#hedcanon

[sy1vs-3]

I need more Sylus with dragon instincts, so.... ☆

please enjoy...♡

I love thinking about how at some point, purely on instinct, Sylus would start building a nest. Like—he doesn’t even think about it, he just starts collecting all the little things you like and arranging them super carefully in the corner of the living room. You stared too long at a pendant in a store but said no when he offered to buy it? Yeah, he definitely went back for it and put it right in the center of the table. Left a hoodie or some other piece of clothing at his place? It’s already sitting in that same corner on the softest pillow he owns. Every tiny thing that ever caught your attention ends up there.

What does frustrate him, though, is that most of the stuff you like is… kind of cheap. He wants to give you the whole world, his entire hoard of treasures—and yet you’re out here looking at little trinkets, bottles with cute prints, and random shiny bits. So he tries to balance it out. Adds a couple rare gems. Some rare weapons. And definitely a lot more soft, cozy things.

He’d never come out and say, “this is a nest I made for you,” but he’s absolutely hoping you’ll go there on your own. He wants you to get it. It feels ridiculous to him, but he literally can’t help it—it’s pure instinct. And he will get upset if you ignore it. He won’t say anything, but he’ll get quiet and broody. You hurt his feelings. That’s serious.

But if you do notice your hoodie and walk over there, he’ll watch your reaction so closely. And once you’re there? He’s not letting you leave. He’s going to point at every single item and tell you exactly why it’s there.

He tried really hard to make it not seem weird, okay? And honestly, if you ignore the mountain of pillows and blankets, the clothes, weapons, jewelry, and all the random stuff you like—it’s actually a pretty cozy corner. There’s a soft chair. Warm lights. It’s a vibe. Please sit there. He’d be so, so happy.

part 2 🌸

Sorry, it's my first time here 🫧

[crowspetrat]

Everyone hanging out Eddie doing his typical jokey flirt just to push Steve's buttons and Steve's brain going into autopilot and flirting back, snapping his jaw shut the moment he remembered where he was and who Eddie was, meanwhile Eddie's poor brain just fully crashes.

[heisa030]

I think Infinite cries in private when thinking in his family of mercenaries... If he even remembers them 🤔

In the case that Infinite is fr a different guy than "Zero", I think he would still feel like something is missing.

[viiiiiliiiii]

let’s talk about how Neil cannot do hickeys. and really, who if not Andrew is going to help him with that? straddling him, Neil starts off the way he always does: tracing along Andrew’s neck with the tip of his nose until he finds that spot along the collarbone, where the skin stretches tight, safely away from anything vital. he prepares it with soft, careful kisses, then starts to suck lightly at the pale skin — just like Andrew showed him a minute ago (the evidence still scattered across Neil’s own neck).

Andrew’s breathing stays even. his fingers rest loosely at Neil’s elbow, at his waist, grounding him as Neil tries his hardest to leave a mark. If hickeys are just burst blood vessels, then his job should be simple — just enough pressure to make them surface. what’s so hard about it, if Andrew can leave a whole constellation of them on him overnight? but… Neil pulls back slightly, blinking in surprise at the bright red mark blooming against Andrew’s skin. It almost slips out, it worked, but the moment he looks away for even a second, the color fades right before his eyes. A quiet, disappointed sigh. “It’s gone…” Andrew’s palm slides lazily over his thigh as he says, completely casual, “You’re not sucking enough.” (a joke? a hint?)

Neil knows he’s doing something wrong, he must be, but then the second meaning settles in, slow and heavy, and he pauses. he lifts his head from studying Andrew’s skin and looks straight into those unreadable eyes. “…Really?” he blurts. “Should I try again?” there’s a slight raise of an eyebrow in response. and oh.. Andrew forgets that Neil takes things like this seriously. and yes, his competitive nature will drive him to prove the opposite. and it’s best not to even think about exactly where. Andrew’s hand slips under Neil’s t-shirt, tracing along the scarred line of his waist, and Neil arches instinctively, settling more comfortably against Andrew’s thighs.

“We’ve been at this for twenty minutes, and you still haven’t managed a single hickey. Don’t get distracted,” Andrew says, catching the way Neil’s gaze has already started to blur at the edges. “Will you show me again?” Neil asks, tilting his head just slightly. “You just want another mark?” Andrew counters. Neil bites his lip and answers with a silent, shameless nod. and really, who is Andrew to refuse to teach his boyfriend? right. no one. especially not when he leans in again, pressing his mouth to Neil’s neck.

[lesbian-aunt]

let fat Bilbo be confident! I'm looking at you, modern AUs. I love you, but please, for the love of god, let Bilbo be fat and confident middle aged man. He doesn't have to be self conscious! He's hot! If Thorin loves his plump, soft body, let him do that too

[qulfij]

hello qulfij.... do you have any headcanons for style or stenny!!

Hello Chaos!! <)

I've got some notes for a Style headcanon. It's fluff. Not finished, but you get the idea.

For Stenny, I might do something similar too.

[ayvi]

The love of a bully

Plot: You're new to school. You're trying to turn over a new leaf in your life. However, the school bully Drake decides to become a part of your life. He's obsessed with you. You're his only one and no one will come between you.

Warning: violence, blood, bullying, Yandere, unhealthy love, obsessionobsession

P.S Drake is a character in my book The Angel of Death. (I don't speak English, I'm sorry for the mistakes.)

In the cramped school corridors, there was only one whispered warning: avoid Drake. Don't look his way. Don't let him catch your eye. Drake Russell was the resident bully. He kept the entire school in a state of fear. Students tried to avoid crossing paths with Drake and his gang, and even teachers turned a blind eye to his antics. His name was whispered with a tremor in their knees. Drake possessed a captivating beauty, a scorching audacity, and an undeniable power that everyone bowed to. A single glance from his dark eyes seemed capable of piercing one's very soul…

Y/N had only moved here a week ago, tired of the noisy metropolis and wanting to find some peace. You were a quiet, slightly shy, but very kind and open girl who tried not to attract too much attention to herself. The new school turned out to be the same as all the others. You started your life with a clean slate: a new home, a new school, new friends… However, like everyone else, you avoided Drake and his company. Just one look from him and an unpleasant shiver would instantly run down your body. You wanted to sink through the floor, just to hide from him… But no matter how hard you tried not to attract his attention, no matter how low you lowered your gaze, just to become invisible to him, you always felt his piercing gaze on you.

Monday morning. You realize with horror that you are slightly late for school. You quickly get dressed, grab your backpack and, refusing your mom's breakfast, run to the front door. Only you didn't expect to meet Drake near your house. He was standing by his black motorcycle, smoking a cigarette. At that moment, you wanted to open your eyes and realize that it was all nothing more than a dream. A figment of your imagination. — "Gonna keep undressing me with your eyes all day? Get on and let's go," — the dark-haired hooligan ordered, exhaling a cloud of smoke. — "Where?" — you nervously asked Drake, cursing yourself for the tremor in your voice. — "To school, where else?" — Drake replied. — "You shouldn't have… I… I can get there myself…" — as gently as possible, to avoid incurring the wrath of the hooligan, you tried to decline his offer. — "Did I ask if you wanted a ride or not? I said: 'Get on and let's go!'" — Drake said, throwing his cigarette butt on the ground and stomping it out. A chill ran down your spine at his tone. You slowly walked towards the motorcycle, Drake handed you a helmet. Settling in behind the dark-haired guy, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. Drake started the engine, and you sharply pulled away from the spot in the direction of the school. When you arrived and Drake stopped the motorcycle, you hurriedly got off and, taking off the helmet, returned it to Drake.

— "Thank you," — you quietly thanked the dark-haired guy. — "You're welcome… From today on, I'm driving you to and from school… And I won't tolerate any objections, doll," — Drake stated as a fact, adjusting his black leather jacket. You looked at him with wide eyes, as if he had just grown a second head, unable to believe what you were hearing. Your whole world, so calm and predictable just a week ago, was now crumbling under this guy's pressure. You ran out of Drake's sight as quickly as you could, but your nightmare was only just beginning… This week became hell for you… In just one instant, all your friends distanced themselves from you. Everyone you used to talk to walked past you with their heads down, as if they didn't know you. As if you didn't exist. Your friends, with whom you always had lunch, talked during breaks, now ran away from you, excusing themselves with lots of business and promises to talk later… lies… You didn't understand the reason for the change in Drake's behavior. His gaze, his dark eyes, was always focused only on you. He didn't look at any other girl that way. It was as if you were the only person in the whole world. The way his hands unusually gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, the way he grabbed your hands, ordering you to hold on tighter, the way he left gifts for you on your desk and in your school locker… insignificant, but which made your heart skip a beat. You remember discovering a velvet black box, inside which was a silver chain with a heart pendant, where Drake's and your initials were engraved. An ordinary piece of jewelry, but it was a symbol that you belonged to him and only him. Flashes of memories were still flashing in your memory… There was a new guy in your class, he was so friendly to you… You were lonely. You forgot about Drake and everything else. You quickly found common ground. It seemed to you that he was your soulmate… your salvation. You started talking, had lunch together, spent time together, exchanged phone numbers… For a moment, Drake disappeared from your sight. It seemed to you that he had left you alone… played enough and thrown you away like an unwanted toy. He was the school bully. His style was to bully, to make people afraid…

You lingered a little in class because you were the student on duty. The school was already empty. All the students had long gone home, you grabbed your backpack, left the classroom and headed for the exit. Your heart skipped a beat… your friend was lying on the floor. He was covered in blood. His face and hands were cut and bruised. His breathing was raspy, maybe his nose was broken. Drake was standing next to him. His tall silhouette towered over the guy. The knuckles of his fingers were bruised. He cocked his leg and kicked the guy in the stomach again, knocking the air out of his lungs. Drake slowly turned his head in your direction. You wanted to run. You wanted to be in your room and, like a little child, climb into bed and hide under the covers. But you didn't move. Fear paralyzed your body. Drake slowly, like a predator stalking his prey, walked towards you. And you were his prey… You screamed in surprise and from a faint throbbing pain when Drake, grabbing your hand, threw you back against the lockers. He pinned you against them, blocking your escape. — “Why…? Why are you doing this?… What did he do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve this?" — you managed to ask, barely holding back tears. Drake leaned down to your ear. His hot breath threatened to burn you. — "Better ask yourself why you make me do this…," — the hooligan said, just a little louder than a whisper. You froze. — "Look at him… That's what happens to those who dare even to look at you. It's a cautionary lesson not only for such pathetic bastards like him, who forget their place when they trespass on my property, but also for you, doll. I'm almost hurt by how quickly you gave yourself to this freak… Smiling, looking at him with those… lovestruck eyes. I was lenient with you… Giving you all those trinkets, putting all those upstarts in their place so that they wouldn't even dare to touch you and hurt you… But you spat on it!" — Drake slammed his fist against the locker door near your head. You screamed sharply from the surprise. — "Maybe I shouldn't have done that, maybe you like being treated rougher?! If I want to, I'll put you through such hell that you'll come crawling to me on your knees! One word from me and all those you considered friends and the other lackeys of this school will ostracize you…," — horror was reflected in your eyes, tears were already streaming down your cheeks. Drake's threats were not empty words. No. They were real. You knew it. Drake looked into your eyes. You were trembling like an aspen leaf. Suddenly, gently, he brushed away a tear with his finger, then lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. He leaned down lower and kissed you on the lips. The kiss was rough, but at the same time tender, as if he didn't want to scare you any more than he already had. He pulled away. — "I don't want to be cruel to you, but you force me to. You drive me to this limit yourself… You tease my feelings yourself… I'll forgive you this once, but next time, I won't be so merciful. You're mine. The sooner you learn that, doll, the better for you…"

[oallli]

Who would have known how much I adore Alastor's habit of tapping on the Vox screen, and it looks so familiar and organic to both of them - Vox immediately takes the hint and shuts up and doesn't look surprised at all, and Alastor does it with such ease and ease, as if repeating the same gesture for the hundredth time. And God, I want to believe that this habit originated when they were still close!! <3333

Or how Alastor grabs Vox by the collar and he reacts as if it's completely normal

Vox literally doesn't do ANYTHING about it in that scene and just continues the conversation, allowing Alastor to hold him as he pleases.