#{dream journal: headcanons}

[strawberryvanillablast]

Giorno: I thought I told you to stop reading my dream journal.

Narancia: Well, I thought I told you to stop keeping secrets!

[evol-my-heart-to-the-core]

Random Headcanon Time

Nightmares!

Amaryllis's deep seeded/reoccurring nightmares consist of 3 things:

Her experience during Chronorift Catastrophe.

The explosion of her Gran's house. (Hasn't gone away even with Caleb back)

Even though she doesn't understand why, more so the feelings than actual images, the experiments that went on prior to the catastrophe. Sometimes there are images, but they are mostly distorted, and she can remember them after waking up. (Think the Silence from Doctor Who, but feelings and emotions that happened during those dreams remain.) Those experiences are etched into her soul, and even though she can't remember them to the point she doesn't even know it happened. Her soul most definitely does.

[sysig]

Without me, who am I (Patreon)

[mistress-light]

Frey remembering a voice she can’t figure out. That special someone. A blurred face reading to her. Eyes filled with hope, love and despair. Fuck.

[jeweledstone]

That stupid Pizzahead anime arc dream post I made got way more attention than it should have so I’m drawing shit of it

This is one of the mutated villagers from the fantasy verse that PH used as the new bosses (whom I’ll be referring to as the Pseudo-Bosses cause it sounds cool) in his second Pizza Tower. Might draw the others and maybe even what they looked like pre-tower incident later if y’all are interested enough

[duskys-dreams]

I had an Animorphs headcanon that Rachel was transgender (MtF). I imagined the conversation in my head, when the rest of the gang finally pieces it together. They discussed in another room and were completely supportive, already using she/her pronouns.

I started imagining Rachel’s past, how she would have been the tough macho man to hide that something felt off about herself. She was close to Jake before the whole Animorphs thing was even a thing. I even started writing an animation script for her, using the song Empty by Jaiden Animations.

I realized that I didn’t have any ideas for what her deadname could have been, so I went on the internet to search for baby names. I wanted it to be related to water in some way, but when I googled “baby names related to water,” I noticed that my favourite name website didn’t show up. This meant I truly was a writer.

I went inside the first website I found, and it wasn’t names at all. It just had a bunch of little symbols of random things. Even so, I found one thing that had clay on it, and that was a good enough name.

I decided to poke around the rest of the building. It was one of those Pay Per View YouTube websites, and it honestly looked like a classroom full of kids watching a movie. I went inside one of them, then immediately left and saw a bunch of kids in the hallway, watching as well. I thought that the whole premise was stupid and nothing was stopping people from just screen-recording, but I saw a rule on the wall preventing that.

I went to leave the building, and someone came up to me and started talking. I instantly forget what they were saying, but I went up the stairs and found myself on a sort of balcony, with a huge window on my right that looked down into an auto-repair shop.

There were two people already here, a boy that seemed to be a bit younger than me, and his mother. They were friendly, and I went up next to them.

The boy wanted to show me a trick. He took out a playing card, then flung it toward the window. The force of the strike made it completely shatter. His mother was very surprised that this was possible, but I told her that I saw a YouTube video about this a while ago.

He then threw a piece of paper, and it went down to the table down below and picked up a small stack of papers, then returned to the boy. I was very impressed, and said as much. The boy seemed to be a bit flustered, but he accepted the compliment.

I looked down and saw the car that they were working on was actually my dad’s. I waved, but Dad did not see me.

I realized I should probably leave. I looked at my fortune cookie paper, which declared that I would drive home today with a driver’s license. I was confused, because I was only fifteen in the dream.

The mother laughed and said that I should get a move on, because her boy would get it in that determined little head of his that this was something he had to help me with. I nodded, and left the two of them to go home.

I checked Discord, and found that Noah (@ultimatefanwing) was trying to draw himself in the front yard. I went out as well, and moved my drawing there piece by piece. The face didn’t fit quite right on the head; the chin was too short and the forehead was too long.

We had a scenting dog with us, and Noah sent it to look for something in the yard. We watched from the camera placed on the dogs head, and it stopped in a corner of the yard. I had taken the place of the dog, and I asked Noah if he could come see these small purple flowers I found, since I was confused about them. It wasn’t what we were trying to find, but he came over anyway, dodging the dog poop in the front yard.

The song Take A Hint was emanating from me, and there was this weird bug flying around me that looked like a cross between a bee, a cockroach, and a June bug. It landed on my face, and I didn’t flinch, just wondering what Noah would do if he saw it.

Noah sat down next to me, completely ignoring the bug, and I held up the flowers. He examined them, then shrugged. He didn’t know much about flowers either.

I decided to work on the Ultimate drawing here, and got the idea to flip the face horizontally. It fit perfectly now, but the mouth was too big. I redrew it, and it looked like a D. Third time’s the charm.

[hollow-mist]

Tagging.

t a g g i n g.

TAGS.

[alexxuun]

Somewhere in another timeline… another another timeline. Jayce survived, but at the cost of losing everything.

I’ve been haunted by thoughts about the other universe Jayce that we never got to see. As much as I believe he died in that universe, I can’t stop thinking about a what if where Jayce did survive. Headcanon stuff below⬇️

-Jayce survived the explosion in some miraculous way, injured but breathing. The explosion killed Vi and injured Cait.

-Jayce’s trial sentences him to exiled, losing his house name and all his research to be destroyed, as well as stricter rule implemented within the academy on research.

-No undercity search as a kid from the undercity died and the council would rather swept the incident under the rug.

-Jayce successfully jumped from his lab but wake up in the hospital with his lower body paralysed.

-after recovering and losing functionality in his legs, Jayce move to (soon to be) Zaun with Ximena, despite his protests for her to stay in Piltover.

-He lived as a dead man walking. His dream gone and his guilt eats him up every day for killing a kid, nearly killed a kid he knows, whether intentional or not.

-He goes to make amend with the family of the kid he killed, in anyway he can helped. Powder was resentful of him but seeing something familiar within the broken man reflecting back at her, a bond was form between the two. (An explotion,a jinx)

-Jayce live in the shadow within the newly formed Zaun as a prosthetic & disability aids specialist, built his own wheelchair and whatever needed to make Zaun more accessible.

-No passion, no dream. The only thing that keep him alive is wanting to be helpful.

(and of course, 10 years after the explosion, someone from the academy seeks him out. A wrist band with a stone imbedded and a journal with the Talis house symbol in hand.)

Edit: also hugely inspired by this fic that basically gave me every ideas for this. Please check it out if you want some post-canon Jayvik.

The saved and the damned by Lapsi

[coles-scythe]

I haven't mentioned it bc the thought has been exiting my brain as quickly as it pops in, but Sol has shown up in my dreams at least 3 times since the last time I posted abt him in my dreams. First two were just mentions and that feeling of "I haven't seen him but I KNOW he's here," but in the third I was actually with him again!! The two of us + Skylar and Xavier were with my family + my cousins' family at like a holiday dinner. Everyone kept getting up from the table for some reason or another, so someone decided to turn it into a game like musical chairs and duck duck goose. I don't remember the rules bc they didn't rlly make sense, but Sol and I somehow got very competitive over it (in a fun lighthearted way mostly to tease each other.) By the time I woke up we were tied.

Either way I think that was supposed to be one of those kind of "partner meets your family" type situations, but it ended up being very silly and ooc for both Sol and even my own family.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do some headcanons of a reader who was dating Ford before he went into the portal and after stayed at gravity falls to help Stanley with the portal. Mabel calls reader their great aunt/uncle. Basically how they would interact with the twins and Stan! (And a little reunion with Ford if you feel up to it 🤭)

Watching helplessly as Ford got sucked into the portal hurt but what hurt more was thinking that you’ll never see the man you first met way back in college again, that he was lost to wherever that portal lead towards. That and the utter desperation on Stan’s face as he tried to pulling and pushing the heavy lever, looking back at the portal in hopes that it did something; it didn’t the portal remained dead.

You felt as though the wind was knocked out of you when you saw him vanish before your eyes, unable to do anything to stop it due to the distance between the two of you. You thought you had heard your heart break that day also when you felt the first string of tears fall from your eyes as you collapsed on the floor of the disheveled lab, only to be pulled into Stan’s arms as he too cried for the loss of his brother.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we’ll get him back I promise you.’ He said again your shoulder as you both wept in the other’s arms. All you could think about was Ford and your memories with him.

Ford was gone and both you and Stan were left wishing this was all a bad dream before banding together in order to bring Ford back, the pain of loosing him was enough to give you and Stan a reason to stay in Gravity Falls, even when everything reminded you of Ford’s hard work and exploration into the unknown.

Even when you held his journals against your chest tight while looking for a place to hide them forever as per Ford’s instruction, only to settle to hide one in a secret compartment on Ford’s workbench. Going so far as to scattering the third one deep in the woods and the second journal god knows where in the hope that no one, not a single soul ever comes across them, all the while you and Stan spent a large chunk of your lives trying to withhold the biggest secret in known history.

Your relationship with Stan was not the greatest to begin with but after a brief moment on the rooftop of the shack, where he’d ask you what his brother was like, seeing as how at this point you knew his brother on a more intimate level then he did after so long with no contact with one another.

‘He’s like an enigma, a complex equation that couldn’t be easily solved, so complex yet simple that it made figuring him out all the more harder but it was made worth it in the end.’ You tell him with a smile on your face.

‘Sounds like Stanford alright.’ Stan muses as memories of his childhood with Ford flooded his mind. You hummed in agreement before looking up at the stars before noticing a familiar constellation. ‘Orion.’ You then said out of the blue.

‘What?’ Stan replied, confused as he searched the sky for the constellation you were on about.

‘One of Ford’s favourite constellations is Orion alongside the Ursa Major constellation.’ You explained to him before feeling a sense of melancholy filled your chest upon realising that Ford wasn’t here to gush over the multiple fact he knew about the infamous constellation.

‘Oh.’ Was all Stan said as he finally managed to spot the constellation you were talking about with fondness. You looked over to him and gave him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. ‘I’m sorry you lost your brother again.’ You say softly as Stan tries to hide his emotions by waving you off.

‘I’m sorry you lost your boyfriend.’ He echoed the sentiment as you both went back to watching the Orion constellation in comfortable peace, both hoping that wherever Ford was he was seeing his favourite constellation too in a desperate attempt to feel some connection to him again. From then on you and Stanley became somewhat friends that acted like siblings more often then not with the rough housing, the pranks and the occasional want to punch a shitty little teenager, he would often times call you his in-law on some occasions when it was just you and him in the shack.

‘I wish Ford would’ve married you.’ Stan tells you on the anniversary of the day Ford went through the portal. ‘Then you could’ve been my in law for real but I guess that doesn’t matter because I already see you as my annoying in law already, my family.’ He admits and you playfully punch his shoulder while feeling sentimental over his causal declaration.

‘Shut up you big goof ball.’ You said with a chuckle as you wiped away your tears. ‘You’re my family too and have been for a long while.’ You added.

You were there with Stan when Mason (Dipper) and Mable were born, you both loved the kids so much that you tried to leg it with them once because neither of you wanted to put them down for a single second. This had soon became a story you loved to retell the twins when they came to stay with you and Stan in Gravity Falls.

‘Grunkle/ great aunt y/n!’ Mabel cried as she dropped her bags before quickly running to you as you bend down to hold her close.

‘My little shooting star!’ You greeted her with equal excitement, pressing kisses to her forehead as she chuckled. ‘How have you been? Done anything fun and fabulous recently?’

‘Only bedazzle dippers face when he was sleeping once.’ Mabel stared proudly as you saw Dipper pout and his cheeks grow red from embarrassment. ‘Don’t tell grunkle/ great aunt y/n that! I spent a week trying to get those plastic rhinestones off of my face.’ He grumbled as he rubbed his cheek as though he was still trying to get the fake Rhinestones off of his face.

You chuckled at them and can’t help but be reminded of the stories Stan told you of him and Ford when they were younger, dipper and Mabel were more alike to their grunkles then they’ll ever know but you’d like to say you even saw bits of yourself in them also.

‘Well I’m sure we’re going to do a whole lot more bedazzling but just not on people’s faces.’ You said while pinching Mabel’s cheeks, causing her to laugh and swat her hands at you. ‘That tickles.’ She cries as you stop pinching and poking her cheeks to hold her hand as you both walk over to Dipper, just to lift his hat and ruffle his hair playfully. ‘And how’s my Little smart Dipper doing.’ You greeted as Dipper’s eyes light up as he told you about how he had beaten Mabel at chess, showed you his most recent doodles he had hastily shoved into his backpack.

One of his drawings was of the Orion constellation and the Ursa Major constellation respectively. ‘I know how much you liked these constellations from the last time we came to visit.’ He said as he handed you the drawing, a little embarrassed but you couldn’t help but feel a smile grow across your face as you held the drawing close to your chest. ‘Thank you dip and dots.’ You said softly as you pressed a kiss to the top of his hat. ‘I love it very, very much I shall treasure it forever my little genius.’

You loved Dipper and Mabel as though they were your own and you often spoilt the pair however you could by doing arts and crafts with Mabel one day while playing paranormal detective with Dipper as you kept him safe from harming himself the next. You encouraged them to be themselves no matter how many people might ridicule them for going outside of the norm, you wanted them to be happy as they are and feel not a single need to change for others.

You’d happily wear the sweaters and jewellery Mabel made with pride as your jumper said in loud and colourful colours; ‘proud Grunkle/Great aunt of a shooting star and a Dipper’ it made no sense to people outside of your family but it just felt right to you to wear regardless. That and it was your favourite thing to wear other than Stanford’s turtlenecks.

‘You’d love them Stanford, you’d love them as much as me and Stanley do.’ You said to no one in particular as you fell asleep on Ford’s bed that night, cuddling his pillow with an aching heart. ‘Please come back home in one piece…haven’t I suffered enough with your long absence from my life?’

They helped you enjoy life but that happiness and peace was then disturbed when the portal reopened and Stanford came out looking a lot hardened and rugged. it felt as though a being of a higher power had answered your prayer for your beloveds safe return home.

‘Stanford?’ You said in disbelief from beside Stan who looked equally in disbelief.

‘Stanford?’ Dipper asked as he looked between you and this mystery figure who picked up the first journal and pocketed it in his trench coat.

Stanford looked up at the sound of your voice and he felt like he was that giddy college student again seeing the most perfect person in his life. It had been far too long for Stanford’s liking as he noticed how you’ve aged beautifully since the last time he saw you in this very room it gave him a sense of Deja vu.

‘Y/n?’ He calls as you could only start to cry while smiling.

‘Yeah it’s me. I look a little grey here and there but-‘ you attempted to joke about your old age but Stanford had quickened his pace towards you before enveloping you in his arms, holding you close and you clung onto him just as tightly. ‘You came home.’ You whispered into his shoulder, burying yourself further into his chest in hopes of telling yourself that he was in front of you, and how this wasn’t a dream. Ford had come home.

‘Yes I’m home now my dear, I’m right here there’s no need to doubt that.’ Ford said as he rubbed up and down your back, resting his head against yours as he familiarised himself with you and your warmth and your scent once again after having been devoid of it during his time in the multiverse. ‘I’m right here.’ He repeats as he felt you grip onto him tighter while you wept into his turtleneck. He has so much to tell you about but decided to keep you in his arms instead.

You both needed this as he too had been looking at the Orion constellation, wishing that you were looking at it too with a smile on your face, after all it was your favourite constellation as a couple.

[citysuk]

so in love | aemond targaryen

pairing: dark!aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader (rhaenyra's daughter)

summary: some headcanons of aemond with his obsessive behavior over you

notes: I'M BACK!!! i just know that when this man is fixated on something, he won't stop until he gets it. he's so crazy! i think i wanna have his babies 🤭🤭🤭

warnings: targcest. violence. hate. kinda yandere aemond, he daydreams A LOT. but he my pookie <3 he's not bad, he just wants to be himself!! no proofread. no use of y/n and no oc neither.

Aemond Targaryen, a prince of great ambition and power, found himself falling hopelessly in love with you, Rhaenyra’s only and oldest daughter. It was a love twisted by fate and circumstance, but one that burned brighter than a thousand suns.

His gaze was always drawn to you. He watched you from across the room like a hawk, his intense eyes taking in every detail. He longed to touch you, to feel your soft skin and bury his face in your hair. But he knew it was a forbidden love, one that could never be. His mother would never allow it.

Aemond found himself dreaming of spending time with you, stealing moments away from the prying eyes of the court. He would imagine taking you on long walks through the gardens, their hands entwined, their bodies pressed closely together. He would dream of you flying alongside him on your dragon, the wind whipping through your hair as you soared through the endless expanse of the vast world below.

During the council meetings, Aemond would find his thoughts drifting to you, his mind unable to focus on the discussions of warfare and politics. He would fantasize about the future, about a world in which they could be together. He would day dream about walking down the aisle on their wedding day, vowing to love and protect each other for the rest of their lives.

In quiet, hidden moments, Aemond would find himself scribbling your name in his journal, as if writing it down would somehow bring you closer to him. He would sketch your face from memory, trying to capture your likeness on the page. He would pour his heart onto the parchment, writing poems and love sonnets, each word dripping with the fullness of his affection.

Aemond found himself drawn to the things that reminded him of you. He would seek out the things that made him think of you: a certain flower, a specific scent, a particular piece of music. He would find himself stealing a glance at jewellery and clothing, picturing you wearing them, imagining the way they would fit your body like a second skin. He would find himself stealing a strand of your hair, tucking it away in a hidden pocket, so that he could feel a piece of you close to his heart.

He would watch you at feasts, his heart aching in his chest, his desire burning like a raging fire. He would watch as suitors danced with you, his hands curling into fists as he had to watch them touch you, to see their hands on your hips, to watch them lean in too close. He wished it was him, his hands on your body, his lips close to your ear, his breath on your skin.

Aemond would find himself searching for any opportunity to be near you. He would attend meetings where he knew you would be present, just for the chance to hear your voice and see your face. He would find excuses to walk by your chambers, hoping to catch a glimpse of you through a cracked door. He would find himself listening for the sound of your footsteps in the halls, his body tensing with anticipation.

Sometimes, when the castle was quiet, Aemond would find himself outside your windows, standing in the shadows and looking up at your rooms. He would imagine you sitting at your desk, studying or sewing. He would imagine himself climbing through the window and sneaking into bed beside you, holding you in his arms and shielding you from all the hardships of the world.

Aemond would watch you, studying your face, the way you moved, the way you spoke. He would memorize every detail, every nuance, every little quirk. He would notice small things about you, like the way you bit your lip when you were nervous or how you twisted your hair when you were deep in thought. He would study you as if you were a work of art, like a sculpture in the godswood, perfectly sculpted in a way that only a higher power could create.

Aemond would also observe subtle things about your character. He would see your empathy towards those in need, your kindness towards your handmaids, and your strength when faced with adversity. He would notice the way you cared for your siblings, your loyalty to your family, and your love for your mother. He would see how you stood your ground against those who sought to undermine you, your determination and tenacity. He would see all of these things and love you more because of them, knowing in his heart that he had never met anyone quite like you.

Aemond would also feel a sense of guilt for his feelings. He knew that it was wrong to desire you, that he was supposed to be loyal to his brother and to his family's alliance. He would argue with himself in his mind, trying to convince himself that he was being foolish, that his feelings were just a passing fancy. But no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, his heart would not listen. It beat wildly in his chest, as if it was trying to break free and fly to you.

Despite the challenges and conflicts that came with his affection for you, Aemond would also find moments of tenderness and vulnerability. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly emotional, he would imagine confessing his feelings to you. He would picture telling you everything he felt, laying his heart bare and hoping for your understanding. He would imagine the look on your face, the shock, the surprise, and maybe even the realization that you felt the same way.

But Aemond would also fear the consequences of his confession. He would dread the rejection, the possibility that you would not feel the same, that his love was unrequited. He would worry about the judgement of his family, the disapproval of his mother. He would fear the consequences of acting on his feelings, the possibility that he could lose everything he had worked so hard for, all for a chance at happiness with you.

Aemond would also find himself struggling with his own insecurities. He would compare himself to the other men who sought your attention, and find himself lacking. He would question if he was good enough for you, if he was worthy of your love. He would doubt his own worth, his own prowess, and his own ability to protect and provide for you. It was a constant internal battle, one that he fought alone, in the darkest corners of his troubled mind.

Despite his insecurities, Aemond would also find moments of confidence. He would see the way you looked at him, the small smiles you would give, the subtle nods of approval, and it would give him a sense of hope. He would feel a burst of courage, imagining that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that you could return his feelings. He would find himself taking small risks, standing a little closer, making a joke, just to see if he could make you smile.

If he was feeling courageous he would steal glances at you across a room, hold your gaze a moment too long, or brush your hand with his, feeling the electricity shoot through his chest. He would find himself standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, taking in your scent, breathing in the air around you, like a man drowning and desperate for air.

Aemond would also find himself trying to impress you. He would find himself showing off during training, using more impressive moves, or taking on more challenging opponents. He would try and draw your attention to him, using his swordsmanship like a weapon in his pursuit of your affections. He would also try and display his intelligence, making clever observations, or offering thoughtful insights during council meetings. He wanted to show you that he was more than just a skilled warrior, that he had a brain to go along with his brawn.

After Viserys' death and the start of the war, Aemond would become more resolute and determined than ever. He would see the conflict as a chance to prove himself, to show the world what he was made of. He would channel his energy and his anger into the war effort, throwing himself into the fray with a newfound fervor.

He would also find himself taking on more responsibility, taking command of troops, making strategic decisions, and leading men into battle. He would become an even more fearsome warrior, fighting with a ferocity that was almost feral.

During the war, Aemond's feelings for you would only become more intense, even though you were on opposing sides. He would find himself thinking of you constantly, worrying about your safety and your well-being. He would hear news of your battles and victories, his heart torn between pride and worry.

His feelings would translate into his actions on the battlefield. He would fight with a reckless abandon, seeking out the most dangerous missions and the most challenging opponents, as if courting death would provide some sort of relief from his torment. He would throw himself into battle, hoping that tiring himself out with fighting would be a distraction from his aching heart.

He would also find himself looking at the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and your dragon soaring above, wondering if you thought of him as much as he thought of you.

Despite his intense feelings, Aemond would find himself in a moral dilemma. On one hand, he loved you with all his heart, and the thought of raising his sword against you made his soul ache. But on the other hand, he was fiercely determined to get the throne.

If Aemond were to ascend the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms, he would make sure that you were by his side. He would want to keep you close to him, to have you as his queen, his partner, his confidante.

But your loyalty to your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, would be unwavering. Aemond would know that you would never betray your mother.

He would also be worried about the political repercussions of your loyalty. He would know that your family on Dragonstone would never agree to you being his queen, and he would be aware that they would do everything to try and keep you from him.

Aemond would be furious when he learned that you were being betrothed to Cregan Stark. He would feel like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it. The thought of you being married to someone else would make him feel like he was drowning in a pool of molten lead.

He would also feel betrayed and angry, as if the world was conspiring against him, toying with his heart, making a mockery of his love.

Aemond would be a man possessed. The thought of losing you to another would drive him mad, and he would be willing to do anything to prevent it. He would start to lose his grip on his sanity, seeing no other way to have you than to burn the world to the ground.

He would fantasize about setting the Red Keep ablaze, watching it burn like a pyre of the damned, feeling the heat of the flames on his skin like the fires of his rage. He would imagine bringing down the entire world, reducing everything to ashes, if it meant he could have you.

He would also want to destroy the man who stood in his way, Cregan Stark, the man who would take you from him. His thoughts would be consumed with revenge, with a desire to end Cregan Stark's life, to make him pay for stepping between him and you. He would relish the idea of watching the light fade from his eyes, and would dream of the moment he could hold you in his arms once more, the body of your betrothed at his feet.

Aemond's love for you would be like a wildfire, consuming him from within. He would be driven by a primal force, and nothing would be able to stop him, not the law, not the gods, not anything in the world. He won't stop until you are his.

autor's note: do you guys want a part 2??? 👀��� please like and reblog if you liked it, comment your thoughts!!

[geneviveleocardius]

arthur morgan romantic headcanons

extended

to the loml..

Arthur isn’t the type to fall in love easily, but when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He fights it at first, thinking he doesn’t deserve you or that his life is too dangerous. But once he accepts it, his love is unwavering.

Arthur’s love language is rooted in action. He’ll sharpen your knives, mend your clothes, and leave little surprises in your belongings—a flower he picked on a ride, a small drawing tucked into your satchel. These gestures are his way of saying..

“I’m thinking of you.”

Arthur would walk through hell and back for you, no questions asked. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll be met with a cold, steely glare—and if the situation escalates, Arthur won’t hesitate to step in.

Arthur notices everything about you—how you like your coffee, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, the small things that bring you comfort. He stores this knowledge away, using it to make your life easier without drawing attention to himself.

Arthur finds it hard to express his feelings verbally. When he tries, he stumbles over his words, his cheeks flushing red. Instead, he’ll write you letters or let his actions speak for him. The few times he does manage to say “I love you,” it’s raw, heartfelt, and unforgettable.

Arthur is big, strong, and often a bit rough around the edges, but he’s incredibly gentle with you. His touch is always careful, his words soft, and he treats you like you’re something precious in a world full of chaos.

Arthur has a deep respect for you and your ability to hold your own, especially in the harsh world you both live in. He’ll often tell you, “You’re tougher than most folks I know. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Arthur cherishes the rare times when it’s just the two of you—sitting by a campfire, watching the stars, or riding side by side in peaceful silence. These moments are what keep him going when life feels too heavy.

Arthur doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s subtle—a tense jaw, a quiet grumble, or a pointed look. If someone flirts with you, he’ll casually sling an arm around your shoulders and mutter something like, “Don’t think they know you’re already spoken for.”

Arthur loves to sketch you. He’ll pretend he’s drawing landscapes or animals, but you’ll often find small doodles of you hidden in his journal. If you ever catch him in the act, he’ll act bashful, muttering, “Just drawin’ what I see..”

Arthur’s protective nature runs deep. He knows the world is dangerous, and he’ll do anything to shield you from it. At the same time, he trusts your strength and doesn’t try to control you—he just wants to be there when you need him.

Arthur believes in being upfront with you, even when the truth is hard to hear. He doesn’t want to hide anything, especially from someone he loves. His honesty might be blunt, but it’s always rooted in care and respect.

Arthur doesn’t expect perfection from you. He knows everyone has their flaws, and he loves you not despite them, but because they make you who you are. He’s always quick to remind you, “Ain’t nobody perfect, least of all me. But you? You’re just fine the way you are.”

Arthur dreams of a better life for the both of you—maybe a little farm, far away from all the chaos. He’s hesitant to share these thoughts at first, afraid they’ll sound foolish, but when he does, his voice is full of hope.

When life gets overwhelming, Arthur is your rock. His presence is steady, his voice reassuring, and his arms feel like the safest place in the world. No matter how bad things get, you know you can always count on him to stand by your side.

Arthur loves to poke fun at you in the gentlest way. If you trip over something or make a small mistake, he’ll smirk and drawl, “Reckon I should start callin’ you Grace.” But if anyone else tries to tease you, he’ll immediately shut them down, saying, “That’s my job, not yours.”

Arthur’s a nickname kind of guy. Whether it’s “darlin’,” “sunshine,” or even something a little more playful like “trouble,” every nickname he uses is laced with affection. If he’s in a particularly good mood, he might tease you by saying, “What’d I do to get stuck with someone like you?” only to follow it up with a soft smile and a quiet, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Arthur’s got a sharp sense of humor, and he’s not afraid to use it. If you’re being stubborn or overly dramatic, he’ll cross his arms and grin. “Oh, so that’s how it is now? I’d better get outta your way before you start runnin’ the whole gang.” He knows exactly how to get under your skin in the most endearing way.

Arthur loves a little friendly competition, whether it’s a shooting contest, fishing, or even racing horses. He’ll mock you playfully the entire time: “You sure you don’t want a head start, darlin’? Hate to see you lose so bad.” But if you beat him? He’ll act all grumpy before grinning and saying, “Alright, alright, you earned that one. Don’t get too used to it.”

After a round of playful banter, Arthur always makes sure you know he’s kidding. He’ll pull you close, brush his thumb over your cheek, and murmur, “Y’know I don’t mean half the nonsense I say, right? Just like seein’ you smile.”

Arthur’s life hasn’t left much room for softness, but he finds ways to be romantic in his own understated way. He’ll carve your initials into a tree, braid wildflowers into your horse’s mane, or bring you little trinkets he finds on his travels. If you ever call him out on it, he’ll shrug and say, “Just seemed like somethin’ you’d like.”

Arthur has a habit of pulling you into sudden dances when there’s music around the camp. He’ll take your hand with a teasing grin and say, “C’mon, we ain’t got all day. Let’s see if you can keep up.” Even if you’re terrible at it, he’ll just laugh and say, “Guess we both got somethin’ to work on.”

Arthur’s protectiveness often shows up in his actions rather than words. If you’re out riding together, he’ll always place his horse slightly ahead, shielding you from any potential danger. If you call him out on it, he’ll grumble, “Ain’t nothin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things, is all.”

When you’re feeling unsure of yourself, Arthur’s softer side shines through. He’ll tilt his head, his voice low and earnest: “Ain’t no one like you, and don’t you dare forget it. World’s better ‘cause you’re in it.”

Arthur can’t help but stare when you laugh. Whether it’s a soft chuckle or uncontrollable laughter, it always tugs at his heart. He’ll grin and tease, “Reckon I should make you laugh more often. Suits you better than that serious look you like to wear.”

Arthur’s flirting is subtle but effective. He’ll lean in close, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip a beat: “You keep lookin’ at me like that, and I might start thinkin’ you’re sweet on me.”

After a long day, Arthur treasures the quiet moments with you. Sitting by the fire, he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulders, occasionally breaking the silence to tease you softly: “Think you could stand another day of me? Don’t answer too fast, might hurt my pride.”

Arthur isn’t just your partner; he’s your anchor. Whenever you need comfort, he’s there without hesitation. He’ll hold you close and murmur, “Ain’t nothin’ we can’t handle. Long as we got each other, we’ll be alright.”

Arthur doesn’t brag much, but he can’t help himself when it comes to you. If someone comments on how lucky he is, he’ll smirk and say, “Damn right I am. And she’s lucky I’m lettin’ her stick around.”

When things are tough, Arthur’s voice carries a weight of quiet determination: “Whatever happens, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

pretty boy

[evol-my-heart-to-the-core]

OOC question: Do you ever wonder how your MC abilities work especially if you keep the fact that all MCs exist in your verse? Or do you have your MC be the only one?

I personally made my MC have a more AoE ability, so her abilities affect multiple people, but has a hard time focusing on it like the canon MC does. It's also more sound based than the og so she can deafen everyone and herself if she's not careful. Idk just curious and sharing my thoughts (which might be subject to change).

Ooc: For the most part if someone comes to me as a fellow MC then they are fellow MC. If they don’t, then she’s the only one. They only said her evol was rare not that it was impossible for others to have it. Ya know. So how I deal with it, that is purely situational.

I suppose I would say it’s more frequency based. Like trying to tune in to the right fm radio station? The slightest thing can throw it off, and make it fail, or her loose control of it. Like accidentally amplifying the wrong person’s evol. So I like to think she spends a lot of her time in the training room, practicing on how to keep her concentration in different situations. Like dealing with pain, for example. But because it’s frequency based, she can only resonate with one person at a time.

[ckret2]

What do you think Bill Cipher’s mindscape would look like? Do you think that the memories of his homeworld are all glitched and static filled like the page about his home in his book?

I think Bill Cipher's mindscape looks like this.

My headcanon is that when Bill meets a new pawn, he plasters his dreamscape on top of theirs so that he can control the events better, and then fills up the dreamscape with junk from his pawn's waking life (like Ford's journals and science equipment) so that they don't realize they're no longer in their own dream.

What's the one thing we know about how Bill's homeworld looks?

He depicts it as a planet laying on a blue grid.

That's why I illustrate his dimension the way I do here. I even drew the colors for the sky and stars from the background image in Mabelcorn.

[petriwriting]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Theodore, who never had his mother around as a kid, she passed away while he was young.

Theodore Nott, who has a bad boy flirty reputation, but is secretly deep down pretty sad. Until he meets you.

Theo takes a liking to you, immediately.

Theodore who dreams of domestic bliss, because he never got to see it at home, he wants to get married, spoil you, love you.

Theo who falls in love with you very quickly first or second year, but feels conflicted and confused.

Theo who would die for you, or kill for you. He would do anything for you. anything you asked. he was all yours.

Theo Is unimaginably loyal, and the rest of slytherin house jokes maybe he should have been in hufflepuff instead.. but he's also the smartest person you know.

Theo who's introverted, but comfortable and gains confidence around his mates.

Theo who reads poetry, and writes his thoughts and ideas in a journal with sketchy illustrations. He only lets you read it.

Theo who has a vintage black leather motocycle jacket from his father's old things.

Theo who cries and smokes cigarettes over his fear of his fathers wrath ever hurting you.

Theo who realizes he has to break your heart to keep you safe. his breaks instead.

While broken up, asks around to check on you regularly.

You can't look at him in the halls. it hurts too much.

Theo who was just not like the other slytherins.

Theo who owls you to apologize and confesses his feelings in an exasperated breath, wanting to kiss you so bad.

Theo who would without hesitation kiss you in public despite PDA being something that makes him uncomfortable

Theo who fights for you. no matter what.

Theo who would kill his own father just to protect you.

Theo who was so in love, but wouldn't admit it to himself because of his own fear of abandonment.

Theo who's very private about his relationship. He wouldn't do any grand gestures in public, he would be discrete about it, bringing flowers to your dorm in the evening and giving you his mothers' ring.

Theo who always says I love you back.

Marrying Theo and living in a cottage somewhere away from everything else.

Theo being the best dad ever after all he's been through.

Taking a picture of your son before his first year at hogwarts and he looks Just. Like. His. Dad.

[azure-aeon-dragonica]

I am all for more Spamton Virus content

AI Dungeon Spamton Virus doodles I did last night to calm myself after a mental breakdown. Basically a little headcanon of what the paitient/infectee looks like :)