#flea's headcanons

[grimescum]

it's been great seeing your walter posts in the hellsing tag 🫡 do you have any head-canons to share?

GEHEUEHEHUEEHHEE THANK YOU KIND ANON!!!!! hum... i think i already made a post about this on my older blog? but i dont really wanna find it + its probably really old so... here :o3 some new and some old just for u

- i Do Not like the depictions of walter where he's, like, a genuinely sick in the head and fucked up individual. it just seems grossly extreme to me. different strokes for different folks though

that being said, i do agree he's definitely not well. i think he has bpd,, mostly out of me projecting and what not but also because i think it just makes sense. growing up distanced from the people around you and not receiving proper emotional support does that to a mf

he's got a facade up damn near all the time. inoffensive, orderly, agreeable, prim and proper. not to manipulate the people around him for his own gain, but because he knows thats what other people want. anything less and he'd be a bad butler, and therefore, effectively useless

- not really a hc since this is just kind of a fact? but ill say it here because its what draws me to him the most: he's afraid of being rendered useless.

- he's not an emotional guy. i dont think he feels much most days. all his smiles are about as fake as the teeth he would've needed if he went on for much longer. i think he's been somewhat resigned to his fate for a while now, but that doesn't stop him from thinking what if every now and again

- he certainly is a jealous little bitch but he keeps that inside. if he ever got therapy he'd need like explosives and shit to properly get all of that pent up emotion out

- ^^ i think thats why he gets a bit sadistic when fighting others. its just a way to vent all that frustration

- i dont think he had many plans, if any at all, to turn on hellsing. he definitely had thoughts, but i think it all caught up to him one night and he just decided it was too much, and that he had nothing to lose that he wouldn't lose later on. either he lives an unremarkable existence in the shadow of alucard or tries to surpass that (he didnt) (he failed) (lol). ties into my bpd headcanon with impulsivity being a symptom

- he would've loved to have been a father at some point but has since abandoned it for many reasons. seras is about the closest he has to a daughter and the most he's opened up to someone emotionally, but he still keeps himself at an arms length.

- i like to think he grew out his hair at some point during the 80s for a mullet but liked having it long

- i also think he'd be big on rock when he was younger!! he tried it at first just because it was popular, but he found that it really spoke to him. i don't think he's much of a music guy outside of that though. maybe some jazz

- he is an incredibly lonely individual, as is expected of a butler. he can handle flirting somewhat but the idea of someone being genuinely attracted to him for who he is turns him into a sappy old-fashioned loverboy

- former christian. he still thinks there is a god (evidenced by vampires obviously) but that god has not been very kind to him to lead him down this path so why gaf

- very meticulous about keeping up his appearance. not a serious headcanon but its funny to imagine him up all night plucking each and every grey hair out of his head. if not just to look as presentable as possible, then it also helps his confidence. its nice to know that his apprarance is one of the few things he has control over

- speaking of which ??? i think hes confident.. but only in the persona he's made for himself yk. not in the real him who's body could fail him anytime. not the human part of him.

- not good at taking compliments but loves them. praise him too much and too often and you'd finally see him emotional i think. really, letting this man know that his worth is not defined by how useful he is to others would fix him

- i think his monocle is both for appearances and because he's got a bum eye, trying to hide it in a way that fits

- poor guy doesn't sleep well most nights. his morning tea, if he's able to have any, is highly caffeinated (i dont think he'd be that much of a coffee guy- not to mention the whole tea drinking thing is befitting of a british butler, so he'd roll with it)

- i'm on my period... so.... like.... i'm going to get a little freaky on main rn (feel free to skip over this, its nothing explicit) but i get So Sick of people seeing him as the daddy dom archetype. like yea older man ouuuu i have daddy issues oauauuu choke me whatever but i'm more inclined to think that he'd actually too insecure about his ability to please his partner to be that way. atleast, not without some sort of affirmation.

again, different strokes for different folks, but like. he is bordering 70. he grew up in the 1930s. i cannot be the only one who thinks this. or maybe i'm just a huge pervert idk (yes ❤️)

- in a similar vein, i'm glad that i havent seen any fanart of him muscular because i would be so mad but in the most respectful way possible – this man is, like, rail thin. i do think he does a decent amount of exercise when he can so its not like he's not a pile of bones. i'll admit that i've maybe drawn him a bit too skinny in the past though

ok my pain meds r kicking in and making me sleepy... if some things r kinda incoherent thats why. THANK U AGAIN ANON!!!

[deadboyfriendd]

Volare (Remastered)

This is for you, Jo @jo-harrington . I love you <3

Eddie was gentler with you, fingertips dragging down sides with the softest form of reckless abandon. The sweltering heat of the midwestern summers weighing on your bodies hot and heavy in the baking orange glow refracted over darkened water. The bedsheet beneath you is ironed by the steam of teenage awkwardness dissipating from the body– kisses and touches growing less awkward and more tender, as if he knew that they were now supposed to be registered instead of received. 

His buckle made impressions on the inside of your thigh, metal warmed against the plush soft skin. The grass beneath you danced its wavering dance, a sway that welcomed the coolness of the breeze over the exposed expanse of your back, gracing the overlaying flesh in a ritual of human intimacy. 

Songs of, oh, God’s and small giggles composing intricate tincture waltzes– a gathering drum backing and an underlying hum of soul surrounding your form. You can feel the dirt on your back, his fingers unwrapping you from your cloth confines and introducing you to his home like an heirloom– a home in which he himself haunted.The palms of your hands felt the smooth surface of stone beneath skin, and the dewy droplets from his own flesh dampened them with a waxy residue.

He couldn’t decide if you were still human. You felt human, but the way you were in front of him– celestial and heavenly. There was no way you could be. Your quick, sporadic breath rolled humidity out onto his neck, arms folded over you in fluid angles, a flash of teeth and a breathy laugh. No, he was right, you had to have been an angel. 

+

He couldn’t help but to laugh as you plucked the cigarette from his lip, giving him a chide, “Y’know, these things’ll kill you.” before placing it into your own lips. 

He took it back from you, placating a long drag and a smooth french inhale. Showing off. 

“Yeah… so I’ve heard.” He paused for a moment, taking you in.

Looking into his eyes was a mirror reflection of all of the best parrots of yourself– everything you were supposed to be. His skin shone with a pearlescent haze of sweat, soft locks falling over his shoulder. He beamed your image back at you through long lashes and batted yes. 

“I guess there was never anything I cared enough about leaving behind to stop.” 

+

You held him close to your chest, the gathering drum of mumbles and clumsy sentences replaced by the lub-dub rhythm within you, the quiet gasps and scratching of skin replaced by your own melody of whispers into his ear. He sang along. 

Strings of I love you’s and Is this okay?’s replaced harsh staccatos and haste swears, learning the piano pedal overtures of lovemaking, replacing the spoken poetry of fucking.

An almost feline purr escaped the confines of lungs as you stretched your arms over his back, feeling the calf-skin-stretched-over-marble texture of him. You could feel the way life had toughened him through scars and vibrations of proclamations of love in your spine. 

He had never been loved this tenderly. 

+

Your laugh seemed to fill the entire world around him, burrowing into his brain like a botfly. He couldn’t get you to leave, and you ate away and attached to the pink matter within his head until there was nothing left but you. 

He ran with you through the clearing, only slightly wondering how you could move so gracefully as your bare legs scratched almost violently through the thicket and thorn. He could feel it through his own jeans, but he chased your hand- in search of the warmth and echoes of his own happiness as you cleared out to the blue lake before you. The hill overlooked an empty dock. 

He didn’t care about the way his own legs throbbed, or the way his tar-laden lungs struggled for air, it always felt like he couldn’t breathe around you. 

He pressed his fingers to your back, net yet forceful, but still an invitation into his arms.ou happily obliged, your cool breath wafting over his neck as he shivered. 

+

Toes curled and fingers grasped at the tremendously quiet mouse-rumble between you. Your thighs shook around him, and, as he explored your body tenderly, he silently begged for you to shake and tremble away all of the worries that have plagued him to the bone. Your body a flame igniting his wax candle core and melting his insides. 

Hot tears rolled from your sea-spray eyes and down your Cyprus cheeks, hair blown by Zephyr and a small cry left your birth-of-venus lips. 

To you, he was celestial and grounded all at the same time. You could hardly believe that you could even reach out and touch him. He was spiritual, yet attainable, able to be touched by the human flesh, but almost impossible to be in existence.  

+

His head lay buried in the pillow of your thighs, looking endearingly up at your face as you thumbed through the pages of the novel before you. 

You stumbled over words and paused for kisses in between syllables, and alarming lack of flow within your own space-cadet brain. At this rate, the book would never be finished. You would never see an ending, but he understood this as the only correct way to read from that moment on. 

He could never look at a word again and comprehend it without hearing your voice say it. 

+

He wrote his own history into the book of your life, his fingers flipping through the pages of your body. 

His hands, beginning at your thighs and running up the duration of your being, not only read your words, but studied them. 

His tongue rewrote love back into your lines, but not in the form of quiet mumbles.

He wrote the word "love" into you like fire. He wrote the word "love" into you with only the passion of someone who had seen enough heartbreak to truly know the meaning of the word. 

His words were the color of mulled wine, spilling onto you with intention- he spilled these words into you in the form of art, and soft moans of endearment. 

His tongue began at your neck, but all too slowly traced words that you didn't care to make out down your sternum, across your breasts, and further and further down. 

He spoke the word love in a way that he had never known it.

[st3ddie-starchas3r]

Of course James Potter was Minerva’s favorite. Fleamont is her best friend and she is James Godmother after all.

[gullemoji]

going outside in the field on evening and making out sure is a fun thing to do on vacation i guess

[talentforlying]

thinking about john's multitude of short-lived, often quickly-abandoned apartments for some reason, so a couple details:

although you might expect to find a very wizard-y interior to any place he's currently living at — you know, grimoires, skulls, dust, clutter, etc. — his flats actually tend to be fairly spartan in terms of decor; they've even been accused of looking modern, here and there. he just moves too frequently to really settle in & accrue Things, and has so often had to simply up & leave everything he currently owned behind (with very little chance of getting any of it back) that he no longer attaches much meaning to household objects.

besides the consistent presence of at least one bookshelf with at least 12 books on it, and a sad sprig of garden sage that miraculously hasn't died yet, the one exception to his lack of personal touch is his extensive collection of records + tapes, all of which he has repeatedly & methodically tracked down and bought / bid / traded / stolen / threatened for / blackmailed for / simply taken back whenever an enterprising landlord or new tenant left him the opportunity to do so. his record player itself has never needed to be taken back, since it has always mysteriously vanished from whatever flat he's leaving and mysteriously appeared wherever he's staying; it's convenient like that. his 10th anniversary walkman, however, frequently goes missing, only to turn up again later in a place he KNOWS he checked when he's least expecting it.

lack of home decor isn't to say he doesn't own much, mind: the bulk of his personal possessions — assorted occult paraphernalia, blackmail documentation, miscellaneous crap from his mucous membrane days, and anything he is able to take with him from past flats — are usually stored off-site, in a secure location that can't easily be tied back to him. this guy's been accused of being a satanic killer on multiple occasions, he knows better than to keep all the real shit out where anyone can just swan in and see it.

currently, this storage location (which i lovingly call occult shit central) is an abandoned inner london storefront + adjoining flat that was formerly his old friend ray monde's shop and home, called brick-a-brac antiques. it's decidedly cozier than the last place, (in that there are chairs, plural,) and has fewer bear traps laid out in anticipation of unlucky thieves; in fact, if a person were to visit without already knowing where constantine actually lives, it'd be easy to mistake it as his expectedly-wizardy flat. it's not an ideal location for an occult shit central, too close to the heart of the city and too close to people to avoid drumming up suspicion should constantine attempt any sort of ritual inside, but until chas finally quits ducking the paperwork and signs over his storage lot (which he may or may not be dragging his feet on out of pure resentment for having to do it at all) ray's place is the best option there is.

constantine's previous (and future) storage location was a lock-up in streatham that chas had been letting him use (see: all but surrendered to him entirely) since he got out of ravenscar, but after constantine's sister died, john decided he was done with magic and, in a spontaneous fit of rage, burnt the place down with everything but a few necessities still inside. he regretted this later, when he inevitably returned to the occult scene after just over a year away, and spent a lot of time calling in favors / hypnotizing arson inspectors to try and put together an inventory of everything he'd lost.

in the nearly 20 years since the fire, he's managed to replace or find substitutes for about 2/3 of what he had (occult-wise), and gather enough fresh dirt / do enough favors / orchestrate enough compromising situations to accumulate a little over 1/4 of the political / interpersonal power he once maintained. ( the lack of success in the latter being, in part, because people now in power aren't as familiar with his name & reputation as they once were; in part because people just don't believe in magic as much as they used to, or were otherwise bought by hell / heaven / other parties a LONG time ago; and in part because he's come to absolutely fucking despise most politicians / people in power more than he is willing to work with them, or more than he is able to plausibly believe they won't try to drop him at the first opportunity. )

you would be hard-pressed to find a landlady/landlord that speaks kindly of this man. if he wasn't kicked out for suspicious smells / disturbing noises / sudden infestations / suspected satanic activity, then it's likely that he abruptly up and disappeared in the middle of the night, with no warning and no rent. (on a few occasions, this vanishing act also coincided conspicuously with a gruesome death on the premises, sometimes of the landlady/landlord themselves, although no one's ever been able to prove anything.) frankly it's . . . magic, that people still rent to him.

due to these aforementioned bad ends, he's incredibly lucky if he gets enough time or leeway to take any sort of furniture with him from one place to the next. however, there is one incredibly comfy, wing-backed, sapphire-blue armchair that's miraculously managed to survive every move in the last ten or so years without being reported stolen — even though it has survived every move because it has, in fact, been stolen in the dead of night nearly every single time, by john and at least one of his buddies.

[rabbithaver]

any time he comes back from a shitty apocalyptic future, amy insists silver take a flea bath before using her furniture

[propertyofkylar]

nica do you think kylar has fleas...? be honest girl

realistically? honestly?? he’s definitely got SOMETHING. fleas or lice or bedbugs idk what but. it’s definitely something.

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 3

Them having Stone Monkey (apparently purely on instinct) constantly scratching while being introduced to the troop was pretty cool, since that's a legitimate deescalation behavior in monkeys. Something about how revealing stress acts as a bonding behavior and makes it less likely they'll be attacked. Humans do it too, kind of, when they rub at their hands or shoulders or neck (etc. etc.) when nervous or overwhelmed. ("Empathize with me! I am very stressed!").

Also something-something instinctive behaviors aside Stone Monkey being excited/overwhelmed/maybe a little overstimulated and choosing "ESCALATION!!!" as his response to all of that. He thinks the troop being scared of him is hilarious. He's scratching the fur off his arms but he's also going to get right up in your face anyway. Cautiously join him in admiring his cool new rock? He is going to play-lunge and also scream. Absolutely amazing. The troop has no idea what to do with these mixed signals. This kid is a menace and I love him.

Six Ears even gets in on the scratching behavior occasionally in the background, which might be because Stone Monkey actively terrorizing literally everyone trying to be playful (because he has the social skills of a literal, actual rock) is stressing Six Ears right out or it could be an attempt to deescalate on Stone Monkey's behalf. Monkey version of following in his new friend's wake throwing apologetic grimace-smiles at everyone. Possibly it's both. Point is: They included these behaviors and it's very fun.

You can also tell it worked because in just the journey to the cave you watch the four generals' views on Stone Monkey go from "uncanny valley horror entity lurking in the forest probably to kill us all" to "what a rude little kid >:| Emphasis on RUDE."

And, okay, I admit, I have softened my stance on the four generals. Somewhat. They seem to actually be taking their jobs seriously now. Maybe Episode 1 was a wake-up call and they won't utterly fail to notice an incursion until it's in the heart of their territory again. I don't want to go too crazy, but maybe they'll even be able to even muster a coherent response! Good for them.

Should probably still not be managing children, though.

Speaking of, Six Ears's increasing despair watching the train wreck in motion that was the four generals fumbling hard in giving Stone Monkey his very first etiquette lesson after he finally settled down and seemed willing to hear them out is also very relatable and hilarious. He knows they failed the test. Stone Monkey is definitely never going to listen to them again. They blew it. RIP Flower Fruit Mountain.

Stone Monkey does check in with Six Ears when he decides the generals are useless about explaining though, and that's pretty cute. He trusts his friend :) He also definitely internalizes that thing about having to ask to leave the presence of the king, so at least they managed to teach him some manners. ONE manners. A single manner. (Spoiler: They immediately regret this.)

But hey! This time Six Ears is left entirely to his own devices and still manages to get caught smack in the middle of enemy action. Not the Generals' fault for once! Six Ears just attracts this kind of thing, I guess.

3/3 Six Ears is Damsel-ed, but only 2/3 it's the adults' fault. The tally develops.

[newlunapastel]

hey *leaves with these pics* bye

[randomeeveelutions]

Smoll headcanon that most Eeveelutions would be resistant if not immune to fleas due to the nature of their abilities and forms, such as...

Eevee: Its coat is so dense that parasites tend to suffocate within it

Vaporeon: Semi-Aquatic lifestyle keeps bugs at bay when it enters the water, especially with its little melting habit

Jolteon: Electricity coarses through its pelt like a bug zapper

Flareon: Attacks such as Flare Blitz and Flame Charge, in which it coats itself in fire and charges enemies, burns any fleas that may be in its fur

Umbreon: Sweats literal poison

Glaceon: On top of living in cold environments where insects would struggle in the first place, it has a habit of freezing its fur so it sticks up like needles, almost certainly killing any bugs clinging to it

Sylveon: Emits calming aura from its ribbons, pacifying anything looking to take a bite out of it

Espeon and Leafeon would be vulnerable to fleas, doubly so since they're weak to bug-types in the first place.

[grimescum]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎my toyhouse | my bluesky | my ko-fi

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ personal blog. fandom, ocs, fanart, editing,

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ gifs, occasional writing

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ no 18+ only blog interaction, i am a minor.

(under construction !!!!!)

call me jalyn, flea, dizzy, or skippy!! i'm 17, het, i use she/he/they/it pronouns and am fine with any gendered terms.

i have autism, bpd, adhd and tourettes, and i'm hypersexual. i post and/or vent about all of these

i have special interests in horror, psychology, animals, fashion and anything i find nostalgic

if you think we are friends we are most certainly friends <3 i get attached very easily

i love selfshippers!!!! i love oc x canon!!!!

i may vaguepost at times, though not about people whom i'm following or are following me. i just do this to get my immediate and more intense feelings off my chest. they may be wrong, and i'm open to discussion

i'm open to discussion in general!! if i say anything wrong or if you think my logic is ever skewed, please feel free to question or correct me as long as you do so respectfully

if you'd like or feel comfortable enough to do so, i'd appreciate it if you told me before blocking (mutuals only really) or unfollowing me. it helps with my anxiety and paranoia.

i have a lot of ocs and love them dearly. you are welcome to ask questions about them!! our ocs can be friends <3

content tws for clowns, themes of obsessive love, violence, sadism, occasional gore

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♥︎ my most treasured oc ♥︎

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ♡ flea talks flea's art flea's ocs flea's edits flea's clips mecore fav imp

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 | 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 ♡ jjba lupin iii mob psycho reanimator slashers dorohedoro dungeon meshi fear and hunger golden kamuy guilty gear hellsing hlvrai kaiji metalocalypse scott pilgrim the magnus archives

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 | 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 | 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 ♡ axl billy faust goemon hijikata jan jigen laios ogata shuro slayer tommy tsukishima tsurumi walter

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 | 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 | 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 ♡ a.b.a samarie

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 | 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 | 𝘰𝘤𝘴 ♡ raymond frenzy claudine alan penngrim jerry wiktor yuki pam

kofi | toyhouse | ocs for offer | character playlists

𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 ♡ @/fleaseditstuff, @/fhsprites

[deadboyfriendd]

Eddie Munson

String Lights

The Flea and The Acrobat

Headliners

Kate

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty

The Girls in the Band

Sockpuppet

Video Girl

Cochise

Wild Horses

The Science Fiction Double Feature

[hellbleided]

flea tag dump .

. meta . › flea .

. study . › flea .

. about . › flea .

. aes . › flea .

. musings . › flea .

. skills . › flea .

. headcanon . › flea .

. thread . › flea .

. answers . › flea .

. face claim . › flea .

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

Bojack had fleas once while filming horsin around he insisted Sarah lynn gave him lice but no the poor guy has fleas

[swe3tte4rs]

" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons

Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?

Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.

And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.

Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.

TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think

Nightwing / Dick Grayson

Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.

He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.

Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.

I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.

A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.

You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.

Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.

He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."

"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"

I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.

Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.

The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.

Jason Todd / Red Hood

When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇

Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.

And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.

I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭

I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.

And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)

He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.

Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"

Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?

Tim Drake / Red Robin

He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.

Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.

He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.

If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)

"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."

Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.

Damian Wayne / Robin

I think he wouldn't care about your job

He's like, the most attached to you.

After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.

Also at the galas.

Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.

I think that at first Talia wouldn't like you, but after several talks with her and assuring her that you're not going to do anything to Damian, you could even be friends.

Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.

"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."

You're like Jon's second mom.

His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass is the vice president of your fan club.

Cass loves you infinitely.

She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.

She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.

She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.

Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.

She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!

Skincare routine between you and her.

You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.

She would have a lot of admiration for you.

I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.

But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.

I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

She is the President of your fan club.

Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.

"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"

I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."

Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.

She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.

Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.

You rarely have love attacks towards her.

But she adores them.

Every chance she would go shopping with you.

Duke thomas / The Signal

Just let me...

Duke is your photographer.

He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.

He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.

Only if they insult you would he get serious.

He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.

You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.

He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.

I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.

But in the end you end up buying everything for him.

Barbara Gordon / Oracle

Yes, I added Barbara, okay?

In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇

The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.

Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.

Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.

I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.

Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.

Barbara would value and care for you deeply.

[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Muse 🖌️| Ameond Tagaryen Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen marrying a noble who sketches/paints would look like:

To no surprise, your union to Aemond was a political alliance between your houses. Therefore you put on a brave face, accepted your duty, and courted the Prince for a short time before the wedding. In that time you learned a few things about Aemond, as he was rather reserved in the beginning, and you were the same. Civilized conversations, setting boundaries and expectations of the marriage, and promising not to cross the others line. 

Having fell in love with art at a young age, you were always sketching in your notebook when alone--as your father discouraged your hobbies and expected you act like the rest of the people in court. So, hidden behind the walls of your chambers or in an empty courtyard with a quill or charcoal in hand, you sketched the beauties around you. The Godswood, the Blackwater Bay. The Septa Baelor and the Red Keep. Committing the image of the Iron Throne to memory, you inked a page with the mighty chair. 

Beneath your bed you kept a trunk filled with oil paints, brushes, canvases, and other supplies you'd manage to accumulate by sneaking out to Flea Bottom with the one maid you trusted. (Not to mention you paid her a descent coin to keep your secret). All you sketched in your notebook soon took claim to a canvas. Capturing the beautiful scenery of King's Landing, you painted ships sailing in with a dragon flying in the background. Standing for hours from your bedchamber balcony, taking days or even weeks to finish the masterpiece. 

With each finished portrait, you yearned for the next. Spending all your coin and pawning off materialist things given on namedays to rather buy supplies. Soon the only person besides your maid who knew of your secret hobby/talent was Helaena. You'd often spend time with the Princess and her children that one day, when asked about things that made you happy, you told her about your art. She instantly became intrigued, requesting to see the sketches/paintings and after thinking about it you eventually did show her. 

Helaena was in awe of your work. "I've seen many paintings in the castle, and none have captured the King's Landing the way you do. You have an eye for beauty---I think you'd paint the family portraits better than the man they always hire." Soon your meetings evolved to you sitting by the windowsill sketching while Helaena focused on her embroidery while the children played. As a surprise nameday present for the Princess, you gifted her a portrait of her and the twins flying upon Dreamfyre. "This is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. I shall cherish it forever and pass it on to my daughter when she's older." 

Around this time, you and Aemond's relationship progressed. You two went on walks, talked more and more with each day, and accompanied him to tourneys and banquets. Your admirations for him grew, turning into genuine love roughly four moons into your marriage. Long hours in the library, watching him train, and waiting for the other to arrive at the table before diving into your meal. Quality time became the thing you both valued in your relationship. Growing to compliments and light kisses to the cheek. 

Aemond had no idea of your talent. Yet he did often wonder where you'd disappear to for hours. He'd see the ink on your hands and assume you were writing letters back home. Then he noticed charcoal stains and oils on your clothes. Since your chambers were still separate, he had no knowledge of your supplies hidden under your bed or how there was an easel on the balcony where you often painted. 

It wasn't until he caught sight of the painting in the nursery that Aemond discovered your knack for the arts. Helaena had been embroidering while the children played, and you were having tea with the Queen, when Aemond asked his sister where she got the painting commissioned. Not realizing you hadn't told her brother, Helaena responded with, "Your spouse surprised me with it on my nameday. They painted it themself---Isn't it lovely?" To say he was stunned was an understatement. Aemond's jaw had dropped, scanning over the canvas with intensity, muttering so low Helaena barely heard him, "It is...exceptional."

On a mission to find you, Aemond hurried the halls with haste, now aware why you always had stains on your clothes and ink on your hands. Why you spent hours in the gardens and looked tired at breakfast. When he did eventually find you, Aemond simply said, "Why did you never tell me you liked to draw and paint?" Of course you were caught off guard, becoming nervous and shrunk under his gaze, "I did not think it was important. I was always told arts and music was not for someone of noble rank like us. I feared you'd be disappointed with me." 

Aemond was a little hurt you kept your love for art hidden but understood. And from then on he made it his goal to learn everything he could about the subject. Trading gifts of jewelry for oils, charcoals, and inks. Making sure you had enough parchment and canvases. Aemond never pressured you to show him your work, knowing how personal it is for an artist, and instead asked about your progress. Beaming at the way you instantly light up and spoke with pride. 

He had a feeling you sketched him in your notebook. Catching you glancing up at him multiple times when he reads in the library, your hand scattering across the page with ease. Aemond would purposefully maintain his position even when he's finished the book, as to not move and make you mess up. Smiling at the charcoal staining your fingers and silently hoping one day you'd allow him to see what inked your parchment. 

Completely unaware he became your source of inspiration. Your muse. You not only sketched Aemond reading, but him training in the yard. Him speaking to his mother, his brother. Aemond with the twins. Aemond watching Vhagar patrol the skies and feeding his horse. You were mesmerized with everything about him. The Prince who conquered obstacles that made you feel like you were the only person on the planet. Aemond was your heart and soul. He was your muse. 

And so on your 1-year anniversary, you surprised your husband with a gift he never would've expected. A painting of him and Vhagar. The one-eyed prince, known for his stoic nature, was nearly reduced to tears by the emotion consuming his entire being. His finger trailing over the scales of his dragon, the details of his riding gear and scar. How you managed to make it look like they were flying in the sky. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, "One day, if you allow me, I would love to have you sit for me for a portrait." 

And when that time came, Aemond sitting in his pristine clothes, bearing his sapphire eye to you as a proclamation of his love and trust for you, you brought out your finest oils and brushes. Painting the man you loved the way you saw him, a beauty in the eyes of the beholder. A muse to an artist.