#༄ Flip Headcanons

[agerefandom]

Flip!Asgore Headcanons

Flip: someone who both regresses and acts as a caregiver

very responsive caregiver: dedicated to communicating and giving exactly what a regressor needs 

prefers to be a permissive caregiver with lots of wiggle room, but can enforce schedules and rules if needed 

usually orders a lot of takeout: not the best at cooking his own food 

enjoys lazy younger-age regressors who like diapers and bottles and naps, but also happy to run around with little speedsters 

good at handling multiple regressors at once: one in the crook of his left elbow, one swinging his right hand, one on his shoulders, and another one clinging to his leg as he laughs

very private as a regressor: he’s the king, after all: who could he trust? (or so he tells himself) 

loves being in his garden, singing to his flowers and booping their leaves 

really likes digging holes and ends up covered in dirt 

luckily he likes baths when he’s big, so he just roams as a dirt-covered kiddo until he’s feeling like an adult again 

unrepentant sweet tooth: luckily, he makes a point to keep lots of candy on-hand for the kingdom’s children, so he’s never without when he regresses 

[lil-space-puppy]

Flip Strong Sad Headcanons

As a regressor

He regresses to cope with depression and stress

His little age ranges from 1-5 years old

He can usually be seen holding a lot of the toys from his childhood

He still enjoys writing stories and drawing

Though, he is a lot more openly emotional when he regresses than when he's big

As a caregiver

His soothing voice makes storytime very pleasant to the ear

He is very gentle to any littles under his care

He also makes sure you feel loved as much as possible

Is also willing to give you space when needed

[mrmanbat]

What if Tim had a teacher who was so concerned for this kid bc Tim skips all the time and keeps showing up with bruises (from being Robin)?

Like Tim’s just trying to make sure Batman isn’t gonna off himself or anyone else- he doesn’t need Mr fucking Ross trying to get him to ‘talk about his home life’ after class.

And poor Mr Ross is just trying to make sure this kid isn’t abused and simultaneously trying his hardest to make sure Tim doesn’t get held back??

[ckducky]

Learning to say "I love you" in each others language 

[wheneverfeasible]

TW: brief homophobic language

Steve plays the piano.

When he was a kid, Steve’s mom made him take piano lessons. He honestly hated it, hated how strict his instructor was, hated that he had to spend hours practicing when he could have been playing with his new friend Tommy. The thing was, Steve was good at it. He had an ear for music and could pick up songs after just hearing them a couple of times, even if they weren’t piano songs. There were also brief moments that his mom would actually pay attention to him, would sit at the piano bench with him and play her favorite songs.

Around middle school his dad told him that only pansies played piano, cutting an end to his lessons and instead enlisting him in every sport he could. Steve liked sports. He was good at that too, and at first his dad paid attention to him too which was amazing, but it only lasted one season. That was fine. Steve loved sports.

Then Steve met Robin, and they laughed at how horrible Tammy sounded singing, because even all this time he still had an ear for music. Then he met Eddie, and even though it wasn’t really his type of music, he could tell how talented Eddie was whenever he heard the older boy play after the world tried to end but they stopped it.

Steve and Eddie grew closer, and sometimes Steve even attended Corroded Coffin practice if he was free, much to Gareth’s original annoyance, and the music kind of grew on him. Sometimes he’d find himself singing the songs to himself in the shower or doing chores, or tapping out chords on the steering wheel when he drove Robin or the kids anywhere.

Steve was at one of these band’s practices when he noticed a keyboard set off to the side. He vaguely recalled Eddie ranting one day about the band arguing if they were going to add a keyboardist to their group or not, but the idea had been scrapped several months ago when they couldn’t agree on the sound.

During an intermission in the practice, while the band was all inside the house getting fresh drinks (Eddie was getting his for him), Steve hesitated before moving to the keyboard. He’d never played a keyboard before, and it had been years since he touched a piano after his father got rid of theirs when he started sports. He didn’t think he’d even remember how.

Despite this, his fingers moved with assurance over the keys, not playing one of the songs he’d learned in his youth but the song Eddie and his band had been playing just before break. His natural affinity for music had him able to translate the chords into piano keys easily, and he sort of lost himself in the music he plucked out for the first time in his life.

It wasn’t until the ending notes were lingering in the air and the sound of applause began behind them that he realized the band had returned, Eddie’s eyes gleaming above a wide smile while Gareth rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Your boyfriend can join the band,” the curly haired youth said, sounding aggrieved, but there was a curl to his lips that said that he was impressed.

Which was how Steve, former King of Hawkins High, found himself as the fifth member of the metal band Corroded Coffin as its keyboardist.

It also took until a week later, after his first official practice as part of the band, for him to realize that neither he nor Eddie protested Gareth’s claim of them being boyfriends.

[machveil]

Johnny getting you a dildo as a gag gift, has a good laugh over it while poking at you. what you don’t know is he used one those kits that mold a dick - his dick

[chyarui]

A few of you guys were curious, so as promised, here’s a few of my takes on Kiffar marriage customs! Specifically the role of the qukuuf, hope you guys enjoy! (Once again, this was all inspired by fic Resilience on ao3, though the account is unfortunately orphaned)

Hope my handwriting doesn’t suck too much, and super open to hearing any ideas or questions you might have if I didn’t explain anything fully!

Also here’s a b/w version cause I’m a sucker for greyscale (and to make the qukuuf markings stand out more)

[chuluoyi]

I think about satoru having to help pregnant! reader get up when their belly gets too big because they got stuck sitting on the floor or something, like a turtle flipped on its shell 😭

“satoru! help me get up!”

you’re hissing at him from your pitiful spot on the ground. it was a bad idea to put yourself on the floor just because you want to tie your shoelaces. now not only do you fail to tie them, you can’t even get up.

meanwhile satoru is having the time of his life snickering at the sight of you—so incredibly plush and round, all because he put that baby inside you. he shouldn’t take pleasure in seeing you wiggling and helpless like this, but who is he kidding? he just does.

“look at you, so ready to pop—”

“satoru! i swear, if you don’t help me this instant—!”

“yeah yeah~”

he crouches down to help you until he notices your failed shoelaces. “you’re just like a kid, heh,” he remarked, chuckling, and proceeded to tie them.

his eyes. his eyelashes. the way they crinkle. somehow the sight of him tying your shoelaces makes your face feel hot. why? it’s such a simple gesture, but your heart warms regardless.

“now done. let’s get the little mama up, shall we?”

“—! don’t call me that!”

“but you’re so little and my baby is really filling you full~”

“….i don’t like what you’re getting at🙄 but i sure can’t wait for this to be over…”

“oh~ want me to pop you then?”

…and you curse his name when you wake up to contractions the day after, right after he took you out the night before.

[owlsie-hoot]

"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself because I could find no language to describe them in." // 5.7

[agerefandom]

Raven Cycle Agere Headcanons

Requested by my lovely partner! I’m only doing the main five because it’s been a while since I read the books <3 

Gansey 

usually acts as a caregiver when the boys are all together 

the dad vibes are strong with Gansey: lots of hair ruffles and putting his hands on his hips to admire kiddos’ projects 

only occasionally stops them from doing stupid things: usually helps them to do things like ‘throw all the mattresses outside so we can jump off the roof’

has a knack for making people feel more comfortable with their regression: his caregiver mode is very visible when he switches into it, and it’s hard to resist 

Gansey also regresses, but prefers to do it one-on-one, rather than participating in the chaotic group: he often regresses late at night as part of his insomnia

still enjoys working on his sprawling projects, like the model town: he’s often quiet and focused as a kiddo, and doesn’t go to get a caregiver 

Ronan is the first person he really trusted with that side of him, but he grows to rely on each member of the group 

silently clingy as a kiddo: holds tight onto hands, appreciates cuddles 

watches people very closely if he’s anxious, but completely forgets them in favour of his projects if he’s comfortable 

forgets to eat and needs a caregiver to bring him some snacks and juice (he really likes juice in a sippy cup that he can knock over when he forgets about it and kicks it) 

Ronan

a changeable little boy who is incredibly readable: he’s terrible at hiding any of his feelings when he’s small 

wants to have everyone around him at all times: gets restless if someone is missing

does not like sitting down unless he has a lot of toy options around him: prefers to be moving, playing, running, exploring 

really likes spending time outdoors when he’s small: has a knack for charming animals and will come back with a squirrel on his head

loves to play-tousle with the others and will initiate it at any moment: especially likes to come up behind Adam and tug his hair until he obliges 

wants to be the one who gets to knock the block tower down 

despite the rowdiness, he’s very alert to the others’ needs and runs to get bandaids if anyone gets hurt: very much a big brother at times 

sometimes wakes up regressed and has a hard time seeking other people out, even though it’s really what he needs, especially if it’s the middle of the night 

also an excellent caregiver: able to be quiet or goofy, as a regressor requires, and gives the best cuddles 

second most likely to notice if someone is slipping in the group and needs a stuffed animal (Noah is the first most likely) 

Noah 

generally reflects the mood around him: runs around with the other boys if they’re rowdy, curls up in cuddle piles if they’re sleepy, never out-of-step with the rest of the group 

tends towards the younger side than the others, really likes pacifiers and pull-ups and teething toys 

sticks rocks in all of his pockets (and action figures and leaves and sticks and-) 

very cuddly if he’s catching some one-on-one regression time, always soaking up the other person’s body heat 

can act as a caregiver if he stumbles across one of the others regressing, but the others rarely seek him out as a caregiver, and he doesn’t mind 

really loves sensory toys: blankets with different textures, shakers that have glitter in them, slime that makes popping sounds 

very perceptive about others’ regression: tends to whisper to Gansey or Ronan if one of the others needs something 

reads a lot of comic books when he’s small 

sticks his head out of the car window when they’re driving to feel the wind in his hair 

Adam 

sleepy boy: things catch up to him when he regresses and he usually needs to start playtime with a nap 

but when he’s awake again, he can run around with the best of them 

doesn’t own any regression gear and gets defensive about gifts, so he usually just borrows toys that are around Monmouth 

Gansey keeps buying things for him and intentionally leaves them at his place for Adam to play with when he visits 

gets quietly excited about “fancy” snacks like ants on a log or anything made to look like a face on the plate 

shuts down if he gets hurt when he’s regressed, just absolute dissociation: gentle physical contact and water can help him come back a little quicker but it’s always a hard situation 

the most likely to regress when he doesn’t intend to: drifts closer to Ronan or Blue and gets quiet until someone notices that he’s regressing and bundles him home 

noise sensitive: not to the sounds of the others playing, but to machinery or loud cars or strangers shouting 

most likely to regress on his own, without the others: genuinely enjoys snuggling into blankets and watching cartoons or listening to kid’s music and colouring quietly 

Blue 

regression was not part of her life until she met her Raven Boys, but she fell in love with the concept and with their complicated dynamics through it 

Blue isn’t sure if she is a regressor, but she likes playing with the boys, and sometimes she finds herself slipping into something like a childish mindset: she’s still figuring out if she’s a regressor or an age dreamer 

she likes to be a caregiver one-on-one with the boys: Gansey immediately took to her, Noah and Adam followed soon after, and Ronan prefers her as a playmate rather than a caregiver (and is probably the best at tugging her into a younger headspace when the group is together) 

Gansey is less likely to buy things for himself than for the others, so Blue takes this as an opportunity to give him little things 

Adam is also more open to gifts from Blue, so she makes sure he’s stocked up when he moves into his new apartment 

in general, the boys tend to slip younger around Blue, and she cherishes that: she adds something new to the mix without disrupting their existing relationships 

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed. 

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you.  You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue. 

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment. 

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing. 

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end. 

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered. 

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes. 

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused. 

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi. 

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently. 

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did. 

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam. 

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow. 

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood. 

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa. 

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said. 

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

 Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to. 

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave. 

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments. 

Adam controlled his breathing. 

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees. 

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch. 

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors. 

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment. 

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants. 

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted. 

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer. 

"Hi." You quietly spoke. 

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile. 

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness. 

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep. 

oh adam, i'd die for you

[beaucate]

🍊🏄🏽🎇FLIPPED !

pairing. pogue!reader x bsf brother!rafe cameron. cw. angst (like so much of it), hurt/comfort, yearning men, exceeding fluff, grovelling, mean!reaf, ooc!rafe, redemption for both!! suggestive / smut. this is not just a series, it’s hc’s blurbs etc :)

series summary. — completely inspired by the movie flipped & how to disappear by lana.

rafe cameron was always just out of your reach — your best friend’s older brother. a kook prince with a streak mean enough to make you all teary eyed, and a heavy chip taunting him on his shoulder.

he’d never looked twice your way when you were kids. you were just sarah’s poor pogue best friend, a delusional girl with an even more ridiculous crush.

so you’d told yourself you were over it. over him and his contempt towards you. but months have passed, and things aren’t so simple around the both of you anymore. because rafe is no longer looking at you with indifference or hatred behind the blue’s of his eyes — he’s watching, waiting; like he’s searching for something in you, like he’s hoping you’ll see it too. and the scariest part? it feels like he’s the one chasing you now.

. part one.

a/n. im so so excited for this omg!! just wanted to get the idea out of my head, but I’ve literally been thinking about this since early 2024 😭. i don’t have much rafe followers yet but im v. willing to make a taglist !!

[skidcd-megamix]

aba doing mr beast smile

Hate. Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate.

[wahhzo]

FINALLY... I OFFER UP TO THEE... THE SACRED HEADCANON POST!!

i do have a Lot more, but just wanted to compile a few together and draw em as a group. more of these silly guys to come!!

(also check out @minkshame and @holy-reference-in-a-username bc they greatly influenced my headcanons for these guys!! amazing artists and writers!!)

EDWARD GUINTO

• Half-Filipino, Half-British

• Asexual but other than that he dgaf (he/she/they)

• Freelance Animator and Comic Artist

• AuDHD 👍

• Stopped shaving in solidarity with Tom!!

• Stopped wearing earrings after a few years...

• Only one responsible for the house keys lmao

• Multiples of the same green hoodie (zip-up and closed)

THOMAS REEVES

• Half-British, Half-American

• Omni, transmasc (he/they)

• Part-time at records store, freelance composer

• Hair is styled like that bc it is damaged from years of dyeing and straightening 😔

• Stopped shaving bc of. Depression

• Broken nose bridge from a fight w/ Tord (pre-25 FT)

• Pierced his, Edd's, and Tord's ears when they were teens (Matt was too scared)

MATTHEW HARRISON V

• Half-British, Half-Scottish

• Pan, and gendefluid (he/she)

• Hair stylist and nail tech

• Used to straighten hair, doesn't anymore (whines to Tom about his hair)

• Braids his hoodie strings :- >

• Assigned cook and baker for everyone (they are his test subjects also.)

• AuDHD and OCD 👍

TORD LEONARDSEN

• Norwegian

• Asexual, biromantic, and transgender man (he/him)

• Mechanical engineer

• Autism and OCD 👍

• Pock marks bc he picked at his it constantly

• Pronounced upper lip!!

• Scars on hands from. Work, fighting, and tinkering 😭

• Sleeper build... Worked out a lot after he moved out

[fwoopi]

current residents of toriko !

[pjs-everyday]

pinky saysssss: SCARE ME! 😱 (close-ups)

Who’s the scariest? 😋