#headcannon stuff

[froggybrainz]

I think it'd be very cool and awesome and cool and rad if you had any headcanons or just facts about your versions of Creepypastas

Oh, goodie, headcannon time! (I get to ramble!)

Just to let ya know, the only ones I really got headcannons on are my main guys (Jack, Will, Frankie, and my OCs). Most stuff is farther back on my blog

Jack:

He's old old but he can only remember as far as when he met Issac. Everything else is blurry. Jack has a very broad range of abilities, ranging from shape-shifting to possession, but all that depends on whether or not Entity(his creator) finds entertainment in him. He can have more access to Entity's powers, but if they decide that they'll rather watch him get torn apart, then so be it. He's a romantic, but his ideas of romance are a lil different, tho.

So for Jack I've mentioned awhile back that when he was first created that he started off as a doll and developed into a more human like appearance as he gotten older like he's growing up into a man kinda thing. Well, he can also revert back if he gets put in uncomfortable situations or like when he got abandoned by Issac. The lack of physical and emotional support causes him to shut in on him, making him seem lifeless(like a doll). So, no blinking or breathing, he converts back to doll.-.

He's a secret sweetheart under all that anger and murderous tendencies. He might kill you if you found out, tho. He got this far known as The Devils Puppet, and he'll be damned to have anyone slip a word out that he likes someone (for their sake)

Willie:

He's 26 but has the body of a 50-year-old cause he's been doing dumb crap that he ends up regretting the next day. He's Jack lil errand boy, but they both do some pretty dumb stuff together. The more the marrier. If this guy was a drink it be Bush light. Sunburnt with a dip in his lip, but he's a child at heart.

William met Jack shortly after his grandfather died due to being attacked by feral anomalies in the rural countryside. Now his grandfather was his everything, his parents never gave him a time of day to be with their son but him. So sometime, goes by, and young Will meets a strange older looking man (Jack has the ability to shape-shift) who reminds Will of his grandfather. He was a grumpy old man who didn't like kids, but Will loved him all the same.

Now their relationship was, for the most part, Jack treating Will, like a pet, but he wasn't mean to him. Well, he wasn't very affectionate towards Will, but he never hit him. It wasn't for til Will got older when Jack realized just how much that country bumpkin of a boy cared for him. So what happened was that Jack got attacked by that same group of ferals, and Will was not gonna let them take his grandpa away from him again so full of rage Will takes his gun and kills the ferals before finally collapses in Jack's arms cause he thought he was gonna lose him. Jack started treating him better after that.

Frankie:

Just a flower child, I like the idea if he was born around the 1960s when hippies became popular as the movement to protest that not all anomalies are monsters and that they should be treated fairly. His father was an "undead" or "zombie," as the media called them while his mom was a human. Cross breading was a big no no and still is due to most humans and anomaly both actively attacking each other. (For those wondering, the anomalies can range from ferals to more intelligent individuals like slender or what not)

I still want to keep the idea that he's a bounty hunter, so a hippie with a gun sounds fun. He wants peace, but in a world full of hate, he often receives racism from both humans and anomalies, so he gets reminded that he's an abomination a lot...( ma poor boi). However, while on a case to hunt down, the Slenderman he ends up changing his plans to find out more about who's really pulling the strings in this mad world, but those answers rest in what's known as The Garden.

[sketchy-tour]

Another thing I wanna draw sometime but for now will simply blab about to my captive audience of followers /affectionate haha

But I love imagining Wally stims by tapping his hands. Like on his knees, or the counter at Howdy's, or on a fence. It's a slow tap with not any specific rhythm.

And of course, he'd absolutely mirror stims you cannot change my mind. The idea of seeing someone bounce on their heels as a stim only for Wally to see it and start slowly bouncing along with them to join in on the excitement warms my heart.

[starbula]

@kal-elois

The first iteration of this fic was definitely more of an angry Peter that causes a scene, but I couldn't quite get an ending I liked so I scrapped it.

As for what Nebula's up to, I think she's finally living her life on her own terms for the first time, and wanted to go on dates and explore this side of herself. I saw this fic as being in the very early days for Nebula and Peter. Like Nebula still thinks Peter hasn't moved on from Gamora, Peter is only just realizing that what he's feeling for Nebula is not just friendship, etc.

[stonedeafdogarch]

       thinking about emils signature specifically 

[hollis-art]

look at them go, the majestic creatures

[dvcky-duck]

hiiiii guyss ^_^

ok byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ^U^

[random-dragon-exe]

Okay now, I'm wondering if Peri's baby wand was transformed into his current wand.

I mean I know that the current one is supposed to merely resemble it as a reference, but I kinda like the idea that Peri transformed it into the current one himself to reflect his growth and personality.

You know the idea of holding onto a childhood item because of its sentimental value?

I imagine Peri held onto it because it reminded him of his childhood and his time with Timmy; it was his way of keeping a piece of him with him.

Besides, if Jorgen can change his wand from a peace sign to a regular star-shaped wand for later:

Then I don't see why Peri could transform his wand too.

Maybe the regular wands we see are like the standard look, but fairies could alter/transform their wands as they please if they want to. (But most if not all, fairies choose the standard look).

[civetside]

When I was thinking about my own headcanons for TLT, I realized that as the only other surviving "child", Ortus as the "older brother" probably had to keep the feral lesbians from killing each other with their teeth.

And of course being encouraged in his poetry by (probably) Gideon, to piss off Harrow.

(I just like how the three surviving children are two feral lesbians, and a mucusy poet.)

[stankworth]

after many years of being strong // may you have the chance to be gentle again

[imaginariumwanderer]

Height differences

[ricky-mortis]

Criminally, this is the first time I’ve ever drawn the Informant.

[pfhwrittes]

(based off @xoxunhinged's post)

what about ww2 RAF pilot gaz wooing you with his clothing and sugar rations, just handing his ration book over to you with a wink? or "acquiring" the silk from the ruined parachutes so you can make yourself a wedding dress?

what about him trading cigarettes for chocolate and nylon stockings with the american airmen?

what about gaz walking you home like a gentleman after the village hall closes after the dance due to the blackouts?

what about gaz tucking the teeny tiny photograph you sent him into his breast pocket? what about gaz hiding perfume spritzed letters from his bunk mates under his pillow?

what about gaz who dreams of the day this bloody war ends so he can whisk you down the aisle?

[dani-fox]

DAYILY REMINDER TO THE TF2 FANDOM

Pyro is a grown ass adult.

Pyro is not cannonly a child.

Pyro is a grown adult. who cannonly ran his own business, who suffers from a mental illnesses, and shouldn't be infantlised just because Pyro acts silly.

Pyro can be in a romantic relationship if you want them to be

Pyro can be aroace and not interested in romance and gender if you want them to be

Pyro can be a elderish Abomination if you want it to be

Pyro can be a cis man if you want him to be

Pyro can be a butch lesbian it you want her to be

Pyro can be in a father child relationship with engineer if you want

Just DONT push your ideologies onto others

I've seen so many posts about peaple getting mad at Texas Toast shippers for 'proshipping'

Pyro and Engineer are not cannonly in a father son relationship. Those two are grown consenting non-related adults!

So if you see Pyro and Engineer as family, that's fine just don't go into every goddam Texas Toast comment section and go "Erm actually they are father n son" because no one like you if you do that. That is why you don't get invited to partys Steve! Because you are the fun cops!

Seriously: Just don't do that bullcrap you weirdos. Not everyone thinks like you so just respect their opinion(unless its proshipping. Then don't respect the proshippers)

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[caycanteven]

He likes what he sees. 🫵

Husbone appreciation in the midst of my busyness.

[st-froy]

I like playing skeleton dress up

[d0llcuries]

could you make a one-shot or hc (idk) of things neteyam does to show love to his partner and loving and deep thoughts he has about her? please

neteyam isn’t shy when it comes to showing love, especially when it’s you.

he perceives love as something to be demonstrated openly, proudly.

from the moment he decided that you were the one for him, it was as though something primal and unshakable settled into his bones, dictating his every move around you with a sense of purpose.

that being said, hunting is one of the first things he uses to display his affection.

it is what he knows, what he has been trained to do since his hands were old enough to grip a bow. but when it comes to you, hunting takes on a new significance.

he does not just hunt for survival—he hunts to provide for you, to ensure that you have the finest meat, the best cuts. when he returns from a successful hunt, he brings the kill to you with a quiet pride, his chest puffed out just a little more as he lays the offering at your feet.

he watches your reaction closely, waiting for the moment your lips curve into that soft smile that makes his heart race, waiting for the look of approval that makes the hours of tracking, stalking, and fighting worth every second.

his hands never stray far. public displays of affection are a given with him

he is unapologetic in his need to touch you. he doesn’t care if his family sees. in fact, he relishes it. if he senses even the slightest bit of fluster in you, it only encourages him.

if it makes you blush? good. that means he’ll do it again—so casual about it, like he doesn’t even realize.

he relishes in the way you shy away, pretending to be annoyed, but he knows the truth—you love the attention just as much as he loves giving it.

but goodness it wouldn't kill him to show a little more propriety.

he purrs, too, openly and without a trace of shame.

it doesn't matter if it’s just you two are alone or in the middle of a crowd. you touch him? he purrs. you laugh? he purrs. it’s automatic, and he doesn’t try to hide it, his chest rumbling every time you’re close.

he makes sure you hear it, because it’s for you.

your mere presence makes him so instinctively happy why should he surpress that?

he's so inadvertently supportive whenever you do anything.

when you cook him a meal, for example, the second the food touches his lips, he’s looking at you like you just saved his life. close to tears and everything, he’s going on about how he’s never tasted anything better, and he’ll probably say the same thing next time.

he genuinely believes that what you’ve made is a gift, something special just for him, and his heart swells with the knowledge that you’ve put effort into caring for him in this way.

my favourite animal is neteyam when he doesn’t receive at least three kisses or more from you in a day.

can you blame him? his days are long and exhausting, spent with his father barking orders and chasing after tuk to keep her from wandering off. so, of course, he looks forward to the moment he can feel your soft lips on his, the one moment of peace he can count on.

if you withhold a kiss, it’s like a stab in the chest. his ears flatten, tail droops, and his big amber eyes well up like he’s been abandoned in the middle of the forest. there’s a desperate edge to his voice, thick with disbelief—how could you deny him?

he’ll practically sink to his knees, hands reaching for you, putting on the most dramatic performance ever just for you.

if you decide to tease him on a particularly hard day where he doesn't have the patience required for such theatrics, he'll just scoop you up and haul you over his shoulder, kissing you until you can’t remember what you were supposed to be doing.

it’s not negotiable—three kisses, minimum, every day, or he’ll never let you hear the end of it.

neteyam loves deeply, fiercely, and in every little gesture, he makes sure you feel it.

he wonders if you know how much space you take up in his head. he thinks about you constantly.

one instance of this is when he's left alone with his thoughts on a particularly long hunting trip that lasted more than one day.

neteyam lays on the cold ground, the stars above him stretching endlessly, and yet, despite their beauty, all he can think about is the empty space beside him. it’s strange, how the absence of something so small—your quiet, rhythmic snores—can leave him feeling so lost. the other hunters of the group snore but that does not guide him to sleep quite as easily as your sounds do. he chuckles to himself, though there’s no one around to hear it. she would never believe me if i told her, he thinks, swears she doesn’t snore. but you do. soft little sounds that lull him to sleep every night.

without them, the silence feels oppressive. he shifts, trying to get comfortable, but nothing works. the coolness of the forest at night wraps around him, but it doesn’t bring the peace he’s used to. not like when he’s with you. back home, when he can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, when the sound of your breathing fills the space between his heartbeats. it’s then he realizes how much he depends on those little things, the ones you would never even think about.

he closes his eyes, trying to picture your face. eywa, it’s only been a few days, and i already miss her this much. it’s embarrassing, really.

his mind wanders to the rosy tip of your flat nose. it looks just like the petals of a lortsyawll, he thinks absentmindedly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

he swears, if he could just hear your laugh, even for a moment, it would make this whole hunt more bearable. i hate being away from her.

he shifts again, turning on his side and curling his body into itself, hoping that maybe if he closes his eyes tight enough, he’ll be able to pretend you’re here. but the weight of your absence is heavy. the way your soft hand always finds his when you walk together. the sound of your voice, soft and low when you’re sleepy. the way you tease him, lighthearted but full of affection. he misses the way you press your forehead to his when you’re trying to comfort him, even over something small. he needs that now—needs you.

nothing feels right without you beside him. the hunt is going well, but even the thrill of the chase can’t distract him from the fact that, at the end of the day, when the adrenaline fades and the world quiets down, it’s you he longs for. i need her, he admits to himself, the thought settling deep in his chest. i always need her.

you are always there, in the back of his mind, shaping his every action, his every decision. he doesn’t need anyone else’s approval, doesn’t care what others think—as long as you’re proud of him, as long as you’re his, that’s all that matters.

she’s everything, he thinks, for the hundredth time that day, and yet, it still feels like an understatement.

i should be asleep but this request was too good!!