#however weird the implications of that are

[yarrowleef]

I am actually (tentatively) intrigued by moonpaw's mind ghost. the idea of an entity that can make themselves look identical to you and appear to other cats (sometimes?) and maybe do nefarious things with your face is a fun spooky concept.

I don't know how long my intrigue will last, but it exists for the moment

[kittykatninja321]

I went “I’m not into this but let’s hear them out” on one too many omegaverse fics and now I have thoughts and opinions and headcanons and shit. Horrifying. Please be careful it could happen to you

[kooki914]

Spadesgorudy shipper has returned! (I got this idea from the incorrect quote person)

Rudy, watching Asgore and Spade from afar: Two Bros, Chillin in a hot tub. Five feet apart because they think they’re not gay, BUT THEY REALLY ARE-

-

Rudy: And now for a gay update with Asgore and Spade.

Asgore: Getting gayer.

Rudy: Thank you, Asgore.

-

Asgore: Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted.

Rudy: I’m “a couple of things”.

Spade: I’m “got distracted”.

(They actually did him-)

-

Rudy: Who do we know that has handcuffs?

Spade: Well Asgore and I-

Asgore: *elbows Spade*

Spade: ...wouldn't know.

-

Asgore: Why do you let me win when we race up the stairs? You’re the faster one.

Rudy: Erm... it’s nice see your smile when you win!

*later*

Asgore: He’s probably just staring at my ass, isn’t he?

Spade: Yeah, probably.

-

Asgore, laying between spade and Rudy: I have found the meaning of life

-

— ♠️🌸❄️

I'm sorry it took 12 billion years for me to get back to answering asks please accept my humble spadesgorudy donations

[lord-squiggletits]

Okay another instance of "fuck canon" that's not just Pharma-related, but Ambulon related. I keep thinking of Luna-1 where Ambulon called Pharma "Doctor DJD" and I feel like that's such a total "he would not fucking say that" moment. Obv JRO controls the characterization so what's in the comics is canon/right, I just think that it doesn't make sense for someone in Ambulon's position with his backstory to be that petty towards Pharma?

Ambulon's a Decepticon traitor, he's on the DJD's List. Moreover, he's stationed on Messatine which is the DJD's home planet and is (was?) still an active battle front until very recently.

Proof that Messatine being the DJD's territory is common knowledge: not only First Aid, who's stationed at Delphi, but also at least three Autobots on the Lost Light, know that the DJD make Messatine their home. And this is long before Pharma does his monologue to Ratchet about his t-cog blackmail with Tarn.

Proof that Delphi/the nucleon mines were in an active warzone at least until Pharma started his plague: Pharma wouldn't have had any t-cogs to harvest if there wasn't a continuous stream of soldiers/war-dead coming in to use as his supply.

So then, Ambulon knew fully well that he and all of the rest of them were right next to the DJD's home base, and as an ex-Decepticon he knows he would be on the list. Probably not very high on the list, since Ambulon was a mere MTO who got turned into a failed combiner experiment, but he IS on the list; just because the DJD only proceed through the list in order of importance, doesn't mean that Ambulon wouldn't know that they'd come for him eventually.

And this is a really fucking neat idea to play around with! We don't ever get a canon/explicit explanation for why Prowl decided to station those three medics on Delphi, especially one who's an ex-Con on an execution list. Did Ambulon have a choice? Or was he told to go there with no argument? Either way, I think Ambulon deserves some major kudos, because he must have ball (bearings) of steel to be an ex-Con in DJD territory without constantly being on the verge of a mental breakdown or panic attack. I could honestly write a whole post on the question of "why were these three stationed on Messatine" in itself, but that's for another time.

The point I'm trying to make here is basically that Ambulon of all people should've been sympathetic to the circumstances that drove Pharma to do what he did: they were ALL stationed in the DJD's territory and they knew it, they ALL knew that the DJD's playbook is horrific torturous murder, they ALL knew that Ambulon was a former Decepticon. It wouldn't take a genius for everyone at Delphi to piece together the fact that the DJD would come for Ambulon eventually if either he wasn't evacuated or Delphi as a whole wasn't evacuated. But I mean, this is wartime, right? Every soldier is risking their life, everyone could die at any moment. They can't close down Delphi or evacuate all of the personnel in an active war front battling over a mine just because a medic or three might feel unsafe. Nowhere in war is safe. If High Command let everyone abandon their posts who was afraid of being killed, nothing would ever get done because war comes with inherent risk of death that all soldiers accept by participating, as well as accepting the obligation to follow orders on threat of punishment. (Almost as if Pharma couldn't have just evacuated or run away like Ratchet suggested, but JRO clearly isn't a military expert so I'll digress/chalk it up to "wasn't plot relevant to bring up".)

We got all of like, two pages that showed Pharma and Ambulon's working relationship, and the best we have besides that is JRO's word of god that Pharma and Ambulon had 'mutual reluctant respect' for each other. It's highly unlikely that the two were best buddies regardless, but I don't think you need to be friends with someone like Pharma, while sharing the same situation as him, to be a little more sympathetic to him? Like I get that Ambulon would be offended by the idea of his boss trying to frame him for murder to cover up his own murders, but the "Doctor DJD" line always seemed weirdly callous and petty to me. "Doctor DJD" implies that Pharma was some sort of willing collaborator or servant to the DJD which clearly wasn't the case. And I find it hard to believe that Ambulon, who knows exactly what kind of people the DJD are, would have an opinion of Pharma that was just "oh he should've tried harder/been less of a coward and resisted." Hell, Ambulon's reaction to Sonic and Boom showing up at Delphi asking for refuge was to instantly take pity on them and offer them shelter immediately; if he feels protective/sympathetic towards literal random nobody Decepticon soldiers, shouldn't he have at least as much feeling (if not more) for another Autobot who he worked with and supposedly had respect for?

Assuming that Ambulon got the full details of Pharma's blackmail deal. I mean, there's no reason to assume that Ratchet would've lied to First Aid and Ambulon about what Pharma told him (unless??? conspiracy theory!!!!) , so Ambulon should've heard about the t-cog deal and how it was the only reason the DJD didn't raze Delphi to the ground so long ago. Then again, maybe Pharma's story got explained to him and First Aid via Ratchet's extremely judgemental take on events, so who knows how much of Pharma's side of the story Ambulon would've actually known.

But wouldn't it be so much more interesting if, instead of sneering at Pharma as "Doctor DJD", Ambulon had a more conflicted perspective of Pharma's face-heel turn? Would he wonder how it is that someone who he had such respect for could've been so despicable? Or, more sympathetically, would Ambulon ever wonder if Tarn threatening Delphi was his fault for being there? Would Ambulon wonder what he would've done in Pharma's position, being forced to bargain to postpone his own horrific execution? Would he be angry at Prowl or the higher-ups for stationing them all in such a dangerous post to begin with?

I mean, the answer is that Ambulon was a tertiary cast member at best, to the point that half of his appearances on the Lost Light literally are shown in retrospect after he died, so there would've been no room to explore this in the plot, and Ambulon and Pharma were way lower priority compared to other, more important protagonists. I just think it would be interesting to explore these questions in other metas and fan works.

And yes, I do think Ambulon would not fucking say that ("Doctor DJD") regardless of what canon actually says lmao.

[attila-werther]

instagram stop putting shitty ai fashion nonsense in my explore feed I do not have the emotional bandwidth for this, bring back the suit fetish posts immediately

[m0nsterteeth]

Not only is my therapist hella supportive of my weird ass goal in therapy to learn shapeshifting (in whatever ways are feesable but especially in dreams) and is cool with all the negative thoughts being a monster comes with (daydreaming about hurting and eating people as a monster doesn’t make me a bad person), but they are roping in a literal shaman to help me out. That’s only part of the reason why, I’m also plagued with sleep hallucinations that are distressing (these are unaffected by my antipsychotics directly as it isn’t psychosis so I’m not gonna request med changes). That is probably the more pressing matter for them but I will be sure to tie it back to my desperate need to be a monster. I need to figure out how to satisfy this need for my mental wellbeing. I want it so bad I have literally offered my soul to entities I perceive as real and evil, hell I do it completely unprompted at times. The fact that I believe it is real and do potentially dangerous things is alarming to me when awake and have my wits about me. It’s essentially like I am drunk and wandering up to random people with a weird request. Some have gently told me they can’t do that, some are rude and tell me horrible things about me and why I don’t deserve to be happy.

Part of this is being billed to my insurance company, which is funny to me, do have to pay the shaman but my therapist is so cool they are not charging me for their time even though it is over the hour limit. They are helping me out because they care/worry about me and it is very nice to feel supported.

[prismatoxic]

aaaaalright well. i've been sitting on this for a while

profic/proship people? you really, really need to stop fucking dipping into anti rhetoric to defend the things you personally like/deride the things you personally dislike

i get it, i do. fandom is so saturated with these arguments and all we want to do is say "well, THIS is the real problematic thing, actually!"

but it isn't. it never is. it's still fiction. do not fight fire with fire, i am begging you. you can call out hypocrisy without just weaponizing their shitty arguments in your favor. and for the love of god, swinging hard into dead dove territory and shunning all "wholesome"/fluffy content is not making you look better. like what you like without shitting on the other stuff. please.

basically, if you find yourself implying that something antis usually like in their fiction is morally reprehensible in some way, stop. that is not the argument to make. focus on their harassment of people who like X, not the fact that they like Y.

"soulmate AUs are so gross if you think about it! giving people no choice in who they love..."

"antis always like gore, which is so much worse than typical dead dove topics."

"coffee shop AUs just promote harassing food service workers!"

"can you believe there are south park antis when south park is such a disgusting show?"

all of the above can be said in ways that don't cast moral judgement on the topics at hand. you're just repackaging their arguments, otherwise. remember: fandom puritan discourse is about the damage antis do to real people, not how they interpret their fiction.

[citrine-elephant]

someone asks, "what's in your pants?"

✦ optional leon s kennedy responses that are probably canon compliant ✦

-back off buddy, they're mine -you want 'em off, huh? take me out to dinner first, then we'll talk. -uhhh...? i am...? -shit, where is it? shit, fuck, whERE IS IT- -some gum, why? helena, please don't tell me we're going spelunking again-

[naivety]

sorry kanej and wesper are straight couple gay couple for straight people and helnik and alina x every woman she interacts with are straight couple gay couple for gay people. to me

[roxy-saurus-rex]

I find it wild that anal sex is a more common tag for akeshu/shuake fics than goro akechi being alive.

[dreamsofanoldgod]

perfectly normal thoughts

i hope you smell i hope you smell i hope you smell

please god just enough so when we hug i can dream

or more so i can be twitchy too uwu

[drchucktingle]

how are you human?

so many interesting comments and thoughts on my post saying buds should consider not coming up to strangers in marginalized groups and saying 'how are you a real person that actually exists?'. i will point out this: despite my VERY gentle tone a few buds said i was having a 'meltdown' for even mentioning it

others said i was being too serious for someone who is ‘not a real person’. so if you would any more evidence of what it is like to be a buckaroo like myself there it is. every day, autistic folks who may seem ‘weird’ are bombarded with messages and comments and implications that they are fundamentally not human beings

sometimes it is outright and blatant like the comments on last post saying ‘well why are you getting mad? you are not even real’ and sometimes it is in the very subtle ways that folks use language when they talk to us. there is huge difference between ‘how do you exist?’ and ‘i am glad you exist.’

anyway, something that i think many people who have not lived this experience dont seem to understand is i KNOW the poster who said ‘how are you a real person that actually exists’ probably meant it as a compliment. that is THE POINT of why i am taking a moment out of my trot to gently and anonymously let them know how it might feel to be on other end of something like this as a queer or autistic or otherwise marginalized buckaroo. it is obviously not their intent to actually hurt someone, so i am letting them know

maybe because queerness and autism are not physically apparent it is hard to explain, but imagine going up to very tall or very short person and saying ‘cant BELIEVE you are real’ as a compliment. not a great way to treat others. on my original post, an indigenous author chimed in with their own experience and feelings similar to my own. a woman who said she was very tall told her story. point is, while i do not have their experience, what i am saying has a universal thread for 'othered' folks

point is: i UNDERSTAND there is this sort of exaggerated or ironic (or maybe even sometimes very literal) language around fandom to say things like ‘how are you a human?’ to creators, but since it is not your intent to hurt, i think you might want to know how that feels to marginalized buckaroos sometimes.

obviously you can say anything you want. i do not hold it against you. also, if you think ‘oh no, did i say something like this to chuck at a convention? i am so embarrassed' then DO NOT WORRY i promise you buckaroo you are just fine. i present myself in a way that is unusual by definition, so i have pretty thick skin about this type of thing and a lot of patience. MANY buds start off thinking i am ‘a joke’ and then become fans over time and i am glad to trot beside them and prove love is real.

however there are other autistic or queer or marginalized buckaroos with smaller platforms who hear this just as much as me, so i think it is important to say it loudly and maybe together we can work on making a very slight shift in the way we speak to the ‘others’ in our lives

we do not NEED to let subtle dehumanization slip into our language. in some cases it has been called ‘micro aggressions’ but i think buds dont often consider what that means for COMPLIMENTS. ultimately, telling marginalized people YOU ARE SO AMAZING YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY EXIST may seem very fun and silly on the surface and for some folks it probably feels that way, but for others it can feel like a reminder of the broader doubt about their humanity. you can just say ‘YOU ARE AMAZING’ without the reminder of the many times autistic or queer or marginalized folks are told in a very serious and pointed way (like comments on the last post) ‘YOU ARE SO WEIRD THAT I HAVE DECIDED YOU ARE NOT REAL’

buckaroos can take this information and apply it to their interactions, or they can ignore it, that is totally fine. we are all trotting our own trots and proving love in our own way and thats okay bud, HOWEVER i feel like it is important to at least let folks know, even if that means getting told i am having a ‘meltdown’. i think it is important to have complex or difficult conversations if it will prove a little more love in the long run. THANK YOU FOR READING BUCKAROOS. i am honored to trot forward with you can tackle this kind of thing with you, and honored you buckaroos have created such an amazing space with me to pull apart these kind of feelings. THIS IS PROOF THAT LOVE IS REAL LETS TROT

[thelaughingmerman]

I have so many conflicted feelings about disenchantm3nt finale...

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

tag list (open, ask to be added) ;

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs s @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things s @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi @snailpebbles @fandomly-obsessed @kitkatkitmeow @the-holy-pigeon @sheep-from-rad @mei-simp

[saltinesinsoup]

LOL. LOL. LOL.

[goldfades]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ─ PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Okay the fic Idea I was talking about is, Paige scrolling through your phone gallery and seeing the pics you didn’t send her. “Why didn’t you send me this?” and even sending herself some of the photos to her own phone. BUT then, Ms.reader over here didn’t private certain…. provocative and Lewd photos and forgot about them and Paige sees them (her gf just likes taking pictures of her own body🤷🏽 cuz why not)." for my lovely hamster nonnie

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. very fluffy and cute, nothing too rough just some good ol' love making. oral (r receiving), praise, nothing else?? enjoy!!!!

─ ev's notes | ok so this also can be read as a standalone buttt this is part of my uconn wbb manager series!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

YOU WERE SITTING on your girlfriend's bed, glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you tried to finish up some homework.

Paige had your phone in her hand as she scrolled through your camera roll, looking through all the photos you two had taken together over the past few months. Every now and then, she would let out a soft chuckle or an aww as she stumbled upon a particularly sweet or funny photo. You glanced up from your homework every so often, smiling at her reactions.

"Why didn't you send me this?" Paige asked, showing you a selfie of yourself after the gym yesterday. "You looked sexy, wow."

You chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed but also pleased by her compliment. "I don't know, I guess I forgot to send it," you replied, reaching out to take a closer look at the photo.

Paige laughed, leaning into you as she continued to scroll through the photos. "I'm sending it to myself, that's my new lockscreen."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled, turning your attention back to your homework. A few seconds later however, you somehow sensed a shift in the atmosphere as you glanced to see what Paige was looking at, only to be faced with a very incriminating photo of yourself wearing practically nothing.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly reached out to grab the phone from her hand, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and panic only for her to pull the phone out of your grasp. "I forgot to delete that, sorry-"

"Delete it? Why didn't you send it to me?" Her tone was unusually serious as she glanced up to meet your gaze. "Shit, I mean that was hot."

You wanted to laugh, if this were any situation you'd want to laugh. However, as you met her now very clouded gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in confusion and maybe something... more?

This wasn't the reaction you expected. You were prepared for embarrassment, maybe even some teasing, but not this. Paige's eyes held a seriousness that seemed out of place in the moment.

"Wait, really?" you stammered, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I thought you'd find it weird or something."

Paige leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips as she studied your reaction. "Weird? No, of course not baby. You look pretty damn good," she took another moment to study the picture as she wet her lips.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at Paige's words, her unexpected compliment sending a thrill down your spine. "You think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure whether to feel flattered or apprehensive about her sudden change in tone.

Paige's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know so," she replied, her gaze lingering on the photo before finally meeting yours. "In fact, I think you're hiding a lot more than just this one picture."

Your cheeks flushed even hotter at the implication of her words. You had never imagined Paige seeing you in such a revealing light, let alone expressing such bold admiration. She'd always teased you, you'd been in this relationship (of some sorts) for long enough for this to be normal.

Somehow, this time it felt more personal.

"You really want to see more?" you asked, your voice betraying a mix of nerves and excitement.

"Don't act so shy now, princess. I mean you took these photos and kept them to yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing," Paige teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned in closer, her breath grazing your ear.

Her playful tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you. Despite your initial hesitations, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the prospect of sharing more with Paige.

Before you could even process it, her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You let out a soft moan in surprise but slowly melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. As her hands roamed over your body, you felt a rush of desire coursing through your veins, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of her touch.

Your homework and laptop were long forgotten as she pulled you into her lap. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating touch.

"Paige, please," you whined as she hummed in response. You began to grind yourself against her sweats, your whole body shaking in pure need.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she met your gaze. "Yes, princess? Please what?" she teased, her voice husky with need.

"I want you," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. All you knew was that you needed her to absolutely ruin you.

With a hungry smirk, Paige captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. Suddenly, she pushed you back against the bed as you whimpered with need.

Paige found herself in between your legs as she pulled off your silk pajama shorts and then your underwear. You moaned at the sight, your head falling back as she pulled your legs on her shoulders and quickly got to work.

As soon as her tongue met your wet folds, you were already ruined. You moaned at the sensation as your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. Paige kept gripped your thighs as her tongue delved into your cunt, your whole body seizing up in utter pleasure.

"Fuck," she mumbled into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. You finally met her gaze as you moaned, her hand finding yours, interlacing your fingers with hers.

Paige took her time, slowly licking up and down you as if you were most delicate thing in the world (and you were ─ at least, in her world).

You arched into her mouth as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to an orgasm, your eyes shutting once again. Paige's tongue began to flick against your clit as you let out a shocked moan, your other hand finding her hair.

"Please, please don't stop. Fuck, P," you babbled on as her tongue began moving faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum, please,"

"Cum on my tongue, princess, let it out," she murmured into your pussy as the knot in your stomach snapped. "Good girl, fuck,"

Paige watched you hungrily as you moaned, your legs wrapped around her head as you came. She closed her eyes as she helped you ride out your high, her hands gripping your hips as you caught your breath.

Paige got out from between your legs and pulled you into a bruising kiss. Your hands found her hair in a lazy attempt to keep her close, your lips moving in sync with hers as the intensity of the kiss deepened. The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that pulsed between you.

"Mm, I love you," you mumbled into the kiss as she let out a small laugh. She pulled away to really take in your fucked-out state; your messy hair, your half-lidded eyes, your bruised lips. God, she was so whipped.

"I love you too, sweet girl," Paige whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she caressed your cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡