned, walking backward down the road, watching you as you went. like she couldn’t help it.

# ellie who sat near you in class and stared like she was trying to memorize the shape of your face.

# ellie who looked at you even when you weren’t talking, even when you weren’t doing anything at all.

# ellie who played with your hair or your earrings or the threads on your sleeve, like being near you wasn’t quite enough.

# ellie who would let you draw silly doodles on her arm during class, never pulling away—just watching with this small smile like she’d wear whatever you gave her.

# ellie who always came to you for help in class—because you were the only one who could explain things in a way she actually understood, and maybe, because she just liked being near you too.

# ellie who would text you every time you missed a group hangout, just a simple “why aren’t you here?” like your absence made everything feel slightly off.

# ellie who once let you spoil an entire movie on the walk home and didn’t stop you, like hearing it from you was better than watching it herself.

# ellie who would quietly come stand beside you when you were busy, not saying a word—just waiting for you to notice her. like a little baby who didn’t know how else to ask for your attention.

# ellie who you could trade movie recommendations with for hours, who’d listen to you talk about yours with stars in her eyes—and when it was her turn, she’d shyly admit what she thought, like her opinion might ruin the moment.

# ellie who would always glance at you whenever someone teased her about another girl—and when you didn’t say anything, she’d quietly sit beside you like a toddler getting scolded, like she knew she’d done something wrong.

# ellie who tried to act cool during games, but couldn’t help the way her smile grew the second she heard you cheering from the sidelines.

# ellie who always dodged the question about who she liked, no matter how many times you answered it yourself—like there was something about the truth she wasn’t ready to hand over.

# ellie who you could talk to for hours without ever running out of things to say—conversation always easy, like you’d been finishing each other’s thoughts in another lifetime.

# ellie who would always reassure you when you doubted yourself, looking at you like you were already everything. “i’m your number one fan,” she’d say—and you believed her.

# ellie who would follow you anywhere, no questions asked—even when you told her to skip class with you. she’d grumble a little, but she’d still show up beside you, like she couldn’t help but go where you went.

# ellie who always had that look in her eyes whenever you were with someone else.

# ellie who’d run with you down the hallways after every exam, laughing breathlessly, already throwing out plans like, “wanna hang out after this?” before you even caught your breath.

# ellie who’d text or ask every single day during summer break, “when are you coming home?” like she couldn’t settle without knowing when she’d see you again.

# ellie who you hugged tight on graduation night, not wanting to let go just yet—who you drove around town with after, windows down, music loud, like if you kept driving, maybe nothing had to end.

[brownskincheyenne]

Yall im watching sinners on HBO Max and I CANNOT GET PAST THIS PART

Yall I’ve been rewinding and rewinding ughhhh … I think they was hunching forreal idc idc idc!!!! They way he was stroking and the way he chased after her kissing her neck & shoulder… his grip on her … DAMNNNN ‼️‼️‼️ …. I did notice how Mary called Sammie boy at that train station … yeaaaa Nawl !!

[pyxilate]

eat my polytrix headcanons

• Bi4bi4bi (they’re all cis but Rumi is intersex) • Zoey has a bit of an obsession with vampires. • Mira’s favorite movies are those trashy rom coms that could have ended an hour earlier if people were honest about their feelings • Zoey is a major horror enthusiast. also she adores nature documentaries • Rumi prefers reading over watching movies. Her favorite book genre is historical fiction. • Zoey’s favorite superhero is Black Widow. • They’re the holy trifecta: Zoey (autism), Rumi (Depression), and Mira (ADHD) •Zoey had a phase where she secretly wrote qpr polytrix whilst in denial about having a crush on her two friends. She also had a fluff & angst Zoestery phase. Now she just writes smut (200k word smut fics. Nobody knows when or where she finds the time. They’re also somehow ALL one shots??) •Before becoming a member of Huntr/x, Mira listened to KPop. This is how she somehow wound up an ENHYPEN fan •Rumi plays Minecraft in her spare time. Am i projecting, yes. Do i care? No. Also, hatsune miku fan beam. •Zoey once tried to dye her hair turquoise and instead dyed it dark green. She also got dye all over her fingers. It was hilarious but they had to wash it out quick before Celine found out. • Post canon, Rumi gets a pet snake and names it Jinu. Yes i think im very funny actually leave me alone

[sparkie96]

Okay, but Sam Wilson getting drunk and showing up in full Cap costume to the Tower to do the stupid little bird dances for Bucky.

Like, maybe Joaquin and him went out after an assignment, got plastered, barely made it to New York at like two in the morning and Bucky, who is monitoring the computers just hears someone hollering his name outside of the Tower.

Like full on "BUCKKKYYYYYY!" Loud as shit

He pulls up the camera for the front and sees Sam doing those little dances, wings and all while Joaquin hypes him up.

Yelena comes in like "Bucky, your boyfriend is doing dumb little dances out front." And Bucky is fully aware and mildly intrigued.

Bucky also saves the video to his phone to play for Sam when he sobers up and/or to play at their wedding one day.

[batsandbirdbrains]

This is how I imagine every hero/rogue/villain/side character reacts to little eight year old Robin!Dick when they first meet him:

And just by being his snappy punny sassy little self, he has everyone wrapped around his little finger before he’s even in the double digits.

And when he first meets Deathstroke the Terminator, who has just been kicked in the jaw by this flippy little kid who’s dressed like a traffic light? Deathstroke immediately wants him to be his apprentice and responds like:

[iluvsanrio444]

Okay I was drafting both chapters for I wanted popcorn, not demons and Eyes That Shouldn’t Stay. I JUST REALISED HOW SHORT I MADE READER BRO. I MADE IT TO AN AVERAGE HEIGHT FOR MY ASIAN GIRLIES 5’2 😭💔💔 (these r like my hcs for their heights 🤭)

[thedemonofcat]

A mistake has been made.

It all began when Jaskier was cursed by a sorcerer who, for reasons only the magically unhinged understand, decided to turn him into a swan. A pet. A pretty, feathery companion.

By day, he's a swan. By night, human again.

He's supposed to spend his daylight hours gracefully floating on a lake — poetic, tragic, all that dramatic nonsense. But since when has Jaskier ever followed instructions?

Of course he doesn’t stay on the lake. No, Jaskier the Swan is out there, stirring up trouble, honking at farmers, knocking over market stalls, making absolute mayhem of rural life.

One day, Geralt rolls into a village in disarray. People whisper of a "demonic bird" that's been terrorizing the place. And then he hears it — one very distinctive, indignant honk.

Geralt knows. That’s Jaskier. Somehow, without a doubt.

[tobytaco15]

This is so cute 🥺🥺

Damian silently crying in the batcave after patrol because a little kid gave him a crayon drawing of him, with crude writing at the top saying ‘favorat ROBIN’ with an arrow pointing at what looked like him in his Robin suit and a Batarang.

When someone sees it hanging above his desk in his room, he calls it art inspiration. That’s all.

[slutzforbueckers]

paige x rapper!gf headcanons will cure my depression

paige x rapper!gf headcanons

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡—warnings: some mentions of sex(like once or twice)

♡—a/n: anon i love you for your patience omg i forgot about this.

she loooooooves going to the studio with you and hearing your lyrics come to life

paige definitely listens to your unreleased songs during warm ups or right before a game and she brags about it every chance she gets

“paige, whats your go to pre-game music?” the reporter asked, angling her mic towards paige again. paige let out a laugh as her face went red just thinking about you.

“my girls music, obviously.”

you always show her your songs to let her get the first listen before you release it

she goes with you to your celeb events sometimes and makes sure she's alwaysss by your side, she can't have people flirting with her girl

"paige, aren't there people you'd like to meet or something?" you asked her with a breathy chuckle, pouring yourself another red solo cup. "you don't have to stuck up under me all night, y'know."

"hm, yeah i think i'll stay here." she nodded her head as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, smiling down at you with a drunk smile. "can't have these people out here thinking you're up for grabs."

"you're pitiful." you snickered.

she secretly loves it when you name drop her in your songs, she gets all geeked like a teenager and her celeb crush

not only can you rap but you can siiiing too. that means that when she's off on an away game and the time differences are conflicting, she often plays one of the songs you made for her in order to fall asleep

sometimes you hear paige rapping in the shower and lets just say you don't mention it when she gets out

whenever it comes to making those explicit songs you always make them in the little studio you have setup in your apartment…for comfort reasons and because paige may or may not be the soft moans in the background

she loves it whenever your songs come on the radio, even if you’ve both heard it a thousand times she still turns the volume up

one time she admitted to touching herself while listening to your music....

it was just a regular thursday night, nothing special happening, no songs to work on. you were sitting on the couch scrolling through your dms on insta when paige randomly bursted out:

"sometimes i listen to your music while i touch myself."

your head snapped up so fast you almost got whiplash. you didn't say anything at first, just stared at her blankly because it was so unprovoked.

"you're so weird."

yes she's a big star basketball player and celebrities show up at games but she'll never get used to coming home and megan thee stallion be sitting in her living room.

"i'm so tired," paige groaned at the loudest volume possible as she shut the front door. she dropped her bags by the door and that's when she heard the sound of another voice combined with yours. she made her way to the living room and when she saw megan sitting with her legs crossed next to you she nearly had a heart attack. "babe, megan thee stallion is sitting in our living room."

"yeah, i thought i told you she was coming over to work on this song?" you looked up confused. paige shook her head quickly, face turning red enough to make you burst out laughing. "go shower."

"good idea." she nodded and sped walked to the bedroom.

[p1girlfriend]

lando norris x older!girlfriend - headcanons.

he’s absolutely in love with how grounded you are. when the world gets too loud — the cameras, the fans, the pressure — you’re his place to land. you don’t freak out. you don’t demand attention. you see him. and sometimes when he’s spiraling after a race, you just hold his jaw and go:

“hey. breathe. I’m proud of you no matter what.” and he closes his eyes like he’s finally safe again.

—

he's a total homebody with you. as soon as the door closes behind you two, he becomes soft and clingy like clockwork. track pants, hoodie, wrapped around you on the couch like a human sloth. his head in your lap, begging for scratches. you: “you know you’re like a cat, right?” him, sleepy: “m’not a cat. I’m your boyfriend. feed me.”

he texts you about everything. – “i miss your hair today.” – “do you think that song we heard in Ibiza was about us?” – sends mirror selfies half-dressed like: “is this too much for media day orrrr?” – you send voice notes when you can’t be with him and he saves them to replay when he misses your voice

—

he takes your picture all the time. you're sitting in the passenger seat? he’s snapping a photo of your side profile with the caption: “my view >>>” you’re doing skincare? he’s filming you and calling it "the prettiest science experiment ever.” you once caught him zooming in on a candid of you laughing on his camera roll.

“what are you doing?” “uh… admiring the love of my life? is that illegal?”

—

your kisses are his addiction. it’s not even about sex most of the time — he just loves having you close. kisses your shoulder while you cook. kisses your wrist before he puts a bracelet on you. kisses the top of your head in public like he needs to make sure people know.

“can’t help it,” he says. “you taste like home.”

—

he builds playlists for you. and they’re SO chaotic: 1 minute it’s James Blake, next is Dua Lipa, then a random sound clip of him saying “i love you” into your voicemail

“this one’s called ‘songs that remind me of your thighs and your brain.’” he makes you laugh so much it hurts he also gets real quiet when a song hits the feelings too hard and pulls you into a cuddle without a word

—

he flirts like it’s his job. “you look sexy when you yell at customer service.” “you wanna fight me? kiss me first then we’ll talk.” “stop looking at me like that unless you’re gonna do something about it.” you roll your eyes he bites his lip you both know you’re gonna fold

—

he brags about you constantly. to the team. to the press. to anyone with ears.

“she’s smarter than me. probably should be running the team.” “my girlfriend helped pick this fit. if you like it, thank her.” the media asks him what keeps him grounded — “her.” he doesn’t even blink.

—

and yes. the sex? unbeatable. you know exactly what you’re doing. and he loves that. loves when you tell him what you want. loves when you pull him into a kiss. he’s loud for you. he begs for you. but his favorite part? when you whisper,

“i love you, Lando. you’re doing so good for me.” he falls apart. every time.

—

he’s never been so sure of anything. he has everything — the fame, the career, the world watching. but when you’re in his hoodie, curled up on the couch, telling him about your day while he plays with your fingers? that’s what he calls winning.

©p1girlfriend | requested | requests open!

[lucychanart]

congrats Lulu, the prize is yours!

[anx13ty-astr0naut]

So u h- This is 100% plausible.

Cosmo & Wanda's true forms are something that can be detected, scanned, & viewed.

Danny has his ghost sense which allows him to detect nearby paranormal entities & see/notice paranormal happenings that most cannot.

So yeah, 100% plausible headcanon & I'm tucking this one neatly away in my own accepted fanon.

hc that danny just sees wanda and cosmo's true forms

[queencard0]

BREAD AND LOVE — SALESMAN

salesman x reader — 1.6k words — warnings: none — no use of y/n

disclaimer: english is not my first language!

You catch your husband stomping on innocent bread.

Masterlist

Calmly, you walked through Tapgol Park.

You still had some time before your husband would come home, so you wanted to enjoy the nice weather a little longer. You were getting closer and closer to the pavilion in the middle of the park. It was actually quite beautiful, but at some point, the homeless had taken it over and declared it their new home. Their belongings were scattered everywhere, and they themselves could be found—mostly sleeping—in every corner. The closer you got to the pavilion, the more it smelled of alcohol and sweat.

You didn’t want to think badly of these people—after all, many of them had no other choice. Once someone ends up homeless, it’s hard to get out again. Capitalism doesn’t offer a quick way up once you’re at the very bottom.

By now, you had reached the pavilion and lowered your head in shame as you noticed all the poor people from afar. But then another familiar face caught your eye.

Kiyong—your husband—appeared in your field of vision.

Startled, you stopped walking. That couldn’t be. Why would he be here? But it was definitely him: the perfectly ironed suit and slicked-back hair were unmistakably your husband.

In one hand he held his well-known briefcase, and in the other, two large brown paper bags. Kiyong stood with his back to you in front of the pavilion, placing his briefcase on the ground beside him. Some of the homeless got up and stared at him—just as confused as you were. He looked entirely out of place in the scene, with his expensive suit and polished dress shoes.

Suddenly, he bent down and grabbed one of the bags. Without hesitation, he emptied its contents onto the ground. Now you could see what was inside.

It was bread.

If you had already been confused before, your brain now completely shut down. What was he doing?

As if it were the most normal thing in the world, he emptied the second bag as well, and more bread joined the others in the dirt. To say you were appalled would be an understatement. Why did he have so much bread? And why was he throwing it away—right in front of people for whom it was so valuable?

One of the homeless approached your husband, staring in disbelief at him and the bread.

“Why are you throwing away good food?”

You were asking yourself the same question. You crossed your arms indignantly.

You already knew your husband had an illegal job—he never wanted to tell you what exactly he did, supposedly to protect you. You thought you had seen the weirdest thing when you caught him playing Ddakji with strangers in the subway a few years ago, slapping them every time they lost. Back then, he had told you it was “part of his job,” but never had he mentioned anything about throwing away bread.

The homeless man who had approached him bent down to pick up a piece of bread—but Kiyong was quicker.

His polished shoe slammed down on the bread, crushing it completely.

Your mouth dropped open. You must’ve looked incredibly stupid just standing there, but at this point, you didn’t care. You just wanted to know what on earth was wrong with your husband.

Kiyong said something to the homeless man, but you were too far away to hear.

“I’m not the one throwing away the bread,” he suddenly shouted. “You are.”

Baffled, you tried to make sense of what he meant. The whole situation was absurd. One thing was certain: you were going to confront him about it.

Before you could figure out how angry you were going to get, Kiyong moved on to the next unbelievable act.

Suddenly, he began stomping on the bread—so violently that he started jumping.

Like a madman, he bounced around, trampling the bread.

Paralyzed, you stared at the scene unfolding before you. As strange as the subway Ddakji incident had been, this easily topped it. More and more aggressively, your husband stomped on the bread, kicking it across the plaza with his feet. You couldn’t make sense of what you were seeing.

When Kiyong finally decided he was done, he stood still, smoothed out his suit, slicked back his hair, and adjusted his tie as if nothing had happened. He gave a nod to the shocked homeless crowd, grabbed his briefcase, and walked toward the park’s exit.

You stared at him, motionless, as he calmly strolled past you with a blissful smile on his face—completely unaware that you had been watching the entire time.

Outraged, you followed him. Just before he could leave the park and call a cab, you cleared your throat loudly behind him.

Kiyong stopped and turned around with a forced, fake smile—the kind he always gave strangers. But his expression fell the moment he recognized you.

Arms crossed, you glared at him.

Kiyong’s shoulders slumped, and he looked utterly miserable. He clearly understood you had witnessed his bizarre performance.

“You could’ve just told me you hated bread. Then I wouldn’t have kept buying it, and you wouldn’t need to take out your frustrations somewhere else,” you began, scolding him. Kiyong looked down, clearly embarrassed.

“What are you doing here?” he mumbled, glancing up at you with big, dark puppy eyes.

“Same question to you,” you shot back, making him shrink even more.

“I asked first,” he muttered, forcing you to hold back an eye roll.

“Gynecologist appointment. Took the path through the park.”

Now you weren’t sure whether that had been a good idea, or if you should’ve just parked directly at the clinic.

Kiyong nodded.

“I’m working.”

You stared at him in disbelief. You had assumed it was part of his job—but you still had no idea what his job even was.

“In case you didn’t notice—the subway is over there,” you said, nodding toward the station.

“I’m not always in the subway,” he tried to explain.

“Let me sum this up,” you hissed.

“You can’t tell me what your job is because it might put me in danger. But what I do know is: you slap strangers in the subway while playing Ddakji, and now you stomp on perfectly good bread in front of homeless people.”

Kiyong looked down again, like a scolded dog.

“Technically, I didn’t throw the bread away—they did,” he tried to defend himself.

“I know. I heard you,” you snapped.

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“Are you done working?”

Kiyong nodded.

“Good. The car’s in the parking lot. Let’s go.”

Without waiting, you stomped past him, out of the park. Kiyong, of course, followed close behind.

“I don’t hate bread,” he said after a while.

“Oh really? Then why did you just put so much effort into destroying it?” you replied coldly.

“I already said—it wasn’t technically my fault,” he whined.

“Wasn’t it? All I saw was you—like a lunatic—jumping on fresh bread. In front of homeless people!”

“You didn’t see everything,” he said proudly.

“I think I saw more than enough.”

“Look. I bought scratch-off lottery tickets,” Kiyong said, pulling one from his suit pocket.

You stared at the little blue card, completely overwhelmed.

“Then I gave the homeless a choice: bread or gambling. Almost all of them chose the ticket,” he beamed.

“Excuse me?” you gasped.

“Kiyong, what does that even accomplish?” you asked, horrified.

He quickly shoved the ticket back in his pocket.

“It’s part of my job.”

“You know what? I’m not even going to question it anymore.”

Luckily, you both reached the parking lot at that moment. You opened the trunk to put your bag inside.

“I’m sorry,” Kiyong squeaked as he placed his briefcase next to your bag. You nodded in understanding. But before he could close the trunk, you stopped him.

“If I ever see you throwing away good bread again…”

You glared at him, and he swallowed hard.

“Understood.”

“Good,” you smiled and walked around to the driver’s side.

“I’ll drive—”

“No,” you interrupted, getting into the driver’s seat. Kiyong usually insisted on driving, so this was your way of punishing him.

He sighed and slumped into the passenger seat. Flipping down the sun visor, he checked the mirror to fix the strands of hair that had come loose from his slicked-back style while he was jumping.

A grin spread across your face, and before you knew it, laughter burst out of you.

“What?” Kiyong stared at you, confused.

But you couldn’t even answer—waves of laughter shook your body.

“The way you were jumping on the bread—” you gasped, holding your stomach.

Kiyong groaned in embarrassment and covered his face with his hand. But a tender smile also crept across his lips.

“I should drive. Otherwise, we’ll crash into a tree,” he chuckled.

But you snatched the keys right from under his nose.

“No, I’ve got it,” you managed to say, still giggling.

“Ugh, shut up,” Kiyong groaned and gently shoved your arm.

But you still couldn’t stop laughing.

Your husband had no better idea than to lean over and press his lips to yours, hoping to finally shut you up. And it worked—almost. The laughter stopped, but a wide smile stayed on your face as you kissed.

Kiyong deepened the kiss and cupped your cheek with one hand. Even then, you couldn’t stop being amused. As best as you could, you returned his kiss while soft giggles still shook your chest.

Eventually—after what felt like forever to Kiyong—you finally calmed down enough to properly kiss him back.

“Come on, it’s late. We still have to make dinner,” Kiyong said as he pulled away and leaned back in his seat.

Before you could stop yourself, a new laugh escaped your lips.

“Why? We’ve already got bread for dinner.”

[batsandbirdbrains]

ok ok but the batfam having a “crash out schedule” after an incident where dick, jason, tim, and duke all have separate crash outs at the same time, and bruce wasn’t able to calm them all down at the same time. in fact, when steph and damian were sent to help calm down they just ended up crashing out as well.

This is absolutely hilarious

Sundays: Dick

Monday evening: Damian

Tuesday morning: Cass

Tuesday evening: Duke

Wednesday evening: Bruce

Thursday evening: Tim

Friday evening: Steph

Saturdays: Jason

Dick and Jason get full days because they’re most likely to have longer episodes lmao