#one william headcanons go

[crunchybeards]

Clown Lyle is now real in 2025

Also did a wee redesign of my Human/ Pre-Visitor Lyle design. Once again projecting really hard with his fucked up glasses because a lot of my glasses are absolutely scuffed.

[1800-lemon-boy]

Friendly reminder that a lot of the characters that blatantly show autism traits are overlooked (Will, Jason) or seen as strange/scary (Nico, Leo, Annabeth)

<33

[bluebellwrenart]

All of my Black Ops ladies in formal outfits 💛💙❤️🖤

From left to right—

Joanne (Mason's wife, David's mother), Lillian (paired with Weaver), Claire (paired with Adler), Nadia (OC!Bell, paired with Woods)

[smokingcitrus]

as unkempt as he always was, i'd like to think that birkin at least tried to look put together in his early days. the middle part was him trying to look professional past the hairs sticking in every direction and the back of his haircut never looking quite right.

his mother's nagging about his appearance seemed to linger in the back of his mind even after he moved out, going days, weeks, years without talking to her. any real meaning or even importance behind the self-grooming was lost, boiled down to habit. taking a minute to pick through his matted hair with a broken comb in the morning was a ritual that kept him sane. it grounded him.

the evential side part was him letting go of the half-cobbled man that he used to be, relinquishing what little identity he had in pursuit of finishing his life's work. even until his final moments, golgotha had always come first.

[wh0re4elliewilliams]

Date night with Ellie

[dee-in-the-box]

y'know. had a thought.

so like. Dave's nonbinary to me. he just gives the vibe.

i headcanon that Henry's transmasc, just that no one can Tell and he never really brings it up unless it's in passing.

so like. here's the headcanon i have:

in their earlier days of working together, Henry kinda realized that Dave had like. no legal documents. none. not a driver's license, not any ID in general, nothing.

Dave just mentions that he might have a birth certificate out there somewhere, but even then that might be a MAYBE. and if he does have one, he has no clue how to access it, or where it is.

so Henry just...decides to get him some. (mostly by forging them, but hey, he's good at doing that)

it's only when they get to Gender that Dave starts having questions. it's at This Point Henry realizes that, despite Dave having a masculine name and all that, he kinda. doesn't really Have a gender. nor cares what it is. because he's mostly just gone along with whatever people called him on the streets up until this point (he's mostly been referred to as an 'it' for most of his life...not that he's ever fully minded those pronouns, either. he Has been referred to like a girl a few times, due to the long hair, though!)

unfortunately, they've gotta put something down, and they've only got two options. Dave finds this stupid, as does Henry. eventually, Dave asks like. how do humans determine gender? like what standards should he go by here? Henry responds "generally at birth, they determine your gender by whatever your genitals are. it's a rather simplified version of it, but that's mostly how it is done."

so then Dave asks (in a rather Dave-like fashion): so what's his gender if he happens to have a dick, then?

so Henry just kinda pinches the bridge of his nose and goes "you'd be considered male, then."

so that's what they put on there, but only because they had to put something down.

just y'know. a weird headcanon i had because like. i thought about it, and i realized that when Dave started working with Henry he likely wouldn't have like. Any sort of real identification on him. and he'd likely need to get some at some point. and he Obviously wouldn't know how to get documents the Normal Way (made more difficult by the fact he's a cryptid), so Henry goes "well. i did once, i can do it again."

also, someone teach Dave about what being nonbinary means, he'd have a heyday. (< aka Finally Has A Word To Describe His Gender)

[hawksblooded]

⤖ indie & selective ALIZEBETH KENWAY,  a fandomless original character from own lore.

⤖   generic fantasy & fandom verses available. strictly 21+ .  ⤖ sideblog to @henosiis. written by KAT! ⤖ affiliated with @fishermcn, @swordluck, @gormlessthing

Exploring grief, duty, acceptance, friendship, misfortune, necessity, justice ⤖ DOSSIER

[queeringclassiclit]

Ophelia

from Hamlet by William Shakespeare (1623)

submitted by @cg920fire who said:

I saw some trans Ophelia headcanons on Tumblr and was curious about whether or not there's some trans subtext in the play that flew over my head. What also contributed to my curiosity was when I hosted an AMA about my AU version of her, and someone asked why I made her cis. I was confused by it, unsure about how to answer it. Everyone I had brought it up to all agreed that it was a weird question since Ophelia doesn't seem to be explicitly trans-coded in the text as far as I know and doesn't engage in gender fuckery like Shakespeare's crossdressing characters. However, I'm still open to the possibility that I did indeed miss some trans subtext about her.

[princesssarcastia]

ALRIGHT NERDS it's reveal time. here's the fic i wrote for the rare pair exchange, the very first fic exchange i've ever participated in. it is the second-longest thing i've ever written and published for fandom, which is crazy.

Fandom: Mission: Impossible

Word count: 14,491

Pairing: Ilsa Faust/Ethan Hunt/William Brandt

SUMMARY:

Ilsa "dies" and has to find a place to lay low, outside of the narrative. There, she finds Will. He's spent years trying to make a home there, unsuccessfully—until now. Meanwhile, with the ever-watchful eyes of the Entity trained on him, Ethan pines desperately, wordlessly, so hard he might as well put down roots and call himself an evergreen.

Written for the lovely and prolific @brendaonao3; i DID geek out a little when i got the assignment, ngl. big fan of your top gun stuff!

[scary-lasagna]

The Christmas Express of the Underrealm, Pt I.

The sun has long since set over the rooftop of the manor, and clocks throughout the resident's rooms eagerly ticked down to midnight, for when Santa would arrive and chuck presents lovingly under the giant tree set in the middle of the foyer.

Slender made sure to simmer the fireplace early, so it would be cool enough to travel down, yet still strategically hold a bit of toasty warmth in contrast to the bitter cold and snow Santa would be facing throughout the night. The tall man ushered everyone off to bed early, clearing out the most populated rooms, and even wagging a finger at Jane for attempting to hide in her designated reading nook with [Y/N].

It's been long since Splendor tucked Sally into bed, and answered most of the Santa-related questions he could. Most of which he pinned on asking Slender tomorrow morning when she opened presents.

The pink walls and frills of her room only stared back at her as she kept her eyes overly wide to struggle to stay awake. The princess canopy made this more difficult, willingly placed there to create a mock sense of snoozy comfort made for a princess. Butterflies and other whimsical insects littered the bare spots of the wall around posters and self-painted portraits of herself and those she claims as her family. Vintage and modern toys alike neatly lined her rather large windowsill, along with paintbrushes used for her lovely portraits, getting the best view of when Santa comes along with his reindeer.

The 8-year-old crossed her fingers together and rested her intertwined hands on her stomach as she patiently waited… She looked over at the window, her toys still keeping an eye out for her as she pretended to sleep.

And waited.

She hummed an old tune to herself, attempting to smartly keep her mind busy enough to stay awake.

…And waited.

Sally lay in her bed, being very careful to not rustle any sheets, while breathing slowly and quietly. After all, how else could she listen for the ringing bells of Santa's sleigh? It might only be a quarter after 10, long past her bedtime, especially on Christmas Eve, but if The Great Claus were to travel across the realm, his sleigh would have to be the size of an ocean liner, and a total of three days to do it. Things just weren't adding up this year. So Sally decided she'd stay up to face the truth, and wondered quite a lot why she was still hearing footsteps outside of her room.

Why were people up if it's almost midnight? They're supposed to be in bed! Everyone knows that, it's literally in the song. Someone grumbled something about a cabin. It sounded like [Y/N]. The footsteps faded down the stairs.

He knows when you're sleeping and when you're awake, so it's only implied that you have to be sleeping by the time he gets here, or you'll be placed on the naughty list last minute!

What silly rules those are. Maybe Sally wanted a glass of water at midnight, would Santa deprive a dehydrated child of water just to put presents under the tree?

Her thoughts ceased to a screeching halt as her door popped open, a pencil-thin light peering into her safe space.

Holy SHIT is that Santa?

Sally shot up like a rocket, quickly peering through the door crack. It widened, revealing a shape that was nowhere near the size of a big jolly fat man and eight reindeer. Well, nine, if you include the weird outcast with a red nose.

In fact, it was a much, much smaller frame. Probably the shortest adult she's ever encountered.

"Ben, what do you want from me? I'm trying to sleep here." Sally huffed and plopped her head back into her pillow in aggravation. There's nothing that could be more important than the arrival of Santa.

Nothing.

"I just had a feeling you were still up, is all." Ben leaned on the doorframe for a second, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, why not? You already ruined it." Sally gripped her covers and turned over with a haste that was too overly dramatic to imply anything short of spoiled annoyance.

"Ruined what?" Ben took the invitation with ease, and sat on her bedside. "It's not even midnight yet." He glanced at the ticking clock on her bedside to make sure, and sure enough it was still counting down to 10:30.

"Well, you and everyone else are up, which means Santa isn't going to come!" Sally threatened the verge of tears now, with so much frustration in a tiny body like hers, the only way of release is through waterworks.

"Ooohh, so you don't know?"

Sally roughly turned her head toward Ben, yet her body lay still. "What?" She pouted.

"All of those myths are outdated. Santa's really with the times now," Ben shrugged smugly, "and it doesn't matter whether there are people awake or not, he knows how to find a way to sneak past them and place presents under the tree. They're invisible until morning, so even if a kid sneaks down to peek, they won't be there!"

Sally supposed that made sense. But she didn't admit it. After all, why would Splendor lie about having to stay in bed until morning?

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be sleeping though." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and attempted to leave, but Sally had one last thing to say.

"I'm not sleeping tonight. I'm listening for the bells on Santa's sleigh."

Ben smiled, and nodded knowingly at the door frame. "Wake me up when he gets here, then."

The door clicked shut, and Sally sank into her mattress with great comfort. She blamed her sleepiness on the canopy, and weakly shook a fist toward it with a sleepy groan.

Her eyelids held too much weight to keep prying open, and slipped, and fell into a cozy and warm darkness of slumber.

[spring-lxcked]

genuinely was thinking abt william in his SB verse still cooking meals generally considered to be family meals because that's what he was accustomed to cooking, got sad, and then remembered that i can not feel bad for this dude

[ponds-of-ink]

Day 10 of saying William almost entered clown college when he was a teen.

Hey, since it’s a week to Ruin, I wonder if I can throw in some hypothetical SB-era head-canons into the mix. We’ll see.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[staargxzer]

𓂃　 ⁺ ₊ slow downˊ˗

⭒ synopsis ᵎ 〜 headcanons for dealer!ellie x good girl!reader in a college setting. enjoy ;) ⭒ content ᵎ 〜 mdni top!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering (r!receiving), strap-on (r!receiving), mention of weed, degradation, dacryphilia, mirror sex ⭒ word count ᵎ 〜 1.1k ⭒ notes ᵎ 〜 some short headcanons as an apology for being away

⁺  you’re the kind of girl who colour codes her notes and religiously says “thank you” to bus drivers. you would’ve never even dreamed of smoking weed, but here you were. texting a dealer, on your own, because your friend had convinced you that ellie’s weed would calm your nerves.  everyone who’s anyone knows ellie williams. strap god, weed extraordinaire, chaotic lesbian. the epithets pile up. but to you? ellie’s warm, charming, and a demon in bed (but everyone knew that, too).

⁺  ellie shows up to your dorm smelling like weed and oil, guitar case slung haphazardly over her bare shoulder and licking sugar off her thumb from the gas station rock candy she had bought on the way there. it was weirdly seductive. she knows you're innocent from the moment her murky half-lidded eyes met your own blown-out ones. the way you introduced yourself only reinforced her idea that you had definitely never done anything like this before: “hi… i’m __, i think i texted you?” as if she might say no. “yeah, sweetheart, y’did. you usually this nervous?”

⁺  when you tell her you’ve never smoked before, she goes soft. not sweet, by any means, but interested. next thing you know she’s rolling up a new joint with the weed she brought and making you take the first hit, coaching you through every movement. “don’t hold it too long. there you go, nice n slow. i got you, baby” then, “you ever kiss someone?” she’s asking while leaning into you, barely giving you time to even process her question before her lips are moving against yours with a fervor that could scare the gods.

⁺  after that, you’re all she thinks about. not the girls who beg her to eat them out at frat parties. you, with your pink lipgloss and apologies and virginity she wants to destroy.

⁺  ellie talks you into coming over to hangout for a “smoke sesh”. promising a genuinely chill night and bribing you with the opportunity to see her play her guitar (something nobody’s ever gotten to see). the chill doesn’t last long. it’s not ellie’s fault, really. who could keep their hands off of you when you’re smiling so pretty and your eyes are falling closed after only two hits? she’s touching you slow, her hand building up your thigh and ghosting over the heat radiating from your cunt. “anyone ever touch ya here?” you shake your head and she’s suddenly grinning like a devil. “want me to be your first?” you nod this time, and her smile grows impossibly wider. you don’t even realize your rocking into her hand until you hear her chuckling into your ear, breath hot on your neck, “i’ll take care of you, baby.”

⁺  she goes so slow. kissing down your stomach and latching onto your thighs. she pulls your panties down with her teeth, just to be able to see the blush grow across your cheeks.

⁺  she eats you out like she has all night. you’ve never been touched like this before, and every whimper and squirm only fuels ellie’s fire more. her eyes are gazing up at you when she slips her finger in for the first time. she relishes in the feeling of your core, the way you squeeze around her whenever she hits just the right spot and the sound of your gasps when her tongue brushes against your puffy clit.

⁺  ellie was known for hitting and dipping, but for some reason she just couldn’t shake you. maybe it was the way her hands carved into your hips so perfectly, or the way your whimpers sounded so sweet in her ear when she was plunging her fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt. whatever it was, ellie knew she couldn’t let you go. you’re her favourite thing to ruin.

⁺  she won’t stop texting you. ‘you up?’ ‘wanna come over and let me make you cry again?’ ‘miss your thighs around my head’ once she knows what she wants, she’ll do anything to get it. you’re officially ruined for anyone else. you walk through the campus glowing, thighs sore, deep-purple marks hidden beneath your classy turtleneck. no one suspects that the quiet good girl with a pastel tote bag gets fucked into the stratosphere three times a week by ellie fucking williams.

⁺  she starts bringing her guitar when you two meet. she plays songs that no one’s heard before, ones that are clearly about you. she’ll sing to you in between rounds, with your head in her lap and your panties somewhere across the room.

⁺  ellie gets territorial. your hers, and everyone needs to know that. she makes you sit on her lap everywhere, hand always on your waist and a nasty glare directed at the frat boys who try to talk to you. she loves to mark you up, leaving hickeys all over you. especially in places only she’s allowed to see. she’ll lend you her clothes and beg you to wear them into class. you do, one day, draped in her oversized red flannel. everyone recognizes it and the whispers are insufferable. ellie loves it. “ya look good in my clothes, baby. gonna look better out of ‘em later.”

⁺  she is most definitely a service top with a bit of a domination kink. she loves to corrupt you, have you falling apart on her strap and making you say filthy things. “c’mon, sweetheart. you gotta use your words or i can’t touch you.” she makes you beg, and once you do (breathy and soft, hands covering your reddening face) a huge grin takes over her entire face and she fucks you harder than ever.

⁺  ellie is skilled with her strap, there’s no arguing about that, but she for sure prefers to watch you come undone on her fingers. something about feeling you clench and gush around her knuckles just gets to her.

⁺  she’s a mirror sex fanatic. everything about it makes her crazy for you. holding your chin up between her pointer and her thumb, forcing you to watch the tears stream down your face as she pounds you from behind. “you’re so fucking pretty when you cry f’r me, y’know that?”

⁺  she definitely likes to delve into degradation every once in a while, particularly after she’s dealt with a rude customer. “look at you, dick drunk already huh? act like such a good girl at school and then take me like this? fuck.”

⁺  and, after putting you through the filthiest sex you could imagine, ellie wraps you right up in one of her clean hoodies and tucks you against her chest. “did so good, baby. so perfect, all f’r me.” she’s soft when it counts, rough when it turns you on.

[jungwnies]

f1 grid | dts moments

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : how they would react if you were featured on drive to survive with them

୨ৎ : word count : 1070

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : these headcanons have become one of my favorite things to do in my free-time ugh i just love how simple they are but so real >.<

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

tries to act chill but lowkey watches your interview segments like they’re race replays

gets very territorial when they show another driver being even remotely flirty

“why are they zooming in on your face like that?”

begrudgingly admits you looked hot in the paddock footage

pretends not to care but checks your social media comments at midnight

yuki tsunoda

instantly comfortable with cameras; pulls you into frame constantly

brings you snacks during confessionals like "babe, tell them about baku!"

swears once and it ends up in the final cut — becomes iconic

pokes fun at your “serious face” in interviews

wants joint merch after your segment goes viral

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

preps you beforehand like it's a media training boot camp

wears matching outfits on purpose so fans “know you’re his”

gets adorably flustered when you’re shown hyping him up on the pit wall

gives the producers a “we’re a great team” quote with heart eyes

proud boyfriend mode activated when you’re trending

kimi antonelli

pretends he hates it but secretly gets smug seeing you support him

“whatever, just don’t say anything embarrassing” (blushes when you do)

gets a little shy in couple shots but stands close the entire time

whispering jokes in italian while cameras roll = your shared love language

starts calling you “netflix star” to mess with you

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

camera loves you two — like, full soft-focus couple montages

gives your hand little squeezes when they film to calm his nerves

talks about you once and social media explodes

gets a bit pouty when your fanbase rivals his

looks at you like you hung the moon during your confessionals

lewis hamilton

total professional but insists they showcase your advocacy/work too

“if she’s going to be in it, show the full picture”

takes you to glitzy events and makes sure netflix captures the glam

wraps you in his arm during chaotic press moments

posts a soft pic the day your episode drops — “my peace 💫”

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

encourages you to be chaotic on camera with him flirts with you mid-interview just to see if they’ll air it “they’re gonna cut this, but i love you, btw” fans call you the mclaren power couple and he lives for it insists on watching the episode premiere together — popcorn, blanket, the works

oscar piastri

tries to act like it’s no big deal, but gets bashful when they show you laughing at his jokes

his dry humor + your reactions = editing gold

“this is oscar’s girlfriend—” cut to you roasting him for his socks

won’t admit it, but checks reddit reactions

keeps a screenshot of your joint confessional like a proud boyfriend

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

entire segment is him being smug while you keep him grounded

“you see her? smartest thing i ever did.”

glares at the camera crew if they cut away from you too fast

gives a mic-drop quote about love and competition

ends up soft-launching your anniversary mid-season

lance stroll

doesn’t like talking about his private life but lets you be front and center

smiles more when you're around and fans notice

will 100% take you biking in the mountains and let netflix follow

looks at you in the background of shots like you hung the stars

accidentally gives a whole monologue about how much he values your support

ʚ・williams

alex albon

teases you nonstop on camera — “she’s the boss, really”

holds your hand under the table in interviews

your fashion gets its own b-roll montage

lowkey lives for the fan edits of your scenes

netflix producers love him for giving the perfect blend of silly + sweet

carlos sainz

makes sure you're filmed doing something elegant, like wine-tasting

drops a smooth line in spanish that leaves fans feral

secretly coaches you on how to pose for the camera

talks about “balance” and then gives you all the credit

gets a little smug when fans say you outshone everyone

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

nervous at first but relaxes when you make a joke on camera

accidentally goes viral for blushing when you kiss his cheek

shows you around like it’s your paddock too

netflix makes him the golden retriever boyfriend of the season

proudly brags about how smart and grounded you are

esteban ocon

calm and composed until they film you cheering for him

gets a little camera shy if you say anything affectionate

holds doors for you like a gentleman every time the crew follows

talks about your support like it’s his secret weapon

fans swoon when they see how gentle he is with you

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

makes goofy faces at you between takes

lets you sit in the garage while he does interviews

producers catch him mouthing “love you” before a race

shares snacks with you during down time, says it’s “team bonding”

viewers call you the surprise fan-favorite couple

isack hadjar

completely chill until they start asking about you

“oh, her? she’s everything” — cue flustered look

lets you borrow his team jacket on camera

posts a behind-the-scenes photo of your filming day together

doesn’t realize he smiled the entire time you were interviewed

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

total flirt — smirks at the camera when you're near

refers to you as “my sunshine” and the internet implodes

pushes for a date night scene to make things spicy

winks at you during press and fans catch it

still gets butterflies when you walk into the paddock

jack doohan

gets super shy at first but grows more confident with you around

you’re the reason he’s smiling during every talking head

talks about you like you’re his whole world

shows you off in the most lowkey, sincere way

gets adorably pouty if they don’t include enough of you

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

veteran energy — teases you and the netflix crew

“why don’t you interview her? she’s the interesting one.”

always makes sure you have a headset during quali

gives a rare soft moment when talking about how far you’ve come together

keeps you close during chaotic scenes — protective without saying much

gabriel bortoleto

baby driver energy — gets giggly when you're around

tries to act cool but full-on blushes when you wave at him

you jokingly call him “netflix’s golden boy” and he never lives it down

will drop everything to fix your hair or mic

ends up being everyone's new favorite young couple

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[boricuasirena25]

loser, nerdy 2000s ellie x popular, bimbo, mean girl fem!reader headcanons

authors note : just wanted to say thank uu sm for the support i’ve seen on my last post abt nerdy ellie, i fr posted it without thinking and i can tell a lot of yall like it! im taking requests for her so lmk what uu want. :)

cw : some nsfw (some of the things i put in the nsfw might be like pg13 but i still put them there anyways idk 😭), lotta jokes abt boobies, ellie’s PAINFULLY nerdy like oh my goodness. takes place in the late 2000s to be oddly specific.

— SFW

• she has fantasies of you and her in the medieval times, you being the glamorous princess and her being your daring, knight in shinning armor. she literally draws it in her sketchbook, pages filled with doodles of you in corsets or big and gorgeous low cut gowns, her holding up a sword towards your “boyfriend” adrian, who in her medieval universe is “lord adrian of valebrume”, a totally made-up kingdom name that sounds dark and full of lies. she made sure it rhymed with gloom, doom, and consume—because duh, he’s the villain.

• and her favorite medieval scenarios? saving you. you’re chained in a tower. a dragon’s outside. adrian is there, trying to “rescue” you but being a fool. ellie shows up on horseback, sword drawn, cloak flapping dramatically. she slays the dragon, pushes adrian off a cliff, and drops to one knee like: “my lady. i have come for you.” you run into her arms, kiss her hard, and whisper, “you’re all I ever wanted, sir williams…”

• she can solve a rubik’s cube in under a minute. but she will not do it in front of people because she’s been bullied enough. only her stuffed triceratops knows how smart she really is.

• she’s so soft for you it’s pathetic. you could insult her in front of the entire class and she’d still smile and go “you’re so funny…” like a kicked puppy. you could say “shut up, ellie” and she’d respond with “yes ma’am” and a full-body shiver.

• 100% draws on her converse “E + (your initial)” with a heart inside of it.

• she’s, OF COURSE, obsessed with dinosaurs. she’ll say corny pick up lines like “i think if i was a dinosaur, i’d be a simp-o-saurus. because… y’know… for you. i’m simpin’ real hard.” and then she’d probably smack herself in the head after like “what the f*ck was i thinking…”.

• even though she’s HEAVILY bullied (specifically for being a lesbian who’s obsessed with you) shes blessed enough to constantly third wheel with dina and jesse.

• quite literally owns a rubber “i heart boobies” bracelet that she insists is for breast cancer awareness, but really she just thinks boobs are awesome and it’s the only time she’s allowed to say it out loud.

• she’s knows how to skate and does it quite frequently as a source of transportation (until joel gives her his rusted up, old, monster truck that ellie isn’t allowed to get till she passes spanish).

• death note is her favorite manga. she bought the first volume from a crusty used bookstore with joel, and it unlocked something feral inside her. the intensity? the drama? the moral conflict? she ate it up. once accidentally moaned when reading a panel of misa sitting on light’s lap. would never admit that.

• she owns a fake death note she made and writes adrian’s name in it “adrian luis davis – punched in the nuts by a ghost and then falls in a porta-potty in front of the whole school. dies of embarrassment.” then she drew a tiny doodle of him slipping on a banana peel. and if another boy makes you laugh? she flips open her ‘death note’, glares over her glasses, and mutters “he’s done for.”.

• she’d be a marching band lesbian idc, she’d play percussion and have the most wrinkled up band uniform ever. and she literally never wears the hat right. it’s always tilted or falling off her head. one time it flew off during a performance and she had to kick it off the field. she was mad until she looked over and saw you laughing at her in the stands.

• still plays the guitar, (she does in every universe), and she practices every single day. after school, while watching invader zim. she zones out completely when she’s playing. it’s the only time her brain shuts up—unless she’s thinking about your boobs. then it’s just chaos. one night she was home alone and played “the only exception” by paramore after smoking weed and cried because it reminded her of you.

• she didn’t tell anyone. just laid on the floor of her living room like a snow angel in her spider-man boxers whimpering.

• she owns a jennifer’s body DVD and keeps it hidden under her bed. watches it on mute when joel isn’t home. she has the kiss scene with needy memorized (she sometimes even rewatches it and imagines it as u and her).

• she owns a chunky PS3 and plays GTA IV when she’s had a bad day, or is just like super angry as her own therapy. she’ll storm into her room, throw her backpack down, and boots up her fat, fingerprint-covered PS3. the fan’s loud, the controller’s kinda sticky from soda, and the GTA IV disc is always already in. she plays like a menace—steals a car, blasts the liberty rock radio station, and causes chaos in liberty city.

• but if she’s super mad?! like adrian calling her out in front of the whole class once again?! his arms around your waist while you just sit there?! she types cheat codes into her cracked notebook and gives niko bellic rocket launchers and infinite health. she’s full on blowing up traffic jams, launching grenades into alleyways, and driving into the water just for the hell of it.

• when joel checks on her like, “you alright, kiddo?” she just grunts “yeah,” while casually tossing molotovs at cop cars with dead eyes. but she plays minecraft when she’s just chilling. she builds the ugliest dirt houses with torches everywhere and lives like a little swamp gremlin. has one big chest labeled “STUFF” and refuses to organize it. she wears full iron armor and still falls in lava. blames lag.

• OBSESSED WITH SPIDER-MAN. she literally has spider-man bedsheets and posters in her room; one above her bed, one crooked on the celling holding on by a thread (when her fan is on too long it almost blows off), and one behind her door.

• when she writes about you in her journal she puts “my MJ <3”. she even draws it. little comic panels where she’s spidey saving MJ (you) from some made-up villain that originates from adrian. ellie gives herself abs and a six-pack. no shame.

• she also owns a knock off spider-man costume. it’s from walmart and a little too tight, with faded colors and one busted web-shooter strap. she wears it with her dirty converse and grey sweatpants and thinks she’s the coolest thing ever. wears it to the store when joel isn’t paying attention. she once got it stuck in the dryer and cried.

• only wears boxers. various different pairs that r always peaking out of her sweatpants, cargos, or jeans. her favorite pair? her prized possession? a pair of faded-ass spider-man boxers. they’re red and blue with tiny spidey logos all over. she’s had them since middle school and refuses to let them go—even though they’re worn thin, have a little hole on the thigh, and the elastic’s basically screaming for mercy.

• she calls them her “lucky boxers” and lowkey wears them on days she knows she might see you. she also owns black boxers with little green dinosaurs on them and classic plaid ones that r oversized and practically fall off her hips. the waistband’s always showing. always. at this point, it’s part of the fit. she doesn’t even care if they get bunched under her jeans—just tugs at them in the hallway like “gotta air it out.”

• if she’s nervous around you, she adjusts her boxers way too much and acts like it’s not because she’s turned on.

• and for some reason, this loser is like freakishly good at soccer? beastly good. jaw-dropping good. weirdly good. but then again it’s probably because she’s a lesbian. she’s fast, aggressive, strategic—she plays forward like she isn’t afraid to slide tackle some 6’0 dude to the ground. she gets called for fouls all the time because she plays like she’s ready to fight. her coach yells at her all the time; “williams! dial it down!”, “williams, it’s not that deep—GET OFF HER!”.

• she wears the same cleats from middle school. they’re black, duct-taped, and smell like her garage. her shin guards are always crooked, and her socks never match.

• she once tried to hit you up by calling you mamacita with the worst accent you’ve ever heard. thought it was smooth. just for you to hit her with the dirtiest look ever. let’s just say she never said that out loud again.

• her all time favorite soda is dr pepper. she drinks it a little too much… her bedroom is a crime scene of empty cans. they’re stacked into little pyramids on her windowsill, crammed into her backpack, one might even be under her pillow. joel once tripped over a can pyramid and she screamed like he destroyed a sacred monument. BUT she swears it “makes her smarter.” she’ll sip it during math tests like it’s brain juice. “it’s got 23 flavors, joel. i’m running on 23 IQ boosts right now.”.

• literally owns a faded, crusty dr pepper graphic tee. it’s oversized and has holes in the collar, but she thinks it’s high fashion. it was $3 at goodwill and she treats it like a designer item. if she’s wearing it under her flannel, it’s a special day. she also 100% has a dr pepper can tab on a necklace chain. she popped it off her “lucky can” and wears it under her shirt. when you find it one day and asks about it, ellie stutters, “it’s—it’s like, uh, for good luck. and stuff…”

• dina notices ellie in class going through her sketchbook, finds one page where your name is written next to a sketch of you in a princess outfit. next to it? ellie’s self-insert knight version—sword drawn, hearts floating around them. dina looks up slowly and goes, “ellie… have you spoken to her yet?”

• “she said ‘thanks’ when I let her borrow a pencil. we’re basically married.”

— NSFW

• she gets turned on by the stupidest things about you. the way you chew gum, the way you fix your hair, the sound of your laugh, the way you tie your shoes, the way you stretch in class and your shirt rides up a little. she’ll cross her legs in AP biology like “be cool. don’t squirm. don’t look at her boobs again.” just to take another quick glance down.

• ellie found out what a strap was from the L word. she saw shane pull it out of a drawer once and nearly passed out. didn’t even know what it was called at first—just googled “lesbian harness thing from l word” on ask jeeves. then, when scrolling online she saw this neon green strap-on with a ugly, cheap, fake leather, hideous colored harness—and for some reason, she bought it. i mean the harness was only $29.99, dildo $14.99 and with a shipping of $8 dollars, it’s not like she could afford those $90 ones. now it’s growing dust under her bed.

• her cute, hideous glasses always slide off her nose when she catches you near her in a mini skirt (or she pushes them up to get a better look at my tits) and because of this, she can quite literally draw your tits from pure memory. no reference. no glances. just pure gay brain storage. she knows the exact curve, how they rest when you’re sitting vs standing, how they look in that one white top with the scoop neckline that makes her borderline pass out.

• but even though she knows them like the back of her hand, she still sneaks glances when she thinks you’re not looking. sometimes you’re bent over the locker room bathroom mirror, adjusting your necklace or putting on lip gloss, and she’s across the room—pretending to tie her converse back on but she’s staring dead at your tits in the mirror reflection like she’s about to start drooling.

• and she’s memorized every single bra you own. color, fabric, lace pattern, where it cuts on your back, how the straps sit on your shoulders, whether the padding lifts your tits or not. she knows which ones you wear when you want to feel cute and which ones are for laundry day.

• when she’s high? forget about it. she starts rambling about the “artistic gravity” of your tits, how the curve reminds her of renaissance sculptures, and how she wants to sculpt them from memory using clay she found behind the garage. dina and jesse once walked in on this monologue and left in silence.

• she doesn’t even smoke that often—maybe once every couple weeks if someone else has it. but every time she does? she turns into a flushed, squirmy, glassy-eyed mess who gets insanely horny within ten minutes. like clockwork. doesn’t matter if it’s a chill high or a head high—ellie’s already halfway down bad the moment it hits her bloodstream.

• one time she smoked weed in dina’s garage with her and jesse. the three of them snuck out to her garage—lights off, old couch, lava lamp glowing. they pass it around like total amateurs, coughing and giggling and pretending to be cool. ten minutes in, ellie is absolutely done for.

• her knees are pulled up to her chest, hoodie sleeves over her hands, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed bright pink. she’s quiet, too quiet, until dina looks over and goes: “ellie… you good?” and ellie just mumbles, “mhm… i’m chillin’…” while clearly not chillin’.

• she’s thinking about you in a miniskirt. she’s thinking about your glossed-up lips. she’s thinking about your thighs on either side of her head. jesse’s rambling about alien conspiracies meanwhile ellie’s gripping the edge of the blanket, vibrating with how badly she needs to excuse herself. she finally blurts out “i’m gonna go… uh… bathroom. real quick.”

• she bolts toward the house, slamming the bathroom door shut. she barely locks it before her hand’s down her boxers—moaning softly into her arm, her mind spiraling with nothing but you. how pretty you are, how good you smell, how soft your thighs would feel wrapped around her flushed face.

• and her sketchbook is a problem. deep in her sketchbook, the parts she refuses to let anyone else see, are filthy. you sitting on her face, moaning. you spread open with your fingers, juice dripping down your thighs, her name scratched onto your skin. you with hickeys on your chest, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, and the exact position your mouth makes when you’re cumming.

• she’s drawn close-ups of your tits in her sketchbook more times than she can count. like full-studies. the shading, the softness, how the nipples perk when you’re cold. she knows which way they tilt when you’re laying on your side. she draws them squished under her hands. she draws them from memory and gets mad when it’s not perfect.

• and some of her sketches are drawn from scenarios she wishes happened. you sitting in her lap in just your mini skirt with your hand around her neck, you pulling her by the collar into bed with a kiss, you in the school bathroom kissing her against a stall door.

• in which ellie draws herself completely cornered against the stall door. her cheeks are flushed bright red, glasses fogged up, and her lips are shiny from your lip gloss—because you kissed it off her. in the corner of the page, ellie scribbled: “she wore juicy perfume. i could smell it all over me after.”

• remember ellie’s medieval fantasies? well let’s just say they’re not all innocent… a specific one is where she drew you pressed to the castle wall, dress lifted, bent over. ellie’s behind you, armor still on, her gauntlet clamped around your mouth while she takes you with a thick medieval strap—drawn with detailed curve and shimmer of neon green (yes, she draws the neon green strap even in fantasy).

• you’re moaning through her hand, crown slipping, legs shaking while your heels dig into the stone. she adds notes like: “told her to be quiet. she couldn’t.”, “her moans echoed through the halls.”