Batman X Black Oc - Tumblr Posts

"That Girl is No Good."

Act two is beginning to write itself, until then here are what I like to call intermission pieces.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC) [mentioned]

Rating: PG-13 | warnings: none? public opinion and scrutiny, cursing

Taglist[OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole1219 @ctrllovre

“What the public wants to know is who is this floozy that’s been caught time and time again, dangling off Mr.Wayne’s arm?” Judy’s fiery red tresses shook from the conviction in her voice, comparable to an agitated horse. She eyed the camera lens, attempting to convey the emotion brewing in her chest to her viewers. After months of failed lives and low viewerships on her blog, the woman had finally found her niche. 

Celebrity Gossip.

And who was the biggest celebrity this side of the western hemisphere if not Bruce Wayne? At first, the man gave nothing exciting to report on that could rally public interest. But now, this woman, this Dove Cartwright, had garnered interest the more he was caught with her. And that made Judy a very popular woman. She didn't understand why so few public personalities talked about this hot piece of news.

“Mr. Wayne is not a saint, we’ve all heard of the legendary parties he throws and the somewhat questionable meetings he has with some of Gotham’s infamous. But this woman is different. Poor, fat, black, with a criminal record, a key suspect in an ongoing investigation with a gang that is known for terrorizing innocents. I’m speaking out of a place of worry for Mr. Wayne. 

“I’ll take some callers now. Caller number one you’re on the air.

“Hi, my name is Michelle and I know for a fact that woman is a gold digger! She lives in the same neighborhood my ex does and it's nothing over there but future criminals and loser has-beens.”

Thank you Michelle for your concern and support. Next caller.”

“My name is Rich and I used to get my pants hemmed by her at Spinelli. She’s nothing but a girl looking for a meal ticket. She used to feel me up and press her breast against my legs like a bitch in heat. It's a real shame Mr. Wayne doesn’t know what he’s inviting into his life. That girl is no good.”

“Thank you for sharing that information Rich, I’m sure Mr. Wayne will open his eyes soon. Next Caller.”

“What’s up Gotham, it's Santana in the mix and I just wanna say all of yall is some haters. Yall big mad Mr. Wayne done found himself a baddie and yall jealous and bitter cause yall wish it was you all snuggled up with -”

“I’m so sorry to my audience for letting that thing assault your ears with nonsense. Maybe we should take a small break-” Three sharp knocks on her oak doors shocked her still. No one visits Judy. Her family had all but washed their hands of her years ago and she never connected with any woman she met in the 10+ years she’s been alone. Glancing at the setup, she could see the chat asking her who was at the door. 

“One second. Let’s take a small break.” she addressed both groups at once. Giving a small smile to the camera, Judy did a swift pivot and made her way to the door. She opened it without hesitation. The sight that welcomed her made her insides coil. 

“Judith Snorfeld?” It was a singular man, dressed in a sharp business suit with a manilla envelope gripped securely in his hand. By the second, Judy could feel her blood circulate faster. 

“Yes. Why are you-” Her breath rushed out her mouth as her body recoiled from the thick envelope that found itself forced into her embrace. She scrambled to secure the papers, all the while staring the man down. 

“Mr. Wayne is asking nicely that any and all posts you’ve made about him and Ms. Cartwright be taken down immediately.” Judy gawked at the man. He displayed no emotion or hint of an opinion. 

“You…he can’t be serious. It’s celebrity gossip, what I’m doing is-”

“I am just the messenger ma’am. If you don’t believe me or listen to Mr. Wayne’s kind request, those documents from his lawyers in your hands are more than enough to explain the situation.”

“But-”

“Good evening.” Judy watched, shock still freezing her body to the threshold of her quaint home, as the man in the sharp suit left the way she assumed her come. Slowly, she shifted her eyes to her torso, where the manilla folder had been pressed and secured.

She didn't bat an eye as the oak door closed without her body acting as a doorstopper. Couldn't draw in a single breath down the hall back to her tiny office, back to her waiting audience. She can't think of what to say, her words had been silenced and locked deep inside of her as fear took hold of her.

Judy glanced at the computer screen, chat lines obscuring her reflection. Her lips separate to utter something, a flimsy excuse to cut the show short, but her eyes pick out a colored piece of paper in the mess that was her desk before she could get anything out.

She's sick to her stomach. She wants to vomit. Of all people to blab about, why would she pick Bruce Wayne?

Now she's going to lose her viewers. Her short-lived steady stream of income. And her apartment.

"Fuck you, Dove Cartwright."