"He Put Out An Ad?"

"He Put out an Ad?"

~Hey my darlings, Let's cut to the chase and post part 6 of We FLock together. I'm truly excited to post this, the last part was kinda filler. Now we gettin into some shit.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC)

Rating: PG-13; warnings: obsessive Bruce Wayne, plotting Bruce Wayne, silk press getting caught in the rain; cursing, barely edited.

Taglist [OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole121919

Bruce watched behind his cowl as dilated brown eyes became glazed with tears. Dried specks of blood had been splattered on the side of her head. If he hadn’t met with her two days ago to slurp down oysters at the newest restaurant in Gotham, he would have never believed the puffy mane on her head used to be straight. 

“Batman? Please, don’t hurt me…” A shrill voice called out, and oh, how it pained the man behind the mask to hear. As if he could ever hurt her, his sweet Dove. But he couldn’t let her know that. Batman doesn’t show compassion for criminals. Even someone like her, with a fearful expression and trembling body. Like a lone bird grounded by a broken wing. Later he would explain, over coffee at that diner she took him to, that Batman does what’s necessary for the public. 

For now, he had a job to do. 

His heavy shoes crunched on the discarded newspapers, stepping over unconscious bodies and pools of diluted blood. The tears in her eyes fell over her lower lid and blended in seamlessly with the raindrops hitting her brown skin. 

“Don’t, please! I’m not with them! Stay- Stay away!” Uncoordinated limbs attempted to move her out of his reach. Dove looked up at the vigilante. She’s never seen Batman in person, but the stories her customers told her about how intimidating he could be rang true. Her mind couldn’t direct her body to move, there was nowhere to hide. The pickup scheduled tonight has been ruined, and the dripping woman could swear her ears were hearing the sound of police sirens. 

Guess who’s going to jail tonight? 

The darkness of the suit worked in his favor, and soon Dove found herself flat on her back looking into the lens of his eye cover. “What are you doing here? What’s your business with Joker?”

“Nothing, nothin’. I promise I’m not a criminal. I’ve never even stolen from the self-checkout. Please don’t hurt me!” The taste of Gotham rainwater saturated her mouth with bitterness. Still, she spoke loud and clear, unwilling to give him an ounce of doubt in her innocence. 

The dark knight leaned further until they were a breath apart. She still smelt like how she did last time he saw her. His hands yearned to skim her body, the clothes she wore already glued to her frame, exposing curves he had only dreamed of prior. Focus, Bruce. 

“I won’t have to hurt you if you tell me the truth of why you’re here.” At the sound of her whimper, Bruce leaned back just slightly. Like a weight off her stomach, Dove sucked in air for all she was worth. “Don’t make this difficult. If you don’t tell me, I can promise the GCPD won’t be any kinder.”

“It’s just clothes. I-” Her heart pounded and her head felt fuzzy. This was all too much for her to deal with. A lone woman, out in the rain, with Gotham City’s fiercest defender on top of her. “Didn’t do nothing.”

He waited for her to elaborate. When her mouth didn’t open again, Bruce felt the ice-cold rain run down his back. A dark gloved hand lifted her neck to get a response. Her head fell back, Dove was no longer conscious to support herself. 

“Fuck.”

---- ----

“When you said ‘it’s just clothes’ what did you mean by that, Miss CartWright?” The detective probed. When Dove awoke from her unintended slumber, her wrists were cuffed and chained to the lone table in the room. This was an interrogation room. She’s seen the setup before in tv and movies, never did she think she would also experience them in person. 

“I said what?”

“When Batman apprehended you last night. He claims you said ‘it’s just clothes’ after he inquired about your connection to the Joker.” Long lashes fluttered, her mind racing and trying to catch up to her current situation.

“I meant that I’m just the supplier for his costumes. Well, all their costumes.”

“Uhm, What? Please explain.” The cop leaned back against the mirror, a two-way she thought. Clearing her throat, Dove pondered her next words carefully. She wasn’t a snitch, not against Gotham’s biggest menace. All she had to do was clear her name and pray they let her go without further interrogation. She would chirp as much as she needed to avoid a jail sentence. But if worse came to worse, she would sooner sew her lips shut with her strongest thread than snitch and end up on Joke’s shit list. 

“I’m a seamstress. You probably already knew that.” With a nod, the suspect continued. “I have an apprenticeship with Tailor Spinelli. It pays, but not enough. So I make the costumes and uniforms for Joker and his gang. Pays well. I don’t have to take up a second job or sell feet pics to men on the internet.” 

“Are you serious?” Her nose flared at the dubious tone in the detective’s voice. With a hard glare, she met the man’s eyes. 

“You think Joker is getting those purple suits off the rack? Or that he has his goons buying their matching outfits off the web in bulk? I’m serious.”

“Okay. Now how did you end up in this arrangement? He put out an ad?” The more the pig talked, the angrier her tone became.

“No. Miss Harley did.”

“Alright, enough bullshit. Tell me the truth.” Dove felt her temper rise and she had to fight to get a hold of it. Slamming the table and shaking her binds, she spat it out for the last time. 

“I told you the truth. I’m the Joker’s seamstress.”

His focus left the video in his hands and traveled to the smoking law enforcer. Letting out a cloud of tobacco, Gordon reached out to ask for the footage back. 

“Far as I can tell, she’s telling the truth. So why is she still in custody?”

“Miss Cartwright knew of illegal activity and knowingly associated herself with criminals. That’s enough to keep her at the station and guarantee a trial. We have a warrant to search her apartment.”

“She’s the closest connection we have to Joker right now, had in months,” Gordan admitted to the dark knight. Bruce frowned. The thought of someone he cherished being behind bars unsettled him. Regardless, the commissioner spoke the truth. The only thing he could do was wait for her on the other side of the trial. To do anything more, to tamper with the process would go against everything he fought for. 

If they tried to throw her behind bars, however,then he would have no choice but to act.

He left the rooftop in silence, something he knew Gordon had to be used to by now. The Batman still had a city to protect, a patrol to stick to. He made a note to set up alerts on his computer for any mention of Dove Cartwright. Hopefully, all went well, and she won’t be convicted of any crime. 

A week passed and he had heard nothing of what could be happening to Dove. The golden prince of Gotham planned on waiting one more day before he broke into the surveillance footage at the station. So he remained in his office, going over figures and reports when he got a call from the station. The caller ID flashed brightly in front of him, it beckoned him to pick up the phone and demand answers. 

Stay calm, Bruce. 

“This is a collect call from Gotham City County Jail for inmate Dove CartWright, say yes if you wish to accept this call.”

“Yes.” The silence on the other side deafened him. Concern crawled up his body and looped itself around his neck, constricting like a snake until he was on the verge of passing out. Then, a muffled sniffle came through the line. “Hello?”

“Bruce? Thank God you answered. I couldn’t think of anyone else to call.”

“Dove? Is that you? Are you in jail?” These were questions he already knew the answer to, but to get what he wanted, he had to play his part as a bewildered friend. Hammering down his role, Bruce cursed low under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I ran into some trouble. Made acquaintance with the wrong crowd and now the police are charging me with being an accomplice. I-uh need a favor, Bruce.”

“Do you need a lawyer? Don’t worry, I have a team ready. They’ve never lost a case, you’ll be out in no time.” He expected a sound of relief but did not receive one. “Dove?”

“I don’t need a lawyer. I already accepted a plea deal. I was hoping you could uh..” The billionaire smirked. He knew where this was going. 

“You want me to bail you out?”

“...yes.” He sighed and leaned back into his chair, staying quiet until she broke the silence. Focus, Bruce, focus. “M’sorry Bruce. You know I don’t see you as a walking bank or nothing. But I need to get out of here. I didn’t do anything. And I’m not safe in here.”

“Whose after you Dove?”

“Bad...bad people Bruce. I fucked up. I-”

“Ok.” And that was the end of that. She’ll remember this moment for the rest of their lives, Bruce rationalized, how quick he was to help her any way he could. How he didn’t even question her innocence, not like the GCPD have been doing. This would be the first of many milestones in their relationship.

This would be the day Dove realized Bruce Wayne was someone, the only one she could count on. 

Thoughts raced in his mind, plans forming and disassembling at an inhuman speed. He had calls to place, guards to disarm, supplies to buy, but piece by piece, his next steps became clear. 

“Bruce?”

“I’ll see you later tonight, Dove. Take care of yourself until then.”

“I,” a harsh exhale filled bounced around his eardrums. It didn't take detective work to know on the other side of the phone, shuffling her feet next to the phone station, Dove was struggling to hold it together.  “Thank you, Bruce. Really.”

The line went dead, his phone screen still pressed firmly on his side profile. Lowering the device, Bruce stared absently at the black screen. 6 minutes and 17 seconds. It felt much shorter than that, but the numbers refused to change. It made him crave more.  A calloused finger pad tapped the touchscreen, raising the phone back to his ear. The cooing of a call yet to be answered riled his spirit. 

“Alfred. I need you to prepare the manor for a guest.”

“Absolutely Master Bruce. May I ask how long this guest will be saying.”

“Indefinitely.”

Friend. I wanna write the way you do. I wanna write like you. If I wanted to write an obsessive Bruce Wayne, how would I do that?

why’d I cover my face for ten minutes after reading this, no one has ever said that about my writing before😭😭

When I write, I try to do it in the same way I think a character would talk a therapist/friend. so sometimes I have characters ramble on and on, or over-explain their reasoning. Depending on who I’m writing for, the best way for me to get into their mindset is watching/ consuming media of that character.

For Bruce, he’s a very logical person that also relies on some gut feelings that he’ll later back up with research. He obsesses over cases he needs to solve, looking at it from every angle trying to figure it out. His instant infatuation with Dove would be a gut feeling. Him being a total creep on Dove to have her be closer to him would be him trying to figure out this gut feeling. When he does detective work, I don’t think there are many lines he wouldn’t cross to solve a case. I think he’d act the same way for love.

It also helps to consider how others see a character. Bruce is the sole heir of wealthy well known family that helped Gotham be sucha large city. He uses that wealth and legacy for his own personal gain to fight bad guys instead of going to therapy. There are few people that could question him, even less people that would attempt to stop him. He only knows about the poor and underprivileged from his time as Batman when he would patrol the city, and he’s pretty friendly with the cops even though he breaks the law by being a vigilante.

Idk if I helped answer that question, I tried to sound smart or wise but honestly if I watch enough batman/dc cartoons, I get inspired and go on a writing binge.

We Flock Together

Synopsis: Safe? Or Imprisoned? It makes sense someone like Bruce Wayne wouldn’t be able to tell the difference and think a pretty gilded cage is the only reasonable answer.

Status: On-going | Taglist: Open

Overall Rating: PG-13 (subject to change)

Chapters

~Trust Me? You Stole Me!

~Might As Well, Right?

-A Bit Drunk But Still Fine

~Let’s Add Caviar To It

~That it, Bossman?

~He Put Out An Ad?

~I Know What They’re Thinking

Main Masterlist

imma say it one time, bruce wayne is sick

as someone who is chaotic nuetral, im not surprised

Another uquiz :D

this shit cute as hell

nail tech ღ

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synopsis .. manicurist!mitsuya brainrot

content warnings .. just fluff c:

word count .. 291

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manicurist!mistsuya who always makes space for you in his schedule to give you the best acrylics possible. when you first came into his shop, he was stunned by your beauty. of course your nails caught his attention as well, they were so abstract and expressive, but you just complimented them, rather than the nails complimenting you.

manicurist!mitsuya was infatuated by your presence whenever you came into the shop to get a refill. so infatuated to the point that even the other customers would tease him about it once you left the premises.

manicurist!mitsuya couldn’t help himself around you. he just felt so comfortable around you. the two of you would talk for hours, sometimes you even stayed with him until he had to close up shop.

manicurist!mitsuya who lets you do his nails after a lot of begging and pleading. which only made the night be filled with laughter as you complained about him moving too much or the color dripping onto his fingertips.

manicurist!mitsuya who makes you his nail tester. some of his designs are so out there that many of his regulars don’t have the confidence to wear them out. but he knew you could do it and wear them with the upmost confidence and make them yours.

manicurist!mitsuya who finally jumps the gun and ask you out on a date, which you happily accept, causing the man to release the breathe he was holding from the moment he asked you.

..bonus !

fast forward two years where manicurist!mitsuya who insists on doing your nails before your date night began, only for him to propose hours later with the cheekiest smile on his face as tears fell down the apples of your cheeks.

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marley’s notes ღ .. this is my first piece and i wanted to drop something for the prettiest birthday boy out there, so i hope you guys like this!