#but as much as i want to picture this bright and beautiful future where we can comprehend more and continue to find things that we can't

[randomaj]

i think I'm just emotional tonight, but as I was staring into the night, I was just struck by how big everything is.

I can't visit all of the places in the world, not truly, not to the extent I want to. Neither can I consume all of the information there is, it's impossible. I'm just struck by how beautifully unfathomable everything is.

And that's just on earth. To think that there's the possibly that there other inhabited worlds out there, with their own unfathomable cultures. And even if there isn't! Just everything.

There's so much to learn and see, that I can't even imagine or comprehend. I am so small and insignificant and yet everything is so beautiful.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Please can we have more Yan justice league?

Maybe the reader has a boyfriend in the military so she doesn't see him much and when he comes back to visit, the go on a fancy date before they crash it?

It would make it even better if they reacted to the boyfriend about to propose to her!

A Day in Life: Heartbreaks

Synopsis: A day in your life where your yanderes find a secret of yours and tell you another one.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Modern!40s!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Tw: Bucky you’re one of my fav characters from Marvel, I'm so sorry I did u dirty😭; Heavy mentions of cheating and NO forgiving; Stalking; English isn’t my 1st language.

Word count: 1k

Requested? Duh.

Extra notes: I should be studying instead of writing this. Also omg I got so many requests in just a few hours, thank you very much!! I'm writing them all!!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Since most of your days became filled with stress and anxiety, you started appreciating even more moments where you could just forget all your problems, from small ones — like, lack of motivation to go to the gym, bad hair days and an ingredient you forgot at your fridge and became rotten—, and big, out of your control ones — like seven superheroes, who you see almost everyday, stalking you.

Your boyfriend getting back was one of the best dic(k)strations.

Bucky was a sergeant, he spent weeks, even months, away from you on missions. It was hard, but you were both busy people, so your mind was usually too stimulated to think about boy problems only all day, most adults were, and you believed the hard work would be worth it one day. The future was hopefully bright.

The League never mentioned him. Actually, some of them implied more than once that they thought you were available, so they probably didn't know about your relationship. You didn't use much social media and your boyfriend got especially busy this year, so it made sense.

He paid for you to get your nails done earlier and took you to a nice restaurant. After that, Bucky took you for a walk around the city, lively and beautiful even at night, and stopped at the park where your first date happened. Everything was fine, until he got on his knees. Suddenly, seven, mostly colorful, figures descended upon you from out of nowhere, screaming.

— (Y/N)! YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM! — Flash’s voice startled you, confirming your suspicions to who the group was.

You growled.

— SERIOUSLY? LEAVE ME ALONE! IT'S MY DAY OFF! — Bucky, who had swiftly gotten up with his fast reflexes as soon as the heroes charged, blinked at the sight. He looked between you all.

— Doll? What’s this? — You looked apologetic at him.

— Sorry, Bucky. Since I got my job, my bosses got… Protective over me… — You didn't want him to get hurt. Bucky and his friends had a great sense of justice and hated bullies. He would surely want to do something if he knew the true extent of things. You also didn't want to ruin the vision he had of his idols.

Since their obsessive behavior started, you just counted your lucky stars that they would just get tired of you one day or wouldn't sabotage your relationships. They seemed fine with you having friends, but dating was different.

You turned to the League.

— Go! — They shook their heads.

— You can't trust this bastard, darling. We have proof of his betrayal to you. — You looked at Wonder Woman skeptically and crossed your arms. Bucky gulped.

— Oh, really? How so? — You raised an eyebrow.

Batman fiddled with his wrist computer, a second later, a protection was shown and different pictures and videos of your man talking and being very intimate with someone very familiar to you appeared. Your stomach churned and your heart ached.

— This is fake! Doll, you have to believe me! — Bucky cried out and got in front of you, holding your shoulders, trying to cover your vision from the images. You took a step back and kept looking at the images.

The League had more than enough means necessary to fake all of this, but you knew Natasha was Bucky’s ex, and they were still friends and coworkers, even with their intense heartbreak. You sometimes got insecure and worried since they spent so much time together, but he always told you you had nothing to worry about…

You gulped.

The League was all glaring at his back while he shouted a hundred words per minute, desperately trying to convince you he was telling the truth.

Superman growled and walked forward until he grabbed Bucky by his shoulders and pulled him away from you.

— Stay away from them, you asshole. (Y/N), I would never do that to you. — You ignored Green Lantern's words, like you were doing since the pacifier incident. You knew he was getting desperate and that made you specially scared, but at least he gave you some distance.

— Not now. — Batman took a step forward. — A few hours ago, we discovered your relationship. For security reasons, we searched, and found these pictures and conversations from his second social accounts, that he uses to commit his cheating.

— He didn't try to hide much, he thought he wouldn't get caught. — Flash stated.

— I-I need more proof… These could be old… — Your first words spoken made Bucky shut up. Mind scrambling for something.

— Let the Lasso of Truth speak for him. — In a second, the Lasso was thrown around Bucky's torso and he was squirming. — Speak, you worthless mortal! — Wonder Woman ordered.

Bucky was able to struggle for a few seconds, before he blurted out.

— It's truth! It's truth! I told her we broke up and started dating her again! I thought I could have you both at the same time!

You gasped. Your hand shot to your chest.

Flash was on your side in a second, trying to hug and comfort you, but you pushed him away. You started crying from heartbreak and anger.

— HOW COULD YOU?! — You glared at him and pointed at his face.

— Doll… I swear I love you both. But I'm also narcissistic, insecure and look down on women. — The Lasso was really doing its job. You laughed humorlessly.

You had nothing to say anymore. No reason to stay. You took advantage of his tied arms and got close, punched his nose, and stomped away.

The League contemplated going after you and trying to bring you comfort, but Batman and Martian Manhunter decided to just let Bucky go (after intimidating him so as to not get close to you again) and follow you discreetly, watching you from the shadows, intervening only if necessary.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

Taglist:

@wandalfnation

[tarotwithavi]

Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse

18+ messages in some piles

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

These pictures belong to their rightful owners.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"

"I love the way you walk"

"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"

"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"

"I want to worship every part of your body"

"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"

"In your arms, I have found my home."

"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"

"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"

"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"

"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"

"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"

"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"

"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"

Pile 2

"You think you can run away from me love?"

"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."

"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"

"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"

"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"

"Your presence lights up my darkest night"

"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"

"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"

"You look so f-able in my hoodie"

"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"

"I will never force my beliefs on you"

"You look magical in that dress"

"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"

"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"

Pile 3

"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"

"Some things are better as secrets"

"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"

"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.

"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"

"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"

"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?

"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"

"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"

"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"

"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.

"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"

Pile 4

"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"

"To be honest I will let you step on me"

"Our future is so bright together mama"

"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."

"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"

"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"

"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"

"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"

"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"

"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"

"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"

[guksfairy]

BITTERSWEET MISTAKE / JJK

ꨄword count: 1.3k

ꨄsong: Not Allowed

ꨄnotes: …just angst honestly…this had been in my drafts for a while and I simply forgot about it :3 enjoy ! 💗

Your eyes are the first thing that catches Jungkook’s attention. He always told you how much he loved and adored your eyes more than anything. He was always able to read them quicker and clearer than anyone. He remembers when you were both in college and you’d get trapped into talking with people you didn’t like. With a simple look to Jungkook he knew to make up an excuse to get you away from the person as soon as possible. He always thought that was endearing. He was your safe space and hero.

Now, your eyes hold tears but they don’t fall. They’re not sad tears, you’re simply feeling emotional. He would know. Jungkook’s eyes begin to scan the rest of your face. Your mouth is bright and beautiful showing Jungkook’s favorite smile. He loved making you smile and laugh. You’d always laugh at his jokes, even though he himself knew that they sucked and wouldn’t even make a yes man laugh, but you did. You adored Jungkook. His jokes always made you giggle and smile.

Scanning lower he sees a necklace. On your first day of the last year of high school Jungkook gave you a promise ring, which you kept on a chain around your neck too afraid to lose it. This year would be the most difficult and stress filled compared to the rest. So the day before school started, and after his shift at the ice cream parlor was over, Jungkook ran over to the jewelry store in the plaza and picked up the custom ring he made you. Made to fit you and your style. He went for something small but enough to show you how much thought he put into this. Engraved on the inside with his and your name as well as the date he gave you the ring. The next day presenting it to you with a bouquet of flowers made from paper that he spent the entire past night making.

“Flowers that’ll never die, like my love and adoration for you,” he would tell you, and you kissed him while telling him how much you loved him and held them against your body.

Much like right now. Your bouquet of white and pastel pink flowers lay against your beautiful ivory shaded wedding dress. Your dad to your side holding back tears that were fighting to fall down his face at the thought of giving his baby girl away.

Jungkook knows the feeling very well. He’s feeling it right now, because when you begin walking down the aisle, smiling at your friends and family, you face forward and continue your path to your future husband. Cha Eunwoo. Walking entirely past Jungkook and his plus one, Jimin. He couldn’t come alone. He wouldn’t be able to hold back. He’d stop you midway and beg you to take him back. That it was all a mistake and to simply hold you or love you one last time would fix everything in him. He didn’t want to come. In fact he had thrown away your wedding invitation that was printed with a picture of you and Eunwoo in a flower field looking like the most elegant people of South Korea.

Until you called him personally, “It would really mean a lot, Jungkook. You were a great part of my life and basically my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were 4,” he could never say no to you. You’d tell him it was one of his greatest weaknesses, he would argue that it was his greatest strength, but now he’s starting to agree with you.

So he got in the car with Jimin the following week and drove to Gangnam where he knew he would only ever feel heartbreak.

Eunwoo’s eyes crinkle with a smile as you finally reach him and your dad jokingly raised two fingers to his eyes and then pointed them to him as if to say ‘I’m watching you’ jokingly. Jungkook and your dad always got along. Your father used to be a musician so he’d bond with him over that. Now Eunwoo is the one who sits in your family home and wins over your siblings and mom every time he plays a song on his guitar.

Before the ceremony can even begin, as Eunwoo’s friend tease him about being the first to get married in their group, Jungkook walks away followed by Jimin. He doesn’t know the layout of this venue but he just can’t be there. He can’t watch you get married to, and love, another man. When Jungkook was 16 and finally got the courage to ask you out, in which you said yes and he was over the moon, he swore to himself that you would be the only one he could envision as his wife. His life partner and the person he wanted to grow old with was you. It never changed. It didn’t change when you both had your first real argument in which he forgot your birthday and instead went to hangout with his friends and you told him you hated him and never wanted to see him again. It didn’t change when you two entered college and there were hundreds of different girls throwing themselves at Jungkook knowing full well he was taken.

It definitely did not change the night he told you he would be taking a job in the states for 2 years under contract and he doesn’t think long distance would be good for either of you. He let you cry into his shoulder that night but promised himself he would try everything to win you back even if you were in a relationship. He didn’t realize he would enjoy working at the company so much that 2 years doubled and quickly turned into 4. With minimal contact between the two of you, Jungkook was more than ecstatic to be back in Korea when the company opened a branch in Seoul. Though nothing could prepare him for the first time seeing you in four years.

A guy’s hands interlocked with your left hand that was now adorned with a shiny ring. He tried to run away so you wouldn’t spot him but it was too late once your face lit up and yelled his name. Dragging Eunwoo to meet Jungkook.

“This is my fiancé, Cha Eunwoo,” you had told him. He swore he couldn’t breathe but tried to keep his composure. Putting on his best smile and shaking his hand. The second you left after telling him how happy you were he was back in Korea, Jungkook ran to the nearest location where he didn’t see many people and let it all out. He had heard of people dying of a broken heart and he swore in that moment that it would be the cause of his death. You looked happier. Your beauty never leaving and in fact your looked even more gorgeous than the last time he saw you. More mature and put together.

He couldn’t hurt you once more with trying to win you back. That day Jungkook broke his own promise to himself and watched from afar. Now standing in front of the venue as the sun shined bright for your special day, Jungkook let it out once more. Falling to the ground Jungkook cried like a kid being hurt for the first time. Jimin’s attempt at comforting him wasn’t helping. His breathing became uneven. This was his fault. Had he came back sooner maybe he could have still had you.

No matter what, you will always be in Jungkook’s heart and mind. He just hoped he was still in yours.

You don’t know how long I could stare into your picture

And wish that it was me

I guess it’s different ‘cause you love him

[bloggingboutburgers]

Hey, allo anon with an ace partner here. I wanted to say thank you so much for the well wishes! I figured I would send this in here again, so anyone else who is curious about what this experience looks like from the other side can see it.

My girlfriend came out to me a little over 2 years into our relationship. At the time it surprised me a lot, because she'd never given me any signs that she wasn't enjoying what we were doing. After we talked more I understood that she wasn't repulsed by sex and she didn't hate it, but she didn't really love it either and wanted to stop doing it for a while (so a sex-neutral ace).

Honestly, at the time, I did get anxious about it. Not just because of social conventions, but because I had viewed sex as an important bonding part of our relationship. I don't do well with change, and I was super worried about how a lack of sex would change our dynamic. I also had some insecurities about my own body, and my girlfriend admitting that she didn't see me as sexy was upsetting. But after speaking to my therapist, I realized that I was projecting my own issues on to the relationship. So I spoke with her again, and she reassured me that she wanted to be with me, and that she was confiding these feelings because she trusted me. She likes how I look, she just doesn't have the same sexual impulses I do.

So, I realized this was pretty much like cuddling. I love physical touch a lot, and I want to cuddle for a much longer time than she does. I like it when someone lies on top of me. She doesn't want me on top of her chest during cuddling. She still cuddles with me, but she tells me when she's satisfied, and we stop.

A few months went by, and I noticed that she wasn't spending any less time with me; she was actually spending more. We would still call every evening when we didn't meet up in person, we would still joke around, and she still told me she loved me and did everything she could to show it to me. We also began trying out new stuff together, and playing games and watching stuff more often. We also still had plenty of physical intimacy with things like cuddling and kissing, which made me really happy.

I realized that I didn't feel like anything was missing from the relationship. I just needed her to show and tell me she loved me in the ways she normally did. Sure, I am still attracted to her that way, but it wasn't something that would make or break the relationship.

It's been years since she came out, and at this point, I never expect anything sexual. It happens rarely, and I always check in with her multiple times before and during. We stop at any point she tells me. There are quite a few hard boundaries about what is and isn't off limits, and I always keep them in mind. I would rather satisfy myself forever than make her uncomfortable, and she knows it.

It's been over 5 years and we are still going strong. I am hoping to ask her to marry me in the next few years, because honestly, I can't picture wanting anyone else by my side. She is kind, funny, beautiful, intelligent, and treats me well. I could never ask for anything more from a partner.

Thank you SO MUCH for sharing. I myself definitely lack knowledge of what it feels like from an allo's perspective, so this was very educational for me, but beyond that... You have no idea how much hope this gives me.

From you being aware of how much sex meant to you in the context of your relationship and still being fine without it, to just... Heck, even your therapist for not blaming her for the situation. Therapy is still very much, in my country at least, an area where the absence or lower levels of sexual attraction will be hastily labelled as something wrong physically or mentally, so... Yeah, the amount of relief I felt reading that, you have no idea. And I can only imagine how much your partner appreciates it too.

Honestly I teared up a bit reading this - I sincerely wish you guys all the best and I hope you have a bright future ahead! (Also fun fact, seems you guys have been together as long as my partner and I have, it's nice to be able to relate to that too hehe^^)

[b00tyliciousbabe]

hey i don’t know if you’re taking requests but if so can you write a bottom male reader x himbo Jordan Riki where they’re fucking at home after the game and Jordan is horny as fuck and wants to celebrate the win?

thank you so much :)

THIS EATS SO HARD! omds i love this. and of course, imma try my best to write. ENJOY!

update: my apologies to whoever sent me this request, life’s just been lifin’ - STREAM SUBMISSIVE BY DESTIN CONRAD!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙

trophy

jordan riki x male reader

summary: for jord’ you’re the only prize worth playing for.

notes: AHHH! my first request. lowkey kinda exciting, but i went way off on a tangent. nonetheless…still spicy xx

song rec: ‘lite’ by downtown kayoto

a few minutes passed as you admiringly watched him pop champagne for the celebratory pictures. ‘Y/N!’ a young woman screamed. you turned back to see it was sienna, who was going out, with jordan’s best friend, jock. ‘omds! i ain’t seen you in forever, how’ve you been?’ hugging her, you match the excitable energy her smile expressed. it was so nice having someone who understood the pressure of being with a sportsman and how demanding it was. the championship was being held in scotland and thus, the NRL had paid for the entire team to stay in the most beautiful hotel. on the walk back, you and sienna spoke about your plans for the future, mostly on the topic of marriage. ‘i hear congratulations are in order, i am so happy for you and jock!’ you smile at her ‘took him long enough,’ sienna joked as she flashed the engagement ring. ‘i cannot wait, plus as my man of honour, we need to start prepping real soon.’ she says going into bridezilla mode already. ‘trust it’s gonna be the best day ever.’ you sigh stopping in your tracks, ‘what’s wrong, Y/N?’ sienna expresses concern. ‘I’ve just been thinking a lot about how my relationship with jordan,’ you start to tear. ‘sometimes i feel like he will only ever see me as his teenage crush, and not something more.’ you finally admitted and it was like a weight off of your chest. ‘Y/N, i completely understand, but jordan is obsessed with you, he’s always telling me and jock about how he’s just waiting for the right time to pop the question.’ her words were so comforting, and left you with a calming sentiment.

you made your way up to the hotel room, and as you opened the door, you were greeted with roses on the floor. you looked up to see the chiselled figure of your man lying naked on the bed and shimmering in the moonlight. ‘jordan, what is all this?’ you asked, stunned by his grand gesture. ‘i couldn’t celebrate knowing that i left my boy on his own’ he got up and began to undress you. towering above you, he lifted your chin to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. you’d never seen him like this before, dominant with his touch and so submissive with his heart. you pulled off your baggy jeans with one swift move, as you knelt down wearing a vest and boxers.

‘such an eager slut aren’t you,’ he spits into your mouth as you look up at him with bright eyes. ‘careful now,’ you whispered, teasing the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue ‘i don’t have to suck you off.’ to which jordan snickered at your attempt to manipulate. without warning he shoved his dick inside your mouth. ‘ahhh,’ he breathed ‘much better.’ your lips felt so warm around him and he always appreciated how you were always there to use as his own. he began thrusting deeply, as the percussion of his balls slapping your chin made a beautiful symphony of pleasure alongside your gagging and slobbering on his rod. ‘fuck you look so pretty.’ He groaned ‘I could marry you rn.’ a request he subconsciously muttered under his breath. this sentiment was not lost on you and you stopped to deepthroat him fully, suctioning at the this base of his large dick. ‘SHIIIIIIIIIIIT.’ he grunted, holding your curls in adoration. jordan pulled you off him as you giggled with pride watching how he was entranced by the slick you painted on his pole.

you rise onto your feet, staring up into his eyes. wrapping your arms around his broad neck as he placed light spanks on your ass, kneading your dough with his big, coarse hands. jordan invaded your mouth, using his tongue to fast himself on your lips. his fingers spread your thick cheeks apart as he circled around your taint. ‘jump baby.’ he said deeply as his passion overcame him. you obliged as he placed you lovingly on your back, the bed of rose petals adorned your skin, making this erotic painting all the more romantic. your bf climbed onto you and raised your legs above your head. like a jigsaw, you molded them to fit onto his shoulders, with jordan’s piece knocking at your entrance. your pussy lips puckered at the prospect of getting wrecked, making it easy for him to slip in. ‘jord…’ you moan at how full you felt, signalling to him that he needed to go slowly. ‘easy baby, let me know if it’s too much.’ he reassures, adjusting himself inside you slipping in the last couple of inches. ‘I’m all in now love, I’m gonna go faster okay?’ He kisses your neck as you stroke his biceps.

he bowed his head into the crook of your neck, rutting into you viciously as you cradled his head. ‘fuck babe, fuuuck.’ you both scream ‘marry me…’ he mutters again, you clearly heard it this time. he continues pounding your pussy as his breathing gets deeper. ‘marry me already…’ slipped out as he moaned in ecstasy. ‘fuck yes, I’ll marry you babe,’ you matched his energy as he stopped in his tracks. he stared at you like a lost puppy. ‘shitttt, it wasn’t meant to be like this, i had a whole thing planned afterwards, we were gonna go on a walk, i was gonna go down on one knee and-‘ you cut your man off with a kiss that reminded you of the early days of your relationship. ‘I love you jordan, it doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing, but i will never stop loving you.’ he started tearing up. ‘Y/N how am i the one crying when it’s you that ain’t gonna be walking for the next week?’ he joked to lighten up the mood. ‘aw babe,’ you whined, kissing him once more ‘if it makes you feel better, i can erase what you said from my memory?’ he smiled into yet another tongue dance ‘nah, don’t even worry about it sweetheart, imma fuck u so dumb you don’t even be able to remember your name.’ he threatened, pressing on your abdomen to feel how deep he was inside of you. his dick twitched as your slick hole was doing so well cockwarming him.

by the end of the night, he had dumped his load into 4 times, and while you laid on his chest, he couldn’t stop thinking about his win. not just the game or player of the season, but how he had won your heart. so while you were asleep , somehow so tired to the point you’d completely forgotten his proposal, he looked up at the ceiling and dreamt about your wedding.

@gayaristocrat dacre is up next ml <3 what typa scenario are we thinking?

[hibiscuswrites]

If you have the time, could I please request a HC/would include of Ray accidentally dialing the wrong number and it ends up being his future SO? Like maybe he’s in jail and they start talking by accident and it’s a super slow process but they begin to trust each other and end up meeting/falling in love? 🌺

This idea fucked. me. up.

He was just trying to call his boy

Blow off some steam

Shoot the shit before his time ran out and he had to go back to his cell

He was scratching at the paint on the phone while he waited, hearing the line click and expecting to hear the deep voice of his friend

But instead its a much softer voice

One he's never heard before

"Hello?"

And his brows knit because who the fuck is this?

He doesn't have to wonder long though

"Uh, hi. Ray was it? Yeah uh, you have the wrong number. Sorry. I didn't want to hang up before the call connected so you wouldn't waste your time calling again and again. Not sure who you're trying to reach but...this isn't them."

Your laugh is awkward yet...endearing

Soft and light

Such a contrast to what he hears in here

Not to mention, he hasn't had a woman laugh in his ear in quite some time

Even if it's through this shitty phone

He chuckles himself and leans against the wall

"Yeah, I guess not. Tony could never sound so beautiful."

You laugh again and Ray smiles on instinct at the sound

Shocked that you haven't hung up yet

You knew he was an inmate

The collect call always tells you ahead of time

So that meant you stayed on the call and accepted anyway

Just like you said, so he wouldn't waste his call time

And the thought is so selfless that he doesn't wanna hang up

He expects you to though

So he lies

"Well, they don't really let us call another number once we dial. We only get the five minutes with one number. If they don't pick up or we get cut off, tough shit. So maybe we could talk for the next...four minutes and 20 seconds?"

It's a shot in the dark and he's 100% expecting the line to click

"Oh, well...ok. Not sure what you want to talk about, stranger."

You laugh again and so does he

"What's your name?"

The silence stretches for a bit and Ray winces, feeling like he fucked it up

"Nevermind, it's all good. I'll call you Sunshine, since that's how your voice sounds."

He knows it is ridiculous

Spitting game to a girl he doesn't know and will never speak to again, but it's enough to pass the time

Your laugh is sweet like honey when it passes through the receiver and even though he has no idea what you look like, he can almost see you roll your eyes

"Smooth talker, I see."

"I try."

The rest of the call goes by the same, him flirting gently and you laughing until the automated voice signals that the call is going to end in 30 seconds

And against his better judgment, he calls again the next day

And you pick up again

The days pass like that, his light flirting and you entertaining him

He asks what you ate today and you tell him in elaborate detail to where he can almost taste it

Asks what the weather is like and your words are so vivid, it paints the picture for him to where he feels like he can see through your eyes

He longs and yearns for your voice and talks

Soon enough, you've been talking every day, him getting your name and stopping with the flirting once he realizes that he's actually into you

And the days turn into weeks

Weeks into months

You send him a picture of yourself, praying that doing so isn't a mistake

And he sends you one back of himself

You write letters to each other

Video calls when he can

He has another inmate paint a portrait of you and sends it as a gift

And before either of you realize, his release date is coming up

He extends the offer to see if you'd be willing to meet him, and even though he wants to, he wouldn't be hurt or offended if you refused

Proud and understanding of your apprehension

So he offers to meet in a crowded public place if you're willing and you are

Both of you sporting each other under the bright sun in the local farmers market

Your eyes brighter than he ever could've imagined

Your smile enough to make his heart feel like a puddle of warm butter

He stands before you and stuffs his hands into his pockets, itching to touch you but not daring to

"Hi, Sunshine."

And the twinkle in your eye as you gaze at him is enough to convince him that punching the number in wrong that day was the best mistake he's ever made

"Hi, Stranger."

General taglist

@titty-teetee   @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

Ray Merrimen taglist @effie365

[fairyycoffin]

🦊🌻🌹🥀 :DD

(If this is too much you can absolutely skip one or two of them if u want)

🦊

you remind me of winter: early frost, salt on pavement, black coffee, midnight, dense silence, bonfires, stardust, cold hands, the cry of a barn owl, seeking warmth and finding it.

🌹

the villain choosing their own death sentence.

🥀

i used the minor arcana deck for this :)

card one: knight of cups

this card represents your heart energy, or your inner self. the knight of cups is calm and regal; his gifts are creativity and intuition. he may enter your life as a fellow creative, whose prescence will help to add a sense of accomplishment and pride in your own projects. 

card two: two of swords

the second card represents your present energy. what you’re feeling in the now. perhaps you are struggling to make a significant decision because you are unable to see the whole picture. or maybe you’re feeling lost and uncertain, afraid of making a mistake. take a deep breath and search for the truth. it’s waiting for you where you least expect it. 

card three: page of cups 

this represents the energy either helping you or holding you back. the page of cups reminds you to stay open minded and reconnect with your inner child. we can find ourselves drowning in repetitiveness and forgetting to look for joy. do something for yourself today, no matter how small. 

card four: five of cups

representing your hopes and fears, the five of cups tells a story of loss and despair. maybe you’re afraid of feeling empty. or maybe you hope to feel some sense of peace. replace those feelings of scarcity with positivity. it’s okay to be sad but it’s also important to focus on the beauty that hides around every corner. 

card five: three of swords

the fifth card is what grounds you. for too long, you’ve sat in the things that make you sad. let them go. the past is heavy and you don’t need to hold on to it anymore. the three of swords asks you to take steps to heal both your heart and your soul. without pain, how can we expect to understand happiness? 

card six: ace of swords

this card represents a lesson from the past. the ace of swords brings forth raw energy, a time of problem solving and passion, replacing any moments in the past where you found you had a lack of vision when working on a project. channel this energy and let your creativity burn bright. 

card seven: king of pentacles 

this card tells you of external openings. the king of pentacles has earned himself a life of riches, both metaphorical and physical. you have a kind heart, and letting it show around others provides you with an abundant life. however, don’t let your wonderful qualities cloud your vision. 

card eight: queen of wands 

the final card predicts a possible future. you are powerful and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. you will take control of the things that matter to you, with your quick wits and creativity. let your confidence grow. you are fearless, so use that to learn something new every day. 

[elena-mayfair]

Choices that shape the future

Paring: Bruce Wayne x f!reader, Batman x f!reader Genre: Thriller, mystery, with elements of slow-burn romance Warnings: rating T+/M, strong language, themes of depression, depictions of mental illness Summary: You tried to conceal your excitement, but your heart was pounding in your chest like crazy, for you found yourself in a movie-like scenario that frightened you more than anything you had received from Gotham so far. Close encounters with death, the nightly escapades through the city, the chases, the gun to your head, the nightmares, and everything that happened yesterday seemed like nothing, a complete triviality compared to the situation you were currently in. Suddenly snapping at a masked vigilante seemed much easier than having a polite conversation with a gentleman like Bruce. Word count: 11k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors. Pictures made by me.

Series masterlist

***

"Where are we going?" you asked, quickening your step to catch up with Batman. He did not look at you. He walked half a step ahead of you with his head raised high and eyes focused on the distance. As you followed him, you couldn't help but wonder, is he doing this to protect you from a potential threat, or is he seeing things that you don't see? It didn't seem to you that he was especially observant of his surroundings, and yet your instincts told you that he didn't have to, that he just knew. "Batman?" you tried again to get his attention.

"I have to show you something," he replied shortly yet the coolness of his voice took on a different tone. There was something gentle in it, something strangely familiar.

"You've already said that, but I'd appreciate it if you weren't so mysterious! Can you do it?"

"No," came the dry reply, and again something else crept into his tone, a barely audible shadow of amusement.

"You really like this freaking word, don't ya?" you sighed frustrated, "your friends aren't coming with us?"

"No."

"And are we going far?" you continued with questions," come on man, give me something!"

He did not answer. He only kept walking with a steady, heavy pace while his cape brushed the ground beneath his feet with each step. You watched him, this mysterious figure covered in black, with his face hidden under a cowl, in an armored suit, with a long cape ensuring additional cover in the midst of the night. "Like a figure from myths, and yet so real," you thought.

Batman led you to the exit of the district, through the stone arches topped at its peak by the iron Amusement Mile, outside toward a black car hidden in the shadows of the night. For the first time, you could get a close look at the beast you tried to escape from not so long ago, and you realized that the attempt was pointless. The beautiful car, shining in metallic black, was vaguely similar to a sports car, but definitely much more modified. You had never seen such wide exhaust pipes, such a low profile, such thick tires mounted on a sports car, such shiny rims, such black paint, such bright lights, and such black windows. Wide vents rose on the front hood, providing air flow, to what you could only assume was a powerful engine.

"Damn…" you stopped in awe, "how long did you look for a mechanic who would take on such a job?"

"I didn't," Batman answered but seeing your surprised face he added, "I did it myself."

You were speechless. A million thoughts and questions popped into your head in an instant but they all merged into one. "Who is he? Who is the man who hides his face under the mask?" The passenger door opened and Batman was suddenly right behind you.

"Get in," he ordered.

"Hey, you don't expect me to jump into your car without even knowing where we're going! Mom said you shouldn't get in the car with strangers!" you threw in his face.

"Your mom probably also said that you shouldn't get into trouble, and here you are," you got the impression that he was amused by this banter, "I won't repeat myself."

"You want me to just trust you? That's rather unreasonable…"

"Are you afraid?" he asked, getting dangerously close to you.

"No…" you replied confidently and to your surprise, there was no fear in you.

"Then don't make me force you…"

You didn't want to push his limits. You got into the car and he closed the door behind you, then walked around the car and sat in the driver's side. You tried not to stare at either him or the interior of the car, but it was mind-blowing. The latest technology, countless indicators, and displays that probably showed things other than the speed and revs of the engine. An onboard computer that seemed more suited for a government jet than a modified sports car. Leather black upholstery, leather seats, and that smell, of leather and wood and musk, a smell that strangely seemed familiar to you.

"Fasten your seat belt," he commanded in a stern tone then started the engine, its growl resonated within you.

The force of acceleration crushed your stomach into the back of your seat as the car sped up to a hundred in a split second. The city behind the window seemed to dissolve into one colorful blur passing by in a flash as the Batmobile sped through the streets. Despite his immense speed, Batman remained completely calm and in absolute control. With one hand loosely resting on the armrest, he drove the car effortlessly. Buildings, lights, people appeared and disappeared before you could catch a glimpse of them, leaving you unable to figure out the direction of travel. You gave up. Resigned, you looked at him, and your eyes met. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, only to focus his gaze back on the road.

"You're watching me," you stated, "if you want to ask me something, just ask."

"Usually people are more anxious in my presence…" he pointed out while his watchful eyes glared at you once again, "you seem completely calm."

"Does it bother you that I'm not afraid of you?"

He remained silent.

"I have no reason to be afraid of you," you continue, trying to avoid another awkward silence, "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Wrong? No…" his low gruff tone seemed to reach deep into your core, "stupid? Yes."

"Was that stupid that I wanted to help a friend after you refused me?"

"It was stupid that you decided to go alone into the depths of the Amusement Mile. You were lucky the Joker wasn't there."

"I'm not afraid of him!" you quipped feistily, "besides if it weren't for your friends, the situation wouldn't have escalated! They were the ones who attacked her!"

"Are you trying to say that Dr. Quinzel was only defending herself?"

"No…" you replied quietly, "she pulled a gun on one of them. The one in red suit," you admitted reluctantly, "but if they hadn't appeared none of this would have happened!!!"

"If they hadn't shown up, there's no telling what would have happened to you now."

"Why do you even care?"

Batman once again did not answer. He couldn't. Because how could he tell you that your safety had become very important to him. How could he tell you that he didn't want to see you get hurt, that it annoyed him that you were getting yourself into dangerous situations. How could he confess something he didn't want to admit even to himself, that he liked your company, that for the first time in a very long time he began to catch his thoughts involuntarily running in your direction when he wasn't watching them. To your smile, to your sincerity, to the ease with which he found himself talking to you, to the sparkle in your eye when you presented your project to him, to the ferocity in your voice when you tried to defy him, to the smell of your perfume that wafted through the office every time you arrived at work. Batman couldn't confess what he didn't want to admit to himself, that he had made this case personal.

The buildings, streets and streetlights disappeared outside the window giving way to a vast blackness. Gotham Bay appeared as quickly as it disappeared only to be replaced by countless trees appearing one after another in the fading brightness of the headlights. Before you had time to figure out the destination, the car slowed down, in front of the iron gate of Arkham Asylum. As if on command, the gate opened and you for the first time found yourself on the grounds of the asylum. Batman steered the car between the buildings of the Medical Facility, Penitentiary, and Visitor Center, which, up close, seemed even eerier than you remembered, only to stop the car in front of the Intensive Treatment building.

"Pull that hood on, and do not pull it down under any circumstances," he commanded, "whatever happens, follow my lead."

You didn't feel like defying him. His stern look and the seriousness of his voice were enough to freeze the blood in your veins. You pulled your hood over your head, nodded silently, got out of the car and without a word followed him straight toward Intensive Treatment.

You wanted to look around, your natural curiosity trying to take over you as Batman opened the door to the building and stepped inside, holding the door behind him and letting you enter. He didn't look around. Once again, it seemed to you that he didn't have to. With your head bowed you glanced stealthily at your surroundings from under your hood, wary of exposing your face. The gray floor, the gray-greenish walls, the blinking pale light, the bars everywhere, you tried covertly to capture your surroundings but what you saw made a cold shiver run down your spine.

"Stay close," you heard a quiet command and you quickened your step, matching his.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked in a whisper.

"You'll see…" he replied quietly then turned towards the massive metal door separating the admission area from the true asylum. The door creaked quietly under his pressure but before he could pass through it a man jumped out of the security guards' room, a gun he held in his hands was pointed towards the floor but he had his finger placed on the trigger. "He doesn't look like a hospital guard…"

"Batman?" he asked surprised and from under the hood you saw as the tense muscles in his hand loosen.

"Cash," Batman didn't even look at him. You were beginning to think that this was in his habit.

"Batman you know the rules," the guard took two steps forward, "no civilians in the Intensive Treatment Center," from under the hood you could see he was looking at you.

"She is with me," were the only words he said. Without waiting for his further reaction, let alone permission, he opened the door and let you in.

Gray and green once again surrounded you on all sides making the black, masked figure walking half a step in front of you seem strangely comforting. The sound of his heavy boots echoed off the worn tiles with a rhythmic thud, interrupted time and again by noises you'd rather not hear. Somewhere from the distance the echo brought a scream, from another direction came deranged laughter followed by a growl and a hollow thump. The creaking metal made you turn sharply back, but there was nothing there. Someone screamed again, a piercing maniacal shriek of pain and despair that broke off as suddenly as it began. Another door opened with a creak and, just like before, Batman held it to let you in. The atmosphere around you seemed to grow darker and darker, with only the green-yellow light continuing to flicker inexorably. The darkness in front of you seemed safe, and yet you kept looking back time and again as if expecting a bright light in the distance. That warm, bright, welcoming light, like from your nightmare, the one that could burn you alive.

The screech once again shattered the silence so suddenly that you ran up closer to Batman almost crashing into him.

"I thought you weren't afraid…" he looked at you warily.

"I'm not afraid, but this place is fucking creepy…" you whispered, "why did that guard there had a gun?"

"Guards working in this wing have to carry guns," he replied, "the most dangerous criminals are kept in here. The weapons are for their protection should someone try to escape."

"Has anyone ever escaped?"

"Joker did," your eyes met again when Batman stopped in half step and turned towards you, "Joker was held right here, now as you well know, he is on the loose."

"You brought me here to show me where Harleen should be?"

"No," he replied and added after a pause, "I brought you here to show you where she was working."

"Why?" you asked almost silently. Batman merely moved close enough to you to block out all the light and surround you in complete darkness.

"Because you keep putting yourself in danger…" he looked deep into your eyes and from under the cover of the darkness of his mask you could see the barely visible blue of his eyes, "because you need to understand, really understand, what you're getting yourself into and my words don't seem to be enough."

"He has blue eyes…"

A scream shattered the silence unexpectedly making you involuntarily flinch.

"Don't be afraid…" the husky voice drew your attention again, "you are safe with me."

"I'm not afraid…"

Batman merely turned around and with a quiet "mhm" continued down the hall. You were sure that he was about to open another door and in a moment you would see cells full of prisoners, the most dangerous criminals in Gotham, but instead, he turned into a side corridor leading towards the freight elevator. Without a word, he sent the elevator upward then fired his grappling gun and hooked it to the elevator floor.

"Come on," he extended his hand toward you, "I won't lead you through Holding Cells," with one hand stretched upward, the other held out toward you, he waited.

"Are we going down?" you asked while placing your hand in his armored glove.

"Just a bit, we have to go down to the lower level," he pulled you close to him and put his arm around your waist tightly.

"You're not going to drop me?" you hesitated, placing your hand on his chest, and to your surprise, Batman smiled. A gentle smirk appeared under the cowl and you immediately knew that you would not forget this sight any time soon.

"I won't…" he muttered quietly then tightened his grip firmly on your waist and slowly lowered you to a deeper level.

The dampness immediately hit your body and nose. An earthy, murky, rotten dampness as if suddenly you were below the surface of the earth. But this was no damp cave, just an old dusty, unused corridor, the same as the ones above only more decayed. Batman stood you on the ground and waited to move his hand away until he was sure you were standing firmly.

"You can remove your hood, there's no one here."

You did as he instructed. Your hair, hidden under the hood, spilled loosely over your black leather jacket, and you couldn't help but notice that his eyes lingered on you.

"I know, I know," you stuck an unruly strand behind your ear, "they wave when it's humid."

"It's not far now…" he again assumed a statuesque posture then made his way towards the depths of the corridor.

You walked in complete silence for several long minutes. The Dark Knight in front of you, as always by half a step, and you behind him. Now free of the hood, not forced to hide your face, you could look at him, watch him in fact. In the small narrow corridor, he seemed even more imposing than when you saw him on the bridge. He was tall, taller than you by over a head, and the pointed ends of his cowl only added to the illusion of height. Powerful and broad in the shoulders, like two average men combined, he seemed to fill the entire space, and his armored suit and black cape only added to his magnitude. Yet despite his size, he moved gracefully, without the heaviness you would expect from such a towering man. Aside from the heaviness of his boots, his entire silhouette seemed to be slender but strong, muscular but graceful, strong but gentle at the same time. "And he's got blue eyes."

"You're staring…" you heard a quiet amusement.

"I am not!" you denied but did not hide the amusement in your own voice, "hey, mister dark and brooding! Have you seen yourself in the mirror! You should be used to it by now!"

"We are here…" as with a snap of the fingers the amusement disappeared replaced by cold seriousness. This time Batman didn't walk inside first, instead he stood at the entrance to a small room and looked at you meaningfully, "see for yourself."

A breach in the wall. The breach in the wall was the first thing that caught your eye. A huge hole starting in the middle of the wall, going upward all the way to the upper level.

"Explosion…" you whispered and Batman merely nodded.

You entered the room uncertainly. Blood. Splattered in a wide trail on the wall had already blackened from the passage of time and yet it was impossible to mistake it for anything else. The image of Harleen taking a wide sweep and delivering a blow to the guard immediately appeared in your mind.

"Baseball bat…" you looked at him looking for confirmation.

"I didn't know what tool she used, until today."

You turned around slowly and looked at the opposite wall. The gray-green tiles were riddled with bullet holes. The pattern started at head height only to slowly make its way downward. You imagined, clearly and in detail, a guard shooting at the attacking Harleen, then falling to the floor knocked down by the blow, firing a few more rounds.

"He tried to stop her…" your gaze wandered in his direction again.

"He's in a coma."

You sighed heavily. You wanted so badly to believe that it was all just Joker's manipulation. You wanted so badly to believe that Harleen was just a victim, that he had forced her, taken advantage of her. You wanted so badly to help her. You walked over to the desk which, by the level of clutter, looked like it had been used for months.

"Do you have a flashlight?" you asked Batman even though some part of you didn't want to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. Batman walked over to you, stood behind your back and illuminated the room.

"My god…" you sighed, losing the remnants of your delusion. Photos, newspaper clippings, articles, printouts, all of them about Joker, all adorned with hearts painted in red lipstick. "Harl what have you done…"

"She needs help…" a low, husky voice just behind you brought a shiver onto your skin, "she needs help but not the kind of help you are able to offer her."

You turned to him and your eyes met again. There was no coldness or contempt in him, only a quiet voiceless hope, a quiet voiceless plea for understanding and trust.

"I will help her…" he continued, "trust me. I will do what is in my power to help her but I will do it my way."

"You refused…"

"I didn't refuse because I didn't want to help her. I refused because I didn't want to help you," he spoke calmly and softly while his eyes seemed to look straight into your soul, "I didn't want to put you in harm's way."

"That I did myself," you smirked.

"Can you trust me?" he asked with complete seriousness.

"And do you trust me that I only had good intentions?"

"I do," you smiled upon hearing his answer, not quite understanding why you cared so much.

"Then I trust you too," you replied gazing straight into his eyes, "I trust that you know what to do."

It seemed to you that for a moment the blue of his eyes shone through the blackness of his mask once again. That for a moment the mask seemed to disappear revealing the man hidden underneath, the man who was relieved to hear your words, the man who for some reason cared about your safety. You wanted to ask why. You wanted to ask why he cared so much, why was he concerned, why did he send medics to your home, why did you keep meeting. There was so much you wanted to ask him.

A rustling and the sound of approaching footsteps pulled Batman out of his thoughts moments before you could register what was happening.

"Hide behind the desk and whatever happens stay out of sight," he ordered in a hushed voice.

Without looking back you slipped behind the desk, pulled your hood over your head and curled up in the corner between the desk and the wall, trying to blend in as much as possible and thanking yourself in your mind that you usually wore black. The black that concealed his figure so well in the darkness, hid him so well in the shadows, leaving only the metallic gleaming bat symbol visible on his chest.

The footsteps were approaching. Not rushed. Light. It seemed to take an eternity. Curled up against the wall, you counted the passing seconds with each heartbeat pumping adrenaline through your veins. A beat, two steps, a beat, another two steps, someone was coming in your direction. Before the flashlight filled the room blinding you completely you took one last look at Batman hidden in the darkness and a strange sense of safety calmed your pounding heart. But it wasn't pounding from fear. You were exhilarated. In the darkness, not even Batman could see the smile of excitement painted on your hooded face.

Light filled the darkness blinding you completely for a moment only to dim revealing a figure standing in the shadows.

"Jonathan…"

Professor Crane looked around the room focusing his attention on the desk. He didn't notice the shape hidden in the shadows against the opposite wall, didn't notice the glare of watchful eyes following his every move. He took a few steps toward the desk, but before he could raise the flashlight toward the top and illuminate the space where you were hiding Batman spoke.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked with a growly voice, and although the question wasn't directed at you, you trembled.

Yet Jonathan did not look surprised. From hiding, you could clearly see the frown of anger and frustration on his face.

"I've been delegated to clean up Dr. Quinzel's personal belongings and patient files," he replied in his usual calm tone, so different from the emotion on his face, "But that's nothing I should confess to you," he added before turning to face Batman. "Batman. You realize that your presence in the Asylum aggravates the patients staying here."

"Do you see any here?" the icy tone froze the blood in your veins again, "You are a man hard to find Professor Crane."

"Busy schedule," Crane replied coldly, "if you need my expertise I would suggest you make an appointment through my assistant at Eliot Memorial. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to continue with what I came here for."

"Why is the head of Eliot Memorial's psychiatric ward delegated to Arkahm? You have no jurisdiction here."

"Arkham is short staffed but you probably know that."

"Just as you know, Professor, that this is still an active crime scene and nothing can be taken from here."

"If you have any objections you should raise them with Warden Quincy Sharp. Although I'm sure the Warden doesn't know you're here." Crane remained professional yet you clearly heard a distortion in his voice, something strange, something different, something you've never heard before, "you say this is an active crime scene, and yet I don't think you're wearing a badge."

Batman came out of the shadows and took a few steps toward him, which from your concealment looked as if he was approaching without moving. He stood in front of Jonathan and growled quietly.

"You don't want to get on my bad side," he said but Jonathan remained unfazed, "leave or you'll be explaining yourself to the police."

"I have nothing to hide, I told you why I came here," he persisted.

"You have nothing to hide…" even though you couldn't see you were sure that the barely discernible smile appeared on Batman's face once again, "tell me about Marc Phillips. He was your patient wasn't he?"

"Show me your badge," Crane refused to be intimidated, "I don't have to tell you anything. And if the police are investigating his death they know where to find me."

"They do know. They're waiting for you upstairs. I think they'll have some questions for you."

Crane answered nothing, only fixed his glasses and angrily walked away.

Batman watched him disappear into the depths of the corridor for a while, and only after he heard the metal clang of the closing door and made sure Crane was out of sight and hearing range did he return to you and allow you to come out of hiding.

"We have to leave, now," his tone left no room for discussion, "we can't leave the same way we came."

"The cops are really up there?" you couldn't hold back the question.

"Yes," he confirmed, "there is another exit from here. It leads through the sewers."

"Why didn't we come through it? We would have avoided the guard."

"I chose a safer way in," he explained after which, without delaying any longer, he made his way deeper into the corridor.

Although your mind told you that you should sense fear, there was none in you. The corridor led downward and with each step became darker and tighter, so much so that you stopped seeing Batman who was walking just a few steps ahead of you. Gone were the flickering lights, gone were the rotten doors leading to unknown rooms, gone were even the creepy creaking bars, all that was left was the endless murk and the smell of decay. Trying to make out the way you traced your fingers along the morose walls, and although your mind wondered if it was water or blood, you weren't afraid. When a quietly squeaking creature scuttled across your feet you didn't flinch in fear, when a cobweb coated your face you felt only disgust. When a menacing growl and subsequent mewling sound came from the distance your mind only wondered what it was, but your heart remained calm.

"Watch your head," Batman warned illuminating the lowering ceiling with a frail light, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you whispered as if afraid that your voice would summon something from the darkness, "do you know where we're going?"

"Yes."

"I'm guessing that wasn't your plan."

"No," Batman stopped and illuminated the path under your feet, "there's about to be a rift in the ground. Be careful, it's a deep drop down," he warned again.

"What's the deal with this professor? Why do the cops want to interrogate him?" curiosity won, you had to know.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," you lied, "curiosity, that's it. You seemed hostile and he didn't particularly enjoy your presence either."

"Professor Crane is connected to another investigation that doesn't involve Quinzel," he replied dismissively, "keep your curiosity out of it," he concluded then stopped abruptly, " breach down. Wait here," he ordered then jumped down and disappeared from your sight.

For a moment you stood like that, hunched over avoiding hitting your head on the vault and only the faint light piercing the floor indicated to you where the rift was. Batman disappeared and in complete silence your thoughts seemed to scream. "What is he doing here? Why was Batman so suspicious? Why was Jonathan so aggressive? What the fuck am I even doing here?" questions followed one after another, "why am I so calm? What's wrong with me?"

"Y/N…" came from down below, "you'll have to jump."

"Did you lose your goddamn mind?!" you snapped towards the two bright dots against the darkness below, "I can't see shit!"

"But I can," Batman replied, "Trust me."

"Fuck no! I'm gonna break a leg!"

"You don't have a choice. You're not planning on staying there, are you?" you didn't have to see his face to hear the infuriating grin.

"Are you having fun?!" you snarled furiously.

"A little…"

"Fuck you! I'm going back upstairs!"

"How?" the question did not require an answer, "You have to trust me. I'll catch you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Cursing under your breath, you sat down on the edge of the rift in the floor and hesitated. It was not fear. Rather, it was pure, cool logic telling you that you don't know how deep the hole goes, how far to the ground, how high above it you are and what awaits you below.

"I swear if I break my leg I'll kill you," you growled one last time then pushed off with your hands and slid down. Before you could even feel the rush of air Batman's strong arms wrapped around you and stopped you in mid-air before your feet could touch the ground.

"It wasn't so terrible was it?" a husky voice sounded right next to your ear.

"You are asking way too much of me," you replied as you opened your eyes, "I tend not to trust people."

"Why?" still holding you in his arms, with one hand under your knees and the other wrapped around your waist he observed you closely.

"As you've probably noticed by now, I don't have a very good sense when it comes to people," remarkable how delicate he seemed compared to the strength he displayed, "I usually don't trust at all, or if I do, I trust entirely and then…well you already know."

"You couldn't have known…"

"It's not just about Harleen," anxiety crept in, anxiety you couldn't hide while being so close to him, "people…. did me wrong more times than I could count."

"That's what usually happens when someone has a good compassionate heart," the blue broke through beneath the darkness of his mask again, and something new emerged in his deep husky voice. Sympathy.

"How can you know? You don't know me…" you tried to shrug it off.

"I have a good sense of people," he murmured quietly then released his hand from under your knees and, further belaying your back, allowed your feet to make contact with the ground. "Let's go. We're almost outside."

You tore your eyes away from him and finally looked around at your surroundings. The dark corridor disappeared giving way to wide, expansive sewers. Greenish brown water flowed in a lazy stream down the middle of the sewer, bringing with it a stench stronger than the one you smelled in the corridors above. Mold, rot, mildew, shimmered in all shades of green against the reds and browns you preferred not to name.

"Damn…" you cursed quietly, "I'm going to stink like a sewer all day tomorrow…" you muttered, "Fuck! I'm going to reek of sewers all day tomorrow!!!" the dread finally came to mind, " Fuck fuck fuck!"

"You will survive…"

"You don't understand anything! Tomorrow is Saturday!"

"And?"

"I have a super fucking important date tomorrow!"

"You'll reschedule…"

"No fucking way!" you denied immediately, "No way in hell I'm gonna reschedule that! There are some meetings you simply do not reschedule!"

Walking half a step behind Batman, trying to avoid the stinking water at all costs, you could not see the smile on his face. For Batman was smiling. With a sincere wide smile, at the sight of which even those who knew him would have been surprised. You couldn't have known that the thought suddenly dawned in his mind, that he too would have to make sure he didn't reek of sewers. As he climbed the old, rusty staircase you couldn't hear his thoughts that were planning a long hot shower, a sauna and his favorite perfume for tomorrow. As he opened the heavy metal door you couldn't have known how he planned that tomorrow he would tell everyone that dinner was strictly for investigation and observation purposes. When he emerged to the surface you couldn't see the expression on his face and the spark in his eyes that said he too was looking forward to tomorrow's dinner.

***

There was a time in the past, a few years ago that now seemed distant as if it belonged to another life, when Bruce thought for a moment that he could have it all. When he thought he could have a social life, a successful career, that he could sacrifice his body and mind for a mission and combine it all with a love life. It was a brief moment, a brief delusion that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Her name was Andrea, and Bruce loved her so much that for a brief naive moment he even thought he could leave his mission for her, that he could stop being Batman. When everything fell apart Bruce painfully realized that there was no room for love in the life he had chosen for himself, at least not romantic love. He never regretted that moment for it taught him a lot. It taught him that even though he considered himself a loner who didn't trust anyone, the right partner could open him up, could make him open the heart he had closed to the world when he was just a young boy, could make him dare to love. He also taught him that despite the abilities he had, he was only human, and like any human being, he couldn't have it all. He could have been Bruce Wayne, a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He could have been Batman, the Dark Knight, one of the three founders of the Justice League, and protector of Gotham. But he could not be Bruce, the loving boyfriend, devoted husband, and father. He couldn't have it all.

Over the years, women passed through his life. Some came and went so quickly that he didn't remember their names or faces. Others stayed for longer, like Selena, who was more or less always a part of his life. And there was Y/N. She appeared suddenly, accidentally, completely out of nowhere, but Bruce had a strange feeling that she wouldn't disappear from his life any time soon. And for the first time in a very long time, he had to admit to himself that he didn't want that at all. A random conversation, a random meeting, one smile, one look, a few bad decisions she had made, that was all it took for him to want more. For with her, Bruce for some reason was simply himself. He wasn't the Bruce Wayne the tabloids wrote about. He wasn't the Bruce Wayne they bowed to in the corridors of Wayne Tower, whom everyone wanted to shake hands with at lavish events, whose face was lit up by hundreds of flashes everywhere he went, with her he was simply Bruce. Just Bruce.

Choosing a suit for the evening, Bruce could not help but wonder if he was making the right decision. In the privacy of his dressing room, away from prying eyes, he replayed his encounters with Y/N over and over again in his mind, trying to understand his own actions. The dinner invitation was an impulse that he immediately tried to explain to himself, as a need for observation and investigation. However, he quickly rebuked himself knowing full well that his intention was quite different. There was something about her that would not let him simply move on, and she did not make it easy for him either, both when he met her as Bruce and as Batman. She was so effortless when she talked to him, so unpretentious, so natural, brave, stubborn, passionate, so real. He didn't intimidate her as Bruce, he didn't scare her as Batman, and it fascinated him immensely. Yet despite this, the years of experience which in the blackness of his hair slowly began to shine with single silver strands, placed their burden on him. A burden that reminded him... "you will ruin her life."

A knock on his bedroom door pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," he threw towards the door as he took a classic black suit off the hanger.

"Hey, Bruce," Dick entered his bedroom carrying in his hands freshly ironed shirts, "Alfred asked me to drop these off for you," he explained placing the shirts perfectly flat on the bed, "Are you going out?"

"I have a meeting," Bruce replied evasively. He knew his boys, knew what to expect, and preferred to avoid it.

"Steel gray," Dick pointed a finger at an elgan suit hanging in the depths of the closet, "steel gray and a black shirt. You're going on a date not a business meeting."

"It's not a date," he really didn't want to continue the subject, "Y/N continues to be part of the investigation, and a link to Quinzel and by extension to the Joker. We don't know what kind of…"

"Yes yes, whatever," Dick interrupted him with a smile of amusement, "still, a gray suit and a black shirt."

"It's not a date."

"Is that why you used Parfums de Marly instead of the typical Armani Code?"

"The sewers under Arkham tend to leave an unpleasant stench…"

"Bruce! Come on!" Dick threw him an amused look, "you took a civilian on a tour through Arkham and now you're going on a date with her and trying to bullshit me that it's strictly business."

"We know nothing about her except that she's unreasonable, she's friends with Harleen, and she's a brilliant engineer."

"You looked her up," Dick stated.

"As much as you needed to…" controlling his voice and facial expression came naturally to him. Just as naturally came to Dick deciphering his behavior. No one but Alfred knew him as well as he did.

"No way…" astonishment appeared on Dick's face, "you didn't look her up! You, Batman, didn't check her out! You must really like her."

"She's my employee," Bruce stated firmly, "to conduct a full investigation into her and her past based only on a string of random events would be highly unethical."

"You've done more for far lesser reasons," Dick noted.

"Are you implying something?"

"I'm not implying anything! I'm stating facts!" Dick smiled broadly, and although Bruce was irritated by the tone of the conversation, he couldn't be angry with him. With the same kind smile Dick walked up to him and while placing his hand on Bruce's shoulder he said, "it's okay to want to try, to want to be happy."

"Dick I know you have good intentions but…"

"You know she covered Tim when Harley pointed the gun at him?" Dick interrupted him, "without a moment's hesitation she jumped between him and the pointed gun."

"Jason told me," Bruce nodded, "Tim was mad at himself for dropping his guard off."

"That's really all you got out of it! She doesn't even know him and when in danger she jumped right into the line of fire! Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the danger they're in."

"Or someone who is brave enough to stand up for a stranger…" Dick looked at him meaningfully, "Isn't that what we do? Isn't that what you've been training us to do for all our lives?"

"Your point?"

"All I'm saying is that she's cool! And I'm glad you going on a date with her!" he grinned, "don't fuck this up."

"It's not a date," Bruce reiterated with stubbornness.

"I'll tell Alfred not to wait up for you!" Dick threw in with a broad smile and before leaving the bedroom he added, "steel gray and black shirt! Trust me!"

*

"It's not a date…" you repeated in your mind stubbornly dumping out the contents of your closet in a desperate attempt to find something suitable for the occasion. "It's Bruce freaking Wayne! He dates models and actresses not freaking nerdy engineers!" you explained to yourself while shuffling black clothes from one pile to another. "It's not a date, right? Why would he invite me to dinner?" you wondered discarding your jeans and black shirt, "fuck! why did I agree to this!"

You overslept. After an evening and a night full of excitement, you overslept. Going to bed at three o'clock in the morning you planned to fall asleep quickly and get up at ten o'clock at the most, but your awakened mind had other plans. You couldn't sleep. Every time you closed your eyes Batman appeared in his intimidating demeanor, with his deep husky voice saying "trust me" assuring you "I will catch you," looking you deep in the eyes and saying "you are safe with me." You tossed from side to side while his intense presence returned repeatedly. "Promise me that you will stay out of trouble," he asked on the way back from Arkahm, "Harleen or the Joker may appear. If that happens if you feel in danger, call me. I'll come," he assured as he handed you a small bat-shaped transmitter before you left his car. How you were supposed to fall asleep when adrenaline burned in your veins relentlessly.

For a moment you thought of calling Jonathan. Calling him and asking if he would come over, or at least talk to him for a while. Talking to him was slowly becoming the only solace you were finding. Something you had feared not so long ago was now becoming a pleasant daily routine. But you quickly decided against it. You merely swallowed the pills he gave you and, while watching the moon slowly setting in the brightening sky, you finally fell asleep. But it was not the good regenerative sleep your body and mind were desperate for. It was a sleep filled with nightmares and fear, feelings of despair and helplessness, pain and suffering, and when you finally woke up from it, you regretted that you had decided to go to sleep at all.

Six o'clock in the afternoon was approaching mercilessly and you were slowly beginning to panic. "It's not a date! It's a casual meeting!" you explained to yourself while trying to find something appropriate for the occasion. The pants didn't seem classy enough, the jeans didn't work at all, the shirt seemed too businesslike, and the cashmere sweater although elegant remained a sweater. "I don't have anything to wear!" you let frustrations out loud, "after everything that's happened lately, all I need is to stress over a dinner with the most desirable guy in Gotham!"

Yet for you, Bruce was not at all the man that the tabloids wrote about. He wasn't the playboy who appeared in public each time with a different woman, he wasn't the guy who got the Russian Ballet's performance canceled after he spontaneously took the prima ballerina and the entire cast on a yacht cruise, he wasn't one of the most influential people in the world, to you Bruce was just Bruce. That charming man who one evening decided to walk you home when you had not yet realized the dangers that lurked in Gotham. Who smiled warmly when you marveled at the city's architecture, who listened to your babbling when you outright insulted him to his face and only responded with a warm look and a kind smile because he did not "want to spoil this delightful evening," who never for a moment made you feel like you were inferior. Yes, he was the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but even in that role he always made sure you felt comfortable around him. It was the little things that counted. A kind smile, a sincere interest, the fact that he didn't close the door behind him when you were alone in your office, encouragement, approval, understanding. And that infuriating smirk. In the frantic turmoil of the past week's events, you didn't even have time to think about it for long, but now, as you put on your elegant knee-length black dress and styled your hair loosely pinned up, you had to admit to yourself, you liked him, and the idea of having dinner together was only becoming more exciting with each passing minute.

You took care of every detail. Natural but classy makeup, silver jewelry for you hated gold, a clutch purse, a dress elegant but paired with a casual suede jacket; after all, it wasn't a date. You never wore stilettos, and although you felt they would have been appropriate for the occasion you decided to opt for mid-calf heeled boots. And you topped it all off with your favorite perfume, praying in your mind that a far too long shower killed the odor of the sewers.

"Classy but without overdoing it," you assessed approvingly while looking at your reflection in the mirror, "maybe it's a good thing I overslept. At least I didn't have time to think about what the hell I am doing!"

You grabbed your favorite bracelets from the dresser and a watch that indicated 5:50 p.m. "At the last minute, as always! I'm a disaster! I could have slept longer! Oversleep to meeting with the Bruce Wayne! Pathetic!"

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and were already reaching for your lipstick when the soft, deep growl of the engine sounded quietly outside the window. You paused with your hand halfway to your lips. Lured by the unexpected sound, you walked to the window, pushed back the curtain, and froze. Your heart stopped for a moment as the warmth of a blush came over your face. "Holy shit…"

Four stories below, a silver-gray Lamborghini Murciélago parked on the side of the street, while you slowly began to realize that both the car and its owner were waiting for you. For a moment you watched as Bruce got out of the car, walked around it so that he was standing on the passenger side, leaned nonchalantly against the car and glanced toward your window. The suit so similar in color to the car's paint contrasted with the black shirt and tie making you suddenly feel underdressed. He smiled when your eyes met and your heart skipped a beat, waved discreetly and you understood what the tabloids meant when they wrote about "the most desirable man in Gotham." You smiled, waved to him, and with a pounding heart headed for the door, at the last minute swallowing the two pills Crane had given you.

*

Bruce knew he would never forget the sight of Y/N when he saw her in the glow of the evening lights. The sincere smile she gave him, the sparkle in her eyes as she walked towards him, the scent of jasmine that approached him with her every step. Black dress but no stilettos, elegant jacket but hair loosely pinned up as if she didn't want to do it at all, so normal, so real, so effortless. Over the years he had got used to the fact that the women around him were always trying too hard, straining too much, trying to impress him. The newest fashion trends, the most expensive designer clothes, nails for hundreds of dollars, hair for thousands, fake breasts, fake lips, fake personality. Their every move, every word, every gesture was coldly calculated, carefully balanced, aimed at seducing him or using him for his influence. But not her, she was real, and she didn't care one bit about it all.

"Are you trying to impress me Mister Wayne?" she smiled playfully closing the distance between them.

"Perhaps I am. How am I doing so far?" he returned the smile, leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. She stiffened a little surprised by his gesture only to return the kiss a second later.

"You look dashing in a gray suit," she replied coquettishly, "I should have asked beforehand where we were going. I have a feeling I'm dressed totally inappropriately for the occasion."

"Not possible," even though his mind suggested that he should keep his distance the flirtation came naturally, "you look lovely."

She smiled sweetly as a gentle blush covered her cheek. He didn't want to make her feel embarrassed but he couldn't hold back the compliment.

"Shall we?" he asked, opening the passenger door and offering her his hand as courtesy demanded. With a sparkle in her eye, she took his hand, and although he could clearly see that she had never gotten into a sports car, she maintained complete grace.

The scent of jasmine filled the entire car as he took his own seat behind the wheel and started the engine. He looked at her, at her smiling face, at her sparkling eyes, at her hands folded elegantly on her lap, at the dress that ended just before the knee, and he couldn't help but think how different she looked just a few hours ago. Gone was the fierceness on her face, gone was the mixture of fascination and fear of the unknown in her eyes, gone was the sarcasm and frustration. Despite yesterday's unusual circumstances he truly enjoyed her company, but at the same time he knew he would enjoy it even more today.

*

You tried to conceal your excitement, but your heart was pounding in your chest like crazy, for you found yourself in a movie-like scenario that frightened you more than anything you had received from Gotham so far. Close encounters with death, the nightly escapades through the city, the chases, the gun to your head, the nightmares, and everything that happened yesterday seemed like nothing, a complete triviality compared to the situation you were currently in. Suddenly snapping at a masked vigilante seemed much easier than having a polite conversation with a gentleman like Bruce. For he was a true gentleman in every little gesture he made. His kiss on the cheek was brief and polite, his glances did not linger on you, there was no hubris in his attitude when he gave you a compliment nor pretend in his gestures when he offered you a hand to make it easier for you to get in and out of his sports car. It seemed that everything he did came effortlessly to him, but you paid attention to every single gesture, to every single glance. To the fact that on your way to the restaurant he positioned himself on your left closer to the street, to the fact that when opening the door he stepped inside first only to hold the door for you, to the way he kindly helped you take off your jacket when you got to your table only to get your chair before he himself sat down next to you.

You felt strange when everyone bowed at the sight of him as if everyone knew who he was except you. Valet, bowed at the waist taking the keys from him and a far too large tip. The host greeted him with a polite "Mister Wayne! It's an honor to have you and your lovely companion with us tonight," and the wine was brought to your table by the restaurant owner himself, who bowed low to him and kissed your hand to Bruce's evident displeasure.

"It's beautiful here," you remarked, as you looked around at your surroundings. The restaurant may not have been the most expensive in town but it had an elegance and simplicity about it that gave the interior a warm and cozy aura.

"I'm glad you like it," he replied sincerely, "the best tagliatelle with white truffles in town. I know the head chef, he's incredibly talented," there was no hubris in his words and yet you couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. You looked around the room, at the restaurant staff who fled shyly away from your gaze, at the other guests who whispered in hushed voices casting not-so-subtle glances in the direction of your table. Everyone without exception was interested in you.

"Ignore them," a soft low voice drew your attention. While you were observing your surroundings, Bruce was observing you. He smiled apologetically and added, "They're always talking, always staring. Forgive me, I should book the whole restaurant."

"No, don't apologize! That would only be weird! It's just…" your gaze shot toward the blonde woman in the red dress who was clearly talking down about you, "it doesn't bother you does it? You're used to it."

"I've lived my whole life under the watchful gaze of Gotham's elite, it doesn't affect me anymore," he admitted.

"Gotham seems to have opinions about you," you stated while taking a small sip of your wine, "billionaire, playboy, most desirable bachelor…" you listed the headlines with a playful smile.

"Well well, someone discovered the internet," he smirked.

"Hey, don't mock me, mister!"

"I'm not," he denied but the smirk didn't disappear from his face.

"Just because I made one stupid mistake doesn't mean I am completely ignorant!"

"I have not thought like that," he turned serious, "besides, it was one adorable mistake."

"You'll never gonna forget that aren't you?"

"I don't think so," he smirked again.

"It's so infuriating!" you sighed with amusement.

"What is?"

"This!" you pointed discreetly at his face, "this! All of this! It's infuriating!"

"My apologies," the smile disappeared from your face but remained in his eyes, "should I play serious? Should I play billionaire playboy? "

"No…" you whispered, "don't play. Just be yourself."

For a moment he answered nothing. Only his blue eyes shone as if some thought had emerged and he was considering whether he should say it out loud.

"I am…" he finally replied, "believe me, it's been a long time since…" he hesitated.

"I get it," you looked at him with understanding, "each of us plays a certain role in our lives, each of us puts on a mask and presents ourselves to the world in one way and not another. I can only imagine what that might have looked like in your case. Always in the public eye, always watched. I understand that such situations demand that you wear a mask."

"You have no idea…" something dark crept into his soft voice.

"Don't worry, I didn't believe half the stuff I read, and the other half I completely ignored," you added with a smile.

"Why?" he asked surprised.

"It's just…" this time you hesitated, not knowing what to say to make it sound appropriate.

"Just say it, don't overthink it," he insisted.

"Half the things I read didn't fit with the description to the man who walked me home," you smiled sweetly, "I would like to get to know you as you would like me to get to know you, not as the newspapers describe you," the certainty in your voice and the directness surprised you yourself. You should feel intimidated by this powerful man and yet you felt damn confident.

Bruce only smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. Eyes that hid something you couldn't name. Something hidden deep beneath the surface, under the mask of perfectly styled hair, a shiny Rolex and a perfectly fitted suit. A mystery.

You were silent, suspended in each other's eyes, suspended in gentle smiles, between soft music and aggressive glances, as if you were both planning your next move, as if there was no one else, as if you were both studying each other without saying a word. Your directness surprised him, as much as it surprised you. You saw the puzzlement that briefly appeared in his eyes. And something else. Curiosity.

The waiter appeared interrupting your wordless flirtation to take your orders. Despite the recommendation of a fantastic tagliatelle you declared, to Bruce's amusement, that you were a simple girl and ordered the gnocchi with spinach and parmesan, while Bruce ordered the Fiorentina steak.

"You don't like your wine?" Bruce asked, noting the nearly full glass.

"You're not drinking either," you pointed out, "I don't drink alcohol. Very very occasionally."

"How come?"

"It doesn't work with me," you replied honestly, "there is a lot, in here…" you tapped your finger onto your forehead, "I like to keep it under control, and alcohol has its way of letting it all loose."

"Now you just trying to get me interested," the smirk returned.

"Hey I know that dating in our thirties has its own rules but we won't talk about past traumas, ex-relationships, issues, and galloping inflation," you sneered.

"I am way past my thirties," he quipped, "but I'm glad to hear you think it's a date," the choice of your words didn't pass Bruce's notice but you didn't let him catch you in the trap of words.

"What's your excuse?"

"Surprisingly similar to yours," he replied just as honestly, "but as you said, we won't talk about past traumas and issues."

"I suppose you're tired of being seen through the lenses of past events," you began, as Bruce gestured to the waiter and asked to swap wine for sparkling water, "so tell me, who is Bruce Wayne?" the question was simple and sincere, dressed in a warm tone, inviting openness.

"Who is Bruce Wayne…" he looked at you as if weighing the words in his mind, "he is a compulsively obsessive workaholic who likes to ride his motorcycle, listens to jazz, blues, metal, and classical music, enjoys good books and freshly brewed coffee, and wishes to find a time to visit the Tibetan mountains again."

"Oh now, you just trying to impress me," you joked, "what's a good book for you?"

"King, Koontz, Abercrombie, Erikson," Bruce listed, "but I also like classical literature and philosophical works. Immanuel Kant, Aristotle, Friedrich Nietzsche, Ralph Waldo Emerson…"

"I knew you were an intellectual," you smiled cockily.

"And I dream of going to the movies," he continued, "it's been ages since I was in a movie theater!"

"We gonna have to change that," you smirked, "but you just told me what you like, not who you are. Don't think I'm not paying attention."

"The answer to that is much more complicated."

"Life is complicated Bruce," you smiled and leaned over to look at him closer, "who are you?"

"Well…" he didn't break eye contact but behind the stormy blue eyes you saw a struggle going on, "I'm a father."

This was not the answer you expected. How did this information slip away under a flurry of gossip headlines? You leaned back in your chair and looked at him with undisguised surprise and genuine curiosity.

"Well sort of…" he continued, "it's a difficult and quite strange relationship we've got. Something between father and older brother. At least with most of my boys."

"Most of?"

"Yeah," he chuckled awkwardly, "there are five of us in total, well six if you include Alfred. Dick is the oldest, he's in his late twenties. I adopted him when he was just a young boy after his parents…" he paused as if recalling a memory, "I witnessed his parents death when I was in my twenties. They were circus acrobats. The circus owner didn't want to give the mafia extortion money, and the mafia responded by cutting the acrobats' safety ropes to make it look like an accident," he visibly saddened but didn't avoid your eyes. On the contrary, he looked at you intently. Little did you know that there was a battle going on inside him, with one side wanting to talk and the other trying to stifle that urge.

"This is heartbreaking…" you whispered, feeling tears run into your eyes.

"Then there is Jason," Bruce continued, "Jason was a street kid, Gotham raised him. Our paths crossed when he tried to steal from me. That didn't work out," he smiled wryly, "Instead of an easy loot I offered him something completely different."

"Not many people would do that…"

"The next in terms of age is Tim. Tim will be seventeen this year and he came to us quite differently. A brilliant boy. His genius was sometimes a problem at school and even now as he's in college, it often gets him into trouble. I try to help him nudge his genius and talent in the right direction."

"Perhaps one day he'll be the next CEO at Wayne Enterprises," you smiled.

"Perhaps," Bruce also smiled, "the youngest of them is Damian, my biological son…" he hesitated again for a moment, "Damian is troubled. Angry, frustrated, full of resentment, just as I was when I was his age."

"How old is he?"

"Thirteen…" Bruce replied without hesitation, "For years he grew up with a mother and grandfather who, let's just say, didn't care for him as they should have. Especially his mother. Damian came to me barely three years ago, and since then it has been a continuous learning process for us."

"Where is she now?" you asked uncertainly, "his mother."

"She's not in the picture," he replied shortly, "how do you do that?" the blue of his eyes suddenly brightened and lit up with intense brightness.

"Do what?" you asked innocently.

"Making me talk," he replied and furrowed his brows as if trying to decipher something, "I don't do that. That's not how it works."

"You don't talk about yourself?" amusement mixed with surprise tinted the tone of your voice.

"No…" he replied quietly, "No, I don't. Besides, no one usually cares to ask."

"Let me guess. Women in your world are only interested in your Lamborghini, privet yacht, fancy parties, and your wallet," you snarled.

"Pretty much."

"That's sad…." your reply again brought a surprise to his face, "Bruce Wayne is such a fascinating man. Kind, compassionate, caring…"

"You must be talking about someone else…" he scoffed.

"I mean it. How many twenty-something guys would adopt a teenager who lost his parents or a street kid who tried to steal from them? I'll tell you. Not many."

"They needed a place to belong to and I could give that to them. Besides, I could relate to and understand their pain."

"Compassion…" you emphasized, "I must say, you surprised me, Mister Wayne. Tell me about Alfred, you've mentioned his name," you wanted him to continue.

"No no no, enough about me. You know now who Bruce Wayne is. Now tell me who is Y/N Y/L/N," the blue eyes stared at you intensely.

"She's definitely curious," you smirked paraphrasing his own words.

"You told me how you feel, not who you are," he too was good at this word game.

"The answer to that question is much more complicated," you replied quietly and for the first time, you lowered your gaze. You saw sincere interest in his eyes and wanted to satisfy it but how could you when you were looking for the answer to that question yourself. There were gaps in your memory, torn-out fragments, missing pieces you couldn't put together. And there was also trauma. A trauma you hadn't talked about with anyone, not even your psychiatrist. "Who am I?" the thought ran through your mind and for the first time you regretted that in your confidence you had brought up the subject. You should have anticipated this turn of events.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," you could see the sincere worry on his face. And how could he not be worried when he was well aware of things you were not telling him about. At least that's what he thought.

"You didn't," you denied, "I'm sorry. It's just… you gave me such a sincere answer, you shared something important to you, and here I am struggling to even begin to answer this question."

"You don't have to if you don't want to…"

"I feel like I owe you and," this time you hesitated, "and I really want to. It's just…"

"No pressure," he interrupted you and all you could see in his eyes was understanding, "there will be other opportunities," he assured you.

"There will?"

"I kinda wanted…damn that's gonna sound weird right now but…" he combed his fingers through his hair in embarrassment, "please don't take this the wrong way."

"I won't."

"There is this Tech Expose in Metropolis next week and I've been thinking, given your project which frankly is really great, that it would be very beneficial for you to be there," a moment ago so confident now he had something of the insecure embarrassed boy in him, which in your eyes was incredibly cute, "TechX, all the important companies in the market will be there. S.T.A.R. Labs, LexCorp, Stagg Industries, Queen Industries, and Wayne Enterprises. It's a big event. I would like you to go with me."

"And why would I take it the wrong way?"

"I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you…" he replied, "and given that I'd like to meet you again, privately, the proposal to travel to Metropolis together might be perceived as inappropriate."

"And do they have movie theaters in Metropolis?" you smirked.

"I'm sure they do," his eyes shone.

"As long as you won't fire me I'm gonna gladly mix professional and private life," you replied in a hushed voice, "cos as much as I like working at Wayne Tech I kinda want to get to know my boss a little bit closer," you added confidently.

"Good. Cos he sure wants to get to know you."

***

Chapter eight: Fears

~~***~~ Author note: As I started writing this chapter I thought to myself it's gonna be a breeze to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to contain in it, what plot points needed to happen, I new how, more of less it would look like. Let me tell you guys, It wasn't. Turned out that writing Batman is much more difficult than I originally thought! It's like writing at least six different characters! Cos he is different depending on with whom he interacts. And I really wanted to convey that difference. I thought that writing two big scenes one with Bats, and another with Bruce is a brilliant idea! And I hope it turned out to be. But writing four different versions of him in one chapter was a hell of a task. I do hope it worked out as I intended. And I do hope you liked it :) I'm grateful to you all who are reading this story. I hope it's bringing you as much joy in reading as it brings me while I'm writing it, despite the struggles which I created myself. Till the next one! At the end, as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading.

~~***~~

Tag list:@clown-princesa @theclassicvinyldragon @blondwhowrites @batgirlspain @hangmanscoming

[thebloomonster]

The world we knew..

Warning: my writing, the plot and angst LMAO

Wednesday Addams x reader (past), Wednesday Addams x enid Sinclair (present but barely mentioned)

A/n: just wanted to indulge myself in self made angst because I somehow got inspired by the song, I've never written something seriously and posted it soo..🥴 I apologize for the writing to anyone who sees this LMAO, but anyways enjoy!

Word count: 795

Over and over I keep going over the world we knew..

Once when you walked beside me..

The radio plays at the most perfect time. I watch Wednesday walk beside enid, hand in hand, a subtle yet genuine smile displayed on the goths lips as she looks at enid, although subtle I know that smile, I've memorized it, I've painted it. she's happy, she's in love.

god.. why did this happen, I'm supposed to be in her place. A thought comes to my mind, a very selfish one. I clutch the cup of coffee in my hand as bitter tears start to form in my eyes, I quickly wipe them away before they even stream down my face. I'm hurting oh so much, but I can't seem to look away from them,

that inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew

when we two were in love

She's so beautiful, her smile, that sweet smile of hers, I thought she would only smile at me that way..

I let out a shaky sigh, I take a sip of my coffee

and every bright neon sign turned into stars..

and the sun and the moon seemed to be ours

I couldn't help but reminisce about our days, our moments, the firsts that she's given me and the firsts that I've given her. it was oh so sweet, so memorable when she said yes, when she kissed me.

Everything was sweet, gentle, perfect. we took our time, she understood me and I understood her. we were so happy. we had dreams, plans for our future.

each road that we took turned into gold

I thought we were perfect, we helped each other through tough times, although at first she didn't let herself be vulnerable with me, she even pushed me away so many times but I wanted to be patient,

I wanted her to understand that I'm there, well, was, I didn't wanna leave until we really tried, eventually she let herself, she trusted me, she loved me, I love her. I don't know what changed. Just because of rumours and a photoshopped picture of me and a random stranger I talked to, all of, us crumbled. I thought she wouldn't be fooled by those, maybe she didn't trust me as much as I thought.

I tried to convince her that all of the things that I was accused of were fake, I tried so much I even begged her to believe me. Days, weeks of trying to convince her went to nothing, I love her so so much it's painful. I knew she knew that but I don't know why she didn't believe me

but the dream was too much, for you to hold...

I placed the cup gently down on the table, I forcefully tear my eyes off of the happy couple I then I bury my face into my hands and finally let the tears flow, I silently cry in the mostly empty cafe, there is a tinged of embarrassment in me as I cry in the public place, but I couldn't care less. I cry and cry my body shakes almost painfully,

now over and over I keep going over the world we knew..

days when you used to love me..

fuck.. I croaked out, my throat feels like it's burning, I clench my jaw hard as I hiss out a sound almost akin to a sob, I try to restrict any sob that dares to slip out of my quivering lips. Tears continue to stream down my face, but I couldn't hold back a painful sob I quickly cover my mouth and I try desperately to wipe my tears, the song currently playing seems even more depressing.

and every bright neon sign..turned into stars

and the sun and the moon seemed to be ours..

I don't try and look at where Wednesday and enid could still possibly be as I cry pathetically, facing down into the poor cafe table, the coffee that I ordered now completely forgotten.

Each road that we took, it turned into gold..

But the dream was too much for you to hold..

if anyone ever noticed me they don't try to comfort or even approach me just like the times when I cried and begged her to stay but she just looked at me, with an expression I couldn't comprehend. Did she even love me? a stupid thought comes to mind, of course she did, we were just not meant to be.

Now over and over I keep going over the world we knew..

Days when you, used to love me..

it's been two years, love, I still think of the world that we built.. do you?

Over and over I keep going over the world.. We, knew..

[numinous-queer]

When we began to prepare to foster a kiddo, I took a red yarn bracelet we got at a friend's wedding (referencing the long red thread of fate), and unraveled it to its three component threads. I braided them as tightly as I could - one strand for me, one for my wife, and one for the child we wanted to love. "Hope is a thing with feathers" I quoted to myself a day later, so I started to look for them on my daily walks with the dog. I collected big beautiful cardinal feathers as bright and passionate as my wife, glossy crow feathers full of corvid trickery and intelligence, and bluebird feathers for me, for the joy I wanted to feel.

The night we accepted Sola's placement in our home, I took the most beautiful feathers and wove them into a latticework in the thread - a modified witch's ladder. Every feather felt like a nail holding together the home we were building for her, and the life we wanted together. As she has been with us these 8+ months, I have continued to collect feathers - from the pond where she loves to watch the duckies, from goose feathers blown up to our very doorstep, to any scrap of anything that could have come from a bird. I was so desperate that I'd scramble to pick up any feather-shaped leaf or detritus on my walks, thinking I'd feel better if I could just add another feather to my collection. "Keep her happy, keep her safe, keep her with us" I said out loud into the dust of the garden shed every time I added a feather. (Oh God oh GOD keep her safe)

Last weekend, I buried the feathers in our backyard by a bench where I spent so much time crying as I worried about kiddo's future. There must have been hundreds of them collected since 2021. As I laid them out individually, I wept over them and tried to say goodbye to specific dreams I had of being Sola's father. I was going to bring her on a trip with my wife's parents to the beach this summer, with pony rides already scheduled. I was going to bring her to toddler gymnastics in July. I was going to make summer picnics our new tradition. I was going to collect pumpkins with her every year on her birthday. I was going to dance at her quinceañera. I was going to read The Hobbit out loud to her like my dad did for me. I was going to finally teach her to ride the tricycle her little legs were too short for. I was going to break the news that dinosaurs were extinct and we couldn't see them at the zoo. I was going to find kid concerts in the park for her, because ever since she started to talk she wants to sing her heart out. I was going to keep her safe and dedicate my entire life to making her laugh.

Her last day with us is going to be May 23rd, and it is the hardest thing in the world to pivot to pretending that I'm happy about this for her sake. She's 3.5, too little to understand, and takes her cues from us. If she sees us crying, she'll conclude that panicking is the right thing to do, and might even blame herself or think she did something wrong. My wife and I are essentially taking shifts putting on a brave face for her, and it's killing us slowly. It's working insofar as Sola seems in good spirits, and I'm just begging the universe that stays the case. We can't move the date or change this outcome, and now our most important job is to help her feel okay about this.

We don't know what will happen, but bio mom has indicated that she likes and trusts us and wants us to stay in the picture. Assuming her mom keeps in touch with us, my wife and I would like to become Auntie and Uncle figures to Sola. If we can babysit sometimes, maybe we can stay in her life and keep an eye on how she is. It may be possible to make some of my dreams for her happen, even if it's not as her Daddy. I'm going to have to hold onto that hope in the days and weeks to come.

Irl friends, please reach out to me if you can. After she's gone on the 23rd, I'm going to collapse in a pile and cry for a million years. I need to feel like there are people around who understand the depth of anguish we are feeling. Thank you to everyone who has already been helping me walk this road. @howdydowdy, I owe you everything; thank you for fielding so many hysterical phone calls. I'm so glad you got to meet her and see how special she is. Thank you ET for sharing my joy and my grief and my rage. You kept me sane by reminding me that I wasn't losing my mind, it was our circumstances that were outrageous. And thank you to everyone here who has reached out in solidarity as we entered parenthood the extra hard way. Together, you all got me to a place where I could help this child as much as I could and as long as I could. Now I just have to hope that it was enough.

[cyantomatos]

Wheel of Writing - Day 25

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader Prompt: Handwritten letters 

It wasn’t even your idea, originally.

You’d toyed with the idea of a first look, and while you loved the concept, a small part of you really wanted to see his reaction from the other end of the aisle. When you brought it up to your Maid of Honor, she suggested this.

Letters.

You let out a nervous giggle as your hands fumble against each other, arms twisted around the corner. Your photographer had found a nice corner where she could get pictures of the two of you without you seeing each other as you read. 

“Ready?” You can hear the smile in his voice, and nod despite knowing he can’t see you. 

“Ready.”

You unfold the paper, fumbling slightly as you refuse to let go of his hand. There’s rustling around the corner that lets you know he’s also unfolding his, and then your eyes are scanning over his neat writing.

My love,

There’s things I want to say to you that I’ll never have the guts to say in person. I tell you all the time how much I love you, and how beautiful and amazing you are, but I’ve never told you how you saved me. I think you know some of it, considering how we met, but I’ll never be able to explain it all. Your love saved me, and from more than just a life on the streets. I see things differently now, everything seems brighter and more beautiful just having you in my life. I was so lost before, and you helped me find my way back to the light. I don’t just see darkness in my future, I know good things can happen now.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for anything in my life than I am about marrying you. You truly are the best thing to have ever happened to me, and I know now what people mean when they say they’ve met their better half. You make me better, make me want to be better, and every day you continue to amaze me with just how much love you have in your heart.

I will never be able to properly convey just how much I love you, but I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying. You are beautiful, kind, compassionate, and more amazing than anything I ever could have dreamed to have in my life.

I can’t wait to call you my wife. I want to build a life with you and grow old with you. I want you beside me for everything that comes after today good and bad. In sickness and in health, for better and for worse, right?

Here’s to a bright future together.

Forever yours,

Zach

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Captain Swan AU - Meet Cute

A/N: This is short and sweet and silly. My soulmate/bestie is a teacher and she is doing lessons on POV. She put together an assignment with interesting little pictures and you have to write about them, first, in first-person and, again, in third-person. And, I was inspired. I was inspired and I am so happy with this. Anyway, modern-day AU where Killian and Emma are strangers in the city, but live in the same apartment complex. ---------------------------------------

--------------------------------------- And now I'm stuck in the ceiling of McDreamboat's apartment...

I know it is silly, but Lily Christened him McDreamboat during her Grey's phase when we bumped into him returning from a jog. We weren't jogging, we went out for coffee and scones. He was jogging. I think that even made him more dreamy. We'd just moved from our small town home to the big city, still trying out the speciality coffee shops and local bookstores to find future escapes, and we ran into this beautiful, slightly damp, blue-eyed, well, Dreamboat who happened to live in our building, under our apartment. And so, McDreamboat became a familiar and distant face, the way neighbours often are in city apartment buildings.

So now, after five years of admiring from afar and very, very intentionally not speaking with this handsome celebrity - well, for Lily and me. I am stuck in his ceiling with a fucking bright tulle skirt on, in case you thought he would not notice this intrusion. No, his newest unwanted, hanging plant is wearing a colourful tulle skirt, bright pink heels, and - thank God for small miracles, leggings.

---------------------------------------

Killian threw his keys in the bowl, shrugged off his leather coat, and tried to decide if today warranted breaking out the 30-year scotch or if rum would be up to the task. Since he could sense a bit of annoyance still festering off the back of his last meeting, he decided this night was a quantity evening.

He walked deeper into his apartment where the bar cart sat in his living room, reached for the rum, and abruptly stopped. There were legs hanging from his ceiling that ended in bright pink high heels. Killian didn't laugh, for which he was congratulating himself, even as a full smile broke out across his face. "I was just pouring a drink, would you like something?" he called up to the suspended guest.

A muffled word, or maybe it was a groan, was the initial response. But, then he heard his guest clear her throat and say much more clearly, "oh, I thought I'd drop in for a gin and tonic."

"I'm afraid my tonic has gone a bit flat, but I suppose it'll do, given I wasn't expecting anyone today." Killian poured a gin and tonic, poured himself a finger of scotch - tonight just got a little less morose, and set them on the bar. "I'm Killian, by the way," he called over to the legs and he walked back to the coat closet in the entryway. "Emma Swan," she called back, just as he returned with a step stool. She was swinging her legs as if sitting in a chair where her feet couldn't quite reach. It made him smile all the more. "Alright, Swan. I'm going to give you a bit of a tug, in 3...,2...,1...umph."

--------------------------------------- A/N: Okay, okay, I know this could be any two people from any fandom. But, in my head, this is Killian and Emma. I can see an entire story where this is the meet-cute and it really is them, specifically, them. If my life can get a little less hectic, I want to write it for you, too.

[uwusillygirl]

i truly loved reading your thoughts about this. it would be so fun if maybe you could occasionally post recs of your favorite books/movies/shows and maybe briefly share opinions on them? only if that would be fun for you of course! i'm just saying i, and i'm positive many of your readers/followers, would be delighted to see them!

you are absolutely right regarding NP featuring a parade of horrifying clueless men masquerading as doms where all of marianne's masochistic tendencies seem to get repeatedly exploited without the scenes being "resolved" in any meaningful or helpful way. & instead of an ideal result of her feeling somewhat better and at peace, they leave her the same raw bleeding wound of a girl. and your take on connell needing to prove to himself he's good and good TO marianne when in reality many times he has been anything but... really brilliant. i don't think i've ever thought of it that way, as lost as i was in my harrumphing about what i took as rooney's repeated portrayal of slow vanilla sex being equated to true quasi-soulmate-bond love and affection. though i am first to admit i am a very sensitive girl who will immediately take things to heart if i see myself in a piece of fiction, and sometimes miss the bigger literary analysis picture. i'm so glad i sent an ask! also lol @ paul and daisy definitely sacrificing some canon information to say get behind me BDSM baddies of all types we got y'all. (also idk if you've seen/heard but paul mescal is in a film called "aftersun" that i believe is playing in select theaters right now which from my understanding is a very dreamy and melancholy potentially-hysterical-tear-inducing two hours of him being a young girl dad. i have not seen it yet because i think it might actually break my brain in a very dangerous way that i am not equipped for atm, and i am already pre-mourning my sanity and emotional stability for when i finally bite the bullet)

also as someone who has full on sobbed to your beautiful cathartic words many times over, i am grateful to you for exploring freaky mentally unstable girls who maybe should re-evaluate their relationship to sex but also maybe shouldn't because sometimes it's ok to be insane and slutty if you have a partner to support you through it! if drugs can't fix you maybe having 15 orgasms in a row can! even though i think i am different from your chrissy in many ways, i have never felt so validated by a character and never felt so hopeful and fulfilled seeing her clawing her way to happiness. sometimes it feels like you've taken stuff from the darkest stickiest ugliest parts of my brain and put it on paper and i'm like ok well now i've got to have a three week crisis to deal with this now, except it usually ends in some necessary acceptance and potential healing and always at least a temporary period of bright hope for the future (which is so difficult to come by some days). so thank YOU!

i loved reading what you had to say, as well! thank you so much for sharing (u actually got my brain all crazy and now i'm writing a little something that'll hopefully be up tonight lmao)! i would be SO happy to share recs (including ones tailored to specific interests!) if that's something people would like! anyone can lmk! i watch and read a shit ton for my work, actually, so i'm always so happy to share thoughts. it'll give my loved ones a break from my random excitable rants, too.

going a little out of order here, but i have found that the day i let go of trying to understand, rid of, or narrativize my sexuality, gender expression, and sexual interests and just say "whether it came from some event or is inherent or is a choice, it just is what it is, and that's okay" it paradoxically became way less of an issue for me, and way easier to express what i like and want just for the sake of it. in my opinion, there's only so much exploring we can do before it becomes a sort of ouroboros of "i'm trying to work stuff out for me" turning into "i'm trying to be sexually palatable in a new way".

"get behind me bdsm baddies" is so fucking funny. i have actually seen aftersun and was one of the original hysterical criers over it. i can confirm it is a life ruiner, and yet i'm going in for a rewatch on sunday. best movie of the year in my opinion!

i am so flattered that first one's free has moved you! it's more than okay to be insane and slutty! i don't know you, but can pretty confidently say that your darkest stickiest ugliest parts of your brain are not that bad if my chrissy expresses them - she may think she's a mess but i think she (and anyone who resonates with her) is doing just great and is a good person deserving of good things <3 if i didn't believe that then i'd also be so fucked lmao.

hope the near future brings you those good things! glad to hear you're finding spaces to feel hopeful.

please send an ask whenever, i'm so glad you reached out!

[catonablog-blog-blog]

Local V. Eminent Domain: Townspeople Outraged at Mayor's Attempt to Seize Public Park Greetings fellow citizens of Greenfield! Rufus T Flywheel here, your ever-vigilant defender of the little guy, the voice of reason in a world gone mad! Today, I bring you a tale of injustice, a story of greed and power-hungry politicians attempting to trample on the rights of the people. Yes, my dear readers, the time has come for us to rise up and fight against the tyranny of our own Mayor! It all started innocently enough. A rumor began to circulate around town that our beloved Mayor was planning to seize the public park located in the heart of Greenfield for a so-called development project. At first, we dismissed it as mere gossip, but as more and more details began to emerge, it became clear that this was no idle threat. The Mayor was indeed eyeing our park for some nefarious scheme, and the townspeople were having none of it! Now, let me make one thing clear. This park is not just a piece of land with some trees and benches. No, it is much more than that. It is a sanctuary for our community, a place where families gather for picnics, children play, and neighbors come together to enjoy the beauty of nature. It is a symbol of our town's heritage and a testament to the values we hold dear. And the Mayor wants to take it away from us? Naturally, the news of the Mayor's plan spread like wildfire, and soon, the townspeople were up in arms. Meetings were held, petitions were signed, and protests were organized. The citizens of Greenfield were united in their resolve to fight against the Mayor's attempt to seize the park. And who was leading this resistance, you ask? Why, none other than yours truly, Rufus T Flywheel! I took it upon myself to be the voice of the people, to stand up against the corruption and injustice that was threatening our town. I rallied my fellow citizens, armed with nothing but our passion for justice and our determination to protect what is rightfully ours. Together, we formed a coalition of concerned residents, ready to take on the powers that be and defend our park at all costs. The battle lines were drawn, and the tension in Greenfield was palpable. On one side stood the Mayor, with his cronies and supporters, touting the supposed benefits of the development project and painting those who dared to oppose it as obstructionists and troublemakers. On the other side were the townspeople, ordinary men and women who only wanted to preserve their park and safeguard the essence of their community. As the days went by, the situation grew more intense. The Mayor refused to back down, insisting that the park was essential for his grand vision of progress and prosperity for the town. He claimed that the development project would bring jobs, revenue, and growth to Greenfield, painting a rosy picture of a bright future that awaited us if only we would give up our beloved park. But we saw through his lies and empty promises. We knew that once the park was taken from us, it would be lost forever. We understood that no amount of economic gain could compensate for the loss of a place that held so much meaning and importance for our community. And so, we stood firm in our resolve to resist the Mayor's attempts to seize our park. The battle reached its climax when the Mayor announced his intention to use eminent domain to acquire the park. Eminent domain, a legal principle that allows the government to take private property for public use, was being wielded as a weapon against the very people it was meant to protect. The townspeople were outraged at this blatant abuse of power and vowed to fight back with all their might. And fight back we did. The Mayor's office was inundated with angry calls and messages, the town hall meetings were overflowing with protesters, and the local media was buzzing with reports of the growing unrest in Greenfield. We made our voices heard loud and clear, declaring that we would not stand idly by while our rights were trampled upon. In the end, our collective efforts paid off. The Mayor was forced to reconsider his plans in the face of overwhelming opposition from the townspeople. He backed down from his attempt to seize the park and instead pledged to work with the community to find a compromise that would benefit everyone. It was a hard-fought victory, but a victory nonetheless for the people of Greenfield. This experience has taught us a valuable lesson. It has shown us the power of unity, the strength of community, and the importance of standing up for what we believe in. It has reminded us that no matter how powerful or influential those in authority may be, they are ultimately accountable to the people they serve. And it has renewed our faith in the inherent goodness and resilience of our fellow citizens. So, let this be a message to all those who seek to trample on the rights of the people: we will not be silenced, we will not be bullied, and we will not back down in the face of injustice. The citizens of Greenfield have spoken, and our voices will continue to ring loud and clear, echoing through the halls of power and reminding those in authority that we are watching, we are vigilant, and we will not be swayed. With that, I leave you, my dear readers, with a call to action. Stand up for what you believe in, speak out against oppression and injustice, and never forget the power that lies in the hands of the people. Let us continue to fight for our rights, our freedoms, and our community, united in our quest for a better, fairer, and more just society. Until next time, stay strong, stay vigilant, and stay true to the principles that make us who we are. Together, we can overcome any obstacle, no matter how daunting it may seem. Remember, the power of the people is greater than the people in power. Let us never forget that truth. Yours in solidarity and determination, Rufus T Flywheel

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

power and fear

since sleep is impossible tonight

I suppose that means there's something to

examine or release or... something

sometimes it's tough to sit with my energy

it's so wild and morphic and restless right now

I'm not certain about anything right now

it's uncomfortable but not new exactly

am I afraid of certainty? of trusting?

of something going right for me?

if I were to name the powers of my inner being

they would be inner strength and perseverance

I have the ability to find beauty in the mundane

my writing voice has increased in consistency and style

but it is harder for me to dream fully

it's difficult for me to know what I want exactly

my ability to desire things feels turned off

and I don't exactly know how to turn the facet back on

I still haven't taken off my hermit cloak

and I still feel so tried when I think about anything

but the next steps I have to take to liberty

which is weird because if I would just let myself

dream about little things like decorating my new apartment

putting fairy lights on a balcony and what kind of plants I'd grow

how I'd learn how to make sourdough bread

what kind of stores would be nearby

I've been starting over my whole life

I've lived seven places in the last thirteen years

that's a lot of moving and packing and work

which is fine I don't mind work

but it all does feel kind of overwhelming

maybe that's why I want to avoid thinking about it

this only causes stagnant energy and energy needs to flow

maybe I'm thinking about the wrong details

I want to live in a place where there's music playing always

and candles and art everywhere that feels magical

I want there to be warm blankets and comfortable places

to sit and have my tea poured from a beautiful kettle

with beautiful stained glass lamps and paper star lanterns

I want it to be cozy and tidy and everything will be kept

like it's worth something and not neglected to ruin

I want there to be laughter again and a sense of belonging

I want to feel safe there and things to be put back

so I know where to find them and not be constantly looking

I spend so much time looking for things and it's stressful

I want there to be fresh herbs and a place to grill

I want the kids to have their own rooms and this time

I'll actually be able to have the mind space to decorate them

they'll enjoy their private space and be able to invite people over

I don't want to feel chronically overwhelmed anymore

we'll all pitch in and help to keep everything maintained

and I think my new environment will lend to that

I want to print out pictures and hang them on the walls

I want to have a place where I can invite people

for board game nights and make friends that are nerdy like me

but in the way where we talk about our lives over wine

even the difficult stuff and there is a sense of community

I'll have bookcase full of books and little treasures

and a corner where I have all my art supplies and a place

where we can just all sit down and make something beautiful

I want there to be a colorful rug that I can read on

or fall asleep on or maybe ... it'll just pull the room together

it's fun to imagine reading again and getting lost in pages

there will be a bunch of plants and I'll remember to water them

the new space will remind me of who I was originally

and there will be some sadness but mostly delight

I know the future is bright it just kind of feels like

there's so much in between now and getting there

but it will remain that way until I take more steps

to change everything and so I will keep making them

I have goals tomorrow that I will meet and keep my spirits up

it's all going to be better than okay it's going to be wonderful

so I'll learn how to let myself a little more dream more

worry a little less and face my fears boldly

and now maybe I can get my fine ass back to bed