scrabble earrings

Bruce Wayne Imagine

Bruce helps you escape a troubled relationship (short)

Bruce saw.

He saw that behind your breathing, behind your small smile, behind your darting eyes, and behind your fidgeting of your fingers, that this was all a lie. Your heart was in someone else’s hands, but it did not belong. It did not fit. The maker wasn’t right. He saw your fingers pinch and crumple when the veins of stress bared too much. You never knew that he knew. You always took pride in your ability to slide by without any detection. But he was Bruce Wayne, Bat of Gotham, of course he would notice.

When you first told him, he was happy. Your smile lit up his face as you sat across each other on the couch. His arms leant on his knees, chin leaning on his hands. You told Bruce all about him. The way you met, the way he held you, treated you. It was like a dream, one to hold onto forever. Bruce was happy, he had known you for awhile, and he had wanted more than anything for you to be happy. So he complied.

Was he ecstatic? No. A small part of him felt like you were being taken away and placed in the hands of someone else. But you told him not to worry. You told him you’d never be with someone  who made you push others away. You were strong minded, you had power to your punch; you were not a damsel.

But even the hardest fall. They can even cascade.

It started when you would be in the company of Bruce and Alfred, harmlessly sitting; talking. Bruce handed you a cup of tea, sipping his own whilst sitting down. Your phone would buzz, the shock starling you. You would read it, a message appearing insisting that you come home so you could hang out and watch movies. Of course you couldn’t comply. But you were with Alfred and Bruce, basically family. But no, the next message sent would beg, sending streams of guilt, as he sent sad faces and told you he already bought ice-cream and chocolate. You would excuse yourself, your eyes unaware of Bruce’s downing face. Truth be told he loved your company, he felt home when you were with him, a feeling very rarely found in his life. But that feeling was slowly ruined, when all that was left in the room was Alfred, himself, and a untouched steaming cup of tea.

Of course you felt guilty. Your heart was crushed, and it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Soon it was every hour of everyday. You phone would buzz, asking for details about where you were, and what you were doing. If you’d be home and when or why not. You started to groan  at every message sent. Your eyes rolling and your eyes tired. Tired of letting him know your every whereabouts. When sitting with Bruce, helping him work the design for a new weapon, your phone would buzz. Once it buzzed. Twice it buzzed. Three times it buzzed. Bruce would look at your phone, and then to you, your head down, ignoring its moving ring. Bruce noticed, that with every buzz, your face would flinch. Four times it buzzed. Fourth time you flinched. The echoed buzz was crawling into your ear, scrabbling your brain. You dropped the screwdriver, it’s metal clinging on the metal bench. 

You picked up your phone. He wants you home. Now. Why weren’t you home five minute ago? You need to home now. Where are you? Who are you with?!  You look to Bruce, telling him softly you have to go. He nods, walking you up to the front door. He opens it for you,looking at your face. It was tired, almost in dread. He offers another day to meet. You say you’ll see, you’re not sure when you’re free. He looks at you, saying that you were almost always free before. And then you leave, without a goodbye, nor a look in the eyes. That whole time, your eyes were on the ground, staring at his feet. It looked as if you were almost talking to them, asking for help. Bruce didn’t know if he offended you or not, so he would make sure to check up on you later, to ask if you were okay. He wasn’t good in these situation. Should he wait to give you time? or ask you soon?

When you got home, you were bombarded with questions that reached your ear and crushed your heart. The guilt was plagued on you, the loud voice infesting your mind. You looked in his eyes, they were not the eyes you once fell in love with. Or were they? Had he given you a facade to fall in love with? A mask to later take off?  You apologize, saying it won’t happen again. He takes your car keys off you, telling you he’ll drive you places from now on. You stand there, feeling lost and alone in your own house.

The next day, Bruce asks if you would like to come over to finish working on the project. You tell him to wait a minute. You place the phone down, staring at your hands. You build up courage, guts, to stand up, and walk to where he is. You slowly ask him, in a quiet and unruly voice, if he could drive you to Bruce’s house. He looks at you and smiles. He tells you to get your stuff, you’ll be going soon. He smiles. He smiled. Maybe this was just a bad faze? Maybe it will go away?! Maybe it can be how is once was.

You enter the car, small talk swirling between you two. He stops out the front, and looks to you, smiling while he does, he kisses your cheek and then you smile softly. He tells you he’ll pick you up in an hour. Your smile drops. You’ll need longer than that. His eyes then infest your own. He grunts, and lets you get out, willing to let you stay a little longer. You get out quickly, and walk to the front door. As soon as the very first step enters the house as Alfred let’s you in, your phone buzzes. Are you inside? I can still see you! I’ll pick you up in an hour! Last time you wear that to Bruce’s!

You ignore them. Why are you ignoring my message?! Answer me you worthless woman! You head straight down to the Batcave. There you find your happiness in the grease and dirt, the oil and Bruce. He makes you laugh like you hadn’t in a long time, he makes you cry of happiness like you hadn’t before. He makes you feel alive like you hadn’t before. And then your phone buzzes. Once, twice, so many times  it begins to merge into one into one giant scream. You flinch and ignore it, Bruce watching as you do. A tear slips your eyes as the frustration gets to much. Bruce walks over to you, a hand on your shoulder. He asks if you’re okay.  You simply give him your phone, and he begins to read. The messages, the psychological abuse. His rage builds, his anger rising. His sadness under the layers. He takes your hand, and sits you down on the couch. He kneels in front of you, a hand on your cheek,

“This isn’t love,” He says. 

You look up at him, tears running down softly. You sniffle, and nod, flinching as it buzzes again. He’s out the front. Bruce takes your phone, and places it in his pocket. His suit shirt is rolled up at the sleeves. He pulls you up, and he walks you out of the Batcave, into the manor, and out the front. He spots the car, and in it, him. Bruce tells you to stay, and he walks up to him, leaning on his car door talking to him through the window. There’s yelling, and Bruce’s muscles flex at every word Bruce says. You stand there, watching, deciding to move forward when he points to you through the car, his eyes angry at you. You place a hand on Bruce’s back, letting him know you’re here. You tell him you’ve had enough, and that it’s over. He’s angry and begins yelling, Bruce tells him not to yell at you,  and then he speeds off, a dust trail lining behind him. Bruce pulls you into him tight, letting you know you can stay with him the night. You accept the offer, and lean into him. You both walk inside, the clouds starting to form rain. Alfred begins to make up some hot chocolate down in the Batcave, and you smile graciously. Bruce hands you a cup of hot chocolate, sipping his own as he sits down. You all talk, laughing and lightening the mood. You sit back, no feeling of anxiety, nor fear, you sit and laugh, grateful for the beautiful man, named Bruce. Whilst you sat and laughed as Alfred told of old stories and wonderful times, Bruce watches the smiles that ceased to existed on your face before, grateful he has the old you back.

– wrote this one a little differently, i only wanted the only speech to be “This isn’t love”. Not sure why, i guess a stylistic choice, but yeah.

–Also note, that abuse doesn’t need to be physical to be abusive. You should be happy and treated as if you deserve the world, and that goes the other way too, treat each other with waves of respect and love. 

–Have a good day!

Ariana Grande merch $40 and under

Since a majority of this fandom is disappointed with the basic, overpriced merch– I decided to make this masterpost. It’s divided into categories and nothing is over 40$. Keep in mind everything on here is from etsy, there are other sites where you can get cute, cheap merch too. There are also sites where you can make your own. 

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In celebration of make-up AU week – Killian and Emma break their bed, and go to Ikea to pick out a new one. Set in my Lend me some sugar universe because I am hopeless.

We get together, oh we get together.

Ikea on a Saturday is a nightmare – children screaming in their carts, people practically climbing over one another to get to the 99 cent cutlery, utter chaos at the cart line. It rolls her stomach the second she locks her gaze on the blue and yellow monstrosity and she really wishes they didn’t have to do this at all.

But they do.

Because they broke the bed.

A fact that Killian is infinitely proud of – and one that he has told four employees.  

“In search of a new bed, mate.” He happily tells the pre-teen that’s in charge of the furniture section. Emma doesn’t even have to look at him to know his eyebrows are doing that thing – the thing where one arches and you know immediately his thoughts are nowhere good. “We wore out the old one quite thoroughly.”


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You and Jin tae had been sitting quietly for hours. You were doing your homework and he was grading some papers. You usually didn’t mind the silence, but it was starting to get to you. You glanced at the clock to see it was a few minutes passed midnight. Jin tae got up from the dining table and grabbed his mug.

Before he could ask you sighed. “No thank you”

He frowned looking at you, a bit surprised at the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Oh…Are you ok?”

Setting your book down you frowned. “I’m ok… I’m just…Ugh we’re like an old married couple.” The beginning of your relationship was steamy hot sex. Any moment you had free was spent under him.

“What do you mean?” he walked over to you, taking a seat on the couch.

“You’re predictable…Hell I’m predictable. All we do is just…this” you gestured at the papers on the table.

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