yknow what, i really don't give a fuck what watcher's reasoning was, but the fact remains that THEY put up a paywall and none of their viewers are obligated to pay it.

THEY are putting up a paywall and paying the salaries+benefits of 25 people and $100k+ per season for shows and getting new shitty teslas and flying across the world first class and actively recruiting more people to their company and paying studio fees in one of the most expensive states and areas in this country and raking in another $100k with just Patreon subscribers (not counting merch, live shows, donations, ad revenue, etc) and spending SO MUCH MORE than ANY of their viewers could have ever wanted them to.

so no thanks, I'll save my $6 and watch someone else.

Took Your Time

OMG, ITS MY FIRST STORY!!!!! Feel free to leave comments and opinions. My request line is open, enjoy the story!!!

Bruce Wayne x FemBlack!Reader

Sometimes, life is good. I mean, it isn’t great, but sometimes it's pretty good.

 Growing up in The Narrows and generally trying to survive in Gotham as a black woman? That’s hard. No college degree and a working class family that moved back to the south? That’s hard. Now let’s add being discriminated against by employers, just because you aren’t a size 6, in anything and refuse to perm your hair. That brings the difficulty up to damn near impossible. Let’s not even get started on the sexual harassment and misconduct for the few employers who thought I’d agree to sexual favors in exchange for employment.

I had a brief run of luck about three years ago. I started working at the main office for a charity that worked closely with the rich upper crust of Gotham, but they were cool with my usual braids or twist out hairstyle and paid $20 an hour with benefits and pension plan, so I will suffer in silence with a smile. The rich assholes that keep all the minorities under their thumbs and on their toes by voting in lawmakers that side with them and their money. That was our main clientele: Bigots who wanted to make it seem like they actually cared with charity galas.  As difficult as it is to bite my tongue when these jack asses say terrible things, there was always someone there to make my day.

Bruce Wayne. 

He was one of the few regulars to this office and one of the few that actually acknowledged that I don’t work for him. Didn’t hurt that the man had a brilliant mind and was a pleasure to look at. The first time he came in and we had a conversation that wasn’t about politics or business, he accidentally bumped into me as I was taking paperwork to my supervisor. Did I mention his lukewarm coffee got all in my hair and all over my only good button up shirt? No one had ever apologized to me so much in my life. This man convinced my supervisor to let me take an early, extended and PAID lunch just to put myself back together.

“Crap, I don’t have another shirt to change into. Maybe I can change into one of my old church dresses after I shower and do my hair again...” I start muttering out loud, trying to figure out how I can keep working while dealing with the sexist ass dress code. I never even notice Bruce smile at me, somewhat sheepishly until he spoke again. “I really am sorry about your shirt, crap, and your hair. I could give you a lift to get a change of clothes if you want?” he said with all sincerity. You smiled politely at him and waved him off. “It’s fine. I’ll just wash it in the bathroom and hope it doesn’t set a stain. But I probably will have to go and wash my hair though.”

Bruce looked guilty, but still very much composed, as one would think of a businessman. Honestly his name and wealth didn’t sway me one way or another, but when he offered to have my shirt professionally dry cleaned, gave me his spare crisp white button up shirt and came back the next day with four large boxes, I started seeing the measure of this man.

He walked in as if he had an appointment and came straight to my desk, two young men I recognized as his son’s Tim and Dick, following closely with the boxes. “Hello y/n. I wanted to apologize for yesterday again. Normally I’m not that careless, but I suppose that’s what happens when you rush” he says with a soothing tone, as if he expected me to be angry at him? Odd. “It’s really alright. I need to be thanking you for the shirt and having my shirt cleaned. Speaking of which, I want to pay you back for that, it must have been expensive to get that stain out”. 

He looked at me confused one moment and like he was staring at the sun the next. A small smile crept onto his face and he leaned on the counter. “It was nothing, but if you insist on repaying me, accept this small gift and maybe get coffee with me after you get off?”, his son’s set the boxes on the desk and pat their father on the back before making an exit. I idly notice that one of them really does have a fantastic ass, kinda like Beyonce or J-Lo. 

I shook off the thought and open the first of the four boxes and gasp at the contents. Clothes. This man bought me clothes. Expensive clothes. Ashley Stewart, Lane Bryant, and international plus sized brands that only make clothing that costs more than Gotham Electric bills. This man bought me boxes and boxes of clothing. I open and close boxes and find even more clothes. The final box is what brought me to tears. It was full of the most expensive natural hair care products known to the world. Products I could only dream of owning and using....But this almost felt like too much.

I wiped my eyes and before I could say anything, he’s taken my hand. “Please accept these. I overheard you saying that was your only work shirt. I figured the least I could do is give you more choices. And I don’t know much about hair care, but I did research and saw these were the best of the best. I really love your hair. Too many businesses here force women to change their hair, but you’ve embraced it and it is a marvel to behold. Even if you don’t want the coffee, I want you to take these as gifts”. Then this man has the audacity to give me the most gorgeous megawatt smile I’d ever seen. That was the moment he had me. 

(Later on, he’d tell me how I got him with my smile the moment he saw me and my twist out that looked like a floating chocolate cloud, “Gravity defying curls” as he calls them)

Things were going great. I was dating Bruce, we would go out on the town every few nights, He even came over and had movie night with me (That ended with us making out before we were an hour into the movie...) and bought us chinese food from my favorite take out joint. I was making enough money that I bought a good studio apartment in the city by the office and could still afford my bills. Life was good. 

Until the fucking Joker came along.

In one night, my life was ruined. Joker took me hostage (Why me, I’ll never know), blew up the entire block that the charity building was on, which included by apartment and all of my information. Thankfully Bruce was late picking me up, so he wasn’t caught up in this, but I kinda wish he was. Heck most of Gotham had heard the rumor that Bruce Wayne was Batman, but no one really believed it. Either way I knew that Batman would be coming soon, but damn if he wasn’t taking his time! Joker was breathing his stank breath in my face while he tied me up. If it weren’t for my years of customer service, I would’ve made a stank face that matched his breath. Thankfully he got out of my face and left the room to wait for the bat, leaving me to panic in an attempt to free myself.

As I’m trying to calm myself down and undo the ropes, thinking about how I could’ve just stayed in North Carolina and I wouldn’t be in this mess, I catch some movement out of the corner of my eyes. A swath of black enters the room without a sound. Batman is here. I look him in what I assume his eyes and glare, holding my now freed hands up.

“Took your time didn’t you?”

I saw the ghost of a smile grace his face before he hefted me over his shoulder and passed me to someone. I saw an ass like J-Lo and knew it was Nightwing. I was almost too shocked to be outraged at being handled lack a potato sack.

“Nightwing, take her out of here, I’ll deal with Joker.”

It wasn’t until Nightwing turned about that the voice and the jawline matched to me.

Holy shit. Bruce Wayne really is Batman. 

I mean, everyone knew Dick was Nightwing, you can’t say those asses are different.

But Bruce is BATMAN! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel a tap on my shoulder that brings me out of my nostalgia. I open my eyes and look up, only to see the man of my dreams. Bruce smiles softly down at me and sits on the edge of the tub, two glasses of champagne in hand.

“Mind a little company, Beloved?”

I grin up at him and gesture for him to join me scooting up to make room. He sets the glasses down on the edge of the tub, disrobes and gets behind me. I lean back and lay my head on his shoulder as he lovingly strokes my warm caramel skin that makes my heart sing. Well that and the memory of him helping with wash day the night before.

Bruce kissed my shoulder and then my cheek.

“What have you been thinking about?”

“The day I realized you were Batman and that you have no issues about picking my ass up.”

Looking over at him, I see a sensual grin form across his lips. 

“Oh, I’ll show you a bit more of that after this bath.”

Mmmmn, I’m in for it tonight.

time for a personal post! because it’s been a while and things are happening and honestly, why not?

let’s see... where to begin...

I’m still jobless, so that’s a thing. I thought I had a job in the bag recently because my recruiter set up a phone interview, then we had an in-person interview last week, and my recruiter said she spoke to the manager and got “lots of positive feedback” and “should know something early next week”. well, it’s “early next week” now. the interview was a week ago. I really thought I would know at this point. oh well. they probably found someone else and haven’t gotten around to telling my recruiter yet. she has tons of other clients so I probably haven’t even crossed her mind yet.

and honestly, this job isn’t really something I want. it’s just... a job. I’ve finally reached that point where I really just need something to do. and we need money. about a month ago. our AC unit went out so we had to get a whole new system installed, so that cost us quite a pretty penny. then we went on vacation and made a few other large purchases... so I’m starting to feel the need to contribute so we can continue paying bills and living the way we’ve been living. at any rate, I still have no idea what I actually want to do, and I can’t just refuse to work while trying to figure out where my career is going. so... I’ll just take whatever comes along at this point.

on a separate note... my grandma is dying. she was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia a few months ago and has been a pretty rapid decline. she was admitted to a hospice yesterday. I’m going to visit her tomorrow. if I’m being honest, she’s been sick for a really really long time... I think we’ve been saying “this Christmas may be her last” for about 6 years now, and every year she’s still hanging on. but with this pretty intense diagnosis, she’s been deteriorating before our eyes. last week when I visited her, I was pretty surprised to learn that she no longer can walk to the bathroom by herself. she can’t even get from the couch to the table without someone helping her up. my dad and his family can’t afford assisted living so my dad’s been paying nurses to come once or twice a week to bathe her, and then paying friends and family members to just come be with her and help her move around the rest of the time. but apparently this week a professional nurse came to bathe her and couldn’t get her out of bed. I don’t know what all that entailed, but it ended with the nurse recommending that she be admitted to a hospice. which really means that she doesn’t have long left.

to be honest.... I’m not sure how I feel about it. I mean, of course I’m horribly sad that my only living grandparent is about to die... but I’ve watched her deteriorate these past few months and that’s horribly sad to witness. at this point, I honestly am just ready to see her pain and suffering end. what’s even worse, though, is watching my dad deal with it. basically, his siblings are all shitty, selfish people, and even though he’s the youngest of 4, he’s the only one who has been taking care of his dying mother. he’s been working his ass off week after week trying to make sure she’s being taken care of on a daily basis, while his siblings not only contribute no time or money to my grandmother’s well being, but also have the audacity to criticize how my dad does EVERYTHING. it’s infuriating and disgusting. I know for a fact that after all of this is over and my grandmother is gone, we won’t see that side of the family ever again. my dad’s siblings are worthless shitty people who refuse to even VISIT their mother, let alone contribute financially to her care. it’s disgusting.

but watching my dad go through this has been devastating, and I’m not even living with them. he’s been working tirelessly to care for her, provide for her, and make sure that her last days are as pleasant as possible. my family has never been wealthy, and this is especially true right now while paying for most of her medical expenses (almost entirely because of his worthless siblings--did I mention that one of his brothers is a FUCKING DOCTOR?). but he’s had to balance all of this with a stressful job, too. I can’t really grasp the amount of stress he’s under right now. but to make matters even worse, my grandma has a very advanced stage of dementia. my sweet, loving grandmother is often far away when he’s around. she often criticizes him, snaps at him, constantly complains about the pain she’s in and how she feels like she’s going crazy. and my dad knows that isn’t really her, but I still imagine that it has to hurt when the person you’re breaking your back for is constantly criticizing you. I honestly can’t imagine. it’s just... it’s devastating. so honestly... I think we’ll all be glad when it’s over.

while all this is happening, though, I can’t escape the very real existential thoughts that come with a family member dying. it’s the same kinds of thoughts everyone has: why didn’t I spend more time with her? did I appreciate her enough? why is life so fragile? what happens when we die--really? how do we know? why is time so short? what am I doing with my life? am I wasting it? am I spending it doing what I love? am I spending it with people I love? how much time do I have left? it’s really terrifying, so I try to avoid those thoughts as best I can. but it’s hard.

anyway, in the midst of all of this, Jackson and I just finished Bojack Horseman, an amazing show on Netflix. I had no intention of loving this show. one of my newest and closest friends basically begged us to give it another chance (because we tried it years ago and didn’t like it). but we did, and we got hooked, and we binge-watched all 4 seasons in a little over a week. it’s such an incredible show. I honestly have considered writing an entire whole spiel about it, but haven’t gotten around to it yet. it’s clever and funny, while also being very dark, nihilistic, and uncomfortably real when it comes to depression/anxiety. and while I’ve enjoyed it thoroughly as a beautifully crafted story... a lot of it has struck a little too close to home. the series focuses on a very self-centered and self-destructive protagonist that--spoiler alert--is never really redeemed, which in and of itself is difficult to process. you repeatedly see that his character is deeply flawed, and despite his attempts to confront his abusive past and clear mental illness, he is still horrible and never changes. in most movies and series, at some point something happens that brings the character out of his “funk” and he works toward healing or recovery. Bojack never really does. he is all the things wrong with him and he never fully takes responsibility for it. he hates himself to a debilitating degree, and no matter how much he says he wants to get better, he never does. it’s... distressing. especially for someone like me, who always seeks stories with closure and resolution. Bojack is very unique in its realism, and in a way, kind of slaps you in the face with how dark it is. especially considering it’s a show where some of the characters are animals with human qualities, and it’s hilarious how the Bojack world functions.

anyway... this has kind of been my life recently. trying to wrap my head around my grandma’s impending passing and my inevitable existential dread, coupled with my lack of job and career prospects and consequently still questioning my purpose in life, all while being deeply influenced by a very heavy show that essentially outlines how we’re all flawed individuals that will always be flawed but in order to be decent and functioning people we have to find ways to cope with our trauma and our parents’ trauma while clinging tightly to the relationships that we have or else we’ll be lost to our own self-destructive cycles of depression and abuse.

also I’ve been trying to hang on to my friends, family, and husband, and not let them know how close I am to losing it on a daily basis.

but, as usual, the memes definitely help! :)

Entry 13: 6/14/19 @3:57 p.m.

I’m once again on the patio at work.

So some things have happened since the last time I wrote. A few days ago, I was at work and greeted a table. The Wife was there first and I guess her husband was parking the car. Anyway, I introduce myself to her and in the middle of getting her drink order, a man puts his arm around my waist and squeezes me against his body from behind. “Hi, how are ya!?” says the smiling man next to me. “Well, that wasnt creepy”, his wife says irritated. I didnt speak, just went to grab the drinks and gave them to a coworker. I asked him to please take my table, that I was uncomfortable with them. He agreed and I continued to care for the rest of my section. I ended up telling my manager and he told me to just get him if anything else happens. Nothing did but later on I was standing in the front, talking with the hostesses and I saw the man walk out the door. His wife was on her way out too and I just felt the need to say something. “ Excuse me ma’am. I think your husband owes me an apology, he made me very uncomfortable’. “I already yelled at him but if you want me to go get him and fucking give you a fucking apology then I’ll fucking do it. Jesus fucking christ!”, she yelled as she rushed out after her husband. I was so angry that I went to the back and refused them when they came inside. She was up there yelling at the hostesses because I refused to come out and demanded that I come up for my apology. I didnt, told the girls to tell her to leave. She did but not after letting everyone know that they were never coming back again. I told my manager what happened and he was more upset that I didnt come get him and started arguing with me about it. He made it about himself because he wanted to yell at them. I hate him, he always wants to be in the middle of drama and hes unprofessional and belittling. I cant believe that I had just been sexual harrassed and he was angry with me because I felt the need to say something. I HAVE A RIGHT TO TALK IF I WANT TO!!! I’M THE FUCKING VICTIM DAMMIT!!!! And didnt I get you from the beginning?? Why didnt you go talk to the table after that?? Smh, I hate him. He also tried to make me feel bad and make a passive-aggressive, half threat about the possibility of corporate recieveing an email from the guests. Like why the fuck is that even a valid argument?? I am the one that was assaulted and we have it on video. Do you honestly think that corporate would fire me for that?? Fuck no! Unless they want a court case on their hands which I would GLADLY go through the trouble of doing. Its just insane that I felt uncomfortable and violated at work and I dont even get any fucking help from management. 

Later on that night, I went home and got ready to hangout with a guy I met and chilled with the night before. He was my lyft driver and really cool but that was short lived. We ended up having sex and he came in me without permission. When I asked him if he had, he said yes and then I got angry with him. I expressed my feelings and how stupid he was and he told me not to worry because he “takes care of all his kids” like???? BITCH I DONT WANT KIDS!!! This wasnt discussed like????? He laughed and argued back a little. “You didn’t even ask me if I was on birth control!”. “ Are you?” I glared at him, “ Don’t fucking ask me now dumbass, buy me a plan b wtf.”. He asked how much, “I don’t know, between 40 and 50 dollars”. “Hell fuck that. Nah. Not doing that sorry.”. I started arguing and he stopped me and said he would do it. Then we laid there in silence. “So you gunna be mad all night cuz I aint tryna be quiet like this all night. Like when you gunna stop being mad”. He was chuckling at me again…I stayed quiet but was cursing him out in my head. I was in disbelief that he was not understanding the level of violation he just put me through and that he had the audacity to tell me to get over it. I was on birth control but he didnt know that and that was a risk that I didnt appreciate. A selfish, stupid risk. Ugh, he made me sick. Such trash. I was going to make him give me 50 for the plan b I didnt need but fuck that. I wanted him out of my bed. I wanted him out of my fucking apartment! “I’m going to get the pill myself”, “ Oh, ok good”. What a piece of shit…he really is a fucking bum. He cant afford to get me a plan b but he can take care of my baby? Smh, such a garbage broke little bitch! “ Yeah, Imma get it and you need to go.” “Oh, for sure” he jumps up, gets dressed and goes to the living room. I put on my clothes, follow and watch him pack. He then angrily asks me if he can have his 20 dollars (I asked him to bring me a little bag of weed and I would pay him for it) and I told him that I had to get the pill and that was the least he could do. With added aggression, “So you keeping the weed or the twenty?”. I wanted to punch him in the face, Man he was a piece of shit. “Take you’re petty ass twenty and leave you broke ass nigga.”. He started arguing about leaving and I told him to get the fuck out that he doesnt get away with violating people and closed the door behind him. 

So, I’ve decided to refrain from boys for a while. I’ve tried to find a fwb but the guys I’ve met have been pathetic and aggrivating, broke bitches and I just don’t have the time or enegry for it. I’ve had two ask me for money like?? Hell nah bye!!!!!!! Ugh, I’m really done. Deleted the dating apps I had and everything. Just going to concentrate on my life, betterment and school. I can’t be living here in Texas longer than I want to and I can’t be stuck at this bullshit ass job that wears me out and doesnt pay enough. I gotta do better and be better. I deserve BETTERRRRRR!!!!

In other news, i paid off my Dade county court fee and turned in all the necessary documents and whatnot. Soon I will have my license back and be able to drive legally and with peace of mind. So, thats something to look forward too :) I also will be starting my one year of classes in September. Things are slowly falling into place and I can only continue to go up from here.