#intrcpidreporter

Put a word in my inbox and I’ll write a headcanon about it! | Accepting

Loss is something Bruce never learned to deal with in a healthy way. He lost his parents as a child and has never truly gotten over it, after the loss of Jason as well he nearly allowed himself to follow. Throwing his life into his work as Batman and only resurfacing when Tim Drake dragged him back from the brink.

When he losses something he cares about very deeply he becomes more reclusive, not even talking to those closest to him (Like Alfred) and instead doubles or triples his efforts to rid Gotham (and in some cases the world at large) of crime, thinking that if he could just have moved a little faster, thought a bit harder, trained a bit more he could have saved the one he lost. So he fights harder and trains non-stop. Nearly killing himself from exhaustion or nearly killing another with his newfound brutality.

“Do not pick me up. That’s… inappropriate in some form, I am absolutely positive of it. And I don’t want to be picked up. I can walk, even in these heels. I tapped my toes together.” 

“ Ms. Lane...I understand that you’re a strong, capable woman and all... but you look like you’re undergoing torture in those things.”

     She insisted he let her suffer walk on her own, and yet Kaito insisted on scooping the journalist into his arms, anyways.

It had been 21 days since they’d last met. Just three weeks shy of when the world nearly ended. In the grand scheme of things, the wounds of the city had barely begun to heal; but for Clark, those mere twenty-one days felt like a lifetime. Every morning before sun up, long until sun down, Clark remained in the city as Superman. Trying to assist the rescue workers often resulted in mixed reactions; on the regular, mankind had put aside their concerns and welcomed his help. Hours and hours they break and bandage the shards of the city ------- rescuing the trapped, and retrieving the long dead. Some days, it was worse. Day in, and day out, he’d push himself. When he came home to Ma, he was often too exhausted to stand. He’d cry. God, he would cry ----- harder than he’d ever cried before. Martha would hold him however, kiss his forehead and tell him that everything would be alright. In those darkest moments, he’d think about her though. Lois Lane. A constant on his mind, and yet...for three weeks, not a single word had been spoken to one another. What was he supposed to say? The lack of an answer didn’t diminish the desire to try, though. That’s what led him to her hotel balcony in the late of night. 

Finding her temporary place of stay wasn’t all that difficult; encouraging himself to stay while he waited for her to return was the hard part. His nerves brought him to a sweat; teeth gnawing at the corner of his lip, while he went over the varying scenarios that played out inside his head. What if she didn’t want to see him? He was an alien, after all --- and a stranger, even if they knew each other by name ( and by kiss ). Her involvement in saving the world, in comforting him during the aftermath did not mean that she was hoping he’d just fly back into her life after twenty-one days of nothing. The thought of rejection had him on the verge of disappearing, and yet knowing that there was a chance that she’d look at him and smile  ------- kept him in place.

 Thirteen minutes of waiting, and finally she was home. He braced himself, sucking in a deep breath and relaxing his shoulders, just before the lights flickered on. 

he hasn’t personally known lois lane for very long but -- he doesn’t have to to know she’s pushy, demanding, and determined. very few people force their way into bruce wayne’s space -- very few want to -- but it seems more people have been trying. lois, in particular. he can see why she and kent were drawn to each other -- they’re kindred spirits, from what he knows of the fallen hero. 

stepping aside, bruce lets her into the vast space of the metropolis penthouse that sits above the city’s skyline. it’s minimalist and empty, not unlike the glass house he frequents back in gotham. this home is a home in passing, though -- a very strategic location, too. a low chuckle escapes him as he takes the armful right out of her hands with ease, setting it down on the table in the parlor. his computer’s open and there’s reading glasses on the table nearby, the only sign that someone’s occupying the place. everything’s a little too prim and put together.

*smooches*

LMAO. i 100% went with lexcorp exes because you know Lex WOULD NEVER be linked to crimes with proof like that

Lois was almost sure she should go, but when did she ever back away from danger? “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” she said.