#and then i'll get back to fic writing 💘

[theflyingfeeling]

I'm on a relatively bright mood and got a good hair day to top it all so I'm making y'all look at my nice hair and my pastel colour aesthetic 💖

[allysunny]

Hii, firstly I LOVE ur writing so much, you’re really talented 🌟💘

Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!

I was wondering if you could do 27+r for Bruce 🥰 something like he left to protect her, it hurt him more than anything and he realized that it was mistake and wants her back. Happy ending tho, I’m a sucker for that haha 😄❤️

Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻

“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you x Bale!Bruce

Words: 15.8k words

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, lots of angst, pregnancy, break-up, suggestive themes and one (1) very poorly written and short nsfw scene (it's like 5 lines long I think), one (1) death, Bruce Wayne being a mess (relatable), a lot of heartbreak and pining, not proofread. I literally wrote this in a span of like, one week, and it's not proofread, so oh my god I'm so sorry if there's anything wrong with it...

A/N: Oh my god. Hello everyone. Holy fuck. Okay so, I hope you guys are interested to know what the fuck happened here. I don't want to waste any more time (the explanation is quite big), so I'll add it after the fic, in the final Author Note. Small context: I got two requests that were kinda similar, so I decided to mix the two together!

Just a heads up, due to reasons that I'll expand on at the end, I feel like the end drags on a bit. I did not proofread because I was a bit saturated with this piece, and I think that at some point, I actually cried because I was panicking real hard.

Anyway!!! I love Bruce!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this <3

Bruce knew you were the one after you'd first spilled coffee all over his suit.

You just looked so worried, your pretty eyes wide with fear as you tried to think of what to say to this stranger you'd just bumped into – or so he thought. You, in fact, knew exactly what you wanted to say to him.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, asshole!" you'd exclaimed, looking at what remained of your iced coffee. "This thing was almost 10 dollars, what am I supposed to do now?"

Bruce eyed you up and down, honestly surprised you had the guts to raise your voice at him. Didn't you know who he was? Did you simply not care?

Either way, he was enthralled.

"Hey!" you waved your arms in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Look at me!"

"May I be so bold to point out you spilled your coffee onto me?" Bruce asked with a small scoff. "If anything, you are the one supposed to do something about it."

"This wouldn't have happened if you watched where you were going." You were very pretty, Bruce noted. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, and your arms were crossed over your chest, making his eyes dart towards it.

"And what am I supposed to do?" He replied.

"I don't know! Give me my money back or something, that coffee is super expensive! It's my special celebration cup!"

""Your money back?"

"Yeah! You're dressed up all nice, I bet that suit costs more than my rent."

"Oh, really?" Bruce was amused one. You were feisty, clearly. "And what makes you think that?"

"No one walks around Gotham dressed like that, unless they're rich, powerful, law agents, or I don't know, Bruce Fucking Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"

You scoffed, shaking your head and gesticulating a lot with your arms.

"Probably! I mean, it's not like anyone has ever seen the guy, but let's be honest, he probably dresses in expensive as fuck silk, or like, placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies or something."

You only seemed to get better by the second.

Bruce placed a hand on his chin, truly intrigued by your line of thinking.

"Placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies?" He had to admit, this was pretty amusing. Did you have any sort of filter? If so, he never wished that you turned it off.

"Maybe – I don't know – It's Bruce Wayne, so who actually does know? Maybe he's running a society of baby-shitting placenta. It's Gotham. One day we have masked vigilantes jumping off roofs, and the other, bomb threats. Regular Tuesdays for us Gothamites. But the real question here is," you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. "What are you going to do to repay me my very well-earned 10$ worth of iced coffee?"

Bruce was just about to reply, when a very familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne!" Lucius's Fox deep timbre was unmistakable, and Bruce turned around to offer him a polite smile. "I'm happy to run into you, there's a few things – " He took one good look at his boss's shirt and grimaced. "Hell, Mr. Wayne, how'd that happen?"

The younger man turned around to glance at you. Poor, poor you, with eyes even wider, and a matching mouth. You blinked several times, looking from his shirt to his face, and from his face to his shirt.

"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot to introduce myself," he put a hand forward, offering you what you thought was the most dazzling smile ever. Geez, women must basically throw their panties at him.

"Bruce Wayne. Baby-shitting-placenta cult leader."

You blinked a few more times, wishing the earth swallowed you whole. You'd literally never done anything wrong in your life. Sure, you talked trash about Suzy Carpenter's sweater in 8th grade, but it was warranted – it did look like vomit – and you had stolen a yogurt from a coworker once, but surely that did not warrant running into Bruce Fucking Wayne of all people, spilling coffee all over his clothes, and accuse him of eating placenta. Maybe Suzy still held a grudge.

"Mr. Fox, how about I stop by your office later today? I'm quite busy this morning. Have something to do."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne. I'll be patiently waiting." Lucius gave him and you an acknowledging nod, before walking away.

You were still staring at Bruce, completely at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? Was there anything at all you could say?

"I – Mr. Wayne, I – Well, I'm – I," you stuttered and stuttered, and Bruce could only chuckle, before shaking his head. He looked to his left and took a few steps, opening a door before him.

"After you."

Confusion took over your expressions. What was he up to? Where was he going?

"I promise not to kidnap you into a placenta cult," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You looked at the name written in green letters on the glass. "Coffee House". "I believe I have a cup of coffee to make up for?"

He offered you a very subtle version of that dazzling smile of his, and you couldn't help but return in kind.

"I'm not going to apologize or kiss your ass or anything," you told him.

"That's fine," Bruce shrugged, "I didn't want you to."

You pondered your options.

You didn't know this man. But someone had called him Mr. Wayne, and now that you take a good look at him, he does look like the face gossip magazines and tabloids love to splatter on the cover. And he really did not look like he meant any harm.

And you really wanted a cup of coffee. "Alright, Mr. Placenta Cult Leader."

It did not take long for Bruce to fall in love with you, with your kindness, with your looks, with your beautiful personality. You always maintained that feisty attitude of yours, refusing to treat him or anyone in his world differently simply because you were now a part of it.

And Bruce loved it.

Loved how you couldn't care less what other socialite families thought of you, eating chocolate covered fruit after chocolate covered fruit at fundraisers, loved the way you latched onto him and "claimed" your property so to say whenever other women approached him and tried their luck (not that it would've worked, this man was whipped for you), telling other, more arrogant seniors off whenever they made judgements on yours, or Gotham forbid, Bruce.

But above all, he loved you,

And he made sure to show you just how much whenever possible. He wasn't the best with words, never had been, so he tried to show his devotions through actions. Breakfasts in bed, gentle caresses while you cuddled together on the couch, copies of your favourite books, soft kisses pressed against the hollow of your throat while he brought you to a climax with his fingers. Bruce would never stop showing you his love, for as long as he lived.

Alfred was very fond of you too.

The two of you had gotten along very well immediately after your first meeting, with Alfred telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from Bruce's childhood. You laughed and replied in kind, and the two of you sort of teamed up to make his life a living hell (in the best way possible), teasing him to no end and cursing him with the worst jokes known to mankind.

Alfred too could see you were the one for his boss.

Saw it in the way Bruce looked at you, like everyone else in the world was gone and the only thing that mattered was the shine in your eyes. Saw it in the way he bent over to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle out loud, just the way he saw Thomas Wayne do with his wife.

Saw it in the way Bruce paced holes into his study, pondering on what ring to get you. He bothered him to exhaustion that day, wondering about the colours you'd prefer, what size and shaped rock to get you, how, when, and where to propose.

"It has to be perfect, Alfred," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing incessantly. "I can't just pick any ring. It has to be meaningful. Her birthstone? No. No, absolutely not, that's lame. It's lame – it's dated. She wouldn't like it. Maybe she doesn't even like her birthstone. A diamond. A diamond! No. Out of the question. What if she doesn't like diamonds?"

"If I may give you a piece of advice, sir?" Alfred asked. However entertaining it was to see the mighty Bruce Wayne freak out over an engagement ring, this man was still his boy, and he couldn't bear to see him distressed. "If I recall, it was in your mother's will that her ring was to be stored and kept locked away in the possibility of her passing. I believe it is stored away in her old jewel box, as she was never buried with it. She wanted you to have it."

Bruce's eyes softened, as they often did at the mention of his parents.

"My mother's ring?" he asked to which Alfred nodded dutifully.

"It has been in your family for more than 6 generations now. Your mother wanted you to have it."

Some mixed feeling akin to grief and love passed through his eyes, and Bruce found himself staring at the floor. His mother's ring. A family heirloom, passed on from generation to generation. And now it was his. And would become yours. A million thoughts could've crossed through his mind. "Should I give something this important to her?" or "Is she the right person for this ring?" or maybe even "This is far too important. I need to think twice before making this decision".

But surprisingly, the only thought that came to him was "There is no one out there more deserving of this ring than her".

It was endearing, really, and Alfred Pennyworth was more than happy to see the boy he'd watched grow and loved as his own become his own man, and finally find the love he so much deserved.

When you got home on a warm May night and showed off your ring to him, smiling from ear to ear, eyes red and makeup slightly smudged from the tears you'd no doubt shed, he hugged you tightly and wished you all the best. He was sure the late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would've loved you, and his eyes teared up at the thought.

Bruce caught sight of this and made his way towards the older man, worried that something might be wrong, the answer almost made him cry as well.

"It seemed like only yesterday I was patching your arm up after a rough fall, Master Wayne. And here you are today, carrying the legacy of your family, a man of your own, about to embark on this beautiful journey that's marriage. I am so very proud of the man you have become, and I'm sure your parents would too."

The two of them hugged warmly. Alfred was the only person besides you who got to see the more vulnerable side of Bruce – well, rather, you were the other person beside him. Having grown up with only his butler, Bruce saw him as a father figure. Sure, he'd never be able to replace his actual dad, but Bruce looked up and admired Alfred very much, considering him part of the family. No one seemed to care about him as much, and he was forever grateful.

That very night, you three toasted with champagne, sharing stories and anecdotes from Bruce's childhood, your relationship, and making plans for the future. And after Alfred had long retired for the night, Bruce took you in his arms, carried you off to his bedroom and made sure to remind you over and over again just how much he loved you.

After the engagement, Bruce told you about his double identity as Batman. You'd never suspected it – you were both responsible adults, each had your own job and errands to run. Not to mention that Bruce was the CEO of a whole company. To you, it was normal if he had to cancel one or two dates, or if you went a few days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, and sometimes it made your heart ache, but you were a busy woman yourself, and always found yourself surrounded by things to do; hobbies, errands, work – you always had a lot going on, so Bruce's absence felt normal.

He was afraid you'd leave him, but in true you fashion, it just made you even more in love. The man you adored more than anything and wanted to spend the rest of your life with was the one keeping Gotham safe at night. You begged him there and then to show you all his cool gadgets, teach you how everything worked, and your mouth watered at the possibility of having sex in what you called "the Batcar".

"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.

"No – that sounds terrible. Hmmm... Batengine?"

"It's called the Tumbler, and that's all. No Bat prefixes."

"No – no, it doesn't work like that. It needs a name. Oh. OH – Oh, holy fuck. Okay, get ready for this." You placed your hands in front of you, smiling. "You ready?"

"Just get on with it."

"I was just making sure you were ready. Okay listen. The Batmobile."

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

You looked at him.

Bruce looked at you.

And then he made your wish come true, carrying you off towards the Batmobile.

Later, when you were curled up in his arms, you grinned, placing a cheeky kiss on his jaw.

"You're wearing the suit next time.”

Your engagement was happily lived.

You and Bruce tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, wanting to enjoy some time together away from the prying eyes of Gotham, but as soon as one photographer caught you taking a spoon to your lips, and the beautiful diamond ring caught in the light, it was over.

“So much for privacy,” you muttered, collapsing on your couch, gripping the latest gossip magazine. The words “WAYNE HEIR TO FINALLY SETTLE! Billionaire playboy finally tamed!?” were plastered on the cover, as well as a big picture of you hiding your face with your left hand as Bruce brought you close to him. “I wonder if they’ll ever leave us alone.”

“Probably not. You’ll get used to it; it comes with the name.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and sat up straight, taking a sip from it and humming in delight.

“This is real good. Did Alfred make it?”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I would make a good cup of coffee?” Your fiancé asked, sitting beside you. One hand snaked around your waist and brought you closer, and the other softly flicked your nose.

“You burned the coffee beans last time you tried. I don’t even know how that’s possible, Bruce,” you sighed.

“I did my best.” Was his response.

“Maybe stick to being Bruce Wayne by day, and Batman by night. I love a good alliteration, but you were not meant to be a barista.”

Bruce chuckled and kissed you, tasting the sweet coffee off your lips. He hummed, gazing at you through his dark lashes.

“You’re right, this is good. Most likely wasn’t made by me.”

“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”

“You are such a hater,” Bruce sighed, playfully kissing your nose. “I’m never making you any more coffee from now on.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.

“Is that a promise?”

Bruce just shook his head and bent down to kiss you. You smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to give your waist a good squeeze, causing you to flinch.

“Stop that! I’m going to spill this all over the couch!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time – I recall someone spilling coffee all over me and somehow making it my fault,” Bruce joked, raising a quizzical brow. You smiled fondly at the memory. It was your favourite story to tell.

“You weren’t watching your step. It wasn’t my fault.”

“You bumped into me.”

“No, you bumped into me because you weren’t paying attention. And then you made me spill your coffee all over you.” You smiled and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you felt him chase after you, capturing your lips with his own once again.

Brushing his lips against yours, he murmured, “And I’m glad I did. I got to meet the love of my life that way.”

“You’re so corny, Bruce Wayne. I wonder what the public would think of you if they saw you like this.”

“I don’t care what the public thinks of me as long as you’re by my side.”

You smiled, and so did he. Truer words had never been spoken.

Now that you knew he was Batman, you worried more often.

What before was considered simply a “busy night for Mr. CEO” was now “night out in Gotham, fighting criminals and possibly getting injured”. You found yourself pacing circles around your bedroom, biting on your nails, and hoping that Bruce would come home soon.

You’d asked Alfred for some tips – how could he appear so relaxed knowing that the boy he treated as his own son was out there, doing what he did? Knowing that he put himself in the face of danger so often and sometimes with no regard for his own life?

“It’s hard, Miss,” he told you over a warm cup of tea. “But in the end, Master Wayne knows what he is doing. And now he has one more reason to get back home safely. Everything will be alright.”

And thankfully, he usually did.

You two had a sort of unspoken deal.

Bruce would always wake you up whenever he returned, even if just to let you know he was safe and home. Sometimes, you’d wake up, insisting on checking him for bruises and marks, and even going as far as patching them up.

“The kitchen has better lighting, c’mon,” you mumbled, voice still coated in exhaustion. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you made your way towards the kitchen to deal with his bruises. It was routine, at this point. Bruce sat down, you opened your first-aid kit, you two had a snack and went back to bed. It was domestic, in a way. Not really something a regular couple would do, but you and Bruce had never really been regular.

“You’re lucky that one isn’t big,” you said, pointing towards the purple bruise forming on top of his right pectoral. You’d seen worse – sometimes he came home with bullet wounds, or deep gashes on his skin. Not that this was any more reassuring, but you were just glad that compared to other nights, he didn’t seem to be suffering too much. “It should heal in a few days, as long as you keep applying the cream.”

“What would I do without you?” he asked, with a soft smile. This is how you knew Bruce had truly returned home. Some nights he’d be far too tired to speak, choosing to kiss you and softly touch you to remind you of his love. Others, he would lock himself up in the Batcave, somehow convinced he wasn’t worthy of you. Of course you offered to talk to him, to help carry his burdens, but he never wanted to drag you into that side of his life, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.

Right now, though, he seemed to be doing fine. He told you patrol was rather easy, there were no major criminals out, and that nothing was wrong. His smiles and chuckles meant that Bruce, your Bruce was back.

“I don’t know,” you said, moving to open the fridge. As soon as you did, you turned away from it and gagged. “Shit – that’s disgusting,” you said, closing the door and shaking your head.

“What?” Bruce turned to you. “Is there something wrong?”

“I think there must be something rotten in here, it smells foul. Fuck, it smells so disgusting, I think I’m going to vomit,” you mumbled, moving away from the fridge as quickly as you could. Bruce got up right after and carefully opened the door. Nothing. Nothing seemed to smell rotten – nor it would make any sense if it did. Alfred was always on top of groceries, and never in his life he recalled a moment where something was rotten or went to waste.

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you. “I can’t smell anything bad.” Searching through the items, he opened and closed lids, smelling whatever was inside. Everything seemed to be intact.

“Are you serious? It smells disgusting – close that door!”

“Honey, I can’t find anything in here that smells bad. Maybe you’re just sensitive or something.” Bruce closed the door and walked towards you, wrapping you around his arms. “We should go to sleep. It’s late.”

You nodded into his chest and allowed him to carry you back to bed.

As you drifted off to sleep, you thought of how nice it would be if every single day was like this – patrol-wise. Bruce would come home with barely any scratches, you’d take care of him in about 10 minutes, and before you knew it, you’d be back in bed, hugging him tightly against you.

Unfortunately, the future held other plans.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Dark Knight himself,” a very familiar voice said.

Bruce turned around and faced the familiar mask of the Scarecrow, the man he knew to be Dr. Jonathan Crane. And he seemed to be in top shape – last time he’d seen the bastard, he was mumbling incoherently and out of his mind. How he’d gotten himself out of Arkham, Bruce had no idea, but he was sure to send him back there in no time.

“Crane.” Bruce said, ready to fight at any time. He knew Crane used a special toxin to induce fear in his enemies, and although he was immune to it, he had no idea what other people he’d convinced to do his dirty work. Had no idea if he should suspect any surprise attacks and did not want to take chances.

“You know, it’s funny that I find you here, especially after all the… studying I was doing just last night.” Crane paced around the alley, trying to get Bruce’s – the Batman’s – attention. “I was thinking, what is the big bad bat afraid of?” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretended to be deep in thought.

“Cut the crap Crane,” Bruce all but spat, “What do you want?”

Crane – the Scarecrow – however, did not seem in the mood to stop.

“At first, I couldn’t quite get it. After all, you’re just a man,” Crane put extra emphasis on his words. Bruce saw right through him. He wasn’t the first one who tried to make him feel helpless. “But then, it hit me.”

The Scarecrow kept walking around, weaving a narrative to get into Bruce’s head. The latter one stood his ground. He had half a mind to slam Crane against the nearest wall and just hand him over to the authorities, who’d already been called and were on their way, but part of him wanted to hear whatever the maniac had to say.

He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him stirred. Crane looked carefree, relaxed. What had he done?

“Tell me, Bruce,” he said the name with a twisted kind of glee, something that made Bruce’s stomach drop unpleasantly. “Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?”

What?

How did he know about him?

Most importantly, how did he know about you? Had he investigated you? Put the pieces together? Had Bruce accidentally left any sort of clue that led him to make the connection?

“Ah – right,” Crane said, removing his mask and offering Bruce a sadistic smile, “You thought no one would figure out your little secret, would you, Batman? How unfortunate.”

In about a second, Bruce was close to Crane, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.

“What have you done to her!?” He snapped, anger clouding his judgement.

“Ah, ah, ah! Now, don’t be crass, Bruce, we’re both respected men and can do this the hard way or the easy way. And I would hate for someone to find out your little secret. Wouldn’t you agree?” The man smiled mockingly, making Bruce’s blood boil.

“Who knows!? Who have you told?” he roared. All judgement and common sense had jumped off the window. Bruce remembered his training; remembered how he was told to keep his emotions at bay. Use his head, not his heart.

“This is where things get complicated now, Batman.” Crane spoke calmly. “I’m the only one who’s aware of your little secret.” Bruce almost sighed in relief. “But that can easily change. Help me get what I want, and I won’t tell a soul. Do anything to stop me, and I’ll let the whole world know who’s hiding under the mask. And believe me – every Arkham inmate would like to know.”

Bruce lowered the Scarecrow onto the ground, breathing heavily. Jonathan Crane knew his identity, knew who he was, where he lived, knew who his wife was. If he didn’t play this correctly, you’d be in great danger.

Reaching towards his pocket, Crane pulled out a small phone.

“In here, I have all the information about you, and the Missus. If you cross me, call for backup, or do anything that would sabotage my plan, I’m sending this file to every phone in Arkham City.”

Bruce weighed his options. He had to be careful. Get the phone out of Crane’s hands, lock him up –

A loud gunshot could be heard through the alley, and the man with the mask in his hand fell on the ground. It took a while for Bruce to understand what was going on, but Jim Gordon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I didn’t say you could shoot –“

“Sargeant, we’ve been after Crane for months now, I wasn’t going to let him go this easily!” A younger man in a GCPD office called out, moving towards Bruce and the now dead body lying on the floor.

Jonathan Crane was dead. The Scarecrow was dead. The only person who knew his secret was now dead. Instinctively, he bent down to pry the phone from the dead man’s hands. With a few clicks, he realised he wasn’t bluffing. A message with a large file entitled THE BAT was ready to be sent at any time. Bruce deleted the thing and destroyed the phone with his bare hands.

That had been close.

Too close.

The GCPD had killed Crane, and while normally Bruce would be against the killing policy, part of him kept thanking whatever inexperienced officer had decided to shoot him.

That was too close.

Crane had said no one else knew of his identity. What if he was bluffing? What if the phone was just a means to threaten him, meanwhile, everyone back in Arkham already knew?

“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at Jim Gordon’s worried expression. “It’s not often we see the Batman worried.”

“He knew who I am.”

Gordon took a step back – quite literally – eyes wide as he put his hands on his hips.

“Did he now?”

“He was going to tell everyone in Arkham City should I not help him along with his plan.”

Both men remained silent, staring at each other, before Gordon turned to look at his officers.

“I know you stick to your no-killing policy, but maybe this one was for the – “

The Batman was gone.

“ – Best.”

He’d spent the night at the cave, terrified to return to you.

What was he going to do?

Jonathan Crane had found out about him, so who’s to say someone else wouldn’t? Sure, the average criminal could not simply put together that he was Bruce Wayne, but there were always going to be people like Crane, who held big grudges and had a very high intellect.

It was simply a matter of time before someone else found out about you.

And Bruce couldn’t have that.

He ran Crane’s words over and over again in his head.

Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?

He was right. While he was out at night, protecting the city, you were at home, with no one to protect you. He couldn’t bring you along – that was out of the question. And he couldn’t confine you to some secluded area. He knew you’d get upset that he was treating you like a baby, assuring him you could take care of yourself just fine.

You couldn’t.

Bruce had to protect you. He had to keep you safe, out of harm’s and criminal’s ways. Tonight, it was Crane, merely threatening to tell everyone about you. Tomorrow, it could be someone doing good on their promise.

He tried hard to think of what to do.

And the only idea that seemed like it could work, made his heart ache immensely.

He loved you. He loved you more than what he could possibly say. It tore him apart to be away from you, it broke him to simply think of hurting you.

And yet, it would keep you safe.

Bruce loved you.

So, so much.

He loved you so very much, that he was willing to do whatever he had to keep you safe from harm.

It would break his heart, yes. And yours too, surely. But after tonight, he couldn’t risk it. He would go the lengths of the earth to keep you safe and sound. He made his way towards the Manor and thought over his plan.

There was no way you’d believe him if he ever told you he did not love you. No, that wouldn’t work. You knew him far too well to know when he was lying.

He couldn’t say he was trying to protect you either. One thing he loved the most about you, was your stubbornness. If he told you all he was trying to do was keep you safe, you’d laugh in his face and promise you some measly criminals did not phase you. It warmed his heart, in a way, to know you’d stick with him through thick and thin, but it also made him worry.

What could he possibly do to keep you away from him?

And that’s when it hit him.

You had to see it.

It wasn’t an ideal solution – hell, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to even think about it. But if it would keep you safe? Bruce was willing to give it a try.

You’d gotten home earlier from work. Bruce knew this. You were supposed to get home around 6 and a half on Tuesdays, but it was currently 6 and you were already hanging your coat by the door.

“Good afternoon, Miss.” Alfred said with a polite nod, hurrying to your side. “You’re home earlier than expected.” A lie. Bruce had spoken to your coworkers earlier, and they’d told him you’d be off work sooner than expected. Alfred was in on the whole plan as well. It didn’t please him one bit, but he knew once Bruce got an idea, he would go through it until the very end.

“I told you to stop with the ‘Miss’, Alfred, my name is fine. It’s been fine for four years, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for the rest of our lives.” You smiled at him. You’d been trying to get Alfred to use your name for all the years you’d been dating Bruce, but to no avail.

“I’m sorry Miss,” he replied. “Old habits die hard. And please, allow me. It’s part of my job.”

“You’re family, Alfred. What would it take for you to call me by my name?”

“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”

“I’ll see that he takes care of it right away.”

Alfred smiled as you turned to make your way towards the bedroom, and when you were no longer facing him, your expression turned to one of sadness. Was this really what it had come to? Was he about to go on with this?

He didn’t want to, but there was no way he was going against his boss’s rules.

Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.

“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”

“Oh,” you hummed, “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him to return.” You continued walking.

“No, Miss – he’s in his office. He’s told me not to disturb him, nor let anyone do it, since he’s working on some very important projects for Wayne Enterprises.”

Weird. Bruce never shut you out, even when he was busy. Sure, he might have things to do, but he would always keep his door open should you want to talk to him, or just kiss him.

“Well, that’s fine, I’ll just say hello to him and go take a shower.” You offered Alfred a smile and turned to instead walk towards Bruce’s office. “Did he tell you what work? He never mentioned anything about a project. Is it new?”

“I’m not sure Miss.” Alfred said, his heart beating slightly faster now that you approached the office’s door. He knew exactly what to expect once you opened the door, but it didn’t really make it easier. “He told me he was going to be busy all afternoon, told me not to go in, and closed the door.”

“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”

“I suppose so, Miss.”

You furrowed a brow. Odd. And it’s not like he told you anything at all – letting you know he’d be busy or working up until late.

“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll go check up on him. He must be really tired,” You said, and approached the door. And now, you were even more confused than ever. Weird sounds were coming from inside the office. You could make out two voices – Bruce’s, of course (you’d know his voice from a mile away), and a female one.

What in the world could Bruce be possibly doing behind locked doors with a woman?

You stilled, straining your ears to better make out the noises coming from inside. And you flushed deep red once the realisation hit you. Grunting, groaning, moaning.

No.

It couldn’t be, now, could it? There was no way.

You turned around to face Alfred, whose face seemed to go white as a sheet of paper.

“Y-You said he locked himself inside and sent you away?” You asked.

“Yes, Miss.”

“O-Okay.” You mumbled, facing the door.

The voices got louder. The female voice got higher and shriller, and tears clouded your vision. You mustered up all the courage you could find in yourself, and burst the door open, gasping loudly at the scene before you.

A naked woman was lying on top of your fiancé’s desk, cheeks flushed and hands desperately clawing at his back – Bruce’s back. He was on top of her, hand hidden in the crook of her neck as he groaned, rutting faster against her.

You stilled in your place, completely paralyzed. There were no possible words to describe what you were feeling now. Anger? Heartbreak? Sadness?

The woman let out a loud moan and wrapped her legs tighter around him.

“You like that?” Bruce grunted, lifting his head to look at the woman, who replied with another broken moan and a tug of his hair.

“Bruce?” you said, heart breaking in a million pieces.

He looked up. Really looked up, staring into your eyes. Inside him, something broke as well. He was doing this for your own good. For your safety. He had to keep you away, had to give you the life he knew you couldn’t have as his wife. It was too dangerous.

“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly getting away from the woman on the desk. He stared at you, dumbfounded, scrambling around to quickly get his clothes.

“Hey – hey – what are you doing?” The woman asked, looking at him, before turning to you and her eyes widened. “Oh!”

You scoffed, looking in between the two, and stormed away, tears running down your cheeks.

“Honey!” Bruce called. He quickly managed to put on a pair of pants, and ran after you, heart pounding in his chest. You were mad. This was really happening. He was going to forever ruin the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and all because of the Batman. He’d betrayed you and broken your heart.

But it was for your own good.

“I can’t believe this,” you said through gritted teeth, walking towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. Bruce was able to catch it right before it shut closed, and the expression in your face was sure to haunt him forever. Your lovely eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and red. Your tear-streaked face was something Bruce had never wanted to see in his life – at least not when it pertained to something bad.

“Honey, please, it’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded, walking towards you.

You were quick to move aside.

“Don’t give me that not what it looks like bullshit! I saw you Bruce – God damn it, I saw you with another woman.” You said, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably. “How could you!?”

“Look, darling, if you could just let me explain –“

“Oh! Explain!” You hurried inside the closet, fetching one of your travel suitcases. There was no way you were staying inside this house – his house – any longer. You needed to get out. Needed fresh air, needed to get away from him. “What is there to explain? How you were balls deep inside some woman you’ve found somewhere? Oh, really nice, Bruce, lovely explanation!”

“You have to understand –“ Bruce explained, in between shallow breaths. “You weren’t supposed to find out, you were supposed to be at work.”

“Ah, yes. Of course I wasn’t supposed to find out.” You scoffed and busied yourself with throwing clothes inside your suitcase. “That much I know.”

“I’m sorry – “

“I’m sure you are.”

“I didn’t want it to come to this!” Bruce snapped, and you finally turned to him.

“Come to this?” Your voice was low, frail, frightened. Fuck. What was he doing? What was Bruce doing? Was this worth ruining your relationship over? Yes. Yes – of course it did. If it meant you’d be safe. Everything was worth it if you were safe.

You’d have your heart broken, yes. But in a few months, maybe years, you’d find someone else. A nice, normal man, with no secret identities and no secret life. You’d find a nice man and settle down. He would give you all his time, worship you like you deserved to be worshipped. Would take care of you and love you, and never put you in danger.

And you’d be happy. You’d be so happy; you’d have long forgotten about the asshole Bruce Wayne, who’d cheated on you and broke your heart.

“Yes, come to this.” He repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to have ended this long ago, and yet I let go for far too long.” Bruce tried to force some venom, some harshness into his words. He wasn’t used to talking like this to you, nor did he want to – but he had to try.

“What do you mean?” The clothes in your hands were long forgotten, and you just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I just – look, I hate to do this right now, and in these circumstances, but…”

“But?”

“We can’t be together anymore.”

Your eyes widened. What?

“I can’t keep lying to you. I don’t love you anymore.”

These words hit you like a truck.

Didn’t love you anymore?

“What?”

“That’s right.” Bruce sighed, trying to keep his composure. “This relationship is a mistake. You’re holding me back, and I just don’t love you anymore.” His voice was devoid of any emotion, while inside, he could feel everything slipping out of control. He loved you. How could he say such things? How were such words leaving his mouth?

“You – you don’t love me anymore?” You asked, eyes tearing up once more. Your breaths were coming in shallow; you couldn’t breathe, nor believe the stuff you were hearing.

“I don’t. I’ve been miserable – miserable – in this relationship,” He said your name, running a finger through his already unkempt hair. “I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Propose, settle down, get married – I can’t do it. I don’t see a future with you anymore. Please, you can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same!”

“No! I can’t!” You didn’t sound like yourself. You sounded sad, broken, out of breath, completely terrified. You thought your life with Bruce was going very well. You loved him, and he loved you. Yeah, okay, maybe he had some more work to take care of as of late, but that didn’t warrant a breakup. Did it? “We – we’ve been so happy, Bruce!”

“Fuck – I don’t love you anymore! This, this – this relationship is killing me here! I can’t keep on doing this, can’t wake up and pretend to be your Brucie, or a family man, or God forbid, someday your husband!” Bruce was fighting hard to keep his emotions away from this. Instead, he channelled all that energy into pretending to be angry with you. He put all the anger he felt towards the outside world and every criminal in Gotham, into this fake argument.

And by the look of your face, he was doing a good job.

“How… How long have you been doing this?” You whispered. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. Weren’t sure if you wanted to know how long your husband had been betraying you, sleeping with some other woman. Or women. It made you nauseous just to think of that.

“I…”

“Just tell me, Bruce!”

Bruce sighed, looking away.

“Three months.”

A choked sob was ripped from your throat, and you grabbed the nearest thing – a shoebox – raising it above your head. There were a million thoughts racing through your head, a million emotions plaguing your mind. But before you could throw the damned box at his head, you ran into the nearest bathroom, puking your guts out.

The whole situation made you nauseous alright.

As soon as you’d puked whatever you had to, you got up, washing your mouth and your teeth. Then, you turned to Bruce. He was standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking at you with a mixture of sorrow, disgust, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You couldn’t stare at him any longer.

“I’d appreciate it if you left the Manor until the end of the day,” he said, looking at the ground. “I would like the master bedroom to be clean of your things.”

How could he speak like this? How could he say all of this after everything you two shared? Every word, every kiss, every touch? Had it not meant anything to him? Clearly not, by the way he was behaving.

You wiped your tears (unsuccessfully, since they just kept on rolling down your cheeks), and walked towards your closet, proceeding to stuff your clothes inside the suitcase. Just as you were about to shut your first suitcase, Bruce interrupted you.

“I’ll have someone else take to you the rest of your things. Just take that right now.”

You stood up, turning to him. First, he cheated on you, then he admitted to not loving you, then he broke up with you, and now he was kicking you out at full force.

You sneered.

“Where the hell am I supposed to stay, then? I live here.”

“Lived. Not live. You don’t live here anymore. Just get a hotel room somewhere, I’ll pay for it. But you have to go.”

“Why? So you can go back to fucking your new girlfriend?”

“Precisely.” The bite in his words shocked you.

There were no words. No words beside three little things you’d never thought you’d utter at the man standing before you.

“I hate you. I hate you, Bruce Wayne.” You said, tears cascading down your cheeks and marring your so lovely face. “Everyone warned me about you, but I didn’t listen. I was too in love with you to care about what anyone said.”

Bruce still refused to meet your gaze. He was sure that if he did, he’d break down too. And he was close, too close to let all of this go to waste.

“Should’ve listened to them.” You whispered.

And walked out, suitcase in hand.

“Alfred, make sure you take her – “

“I’ll see to it myself, thanks. I don’t need your help.”

With these words, you were out the door, and out of Bruce’s life.

As soon as you were no longer in vision, Bruce broke down.

He sat on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. You were truly gone. Forever. He’d done what he had to, and now you were gone. It was for the best, yeah, but that’s not to say it didn’t hurt.

Alfred quietly walked into the room. The sight of his boss leaning forward, looking absolutely miserable was a low blow. Finally, he’d found a source of happiness, of peace, of solace. Finally, he’d get to see his boy grow up, start his own family.

But all of that was over now.

He wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle and congratulate Bruce on his wedding day. He wouldn’t be there to see him drop to his knees when he found out you were carrying his child. He wouldn’t get to teach Bruce all the little hacks he learned from caring for him as a baby, wouldn’t get to tell your child the charming love story his parents had.

Master Wayne was miserable before you.

He was sure he’d get worse now.

“Master Wayne, I’ve sent Miss Roberts on her way.” He said quietly, standing on the doorway.

“Did you pay her?”

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

“She won’t tell a soul.”

The two men remained in silent for a while. Alfred did not know what to say. He understood where Bruce was coming from. He’d tried to talk some sense into his young master’s head, but to no avail – Bruce was going through with this madness and that was it. He’d tried telling him it wouldn’t matter; you loved him and would remain by his side forever, but he wouldn’t hear it.

In his head, this was the only solution.

“She’s going to be fine,” Bruce mumbled, dropping his hands, and looking at the ground.

“You’ve broken her heart, sir.” Alfred replied.

“She’ll be fine, Alfred,” Bruce retorted harshly. “She’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and she will be safe and that’s why we’re doing this – so she’s safe!”

The older man closed his mouth. There was nothing else he could do or say. It was done, and there was no turning back.

“Will you be fine, Master Wayne?” he asked at last.

Bruce did not answer right away. He shook his head, and Alfred swore he could make out the shape of his shoulders shaking ever so slightly – was he crying?

After a few moments, Bruce finally managed to calm himself. He took a deep breath, quickly wiped away any tears that might’ve escaped, and nodded, still avoiding his butler’s gaze.

“I will be. All that matters is that she’s safe. I’ll learn to be fine.”

“Is there anything you wish, sir?”

“No, you’re dismissed.”

And so, Alfred walked away, leaving Bruce to think the last few minutes over.

He’d lost you, sure.

But he would keep an eye on you from afar. Protect you from a distance. Make sure you were doing alright and that no harm had come to you. He’d be a silent protector.

And although he was hurting, he would bottle up his emotions.

Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.

But keeping tabs on you had proved to be quite harder than what Bruce expected.

You’d gone completely off the map, off-grid. You’d forsaken social media and most electronics and were doing a fantastic job of keeping away from his prying eyes. He knew for a fact you’d left Gotham, but to where, he did not know exactly. His sources told him you’d probably changed your identity, not wanting to be seen as Bruce Wayne’s ex-girlfriend anymore, wanting a life of your own.

At first, Bruce was terrified.

If you changed your identity and moved away, how was he supposed to protect you? This whole thing was meant to keep you safe – how was he supposed to live without knowing if all of his and your suffering had been in vain?

“Master Wayne, I understand your concern for the Miss’s well-being.” Alfred had told him one night as Bruce was drowning his sorrows in some very-expensive liquor. “But sometimes, we must respect the choices people make for their own safety.”

“What if something happens to her, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice raspy from exhaustion and the drink. “What if she’s in danger and I can’t reach her? What if this whole thing was for nothing?”

“Sir, part of caring for someone is respecting their decisions. Dr. Jonathan Crane is long gone, and you yourself told me the information he had died with him. There is no one after you or the ones you love anymore. And most important, there is no one after her. If she’s changed her name, it only means she’ll be safer.”

Bruce sighed. Alfred was right to some extent – as he usually was. Crane was dead, and he hadn’t told anyone about you. Changing your name and your identity would probably keep you even safer.

“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”

“I know, Master Wayne. I did too.” Alfred sighed, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “But you did what had to be done, now, didn’t you? You said it yourself. She is safe, and that’s all that matters.”

Bruce tried to follow that mentality.

For months, he tried to forget you.

Unfortunately, not only had you wormed your way into his heart, you’d done the same thing to his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, swearing he could feel your lingering touch, hear your heavenly voice.

During meetings, all he could think of was how you’d usually send him funny texts and memes you found on your lunch breaks. He no longer got your calls, telling him all about the gossip you’d heard at your workplace, and how much you missed him.

The manor felt empty without your touch, your laughter, your presence. Just the mere existence of your toothbrush was enough to calm him down, to remind him you were there, and real, and his.

But he was left with nothing.

You’d gone, and with you, taken his heart.

And yet, despite all the pain, all the heartbreak, life went on.

Days passed; seasons changed.

The daily cycle continued, interrupted.

The sun rose and the sun set, a small reminder that life waited for no one. Alfred told him many times that he couldn’t dwell on the past, and while he tried to, it was hard.

Winter became spring, spring became summer.

And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.

He tried to move on – really, he did. But he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it. He didn’t think of you as much anymore, but he also didn’t think of much else. It was as if he was numb to the outside world, going about his daily routine as Bruce Wayne and his nightly duties as Batman automatically.

It was as if he was on autopilot. Charity galas were boring without you to make fun of everyone, fundraisers sucked if you couldn’t talk to whoever was interesting and get him to have a good time.

Life went on, but it was as if his had paused.

Alfred did his best to keep him in check. Did not allow him to go without any meals, made sure he attended whatever events he had to, and patched him up after rough patrols. He too missed your presence but knew better not to mention it to his boss. All he wanted was for the young master to go back to the person he once was.

One day, he was on his way to Wayne Enterprises. It was late in the morning, but as the CEO of the company, he could afford to be late once or twice. Not only that, but it was also only natural for Bruce Wayne to be fashionably late – even if it was to his own job.

The car suddenly came to a halt. Something underneath Bruce seemed to deflate, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.

“I’m sorry sir, there seems to be something wrong with the tires. Perhaps you could go out and check?” The butler replied with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”

“Not nearly, sir.”

“How unfortunate. Well, I’m quite comfortable here, so why don’t you check it yourself?”

Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.

After around 5 minutes, he looked inside the limo and sighed.

“I’m sorry sir, but we have a flat tire. But we also don’t have a spare one in the trunk, so I’ll have to call someone.”

“Really?”

“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, waving his newspaper dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go by foot.”

“Are you sure, sir? It’s still a few blocks away. Perhaps we should wait until someone comes to fix it. And what if something happens to you?”

Bruce gave his butler a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, to which the older man just sighed.

“Alright, fine, you stubborn, stubborn man.”

Bruce chuckled and exited the limo, quickly making his way down the street.

It would be good, clear his head of all the torment. Walking gave him peace, made his mind feel at ease. It was as if a burden as lifted off his shoulders, even if momentarily.

Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.

He was busy looking around himself – eyes trailing the balconies of older Gotham buildings, taking in every person, every door, every window, every life that lives inside each apartment – to notice the figures before him.

But once he was content with the things he’d seen (and decided to organise some sort of charity event, since his city needed him, especially the older streets, with decaying buildings and lives he were sure must be hanging by a thread), he looked up.

And what he saw stole his breath away.

You were standing a few meters away from him, pointing at a shopwindow that had caught your eye. A friend stood by your side; arm linked with yours. He couldn’t care less about her, eyes focused on you, on the big summer hat resting on top of your head and providing shade to your face, on the beautiful smile you wore, on the way your lips moved as you spoke animatedly, on the lovely white dress you adorned.

But most importantly, his eyes were focused on the pretty swell of your belly, and on how one of your hands cupped it lovingly, and the other trailed circles on top of it. He eyed the swell of your breasts that had grown larger, the way your entire being seemed to glow. Not from the sun, just entirely from you.

Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.

You were back. Back in Gotham, back in his life, back to him.

Don’t be an idiot – surely, she’s not back for you.

And how beautiful you looked, hand protectively over your belly. How dazzling, how breathtaking, how shining.

Without even realising it, Bruce stepped forward, eyes glued on your figure. You didn’t seem to notice him, still paying attention to the store in front of you. He could make out the small chatter you were having with your friend – and how much he’d missed the sound of your voice, the lovely musicality of your laughter – it made him feel lighter, fuller, happier.

“I like the blue one,” you said, turning to your friend, “And it’s rather big, so I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”

Your friend seemed to agree with you, “It’ll last for a few months, yeah. But the yellow one is pretty too, don’t you think?”

“Please. A Batman onesie? The last thing I want is my son to wear one of those. He won’t even know who he is, anyway, it’s not like I’m raising him here.” You scoffed.

The girl you were with chuckled, and only then did she notice Bruce, standing far too close.

“Um,” she poked your arm, and you turned to him.

It was as if the whole world faded away.

Your whole story played on your head. Your first meeting, spilling coffee all over his shirt, having a coffee bought by him, the countless dates you went on, dating, moving in together, living what you thought were your happiest years ever, getting proposed to, and eventually finding your husband fucking someone else.

You quickly dropped your gaze to your stomach before looking at him once again and taking a step back. It was stronger than you, an instinct to get away from this man as soon as possible.

"Hey," the words were tumbling out of Bruce's mouth before he could control himself.

When you didn't reply, he took another step forward, making you step back again.

"I have nothing to say to you," you mumbled, looking at your friend. You whispered a quick "let's go” to her and turned on your back to leave. Before you could do it, the man called out your name. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the worry, the heartbreak, the grief.

Tch, you thought, what is there for him to grieve?  You're the one who lost your relationship, your home, the chance for your child to meet his father.

"Please, listen to me," he said, and you saw in his face such vulnerability it scared you. You didn't remember the last time you'd seen Bruce like this, face looking as if he was holding on by a threat.

You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.

"Did you not hear her?" Your friend came to your rescue, hand protectively over your shoulders. "She doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave it."

Bruce wondered if she knew him. If she knew what he'd done. Had you told anyone? Had you kept it a secret? Might've been hard to do so –  after all, tabloids had loved to exploit his breakup, plastering it all over every cover of ever magazine in Gotham. He'd paid them off to spare you from the spotlight and public eye, but it was too late. People had already begun talking; and what they were saying wasn't polite at all.

"You need to listen to me," he said softly, "You need to listen to what I have to say."

What was he doing? What was he saying? He shouldn't even be talking to you, should be keeping his distance like he'd been doing the past few months. His head told him to stay away – to turn around, go back to the pain and the sulking and the sleepless nights between empty sheets. But his heart was reaching towards you, hoping so desperately that you'd reach out too and save him from the torment he'd been living.

He knew he had no right doing this. He'd hurt you terribly – but it'd been for a good reason, no? He'd kept you safe long enough, hadn't he?

Was it selfish of him to want you back?

Because he did – desperately so. He missed your warmth and your touch. He missed your smiles in the morning and your giggles in the evening. He missed the way you scrunched your nose whenever you took a sip out of his coffee – black with one sugar. He missed the way you walked around with nothing but his shirts on when Alfred was out, teasing him to no end and relishing in the way Bruce's breath hitched when his eyes landed upon you.

But most of all, he missed the way you always comforted him and promised everything would be alright. He missed your tender touch and your warm embrace. Missed your love, and the effect it had on him.

He needed you back.

That much was certain, and he had no doubts about it.

He couldn't bear to be without you any longer. He would keep you safe – God damn it, he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did, but he couldn't be without you anymore. He couldn't live his days inside a Manor that seemed so dull without your shine, eat at a table that seemed so quiet without your chatter, and sleep in a bed that seemed so cold without your body next to his.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"There's nothing you could say to me that I would possibly want to listen," you said. But your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were sure if he were to strain his ears just a bit, he'd listen to how fast it was racing.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."

Bruce's heart fell. He was about to lose you again. He couldn't. His hand dropped to yours, and he held it tightly in between his palms.

"Please," he all but begged, "Just listen to what I have to say. And if you don't care about it, if you don't like what you hear, if you want to go, I'll let you."

"I don't care. Happy? Now let me go."

"Please."

The way he said it made your heart churn. His face was the epitome of heart break, eyes sagged, with deep dark bags under them. You knew Bruce hardly got any sleep as Batman, but this seemed too much. And there was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were some sort of mirage that could disappear within seconds.

You couldn't quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was your hormones feeling nostalgic. Perhaps it was curiosity, making you wonder what the hell he had to say to you that's so important.

Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.

And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.

As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.

"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"

It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.

Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"

It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.

Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.

"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"

"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.

"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?

"May I ask why, sir?"

Bruce beamed.

"We have company."

Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.

On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.

On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.

Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.

"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.

"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.

The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?

"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.

"I think we can manage."

You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.

"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "

"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."

With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.

Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.

"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.

"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."

"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,

"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"

"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar –  something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"

"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.

You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.

"Please, do sit down."

You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"

Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.

"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."

"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.

Still home.

"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.

"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?

"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"

You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."

Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.

"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."

"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"

Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?

No, not bitter. You were right, after all.

"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."

"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.

"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."

"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."

"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.

"I just need to tell you what really happened."

Another sneer.

"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."

"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."

"Tempting."

"But please, just let me speak."

"Okay."

Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?

"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."

The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.

"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."

You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."

"I ran into Crane."

It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.

"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.

"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."

Your face was pale with worry.

"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"

"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."

You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.

"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."

In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?

"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."

"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,

"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."

"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.

"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."

The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."

"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."

Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.

"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."

"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"

"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."

"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"

"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."

"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."

"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"

Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.

"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"

"By breaking my heart."

"It had to be done."

"It didn't.

"I was thinking of you."

"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."

"You left me!"

"I was protecting you!"

"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"

It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.

"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."

"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"

"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.

"Is the child mine?"

You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.

"You have no right to ask that."

"Please. Just... Is it mine?"

You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.

"Yes," you mumbled, softly.

Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.

"When did you find out?"

"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."

"Him?"

"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."

Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.

"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."

These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?

"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"

Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."

"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."

"You don't love me anymore?"

"That's not what I said."

"So you do?" A hint of a smile.

"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."

"I understand."

Bruce sighed and stood up.

"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."

Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?

"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."

Your eyes widened.

"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.

You looked away at the ground.

Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.

"Have you been with anyone, after..."

"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."

You nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you like to feel your son?"

"Huh?"

"He's kicking. Would you?"

Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.

"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."

You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.

"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...

"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."

You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.

"But... I'm willing to try."

Bruce's head shot up.

What?

"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?

"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.

And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.

It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.

"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."

Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.

"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."

It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.

"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"

He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.

"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."

He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.

"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."

He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.

"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.

You replied in kind.

"Please."

And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.

His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.

You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.

When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.

"I love you." You spoke.

"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."

You smiled.

Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.

You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.

But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.

You'd finally found each other again.

A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!

So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.

So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.

A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"

This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.

I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.

I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.

Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3

[winterrrnight]

congratulations on 100! i love your works and i’m very excited for your future ones 💘

could i please get a before the coffee gets cold; rafe with number 11?

ahhh thank you sooo much!! <33 you've been so supportive throughout it all and that just means the whole world to me 🫶🏻🫶🏻 this fic, it's so different than what I usually write, so it's definitely experimental. I'm nervous about what kind of feedback it will receive, so I really hope you like this!

I can't get enough

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: Rafe simply cannot get enough of you.

WARNINGS: intimate moments between reader and Rafe, but they aren't written with a sexual intent, fluff (kinda tooth rotting fluff 🫢)

EDITH SPEAKS: this is either very well written and one of my best, or it's so cringey and horrible that all it's traces should be removed from the internet. which one do you think this is 😃

PROMPTS REQUESTED: "I know I've kissed you like, 10 times, but just like another 10, please."

100 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

The moonlight shines in through the curtains, cascading a sliver glow throughout the entire room. You're lying on the bed with Rafe sitting in your lap, as he leans in to press kisses against your lips. For a moment, his lips linger on yours for more than just a few seconds, and you feel his heavy breathing mixing with yours, your limbs entangled with his.

You gently pull back and hold his face in your hands, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes. He closes his eyes at your warm touch, just feeling your hands trace his skin.

Rafe holds one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to your palm, slowly kissing up your arm and reaching your shoulder. You giggle when you feel his hair tickle your cheeks. He now reaches where he had started: your lips.

With swollen lips and a heavy heart, you pull Rafe back from you. He looks at you with a pout.

"What?" You giggle at his cute expression.

"I just want to keep on kissing you right now, you just look so kiss-able," he says softly. You gently intertwine your hand with his, your gaze never leaving his.

"I don't think that's a word," you mumble, your other hand moving to his hair and your fingers instantly twirling the strands of his silky hair.

"Let me just. . ." he whispers, attaching his lips back to yours and you smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. You take in the taste of the apple pie he had just less than an hour ago, his own sweet taste mixing with that of the pie to create a symphony of a sugary mess.

When you both feel yourself running out of breathe, Rafe pulls back again and just looks at you. Your hand now rests against his waist, and with a gentle push, you help him get off your lap. He lays next to you, and you instantly lay your head on top of his chest, your fingers tracing shapes onto his bare skin.

Even in this silence, Rafe's lips just cannot leave your skin. He's pressing butterfly kisses to your forehead and cheeks constantly, whispering little sweet nothings to you with each kiss.

"You're my everything, you know that right?"

"I cannot think of living a life without you."

"You and me, forever and always."

"I love you so much, I'll do anything for you."

You let your eyes flutter shut as you feel heat rush to your cheeks on hearing these words. His relaxed voice creates a calm aura around you, all your body muscles relaxing immediately.

You look at him to see him already looking at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I've kissed you like, 10 times, but just like another 10, please," he says, his hand resting against your cheek. You press a kiss to his bare chest and shift yourself in his lap.

"I think you've kissed me a lot more than just 10 times," you giggle, "but yes, kiss me some more. Please." His lips are pulled in the biggest grin and it doesn't even take him a second to pull you so close to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he wishes to never let you go.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff

[untilwedont]

Sleep Well, Dear

I Love You Forever

Pairings: Ethan Landry x Male!Reader

Summary: In which reader falls asleep on Ethan after a long week of studying

Warnings: Mentions of not eating, reader being very sleep deprived, Ethan being a good boyfriend

A/N; Im sorry im writing so much ethan landry fics ive just been so obsessed with him lately 😭

It was finally edging towards the end of the first semester. This was great since your college gave you a break, but with the semester coming to an end came finals week. This was really important to you because you wanted to make sure you passed every class with a good grade. You decided it'd be a great idea to start studying two weeks before finals week, putting all your mental health needs behind you and your studying in front.

It was the first day of studying. You sat in the very back of the library so you wouldn't be so distracted from all the other noise by other people. You read the time on your phone '10:15 AM' You hoped you'd get at least a few hours of studying done before you called it a night. You made sure to tell your friends & your boyfriend where you were incase they wanted to study with you.

What was supposed to only be a few hours turned into wasting your whole day on studying. You checked your phone again, thinking maybe only a couple hours passed.

3 missed calls from 'Mi amor 💘"

1 missed call from 'TaRAAA'

3 messages from 'SAmmm'

'2:15 AM'

Your eyes widened, "Shit, how long have I been in here?" You mumbled before finally looking up from your phone, noticing that the library was empty. Your eyes had been so glued to your textbooks that you hadn't noticed everyone in the library left. You rubbed your hands on your face, your tiredness finally kicking in. "I'll just message them tomorrow, I'm sure their asleep." You thought to yourself before packing up your things and leaving.

'7:15 AM'

You were back in the library once again, disregarding the fact that you hadn't eaten a full breakfast. You only had a granola bar before leaving your dorm. You only got 5 hours of sleep last night but that wasn't important to you. "Okay, this time I'll only be in here for a few hours." you mumbled before opening your textbooks, diving right back into studying.

'9:07 AM'

You checked your phone and saw a message from Ethan asking if he wanted to hang out with he and Anika. You messaged him telling him you'd be able to hang out in a few hours and to just give you time to study a little longer. You gave him a time and he messaged you with a thumbs up emoji and you set your phone back on the table, gluing your eyes back onto the textbooks.

That time was supposed to be '3:00 PM' but when you looked at your phone once more, it read '9:10 PM' What the hell? How did time pass by so quickly? You quickly packed your things and left back to Ethan's dorm, knowing he'd still be awake.

You knocked on the door, Chad being the one to answer it instead of Ethan. "Hey um, is Ethan still awake?" You asked the tall figure in front of you. "Oh, yeah he's still awake. He's in his room. I think he might be a little bummed but not sure why." Chad told you and you nodded, walking into the dorm. You knocked on Ethan's door before walking inside. "Hey, Eth? You awake?" You asked as you opened his door. You saw him sitting on his bed with his phone in his hand, the Tv being the only thing that casted light.

He looked up from his phone and immediately got up after he saw you. "M/N, where were you? I thought you said we'd meet at 3?" He asked before putting his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. "Sorry, I just got caught up in studying. I didn't expect time to pass by so quickly, honestly." He pulled away from the hug before studying your face.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" He asked, examining the slight bags under your eyes that you hadn't realized you had. "Of course, why?" He shook his head, "Uh- no reason, just asking.." You nodded before kissing him on his lips, "Okay, well I'm gonna go get some sleep. I'll hang out with you tomorrow, okay?" You spoke, holding both his hands in yours. He nodded, "Okay, go get some sleep. I love you." He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your nose. "I love you too." You laughed before leaving the dorm, going back to yours.

A couple days had passed and your sleep schedule was getting much worse. You were hardly eating and the most sleep you got was 2-3 hours. Eyebags developed under your eyes and your friends started to become worried about you. You spent most of your day in the Library instead of with your friends. You spent some of your time crying in the library, your mental health getting worse.

Your boyfriend finally had enough of your sleepless nights and decided that if you weren't gonna let yourself sleep then he'd have to force you. He went to the library to find you since that was most likely the place you'd be at. He ran up to you when he saw you, closing your textbooks. This startled you, causing you to immediately look up, relieved to see your boyfriend. "Eth, what're you doing here? You stared the shit out of me. Also, what time is it?" You asked, checking your phone.

'11:37'

"It's time for you to get some proper rest. Pack your things and get up, we're going to my dorm." He told you, helping you put away. "Wait, what? But-" Ethan cut you off, "No but's, M/N. You haven't been getting any sleep. Also, when was the last time you ate a proper meal?" He asked you, very concerned for your mental health. It took you a second to think, "Maybe.. a week ago? I've been living off of granola bars." You told him, not realizing how much you'd been starving yourself. His eyes widened for a sec before pulling you out of your seat. "Alright, I'm gonna get you something to eat before we head back to my dorm. What do you want, hm? Mcdonald's? Pizza?"

An hour passed and you were finally back at Ethan's dorm. You finally had a full stomach instead of having a half-empty stomach throughout the week. Ethan pulled you towards his room and laid out a pair of warm clothes for you. You put them on before laying down on his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He wrapped his around yours as well, "You aren't getting up until you've gotten more than 6 hours of sleep, okay?" You mumbled back a 'okay' before closing your eyes, falling asleep within an instant.

Sometime had passed and you were still knocked out. Ethan had been up for a little, admiring your sleeping face, slowly scratching your back. He was interrupted from his door opening. He looked up to see Chad, and before he was about to speak, Ethan softly spoke to to him, "This is the most sleep he's gotten in weeks. If you wake him up I will kill you. Literally." Chad put his hands up in defense before walking out his room, softly closing the door.

Ethan smiled before turning his attention back to you. You seemed so peaceful in your sleep. He softly kissed your head before closing his eyes, falling asleep once again.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

IN HIS DEFENCE YOUR HONOR, HE IS JUST A SILLY BOY

I'll just drop a little art here, keep doing what you're doing, you're doing amazing! You write so well and I can only imagine the effort it takes to pull out these chapters, so please take care of yourself too!! I've already absolutely word-vomited how much I love your work and hyukin I'll do it again-

The way that all of the brothers react to Leo is just so believable and heart-wrenching and oh my goodness poor Raph give the poor boy a break- The recovery arc that hopefully will come is gonna be a long journey (Probably more Dr. Delicate touch than Dr. Feelings slapping some of that self-sacrifice out of Leo-). Also, the sibling sense needed to make both of the climatic scenes in your fics during the Thanksgiving parade is just great, I swear it's like that sometimes though.

At the start of chapter 22 he isn't Void he's Leo. He is coping with these events as Leo. Only when he realizes that it's all real does he slip back into the Void mask. We as readers can see the literal struggle between Leo and Void through his ninpo, as it seems like (correct me if I'm wrong, or don't lol) it burns the krang infection, it seems like the only thing that can actually hurt the infection. Leo is extremely damage-resistant to the point that even nonconsensual amputation isn't really an issue to him but ninpo seems like the only thing that can genuinely hurt him. Even if I'm completely off with this whole rant, it's so cool to see how the story unfolds, trying to figure out the limits of your universe is an amazing experience.

Every time you update I feel so glad that I can see the story unfold in real time. I can't wait for the next update, but don't feel like you need to push yourself for this fic, you're doing great, especially with the quality of what you write! Maybe it's a little repetitive at this point, but really I find it absolutely unbelievable what you are able to do and I admire your ability to write such convincing narratives.

Anyways, please take the silly boi :D

THANK YOU YOU'RE SO SWEET!!!! it makes me so so so happy to hear that you're enjoying both perspectives, because it's very fun to write and i love to explore what everyone might be feeling ;w; and i'm having a LOT of fun exploring Ninpo. I'm a little sad we didn't get more of since the show ended right after the Shredder fight, but I like to think that there's nothing like it-- something unique just for them 🩵

AND THANK U FOR THE FANART AHHH 🩵😭💞💘💗‼️

[imeanitplsmorenamifics]

OMG BLESS YOU FOR YOUR WORK HERE 😭💘💘 I'm starving for more Nami fics as well and I'm so glad I found you. Plus your writing is delightful omg. <3

I just have to drop by and make a request of my own now 🥺 could I please please have some Nami hurt/comfort? I feel like she needs it so much. I was thinking of something along the lines of right after the ending of season 1, Nami has had feelings for the reader for quite some time now but was too scared to act on it, especially because she was afraid of what Arlong might do if he found out she cares about someone. And now that she's finally free of Arlong, Nami realizes that she doesn't know what to do, because she never had something real like that, someone she cares about and actually wants to do things right with. Nami thinks the reader wouldn't reciprocate her feelings, so she's basically in this state of admiring and longing from a distance, until maybe something happens and they are alone together, and the reader is being all soft and gentle with Nami (insert Nami being touch starved here because I jus know she is), and Nami gets like, all emotional 🥺 and the reader is worried and asks what's wrong, if she did something wrong; and Nami finally admits that "I'm sorry I don't know how to do this, but I like you so much"; and then just Nami getting all the hugs, kisses, love, and reassurance that she so deserves. ❤️

I'm sorry that was a little big 😭 you can change anything you want, I'd just love some angst/hurt/comfort with her. Thank you so much already. <3

Hi! And thank you so much! I was tired of the lack of Nami fics and couldn't stand it anymore. I needed content and I was going to make it myself if I had to 😭. Don't worry about it being long, it actually gives me a lot more to go on when writing so I don't mind it! I would be more than happy to write this for you so I hope you like it! This felt like more of a headcanon request to me so I wrote this has a headcanon post. If you want an imagine/oneshot instead, message me and I'll rewrite it! Also, this has some minor spoilers for the Alabasta arc so if you don't want to be spoiled for it if you're not far then I would advise that you don't read this. Flower Asks Hozier Asks Taylor Swift Asks Masterlist Rules Taglist Request Characters: Nami, Fem!Reader, Arlong (mentioned), Strawhats (mentioned), Vivi (mentioned), Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Chopper (mentioned) Pairing: Nami x Fem!Reader TW: Trauma, fears of one-sided feelings, angst. That's all I can think of but tell me if there's more!

The Art of Pining

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

The last thing Nami needed was to fall in love. Her life was too stressful and too dangerous to have any kind of relationship. Being forced to work with Arlong to buy back her village would do that to a person. But, somehow, some way, she ended up falling in love with you.

She tried to deny it. She really did. But it was impossible for her to deny being in love with someone as amazing and beautiful as you. You had somehow captured her heart in a way no one ever had, despite not even knowing each other for that long.

Guilt was mostly what she felt when she realized there was no pushing those feelings down. She felt guilty for unintentionally putting you in a risky situation. She felt guilty for not being able to deny herself of something she really wanted to keep you safe. Still, either way, there was no way she could be with you. Not with Arlong still around. Especially not while she was working with him.

There was a part of her that was worried about what you would think when you found out she was only going to betray you and the others when the time came. She only joined up with the crew to have her hands on the map of the Grand Line. If she got some money and jewels along the way, it was a bonus. There was still a tremendous amount of remorse she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt you. But that was what was needed to keep you safe.

So, she revealed herself to be working with Arlong during Luffy’s fight with him at the Baratie. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you. She could already feel the look of betrayal and hurt on your face without even facing you. A pang was sent through her heart at just the thought of seeing that expression so she avoided looking at it altogether. Still, as she was walking back to Arlong’s ship, she managed to catch the smallest glimpse of you. The look you were giving her was one that would be seared into her mind for as long as she lived.

Quickly, she covered up the feelings she had let slip through onto her face. She didn’t need Arlong to be suspicious of her. That would only put you in danger if he found out about her feelings toward you.

She honestly didn’t expect to see you again after that. She thought that you and the others would walk the other way, licking their wounds, hating her for doing what she did to them. She was more than shocked when she showed up at Coco Village just to see you and the others there. Nothing could stop the panic that she felt upon seeing you there. This was too close to Arlong. You were too close to him. This would get you hurt.

So she did what she had to do. She said whatever she could to make you guys angry or sad enough to leave her alone. She put as much false hatred into her words as she could to get the point across… But you all just wouldn’t leave.

After Arlong worked with the Marines to take the gold she had been stashing, she thought that was the end. But as she lay broken on the ground, knife in her hand, wound on her shoulder where Arlong’s symbol was etched, she was met with you and Luffy. Both of you staring at her with no judgment, understanding was in your eyes. While Luffy was the first to take off to fight Arlong, you stayed behind to tend to her. You treated her wound as gently as you could and gave her all the care that she had been lacking. What a horrible time to feel as she did toward you.

To her shock, Arlong managed to be defeated by Luffy. For the first time in a long time, Nami was free from him. She could do whatever she wanted, go wherever she wanted, and speak with whoever she wanted without fear of having to leave them behind.

You’d think that with this opportunity, she would go for it with you. She would try to see where things landed and tell you how she felt. None of the sort happened. Something inside her still stopped her. The threat was no longer there so why did she hesitate?

It was fear. She was scared that you resented her for betraying the crew like she did. She was afraid that if she told you how she felt, you would laugh in her face and reject her. Nami had never felt love and care since Bellemere died. All she had been met with was manipulation and abuse. What if she put herself out there only to get hurt in the end?

Time passed and she still couldn’t bring herself to tell you how she felt. Eventually, the crew met a princess named Vivi whose country was falling apart. The crew agreed to help her. Everything started out rocky but seemed to get even worse when Nami got sick. Everyone was worried for her, but you seemed especially worried.

Nami was in and out of consciousness the whole time. But every time she would regain consciousness, you would be there, taking care of her. It was almost like she never left her side. Then, when she woke up in Dr. Kureha’s castle, she found you asleep at her bedside. That’s when she found out that you had, in fact, never left her side.

You took care of her while she was unconscious. The others had to beg you to get something to eat, to shower, or to at least sleep in your own bed. When they had to take Nami up the mountains of the Drum Island, you were one of the first ones to volunteer to come along. When they said you couldn’t come, you snuck your way with them, joining them and not listening to them when they said to go back. They got too tired of fighting with you and it was already too late at that point so they relented.

It warmed her heart to hear everything that you did for her. It made her wonder if you did actually feel something toward her. She could’ve been connecting dots that weren’t actually there, but a small part of her hoped that it was true.

So when you woke up, she took the chance. Dr. Kureha could sense that it was an intimate moment so she left you alone and had Chopper tend to the other two so you could be alone. You were thrilled to see her awake and fine, you practically tackled her in the biggest hug.

When Nami finally managed to get a word in (you fretted over her for the first few minutes, it was hard to get a word in), she spilled her feelings. She told you she didn’t know how to say it but she loved you and she has been in love with you for as long as she’s known you. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she didn’t, she couldn’t deny it.

It was silent once she was finished. She was worried that she did make up everything. That was until you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you locked eyes with her and said one thing, “I was waiting for the day you would say that.”

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Taglist: @3v37773, @marvellousdaisy

[in-my-loki-feels]

🔁😂💯💘📚

*cracks knuckles* Here we go! From this ask game.

🔁 A fic you’ve re-read several times

This feels like an impossible question because I've re-read quite a few. I narrowed it down to a few options, but I'll save one of those for if I get asked the 😭 question and offer a full fic rec and two drabbles.

touching the horizon by @astrosxnthesis

"Have you been wounded by the Loki S2 finale? Then you may be entitled to compensation in the form of fics that pick you up, dry your tears, and offer solutions." This fic fits that bill! It's sweet, funny, has delicious emotional hurt/comfort, and it's a clever take on how Lokius could be reunited.

2. It's no secret that I love President Loki so I've re-read a lot in that tag. Allow me to highlight chapters 30 (SFW) and 66 (NSFW) of For All Time? Always by chaircat (not sure of their tumblr name).

Not only do these both feature President Loki, but both (definitely the second, but also the first imo) are Loki/Mobius/President Loki, which I find very fun. 😈 And there's just not enough of it!

😂 A fic that made you laugh out loud

Footsies by @devilbearingtrouble

I rarely laugh out loud when reading (though I might be chuckling to myself), but the way the tension builds so innocently in this one set me up so that when I hit one line in particular, I actually went, "Ha!" out loud. Love it when writing can do that. 😂

💯 A fic that makes you think #writergoals

This one's easy! I was just thinking along these lines while reading @doomed-spectacles latest, Paper trail. Or, traces of you. Just, wow. Their blend of humor and tenderness and spice floored me. The prose rendered me speechless. It's the kind of fic that, after reading, makes me sit back and go, "What am I doing with my (writing)life?" And I mean that in the best way possible!

💘 A fic you couldn't stop reading once you started

Kneel for Me by @ceeceetv. I saw the post while I was getting ready for bed and even though my partner had already put his phone away and gone to bed, I stayed up and kept reading because I. Could. Not. Stop. I knew if I tried to save it for the next day, I was just going to lie in bed, unable to sleep, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I'm still not done thinking about it, to be quite honest!!

📚 A fic you wish you could display on your bookshelf

I love this question because to me, it's about picturing what the fic would look like if bound, and I think your spirit box would have the raddest cover and super cool interior illustrations, a la Starling House (but maybe I'm influenced by that also being a book with a sentient house.)

I feel like I need to give a special shoutout to The Storyteller Saga by @kcscribbler because after @izumiyagami14 went and made the dang thing a real book, how could i not want that on my shelf??

[healmydesires]

a week with ml <3 💫

Since I’ve hit a new followers milestone recently I thought I’d do a little celebration thingy! I truly , still can’t believe it… words truly can’t express how grateful I am for the love and appreciation I’ve gotten on my fics over the past few months. I don’t know how this happened because I never thought that my fics would ever get this much love or any type of attention 😭 so truly, thank you so much to anyone who’s been joining me on this journey! 💘

In honour of reaching a new milestone, I’m hosting a celebration! Everyone can join from 17 november - 26 november <3

you can send as many prompts as you’d like, but please send them separately hehe <3

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ────────

🌙 : send me this and I’ll make a little/mini moodboard based on your blog or how I perceive you!

💒 : send me a prompt + a character that I’ve written or want to write about and I’ll write a little blurb about it!

🪽 : music! send me a music recommendation and I'll send you one back!

🪷 : send me your sun, moon and rising sign and I’ll match you with a character I’d ship you with! (please specify the fandom(s) you’re in and your pronouns/gender!)

🫧 : send me something fun or interactive; something like fmk or this or that or would you rather, anything you can think of really!

thank you and have a lovely day/night <3

tagging some mutuals/friends below the cut (some of these mutuals/friends only know my main so this might come as a surprise for some of you 😭)

@sweetercalypso @pinkpunchline @strang3lov3 @swiftispunk @stargirl-writes @antxlss @luminoustarlight @joelscruff @joelmama @ker0senebunny @ghostlyfleur @queenie-official @walkintotheriveranddisappear @stvharrngton @inkluvs @katiexpunk @inklore @starbeltconstellation

[jayflrt]

HELLO!

I like your work a lot like it's genuinely Hilarious so I thought you would be the best person to ask for this.

I want to make a writing tumblr for enhypen but I'm a little lost because I've never used tumblr (as a creator) before LOL just used twitter and AO3 to write/socmed for fictional fandoms (tbh this is my first time like being a proper fan of a kpop group as to occasionally liking a song or two).

Anyways! What I've gathered from my experience on twitter and the writers I've followed here is obviously your blog should have an intro about you (inc. what you're comfy with, what you write, etc.) and a master list of your works BUT some of Tumblr's mechanics are Confusing.

Like,

1) should I create specific tags for my asks?

2) on twt, usually you create a tweet like "Hi! New to #___twt, looking for moots blah blah" to get an initial burst of likewise new people to bond and communicate with, does it work similarly here and if so/not please elaborate TT

3) is the etiquette to reblog every work you like, or is that spammy and you should just like them?

4) is there any other advice you have for navigating tumblr (like odd quirks)

5) ALSO this is a small dumb question but in the fandoms I've been in until now we usually used socmed au instead of smau do you have any idea why that's different (low-key smau is smarter tho bcus it's a shorter abbreviation)

I think that's all. I tried going through your rules and intro again, but I didn't see anything on whether an ask like this was alright or not, but I hope it is! I didn't want to Like intrude, but I felt most comfortable asking you because you're also desi ❤️❤️.

Anyways!! If this is something you don't want to/don't feel comfortable answering or it's like annoying genuinely just ignore this, I don't want to be make anyone uncomfortable!

omg thank you so much ml, i'm so glad you enjoyed my works!! 🥹 welcome to the kpop community first of all!! did you recently become an engene? :') and welcome to the tumblr ff community too! honestly i feel like if you can navigate ao3 just fine then tumblr shouldn't be too difficult after a while but i'm sure it's confusing at first 😵‍💫

as for your questions i'll answer them in the same order you asked them:

1. honestly i'm not 100% sure if there's any real purpose behind specific tags for your asks other than organization personally LOL but it's pretty helpful if you want to go back to look through your asks for something instead of scrolling past all the posts on your blog !!

2. omg yes i love the twt intros 💗 honestly for tumblr i think i just started posting content right away whenever i made a blog 🤧 i think intros are usually just in your navigation anyways but if you want to talk to different authors then it doesn't hurt to send an ask!! usually people communicate with different authors via the ask box 🥰

3. all sorts of interaction is great but i think reblogs are preferred!! i typically use likes as my bookmarks and then reblogs to comment on work or share it to a wider audience. the algorithm for tumblr works so that your likes don't show for others (unless you make it public on your profile) but your reblogs are on the dashes of people who follow you

4. ooh i'd say make use of the tagging system!! using tags like #enhypen fluff or #enhypen x reader on your fics will make it easier for people to find your work 💘

5. HAHAH I USED TO CALL IT SOCMED AU TOO BEFORE I JOINED TUMBLR 😭 i still use social media au as a tag but i think smau is more widely used here!! not exactly sure why but im guessing its just easier to tag 🙂‍↕️ i get you tho bc i experienced the same culture shock

dont worry you're most welcome to send asks !! 🥰💘 and thank you for reading my rules and intro!! i definitely don't turn away anyone who's looking for advice <33 also omg fellow desi 🫶 welcome to enhablr !

[morningstarwrites]

Hiii it me!!! 🖖

Just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you and your wonderful brain exist! The combination is quite lethal if all the responses to your fic are anything to go by - in a good way of course hahah!!

Also I probably said that too many times already but I’m still so very happy you like my art and that you’ve pinned it on your page!

Seeing your fic getting more and more recognition partly due to the many amazing artworks you’ve received so far makes me immensely happy! Being able to witness the growth of that kind is a once in a lifetime thing!

I am certain it’ll reach even more people in the near future because it’s such a delightful but easy-flowing read, your story, which makes the slow burn less slow and more burn-y (can I say that? I do not know English slang lol)

tl;dr - ✨ T H A N K 💗 Y O U ✨

As Free Guy would say: “Don’t have a Good Day, have a Great Day!”

🫶🫶🫶

Se7en! You are the sweetest soul, I genuinely don't know what I did to deserve you 😭😭

Will forever be grateful bc you have been integral in my fic-writing motivation, tbh! This is so silly but actually I noticed in your ch. 6 fanart Alastor didn't have his coat on, so I went back and rewrote my chapter to remove his jacket HAHA

I'd probably gush about you all day so I'll refrain for now - but thank you so much for dropping by and brightening my day 💘

[vintagelacerosette]

Tag game catch up ✨️

I'm doing some tag games & picrews I've missed 🫶🏼 and I was tagged by these dearhearts Macy @celestialmickey Cross @crossmydna Evie @energievie Laurel @lupeloto Anna @rereadanon Ling @lingy910y Cherry @too-schoolforcool Ajax @transmickey Lyle @milkovetti Vey @look-i-love-u Coralie @shinygalaxyperson Becki @francesrose3 Ri @tanktopgallavich Jay @surviving-maybe Michelle @michellemisfit Deanna @deedala Julissa @heymrspatel Paola @mishervellous Melodie @sirrudo Thanks y'all 🥰

Name: Myn

Pronouns: She/they

Where do you call home? Sydney

Favourite animal: Cats, ducks & otters i can't choose 🐈‍⬛️🦆🦦

Cereal of choice: Gosh I love american cereal I gotta say I'm now a cinammon toast crunch fiend & lucky charms used to be my fave haha

Are you a visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner? Kinaesthetic/visual

First pet? A tank of fishes but I also count a black & white stray cat we took in which we named Gato & oh how i miss him

Favourite scent? Something woodsy or citrusy

Do you believe in astrology? Kinda like I believe some aspects but wouldn't take it so literally in life

How many playlists do you have on spotify/apple music? I'm not one for playlists but I do have like 8 music ones on youtube lol

Sharpies or highlighters? Hightlighters all the colours yall 🌈

A song that makes you cry:

A song that makes you happy:

and finally, do you write/draw/create? if so, use this as an opportunity to shamelessly (😉) promote yourself! Yes I draw & make crafts which you can check out on my tag myn's art 💘 I also definetly gunning to write fic omg the amount of gallavich plot bunnies I have may be in the double digits??

Picrew 1

Last week tag game tuesday ✨️

Name: Shermyn

Age: 26 (27 in 12 day!!!)

Favorite color: Pink

Beverage of choice: Yukult I shot em back like shots lmao

Do you have push notifications turned on for tumblr? I do & for some ppl's blogs too. It can be a lot lol

Opinion on fireworks? Pretty & loud 🎆

Favourite childhood toy? This stuffed bunny I had since I was a kid which I use play pretend like they were real & to pet it so softly 🥰

The store you shop at the most: uhhh maybe ubereats lol does that count 😅

Do you swear a lot? As an aussie fuck is like a brother to me

Favourite trope: Sexual attraction at first sight then falling in love

An album with no skips: Infinity on High by fall out boy

If you could play any instrument, what would you choose? something whimiscal maybe a lyra or ocarina or a steel drum

Your biggest pet peeve: Getting told I'm being disrespectful bc I have a tone that was 'hard'

Favourite time of day: Sunset

and finally, did you drink water today? Yes indeed!

Picrew 2

I'll still tag some loves if they wanna play 💘 @ian-galagher @scarcrosseduntouched @bekkachaos @sisitrip @darthvaders-wife @suchagallabitch @iansw0rld @arrowflier @milkmaidovich @auds-and-evens @callivich @mikhailoisbaby @creepkinginc @mikcrymilkovich @sleepyfacetoughguy @suzy-queued @gardenerian @sickness-health-all-that-shit @stocious @shameless-notashamed @mmmichyyy @xninetiestrendx @intotheblindinglight @skies-below @notherenewjersey @psychicskulldamage @silvanshadow

[seospicybin]

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

And happy Alentine's Ay to to anyone who didn't get any V or D on this special day. Eitherway, I have just the 8 fics to make your heart fluttering. (Also, as an effort to beat the allegations that I only write sad fics!)

I curated a playlist of my favorite love songs here 💘

THINNING. Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

It's a classic friends-to-lovers. I surprised myself because I personally thought Chan wouldn't fit that trope. Why? Because I would catch feelings right away without being his friend first. fyi, this fic is inspired by a Reddit thread.

Fave quote: "But people oftentimes hide behind the 'actions speak louder than words' and that makes them okay with love left unsaid. No one is a mind reader. If you love someone, they want you to verbalize how you feel. This is real life, not a chess game."

PEACH. Lee Know x reader. (s, a whole lot of f)

The idea was born from the fact that Minho likes strange smells (e.g gasoline, concrete, etc) and he likes them because they hold certain memories for him. It's a one-shot with a sprinkle of breeding kink. One of my favorite old works of mine and there's a cameo from Soonie.

Fave quote: “You are one ripe, juicy peach,” he said against your lips, “and everybody wants a taste.”

PIED PIPER. Changbin x reader. (s,f)

I think I created a dangerous Changbin in this fic but do I regret it? Not at all. Think of campus bad boy Changbin who knows how to seduce you just right. Seductive and a little messy, just how I like it.

Fave quote: "One more look in the mirror and he gets the assurance that he doesn't need to be insecure about his body, he knows he'll never fit into everyone's standard but he feels good about himself. That's why girls are crazy for him. He is so sure of himself and it shows."

ONE DANCE. Hyunjin x reader. (s,f)

I never wrote a fic this fast. It's smut with a simple plot and not going to lie, I loved it so much. I'm writing the full fic on this from the mc pov, hope I'll be able to release it soon. And oh I recommend listening to Frank Ocean's Pyramid as you read it.

Fave quote: "His worry replaced with the guilt of ever doubting your feelings for him, but on top of that, he feels the happiest to know that you are his. He's indeed so lucky to have your love for free."

DOTING. Han x reader. (s,f)

It's dorky, awkward, and bizarrely cute (?) I got inspired by an episode of Black Mirror that I come back to from time to time. I promise you it has no grim ending, but you'll learn a lot of new random facts from reading it.

Fave quote: "If humans truly are made of star stuff, he believes you are made from the brightest star in the universe because he refuses to believe that he is made of the same thing. As he stares at your body he changes his mind almost immediately, he believes you are made of outer space and he wants to explore."

GODSPEED. Felix x reader. (s,f,a)

It tells about a relationship that forces one to be out of its comfort zone. I tried to capture every bit of Felix in it and it's my favorite Felix fic second close to Twin Flame. I know there's angst in it but trust me, the pain is worth it in the end.

Fave quote: "You can’t stay stagnant in a relationship just because it feels comfortable. You were too comfortable and that was why the space scared you both."

ONE PROPOSITION. Seungmin x reader. (s,f)

Do you also think that love is just... yuck??? If yes, then let Seungmin change your mind. It's cute but not on the cringe side (or I hope so) it's rom-com worthy and Seungmin is so Seungmin in it with his square shoulders and he's a good kisser and and and...

Fave quote: "Love is some hocus pocus shit, got you completely bewitched."

MILK. I.N x reader. (s,f)

Just like the title itself, a love story that is so simple and sweet. It doesn't have, let's say, 'the happiest of ending' but I like it how it is. A love that asks nothing, it's as pure as milk.

Fave quote: "They remind me that there are still some innocence and purity in this world. And the way they see the world with so much curiosity and full of wonder, I wish I could relive that again,” he said with a sigh.

“To experience everything for the first time all over again,” you added while looking up at the blue sky."

-

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Remember that the greatest love of all is the love you have for yourself, or that's what the one Celine Dion song taught me. ily 🤟🏻💘

[acacia-may]

You asked me, now I asked you, 2, 9 and 22 💘

Thank you so much for the ask, friend, and for playing this writing ask game! I'd be thrilled to answer your ask and share some excerpts with you. 🥰

2. An excerpt of my writing that makes me laugh

I'll admit that I am always so nervous whenever I try to write anything humorous. I feel like I have an odd and often dry sense of humor so I really worry my jokes aren't going to land in my writing. That said, I really love dramatic irony used for comedic effect. For instance this joke from one of my Fairy Tail fics, "The Jam Problem," always makes me laugh:

“There’s nothing wrong with being smitten with Rita and wanting to go on a date, Yuri,” chimed in Mavis with a reassuring smile. “I’d like to go on a date too someday.” She paused and a somewhat dreamy sigh she had not been intending accidentally tumbled out of her mouth as she added, “With Zeref.”   Yuri’s brow furrowed at her, and he turned back to a somewhat concerned Precht and Warrod. “Are we ever going to do something about Mavis’s ‘Zeref Problem’?”  “I think it’s just a phase,” reassured Warrod with a thoughtful nod.  “She’ll probably grow out of it before anything bad happens," Precht agreed.

I also really love situational comedy, cheeky bantering, and snarky one-liners (which might be one of the reasons I love writing Charmy so much). Here's one of my favorite Charmy jokes from my Black Clover fic "Pancakes For Dinner"

“For you, Miss Charmy, I would do anything,” Rill said with a bright beaming smile before taking off to, Charmy was certain, conspicuously watch Finral. “Awww…” teased Vanessa draping her arm around Charmy’s shoulders causing her cheeks to flush a little. “He’s so cute!” “You say that, la,” sighed Charmy. “But he’s never painted a life-sized portrait of you as a ‘food goddess’…”

9. An excerpt of my writing with characters I love

Here's a snippet from one of my favorite fics from my Early Black Bulls series, "A Bird In The Rain" (which I apologize is only on AO3 but I'll still link it). The friendship between young Yami, Gordon, Finral, and Vanessa is one of my favorites in the whole series, and I don't think it's talked about nearly enough.

“I’m back,” declared Finral appearing in a portal beside Yami as the rain began to pour. “Great, now hurry up and get us out of here before we get soaked,” he huffed, but Finral wasn’t even looking at him. Yami’s brow furrowed, and he glared at him in irritation. With eyes that wide and that tint of pink in his cheeks, he knew exactly what—or rather who—Finral was staring at. “You wanna pick your jaw off the ground and get us out of here?” he quipped, but Finral didn’t respond. Yami rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Finral, will you stop staring at the poor girl already?” “She’s so…” Finral almost gasped quietly, but his voice trailed. Yami blustered but finally whipped towards Vanessa to see what all the fuss was about. If he was being honest, even he was rendered a little bit speechless. Vanessa had both arms flung out widely at her sides as if catching the rain that gushed down from the storm clouds above. Though she was getting completely soaked, she had tilted her head all the way back towards the sky, wearing the widest, brightest smile Yami had ever seen in his entire life. Now, he knew of course that Vanessa was a generally cheerful person who smiled more than most, and he had seen her excited over the most random and everyday things before—but he had never seen her this happy. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anyone this happy. There was something almost mesmerizing, almost beautiful, about her joy, and even Yami had to admit it was breathtaking. Vanessa must have sensed that they were all staring at her because she turned towards them and her face turned bright red. She sheepishly shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I’ve never been caught in the rain before…” Her voice trailed, and something panged in Yami’s chest—a cross between a deep, almost aching sadness and a vindictive desire to rough up the Queen of Witches. “Were you waiting on me?” Vanessa added quickly, almost guiltily. “Uh…um…” Finral choked as his face flushed, but he seemed too awestruck for words—not that Yami could really blame him as he himself was having some trouble formulating a response. Not even Gordon was mumbling. Vanessa’s blush deepened. “And now you’re all soaked…”

22. An excerpt of my writing that is so blissfully self-indulgent

Thank you so much for this!! Please enjoy some Uncle Langris and Dad Finral from my "Birthday Buddies" fic 🥺💖

“Langris?” a voice whispered. His eyes fluttered open. How long had he been asleep? he wondered. “Langris?”  “What?” he mumbled. Groggily, he turned towards his brother who was positively beaming at him with tears of joy in his eyes. “Do you want to meet your nephew?”  This question shook Langris awake as he focused intently on the small bundle in Finral’s arms. Langris’ face softened, and he nodded as Finral handed him the baby and explained with the pride and excitement of new father, “This is Kalon.”  “Hi Kalon,” whispered Langris, trying and failing to keep a serious face as he stared down at his nephew. He looked so small wrapped in his quilt, but he wriggled and squirmed before nestling into Langris’ arms and smiling in his sleep—his button nose wrinkling and his arms stretching out from the blanket as his tiny fingers extended as if he was reaching out for him. Langris held out his own finger to the baby—letting him wrap his little hand around it. “He looks like you,” he whispered, and Finral nodded but smiled with pride, happy tears glistening in his eyes again. “So I’ve been told…” 

I just love when my boys get along with each other, okay? 💚💙

[f1-disaster-bi]

As someone who just stayed up way too late and read the unexpected series even thought they have work the next day 😅😅😅

I am just saying that ypu have single handed made me a fan of lance/lando pairing and I love it 🫶💘

Wondering if there is ever gonna be more to that series??

I know I have sent in a lot but I just love what you write 🫶🫶

Hopefully not too annoying lol 💘💘

You're not annoying, and I'm glad I could get another person with my Lance/Lando agenda!

Unexpected au was one of first multi-fic au's and it is one of my favorites because it's silly and fun while having some dept to it!

I had started another part, but I never got the motivation to finish it. Maybe someday I'll go back to it, but for now it's on the backburner in terms of WIPs I want to get finished!

Here have a snippet from the long forgotten WIP:

“What the fuck is a peony and why is Chloe yelling at me about them?” Lance laughed as he glanced over his shoulder, licking a spot of pasta sauce off his finger, at Lando’s outburst. Lando was sitting at the island in the kitchen of their new home that they had purchased only a month ago. He had papers spread out beside him, his laptop in front of him and a voice-note from Chloe playing in which she was indeed yelling about peonies.

[only-by-the-stars]

For the character ask meme, I feeeeeel like Mipha would be an obvious one, so if you've already gotten her, then uhhhhh Revali or BotW Impa? :> (also, hi. I hope you're having a good day 💘💓💞)

nobody has asked me for her, actually! so I'll do both her and Impa!

Mipha:

First impression: the first time I saw her was in the memory where Calamity Ganon rises up, so I was basically just "ooh, a Zora, she's pretty!"

Impression now: AKJEBFKSFNKJDSFNHLKHKJHDHF I LOVE HER SO MUCH I CANNOT EVER BE NORMAL ABOUT HER, BEST CHAMPION, LOML <333333333333333333333333333333333

Favorite moment: every time I get to fight as her in AOC :3 and also when I get to save her from Waterblight ;~; and when she and Sidon have that cute moment on Vah Ruta ;o; I honestly treasure any time she's onscreen, but those are my favorites

Idea for a story: UMMMM I HAVE A MILLION

Unpopular opinion: she is NOT boring and her character is NOT only about her love for Link and she is NOT written worse than the other champions, people just wanna be mean about her because of stupid ship nonsense/prioritizing male characters (especially the rude ones because they assume those characters are inherently deeper) and in fact I think she's the best written Champion, because she has a family and friends that remember her in BOTW and that you also see in AOC and she thinks about more than just Link, thank you very much. underrated as hell and it makes me so mad. >:E

Favorite relationship: oh, too many choices! I obviously love her and Link in a very shippy way, but I also love her relationships with her family, and the little friendship she strikes up with Daruk, and what little we see of her interacting with others in side missions (there's a cute one where Riju helps her in the Domain, for example), and non-canon obviously, but I love writing her interacting with anyone I can put in there. :3

Favorite headcanon: I have a million bajllion after all the time I've spent writing her and fleshing her out, too many to list here :3;;;

BOTW Impa:

First impression: mainly that she was an exposition lady? she was nice, but sadly didn't really do anything aside from that. :/

Impression now: HOWEVER. I absolutely ADORE her in AOC!!! They really gave her personality, and I love her interactions with Purah and Zelda and Terrako, she is so so so much fun!!! it was really sad going back to little old lady Impa in TotK. :/

Favorite moment: Any time she is encouraging Zelda is so sweet! ;~; and any time she and Terrako clash, it's so funny xD I also love that side mission where she has to clean up Purah's mess with some Guardians, and she's just "-_-" the entire time xD

Idea for a story: I want to write more of my version of her from my favorite fic of mine! and just more with her in general. Like I still have some unused zine pitches that would be fun...

Unpopular opinion: some people don't like her youthful version cause it's so different from past younger Impas, but I love her! I like OOT Impa too, don't get me wrong, but I found AOC Impa super fun.

Favorite relationship: Her and Zelda!

Favorite headcanon: I like to think her not being present in certain memories in BOTW was an oversight, NINTENDO >:/ because she specifically states that she was friends with them back then, and we see in AOC that she really was, so where was she??? hence why in my Mipha protagonist BOTW retelling I have her be present in some of the memories with the group because that's something else that needs fixing.

(I am having a lovely day, thank you! :3 hope you are too!)

[monstersinthecosmos]

for the fic asks bc you deserve to be dicking around all day 😭

💘 Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/ re-write?

🍉 in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

(writing asks!)

💘 Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/ re-write?

bruh all of them lol. Every fic I've posted before 2022 makes me feel so ashamed and every day that goes by where I haven't made time to rewrite them makes me feel fucking nauseous lol

🍉 in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

OKAY SO LIKE not to make everything about Anne Rice except that she like influenced me/corrupted me at a young age but I remember one time she phrase IWTV as a "conversation about grief" and it really made me think differently about like using stories to HAVE CONVERSATIONS with myself? Another author who was huge for me as a teen was Francesca Lia Block and one time in a workshop she suggested to like, identify things you don't like about yourself and turn them into characters?

I don't think I set out to start fics and go "I will process this feeling in myself" on purpose but I think like having control over the entire narrative gives us so many opportunities to just like spill words and feelings and ideas and it's so cathartic.

Something in particular though like all my pre-2020 VC fics I was like channeling a lot of my frustrations with myself into Armand (for example, time blindness!) and I used to just think they were character deficits of mine, but then like during 2020 when I was learning about ADHD/AuDHD it was like eye opening to go back to that and realize it was just like neurodivergent stuff that I was struggling with and I didn't know it. But it was nice to put those struggles into a character and remove them from myself so that I could like be a little more objective and have empathy and be kinder to myself because I was able to be kind to someone else. (Even if that someone was Armand, who is not real. LOL)

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

Ummmmmmm I think it changes occasionally as I try to learn things or curb bad habits? And sometimes I realize I do something too much and I get sick of it and try to evolve? I don't try to sculpt a style on purpose, it kinda just happens as it happens. I do try to like match a character's VOICE for the POV I'm writing, so like that can alter the style here and there. But I know like what works for me and what I like as a reader so I think there's sort of a natural cadence I hear in my mind when I read and write and it might evolve all the time when I read things. Like sometimes I'll read a book and it changes my cadence for a while because it influences me. So I think it does change, but I don't do it on purpose, and I hope there's at least some consistency in my work where you can still tell it's me. :)