𝓢 @adollete - Tumblr Blog

seriena 𝜗ৎ she/they others soul

◟♯ . / 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 ! love letters in winter . denim soaked in sea water . bruised lip gloss . shy cigarette smoke . dead flowers on the dashboard . girl with a quiet storm in her ribs . pretty when she breaks . softer when she loves ♡

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒#﹒ ◠ 𝓢𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝓢𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 🥨 ˖ 𑣲 #˖ 𑣲 thoughts ﹒#cr/linadiaries #cursed carmine dividers

feimingo

𓆩♱𓆪 JANUARY DIVIDER DUMP

╰── 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 + 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝖾 "𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽 @/𝖿𝖾𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗈"

hex codes: #c7d0df, #58121f, #c5c6c4⋆. kw: angel, whimsygoth, vintage, wings, lace, ribbon, beads, necklace, silver

⋆.𐙚 requests r open!

muerdida

waynedoll

꒰ ✿ ₊ seriena in 🦇 sweet dreams ꒱

::: 𓍢ִ໋֒ / 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! sleepy doe-eyed . . . rosy pink-gloss kisses. laces slipping off her shoulders. fragile when she wakes, even prettier when she cries. soft whimpers at 5:05am. sweetheart curse && velvet bruises ♡

Ი 𐑼 . . . bruce wayne ♡ joel miller ♡ nanami kento

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒

waynedoll

You perch on Bruce’s lap in the middle of the night humming an unknown tune, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram as Bruce rubs slow circles on your back. His head rests in the crook of your neck, breathing smooth and calm, as if he isn’t fighting the bone-deep exhaustion he desperately needs to give in to.

“Baby, should we sleep now? I’m getting sleepy waiting for your little shopping time,” he murmurs. His hand stills on your back before he lifts his head from your neck, cupping your cheeks gently and tugging your attention away from your phone.

You pout. “I didn’t get what I want yet, Brucey.” With an exaggerated sigh, you fall against him dramatically, one hand on your chest to add to the act—anything to lure him into spending more time with you after patrol. “Still got lots to think about. What to buy. It’s stressing me out.”

“Sweetheart…” Bruce sighs, brows furrowing, lips pressed into a thin line as his body sinks into the leather chair. “I just got home from patrolling… cut me some slack, please, baby. I… really need rest this time.”

That’s new. Bruce is never this desperate for rest, at least not with you. He usually despises stopping even for a moment. After patrol he’d normally head straight down to the Batcave, analyzing Wayne Enterprises data or scanning for new Gotham crime patterns. But now… his eyes are already half-lidded, lips forming that soft pout he gets when he wants attention. His face leans into your small palm before his eyes flutter shut, his body going slack.

That’s when you know—you better be a good girl and not mess with his mood.

So you mumble an “okay,” slipping off his lap. He groans at the loss of warmth, but you quickly grab his hand, pulling him up from the chair and guiding him toward the bed. You push him gently by the shoulders, and he blinks at you in confusion.

“What is this about…? Are you mad at me, baby?”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you help him lie down properly, adjusting the pillow under his head before settling beside him with a tired huff. You slide one arm under his chest, the other around his torso, your chin tucked on top of his head.

That’s when he realizes—

“Am I the little spoon today?” he murmurs, amused at your attempt to be the big spoon, even though your arms barely reach halfway around him.

You mumble sleepily, “Yeah… wanna be the big spoon even though I’m clearly the princess one here. But that’s okay. Wanna spoil my man tonight.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, his heartbeat quickening as he feels your hands patting his back—the same way he always does when you fall asleep. You press a soft kiss to his forehead before murmuring a good night.

Bruce’s eyes soften in the dark. He leans in, resting his weight against your chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he whispers back, “I love you, baby.”

masterlist ♡

waynedoll

꒰ ✿ ₊ seriena in 𝓑's sweet dreams ꒱

::: 𓍢ִ໋֒ / 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! sleepy doe-eyed . . . rosy pink-gloss kisses. laces slipping off her shoulders. fragile when she wakes, even prettier when she cries. soft whimpers at 5:05am. sweetheart curse && velvet bruises ♡

Ი 𐑼 . . . bruce wayne ♡ joel miller ♡ nanami kento

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒

waynedoll

seriena 𝜗ৎ she/they ゛᭝ valentine baby ⸝⸝ ⋆

◟♯ . / 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒! sleepy-eyed ☆ cherry-gloss kisses. ribbons slipping off her shoulders. fragile when she wakes, even prettier when she cries. soft moans at 4:44am. sweetheart curse && velvet bruises ♡

₊𖥔 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓷 ! ۪ ♡ bruce wayne ♡ simon riley ♡ shiu kong ♡ joel miller ♡ nanami kento ♡ toji fushiguro ♡ riftan

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒

waynedoll

psst … seriena's off for a tiny break! she’ll be back 💌

seriena 𝜗ৎ she/they ゛᭝ valentine baby ⸝⸝ ⋆

◟♯ . / 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒! sleepy-eyed ☆ cherry-gloss kisses. ribbons slipping off her shoulders. fragile when she wakes, even prettier when she cries. soft moans at 4:44am. sweetheart curse && velvet bruises ♡

₊𖥔 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓷 ! ۪ ♡ bruce wayne ♡ simon riley ♡ shiu kong ♡ joel miller ♡ nanami kento ♡ toji fushiguro ♡ riftan

k4sy

The fight has been ugly for the past few months, ever since Toji lands a job that he promises will pay him handsomely.

He never smiles this wide while talking about his job, cradling Megumi at his side, rocking him to sleep back and forth as he rambles how the work will get him more than before and you will have a better lifestyle, no need to worry whether you have to scrap the leftover anymore.

And you trust him.

Even though he never keeps his promise. He’s the man of action anyway.

The first month of his job, he always fails to come home early, having a dinner with you and Megumi. No message, no answer when you call him to ask if he’s gonna make it to dinner like he “promised” or not.

That, you can tolerate.

And the second month of the job, the bruises, blood never leave his mouth. He coughs once as he leans against the wall, weakly. Hand presses on his waist to keep the wound out from the air. He hisses, head thrown back to the wall, his eyes crinkle in pain.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just take care of Megumi.”

You don’t know how much you have spend the money on meds, bandages, iodine to treat his open wound. You can’t remember. You only remember: he always comes home, bleeding profusely and new scar forms on top of the old one.

It starts with something small.

You try to have him sit down on his off day, grabbing his hand to have him look at you. Eyes almost pleading as you croak a word between sobs. “You need to stop this job. It’s hurting you, Toji.”

But of course, he sees this as a threat.

All of a sudden, he snatches his hand from your grip, rising to his feet before the once loving expression turns into a cold, dead one. “You don’t get to talk about anything. I’m the one who works this hard to have this house moving. To have the fucking bill running so you can live peacefully while I shed tears and blood, not knowing if I would be alive to come home to both of you.”

He scoffs, running his hand through his hair, walking back and forth as if the situation is too much for him to handle but—

“You don’t realize this,” you say, voice shaking as you rise from your seat. “You’re hurting our family too! I don’t give a fuck about your job.”

You grab his arms, turning him to face you. Cupping his face, pressing your forehead to his. Sobbing. Hurting. “You’re hurting Megumi too, Toji. He needs his father. He needs you in his life. Please, baby. I—” your voice breaks. “There’s no warmth in this family after you got the job. It’s killing us.”

Your brow furrows, fingers grasping his cheeks tightly, forcing him to realise this is not working.

“Then leave.”

You lift your forehead from his.

Confusion is written all over your face, tears streaking your cheeks. The sight makes Toji’s heart clench but he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t want you to win.

“W-what do you mean? L-leave?”

“Yes. Leave.”

His voice is too calm. Too peaceful. As if he doesn’t shatter your heart into pieces when he utters those words.

Your hands drop to your side. The movement is weak. Lifeless — like you’re already giving up in this relationship. “I give my everything to keep this house alive too… Megumi… He—”

“He’s my son. Not yours. You’re not his real mother, Y/N.” He grabs your shoulder, shaking you with every word, as if his sentence is final, waking you up from the reality that no one ever wants you.

“B-but… it was real to me.”

“Everything is real in your fairytale, darling.” He chuckles, mocking, lips parting to speak again but you stop him. Raising your hand between you, lips stammering.

“Y-you’re right. I’m too delusional. I keep grasping something that’s not real to make a fairytale dream achieve. I— you’re absolutely right.”

With that, you withdraw from his grip.

Dragging your feet weakly to the bedroom, leaving Toji alone in the living room, letting him feel the satisfaction of making the family crumble. Again.

You don’t know whether to stay or leave anymore.

But seeing how Toji doesn’t even glance at your direction anymore, back turned when you sleep together. Less time spent with Megumi. No dinner together. No yelling but the silence always kills you.

This is your cue to leave.

Your presence isn’t appreciated anymore by anyone in this house. Not even the man you love the most.

You feel like an outcast in the house you once call home.

part I | part III

🏷️list: @matchawful @satorupied @xnitz @d4rno @caughtz @wcke6 @piercddprincess @earth2t @valkyrieanqel @savedenji @littlebodybigbimbo @gojosballsack69 @grignardsreagent @skinstickets @sugar-malice @blossomingluv @bbgniecyy @poisonkissws @erishisgami @riribibisworld @preeyas-world @ushygushybaby @crocodilethesir @dollfavs @wr4inn @thesameoldboo @yxxtxxa @artbymin @ithinkilovevanilla @alebrasil0101 @fanficlvr1 @fruitietea @nooshie11037 @nommingonfood @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred @vehuzzzz @primaddona-girl @emoedgylord

aww I accidentally deleted my old themeeeeee (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒

adollete

seriena 𝜗ৎ she/they others soul

◟♯ . / 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 ! love letters in winter . denim soaked in sea water . bruised lip gloss . shy cigarette smoke . dead flowers on the dashboard . girl with a quiet storm in her ribs . pretty when she breaks . softer when she loves ♡

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒#﹒ ◠ 𝓢𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝓢𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 🥨 ˖ 𑣲 #˖ 𑣲 thoughts ﹒

linadiaries

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶lana ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

#﹒ ◠ 𝓓𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝓓𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⊹ ﹒#hell is a teenage girl #girlblogging #this is what makes us girls #just girly things #girlcore #this is a girlblog #girl interrupted

waynedoll

The crime rate in Gotham is getting worse lately—apparently because of the weather. Yes, it sounds ridiculous to you. But it doesn’t feel ridiculous when a man suddenly jumps out from behind, snatches your jacket from your hands before you can even put it on, and sprints away before you can react.

It completely ruins your day. Mascara streaks stain your cheeks as you perch on Bruce’s lap, sobbing uncontrollably over the stolen jacket.

“It’s the fur jacket I adore so much. Why does he need to do that?” you sob, lips pouty as you wipe your tears on Bruce’s tie. “He could ask me for money and I would gladly give him some.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts before flattening when he catches your death glare, warning him not to laugh. To him, the situation is funny and cute. You’re crying over something he can replace in a second. But he doesn’t mind. He needs a break from work anyway.

“You want me to buy a new one, baby? You know it’s just a jacket,” he murmurs, voice smooth and soothing as his thumb traces slow circles on your back. It’s his silent gesture whenever you get stressed like this.

You shake your head and whine, lightly hitting his chest. “It’s not just a jacket! It’s Prada, Brucey. You don’t understand.” Your voice hiccups, tiny and desperate.

Bruce chuckles softly. He cups your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to whisper against them, “I’ll get the vintage one the moment you wake up from your nap, okay?”

He understands why you’re reacting differently. You haven’t had your pretty nap yet. Normally, you’d brush something like this off and demand a new one without shedding a single tear. But, you barged into his office in the afternoon—cold, sniffling, exhausted from the weather and the moment you flopped on his lap like a needy cat, rubbing your mascara-stained cheek on his Armani suit, he knew this was going to be dramatic… but adorable.

“Okay…” you mumble, coughing lightly as he lifts you and adjusts your position so your legs tuck beneath you. Your chilly body warms instantly when he wraps you in his jacket. All that comfort makes you drowsy. After a few yawns, your eyes flutter closed.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, patting your back and rubbing slow lines up and down as he leans the chair back so you can lie against him comfortably. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, smiling when he hears your breathy little snore.

“Sleep tight, baby.”

And, the moment you opened your eyes there's the exact copy of your stolen vintage Prada jacket—just like he promises. You’re not sure how many kisses you cover his face with afterwards, but one thing is for sure:

Bruce is definitely getting lucky tonight!

masterlist ♡