#though this is more of a headcanon for me

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

I absolutely LOVED this one! Jealousy and flirting headcanons are always so fun, not to mention INCREDIBLY HOT 😂😮‍💨 Something about thinking of each of these men getting all possessive and angry over someone flirting with the reader is just 🥵 I also really loved that you did some jealousy on the reader's side as well!

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

Oh my goodness this line in the Dean section, just made me giggle and kick my feet.

I've never seen Big Sky, but to me it seemed fitting that Beau's was a mom from the PTA who doesn't know the meaning of the word BOUNDARIES 😂. But oh my word not the brushing away the cookie bits with her hand. NO! I wouldn't let that slide 😤

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it. It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you. Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

This part in the Soldier Boy/ Ben section made me smile, because I do believe that Ben would go way too hard on someone who looked at the reader or touched them, but it really is because he genuinely cares. Also it made me cackle when you wrote "Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life" because OH yeah. These men trying to shoot their shot while the reader is trying her upmost not to have them get shot by her super hot boyfriend.

And the mention of the "unfamiliar twinge of guilt" really hits home with Ben, because yes he does flirt a little, but he's learning what it means to be in an exclusive relationship with someone. That being said, I would still lose my mind over the flirty winks, the physical contact, and pet names with other women 😅.

Russell's version was also wonderful, because he is more laid back, but I could definitely see him breaking someone's nose for saying the wrong thing to his girl.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

Oh goodness I'm melting. This was so CUTE! 🥰

All of these were so accurate and well written my friend! I can't wait to read your new headcanon about Body Insecurity as well 😊

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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[fangdokja]

To him, you're perfect. To you, he's just a mission.

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world of blood and power, you became his perfect wife—calm, obedient, and indispensable. But beneath your icy façade, a deadly game of lies and survival brews, and he’ll never know that you’re the one who could destroy him.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanon. The Bride of Blood - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,459

♡ TW. dom + top + older + sadistic yandere, general non-con + manipulation, sexual themes, BDSM

♡ His Story. 🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who first noticed you during a violent upheaval in the criminal underworld, where blood was spilled more than ink on treaties.

You were the perfect wife—elegant, calm, and obedient.

His men whispered about your grace, but he only saw the subtle precision in your movements, a dancer in a minefield.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who felt a perverse sense of peace watching you tend to his wounds after a firefight.

"You’re reckless," you murmured, stitching his torn flesh with steady hands. The sharp tang of alcohol filled the air, mingling with the metallic stink of blood.

His laughter was low and cruel. “And yet you keep mending me, zhena moya.” You didn’t flinch under his gaze, but your fingers trembled ever so slightly, betraying a crack in your otherwise impenetrable façade.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who surrounded himself with walls of loyalty and fear, yet you slipped through them like a shadow.

Your quiet efficiency made you indispensable; your loyalty, unquestionable. You never balked at the grotesque reminders of his power—the severed hands of a traitor, the guttural pleas of dying men.

"Why do you stay?" he asked once, watching you clean blood from the floor with detached precision.

"Because I vowed to," you replied, voice devoid of warmth. He smirked, taking it as devotion, never suspecting the mission beneath your skin.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who made you his wife in a spectacle of opulence and terror.

The wedding was a gilded cage, a feast of gold and crimson.

He kissed you beneath a chandelier made of diamonds and glass, while outside, his enemies burned in their cars, charred bodies marking the territory of his love. You smiled as cameras flashed, but your stomach churned at the sound of distant screams.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who trusted you enough to let you into his inner sanctum. Late nights spent poring over ledgers and strategic maps became a routine.

"Tell me, what do you see?" he’d ask, his voice honeyed with suspicion.

You pointed out weaknesses, vulnerabilities, your mind calculating probabilities faster than his most seasoned lieutenants.

He called you brilliant; you called it survival.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who can’t keep his hands off you, as if touching you is the only way he can prove to himself that you’re real.

His fingers are always tracing the curve of your spine, ghosting along the edge of your jaw, a silent claim. His touch lingers, heavy with possession, even when his mood is lethal and his hands are stained with blood.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who wakes you in the middle of the night, his body already pressed against yours, hard and unyielding.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. The sheets are kicked aside as he drags you beneath him, his weight suffocating and intimate.

“You’re my peace,” he says, though his touch is anything but gentle. He takes you slowly at first, savoring every cry, every tremble, before his control snaps and he devours you whole.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who fucks you in places you shouldn't be touched—

Against the marble counter in the kitchen, your hands slipping on the smooth surface as he drives into you; in the backseat of his bulletproof car while his driver pretends not to notice the muffled moans and the rhythmic creak of leather; even in his private jet, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he degrades you in Russian, the words dark and guttural.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who loves watching you come undone beneath him, your carefully crafted mask shattering in his hands.

He knows you try to hide your reactions, to remain composed, but it only spurs him on. “Don’t hold back, lyubov moya,” he says, his voice velvet-soft and cruel.

“Let me hear how much you need me.” And when you finally break, crying out his name, his smirk is equal parts victorious and feral.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who becomes almost animalistic when his jealousy flares. One stray glance from another man and he’s dragging you to his private quarters, tearing at your clothes.

“I’ll remind you who you belong to,” he growls, his hands rough and demanding. He doesn’t stop until you’re trembling, marked, and utterly consumed by him, your body a canvas for his obsession.

“Mine,” he’d growl, over and over, as if the repetition could make it true.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who has a near-obsessive fixation on filling you, stretching you, owning you in the most primal way.

“How are you not pregnant yet?” he muses darkly, his fingers tracing circles on your inner thigh. He pulls you onto his lap, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Maybe I need to try harder,” he whispers, thrusting into you without warning, his eyes burning into yours as he takes you again and again, his movements relentless, determined.

“You’ll give me an heir one day,” he murmured, his voice thick with possessive desire. “A little prince or princess with your eyes and my ruthlessness.”

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who couldn’t keep his hands off you, even during the most mundane moments.

Cooking breakfast? He’d slide behind you, his hands wandering beneath your robe. Reading a book? He’d tug it from your grasp, his lips finding your neck as his body pressed against yours.

"You’re a distraction," you muttered one night as he pinned you to the bed, his lips trailing down your stomach.

"And you’re my obsession," he replied, his voice dripping with lethal promise.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who saw sex as another way to own you, to remind you of your place in his world. But even he couldn’t deny the way your body haunted him, the way he craved your touch like a drug.

“You make me weak,” he confessed one night, his voice low and raw as he traced the curve of your spine. “And I hate you for it.”

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who began to suspect that you were too perfect.

The way you navigated his world of violence with clinical detachment. The way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before he did. It wasn’t love, he realized; it was precision. A scalpel disguised as a wife.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who saw glimpses of something darker beneath your calm exterior.

The first time you shot a man—clean between the eyes to save his life—he swore he saw something flicker in your gaze. Was it fear? Regret? Or was it just the ghost of the person you’d been before? He couldn’t tell, but the thought consumed him.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who pressed you for your past one drunken night, his voice slurred with vodka and possessiveness.

"Who were you before me, malyshka? What did you dream of?"

You lied through your teeth, weaving a story of lost parents and humble beginnings. He crushed your hand in his, murmuring, "You're mine now. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you." You forced a smile, choking on the irony.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who unwittingly began to unravel his own empire in his obsession with you. His paranoia sharpened with every stray glance from his men, every unfamiliar scent on your clothes.

"Do you love me?" he asked one night, his breath hot against your neck.

You hesitated—only for a second—but it was enough.

His grip tightened, bruising your arm. "Say it," he demanded, voice a low growl. "Of course," you whispered, the words like glass shards in your throat.

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss who built a kingdom of fear and blood but found himself undone by the ghost of a woman who had never truly been his.

A woman who kissed him with cold lips and watched him sleep with calculating eyes.

A woman who loved the mission more than she could ever love him.

────────────

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[an-idyllic-novelist]

Sung Jinwoo fluffy boyfriend headcanons

warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, manhwa and anime spoilers, OOC, tooth-rotting content.

Special thanks to @pa1nrema1ns for collaborating with me on this piece. Enjoy~! :3

divider by @cafekitsune

Sung Jinwoo would definitely not expect him, of all people, to be appreciated and loved exactly for who he is and not because he is an E-Rank Hunter. Even after he had reawakened, he does not see that he was no longer a scrawny kid trying to keep his little sister in school and make sure his mother still gets the best medical treatment possible at the hospital, but an incredibly attractive individual.

After officially becoming Korea’s tenth S-Rank Hunter, he wouldn’t be inclined to enter a romantic relationship because he would believe the person pursuing him was only interested in his wealth and fame. He would rather spend the time he isn’t leveling up with his family. End of discussion.

Now, if someone had shown genuine affection for him and his loved ones before the Double Dungeon incident, that’s another story entirely. In this scenario, you have done just that; being supportive, helping take care of things around the apartment while he was gone, and wishing him to have a good day with a tight hug before seeing him off with an unspoken promise to come back safely. Of course, you always packed his backpack with first aid supplies and a lunch the night before. He couldn’t eat anything from a dungeon, like the plants or carcasses of monsters. That would send him straight to the hospital again and cause Jinah to worry about him.

Giving him a hug speaks louder than words. To him, it tells Jinwoo that you care about him. You didn’t view him as someone lesser for his level, lack of power as an E-Rank, or why he had chosen such a dangerous career. You knew why he was doing it and the thought made him warm inside.

He’s had no one outside of his small family to speak positively about him, lift his spirits, or remind him he needs to take care of himself. Feeling your arms around him gives him the motivation to make it through those long, brutal dungeon raids. He would come back to you no matter what.

When he becomes the Player of the System, that motivation becomes his resolve to get stronger. If not to survive another day as a Hunter, then returning to you and Jinah. He regrets keeping the existence of the System a secret from you until after he completes the Job Change Request and the Red Gate incident, though, but can you blame him? He really wasn’t sure how you would react to seeing the hundreds of soldiers currently under his command as the Shadow Monarch.

He scolded Igris when his second-in-command unintentionally scared the living daylights out of you by morphing from beneath your feet while you were making breakfast for him in the kitchen. Jinwoo made it clear to the others after that to not sneak up behind you or let anything happen to you when he wasn’t around. He would assign two or three soldiers as bodyguards like how he did with Jinah and his mother.

He will keep a photo of you on his person.

If anyone thinks about publishing a trashy headline being in a relationship with someone else, he will show up in their office and threaten to sue them to the ground unless they write an article he will dictate for him, word for word. Jinwoo has a lower tolerance for the bullshit that’s posted on social media, and it will get worse when it involves you or his family.

When he’s ensured an incredibly long day of dungeon raiding or being persuaded by the Association (more like forced) to give an interview about himself to appease the public and boost his reputation, Jinwoo would unwind in your arms as soon as he gets in the door.

His favorite thing is to lie down on your lap and feel your fingers gently massaging his scalp or drag your hand through his hair. 9 times out of 10 he’ll fall asleep like this. When this happens, it might be a good idea to order takeout, and have it delivered because Jinwoo will not wake up. He’s a tired baby, so let him rest but not too long or else he won’t enough sleep and he’ll act like a grumpy cat all the following day.

He might appear to be a man who is always calm and composed, planned every scenario in his head and knows how to get the job done, at least when he’s out in the world. But in his home? He will allow himself to be vulnerable and just relax.

He found it adorable when you whined at his ‘glow-up’ and how you missed his ‘adorable, squishy self’, whatever that meant. He doesn’t think he’s changed that much, at least when he’s with you. He still feels appreciated and loved as much as when he was an E-Rank, if not more confident and with a bigger wallet so he can spoil you properly.

No matter what happens, even if time itself gets rewound and your memories of him vanish in the blink of an eye, he will find you again. He will always love you, he will give you the life and happiness you deserve, this he vows.

Taglist: @lovelyevil @swallowtail-lotus @aria-tempest @lanxianschoenheit @ixchelhernandez4 @toast-on-dandelioms @constellation3fanfic @sleep-all-day-everyday @mydearestbeloved @thetruepair @charming-mage @heirloomgem @mochinon-yah @cloise @ghostdoodlen @the-dumber-scaramouche @rogueofbullshit @hoodiepandaninja16 @crxscnt

[zaahvi]

slowly starting to work on my own evanuris designs, first up are dirthamen and falon'din! (i did the busts a month ago now and hadn't decided on the outfits yet so that's why the colours don't match lmao)

some more design notes under the cut :)

in my headcanon, dirthamen was their original spirit (of guidance) and split while making his body because his soul was conflicted about whether he wanted to, or remain as a spirit. when he split, "dirthamen" was content with his new form, while the other half - falon'din - was not, and was twisted into despair. specifically, i imagine it as the sort of despair where you try to cling onto anything to try to make yourself happy, but to no avail.

i thought it'd be neat for them to have a mark symbolising their spirit shattering, like a birthmark. then making it look like their (eventual) vallaslin design made a lot of sense.

i had an idea for dirthamen to have one eye a long time ago, because he has a LOT of similarities to our odinn - god of knowledge and wisdom, often depicted as a hooded figure, and has two ravens (interestingly, while fear and deceit sound like demon names, huginn ("thought") and muninn (anything from: memory, will, remembrance, intention) sound like spirit names). and while elgar'nan holds odinn's title of all-father, he's more like tyr imo.

dirthy's outfit was loosely based off the robed evanuris in the black codex concept art where they're doing the ritual at the blight box lol. i saw that person and was like yeah that's my special god with his dark robes and his little dagger. ofc i had to give him more style though, and dropped in some colour (as falon'din has canonically claimed the colour black) i decided on green because of his eye colour, and turquoise because sometimes when light hits ravens' feathers they kinda look blue. his mosaic has him covering his mouth, so i covered his mouth here too. also, i know his symbol has a little mohawk thing going on in the ingame statues, i couldn't draw it at that angle guys i'm sorry, shapes are hard.

since falon'din mirrors dirthamen in appearance, he got the single eye too. his colours are also more muted because of the whole despair thing. i also found it really interesting that his symbol is the sun, i 100% thought that was sylaise, but it makes sense as sometimes the setting sun is seen as a symbol of death. also the crook he has on his mosaic was really interesting to me and i included it after i read an 18 page paper on them while researching. it's a shepherd's tool - but can also be seen as a symbol of power/status, and there's quite a few of our irl gods depicted holding one. it's honestly really fascinating. that little magic spark doesn't mean anything though it's just for flair :)

i put fally in an ancient elven armour with minimal design changes as he doesn't strike me as sentimental and is rather more like someone who wants to show off and be the cuntiest person in the room at all times. although black is his colour, again i muted it a little, same with the gold. i may edit his design a little in the future to include his owls but for now i'm just kinda trying to figure out how they'd fit in

[venuslarkspur]

Personal headcanon of mine that would like to share. Batsis!Reader was personally blessed by Aphrodite when she was little and it's why she can add to her growing harem without much struggle

Cassandra during a family meeting: Do you guys ever wonder how Batsis!Reader can get anyone, no matter the age difference, hero and villain, to hook up/date her?

Jason watching Batsis get flirted on by Roy for like the millionth time: Only god knows Cass. Only God knows.

Meanwhile 5-6 year old Batsis on the Manor's rooftop stargazing with Aphrodite

Aphrodite: You know what? I like you little human. You entertain me, I haven't felt this relaxed and at peace in centuries! And for that, I shall give you my blessing.

Cue Batsis!Reader getting her charisma maxed out and continue skyrocketing even after being maxed out. Also getting a sex drive that lets her sexually keep up with any partner she wanted, basically making her the best hoe out there without a doubt

5-6 year old Batsis: Ok :v

Omg yes, I fw this.

Warning: very minor nsfw but nothing that bad is mentioned, cuss words, mentions of addiction, not proofread.

Like Batsis is semi aware of her talents and charms and also has SOME control over them, but sometimes she can meet some dickheads who try and gain her attention after she’s madeit clear she doesn’t want them.

How some of the JL are charmed

- I feel like Diana is partly aware of this connection between Batsis and Aphrodite and that’s how Diana for the most part hasn’t surrendered to her charm. Diana just loves her for her for the most part.

- John Stewart is unique, he fell in love with Batsis for much more than just her beauty but rather how she conducts herself as a person, these two are my faves.

- Barry Allen pre his marriage with Iris did find Batsis attractive and very charming, though I imagine at this time she’s dating someone else. So nothing becomes of this despite Batsis knowing she could have him if she wanted.

- Zatanna and Batsis have always been flirty with each other, they charm each other quite easily, they are either besties or girlfriends there’s no in between, the two of them and John sometimes throuple as well so take that as you will.

- Hal Jordan was easy work, he was putty the day he met Batsis. This was in the early days when Batsis definitely wanted to piss off Bruce, so why not solidity it by not only sleeping with and dating his colleague but also the colleague he can’t stand the most.

- Yeah the vast majority are just immediately drawn to her beauty and grace. She’s matching all of their freak.

——————

- But if we are talking about Villains, Deathstroke is one of her past; he was an easy bag she didn’t even have to pull out any tricks. But when she gets a bit older and matures more she stops their dynamic immediately.

- For some crack however Batsis has contemplated how funny it would be if she married Ra’s Al Ghul, like Damian having to address her as grandmother? Bruce literally having a seizure if he finds out. This thought is extinguished IMMEDIATELY however. Although she does like a challenge and wonders if her talents on him would work.

——————

This girl struggles to find an end game that truly loves her, she’s had a few who have came and gone but never imagined someone she could call her romantic soulmate (bc we know Dick is her platonic soulmate!!), but if it had to be anyone it would be Roy. They’ve been through so much struggle together that eventually they would work out, Roy gets insecure and wonders if she could do better considering the men and women of her past he’s been podiumed with.

- Batsis had made the mistake of leaving him when they were younger over the pressure getting to her, like Lian coming along, his addiction, Ollie just being a shit mentor for the most part, but Batsis really calms down with her gift if she gets serious (even if she can’t control it 70% of the time), she finally has found something good and will stick to it. Yeah he was a nasty dog when they were teenagers but when they are older he just sees the only one (besides Dinah, Dick and Jason) who stuck by him.

My lord this got sort of angsty but yeah. She’s a girl blessed.

[casscainmainly]

as much as it's fun to play around w the kids' different relationships to bruce in fanfic, I pretty much agree with your assessment as far as canon goes. im sure at some point there'll be variations because there's so much that goes under the umbrella of canon but yeah, so far your graph makes sense. (also despite the fact that I love 'batfam' fics, fandom has a habit of taking "found family" literally and applying familial labels to every relationship, even though like you said, duke and steph's relationships to bruce are more friendship and mentor/mentee-esque)

Yeah I don't mind people messing around with the dynamics, especially in AUs, but I just have my own preferred takes. Bruce being Duke's dad is just a pet peeve because I think a lot of people believe that's their canon dynamic, when that erases Duke's real dad and also a lot of his personality. But I've read great Duke fics with Bruce as a father figure too, so it's all about the execution.

HEAVY agree on the 'applying familial labels' to everything. I think the main problem (and this is in canon too) is trying to tie everyone to Bruce. That's why we have the belief that Bruce is Steph, Babs, and Duke's dad, because that's the easiest way to be 'in' the Batfam. But this is so much less interesting than having a character's relationship to the Batfam be inherently messy and non-nuclear-familyfied.

Like, my ideal Duke dynamic is him being the brother of Cass and Damian, but not being Bruce's son or Tim's brother. Just like Cass is Babs' daughter and Dick's sister, but Dick and Babs are together, and Babs is also somewhat Tim's older sister, but she's not Jason's or Damian's sister; Damian sees Steph as a sister figure, Dick is kind of a father/brother/everything figure, but Bruce is also his dad; etc etc. I don't think these are incompatible, and when people try to narrow down the Batfam into 'mom' 'dad' 'children', it loses a lot of what makes the Batfam interesting. (Even I'm simplifying the relationships a lot here).

Honestly it's not a problem if people prefer different familial dynamics to the ones I like. It's only the insistence that they have to be a certain type of family that rubs me the wrong way, because then we get things like 'TimSteph and DickBabs are incest', which is just a complete misreading of what the Batfam is.

[justanothermemestrider]

"That's My Girl" - Jago Sevetarion x F! Reader

Ask thee and ye shall receive. Here's a fic based on the sparring headcanon from my Sevetar Assorted Headcanons. The sypnosis: Sev takes you down to the training mat to help you train some sword craft, and things get... spicy

Hope yall ready for some heresy.

CW: NSFW, MDNI

Apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

"I really don't see why this is necessary."

"Really?" Jago asks. "Sweetheart, have you seen what the people on this ship are like?"

"Well yeah, sure," you say. "But I've got you. And if you're not around, Talos and Cyrion always look out for me."

Jago clicks his tongue, twirling the wooden swords he's currently holding in both hands as he considers your words. "That is true," he admits. "But even then, there is always the chance- no matter how small- that you may be caught out alone on this ship." He offers you one of the swords with a smile. "As such, you need to prepared."

You give him a long, unamused look, eyes shifting between his proferred wooden sword and wry, lopsided smile. The skin of his face is a mess of scars and callouses, but underneath all of that is a strong, almost handsome visage with broad cheek bones and a square jaw. His hair is slicked back save for a handful of thin bangs that tumble over his forehead to frame his eyes and nose. Jago's smile broadens into a grin. "Come on, little bird," he says. "If not for you, then for me?"

You let out a sigh. Without a word, you take the sword from his hand.

"Atta girl," Jago chuckles. He steps away from you, then surprises you by sheathing his sword. His grin suddenly turns feral. Before you can ask, he unclasps the front of his tunic and lets it drop to the floor. His torso, like his face, is ravished by scars, though these are far larger and more vicious looking. Bolter holes, chain blade slashes, stab wounds and burn marks; Jago wears the marks of all of these and even more. Black neural ports run down his shoulders and chest, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. But, just like his face, his scars and cybernetics do little to detract from the beauty of the body beneath them. You can't help but take a moment to drink in the sight of him; the twistedly gorgeous demi-god you call lover and protector. At your staring, Jago chuckles. "You may remain robed if you wish," he says. "But among Astartes, it is tradition to spar as... unencumbered as possible."

"Oh really?" you ask, clearly unconvinced.

Jago laughs again. "Eyes up, little bird," he orders. "Raise your blade. We begin now."

Unable to keep the grin off your face, you does as he commands.

"You remember what I've taught you?" he asks.

You give your sword a cursory twirl. "Of course I do." As if to emphasise the point, you hold it out in front of you in a defensive stance.

Jago gives you a satisfied smirk. "Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" With that, the Night Lord lunges.

You slip to the side, parrying with your sword. The wooden blades crack against each other like bone, and the force of the impact sends painful vibrations rocketing up your arms. Grunting, you take several, darting steps back, but Jago refuses to give you any such breathing room. Several more time, your training blades clash. You know Jago is holding back; he has to, for if he didn't, his first strike would've likely snapped your arms in half. But even with his abilities actively reduced from demi-god levels, he's still faster and stronger than any baseline human could dream of being. Already, your breathing hard. Sweat pouring down your brow as your heart pounds relentlessly. Jago, on the other hand, has barely broken a sweat.

"Don't be shy, little bird," he says the next time the pair of you disengage. "You can't defend forever."

Between heavy breathes, you scowl at him. "Easy for you to say, Son of The Night Haunter, you."

Jago flashes that wry, crooked smile of his from the other side of the training mat. "No warrior is perfect," he says. "Even Astartes have certain aspects that can be exploited."

"Such as?"

"Just look at me, sweetheart. Two metres tall and half a tonne in weight, all of that being bloated muscle and reinforced bone." Jago holds his arms out wide. "What does that make me?"

"I don't know," you huff. "Strong?"

"Nope," says Jago

"Unbeatable?"

"Hah! I wish."

"Sexy?"

Jago laughs. "You flatter me, little bird. But no. Not the answer I am looking for."

"What then?"

The night lord sighs in mock exasperation. "It make me big," he says. "It makes me heavy. And no matter how fast or strong I am, it makes me very much at the mercy of physics and biomechanics. But you-" he points at you with his sword. "-my love, you are not so much. You are lighter. Your body, more flexible and maneuverable. Therefore, such natural laws are far more lenient on you than I. You understand?"

After taking a moment to think, you believe that you do. You tell Jago as much.

"I knew you would." Lowering his sword, Jago bares his teeth in a grin. "Now. Prove it to me."

Raising your sword, you approach him at a slink. Stepping on the balls of your feet, wooden blade out and pointed at his chest. Jago flurries his own weapon. Ripples of tension feather through the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He holds his sword low, clearly trusting himself to be fast enough to raise it should you choose to attack. But it is that very reflex that you intend to exploit.

With the technique of a fencer, you thrust at Jago's throat. Just as you'd guessed, he brings his sword up and around to block. But the moment you see his arm move, your strike turns into a feint. Ducking underneath his arm, you lock your blade around his shoulder and launch a savage kick into his knee. In the same moment, you wrench hard with your arms, turning your wooden sword into a lever over which you toss Jago to the ground. Of course, such a throw would never work in a true one-on-one fight with an Astartes. But against another baseline? Absolutely, it would. And, since he is currently moonlighting as such, Jago lets you take him down. The mat shakes as his body hits the ground. Before he can move to get up, you leap on top of him. Straddling his waist and bracing the edge of your mock sword against his throat. Your arms tremble from exertion, lungs burning as you breath hard and fast through your mouth. But as exhausted as you are there's a smile on your face. When Jago locks eyes with you, it only grows broader.

"That's my girl," he says, his adam's apple bobbing against your blade as he speaks.

In spite of yourself, his praise makes you giggle. "Does that mean I win?" you ask.

"Almost," Jago says. "But you've forgotten one very important thing."

You raise an eyebrow. "That being?"

Between your legs, you feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out. You also feel him bending his knees and planting his feet on the floor. "When your opponent is so much larger than you..." Jago trails off. Then, quick as a snake, he grabs your sword with one hand and seizes your arm in the other. Bridging his hips, he throws you off him, sending you sprawling onto the mat. You yelp in surprise as Jago reverses your mount and straddles your hips. His weight is immense; your pelvis feels like it's being crushed beneath an anvil, while your legs and hips are completely and utterly pinned. Jago leans over you, grabbing your sword hand by the wrist while bracing his own sword hand on the floor right beside your ear. Lips peeling back into a predatory smile, he finishes his earlier warning. "...You must never take them to the ground."

Any outward observer would expect you be terrified, but in truth, you only feel flustered. Even after all this time, being this close to him- face millimetres from yours, naked, muscular body pressing against your own- still has your stomach winding itself into knots. And from the bulging hardness you can feel pressing against your lower belly, Jago is feeling the same way.

"This had nothing to do with training me, did it?" you whisper.

"Of course it did," Jago replies. "Your safety is the single most important thing to me. You know that."

"Fine. But it wasn't the only reason you brought me here, was it?"

For the briefiest of moments, Jago's smile turns sheepish. "Alright. You may have me there." Leaning closer still, he touches his forehead to yours. "You know how much I love a woman who can kick my ass."

You reply by kissing him. Tilting your head back so as to give you access to his lips, then locking them within yours with rough and enboldened hunger. Jago immediately returns it in kind. He drops his sword and releases your wrist, scooping one hand up underneath your waist while gripping you jaw with the other. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies fall into place around each other. Your legs wrapping tight around Jago's waist as he pulls you closer still. The heat between your legs presses the hardness between his, and even through the fabric of your clothes, the friction is enough to make you whine. The sound elicits a growl from Jago. You feel the hand at your jaw release, then slide down your front until it reaches the waistband of your trousers. He drags them off you, followed by your underwear. You gasp when the cold air kisses your exposed sex. But quickly, the sound devolves into a moan as Jago presses his fingers into your clit. Electricity bolts through your body. The heat in your core swells into an aching throb. You feel yourself growing wetter, hotter, more desperate and breathless. You claw your fingernails into Jago's back and let out another pleading moan.

"Jago..."

"I know, sweetheart," he rumbles. "But I've gotta slick you up first; don't want to hurt you."

You reply by bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades and digging your fingers into the neural ports embedded in the muscles there.

An involuntary shudder rips through Jago's entire body. His limbs buckle, sending him sprawling flat against your front. The sound that falls from his lips can only be described as a whimper.

"Oh, I see," he growls once he recovers. "And here I was thinking you liked me best when I was nice."

"Most of the time," you answer. "But not today."

Jago bares his teeth in a smile that's both affectionate and utterly lusting. "As you wish, little bird. But don't say I didn't warn you."

You open your mouth to reply, but before the words can reach your voice, Jago locks his hand around your throat. He unclasps his breeches, finally freeing his hard, aching cock. He lines his hips with up with yours, and with a single, savage thrust, drives himself all the way inside of you.

A cry bursts from your lips. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate his length, but even then, the fit is impossibly tight. Jago moans into your ear. The hand around your throat tightens. Without skipping a beat, he starts moving. Thrusting his hips hard, filling you up, pinning your clit against his public bone and rubbing it to the point of pain. Sparks and black spots burst within your vision. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every one of your exhales is a whimper or a moan. Ecstasy doesn't come close to describing this feeling. This raw and primal pleasure that's got your every nerve in a chokehold. Meanwhile, Jago growls and snarls like a beast in rut. His breathing is loud and laboured, his every muscle bulging against his sweat-slick skin. The hand he hasn't got around your neck is pressed hard into your lower belly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper still.

The coil in your belly reaches critical mass. You can feel your orgasm coming, just on the horizon, but not quite there yet. There's no way in hell you could string together a sentence, so instead, you say his name. Once again finding Jago's shoulderblades with your fingers and clawing them into his neural ports.

"Jago... Jago..."

Jago's body shudders again, and a long, almost pained whine interrupts his snarling growls. On his next thrust, he rears up onto his knees, scooping up your leg with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder. The sparks in your eyes become stars. The coil in your belly becomes agonisingly tight. Your spine arches until it's not longer touching the ground and you let out another, desperate cry.

It's then that Jago decides to say something. The words are whispered in your ear, barely comprehensible amidst his growls and moans. But they're there. And they are what finally send you over the edge.

"That's my girl."

Orgasm grips you like a lightning strike. You throw your head back as a scream of ecstasy erupts from your throat. Every muscle in your body clenches and your walls squeeze Jago so tight it makes his voice crack. His rhythm suddenly falters. He releases your throat to claw his hand into the floor. With a throat-tearing roar, Jago finally hits his release, burying his face into your shoulder and pumping you full of his hot, thick seed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as you both ride out your orgasms.

When yours finally fades, you collapse against the floor. You still have the energy to gasp at the feel of Jago pulling out, but aside from that, you're completely and utterly spent. Means when Jago rolls you onto your side and drags you into his body, you simply let him. Both of his hearts are beating hard; you can feel their twin pulses pounding against your ear. He doesn't simply hold you, either, but rather he's actively pulling you close. Pressing you hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight as if he were trying to shelter you or keep you from being dragged away. His grip is crushing. His skin and hair both slick with sweat. Gently, you reach a hand up to his face and brush your fingers against his cheek. "Careful," you says softly. "Squeeze me any tighter and you might just break something."

You hear his breath hitch. Slowly, the pressure around your waist and shoulders diminishes. "Sorry," Jago mutters. The extra gravel in his voice confirms what you'd suspected from his pulse, that he's still coming down from his high.

Tilting your head up a little, you press your lips to his collarbone, then nuzzle your face into his chest. "It's okay. I forgive you. This time, at least."

Jago smirks, but says nothing. After a handful of quiet moments, you hear his heart rates finally begin to settle. His breathing deepens, then levels out and the residual tension in his body releases.

You choose that moment to caress his scarred cheek again. "I love you," you whisper.

His chest vibrates against your ear as he chuckles softly. "By the Warp. I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Do you doubt me?" you ask playfully.

"What? No! Of course not."

"You do not feel the same, then?"

That actually makes him growl. "Of course I do." The grip around your waist and shoulders tightens. "You know that."

You reassure him with another kiss to his collar bone. "So, why, then?"

"Why?" Another rumbling laugh. "Sweetheart. Look at me. Recall who I am and what I've done."

Retracting your hand, you start tracing one of the dozens of scars running down his chest with your finger. "I see Jago Sevetarion," you say. "The man who cares for me and protects me." You let your head fall against him, eyes slipping shut. "I see the man I love."

Your earnestness seems to take him by surprise, for he does not reply nor react right away. He doesn't seem to know how to. All he can think to do is pull you closer still and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

Sorry if I've missed you. If I have or you wanna be added, please let me know :)

Taglist: @yanagikou @nereidof40k @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @moodymisty @wolf-feathers12 @justfreakynothingelse @egrets-not-regrets

[gauntletgirlie]

Adding my two pence in to the Sauron shipping and sexuality discourse since I am a fan of Tolkien’s written works and The Rings of Power show whereas quite a few people debating this seem to fall into one camp or the other (not all, I will clarify, just from what I’ve personally seen).

Before I start, I’m not out here trying to cause strife, I’m trying to advocate for people to be nicer to one another about their conflicting views.

I love The Silmarillion. When I first read it, and in subsequent readings, I did not interpret either Melkor or Sauron sexually at all. I just didn’t. Not that I thought they were asexual or aromantic, I just didn’t think of them in terms of sexuality. It’s not what I was focussed on when I was reading and it’s not the vibe that I personally got, even when looking deeper at subtext and in between the lines.

I heckin love Angbang though. The art, the headcanons, the crack, the writing, the goofy stuff, the sexy stuff, and everything in between. I arrived on tumblr, stumbled upon Angbang and that was me seduced! I have space for my original interpretation of Melkor and Mairon and then the Angbang interpretation. I enjoy both.

I had fun watching The Rings of Power. Admittedly, Season 1 was a bit “eh” for me, but Season 2 slapped in my opinion. I think Charlie Vickers is doing a fantastic job of portraying Sauron. I was, and am, excited to see one of my favourite characters given more exploration on screen.

Charlie Vickers’ depiction, along with the writers’ and directors’, is just one interpretation. One based on limited and often vague literature (the appendices of The Lord of the Rings). The same way that Peter Jackson’s all-seeing, fiery eye atop Barad-hûr was an interpretation.

Peter Jackson’s LOTR films, TROP, Haladriel, Saurondriel, Angbang… they’re all interpretations based on Tolkien’s works, people’s own worldviews, people’s own preferences, and how people view Tolkien as an author. None of them are wholly “correct” and none of them are wholly “incorrect”.

So please for the love of Eru and the sanity of Tolkien lovers everywhere, stop acting as though your definitions, your ships, your perceived ideologies of a character, are the only correct ones. Let people enjoy what and how they may, without attacking one another.

Also as an added aside, when I make TROP memes, crack, and headcanons, they are solely for the characters as portrayed in TROP. I have my own headcanons and crack for written work Tolkien characters. I enjoy both. I love hearing other’s ideas and analysis, even if I end up not seeing it the same way. I appreciate not everyone can compartmentalise like that, but for me it allows me to enjoy more of Tolkien’s works. Heck, if I didn’t, I would not enjoy Angbang and what a sad world that would be for me because Angbang is ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥.

So go forth and ship and let ship!

[momo-minomo]

Batfam Cooking/Eating Habits

I know that the fandom has, for some reason, settled on the idea that Alfred and Jason are the only Waynes that can cook and the rest are health disasters but honestly the comics doesn't really support that (with the exception of Bruce and maybe Cass lol) and I have serious doubts that Alfred would let ANY of his kids go through life without basic life skills. So based on comics and my own thoughts and feelings, here's how I figure everyone's kitchen skills would be.

Bruce: He follows a VERY strict diet to maintain his peak physical condition but will break it for special occasions or feeding his kids takeout on patrol. As for cooking, for the most part Bruce is an utter disaster in the kitchen. He's had Alfred by his side his entire life so most of the time his attempts at cooking went extremely badly, even if it was something as simple as a damn sandwich as Tim can attest to here:

After Alfred's death he does eventually learns to make a few specific, simple things really well like the omelette he made for Clark here. As you can see, though, he's still pretty helpless in the kitchen with anything beyond the very basics, even dishwashers lol

Dick: Our flippiest boy is not the hopeless cereal-addicted kitchen disaster that fandom assumes he is. In fact, Tim was surprised at how good Dick is with all the "domestic skills" like cleaning, laundry, and cooking. Dick has cooked multiple times in the comics, especially for dates or Tim. He is constantly trying to feed his baby brother in general so he's cooked him pasta and soup for sure and just showed up with takeout or donuts a bunch.

Jason: I love the headcanon that Jason is a foodie and a really good cook even though I admit there's not much evidence for it in the comics. No evidence against it, either. Jason definitely loves to eat good food and doesn't bother with a strict diet like Batman and he loves a good burger. Considering his past, though, I think it's very in character that he'd learn to cook really well from Alfred so he's always self-sufficient. Since I don't have any comic snapshots of him cooking, here's Jason's eternal love for burgers instead!

Tim: His relationship with food seems kind of complicated to me. Tim on his own will eat super healthy so he remains in top shape for the job. What we see him eating, though, are things like plain salads, kale chips, and scrambled egg whites. Considering his extremely active life he should be eating more protein and larger portions but he often leaves them unfinished. As a young Robin it didn't seem like he got fed much at home, either, since you see Dick trying to feed him at every opportunity and he was always hungry if Alfred or Dick offered to cook or buy food for him.

When Tim is with other people, the YJ crew, his friends, Dick, Spoiler, etc he's far more willing to eat. Dick pulls out donuts and Tim is rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Dick brought a thermos of soup on patrol for himself but immediately hands it to Tim when he shows up and Tim downs it. So my HC is that Tim will eat as a necessity but doesn't really like to do it by himself. He's a social eater. He'll spend an entire afternoon eating a boring but healthy meal because he has to but if a friend or sibling show up he'll happily eat a full meal with them and even junk food.

As for Tim and cooking, we actually know he can and is pretty good at it! In comics he's cooked with Dick, learned to make chicken soup with his stepmom Dana when Steph was sick. We also see in the comics that Tim has prepared a full breakfast spread for when Jason shows up to a pre-arranged meeting to ask for information. Jason asks if the waffles are Alfred's recipe (apparently Alfred's one culinary sin is paste-like waffles lol) and is happy to sit down and munch when Tim assures him they aren't. He's also made pancakes for Steph and the family after patrol, a father's day dinner for Bruce, and a cake for Bernard! So Tim is a really good cook that doesn't really bother for just himself much. He prefers to go all out cooking for other people.

Cass: I don't know as much about Cass as I do the others (I need to read her stuff soon!) but I know she has terrible table manners and likes to sneak into her siblings and close friends apartments to eat their food, use their showers, and sleep. She has her own place, but she much prefers the homes and food of her loved ones. She also apparently didn't even blink at Alfred breaking into her home to stock her shelves with food, do laundry, and clean lol. With this I figure Cass doesn't really cook at all and just does take out, easy to eat meals that can be eaten cold or microwaved, and mooching off her loved ones' cooking and pantries!

[creepsterdreams]

heyyy, is it okay to ask for touchstarved li's with a reader who's a hugger? Just something fluffy for the soul. Thankss :D

Fluff is always a win in my book✨plus I have a feeling some of them absolutely LOVE hugs even if they don’t admit it themselves

I hope you enjoy anon! Your very welcomeee ^_^

TOUCHSTARVED headcanons: MC who’s a hugger

Cw: tooth aching fluff, Vere and Mhin being meanies at first, some mentions of violence, some suggestiveness from Vere

LEANDER

You picked just the right man for this

He could be having an entire conversation with someone and if he sees you rushing towards him he opens his warms with a huge smile on his face and waits for you to jump on him

And he will excuse himself and casually walk away with you in his arms

“Excuse me please, it seems someone needs my attention.😁”

The fact that you are a hugger only makes him fall even MORE in love with you

BEAR HUGS

Uses any and every possible excuse to have his arms on or around you

Sitting at the bar of the Wet Wick? He’s draped himself over your body and is cuddling into your nape

Just succeeded at the smallest thing? He’s lifting you up and twirling you around

Just seeing you for the first or last time that day? Your both huddled up and swaying back and forth for at least 5 whole minutes

He’s blackout drunk? Will literally drag you around wherever with an arm around you

It irritates almost everyone around you but they don’t have the heart to say anything about it

You know except Vere, Mhin, and Ais probably-

The amount of times they’ve walked in on you two damn near molded into one, they lost count

“Should we let you two be so you can keep humping each other?” - Vere

Cue Leander’s embarrassed laughing

That still doesn’t stop him though

But in all honesty he loves the fact that you love hugs

Because that means he can be as affectionate as he wants with you :>

But it also means that whenever he’s sad mode he can just…flop into your arms and lay his head on your chest

Trust him when he says that no therapy can top the feeling of your arms wrapped around him while you gently rub his back

Will totally NOT use physical affection as a way to get what he wants

Please hug this man I can tell that he needs it

AIS

Whew boy…this one’s a doozy

He has the option to just hug you back and go about his day, but then again this is Ais we're talking about he refuses to NOT tease you

He see’s you running up to him, opened arms preparing to jump on him and he stands there, not doing a damn thing

He fully allows you to just tackle him and stand there with your arms around him

He stares down at you with that same smug grin

“Feeling touchy today, sparrow?”

Now just because he’s teasing you doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the hugs

In fact he l o v e s them

The rare days he actually does decide to reciprocate the affection he doesn’t let you go for as long as he can

He’s walking into the wet wick with your legs wrapped around his waist and arms on his shoulders, his hands sitting right underneath your butt securing you in his embrace

All everyone can do is just stare at him like “this fucking guy”

CUDDLE PILES WITH THE SOULLESS

Especially princess

The days where it’s extremely cold or he’s just feeling lovey dovey you’ll spend hours huddled up at the seaspring with princess laying across both of your laps and the rest of the soulless surrounding you

Like Leander, uses any possible reason to hug you like it’s the last time he’ll see you

Will walk up to you and lift you up with one arm to spin you around

Do not say your too heavy. He will challenge you on that

The last thing you hear before being lifted up is a raspy “come ‘er you”

The worse days where the voices of the hive mind are clouding any of his own thoughts and making him more loopy than usual, your arms is usually the first thing he seeks

Standing there for long periods of time, his body simply draping itself onto you, his head buried deep into your neck, all he needed was the feeling of your own arms around him, your face pressed against his chest

And just maybe if you listened close enough, you could hear what sounded like purring

KURAS

Hmm

Hmmmmm

I get the feeling that at first he would be caught off guard, not used to the feeling of someone clinging onto him so often

For some time he simply chuckles whenever you hug him and gives you a slightly awkward pat on the back before you pull away

But once he actually starts getting used to your affection, he’s more than happy to give it right back :>

Unlike the others who are fully prepared and have arms waiting for you, this tall man instead stands there with absolutely no intention of moving

He lets you run to him and pull him into a tight hold, paying no attention to what’s happening around him as he rests his hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing it

He never explicitly states that he loves or hates the hugs, but he does never pull away whenever you do it

If you happen to be at the clinic whenever he’s dealing with a patient and you wanted a hug he would tell you as gently as possible to wait a moment

“Give a minute would you my dear, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Very soft but very firm <3

Does not give a fuck if other people say something about your excessive hugging

He’ll give them a harsh side eye but otherwise say nothing about it 

If there is any chance he wants a hug back, he won’t directly say it, but he will make it known he wants one

Walks up to you and simply says “my love” before grabbing you by the hand to pull you close

It’s sudden, but that doesn’t make it any less wholesome

The kind of man to let you run up and hug him with all of your strength and simply continue the conversation he was having

Imagine one rare night he decides to bring out his wings and wraps them around you to add to the hug

Probably one of the few cases where he’s brought out his wings that wasn’t for “other” reasons

VERE

Wheeewwww all I have to say is, good luck

If you thought Ais was bad with the teasing, Vere will do you one better

The second you wrap your arms around him it’s like he’s programmed to bully you

“Aw well isn’t someone feeling needy.”

He’s not pulling away, but that doesn’t mean he’s shutting up lmao

The first time you did it, he simply stood there. Ears pressed down as his tail was fluffed up

He didn’t know what to do. I don’t think this guy has gotten a genuine hug before

His first instinct was to push you away, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that. You weren’t attacking him or anything, you were just, embracing him?

Once you did pull away he replaced his initial shock with a smirk, using his pointer finger to lift your chin and ask if you wanted to touch him that badly

It takes him longer than Kuras to get used to your affection, he’s probably only used to being touched if it’s sex related unfortunately

Prefers if you gently wrap your arms around him instead of running up and practically jumping on him

He’ll be damned before he looks like a fool in public

Pray for whoever decides to be brave enough to comment on your hugging because it can go two ways

Vere says fuck it and kills them right there

Or he sends them so many passive aggressive comments they just walk away reevaluating their life

Only HE can bully you

Takes him forever to start coming to you for comfort hugs

It would have been at least some time after you’ve known each other

One day he just straight up drags you away from what your doing, making sure it was just you and him

He then proceeds to damn near suffocate you with his hold, but after a few seconds you hug him back, both of you locked in place, his tail wagging in pure glee

He tells you to pretend it never happened but you can see the way his tail sways whenever you hug him again

MHIN

In all honesty, they are probably the first one to actually push you away the first time you hug them

Not used to physical affection at ALL but also does not desire it

They didn’t mean to be so forceful when they pushed you, they just genuinely weren’t expecting you to be so…so

Affectionate?

So when you run up and jump on them one day after they just finished hunting soulless their all like “⁉️⁉️”

When you look at them with concern they just tsk and look away

“At least ask first.”

Is fully aware of your hugger tendencies they just…don’t know what to do with that

For some time you do ask first if it’s okay to hug them, and they say yes, but then they proceed to just stand there stiff as a board as you love on them

But if anyone dares to bring up your clinginess their quick to snap back at them

ESPECIALLY if it’s anyone besides Kuras

Even if they don’t show it, they do appreciate you being willing to be physically affectionate in anyway

Especially after so many years of them being convinced that no one could love a monster

Also prefers if you would gently hug them than run up, but also wouldn’t mind the second thing

If you do then they just blush and flick you on the head

Because I have a feeling that they are someone that you cannot sneak up on so there’s a good chance they heard you coming💔

After a while (like a few months) they eventually get used to your constant hugging, so if there’s ever a day where you aren’t wrapped around them then they are quick to wonder if your okay

We love soft Mhin

On the very rare days that Mhin ever seeks out your hugs for comfort, they make sure that they make it count

Like Vere, pulls you aside so it’s just the two of you and simply gives you a tight squeeze, with their hand resting on the back of your head

After that pull away and then pretend nothing just happened but you can see the blush on their face <3

[lale-txt]

LALECHINGO!! ; a birthday event

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ it’s bingo! and also a raffle.

let’s party!! one thing about me is that is love a little event and since it’s my birthday month i felt like hosting one :3c

so: raffle time! but you gotta play some bingo first before you can participate. lemme give you a rundown on how it works.

what's the prize?

✰ a total of three 1k (or longer) fics from me! i don’t take requests so this is a rare chance to see something specific written by me ✰ the 3 winners will receive a wishlist form from me in which they can go wild ✰ haikyuu x reader only! gender of reader is for the winners to decide, i’ll write for all of them. ✰ not limited to sfw only (that being said: mdni)

details & rules (it looks like a lot, but i promise it's easy)

✰ to participate in the raffle, you gotta fill out the bingo cards! there’s ten of them in total at the end of this post. some are writing prompts, some are for reading, some to spread some kindness. you can grab and combine any that catch your interest.

✰ 1 bingo equals 1 point. if you manage to fill out an entire card, you’ll get 10 points, so 10x your name in the draw pot for the raffle. this means you can get up to 100 points in total if you fill out all ten cards completely.

✰ it’s not first come, first serve! you got two weeks to have fun with your bingo cards.

✰ this event is mostly about making fandom a little better for everyone, whether you’re a writer or a reader, no matter how you participate in it. this means you don’t have to show me proofs how you got these bingos. putting my trust in you that you won’t cheat <3

✰ since the prizes are gonna be fics by me, i would feel better knowing you actually like my works enough to follow me. however, it’s not a must to be a follower to participate. again, it’s more about fandom than me.

✰ writers picking up the writing prompts: it up to you how you use them! can be drabbles or headcanons, small fics, big fics, moodboards, not limited to haikyuu only. really whatever sparks your inspiration. you don’t even have to publish it or tag me in it (though i’d love to see ofc hehe), this is for YOU and your inspiration.

✰ do NOT bring any ai into this. i'll rip you to shreds

✰ once you’re finished, either reblog this post with your bingo cards or send me an ask with them (i won’t publish them, just for me to keep track)

✰ i’ll draw & announce the three winners on Jan 27th and will contact them through dms for their wishlist :3

card 1-6 ; for the writers

card 7 & 8 ; for the readers

card 9 & 10 ; for the kindness

that's all! have fun ♡ - Lale

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[am-i-interrupting]

Hi hi, I hope you're doing well!!

If it's okay, could I request some soft headcanons (SFW and NSFW) for Viktor with a chubby partner? Bonus points if he's trying to comfort them after people have been awfully mean about their appearance (totally not self indulgent at all lol)

Either way, thank you in advance and I hope you have a wonderful day/night 💙

Viktor loves you. He loves your personality, your humor, your way of thinking, and yes, your body.

You are the most beautiful thing he’s seen. Ever. No contest.

On the days you don’t understand that, seem to believe the opposite at that, he’s so confused but he’s insistent on making you understand.

He’ll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist and place a kiss on your cheek.

His hands will seek out every part of you, going in every dip and following every curve.

“I love you,” he’ll say, “I’m so unbelievably lucky to have you.”

If you disagree, try to brush him off, he’ll hold you even closer.

“What reason do I have to lie? If I do not appreciate your presence in my life, why waste time and energy trying to keep it? You are my best friend, my closest confidant, my darling and beautiful lover. I adore you.”

No matter when or where, he will grab you up, pull you aside, just strive to get your attention when he notices those tell tale signs.

There’s even been events he’s been pushed to go to that he would manage to talk you into going with as his partner.

He would surprise you with outfits, perhaps slightly out of your comfort zone but seeing his reaction would bring you some pride so you wore it. However, there was a difference between the cozy walls of your home and the distant walls of these events.

He’d never fail to pull you aside and run his hands over your body as he reminded you with his forehead against yours and his breath fanning out to touch your skin how stunning he found you.

There was no hesitation in the way he would kiss you. In front of people and sighing private, it was the same type of kiss. Though occasionally, the public ones were more scandalous in ways, more of a firm commitment and a hard stance he had to anyone who didn’t believe in your beauty, even if that was simply yourself.

NSFW

He would take his time undressing you.

His hands and eyes trailing you with clear adoration.

He’d palm at the rolls. He’d place kisses on the stretch marks. He took every single second to show you how beautiful he found you.

These were the sessions which lasted the longest.

He pointed out every insecurity of yours and told you in great detail how he admired it.

He would go to things that you didn’t even notice about yourself and tell you how darling it was.

He was your greatest admirer. A man studied in science but spoke about you like you were the most revered art.

One hand would work to get you off as the other still grazed your body.

He’d be beside you, not letting you touch him.

His head on your shoulder as he looked down at your body from as close to your point of view as he could.

“Stunning,” he’d whisper when you finally came.

He would take a moment to let you calm down. His lips on your neck and the bottom of your chin.

He’d roll over so his leg straddled yours. His bum leg extended out to the side while the other curled beneath him.

It was then that you could see and feel his erection.

He’d undo his pants and let himself free.

“All because of you,” he would say as he’d begin to stroke himself. “You do this to me. No one else holds a candle close to you, my sun.”

He would let you wrap your fingers around him. His hand wrapped around your arm to steady himself.

His eyes never closed as he came as well.

“Beautiful,” he would say softly as his head kneeled and bonked yours. “So beautiful. So perfect, you are.”

The night would come to a finish with water and cuddles and soft words but not before he deliberately held your gaze as he licked his spend off your body, striking up a fire and another round.

[shyamanuensis]

dad!headcanons - hl boys

because i'm hormonal and maternal at the moment and feel like subjecting you all to the crack inside my head.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕙

★ dad!garreth who wanted a massive family because chaos and mayhem are what he's use to but has somehow found himself second guessing his taunts of 'how about one more to add to the bunch' with all 5 kids being girls. he thought 'eh girls - they're easy'; WRONG! he's never been driven this mad in his life but secretly adores every second of it.

★ dad!garreth who has perfected the art of braiding hair and listening as if his life depends on it to all the drama your daughters rambling on about 24/7. who's dating whom at hogwarts - who got caught by a professor in the broom cupboard - the cute boy who made the quidditch team - how professor ronen is still teaching and isn't fair on his grades. he loves the small talk; but it does get confusing keeping up.

★ can we take a moment to appreciate the way dad!garreth handles the fact all the members of his household have gone through or are experiencing the discomforts of becoming young women? the screaming, the crying, the insecurities, the hormones. for a week each month his wage goes directly to chocolate, tissues and tampons; maybe not always in that order but nonetheless, it's a shopping trip he's become accustomed to making.

★living under a roof with 6 women was probably a teenage dream for dad!garreth but no… he appreciates his time away from the madness that is the weasley household. he's never out for more than a single drink though and irrespective of how old his little girls are, he's always at home by 8 to tuck the youngest into bed and give the oldest a peptalk about how anyone with the last name sallow isn't good enough for them (much to your humour and dismay).

★ summers in the weasley household when the children were younger were often spent outdoors from dawn until dusk and dad!garreth makes a point of keeping every single daisy chain crown his daughters have made him over the years; pressing them in his office between old textbooks he never opened during his time at hogwarts to keep them as memories.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤

★ dad!ominis who was reluctant to start a family at first not wanting to pass down his insecurities or imperfections however is smitten over how delicate yet ambitious his twin girls are. their feistiness definitely comes from their mother; their sarcasm their father.

★ dad!ominis that makes sure he takes time off work and makes arrangements as required to attend every single 'parent/child' school day - not so he can brag but so his daughters can brag about him and how wonderful they think he is. he'd be lying if he didn't get a kick out of it. parents needed as volunteers for fieldtrips - his name is on the list. every - single - time.

★ it took a year of solid practice for hours on a saturday and for 15 minutes or so each night after school but dad!ominis was able to teach both girls how to play piano by the age of 6. patience his absolute virtue - plus it meant that you got time to yourself too. the girls however, have a habit of playing dramatic classics whenever you have a headache or are just not in the mood and he smirks; aloof to the behaviour whenever you question him.

★ strict? yeah dad!ominis likes to think he rules with an iron fist but that is absolutely not the case. he's the first to bend and break at any demand you or your daughters make. "daddy, read to me?" - he's sitting on the bed with them until they fall asleep to the sound of his voice. "daddy! you said i could have xyz!" - somehow he's found himself carrying around a bag of shopping and a lighter wallet.

★ as with garreth - dad!ominis is quick to remind his girls that any of the sallow boys are not worth their time. he could barely handle sebastian as a friend let alone does he want him as an in-law. although it is no secret that you're aware of one of the twins dating the eldest sallow boy you've kept that news under wraps, unsure of when to break it to him.

𝕕𝕒𝕕!𝕤𝕖𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕟

★ dad!sebastian who views parenting as not only the greatest gift in the world but a chance for him to relive some of his childhood now that he has 3 boys of his own - and no, your genetics clearly failed to turn up to the party because your sons are all spitting images of their father.

★ dad!sebastian who has no care for curfews or rules - boys will be boys in his eyes and this behaviour can range from rough housing in the kitchen and breaking your wedding crockery to staying up until the early hours of the morning assiting him with research and usually stealing a sip of whiskey when the kids think he's not looking. "but they need sleep sebastian!" no… according to him their body clocks will settle when they need to; as will their behaviour.

★ the amount of heart attacks dad!sebastian has managed to give you swinging off of trees or climbing into ruins with your sons you've lost count of. it's almost expected behaviour now for the 4 men of the sallow household to make your heart race - a sweat wash your skin at the start of every morning wondering what on earth they could get up to next but you're just grateful he hasn't managed to end up in hospital or have himself arrested.

★ the boys need something? dad!sebastian default response is "ask your mother". will he ever come off as the bad guy - not unless he really has to. you can count on one hand the times he's had to discipline his sons and rather than traditional oldschool tactics, sebastian is far more fond of empty threats like 'don't make me tell you the story of how you were conceived' or 'play up and i'll make sure you have a baby sister.'

★ aware of his charm that his sons have clearly inherited, dad!sebastian is more than happy to prod and poke fun at both garreth and ominis about how their daughters would one day carry the last name sallow. although the taunts are often received with rolled eyes and in jest, he's very aware that his eldest boy and one of ominis daughters often sneak away together when the families get together and you have to near beg him every single time not to open his mouth knowing that ominis wouldn't handle it.

★★★ leander, amit and others to follow.

[mithrava]

Some random jayvik headcanon that makes me go ✨💏💘🥹💞💐🌈💫💖 and omg they were lab partners!

- They have some intense arguments over NOTHING. Like cereal or milk first, the position of the toilet paper rolls. Sky thinks they will be on each other's throat until, all of the sudden, they are laughing. 

- From time to time, Jayce will pop a "would you rather" question out of nowhere. Viktor takes them very seriously, one question will linger throughout the day, various discussions about the two options. They are always stupid nonsense options.

- Viktor telling some sensasionalist made up shit about Zaun that gets Jayce "omg really? :O" all the time. When Jayce looks at Sky for help she always nods in agreement.

- Viktor being pulled for a silly dancey dance whenever they have a breakthrough or get a project to work. He pretends to hate it, but always dance along with Jayce. As the years go by and his leg gets worse, Jayce will hold him in his arms so they can still get their little dance done. It's a tradition now.

- Jayce's shin + Viktor's cane = a love story

- Cudly naps on the lab couch. Sometimes it gets so cudly they are almost one. Sometimes they never talk about these clingy naps. Sometimes they will tease each other over funny positions they ended up sleeping in.

- Jayce is the only person Viktor will ever accept a piggyback ride from when his leg is taking a toll on him. Just because he can smell Jayce's hair better when he is being carried. Warm hands on his tights? Yes, thank you. Viktor can almost kiss his neck sometimes. He never does, though. Jayce wishes he did.

- The blanket has been there for years. Jayce thinks it smells like Viktor. Viktor thinks it smells like Jayce. It just smells like home. Sky would never dare to touch it if she's at the lab, leave it to the loverboys or whatever they are.

- "You are a genius!" moments where Jayce just holds Viktor's face and kisses his forehead multiple times. Viktor always gets a little dizzy and quickly shuts the stupid butterflies in his guts.

- Of course it was Jayce who took care of Viktor when he had to get those bolts into his spine for the brace. Viktor would get 😠 whenever Jayce acted like a mother hen. Yes, he can shower on his own, Mr. Talis. No, you don't have to carry him around... Well, not all the time. Ok, you can help him get dressed while he can't bend down. That's some of their most intimate moments, but never erotic no, just pure love and care. Viktor was in a lot of pain, but he never felt so loved before. Even Ximena dropped by to spoil him a bit.

- Viktor allows himself one curse word a day for the sake of his sanity and it's always "shut the fuck up, Jayce" with way too much tenderness and a hint of a laugh.

- Random hugs from Jayce just because he is that clingy. He hugs like a bear, almost breaking ribs, pulling V from the floor. Viktor loves it, thought it hurts a bit. He will never say it, but Jayce knows it because there will always be a stubburn smile trying to win against Viktor serious face.

- They love each other and know it, from every cuddly nap to silly dances with no music on. It is said out loud in one of those quiet nights at the lab. They kiss when this day comes just the way they wanted so badly and the couch gets to witness more than naps.

[linkemon]

Romantic tropes headcanons

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This part contains: Riddle Rosehearts, Silver and Cater Diamond.

Riddle Rosehearts • Academic Rivals

• When he first saw your name on the school leaderboard, he was intrigued. Someone new — a mere first-year — managed to land on the podium, right behind him. That feeling, however, quickly turned into jealousy and then into hatred. You scored higher than him? Impossible! He even went to check his paper twice with Professor Trein.

• At first, he would only give you strange looks from the end of the hallway. It had to be a fluke, a one-time stroke of luck. But when you stuck your tongue out at him the second time, peeking over the results sheet, he thought he might lose his mind. His face turned bright red and his shout could be heard in several practice rooms nearby.

• And so began a battle to see who could achieve higher grades. You were constantly neck and neck, shoving test results in each other's faces. Strangely enough, you often ended up in the same places— whether practicing flying on broomsticks or brewing potions.

• All of Heartslabyul, to put it lightly, was suffering. When their leader is at war, everyone is drafted, whether they like it or not. Riddle became much more irritable. Since he couldn’t use his magic on you, he took out his frustration by closely scrutinizing his dorm members. Desperate to escape this mess, they decided to do whatever they could to ensure your defeat.

• That’s when the sabotage started — throwing obstacles in your way, which at first Riddle had no idea about. He only found out when he caught someone sneaking into the library to steal your books. Despite his fiery temper, his sense of justice demanded fairness. He caught the culprit, punished them and personally returned your books, apologizing.

• He expected you to be furious but your eyes only showed exhaustion. Fed up after a long day of studying, you invited him to sit down since he was already there. At some point, you blurted out that your parents forced you to study and you were tired of it. Riddle confessed that he understood, thanks to his mother. The rest of your study session passed in silence. But that evening, something changed. Riddle began to admire the way you pushed yourself and though his face still flushed red whenever he saw you, it was no longer for the same reasons...

Silver • Damsel in distress

• Silver is a knight through and through. Lilia trained him his entire life for this role. However, his gentle nature and desire to help others shine just as brightly as his combat skills.

• Somehow, he’s always there when you need him. Grim ran off and you need to find him? Silver just woke up from a nap thanks to your noisy companion and assures you he’ll track him down faster than you can.

• You tripped on the stairs? He was right there, catching you by the waist and gently lifting you up. For a brief moment, his face was a little too close to yours, and he apologized profusely but he simply couldn’t help it.

• You were bored and decided to watch the equestrian club meeting? He offered you a ride on one of the horses, which promptly bolted with you on its back. You were terrified but the moment Silver caught up and reined in the horse made it all worth it. Of course, he insisted on taking you back to the stables himself — for 'safety reasons'.

• Not to mention the time he used his magic to shield you from some troublemaking students, then carried you to the nurse when he noticed you’d gotten a small scratch. Sometimes, it feels like the bad luck that follows you around isn’t so bad after all — because it always brings him close. You might as well knight him as your personal protector, always saving you from trouble...

Cater Diamond • Fake dating

• When Cater suggested fake dating, you didn’t see what he could gain from it. That is, until he explained how it would help improve his image on Magicam. You didn’t have much to lose. In exchange, he promised you could keep anything you got from the sponsorships, which were piling up. Free clothes, cosmetics and gadgets were hard to turn down, especially since the headmaster wasn’t exactly helpful when it came to funding for the Ramshackle dorm.

• Your friends couldn’t believe the two of you were together. After the first picture, questions flooded in — especially from first-years and the residents of Heartslabyul. You both decided to be honest with your close friends but agreed not to let the rest of the school know. Most of them thought this was a terrible idea.

• After a while, your friends started to question whether it was really all for show. You held hands during class, gave Cater little kisses in exchange for small favours and spent entire afternoons together doing countless things. You went on 'dates' almost every week. If not for the phones constantly in your hands, they might genuinely believe it was real. Little did they know, they were closer to the truth than they thought.

• During one paid photoshoot, Cater glanced at your smiling face as you proudly showed off to a photographer a stuffed animal he’d won for you at an amusement park. His heart caught in his throat. That’s when he realized things had gone too far. When he asked you to keep your photo from the park just between the two of you, you did as he asked. Now, he stares at it at night, wondering how to fix this. What he doesn’t know is that you do the exact same thing...