#and tries to make me into his version of myself

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.

[cheynovak]

The Beach City Reunion

Summary: Follows up fanfiction 'Spikes' Y/N returns to the beach city grill after 5 years. Meeting Priestly who has been going through a break up with Tish.

Warning: none

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hadn’t set foot in Beach City Grill in five years. The place looked mostly the same—faded posters of bands on the walls, the familiar hum of music in the background, and the faint smell of fries and grilled burgers wafting through the air. But as she walked in, scanning for any trace of the old Priestly, her eyes caught on someone who almost looked like him… but not quite.

He was wearing a plain blue button-down shirt, his once vibrant, spiked hair now a subdued shade of brown with a matching beard, smoothed down to an almost painfully ordinary style. She blinked, wondering if she was imagining things.

“Priestly?!” she called out, half-questioning, half in disbelief.

He turned, and when he saw her, his face lit up like a firework. Before she could react, he was around the counter, pulling her into a warm hug.

“Y/N!” he said, grinning. “Wow, look at you! You’ve… changed!” She laughed, pulling back to look at him. “Me? Look at you! W-what happened?”

They slipped into one of the booths, and for a moment, Y/N couldn’t stop staring. She missed the wild, bold Priestly she’d once adored, and this version of him looked like he’d been smothered in beige.

He gave her a sheepish look, glancing down at his shirt. “Tish happened. She, uh, liked me better like this. Thought I should look ‘respectable’—whatever that means. I guess she thought I was only worth dating if I, well, dressed ‘normal.’ So I tried it for her, figured it was worth it if it made her happy.”

Y/N listened quietly, seeing a flicker of embarrassment and something else—something lost—in his eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “we broke things off a couple of months ago. She said I’d come back ‘begging for another chance,’ but… I don’t think that’s gonna happen. I realized I just don’t know who I am anymore. Lost myself somewhere along the way.”

She nodded, giving him a small, understanding smile. “Sometimes, you think someone’s worth changing for. But if it means you stop being you…” She trailed off, knowing he’d get it.

Priestly chuckled, a hint of his old spark showing through. “Yeah, funny to hear that coming from you."

She grinned, and he noticed a faint edge of her old punk style still shining through—rings on her fingers, a subtle black eyeliner that gave her an edge, But the spiked choker was gone and changed for a leather jacket.

“So,” he said, leaning in with a warm smile, “what about you? How’s life been since you flew the coop?”

She shrugged, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement bubble up. “A lot’s changed. I went to college, didn't finish, moved around a bit. I’ve grown up, well a little. Showed up at your doorstep.”

Priestly gave her a look—one of admiration, maybe even a touch of envy. “I’m glad you came back. You look good, Y/N. Like… like you didn’t lose yourself along the way, you grew, literally and figuratively, I like it.”

She felt her cheeks heat, but she kept her gaze steady. “Priestly, the guy who always makes a girl feel special." She smiles softly before adding, "I aways thought you were amazing just the way you were.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, he looked like he believed her.

“Maybe it’s time to bring a little of that guy back,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “The boring brown hair and button-downs were never really me anyway.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the grill as if nothing had changed at all. And as they sat there, catching up and reconnecting, Priestly felt like he was finally waking up from a long, colorless dream.

Y/N could feel Tish’s glare burning into them as she leaned across the counter to pay, with a mischievous smile. “Why don’t I take you shopping after your shift?” she suggested, tapping her fingers playfully on the countertop. “It’d be nice to catch up… and maybe ditch the corporate look. Show a little more of those tattoos again?”

Priestly glanced at Tish, who was shooting them daggers from across the room, and then shrugged with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, why not?” he replied, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll see you at five.”

By the time they hit the first store, Y/N was buzzing with excitement. She dragged Priestly to every section, picking out things that she knew he would’ve rocked a few years back. A leather jacket here, a pair of torn jeans there. She even managed to dig up a kilt, holding it out with a grin that made him snort.

“Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he held the kilt up in disbelief, “I can’t wear this. Not anymore. I feel like a kid playing dress-up.”

Y/N’s grin softened. “You’re in your thirties, Priestly. Maybe a kilt isn’t the answer anymore,” she admitted, leaning against the wall of the dressing room. She looked at him thoughtfully, eyes gleaming with an idea. “But… do you trust me?”

He raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright. Go ahead, show me what you’ve got.”

Y/N set the kilt aside and walked over to a different rack, pulling out a pair of dark, well-fitted jeans and handing him a plain grey t-shirt. She added a pair of heavy black combat boots and a leather jacket to the ensemble. “Just try these,” she said, “I think you’ll be surprised.”

Priestly emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later, his expression shifting from skepticism to something closer to acceptance. He turned to her, hands stuffed in his pockets, giving her a shy, crooked grin. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh wow, not bad at all,” Y/N said, giving him a once-over feeling her cheeks burn. The jeans hugged his frame well, and the boots added a sturdy, rugged vibe. The t-shirt was simple, but it all brought back a hint of the old Priestly’s edge without trying too hard.

But she wasn’t done yet. “Alright,” she said with a wink, “one last stop.”

She drove him to a nearby barber she’d found online, and before he could protest, she leaned close, whispering her instructions into the barber’s ear.

"Oh and keep the beard." she said walking back outside. Priestly gave her a mock look of fear, but he settled into the chair, trusting her, despite his nerves.

A half hour later, Priestly emerged from the barber’s chair with his hair freshly styled. The sides were clipped short, but the top was left a little longer and tousled. No more mohawk, but it was still a look with personality—classic yet cool, modern but still a bit rebellious.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and let out a slow breath.

--

Y/N's heart hammered as she watched Priestly walk toward her, his new look transforming him into a vision of the guy she’d fallen for as a teenager—familiar but grown up, rugged and effortlessly cool. She felt her old crush flare to life, burning through her like it had all those years ago. But now, she was older, and so was he, and the spark between them didn’t feel so impossible anymore.

While he’d been getting his hair cut, she’d slipped out to pick up a few finishing touches—things that would bring back a hint of the punk style they’d once shared. As he approached, she held out a heavy, silver chain and a studded leather belt. With a grin, she hooked the chain to his jeans, her fingers brushing against him as she added the belt.

But then, she pulled out something else—a small, worn leather bracelet with faded band logos, the same one he’d given her years ago in the Beach City Grill. She held it up, a little shy but determined, and carefully slipped it back onto his wrist, fingers lingering on the familiar worn leather.

Priestly looked down, his eyes widening. “You… you kept it?” His voice was soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, feeling her cheeks heat as she looked up, meeting his gaze. “Of course I did. You were... well, it was special to me.” she said almost looking nervous.

Priestly looked at her, "How old are you now?" She still looked at him, his green eyes piercing her waiting for an answer. "I- Eh... 21." Priestly looked over her in the distance, clearly counting in his head.

They stood there in silence, the air thick while she waited for his reaction, still holding his wrist in her hands, feeling something electric. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought he must be able to hear it.

But before her nerves could make her say something stupid, Priestly reached out, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair pulling her closer.

He leaned down, his gaze searching hers for a split second, and then his lips brushed against hers, soft and warm, then deeper, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as she had. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them—two people who’d found their way back to each other after years apart.

Y/N knew that what she had been waiting for ever since she was 16 was finally here. Priestly saw her, not as a teenage girl with a crush. But as a woman.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, still holding her close. "I did say 'maybe in a few years' didn't I?"

She laughed softly, feeling her heart swell.

“Welcome back, Priestly.”

--

Taglist -> Click here to add

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[swampybogg]

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King Seb :D

[yuridovewing]

As a fellow Dovewing lover, it's frustrating how the fandom watered her down into a whiny brat who never cared about Ivypool. I mean, seriously? Not only did Dovewing care about her sister (reacting in horror when Lionblaze, her own mentor and Jayfeather are willing to potentially sacrifice Ivypool's safety by employing her as her spy instead of trying to get her out of the Dark Forest's clutches, hiding a thorn in her nest to cover for her scarring from her training).

Heck, even the scene where she tries to feed Ivypool her catch during a hunting patrol was demonized because 'she was trying to make Ivypool break the code like SHE does, as if it doesn't matter' and because she got upset when Ivypool started arguing with her! But you guys said she didn't care, right? Plus, people act like being forced into a prophecy is something you should be grateful for, as if it didn't irreparably change her close relationship with her sister? As if Lionblaze and Jayfeather didn't still keep her out of the loop (and for all the fussing they made about keeping it a secret, Lionblaze confesses his power to Cinderheart and Jayfeather doesn't even care).

Meanwhile Nightheart is angry he isn't orange and hates his mom for being exiled and the whole world has to stop for him. 🤪 And Bramblestar is simply so tortured by having an evil father, the only choice is to train with him and his evil half-brother and hide this from his wife! (But remember, it's bad when that witch Squirrelflight hides the parentage of the three from him, even when Blackstar and Leopardstar were still around after being complicit in the torture and killing of halfclan cats.) Why are these male characters sympathized with, even when they actively harm people (Nightheart forcing himself into Sunbeam's life by lying to everyone about being her mate without even asking her if she would be fine with that beforehand), Bramblestar (we all know what he does), but when Dovewing or any other female character is upset, people freak out and call them whiny brats or abusive for (checks notes) asking her partner if he loves her anymore after they argued multiple times in a book. Really makes you think! (Sorry this is so long, you just have based opinions!)

dovewing being characterized as this flighty airheaded vain popular girl stereotype in fanon is like. one of those biggest "we didnt actually read the books" things in the fandom. like theres so much fanart where shes grinning and giggling over the prophecy and shes besties with the trio and shes got preferential treatment, and then in the actual books shes basically the autistic kid no one actually likes. people really, REALLY overexaggerate that one scene where she snaps at ivypaw and brags. (and i dont wanna shit on amvs but i am forever side eying how the animation community handled dove back in the day. more than one person animated her getting murdered. normal.)

i do think its gotten better recently at least. but wow does it feel like at least one person on the writing team has a bone to pick

(also awww thank you <3 no need to be sorry i love getting stuff in my inbox)

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

[reity]

i froth at the mouth sometimes because i’m not “doing enough” or “successful enough” and then i’m like . i am not even the legal drinking age yet. take it down a notch girl.

[bluebeads-art]

As the flash hits your eye, you feel something crashing into you from all directions. Below you is obvious, Bonbon situated themself to bump into you while the picture was taken. You look to your right, and Mirabelle’s cheek is pressed up to yours. On your left, Isabeau’s sheepishly hugged you to his side. There’s a hand in your hair, too, and it feels like Madame Odile. [...] “We need a souvenir of this trip,” Mirabelle adds. She rushes to the ground to pick up the picture and snort-laughs as she looks at it. “Oh no, Siffrin looks like we’re holding him hostage!” — Curtain Call, Chapter 9, by @openphrase123 (Link in the replies)

2024 October 22nd

Fanfic fanart fanfic fanart!! When I read the "hostage" line, it invoked such a clear image in my head of Siffrin tensed up like a startled prey animal that it got added to my list of things to maybe draw immediately.

Dooon't think about the words 'left' and 'right' in that quote too hard. I know how to read I prommy. :) (I did Not process those words and lost the coin flip in the composition phase...)

Close-up and ramblings about the cans of worms I unleashed upon myself under the cut

Time taken on this was [head in hands] 48 hours and 37 minutes.... That bloated number has two culprits:

1) I got a new tablet! My old one was 10 years old. Its plastic was melting and the electronics had ghosts in 'em, so it needed the sweet release of retirement. However, I had just gotten to the line art phase when the switch happened. Clumsily getting used to the new one during the most precise phase of the process did devastating things to my perfectionism.

2) I made a GRAVE mistake with how I chose to color this. I wanted to keep the grayscale layers for accuracy instead of just slapping a B&W filter over the colored version, so all the colors come from gradient maps, color balance layers, overlay layers, and raster layers clipped to other layers. Listen. I'm used to working with lots of layers. I like keeping things separate so I can edit them more easily. But this is the worst layer system I have ever created. Going from color to B&W requires toggling exactly 20 layers & folders on or off. There are 87 visible layers total. This file lags when you edit it. I've never wanted CSP v1.13 to have layer comps more in my life.

Not helping matters was Isabeau. I said he was the easiest to draw in my last post, but he took that as a challenge, apparently. It's a simple fist-on-hip pose, why was that so hard!?! His face gave me grief too.

Odile's lil' wave got added at the end of the line art phase. I've never added to a sketch that late in the game before, but I felt bad about how little screen area she got, haha. Girl, I tried, but this composition was not kind to you.

Giving Isa, Odile, and Siffrin skin colors felt cursed. Well... "color" is maybe a stretch for Sif. The pallor from being affection-jumpscared isn't helping. In the dev's nose reveal post, they said that Siffrin isn't white but is white-passing, so BOOM albinism headcanon. Like c'mon, they wear a big hat and have most of their skin covered because the sun is a deadly laser when you have little to no melanin and idk if sunblock exists in-universe. Heck, maybe most Islanders have it, their whole religion is about the night sky so maybe they're nocturnal. This makes perfect sense. :)

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!

Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!

(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)

For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.

Design talk👇

Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.

I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?

Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.

Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.

Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”

Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.

I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.

I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.

I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn

I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

[ikiprian]

Tim swears Phantom could’ve been a Titan. Maybe he should be, at this point. They have enough in common to justify it.

“Jeez,” Phantom groans. Abruptly, he drops the levitation and hits the roof without sound. He stretches out on his back like a cat, sore muscles straining in a way Red Robin deeply relates to. “Fighting the living sucks. At least with ghosts I can swing as hard as I need. Already dead means they get back up! But mortals? Way too squishy.”

Red Robin huffs in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. After a moment’s consideration, he lies down, too.“It’s a hundred times harder than people realize. Batman’s always going on about perfect control in training. About how to have it, you gotta be twice as skilled as the other guy. Even without your super-strength, I worry sometimes.”

“How do you do it?” Phantom asks. In a move only achievable to those without bones, or perhaps Dick Grayson, he twists himself over. Gloved hands cup his cheeks. His legs kick back and forth, like they’re gossiping at a slumber party. “I mean. You said you train, so obviously there’s the physical ‘how.’ But how do you keep your emotions nonlethal? How do you keep yourself in check, make sure you’re pulling back?”

“I mean,” says Red Robin. “Murder is illegal, so.”

Phantom sighs. “Yeah. Maybe it’s easier for you.”

… Hm. Maybe Red Robin should redo Phantom’s risk assessment.

Before he can raise too high an eyebrow (though even moving that muscle smarts, ow), Phantom elaborates.

“Ecto-based entities have trouble with their emotions,” he explains. “It’s easy to get lost in an Obsession, or a big feeling like grief. The rest of the world… it bleeds away. Helps to have another emotional anchor to keep it at bay. I use fear.”

“Fear?” Red Robin glanced over.

“Sometimes sheer stubbornness,” Phantom admits. “But a lot of it is fear.”

With a considering frown, he drops his head atop his arms. Exhaustion, regret, reluctance play out on his face. For someone the Bats know next to nothing about, Phantom’s body language is an open book.

“I saw, like, an alternate future version of myself once where I become evil and try to take over the world? So now I gotta be good to keep that from happening. The fear of that future keeps the pressure on me. Makes me focus up. Y’know?”

Tim sits up. “Seriously?”

Phantom nods. “Uh-huh. Kinda bizarre, I know—”

“What the hell,” says Tim. Three consecutive days together and a concussion must loosen his lips, because holy shit, no way. “Dude! Me too!”

“Huh? Seriously?” says Phantom.

“Yeah! I totally saw myself turn evil. Like, Batman but with guns. Guns Batman. I had to fight him and everything. He tried to kill my friends and erase my memory to make sure I couldn’t un-invent him by going back to change the past?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, me too!”

happy wips wednesday!

[selineram3421]

Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man is possessive/obsessive over you, hides it somewhat, very yandere coded but doesn't force you to do anything you don't like, suggestive/implied, hint at cannibalism, blood, ☺🔪 ⚠

This goes for almost all versions of the Reader. Child reader/platonic relationships excluded.

He's had his eye on you for a while now. Of course you didn't know since he always kept his composure.

You were a jewel among rocks to him.

Will do anything to make you fall in love with him. Not make but persuade.

Uses Vox as a dummy whenever he can to make himself look good.

Waits for you to approach him.

And when you do he's the happiest demon in Hell.

He likes when you wear red. Especially if you are covered in blood.

Its not yours, no. He'd never let that happen.

Literally crazy about you.

He doesn't do PDA but behind closed doors is a different story.

Alastor is a gentleman! He won't do anything unless you ask him to. Kisses, cuddles, hand holding, biting-

*cough*

Depending on what you like of course.

Only spills your blood with your permission. Fully consensual.

Likes holding you close or having you nearby. It calms him down when he's upset or too peppy.

When you are at the hotel, he likes whisking you away to his office for kisses.

Buys you jewelry, food, clothes. A lot of gifts that are in his colors. Maybe one thing you'll wear everyday with a microphone on it.

Everyone knows to STAY AWAY.

Of course Vox is an idiot and tries to woo you but fails miserably.

"You know how much I adore you my dearest.", Alastor caresses your face. "Jusqu'à la fin des temps ou jusqu'à ce qu'il n'y ait plus que nous." (Until the end of time, or until it's just us.)

Makes sure you're content and well taken care of.

Of course there are times when he does too much and you get upset.

"Alastor, please let me do this for myself.", you'll say with a pout.

"Forgive me my darling.", he kisses the top of your head. "You know I like taking care of you, but as you wish."

He shows off his demon form because he knows you like it.

Teases you about it later in your shared hotel room, until you're hiding your blushing face.

"I thought you liked my radio dial eyes?", he leans closer, purposefully turning them into radio dials. "￦as ¡ wr¤Ω&?", he asks, static more noticeable in his voice.

"D-don't!", you'll stutter and shiver, peeking through your fingers.

His smile widens and he'll continue transforming. "What's the matter my love?", he chuckles as he looms over you. "Trouble holding back?"

Falls in love all over again when you get pissed at someone.

Watches as you tear up said demon and cheers for you. "Save me a piece or two darling!"

Man worships and adores you.

No one will ever see you make the Radio Demon blush, but you don't mind. That's only for you to see.

He's yours after all.

Thank you to @the-friend-lol for making me the gif.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[inazuma-fulgur]

Feeling so bad mentally, I don't wanna go to work tomorrow

But also I need full time employment

But also the state made it possible for me to change my status to searching work but not to change my status regarding that I'm technically jobless + can't afford a flat + I have to move soon + I have no idea how I would get the financial support the state technically offers

I hate the state, why you offering services but not offering useful explanations of your services?

[catgirlwizard]

.

[verstappen-cult]

okay but why do I feel like this is just 100% max? 😭 like he’s so grrrr to everyone else but when y/n is around he’s an actual golden retriever puppy even if he tries to hide it

AAA I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS! i was actually thinking about this last night, because it has max’s name written all over it and i can picture it like—

Max is known to be a very blunt person, someone who can get frustrated pretty easily, everyone knows that. I mean, he has a reputation. But once you came into his life, a new version of Max appeared. 

He just can’t say no to you. You literally are his weakness, with your big, round eyes and pretty smile always making him feel butterflies in his belly, like a teenager with sweaty hands and an embarrassing crush. Max has even found himself stuttering more than one time. 

When you’re not around, he’s like a lost puppy. But when you are, and you look at him, is like the sky opens up making everything be just right. It’s so fucking corny and he would never, in a million years, admit something like that out loud. 

Just like right now. 

Max is angry and frustrated, deep in an argument with GP — gesturing with his hands as if his life depends on it — when you approach him. 

“Hey,” You say, unaware of what’s happening between them. 

“Hey, baby.” Max turns around, a smile plastered on his pretty face. 

GP sees Max’s face light up at seeing you. 

He turns into a completely different person from one second to the other. It’s laughable, really. 

“You know who I just saw?!” You’re almost hopping on one leg of how happy you are. He smiles, because he loves to see you happy. “Taylor Swift! Max, the Taylor Swift is here, she’s actually in Ferrari’s hospitality.”

“Did you talk to her?” Max asks you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him because why are you so far away? He needs to be touching you at all times. 

“Well, no. I wanted to but I don’t want to make a fool of myself, so, I need you to come with me.” You say, very serious. 

“Baby, I won’t go to Ferrari's hospitality. They will probably think I’m trying to steal something.” Max laughs, looking at GP very briefly only to see him holding his laughter as much as he can. 

“But, Max!” You pout, already putting your signature ‘look at this face, you can’t say no to this face’ face.

“Max, we need to finish with these papers.” His friend reminds him, but Max couldn’t care less at this moment.

“Yeah, well, just give me a couple of minutes. I’ll find you later.”

Max really, really needs to finish his talk with GP, it’s important because tomorrow’s the race and there are so many things wrong with the car, but he lets you drag him away. GP’s laugh can be heard around the paddock, people actually turn around to see what’s happening. Max just gives him the finger and follows you to Ferrari’s hospitality to meet Taylor Swift, shooting death glares at anyone who dares to look at him.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nikolai's appetite disappears over night and Price smells a rat.

cw: mention of body shaming, damaged relationship with food.

Nik loved food.

Not in the way that Johnny did, slamming an entire packet of Maryland cookies and then descending into a sugar coma, or the way that Gaz did, by seeing it as fuel to maintain a powerful and efficient body, so every macro counted. But in the way a wine taster did; there wasn't a city on earth where he couldn't steer John to the very best restaurant, be it tiny back alley taverna or sprawling five star hotel.

He loved sampling different cuisines, sourcing exotic dishes and sharing them with John (who had drawn the fucking line at sea urchin and puffer fish, because while he had never considered a rule about eating shit that could kill you in seconds, he made an ardent one in that moment). John reckoned it was a leftover from his army days when he would have had to survive on rat packs and mess food like the rest of them. He was enjoying it now he could.

So, when Nik suddenly stopped eating, it was bloody noticeable.

He'd still take John out, filling his plate and excitedly watching his face as he tried it, but he wouldn't eat himself. And if he did, it was some poxy salad or plain chicken that looked like it hadn't even glimpsed a spice rack. There were empty tupperware containers stacked in the co-pilot chair of the Black Hawk and Nik remained completely sober during a post-mission arse squeak celebration. (Where they had - in Ghost's words - bum squeaked their way through; Price wasn't sure it was technically an idiom, but he let it pass.)

"You watchin' yer figure, Nik?" Price asked finally, reclining in the wicker chair at the little café they'd stopped in. They were just outside Florence, and the tourists were just beginning to slither groggily into the sun.

"Da," Nik tapped his stomach, "I am, what do you call it, spreading?"

"You look fine t' me. More n' fine."

"I have lost some. But I still have more to do." Nik tugged at his sleeve, a self conscious gesture that John had never seen him do, and it set his teeth on edge.

"Did someone say somethin'?"

Nik swallowed and John wished he'd take those bloody aviators off so his eyes were visible. "Not recently."

"Well, this has been goin' on for months," John said, gesturing at the black coffee that comprised Nik's entire breakfast, while John had polished off the continental version of a Full English. "So out with it. Who said what?"

"I..." Nik cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. "I was not wearing a shirt on a beach in America, visiting Laswell, and a group of young women advised me to go to the gym."

"You can olympic press Ghost."

"Da."

"You can bench press over twice your own bodyweight."

"Mm, da."

"I think you go to the gym plenty."

Nik went silent. He wasn't looking at John, which meant he was embarrassed and not sure how to recover. Whatever this was, whatever had been said, he would have retaliated with his usual bolshy dismissal at the time, but up there in his Heli it would have buzzed around in his head in the quiet until it got its barbs in.

"Fer a smart bloke, you 'n' 'alf thick sometimes."

"That is what I am trying to fi--"

"Not what I meant, Nikolai." John sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard as he considered Nik's slumped shoulders. "You're good-lookin', fit, hotshot pilot with yer gold chain. This is the first time some horrid cow has said somethin' cruel, I bet."

"I might have let myself go."

"You're fifty. It's allowed," John said. "But you haven't. Yer just as built as when we first met."

"I was thirty, John. That is not possible."

"I don't think I stuttered there, but I might be wrong..."

Nik tsked at him and wrapped his arms over his chest. He tried to make it look nonchalant but it was absolutely a barrier. "I am feeling self-conscious. It will pass. I do not wish to talk about it."

"Tough shit, Nik. We're talkin' about it." John scraped his chair loudly around the table and crowded into Nik's space, leaning down with his elbows on his knees to look up into the forlorn expression on his lover's face. "If - and I mean if - I thought your health was at risk, or you were lettin' yourself go, you not think I'd get you runnin' laps with my new crop until you were fit to run missions with my team again?"

"Da, I would expect nothing less."

"Yer part of my task force, Nik. I don't accept anythin' but the best. No exceptions. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I cannot."

"And has my performance between the sheets been any less enthusiastic?"

"Nyet..."

"Right, so, engage that mensa level intelligence of yours and compute the obvious bloody conclusion."

John reached forward, continuing even when Nik tried to recoil, to run his hands beneath his shirt. Nik's belly was warm, the hair on it soft, and John wanted nothing more than to rub his damn face into it.

"I know it's gonna take time to rebuild yer confidence, Nik. Not sure yer tellin' me the whole story but whatever they said, they're wrong. Women like that, they're cruel for sport. You could look like, uh... whathisname, Chris Hemsworth, 'n' they'd still say somethin'. Gives 'em a way to cover up their own insecurity, right?"

There was a small smile of amusement and Nik's arms fell away, letting John run his hands a little higher. "I am impressed you remembered the name of an actor, captain."

"Yeah, I watched a whole film the other night..."

Nik smiled. "A whole film. Impressive."

"Cheers." John lifted his hand to cup Nik's jaw, one hand on his knee. "Still wet my knickers for you, Nik, but tell me what else I can do t' help."

"Nothing, I am... I will be fine."

"Not like you to let some bird get under your skin like that. Sure there's nothin' else?"

Nik cleared his throat, looked to the side and then finally at John's face. "You do not wish to trade me in for a newer model?"

"Jesus fuck... waiter, il conto, per favore."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the hotel room."

"Why?"

"'M gonna shag your brains out, since they're not functionin' particularly well on the inside. Up. Double time."

Nik reached for his wallet to pay but John had already slapped his credit card on the scanner by the time he looked up. He grabbed Nik's hand and dragged him down the few blocks to their hotel, where he intended to spend the rest of the afternoon making Nik feel like the hottest piece of arse on the planet.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Just a little bit where Bucky offers you a better job.

Pairing -> CEO!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Female!Reader

Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, thigh riding

A/N -> @lanabuckybarnes the better version of the Drabble I sent to you, bbg.

“Mr. Barnes, I-I wanted to ask for a bit more money for the job I do for you,” you ask, shyly while you play with your fingers in your lap. You have thought about a hundreds way to ask him for more money and now, where you’re sitting in front of him those are the only words that leave your lips without sounding completely shit.

Your boss, Bucky Barnes, CEO of one of the most powerful companies in town, sits opposite you. He has his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattooed, muscular and veiny arms to you. Your eyes flicker from his forearms to his face and back to his forearms, not sure where to look while you talk to your boss.

Bucky smirks to himself, his eyes roaming over your face and shoulders. His tongue slides across his lips and he needs to stop the groan from leaving his plump lips. He has hoped that you’re going to come to his office to give him some company and especially with a request so he could be so close to you without being weird and stare at you shamelessly.

The brown-haired man’s intense stare, causes you to shift even more, nervousness boiling inside of you. You can’t stand his gaze but you can’t not look at him either. When you’re looking into his eyes once it’s like they hold your gaze, like he could read your mind and you shiver lightly. His ocean blue eyes roam often over your body, your boss just can’t get enough of you, his sweet, little assistant.

Bucky chuckles, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. Your cheeks heat up while your eyes switch from his eyes to his pink, plump lips and back to his eyes. “Mhmmm.”

You swallow thickly, ready to apologise for that question. A soft whimper leaves your lips when Bucky’s lips twitch, turning into a soft smirk but he tries to hide it. His eyes are still on you, his blue eyes piercing into yours and his lips now curl up. “I’m sor—“

He moves his seat away from the desk, interrupting you with his actions. His eyes dark slightly, his huge hands pat on his thick, muscular thigh. “Come here, doll.”

Your eyes widen and you freeze. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift, still smirking at you. He knows that you’re not used to get that kind of instruction especially not from your boss. He waits patiently that you come over to him and take a seat on his thigh.

“Come on, pretty girl. Won’t repeat myself again,” Bucky says, his voice stern but still soft. He taps on one of his thighs once again.

You get up from the chair, slowly and with shaking legs you walk around the table. When you’re just a few inches away from him you stop, not sure about sitting in your bosses thigh.

He stares at you, holding his hands out to grasp you by your waist and pull you closer. You squeak when you’re suddenly sitting on his thick thigh, straddling him. Your legs dangle in both sides of his leg, and you feel his toned muscle pressing against your pussy.

“I have a better offer for you,” Bucky says, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “How about you’re doing as you’re told and I will make you mine, pretty girl. You can have whatever you want, I will give it to you — you just need to ask.”

He slowly moves your hips, tensing his muscle underneath you. You moan softly about the friction against your throbbing pussy, carving more of his soft touches. You let yourself fall against him, your head leaning against his shoulder while you move your hips over his thigh.

“You need to answer me, doll.” Bucky moves one of his hands to your back, his other still resting on your hips. You’re a moaning and whimpering mess on his thigh, fingers gripping into his shoulders to ground yourself.

“P—Please, wanna be yours,” you moan. Hips rutting against him and you can feel his growing bulge against your thigh. Your moans become needier and your fingers digging more into his shoulders.

“My good girl, huh?” He asks, smirking when you nod. Bucky kisses your jaw softly, you tilt your head to the side giving him more space to kiss and bite softly into your skin. He chuckles, kissing along your neck and leaving purple bruises all over your sensitive skin. “You look beautiful, marked and all mine. So pretty, my doll, fucking perfect, wonderful.”

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @bucky-barnes-lover @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing