#It is kind of concerning to see people just make shit up to sound smart about fairly serious topics like that just for clout

[gorps]

Apas-95 doing posts about how they are right about what it takes to train with firearms and getting workers military training while having never shot a gun in their life is really funny. What's kind of less funny is that they openly encourage people to commit felonies that would land any leftist training group in jail for 20+ years and bar them from ever handling firearms again. If they aren't an idiot they're a cop.

(tags are important I just wrote too much there and don't want to copy it here)

[geeks-universe]

Thanks to the lovely anon, here’s another sneak peak of the one shot that’s actually gonna be two lol (keep in mind this is still a work in progress and will likely be edited before posting)

Cooper Howard was deep in thought the first time he met you.

He’d been sitting on a park bench, mentally running over some of his lines for what could’ve been hours before he realized someone was now occupying the spot beside him.

It was a woman.

A pretty one.

A sad one.

Ever the gentleman, he cleared his throat, cautiously asking, “Everything alright?”

The look you gave him was a tired one, shoulders weighed down with a weight he didn’t know of. You chewed on your lip- a habit, if the way you did it unconsciously told him anything.

His eyes threatened to follow, but he refused to let them. He was an honorable man, and a loyal one. The strain is his marriage would pass, and he wouldn’t be the one to throw it away for a pretty face.

A very tantalizing, pretty face.

“If you knew the world was going to end, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it, what would you do?”

He was surprised by the question, concerned even, with the state of the world. The way you asked it was so melancholy, a fact as true as the clouds in the sky.

A beat passed as he tried best to formulate an answer, your eyes trained on the park in front of you once more. It was a nice day, the kind where a calm breeze didn’t make you shiver, but the air was just as fine without one.

Peaceful, he’d say.

Not the kind where doomsday propositions were answered, but he couldn’t refuse your question- not when you gazed at him sideways, like you didn’t expect him to have an answer.

“I’d try anyways.”

You blew out a breath, nodding visibly as if his words had solidified a conversation you were having with yourself. The tenseness in your shoulders lessened, and the beginnings of a smile pulled at your lips.

“You’re the hero type, then?”

He breathed a laugh, shrugging in an almost humble manner.

“I just play one in the movies.”

The surprise on your face was evident. Clearly, you had no idea who he was. It wasn’t unheard of, but his reputation had blown up, so he hadn’t expected it.

Actor of the Century, indeed.

You hummed, a light sound that matched the birds chirping in the trees above.

“What movies?”

He raised a brow, smiling a bit at the interest on your face. You were leaning back on the bench now, arms crossed over your chest. His first assessment of you had been military, maybe.

You weren’t in frilly skirts or a smart pantsuit that frequented the local areas. Instead, you were in tight fitting black jeans and a leather jacket that looked like it’d seen better days, an armor of sorts to the outside world. Your hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid, strands framing your face like they’d fallen out on their own.

Without the forlorn expression though, you looked too young to be some grizzled general. There was something in your eyes, a camaraderie between two people who had seen some shit, but you hadn’t yet lost that youthful radiance.

“Why don’t you figure that one out,” he teased, a winning smile reaching his eyes.

“Alright, stranger,” you laughed, jumping to your feet.

The breeze blew your scent over him- honey and peaches and all the comforts of home. It was intoxicating, and he was reminded once again why continuing this conversation was dangerous.

“Next time I see you, I expect an autograph.”

He didn’t even have time to say a proper goodbye before you were walking away, newfound confidence in your gait.

The strange interaction stayed with him for the rest of the week.

[promptthebear]

Hi, I would love if you could just tell me anything you think about Edmund Pevensie 🧺 literally could be anything I just want to hear your thoughts ❤️

💗Edmund Pevensie Fluff Alphabet💗

A/N: Okay so I know I’ve been doing like all the alphabet templates lately but honestly they’re a lot of fun for me and people seem to enjoy them so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

CW: I don't think there is anything for this? It's fluff, so not much in terms of triggering content. The reader is female and referred to as Edmund's wife and queen.

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

For Edmund, I think he’d admire someone who’s smart, has a strong moral compass but isn’t so rigid that they can’t see the grey areas, and a good sense of humour is a must.

Ultimately, I don’t think he’d set out intentionally looking for a partner to rule Narnia with him but he’d end up choosing someone with those qualities subconsciously. His sense of duty to Narnia is just too strong to avoid that.

It would start off in small ways, he’d tell you about some messy political issue he’s working out and want to know your hypothetical opinion on the matter. He’d also bring up lots of philosophical subjects casually, and maybe even ask if you’ve engaged with any Narnian legal texts.

You don’t have to have a highly educated background to impress Ed or keep his affections, but he would appreciate if you listened and tried to contribute. At the very least you can act as a sounding board for his ideas, even if you wouldn’t be comfortable ruling in your own right. Someone who’s going to brush his concerns aside and accuse him of bringing down the mood or interrupt the conversation to focus on more frivolous topics isn’t going to be a good fit. You need to do at least a little bit of thinking to keep up with Edmund, he’s going to want a stimulating conversation now and again.

However you also can’t be so stuffy that Ed can’t joke around with you. Our boy may not be the little shit he once was, but he needs a partner who can see the funny side to things especially when he’s dealing with anything heavy. Humour is his primary coping mechanism, and if you don’t understand that then it’s not going to work out.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Edmund’s not really a superficial kind of guy. I think he’s more concerned about what you’re like as a person that what you’re like physically. However, I can also see him being a sucker for someone who smiles a lot and has pretty eyes. We already know, he’s a jokester and if you look extra nice every time he makes your face light up, well that’s just an added bonus.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I can see him liking having his partner’s head on his chest while he’s got an arm around their waist or shoulder. He also likes being the big spoon, I have a personal head canon that he grew up lanky as fuck so it’s easier that way regardless.

Generally Edmund likes feeling as though he can protect and guard his partner, that’s what happens when you’ve been king since age 10. But, sometimes he’s tried and in those rare moments of vulnerability he’s going to want to put his head in your lap for awhile. When he gets like this I’d also advise rubbing his back or stroking his hair, he’ll melt in seconds.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

To me, Edmund’s always been a bit more of an introvert and what he likes to do for dates reflects that. He’s not the type to throw a massive party or feast just so he can be your escort to it. He’s much more likely to arrange a private picnic somewhere on the grounds, or take you out for a ride with Phillip on a trail with nice scenery or to a play put on by a local performing troupe.

It’s not that he won’t take you to tournaments and things like that. He loves having you on his arm and showing you off to the public, but it’s exhausting being King Edmund all the time. If you want to really get to know him, take him up on those quiet, simple dates. He’ll be much more relaxed and you’ll have a lot more fun too.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Oh goodness, I think this really depends on when and how Edmund meets you. If you’ve known him since childhood, you’re going to get the full range without a lot of filters. Ed would know that you know him too well to try and hide anything, and he’s always been the type to speak his mind even if he’s gotten more pragmatic about it.

If the two of you meet for the first time when you’re both grown and he’s been ruling for awhile, you’re going to get a lot of King Edmund at first. That includes all the performative bull crap that comes with the title.

He’s going to be all smiles and up for a friendly chat, but still somehow very aloof and every answer he gives is couched in pragmatism so you don’t really know what he’s thinking about certain topics. To the rest Narnia, he’s their grinning, boyish King. But if you’re close enough you can see, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, they’re flat and empty or even a little sad sometimes.

If this is the scenario, Ed probably won’t really let you in until the two of you are married or officially courting. It’s just too much of a risk, he’s got his people to think of and they need to know they’re in the hands of a strong leader. There’s no place for insecurity or vulnerability on the throne.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Honestly, the answer to this is yes and as soon as possible. When the two of you are married, Edmund would want to start trying for a baby right away. Or, if a biological child isn’t possible, then looking into some options to foster or adopt.

Unfortunately for Edmund, being a dad is kind of a deal breaker. If you don’t want kids yourself I can’t really see him wanting to commit to you long term. And there’s a couple reasons for this.

The first is, personally, that he really wants to be a father. He’s wanted this ever since their first visit to Narnia after his own family got him back from Jadis. In that moment he understood the blessing of the love he’s been given and as he got a bit older, he wanted to share that love with a family of his own.

The second reason is the Prophecy from the first book. There was never an addendum about what would happen if there were no longer human rulers in Narnia, but I can see Edmund doing a lot of research about it anyway. In the end, he’d probably decide it was better safe than sorry for him and Peter to have a few children each to act as heirs.

Somewhere in Edmund’s heart, he’s always been a bit paranoid about Jadis coming back. Not because he’s worried about himself or being tempted by her again, but more so because of what she promised to do to Narnia and the people he cares about if she ever got the chance. Making sure there’s always going to be Pevensies on the throne is just added security against that.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

So with Edmund, I feel like he’s the type to prefer a little, meaningful gift over a big, expensive sort of gesture and his own habits around gifts reflect that.

Yes, he’ll go out of his way for major occasions like birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. But the rest of the year, you can expect little surprises from Edmund. The next book in the series you were reading just because, maybe a sachet of your favourite tea the next time he goes to market. He’s also not very artistic, but I can see him writing you love notes and giving those to you as gifts. He’d put lots of effort into those, with fancy paper and flourishing letters and coloured inks.

When it comes to getting presents from you, Edmund would just absolutely die from happiness if you made him something. It doesn’t have to be big or fancy or even well made. He’d accept a woven bookmark you cobbled together from scraps of ribbon or thread and treat it like it’s his most precious treasure. Just the idea that you cared enough to try and also made something that’s specially for him that nobody else has, it would make his heart soar. Also you can bet he’s going to be showing off whatever it is you made to anyone within earshot for ages afterwards.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time lol.

With Edmund being King, the two of you don’t have a lot of privacy and PDA is generally frowned upon. Holding hands is the most acceptable way Edmund can show his love for you in front of everyone.

If the two of you are watching a tournament, he’ll reach for your hand and bring it over to rest on his leg with his own hand on top. If the two of you are rubbing elbows with courtiers at a ball or feast, he’s going to be holding your hand the entire time. If you’re sitting next to each other in the throne room and listening to appeals or the like, Edmund’s going to be holding your hand.

In part, it’s because he wants to show the two of you as a united front to the rest of the world. It’s also because he finds your touch soothing and it can ground him when things get out of control. If you find he’s getting a bit overwhelmed, maybe his shoulders start tensing or his jaw clenches, just give his hand a squeeze. You’ll see the anxiety leave him in seconds, and he’ll squeeze your hand back to let you know he understands what you’re trying to say. You’re here, you love him, and it’s going to be okay.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Burn the whole world to the gr-

I’m kidding I promise. But if you get hurt, oh boy, everyone watch out.

With you, Edmund is going to be the gentlest, most anxious man. He’s going to want to take a look at the wound himself even with the best doctors available. He’ll be reading up on treatments both magical and mundane, herbal remedies, all of it. Anything he thinks may help or ease your pain.

Be prepared for lots of fussing, tea and massages if you’re sore. There’s also probably going to be times where you glance up and see Ed watching you with this puppy dog kind of look, and you know he’s worrying about you AGAIN even if you’re on the mend. Try to be patient and reassuring, he just loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

When it comes to the person who hurt you, however? All bets are off. Edmund is THE definition of “looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill you”. Whoever hurt you better PRAY that you or Ed’s siblings are there to pull him off or they’re in for the beat down of their life. He’s been Peter’s second in fights for years and while he doesn’t usually start them, he knows plenty well how to finish them.

Expect at some point for Edmund to leave your sickbed, saying he has “something that needs his attention” only to come back to you with a split lip and bruised knuckles. If you press him for an explanation, he’ll play coy and act like he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. Whoever hurt you, IF they survive or aren’t run out of the kingdom on a rail, won’t so much as look in your direction ever again. You’re Edmund’s queen, and so long as you walk in Narnia you’ll be protected as such.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Oh my god have you MET this man???

Edmund is mischievous to a fault, he never quite grew out of that smart aleck streak of his and now it’s your problem.

You can expect everything from foolishness like swapping the salt and sugar for your tea to more elaborate schemes that he’ll drag his siblings into. There was probably more than one incident involving some minor spells that backfired and caused more chaos than they were worth. Ie. Edmund finds someone to cast a glamour that makes him have a crow’s head or something so he can jump out and scare you. It works a treat, but then he discovers that he still SOUNDS like a crow hours after the physical glamour wore off and he’s got to give an official speech to the council like WHOOPS.

He is also the KING of snark, sarcasm and inside jokes. The two of you are going to have a whole litany of nonsense that will send you into giggle fits but just confuse everyone else. Edmund also loves to make you laugh at moments that are maybe less than appropriate.

Peter has stopped letting the two of you sit together at any kind of serious event because you cannot behave. It’s not your fault though, Edmund keeps pulling faces and saying “Egg tart” which makes you think about that one time on that picnic with the centaurs and…okay Peter doesn’t get it but if he’d been there he’d understand why you’re giggling.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

So obviously Edmund likes giving you kisses on the mouth. He could do that for hours and never get bored. However, I can also see him enjoying giving you “courtly” kisses on the back of your hand or your knuckles. If the two of you met when you were grown ups, this is probably the first kind of kiss he ever gave you and even if it was just a social expectation, it’s still a memory Edmund cherishes. Nose kisses are also a big thing with him, but only because they make you giggle, which he loves.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I mean first and foremost, Edmund is going to tell you he loves you about a million times a day. He’d probably be a lot like Wesley in the Princess Bride novel, where he’d be having the most mundane conversation with you like “Yes it’s supposed to rain a lot over the next fortnight so Peter wants to gather some workers and help sandbag the farmlands to avoid flooding and also I love you.” He says it pretty much any time it pops into his head.

He’d also try to show you in lots of other ways. Spending quality time is a big one since he’s busy and has so many people needing his attention. He relishes the quiet moments the two of you have together, evenings spent reading or playing chess, peaceful mornings snuggled up in bed. These don’t happen as often as he’d like, so if you suggest wanting to “stay in” on the rare occasion he does have some time off, he’ll eat the opportunity right up.

Acts of service would be another one, he wants to try and help with whatever you need. If you write poetry and need someone as a test audience? He’s your guy. If you knit and need someone to hold your yarn while you spool it? Ed’s there. Any hobbies you have, he’s going to want to want to be an active participant and barring that, he’ll be as helpful as he can.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Honestly this is so cheesy but probably your first kiss.

If the two of you met and had an organic relationship, that memory to Edmund reflects the moment you started to belong to each other. Before that, the two of you were just friends. Close friends, but Ed always secretly hoped for more. And then with that one little action, everything changed. The two of you went from friendship to all the possibilities a new romance brings in a matter of seconds.

He thinks about it all the time, the way his heart was in his throat, the warmth in his gut when your lips met his, the pretty flush on your cheeks afterwards. He’d replay every moment leading up to the kiss too, trying to sort out exactly when you may have decided to kiss him or let him kiss you. Sometimes he gets himself all flustered and silly just thinking about it, and then he has to go and find you just so he can recreate the experience all over again.

If the two of you were in a arranged marriage though and your first kiss happened at your wedding, Edmund still treasures that memory. You were little more than strangers, but he still felt his heart skip a beat when he lifted your veil and saw you looking back up at him with bright, sincere eyes. And when he felt you kiss him back, chaste and quick as the kiss was? It was in that moment Edmund started to fall for you. Neither of you had asked to be put in this situation, yet here you were giving him your trust and kindness anyway. How could he not love someone like that???

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

I’ve talked about this a little before, but honestly for Edmund it would and always will be Jadis coming back.

He knows in his heart that he’s safe, at least. He trusts Aslan enough to know that no matter what happens, Jadis isn’t ever getting hold of him ever again. But when it comes to his family, his romantic partner and any future children he may have? Well, that’s when things get a little dicey.

As he and his family got older, they’d see Aslan less and less. And while Edmund still has a lot of faith in him, he’s also only human. When you care about people, you worry about them, and worry can lead to doubt.

He’d try to ease his anxiety by gathering any and all knowledge available on Jadis and her history with Narnia. Obviously a lot of what’s available in print has either been suppressed or destroyed, so he’s relying mainly on oral resources or archival materials related to Jadis as a secondary topic ie. anything about the Deep Magic.

This wouldn’t be an easy way to get the information he’s looking for, a lot of it is contradictory or parts of it written in languages that are no longer used. Still, Edmund would do the best he could to try and glean SOMETHING from what’s available to him. As far as he’s concerned, when it comes to your safety and the safety of his family, he will go to the ends of Narnia itself to ensure it.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Ed’s in love he’s…well, distracted. If he’s sparring with Peter, his brother may score a couple of easy hits Ed would normally block. Lucy might have to say his name a few times before he notices she’s trying to ask him something. Susan would find lots of abandoned teacups around the library, their contents half drunk and gone cold.

Of course, they all immediately know what’s going on and will tease him relentlessly. Or rather Peter and Lucy will do it openly, while Susan insists she wouldn’t stoop to such lows but really she’s just more subtle about it.

I imagine the conversation going a little something like this. Lucy would say Edmund’s name several times in succession but he’s staring out the window or into the fireplace at the fire, clearly off in his own world. Peter would go “Never mind, Lu, I’ll take care of it” followed by “Oh HELLO Y/N”

Edmund would immediately snap to attention, turning to face the doorway with bright and eager eyes. Peter and Lucy of course dissolve into giggles, which makes Edmund huff and cross his arms. Susan would try and scold them for picking on Edmund, but she’s smiling too so it doesn’t really have the desired effect.

This all comes from a place of love, of course, but Ed also knows he is NEVER going to live it down.

When it comes to you and realizing Ed has a crush on you depends on how well you can read people in general. If you’re perceptive enough, you might pick up on it. If not, he’s going to be the same Edmund as always. I can’t see him really being the type to flirt or try to seduce you, at most you’ll see him more often.

Like he’s suddenly just around a lot more and while you can’t place your finger on why, that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy to see him either. Despite you knowing how busy he is, he magically has all the time in the world where you’re concerned.

Planning to go to the market later? He’ll tag along. Want to take a trail ride? He’s there. Need something off a high shelf? Oh look here comes Ed just in time. He’s 100% blowing off royal duties and the like to be with you, but don’t worry too much about it. If Peter catches you two, Edmund’s the one who’s going to be in trouble anyway.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Probably just the typical stuff. Darling, sweetheart, dear, dearest, love. The only one I can kind of see being different for him is beloved if the two of you have been married for awhile, and probably only if you’re either very upset and need comfort or if the two of you have been…doing what married couples do lol.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship

With Edmund, I feel like the most beneficial “quirk” he has is his ability to negotiate and work through arguments.

Is this more of a slowly acquired skill than a quirk? Yes, but you can’t deny it isn’t both incredibly helpful and also sometimes incredibly annoying.

If you’re the type who wants to argue to blow off steam, Ed is going to drive you up the wall. When you come at him, sassing off and ready to GO, he’s not going to match your energy. Instead, he’s going to be calm and reasonable which will probably just piss you off more but he’s going to keep being so rational which will in turn just amp you up but again he refuses to give you the reaction you want which just makes you angrier and...well, you get the idea.

You're probably going to want to take up some kind of athletic hobby if this is you, like sword fighting or something along those lines. Trust me, it'll be much easier to take out your frustrations on a training dummy then it would be to goad Ed into getting angry with you. Better yet, go rattle Peter's cage a bit. He's always down for a good ol' fashioned argument or snark off, plus there's the added entertainment value for Edmund.

If you aren't the confrontational sort though? Well, the two of you are going to be perfect together. Edmund is an excellent communicator, he won't ever raise his voice to you and is generally pretty good at keeping emotion out of the equation so he can consider every aspect of the problem. Whether this is an issue that involves the two of you directly, or a problem you're having with someone else, Edmund will help walk you through it.

Please go to him when you're all worked up, he loves nothing more than to help you and has mastered telling someone to go fuck themselves in a way that still sounds polite. With him on your side, you'll never lose an argument ever again...except maybe sometimes to him lol. But again, he states his point so well and so sensibly that you don't find yourself minding too much either.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

I almost wasn't going to do this one because CS Lewis never actually published any music that exists within the Narnia universe, unlike say GRR Martin or Tolkien. HOWEVER, I am also extremely stubborn, a former English major and a choir kid at heart. This means I have a weirdly expansive knowledge of English and Celtic folk songs, and I finally settled on this one.

Now, obviously this is a modern recording (from 1996) BUT this is an old af song, and it sounds like to me that it would be sung around Narnia as a folk ballad because why not?

I figure your connection to Edmund through this song is because the both of you have heard the other one humming it on some occasion. Then, one day, maybe before the two of you get together, Edmund drops a yellow apple into your lap.

You didn't ask him for it, and he didn't say anything about giving it to you. Suddenly, there it was sitting on the open pages of your book or atop your embroidery or something. And you look up at him, and he gives you that wry smile that makes him look like a boy again, and you just know. This is his overture, his way of telling you he loves you without actually saying outright lest you break his heart. And you take a bite of that yellow apple, and it's so sweet and crisp and perfect, and from then on, that's who Edmund was to you. Fresh apples, chaste kisses and ballads hummed softly on warm, sunny afternoons.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Give it time, and there won't be a lot Edmund hides from you. Lying and keeping secrets has gotten him in trouble before, and he's sworn he's never going back. He realizes now, that honesty is the best policy and needing help doesn't make him weak. Plus, if you've been together for long enough you'll be able to read him so well he won't have much luck hiding things from you anyway.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I think it depends on the situation, really.

If the two of you grew up together, well, years in that case. The two of you were always very affectionate, but it didn't turn romantic until the two of you were in your late teens. In that particular situation, falling in love was just the natural next step. It's familiar, cozy, and nobody is surprised when Edmund announces he intends to court you officially. That courting period is also really just a formality, your family always knew you were going to end up with Edmund from the first time he came to visit.

If the two of you have an arranged marriage however? Well, that's going to change things. Did you want to get married? Do you actually like Edmund at first or did you get a poor first impression? Do you have an old love you're still holding a torch for? These are all going to influence how your relationship with Ed goes past the wedding. Depending on any of these factors, you could be looking at anything from six months to a few years.

Proximity would really be key in deciding how that relationship plays out. Edmund probably knows the chances of romantic love happening instantly in a romantic relationship are slim to none. But he hopes to be friends at least, you're stuck with each other so why not make the best of it? He isn't looking for anything else, but he's also such a charming, sweet man that in the end you probably couldn't help yourself.

After being around him for so much time, you'd eventually ease into loving him properly. From then on, the charade you have for the court as a married couple stops being a charade and becomes a little glimpse for everyone into what the relationship actually is behind closed doors. All it takes is the right spark for this to eventually blossom into a full blown romance.

If the two of you meet when you're grown and form a relationship without the pressure of impending matrimony, then that's what's going to have the shortest amount of time between when you first meet and when you become a couple. Edmund would make his intentions clear within a couple of months of knowing you, and from there a typical courting period would follow.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Hugs. So many hugs. Anyone remember that scene in Zootopia where Judy walks over to Nick and bumps her head against his chest while she's crying? That's Edmund. You can work out the details later. At first, his main priority is going to be to hold you close and put himself between you and whatever's got you so worked up. He won't mind in the least if you want to cry on him either. If anything, that just makes him squeeze tighter with maybe a few "It's alright, love" or "I'm heres" murmured into your hair.

Once you've calmed down a bit, then he's ready to listen. Just pour your heart out to him, he won't miss a single detail and he'll be sure to help you work through any problem no matter how convoluted or insignificant it seems. He will also probably get someone to bring you some tea or make a cup himself while you're filling him in. What can I say? The English are like us Maritimers in that aspect, nothing can't be fixed with a good, warm cuppa.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Edmund's proud of a few things, even if he's a little more subtle about them. His family, for one. He loves his siblings so much and every accomplishment of theirs is worth celebrating no matter how small.

He's also very proud of his kingdom. Narnia is his home, his salvation and his joy. He wouldn't be who he is without it, and he wants you to try and understand that the best you can. Expect to go on lots of trips to little out of the way wonders you didn't even know about, and lots of scenic locations on dates. Admire each and every inch with Edmund, from local folk festivals to sunsets to fields of wildflowers. There's nothing about this country he doesn't love, and the only thing better than experiencing it on his own is with you.

Edmund would also love showing you off. Whether you dress up or are just going casual for the day, he wants everyone to see you. To admire your beauty the way he does. The only thing he loves more than Narnia is you, and damned if he's going to rest until the world realizes it. Expect him to take you to lots of council meetings, political events and the like.

They may not involve you in the slightest, in fact you may sit there the whole time knitting or writing or sketching and not paying much attention, but that's okay. Edmund just wants you there for moral support and also again, so everyone can have a look at you. Each subtle touch to his arm, each whisper in his ear or kiss on his cheek. He relishes those little moments because it shows everyone he belongs to the most amazing woman in the world.

Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Edmund really, really doesn't want you fighting. He's seen the mess war makes, and wants you as far from that as possible. However, if you can hold your own in battle, then he'll at least concede once he witnesses it for himself. From then on, he's happy to fight alongside you, maybe even listing you as his second in tournaments, not that anyone can ever beat him lol.

If you're not the fighting type, however, then Edmund makes it his personal mission to be your knight in shining armour. Expect him to ask for your favour when he goes to fight or joust in tourneys or before going to battle. He may not want you anywhere near the bloodshed, but having those little reminders of what he's fighting for means he's all the more likely to come back to you in one piece.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

So very well. Good luck keeping secrets, because this man will be able to read you with a glance. This comes from Edmund's own pragmatic nature, as well as the fact that he needs to be able to read a room moments after entering. If you're even the least bit on edge, Ed will be pulling you aside for a quiet moment and won't rest until he gets to the bottom of things.

He'd also know you're pregnant the second you're sure of it yourself. All it would take is the slightest shift in your expression or the way you carry yourself, and boom, that's it. He'd be asking you about your health and baby names and won't leave well alone until you tell him. Like I said, good luck keeping secrets. He's clever and stubborn, not a winning combination for someone you're trying to hide things from.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

So with Edmund, I feel like there are two different proposals.

The first is going to be your private proposal. It may involve a ring, it may not. Case in point, Edmund is going to try and have quiet moment with you to ask before all the chaos that comes with a royal wedding beings.

He may take you to the spot where you had your first date, or arrange a special dinner or even just do it in the comfort of your own chambers. He'll probably either light some candles or get jars of fireflies or make use of some naturally bio-luminescent plants that grow around for mood lighting.

He'd probably also wrap a blindfold around your eyes or have you cover them before guiding you in. He's surprised you with things before, but you'd really have no idea what he's planning until you open your eyes or take the blindfold off and see him kneeling in front of you.

He wouldn't even be able to get the whole question out before you're down there with him, exclaiming "Yes, yes! Of course I will!" I between the many, many kisses you're giving him. If he gets a ring, it'll probably be a very simple silver band he had one of his dwarven friends make for you. You'll get a fancier, bejewelled ring later on when things are officially announced, but again Edmund still wants you to have something that's just for the two of you to share before the whole kingdom gets involved.

The formal proposal would come later, which would be a big ceremony with all the fanfare and everyone invited, royal, noble or otherwise. You'd be standing next to Edmund in front of the four thrones when he makes the announcement. A raucous cacophony of cheers would follow, the sound so loud you can feel it reverberating in the hollows of your collarbones.

This would be the one and only time anxiety would set in, because you'd realize that this means you aren't just going to be Edmund's wife, but a Queen of Narnia. However, before you can start to spiral Edmund would give your hand a squeeze, and your mind quiets. In spite of your doubts, he believes in you and your ability to rule alongside him. That and his love is more than enough to keep you going.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Spending time with you, his family, any children you may have together. Going for trail rides with you, or practising his swordplay.

It isn't often Edmund actually panics or gets stressed. He and Susan are the most clear headed of all their siblings. They're more likely to think or talk things through then they are to submit to blind emotion.

However, Edmund is only human, and sometimes the weight of the world literally gets to be too much. In those rare moments, he wants nothing more than to seek out the things that ground him and make him feel like a normal man.

If he suddenly gets very sooky and cuddly with you out of nowhere, or pulls you and the children away from what you're doing to go on a sudden day trip or you find him hacking away at a training dummy at odd hours? Check in with him. Odds are there's something bothering him, and he's trying to seek out support from you without worrying you directly.

[heyclickadee]

Some Tipping Point Thoughts about Crosshair (mostly):

1. There is a small part of me that is a little suspicious that Crosshair was allowed to partially escape on purpose, buuuuuut Emerie wasn’t the one who put that blaster within Crosshair’s reach, and she looked genuinely frightened when she realized that Crosshair really was going to stun her. It was one of the stormtroopers who put that blaster there, and, yes, it was a stupid move, but no one ever accused stormtroopers of being smart.

2. “Pushed to the limits of his extreme in the most heartbreaking way,” didn’t just apply to “The Outpost,” I see.

3. Speaking of blasters, these early stormtrooper blasters are the cheapest looking blasters I’ve ever seen in a star war—and I mean that as a compliment to the show. Those things look and feel like something that would be mass produced without much concern for quality or durability, which is exactly the Empire’s approach to the stormtroopers themselves.

4. Sooooo…this might sound counterintuitive, but this episode really put the final kibosh in any lingering worries I had that they’re killing Crosshair this season. You don’t do something like this (gestures broadly at Crosshair’s whole thing) and then kill them off. Especially not in some kind of redemptive self-sacrificial death. Especially when what we watched him do in this episode is so pointedly self-sacrificial. Crosshair might try to die for his family in the next two episodes, but there’s no way the narrative is going to let that happen. There’s no way to kill him off right now that isn’t empty, no way to have him die for anyone that doesn’t make the other person look careless by comparison (if only because viewers react to stories emotionally as much as they do otherwise), and no way to end his story in a way that isn’t just an ocean of untouched possibilities. The writers are sitting on a narrative gold mine with this character and I think they know that, otherwise they could have just let him die on that platform. And I’m stoked, because this means that we’re going to get to watch these characters deal with the difficult mess that’s going to be rebuilding their relationships.

5. Crosshair loves his family SO DAMN MUCH.

6. Evil thought: What if the batch gets to him, and he doesn’t realize they’re really there at first? I mean…he’s going to live, and he’s not getting brainwashed, but he is almost definitely going to be in a lot of pain and potentially pretty disoriented. I could see him taking a few minutes to realize that they’re really there and they finally came for him (but OH NO they weren’t supposed to come for him this time WHAT ARE THEY DOING THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO HIDE).

7. Eviler thought: Man, I really hope Dr. Hemlock doesn’t clock the fact that Crosshair will take any and all abuse that’s thrown at him without complaint but will absolutely lose his shit if that same abuse is thrown at another clone.

8. The look on Crosshair’s face when Omega says, “You’re still their brother, Crosshair. You’re my brother too,” back in Kamino Lost is going to kill me ten times over after this episode.

9. I’m looking forward to the absolute murder we’ll get to see in Echo’s eyes once he sees what Hemlock’s been doing.

10. You know…I’m not sure Crosshair couldn’t have made it outside if he hadn’t stopped to send that warning—if sending the warning wasn’t his only goal in the first place. He could barely stand up straight and he still went through about eight people like they were tissue paper.

11. I don’t know what is up with Emerie besides definitely something, but I sort of like the idea that Crosshair stunned her instead of killing her because he maybe got the sense that she’s a prisoner, too.

12. You know, there sure are a lot of clones in Mount Tantiss. In the cells, being commandos. Sure would be a shame for Hemlock if they all revolted at the same time somehow (I feel like this is wishful thinking, but I can dream).

[fateinthestars]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

No doubt it's already been 2024 for a bit for some of you and for some of you it's still 2023 but it's just gone midnight here so Happy New Year, may this year bring forth everything you could wish for!

*eyes the Gods* Are you going to wish everyone a Happy New Year as well?

Ichthys (grinning): Happy New Year! Make it a fun one!

Huedhaut: Is there not a tradition of making resolutions for New Year on Earth? Perhaps your resolution should to be to pull less pranks, Ichthys.

Scorpio (scowling): Only less? Tch he shouldn't damn well be doing any of that shit!

Huedhaut (smirking): I wanted to give him an achievable goal. Not an impossibility.

Ichthys: Hey!

Huedhaut (beaming): ... Oh? Are you saying you could stop entirely?

Ichthys: ...

Scorpio (smirking): Well played, Smart Guy...

Aigonorus: What is this New Year celebration thing anyway?

Karno: As I understand it people stay up until midnight and see in the New Year to celebrate the one just gone and usher in the one that's just coming, often watching a fireworks display.

Aigonorus (frowning): People deliberately stay up that late?! Ugh... sounds like a right pain...

Tauxolouve: It's only once a year, Aigo.

Aigonorus: Can't I just say Happy New Year now and go back to sleep?

Tauxolouve: I think you just have -

Aigonorus: ...

Tauxolouve (Laughing): On both counts. Although you know, Karno, if you said people normally see in New Year with a drink he might have been a bit more up for this...

Leon (Grinning): I think Karno's avoiding drinking after last time.

Karno: Leon!

Leon: Not my fault you're a complete lightweight, Vice Minister.

Dui: Everyone keeps getting distracted don't they? No doubt this place will be just as lively next year as it is this. Happy New Year.

Zyglavis: Indeed... though on Huedhaut's topic of resolutions: if you make any make sure you try your best to adhere to them. There is no point in trying to better your year if you do not try your best to fulfill your wishes.

Leon (Frowning): Pfft, seems like a massive hassle to go to. Goldfish are so simple they'd be better off not making them in the first place. Then they won't be dissapointed.

Zyglavis (Scowling): And this is exactly the kind of problem I have come to expect from you! Honestly, you...

Partheno: I think their resolution should be to get on better, don't you?

Krioff: Yeah. But are you going to tell them that?

Partheno (Smirking): Oh absolutely not. Besides if Zyglavis didn't get distracted by Leon from time to time, we'd barely have a chance to breathe.

Teorus (Pouting): .... I'm glad to see you're all enjoying yourselves!

Huedhaut: Teo? You're normally one of the first to be happy to have something to celebrate.

Teorus: I'm the God of Time. This is very stressful!

Karno (Smiling): Come on, Teo. I'll accompany you back to the Heavens. You should have voiced your concerns earlier. Happy New Year, everyone.

Zyglavis: I shall come as well. It is not as though work has stopped. Do not get too carried away now, everyone. Have a Happy New Year but do not neglect your duites.

Leon (Grinning): ... Ah good, they've gone. It'll be easier to relax without Minister Ponytail worrying all evening. Hue?

Huedhaut (Smirking): I suspected you were going to ask that.

*snaps fingers, pours out his wine for everyone still present*

*Tauxolouve nudges Aigonorus to wake him. The other seems a little annoyed until he sees why and sits up*

Ichthys, Dui, Partheno, Scorpio, Krioff, Leon, Huedhaut, Tauxolouve, Aigonorus: Happy New Year!

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Rouge reaction to mad scientist vigilante who's borderline crazy and the only people who's stopping them taking over the world or going completely apeshit are their fellow vigilantes aka the batfam

They have techs that are so futuristic that some would believe that it's alien even though the vigilante made it from scratch and by themselves

Thinks of their techs as their own kids, probably would beat the shit out of you if you ever destroy it and believe me when I say that's not a good thing for you (they have a rocket hammer. *Softly* Don't.)

I took this opportunity to delve into an idea I've been playing around with and I had a great time. Also catch the references and you get brownie points!

You were definitely out of the ordinary, perhaps a bit more eccentric than most but your intelligence was of no debate. Most couldn't figure out your technology that you made. In the modern world, tech was made to be aesthetically pleasing. Even Edward Nygma had a flare of design in him. Hence the colour green in and around everything. Little did people know that appearances meant nothing to you. Fuction was everything. Even then, the devices resembled nothing to their counter parts. They were designed by a mind that didn't work like most others. You tended to get under the rogues skin as your creations became more and more daunting. Such as the AI robots that look like Kristen Kringle or Gilda Dent, making them horrifying. The Alice robot that's a trap to lure the Mad Hatter. You certainly didn't make it easy. Not to mention you put your heart into the craft. Then there were other things like the large heavy hammer that had rockets making it throwable to longer distances. This was only you with the restraints of the batfam.

The Riddler: Not a fan. Number 1) You seem pretty smart and he doesn't want the challenge. Number 2) YOU MADE AN AI ROBOT DOUBLE OF HIS EXGIRLFRIEND HE STRANGLED AND LET IT LOOSE IN GOTHAM TO FIND HIM. "Why am I the problem in this city?" No, he's genuinely asking anyone who can hear him in this moment. How is he the problem when theres a guy and a group of followers dressed like bats beating people up and they're buddy makes ROBOTS THAT LOOK LIKE REAL PEOPLE THAT HAVE SERIOUS ISSUES WITH THE ROGUES. Plus you act like you have a few screws loose. How is he not the normal one? Ugh. He's just so done with you already. Your intelligence is overhyped and he hopes the Kristen Kringle AI kicks you in the shin. Hard. Suddenly hell snap with rage. "Why am I the problem in this city!?" He bellowed.

Scarecrow: ... actually kind of a fan. You earned his respect. You at least did your research on everyone. That's a nice change. The hammer thing he doesn't really get because...well are you hoping someone will give you it back after you throw it. Now that'd be something. Throwing a hammer only for it to come back. You two could make a great team with a mind like yours. Bringing fear to Gotham with the faces of those who have departed from the living and doubles of living people? It sounded magnificent. Although you were quick to emotional meltdowns. That wasn't exactly beneficial but regardless, it didn't take away from your work. You'd make an excellent criminal. He'd even go as far as to say your work is far beyond Edward's robots. He senses a jealousy in Edward. That wasn't surprising. He should be jealous in Jonathan's opinion. You made him look like a child with his riddles and mechanics.

Two-Face: Listen, sometimes you're cute when you freak out, beyond that? No. Not a fan. Turns out he also didn't appreciate seeing an AI robot of his ex-wife. He noticed how quickly you grew upset and found that rather questionable. Concerning even. Regardless, it was oddly personal. The robot didn't just look like Gilda. It spoke like her. It knew dates. Really personal things. It was unnerving to say the least. He tried not to give you the satisfaction, even though you weren't around. He understood how Jervis could be fooled. When he saw 'Gilda', he knew it was designed to be her spitting image but small flaws deterring it from being a perfect copy. You can't teach an AI to feel the emotions, only copy what they see. There was a dead look in the eyes, empty, unfeeling. It was the same skintone as Gilda but didn't have skin. When hit, it broke like glass. Shattering upon the force revealing a mosaic of colours and wires underneath. It really brought on the notion that just because somebody can, does it really mean that somebody should?

Black Mask: You are the reason nerds should be beaten up. He is absolutely serious. I reckon he's actually a little scared of you. Have you done anything to him directly? No, but he's been around when you freak out and he knew what you were capable of. Some people just deserved it and you were a perfect example of why. You clearly didn't fear him or anyone as you should. He certainly wasn't going to be your toy. No one fucks with Roman Sionis! He isn't going to risk you finding out anything about him either. He didn't know how you found out such personal details about people but he wasn't eager to be the next. He usually cleared off the moment there was any inclination of your whereabouts and he often hid from your creations. Only ever coming jn contact with your hammer. Thankfully the wall between you took the brunt before his arm could be crushed under the hammers size and weight.

Deadshot: Not cool. First, you're a freak and a geek. So not much in common. Second of all, you built a robot of his daughter so he's pissed at you. You made it harder to shoot because all he could see was his daughter. He's also fairly certain that you are not sane. You threw a tantrum when one of your robots got broken by a rogue! Slap bang, on the ground, kicking and screaming like a toddler and the CRYING. Jfc the CRYING. You sobbed like he had shot your child. If anyone had the right to be angry and distraught, it was definitely him!

[pantoneyoongi]

neon signs | we are not cut out for this

title ; we are not cut out for this  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

notes ; 

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!) 

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi. 

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.) 

word count ; 2.7k

tags ; halloweekend, drinking, is it clear yet that i’ve never been to a single frat party, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

in case anybody asks, namjoon is always right. he was right when he told you not to eat the questionable fish sticks, he was right when he said you were never even once going to use the (super cute!) planner you bought for college, and he’s right about the fact that not a single one of you should’ve gone to this party. 

first of all, it’s a halloween party. the first night of halloweekend, where hoseok said we have to go, it’s a part of the college experience, so you all managed to scrounge together a costume because it is really hard to say no to hoseok when he’s particularly insistent on something. 

yoongi put what is probably the literal least amount of effort any human being could possibly put into a costume. he doesn’t even look altogether that different; he just looks like himself, but instead of regular blue jeans he’s in black jeans. 

“what… exactly are you supposed to be?” you ask, scanning his all-black ensemble. he blinks back at you. his eyes shift a little. 

“a stagehand,” he responds plainly. 

your brows lift. “oh,” you reply lightly. (a future you who knows yoongi better and can read his tells a little more will realize yoongi was absolutely talking out of his ass. he straight up did not dress up, at all. but current you decides not to question it.) 

the party doesn’t start off particularly poorly. you think you might be a little overdressed for it (what? it’s cold outside and you’ve never been to one of these before) but nonetheless you meet a couple already-tipsy people and make a few new friends who you’re sure will have no idea who you are by the morning. 

it’s not until halfway past midnight that things start to go a little… 

south. 

.

.

.

you’ve lost sight of namjoon. yoongi’s lost sight of hoseok. but you still have sight of yoongi, and with a hesitant hand, you reach out to try and grab hold of the corner of his shirt (you’d yell instead, but you can’t hear shit over the sound of the booming bass. you were just gonna settle for miming, honestly), but then you see it. 

or rather, them. 

even with the music as loud as it is, you think you can hear yoongi’s groan, the way his hand comes up to massage the headache that, if he didn’t have one before, he definitely has one now. your jaw is on the ground and you kind of want to bury your face into yoongi’s back just to hide your own secondhand embarrassment. 

namjoon has never been drunk before. he’s had sips of alcohol at family functions, but you’re fairly certain he has never downed drinks the way one does at a frat party. “i don’t feel anything,” namjoon had said after his first shot, which then led to a series of shots and the worst thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

you’re not really sure how the shoddy table is holding him up. you’re actually a little concerned that he’ll either break the table or fall, neither of which you’re equipped to help with because namjoon is twice the size of you. “oh no,” you whimper to no one in particular. “oh, no.” 

you want to scrub your eyes with bleach. you’re sure namjoon would too, if the usually composed man saw what he was doing right now, the obscenity of your best friend doing what can only be described as ‘shaking ass’ on top of a table, surrounded by a crowd of equally wasted people who are clearly enjoying the view. hoseok was standing on the table with him, but he disappears out of sight for you again when he sits down on the edge of the table, energy suddenly extinguished. 

yoongi can still see him, though, since he’s taller than you. “oh god,” yoongi mutters. hoseok looks like he’s entering a third plane of existence, eyes wide and jaw slightly ajar. 

it gets worse. namjoon’s voice booms through the crowd and you wonder if it’s too late to revoke your best friend card. “uh,” yoongi coughs, leaning down to reach you. “is he - is he doing what i think he’s doing?” 

your hand wraps around yoongi’s bicep lightly as you tip-toe to talk back into his ear. “if reciting various philosophy theories while trying to throw his back out is what you think he’s doing, then yes.” 

yoongi turns to face you. you stare back at him. he opens his mouth, then shuts it. then opens it again. then shuts it. with a sigh of someone who is left with no other choice, he grabs you by the wrist and tugs you through the crowd, releasing you only when you reach the table, both your heads tilted back to stare up at namjoon. 

yoongi glances at you. he points to hoseok, then himself, then you, to namjoon. you grimace. you wish you could leave namjoon with yoongi, but unfortunately, the best friend title belongs to you. you nod. 

yoongi melts into the crowd, headed towards hoseok. you watch your drunk-off-his-ass friend for as long as you can stand it, before you call his name, trying to get his attention above the noise both the music and himself are making. 

“hey plato,” you yell. “or socrates, whatever, i don’t remember. can you come here please?” 

namjoon crouches and thank god his haphazard bed sheet costume covers everything it needs to cover. “hi y/n,” he slurs, and you feel like you’re genuinely at risk of him tumbling right off the edge and you winding up crushed underneath him. you really wish yoongi had taken namjoon instead. 

“come down, please?” you ask sweetly. you have no idea how to handle a drunk namjoon. drunk namjoon is not exactly anything like sober namjoon, apparently. 

you thank every spiritual entity you can and can’t think of when namjoon slides off the table obediently. it’s a blessing that drunk namjoon is more susceptible to listening to you than sober namjoon is, as you grab onto his wobbly figure to keep him upright and not faceplanted onto the floor. though you get the feeling if he goes down, you’re going with him. 

now that you have namjoon, the crowd is slowly starting to dissipate. you search the room for yoongi, entirely unaware of the curious eyes on you - if anything, you figure it’s just people wondering about namjoon’s next move, since he is still talking very loudly about philosophers. 

you catch sight of yoongi. he’s kind of hard to miss, because - well - everyone’s caught sight of yoongi, it seems. the all black thing is working wonders for him. 

for a moment, you just watch. there’s a crowd of people around both him and hoseok, and you think you might’ve only seen this scene in movies or tv shows, the way girls surround yoongi, batting their eyelashes at him, offering their help, but even to someone as oblivious as you, you can tell the offer is only to spend a little extra time with yoongi. 

you’ve never really thought hard about it before - never had to - but the fleeting moments when your brain randomly registers that both yoongi and hoseok are very handsome locks in now, solidifying in your brain who exactly you’re friends with. 

yoongi isn’t smiling anymore, ducking his head and nodding and trying to get through the crowd with a tipsy hoseok. if you didn’t know any better, yoongi might’ve looked annoyed by the attention, which only seems to make him garner even more. 

but you know better. just a little bit. you know he’s just trying to calculate the fastest way to make it out of the crowd without being rude, but it translates into a stand-offish attitude with curt responses before his eyes find yours. you try to smile, but between the nagging feeling in your chest and the literal weight of namjoon on your arm, it looks a lot more like a grimace. 

you see more so than hear yoongi say a few words, then he slips through, towards you. “trade,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath, and suddenly you’ve got hoseok’s arm looped over your shoulder, and namjoon is wrapped around yoongi. they’re sobering, slowly - but yoongi has to elbow namjoon hard in the gut to get him to jolt up a little, stumbling towards the nearest exit you can find. 

you glance at yoongi as he leads the way out, and something about the way he looks over his shoulder at you sets off butterflies in your stomach that you choose to ignore. he’s just a little extra handsome today, that’s all. the definition of tall, dark, and brooding. 

it’s an excuse you won’t be able to use for much longer, but while you still have a far from sober hoseok draped over you, that’s what you’ll settle for. 

.

.

.

yoongi collapses onto the curb beside you with a loud exhale, drawing his knees up and hanging his arms over them. hoseok is passed out on the grass beside you, while namjoon is still up, stumbling as he wanders about, but you can tell he’s slowly sobering up. yoongi keeps his eyes on him though, making sure not to lose sight of him. 

you sit in silence together, waiting for the uber yoongi had called for. you pull your knees up too, wrapping your arms under your thighs. even with the gloves on your hands extending up to your elbows, you still feel cold. yoongi doesn’t look much better, goosebumps raising along his bare arms. 

“thanks for coming tonight,” he says suddenly, voice a little gruff. two months into knowing him but every so often you still find yourself adjusting to the way yoongi speaks, listening carefully for the undertones rather than the surface level. he doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained on namjoon, but he continues, a little softer this time, “you really didn’t have to. hoseok’s a little…”  yoongi trails off when he can’t quite find the words, nose scrunching. “well, he wouldn’t have forced you,” he settles on saying. yoongi finally turns back to you then, but the way he looks at you makes you wish he’d go back to tracking namjoon. there’s a flutter in your chest that’s getting a little too dangerous, a little too soon.

you shrug it off. “it’s okay, i wanted to come,” you reassure him. “he was right. it’s part of the college experience.”

“some things you don’t need to experience,” yoongi says dryly, and you laugh, earning a flash of teeth back when he grins. he leans back on his arms, heaving a sigh. “we are not cut out for this.” 

you hide a smile. considering namjoon is currently explaining in intense detail to a shrub the concept of free will vs determinism, you’re inclined to agree. when namjoon wakes up with a raging hangover tomorrow, you have no doubt the first words out of his mouth will be, “i told you this was a bad idea.” 

yoongi pulls your attention back, reaching over to pinch lightly at the cloth of your costume. “i didn’t ask earlier. what’d you come as?” 

your ears turn pink, but you attribute it to the cold, and not the brush of his hands as he pulls away. “katara, from avatar,” you admit shyly. “but i didn’t really have much time to prepare, so i guess it’s not obvious.” 

you slide your arms out from under your thighs, fiddling with the gloves. “i was hoping the gloves might keep me at least a little warm, but it only really helped for dodging all the sticky stuff inside. nobody told me frat parties are really…” you make a face. “gross.” 

yoongi snorts. “yeah,” he agrees easily. he sucks in a breath between his teeth. “let’s not do this again. once is enough.” 

“you didn’t try partying last year?” 

yoongi glances at you through his peripheral. “i need hoseok to remind me to smile,” he arches an eyebrow. “somehow i don’t think parties suit me.”

“the girls in there would probably disagree,” you mumble under your breath off-hand with a tilt of your head. you don’t expect it when yoongi leans in closer, trying to hear you. 

“hm?” 

you clear your throat. “nothing,” you draw away, choosing to watch namjoon instead of focusing on yoongi’s proximity. you can still feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and suddenly you don’t feel altogether that cold anymore, cheeks heating from his gaze. 

“you know,” he starts again, bringing your attention back to him. “i like this better.” 

you blink back at him questioningly. “what’s better?” 

the corner of one side of his lips pulls up, and his next words tug at your heartstrings. 

“talking to you.” 

.

.

.

the next couple weeks changes a lot of things for not only you, but yoongi, too. you don’t attribute it to the party (and neither does yoongi) - but hoseok and namjoon always have their ears to the ground, with the latest news in campus gossip. 

okay - maybe just hoseok does. namjoon only knows because - 

“if one more person asks me if i’m your boyfriend or if they know if you’re dating someone-!” namjoon accidentally tips over a bottle when he collapses onto the bench across from you, scrambling to grab it before it rolls off the table. you watch patiently when it inevitably does, namjoon nearly falling off the bench to grab it and place it back on the table. 

he huffs. “anyway. as i was saying. people keep asking me about you, y/n.” 

you raise your hands, shrugging. “i don’t know why. you’re the one that made all the commotion that night, joonie.” 

“it’s because they think you’re cute,” hoseok slides onto the bench next to namjoon, nursing a cup of coffee. “people keep asking me for yoongi’s number, too.” 

you pause at that. “there were a lot of girls around him that night.” 

hoseok shrugs. “he was always popular in his major. lots of the engineering kids like him. but you know him,” he gestures towards yoongi who is crossing the courtyard to join you. “he’s a bit… scary looking.” 

you turn your head, and true to hoseok’s word, yoongi’s expression is flat-lined again, bordering on annoyed. he has his hands shoved into his pockets and a beanie pulled low over his ears, wired earphones in. he looks unapproachable. he looks like someone who doesn’t want to be bothered, at all. he looks like the classmate you were sure was going to hate you for the rest of the semester, without rhyme or reason, just for existing. 

but then he reaches you, and his expression transforms, a small smile forming on his face and his eyes lighting up. he tugs his earphones out, and swings his legs over the bench to sit next to you, hands pulled out of his pockets to rest on the picnic table. 

“hi,” he greets softly. he doesn’t look so untouchable anymore - just cozy in his hoodie, happy to be around his friends. you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

he swipes his beanie off his head, ruffling his hair a little. then, before you can realize what’s happening, he tugs the beanie over your head, making sure it’s snug over your ears. 

“there,” he looks pleased with himself. “not so cold anymore.” 

he throws the hood of his hoodie up in replacement of his lost hat, and smiles at you in that way where his eyes disappear, curving into happy crescents. 

you’re in trouble. you know you’re in trouble. yoongi has half the campus on their radar; you can’t be letting the little things yoongi does tally up in your head, immortalize themselves into vibrant memories when they’re just habits that yoongi has. you shouldn’t put meaning into everything he does with you just because he happens to accidentally seem mean and cold on the outside when he’s actually gentle and warm. it’s not that he’s being special to you - he’s just being yoongi. 

but when you’re not paying attention, too busy bickering with namjoon about something inconsequential (that’ll inevitably be a contention point for the two of you for the next three weeks anyway), yoongi sneaks glances at you. the stony expression he’s so well known for fades away, leaving just the faint outline of a smile and soft eyes that follow your every movement. 

when yoongi’s around you, his default changes. there’s no need to remind him to smile - around you, it’s the only thing he knows how to do. 

series masterlist ; neon signs

[iwritesickfic]

fic request from @choiia for cold denial! featuring Seamus and Theo.

When Theo wakes up the first thing he registers is how much his throat is killing him. It was sore yesterday too, but he assumed that was just from all the recording he's been doing the past week. It's now obvious that wasn't the case. This is more than just overuse, it's the kind of pain that makes him dread having to swallow.

The second thing he notices is how sweaty and weak and feverish he feels - and there's really no other way to describe it than feverish. Shivery and too warm all at once.

The third thing that hits him is the throbbing pain and fullness in his head. His sinuses feel swollen and he can already feel his nose starting to leak onto his upper lip. He sniffles, and feels just how much congestion has built up overnight.

He looks over at the other side of the bed where Seamus lies. He's still asleep, and Theo's glad, because if he were already awake he would no doubt be worried over it.

Seamus is amazing at taking care of people, and Theo's grateful because he tends to need a lot of caretaking, but it doesn't mean he wants his boyfriend to always be on high alert.

On a normal day, being sick would be annoying, but today it's sort of unacceptable. He’s performing at some award show tonight. He has soundcheck at 4. And currently he's not sure if he can even speak, let alone sing. And of course if Seamus finds out, he's going to insist he see a doctor or stay home or do something else that while probably smart isn't possible.

So before Seamus can wake up, he forces himself out of bed and into the shower, testing his voice softly while the warm water washes away a night of feverish sweat. He should probably be taking a cold shower if anything, but even now he's shaking with vague chills, so he settles for frustratingly lukewarm. The steam loosens up some of the blockage in his sinuses, which while a relief, is making his nose stream. His voice doesn't sound incredible either, but some tea and cough drops should get it performing reasonably well by 4. He's performed sick plenty of times, many of them far sicker than he is now, so he knows he can do it. A small part of him does wish he could just climb back into bed and rest his shivery, aching body, but he brushes the thought away. It's not possible, he's under contract.

By the time he gets out, gets dressed in one of Seamus's t-shirts, and walks downstairs to the kitchen, Seamus is sitting at the island, scribbling something in a notebook, his laptop open in front of him. He's still in pajamas, his hair still tousled from bed. He’s even still in his glasses, which Theo would normally find extremely sexy if he wasn’t in so much pain.

"Morning," he says without looking up, and Theo starts to fill the electric kettle.

"Morning." He winces at the sound of his voice - hoarse and broken in places - and the pain that speaking causes. Seamus looks up at him, eyebrows already furrowed in concern.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just woke up. And it's been a long week." He was hoping it would improve a little since he first got up but it still sounds just as fucked as before. He clears his throat and sniffles.

"Are you making tea?" Theo nods, grabbing a mug from the shelf over the counter. "Good, would you make me some?"

"Shit, are you sick too?" He doesn't even realize he's made a mistake til the words leave his mouth. "I mean, are you sick?" He tries to save, but Seamus just sighs. He looks up from his computer.

"You're sick?" Theo takes his time looking at their collection of tea bags.

"No, no. Definitely not. I don't - I have no idea why I said that," he says, but Seamus gets up, walks around the counter and wraps his arms around him from behind. His arms are warm, and it’s only then Theo realizes how cold he feels.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and the feeling of Seamus's arms around him makes Theo want to confess, but he bites his tongue.

"Mhm." He tries to go back to making the tea, but let's out a heavy sigh when he feels Seamus lay a kiss on his cheek. It's the kind of kiss he always uses when he's checking for a fever - lingering and gentle.

"You're hot," he says, and steps to the side so only one of his arms is slung around Theo's waist.

"Thanks, I know. So are you." Seamus offers him a little smile. "I just showered, it's probably that."

"It's ok if you're not feeling well. You can tell me." Theo takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking.

"There's no point talking about it. Even if I was." He clears his throat and sniffles in a way he hopes isn't suspicious. "Which I'm not."

"Well sick or not, your voice sounds fried." He hesitates, but Theo doesn't answer. "You can't sing tonight."

"I have to. It's contractual."

"No, I mean, you'll have to lip sync." Theo shakes his head and turns back to the counter where the water's started to boil. He drops two lemon tea bags into the mugs.

"You know I don't lip sync."

"Well I don't think they'll let you actually sing with how you sound right now, baby." He fills the mugs and adds honey to Seamus's.

"I'm drinking tea, it'll be fine." He turns around and hands one mug to Seamus. He hopes he can't tell how much his hands are still trembling.

"Sure about that?" He asks, voice playful while still serious.

"I'm sure," he says, and takes a sip of the still almost too hot tea. It feels harsh on his already sore throat.

Seamus puts down his mug and puts a hand on his cheek. It’s cold on his feverish skin.

"You know it's because I love you." Theo closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of his cool palm.

"I know." He gives him a kiss on the forehead, lips just as cold as his hand, then pulls away.

The day is fairly easy - some meetings, a fitting for a suit - but by the time he's supposed to get ready for soundcheck he's feeling considerably worse. His head is throbbing in time with his heart, his teeth practically chattering with fever chills. It's going to take a lot of foundation to cover up how red and raw his nose is from the constant wiping and blowing, which he's assured everyone who even looks at him is only "allergies." His thoughts are cloudy and unfocused, blurred from his soaring temperature.

He's pounding ibuprofen and tea and cough drops, but none of it seems to be helping much. His throat is raw, his body's aching, and now he'll have to explain to the director and the producers and everybody else why his voice sounds like absolute shit.

When he arrives at the venue, he's led by a PA through a maze of corridors until he's up on stage. They point to his marks on the floor, and he tries to pay attention, but he's so sick he can barely focus. People are talking at him, and he just nods and smiles.

Music starts to play, and he can hear it in his earpiece. It's aggravating his headache, but he tries to put all his energy into sounding as decent as he can. He sings a few lines before someone calls cut, and the director starts muttering to whoever's next to him. His throat hurts from that alone, and he's starting to rethink his lip syncing policy.

Finally, the director comes up to him.

"Do you need some time to warm up?" He asks, and Theo runs at his dripping nose with one of the many crumpled tissues in his pocket.

"Sorry, I'm just… I've been recording this week and I…" He sniffles, "I've been having some allergies."

The director nods.

"Ok. Well in that case, I think we'll need to use the track. Is that ok with you?" Theo knows it's not really a question, and that if he sings live he's going to do an awful job, but the thought of lip syncing is nerve wracking.

"I'm just a little… I don't want the track to like…" He's so ill he can barely formulate his thoughts, but the idea seems to get across.

"We do it all the time, don't worry. Nobody will know a thing," he says, and Theo just nods. "Ok, great."

They do a few run throughs of the blocking, with him singing along to the track, and by the time they're done he feels like he could pass out. He grabs a paper cup of tea from craft services before getting in the car that'll take him back to the apartment to get dressed with Seamus before they walk a red carpet, and Theo goes on stage for real.

His throat is so sore that swallowing is bringing tears to his eyes, so he takes tiny sips of tea and tries to pull himself together before he sees Seamus.

As soon as he walks into the apartment, he's overwhelmed. People are bustling around - makeup artists, security, hair stylists, his manager Zeke - it's too much for his feverish brain to process at once. He's only pulled back to reality when he feels Seamus's warm, steady hand on his shoulder.

"Teddy," he starts, his voice quiet, and Theo takes a deep breath through his chapped lips. His head is too full of sickness for him to breathe through his nose. Before Seamus can finish his thought, Theo leans into him, curling against his chest, tucking his face against Seamus's throat. The arms that wrap around him feel so incredibly, impossibly good. He almost wants to cry. He's so exhausted, he's so sick, he's so fucking miserable. "Oh, my love…," Seamus trails off.

Theo gives himself another ten seconds to rest - counts down in his head - before making himself stand up straight.

"I'm… I'm fine," he mumbles, and Seamus pushes his damp hair off his forehead. It seems like no one has noticed he's here yet, they're all too busy rushing around. The worry on Seamus's face is acute.

"We can figure something out," he says, voice still quiet. Theo shakes his head, and Seamus rests his hand on his cheek. "We can."

"No, it's… I'll be ok. Let's just get it over with," he mumbles back, and he's aware of how ridiculous it sounds coming out of his mouth - his voice hoarse and wavering.

"You're burning, Theo, I don't think-" He's cut off as Zeke walks over to them. He does a double take at Theo's appearance and sets his jaw.

"Let's get you into hair and makeup, ok?" he asks, and Theo nods. Seamus's mouth hangs open, incredulous.

"Z -" Zeke cuts him off before he can finish.

"I know, I know, but it's just a couple hours. It's… They've been running ads since last month."

Theo sniffles and walks over to the chair that's surrounded by all the beauty supplies. He can hear Seamus and Zeke arguing in the background, but his immediate focus is on the hands that are fussing with his hair and his face. His head is throbbing again, and he can almost feel the fever climbing back up from where it was pushed down to with the extra strength ibuprofen.

"Try to stay still," one of the people touching his face says and he swallows hard. He couldn't stop shaking if he tried.

"S-sorry, I'm… I have allergies," he manages to say. Then Seamus is in front of him, squatting, taking his hand.

"You want some tea?" he asks, and Theo almost nods before remembering he's supposed to be still.

"Yes," he says, and Seamus squeezes his hand before disappearing again. Then Zeke is handing him a couple of white tablets, which he takes without question. They hurt going down, but he hopes they'll make this all at least a little more bearable.

The rest of the prep is a blur, and before he really knows what's going on he's in the car, in a suit, with Seamus next to him. He feels a little better - whatever Zeke gave him must have kicked in - and he hopes it lasts until after his performance.

The red carpet is another chaotic blur of sounds and lights and sensations, and he finds himself fixated on his body. Is he sweating too much? Is he standing up straight enough? Can everyone tell how miserable he is? Is his fake smile convincing enough?

Then there's a kiss goodbye from Seamus and he's ushered backstage, then into a changing room where he puts on whatever he's supposed to be wearing for the performance, and then he's on stage.

Surprisingly, he's able to hit his marks and remember the lyrics, and when he's done he hopes the whole thing was convincing enough, but mostly, he's just relieved to be done. It's been the day from hell and all he wants to do is go home and lay down next to Seamus.

When he walks off stage, Zeke is there, handing him another paper cup of tea.

"Was it ok?" Theo asks, and Zeke rubs his upper arm.

"It was great. Now let's get you home, alright?" Theo just nods and follows Zeke back down the maze of hallways out to where a big black SUV is idling. He's about to get in when he stops.

"Where's Seamus?" It's torture to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper. It feels even worse to let it slip that he needs Seamus. Zeke sets his jaw.

"He has to stay. He's presenting an award at the end of the night and they wouldn't let him out of it." Theo feels tears welling in his eyes and he tries to blink them away, but they just slip down his cheeks - cutting cold trails through fever heat.

"Zeke," he just says, and Zeke sighs.

"I know, I know, it's-"

"No, you don't know!" he explodes, and though the strain of raising his voice is excruciating he can't hold himself back. "I did so much shit today and I didn't say one fucking word. I didn't ask for anything. I went to all those stupid meetings and did all this bullshit! I had to lip sync for the first time ever! And I feel like I'm gonna die. Please, I just need this one thing. Please, I…" he trails off, voice and energy spent. "Please, I'm so fucking sick."

This is the first time he's actually admitted it, and even though everyone already knows, it still feels like a defeat. Zeke sighs and pulls him into a hug. It doesn't feel as good as it would from Seamus but it's still something. His nose is streaming, and he's sure it's getting all over Zeke's shirt, but he doesn't care. He sniffles wetly and pulls away.

"Listen, he was just as upset as you are. More, even. But it's just how it is." He pulls open the door to the car and Theo climbs in, Zeke following close behind.

"Such bullshit," Theo murmurs, and Zeke sighs.

"It's ridiculous. Have someone else read the envelope, it's not rocket science," he says, and Theo nods. He wipes some of the mess off his face with his sleeve before Zeke hands him a tissue. "Wanna hear about the drama in the management section? That always cheers you up."

Theo nods and listens to Zeke go off about the various goings on with the other managers and PR people for the celebrities at the event. It's entertaining, and it even draws a few laughs out of him.

Then they're back in his now empty apartment, Zeke the only one left bustling around - this time gathering up illness related supplies. Theo just strips down to his underwear on the couch, fever raging like a fire under his skin.

Zeke slides the cold thermometer under his tongue and has to hold it in place when it's clear Theo's too weak to keep it in his mouth. Zeke presses his lips into a line when it beeps. He's silent for a few moments, just staring.

"What?" Theo finally asks, and Zeke looks at him.

"103.3." Theo rolls his eyes.

"That's not so bad," he mumbles. He's about to lay down on the couch when Zeke pulls him upright.

"Let's just get you in bed, alright?"

He falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, and he doesn't wake until he feels a cold hand on his forehead. The room is dark except for the light of the city outside the windows, but it's enough to see Seamus. Theo's never been more relieved in his life.

His hand move to his forehead, then comes to rest on his shoulder.

"That's one fucking fever," he says, and Theo tries to speak, but can't get anything to come out. "Christ, Theo. Here, let me in."

He lifts the comforter and lays down next to him. They reach for each other at the same time, and Theo lets out a shuddering breath as Seamus's arms wrap around him. His whole body aches like a bruise, and he moans softly when his pounding head presses into Seamus's shoulder. He's seconds away from sleep, fever pulling him back down into hazy, gauzy twilight.

The last thing he feels are Seamus's soft, cool lips laying a kiss on his temple.

[dream-meister-translations]

MAIN STORY : CHAPTER 3 PART 7

━

At a tavern in the corner of a middle-class neighborhood, far from Primus Club, we met up with Crow and the others and shared the information we had obtained. GRANDFLAIR : I'm just glad you're safe, Emma. EMMA : I'm sorry for acting so recklessly. SION : You were able to make a deal with Camus. That's something. NOAH : Doesn't sound like a deal. Sounds like a threat.

*FLASHBACK*

CAMUS : I propose a deal. EMMA : A deal? CAMUS : Yes. If you agree to it, I will guarantee that you will keep your life. On top of that, I will never speak of your infiltration again. EMMA : What's the deal? CAMUS : It's good to see that you are a smart woman. The deal is simple. In the slums, there is a hidden warehouse owned by the Bloody Lady, I need you to investigate it. Find out what is stored there and report back to me.

*END FLASHBACK*

NOAH : Why would a member of Primus Club want to investigate the Bloody Lady? Aren't they on the same side? Either way, they're just using us. I don't like it. ITSUKI : Why is Camus asking us to do this? Does he not have any friends? EMMA : I'm not sure…Maybe he can't trust any of them? SION : Yeah, I saw that little shit Len turn against him. He was screaming at him and defying his orders. GRANDFLAIR : Ymir didn't seem the loyal type, either. EMMA : Seven is just so difficult to read.

ITSUKI : It sound like even I would make a better teammate than these guys. GRANDFLAIR : Well, it's not like we have a choice. If we disobey Camus' orders…. EMMA : So then, we investigate. It's kinda scary…I wonder what kind of things are hidden in this secret warehouse…Honestly, I don't even want to think about it. GRANDFLAIR : The warehouse might contain the black fairy gun. Buy you guys said that there was a possibility of something else? CROW : Yeah, there's some kinda "black powder." Apparently the Bloody Lady have been smuggling it in. EMMA : (Black Powder…)

According to the information, people who inhaled this mysterious "black powder," have been losing their minds. Their skin turns a pale blue, their bodies become frail, and they start screaming in agony. SION : If that hot-tempered fool is still tending to them, I'm sure they are fine for the time being. EMMA : It sounds like the black fairies had something to do with this powder… NOAH : I think so. ITSUKI : But there is no proof, and Kai is struggling with the treatment. EMMA : Maybe we should ask Navi and the others to look at it? I'll go see Kai and the patients after we wrap this up. CROW : Thanks, Emma. SION : I told you before, we have a strong enemy, one who knows both magic and sorcery. Perhaps it is some sort of grimoire again?

*FLASHBACK*

JOE : Behold this grimoire! GUI : It's a grimoire! JOE : Let me explain the wonders of this grimoire to you! With this, the power of the Black Fairy has multiplied many times over! ACE : Of course, that means we will be powered up too!

*END FLASHBACK*

GRANDFLAIR : Ymir said that they were smuggling in "a lot" of illegal things…If the Bloody Lady is working with Nanashi, this isn't going to end well. This is bigger than Reckord and Sorciana… EMMA : ……… CROW : As far as I'm concerned, this deal with Camus is as good as it gets. If we get into that warehouse we can get our hands on that weird black powder and the guns. C'mon, let's go! ROUGE : Oh, there you are! I've been looking all over for you guys! EMMA : Rouge? And…Victor? VICTOR : I knew that I shouldn't trust it when Rouge said he wanted to introduce me to someone. ROUGE : Well, they're nice aren't they? VICTOR : Yes. But, you conveniently left out the whole part about them coming to spy on me, didn't you? ROUGE : Hahaha~ I must have forgot that detail. EMMA : What are you doing here? VICTOR : I am good friends with Camus. I came here today to help you. I'll tell you all about the Primus Club and the Bloody Lady. SION : What reason do we have to believe you? VICTOR : How about my friendship with Rouge? NOAH : That makes it even harder to trust you.

VICTOR : They really don't like you, do they? ROUGE : Hahaha~ VICTOR : Emma, you don't trust me? EMMA : It's hard to believe you after everything… VICTOR : That is the correct feeling to have. Especially in a city like this. But I have no qualms with you. All I want is to live in peace with my friends at Primus Club. GRANDFLAIR : Let's hear him out. Then we can consider our course of action. NOAH : If Gran says so. VICTOR : Okay, but I've only been in Primus Club for two years. I haven't seen as much as the others, so I don't know all the details. EMMA : Just tell us what you know. ROUGE : ………….. GRANDFLAIR : ………..?

[a-student-out-of-time]

Walmart Byakuya might be the most perfect way to describe Syobai honestly.

Aside from being a worse version of a character that I hate, He doesn't have anything remotely interesting ( A flaw with fangames). He was poor, got lost, and Became a Narco arms trafficker. That's it.

At Least with Byakuya, His backstory was interesting, Syobai's is not even close to being interesting.

Special discount for his attempt to stab Sora and tried to kill her. Not even Byakyua would have even done a dumbass move like that.

//That's not really what happened, though

//Going off the story he tells in his FTEs, Syobai was lost in a foreign country, abandoned by his family on a trip, and was on the verge of being sold into slavery before he escaped. He decided that the only way he was going to survive was if he could make money.

//So, he devoted himself to making money, doing whatever job was necessary. It didn't matter how dirty or unsavory it was, as long as it made him money.

//The thing about Syobai is, unlike Byakuya, he doesn't have any delusions about who he is. He doesn't think he's better than anyone, and actually views himself and the work he does as dirty and trashy. He doesn't make any illusions that he's a good person, just someone concerned with his own survival.

//That, honestly, puts him above Byakuya in my books. He sees himself as lowly and that he's not someone that good people should emulate. There's actually some honor in that, and he adheres to his own code of honor, where he doesn't just screw people over for the sake of it.

//This in contrast to Mr. Moneybags, who outed Toko as Genocider Syo against her wishes and tampered with Chihiro's body just to make the game more interesting and see who his biggest threats would be.

//Also, Syobai just pulled a Sayaka and tried to kill without listening to the rules. If he were a complete asshole, he wouldn't have gone out of his way to patch up Sora afterward. He's the character I'm more willing to credit to for his good deeds primarily because he's honest about being a piece of shit.

//That might sound weird, but I appreciate that level of honesty. He knows he's not the kind of person you should associate with and tells you accordingly.

//I'm willing to at least cut him some level of slack because, unlike Byakuya, he's not an entitled freak, came up from poverty, and he still has some sense of honor to him. Byakuya only had a shot at becoming the Ultimate Affluent Progeny because he was already born into privilege, no matter how much he may deny it.

//I don't even like Syobai that much, I just find that aspect of his character interesting. He may not have an elaborate backstory, but he's actually pretty smart in these cases, unlike Kanade being able to figure out an impossible icicle puzzle : P

[divineluckfuckoff]

A Sinful Wish: Prologue Part 2

@isthatafuckingcorpse

Iroha sat down as Syobai put two cups of noodles on the table, sitting down next to her. "Aaaah, they're so good..." the brunette beamed with a happy face as she quietly slurped the noodles.

"It's a good we didn't get caught this time." Syobai sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. That time was my fault." Iroha apologized.

"It's fine. Just make sure to not get caught. Don't want them on our asses." the broker told her, patting her head. She nodded, looking at the noodles with a pensive face. Syobai noticed. It wasn't like Iroha to always be this quiet, she would always blabber about stuff here and there. While this didn't really concern him that much, he learned to not care about people at all, it did raise a few questions in his mind.

"What's on your mind, shrimpy?" he asked. The brunette flinched slightly. Of course he would have noticed. She honestly should have expected it, she shouldn't have flinched.

"Well, I had a dream the other night. It was about this... really, really weird white creature that looked like a fox, but also didn't? I don't know what it was, I'm not good at identifying weird creatures. But it told me that, if I made a wish and became a magical girl, I could change the past." Iroha lied "And... I don't kmow, it's just been eating my mind." she huffed, fiddling with the chopsticks in her hands. Syobai raised a brow.

"Is your little kid's imagination working up again? Cause that does not sound like a normal dream." he deadpanned.

"AH- SYOBAI!" Iroha whined, puffing out her cheeks "Come on!" The broker rolled his eyes before shoving some noodles inside his mouth. The painter did the same, pouting. She didn't have a little kid's imagination! Her brain just worked differently! She wasn't smart, that she can admit.

"...If you were given that chance... Would you... Would you take it?" thepainter asked out of the blue, taking Syobai by surprise. He didn't think that she'd ask that, he wasn't really prepared for that.

"Huh? Why would you ask such a stupid question?" he asked, harshly putting the empty cup of noodles on the wooden table "There's no point on eating your brain out about the shit you did when you were younger." he told her with an annoyed look on his face. She stiffened a bit at the words, her expression showing a small bit of fear.

"I-I know that, you keep telling me that! B-But if you were given the chance, would you take it or not?!" she questioned, speaking in a fast tone out of fear.

"No, obviously. I would not. There's no point in that, you gotta live with the consequences of your god damn actions." Syobai groaned, facepalming at Iroha's insintence. It was going to give him a headache at some point. To him, what she was asking was completely unnecesary.

"I see... Thank you for answering." Iroha mumbled. Syobai sighed.

"But seriously, why are you so obsessed with that? It's getting kind of creepy." he asked.

"H-Hey!"

_______________________________________________________

"So? Have you made your decision yet?" Kyubey asked as he hopped on Iroha's shoulder. She hummed, writing something on a piece of paper. The creature stared at it, curious.

"It's an apology." she explained "To Syobai, specifically." she quietly placed the letter on the floor, right next to the sofa Syobai slept on.

"I don't see the need to do that though." Kyubey bluntly stated "Why apologize when you've done nothing wrong?"

"No. I've done a lot of bad things. A lot of them. Which is why I'm writing it." she insisted as he opened the rotten door of the safehouse, exiting the place.

"You humans are so weird." the white creature said, shaking his head in amusement. Iroha shrugged, continuing to walk down the path to the nearby river once again, it being Iroha's idea.

"Interesting place you've chosen to make the deal in." Kyubey pointed out as he hopped down, gracefully landing on the water. He was surprised tobe here again, where they first talked.

"What better place to make a deal than the first place we met in?" she said as she stood in front of him.

"Now then. Shall, we make the deal?" Kyubey asked.

"Don't do it." her reflection told her, appearing once again.

'It's too late.'

"You're seriously gonna leave Syobai behind like that?!"

'If it guarantees that the killing game won't happen... I'm willing to risk it all.'

"You're joking! Don't do it!"

'...'

"Iroha don't you fucking dare!"

"What is your wish , Nijiue Iroha?"

"My wish..."

"STOP IT YOU IDIOT!"

"Is to go back in time to stop the killing game!" Iroha said, determined. The wind around the two started getting faster as a blueish glow appeared on her chest. The brunette felt an immeasureable ammount of pain as she felt something being ripped from her body. She wanted to scream in pain, but that would wake up Syobai probably. She slowly started falling backwards as the glow floated upwards, turning into something the painter didn't recognize.

"Now then, Nijiue Iroha, reach out to your new power, the power to save the friends you've lost." With those words, Iroha reached out her hands, grabbing it and holding it close to her chest. Her body never hit the ground, it instead floating.

'Sorry, Syobai...'

[thenixkat]

STarted another ep and a question dawned on me but like why do the Defense Force people need such a vigourus physical exam to get in if what really matters is how much combat potential their super suits can draw out? Cause like half these fuckers are built like sticks even tho their supposedly super fit but their suits can give them fucking superstrength and speed like it sounds like the most important things a recruit would need is to have good stamina, be good with the suit, and do well in kaiju killing and teamwork?

The mushroom kaiju: Yeah I see you trying to call for help. I figured out how your communicators work and am blocking yer signals man the mushroom kaiju mist be really fucked up from an in universe perspective cause like, every indication seems that the vast majority of kaiju are just animalistic brutes. And then one day one shows up that's smart. Not only can it talk and disguise itself as a human, it also figured out how the tech being used against kaiju works and how to combat yer tech idk i think the mushroom's design is neat. Very monster and creepy and the teeny retractible eyes are a nice detail

fellas, i know yer having a moment but pls dont discuss plans within earshot of the kaiju who can understand human speech damn not Ichikawa praying. I mean yeah, its not an ideal situation also looked it up and their ammo is kaiju bits?? yeah yeah shit aint lookin good child, you've been shot at least 4 times in yer torso alone. Stay the fuck down and focus on not bleeding out

yeah if yer oponent openly goes 'I'm going to shoot you till you stop moving but plan to take you alive' maybe just dont keep moving?

damn shark tooth guy prying too. I mean yeah very much not a good situation that is a very nonchallant reaction to being decapitated. But I guess when yer head isnt a vital organ it doesnt matter as much yes, shark tooth guy, the talking kaiju that was barely exerting itself while fighting you was indeed toying with you b/c you are not a threat hahahahahaha mushroom: Ah… I'm in danger

damn, Kafka is prevented from offing the major antagonist in their first encounter b/c he got spotted by the monster slayers who try to take him down oh hey nice sqeuence that's not ruined by forced bad comedy

yeah Kafka is uh kinda beat after having to regrow limbs several times and heal other wounds. But hey, he survived someone get that man a sandwich mushroom is very body horror. And also ate the dude who was yelling at it to get off the road. I would assume given all it had to regenerate that it would be pretty hungry also eat a human and steal their form kinda critter damn failed a spot check and almost let shark teeth in the same hospital room know too much

not a 'yay we didnt die' party Not Ichikawa drinking juice while every adult there has beer what a responsible young man

Ichikawa once all his drunk adult coworkers start arguing with eachother: Oh no, pls stop the arguing has turned productive kind of local teen is concerned oh hey Kafka go promoted from cadet on probation to full officer b/c him dissecting the kaiju and finding out good info was very helpful. He still can't fight for shit in his human form tho oh hey, rich girl, who is also a minor is also drinking juice

Kafka's not exactly comfortably with watching the vice captain practice for killing his kaiju form. Makes him a bit nervous understandible oh flying kaiju being ridden by another humanoid kaiju man imagine going from 100% of yer walking disasters just being animalistic abominations to in very short order multiple ones with the same power but they can think and are much smaller and harder targets to hit also i appreciated that there was less bad humour that last ep

[hoshi9zoe]

hi,

(if you dont wanna read all this thats fair in that case i just hope you have a good day)

i dont know you and i dont wanna bother you, but i saw your reblog of the post about being scared of trans women, and i just wanted to say that its not always gonna be like that. im younger than you and i dont wanna be lecturing a person with more experience than i have, but reading what you wrote made me concerned. at the same time it is exactly what goes through my head sometimes.

i know i cant fully understand your struggles, because im trans in the other direction, but im starting to think its unfortunately true for all the people who are seen as something theyre not - right now we really have to accept there are our kinds of people and we cant change the rest. you absolutely deserve a better world in which people dont see you as dangerous just because you exist but in the meantime you need to remember your whole life isnt defined only by the people who hate you or are scared of you. it still absolutely sucks that people are intimidated by you just existing, and it shouldnt be like this and i can only imagine how lonely it could make someone feel. none of it is fair, but you can and should try to be happy anyways.

i try to think about it like we got the short end of the stick, but that doesnt mean we should break it and throw it away. it really is shit but (as cheesy as it sounds) we only get one chance at living, and as much as itd be understandable to do so, we cant spend it thinking about how unfair it is.

remember that there will be people who will see you as a person and not as a danger. it might feel like theres few of them, or they dont exist, but they do, and hopefully you get to spend more time with them than you ever will have to spend with the people who are transphobic.

i personally still cant accept it but its the advice a friend of mine gave me (though it was in the context of me being autistic) and i do think its smart even if not groundbreaking. i have trouble applying it to myself, so i might be hypocritical and/or projecting, i apologise for that. still i wanted to share it because i dont think theres any better option for us. im really sorry you feel that way and i hope we both get better at focusing on the people who can see us as people

ps well this is bible length im sorry and also sorry if its rude? i really didnt want to come off as condescending or like i was assuming you dont know any of this so i hope i at least managed that (and i sincerely apologise for my punctuation. )

I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that because of my depressive ass comments on a post people are trying to comfort me and cheer me up. I've done nothing to deserve this kindness and while I think that this kindness and your time is wasted on me, i'm grateful non the less. don't worry about coming across as lecturing me. you're just sharing your thoughts and feelings on that matter and I don't mind. even tho i may be older than you, I absolutely do not have more experience than others. less even probably... and I did not want to make you or anyone else concerned about me. as i said that's absolutely wasted on me. it's just me trying to somehow vent my depression so that I don't do something more harmful. it is just irrevocably true that trans women that are not thin, white, effeminate, with clear skin and no body hair will be seen as dangerous and intimidating by afab people and especially cis women. But i'm grateful that you with for a better world where that isn't happening. It's admirable. And I don't want to spoil your positive message but it's gonna be hard to keep my depression about that in check and I wanna apologize in advance for probably still being very negative about that. You are correct that my life isn't defined by those that are scared of me, but they still can affect it in a profound way even if I try to ignore them. And yes it is incredibly lonely, but I've already been lonely before I came out so there's not much of a difference. Just maybe a new flavor.

I'm just gonna skip the next paragraph with the short end of the stick so that I don't let my depression speak my mind and just rip all of that to shreds. You've got a nice mentality there and I don't wanna take that from you especially since you went out of your way to try and cheer me up. I know there are people that aren't scared. I'd like to meet some one day. But all deprecating jokes aside, I will always get reminded of it when I see how the trans community and especially trans women have their own separate isolated corner from the wider LGBTQ+ community. I'm not faulting you for struggling to apply the advice your give yourself. I really know a thing or twenty about that... Realistically I know that it's not as bad as my insecurities, depression, anxieties ect make it out to be. But acting on that; confronting your fears is exponentially harder. Especially if you have to do it alone because you're shit at meeting new people and making friends and very good at driving existing ones away. And please don't worry about grammar or punctuation or all that jazz. School makes a way bigger deal out of it than I feel is should be on the internet in casual situations. It's your intent and your feelings that matter not punctuation ^^'

[wannabeschyulersister]

rooster’s girl

The Hard Deck was packed for a random Wednesday night. The jukebox was blasting. People were everyone having a great time. You spent the most of your night by the pool table with the rest of the crew. It had been a tough week thus far. Normally, you’d all get together at the end of the week.

The exception was made since you all were super stressed.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You told Phoenix. You’d been watching her play against Payback for a bit now. It was widely entertaining.

“Wait, I’ll come with.” She started to set her pool stick down but you stopped her. Phoenix always tagged along for bathroom trips. Most of the time she didn’t even have to go.

“You’re about to kick Payback’s ass. I’m fine on my own. Plus, you don’t want him to skip out on the money he’s going to owe you…..again.”

Phoenix glared at him from across the pool table, “You’re right. Hurry back.”

You gave her a supportive pat on the shoulder before you left to the bathroom. Little did you know, someone else from the group watched you make your way to the back.

Thankfully, the bathrooms weren’t packed. You did your business, washed your hands and checked your appearance quickly in the mirror before leaving.

As you re-entered the rowdy bar, you felt someone grab your hand. It was a random guy at a table near the back. He looked really tipsy.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s a girl like you doing alone at a place like this?”

You snatched your hand away from him, “I’m not alone.”

“I don’t see a ring on your pretty finger. Why don’t you come have a seat with me.” He reached and grabbed you by the arm this time. His hands were rough and gave you the absolute creeps.

You knew that you could beat the shit out of this guy easily. He was intoxicated. It wouldn’t be that hard. One push and he’d been sprawled out on the floor.

Hangman tapped Rooster on the back near the pool tables. “Looks like your girl is in a little trouble.”

Rooster immediately looked at the direction Hangman was pointing at. He also knew exactly who he was referring to.

He saw you with that creepy guy’s hand still on you. Rooster rushed over, blood pumping hot in his veins. He rudely bumped into a couple of people but he’d go and apologize for it later.

When he reached you, he grabbed your arm that wasn’t currently being pulled by that asshole.

You knew who was touching you without even looking. The mild panic that you were feeling all went away just by Rooster’s appearance.

“Get you hand off of her before I rip your fucking arm out of the socket.” Rooster warned the guy. He was absolutely pissed.

The drunk idiot took his hand off of you, “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Not with my girl, asshole. Get the hell out of here before I embarrass you in front of all of these people by kicking your pathetic ass out.” Rooster threatened him. The guy was smart and got up without saying another word.

“Are you alright?” Rooster asked you. He no longer looked angry. Now, he was concerned about how you were.

You nodded a little, “I’m okay. Are you?”

Rooster scoffed a little playfully, “You were just harassed by a scumbag and you want to know if I’m okay. You’re always thinking about everyone else.”

“I wasn’t just the one that threatened to rip a guy’s arm out of his socket.”

“I just wanted him to get his hands off of-“

“Your girl?”

Rooster hoped that you wouldn’t mention that part. It just slipped out. You honestly never heard him say it before. You didn’t hate it. You actually really liked those two words coming out of his mouth.

The normally confident Bradley Bradshaw was now a blushing mess. “I uh- I’m sorry if that was weird or made you uncomfortable. It just slipped out and-“

You grabbed his sunglasses that were hanging on the front of his shirt and put them on, “No need to be embarrassed, Bradshaw. I liked it.”

Rooster fought the smile that wanted to present itself on his face, “You did?”

“Yeah, I did. Being Bradley Bradshaw’s girl sounds kind of nice. Does it come with any perks?” You took a step closer to him. He reacted by placing a hand on your waist.

“I make a mean stack of pancakes. You’d always have a karaoke partner. Also,” he leaned close, his lips brushed your ear a little causing shivers to run down your spine, “I don’t mind being the little spoon sometimes.”

That made you giggle. Never did you imagine that Rooster would be the little spoon in a cuddling situation. That was something that you’d have to see to believe.

“Well, that’s a good thing because I don’t mind being the big spoon sometimes.”

Rooster smirked and you caught him staring at your lips. “Should we get out of here?”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bar. You both didn’t miss the cheers from your friends back at the pool table.

[liyuee-qixing]

How do their room look like Harbinger HC

Just full crack. I think someone do this already I'm heavily inspired by them to make my own hc😭

Character: scaramouche, Sandrone, columbina,IL Dottore

warning for gore but I didn't fully specifically describe it

Columbina

She sometimes chew on your arm,she doesn't bite though.. it just a bit concerning 😟😟,she chew on everywhere,your door,shower head,your jacket,the window,her plushie..

She have 47 soda cans laying on your both room without a reason,she also have another harbinger belonging in one of her desk,she mark it as 'the chewing mark Champions' whatever that mean..

She's like sleeping beauty so she have so SOOO much plushies laying around,some of them is really scary though,I mean in my opinion no one with a sane mind have a voodoo doll of the eleventh harbinger

She'll make your both room like a dollhouse,painted in pink or any pastel color and gave it pretty ribbon on the wall. Along with her knife collection that she label as "killing weapon hehehehehe"

1/10 would not life with her nor marry her

Sandrone

She'll have a random Katheryne arm laying around on your both room and she'll label it as "funny ass grabber"

She also have tons of gears laying on your bed and bathroom. There is also a fish wall decorations that sings snezhnaya National song in the most hell abyssal shit tons voice possible it sound something like

"for our queen- AUGGGHAUDKAVJ*broke*" AND THE WORST PART IT RANDOMLY SING AT NIGHT. AND SANDRONE DID NOTHING ABOUT IT DESPITE BEING A VERY SMART AT MECHANICAL ENGINEERING

She carved the soap on the bathroom to a hillicurl or smug face for fun.

Her room also look like a dollhouse but dark and filled with machine

There also a corpse with very dirty make up on her face.

2/10 weird.

Il Dottore

FUCKING -100/10

there is a lot of machines and doll part than he just throw away. He sometimes label it like "thigh worship item" or "funny killing machine" or just straight up "hehehehe"

He has a photo of someone he hates with a knife stabbing it.

There's a blood splatter under his bed and his mirror,when someone ask him what causes it he just said it was an accident

He has a Needle and mask hanging on his cardboards that he label as his achievement, there's also a my little pony fan art he made,he'll bark at u if u said my little pony isn't real

He ironically label everything in his room(he also label u at ur forehead) and all of them is labelled very weird "The very funny tickling feet machine 6079" or stuff like that

He have weird competition with Columbina to see who chew on random things the most,columbina score 5098 Dottore score 5076

He bites on ur arm too

Crimes against humanity

Scaramouche

Also crimes against humanity 1/10

He has lot of bloody knifes on his wall it painted some spot of his walls red.

He has murder list of people he wanna get rid of

1. Mom

2. Mom pink fox

3. Shogun

And it just goes on..

723,895. Myself

He's kind of weird tbh😭, someone cure his mommy issues and identity crisis (I can't be his mother figure but I can be his mommy figure)

There also a dead bird on his windows. And also there's a katheryne arm laying on his floor that has note saying "if u lose ur arm u can use my ass grabbers 567-69A CV Android"

He has self of potion and a pack of milk powder that he slurp like nicotine when he's stressed.

He has a black cat he named fandango (he don't actually name him fandango but Childe and other keep calling it fandango so he continues to call it fandango) who is just like him,shitty and grumpy

But his bed is incredibly nice and comfy tho

2/10 pity poin

I don't remember when I write this tbh,enjoy???🥳🥳🥳

[ragingbookdragon]

Just Know It Takes It From Me To End This, Darling

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: First day back done and I am exhausted :') Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She frowned as she held the phone to her ear, sniffing slightly to pull off the “I’m sick” fake; she’d taken the day off too, just so she didn’t have to see him, hopefully it had helped her with her façade. “I’m really sorry about dinner tonight, Bruce. This all just hit me out of nowhere and I’m really not feeling to hot right now.”

His smile was heard even through the phone. “You don’t have to worry about dinner. I’ll come by and drop some off. We could watch some—”

“No!” she panicked. “The last thing you need it to get sick too. Just—just gimme a day or two to get over this and I’ll see you again.”

“Are you sure?” he worried. “It’s not bother to me if I get sick. I want to take care of you, darling. You know when you feel bad, so do I.”

Oh, it tugged at her heart to hear those words. To hear that promise and she smiled tightly. “I’m sure, Bruce.” She coughed a little, hoarsely clearing her throat. “I’ll see you sometime soon. Goodnight Bruce.”

She didn’t wait for his response, pulling the phone from her ear to end the call. Her gaze shifted from the screen to the dark sky outside and a heavy-hearted sigh escaped her as she shoved her phone into her purse and left her apartment, bundling in a coat against the Gotham snow.

***

Another plop sounded from the stone dropping into the water and she propped her chin on her elbow atop the railing, gazing disinterestedly at the ripples. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed but her sheets, no matter how many times she washed them, smelled like his cologne, and the last thing she wanted to do was think about him. It’d been pure luck that Bruce had met her, and unfortunately fallen in love with her. A hopeless romantic more familiar with unrequited loves than anything else being wooed by the biggest playboy in Gotham City.

She sighed again, tossing another stone and someone coughed behind her; she jumped a foot in the air and gasped like a horrible protagonist in a cheap eighty’s movie, spinning to see Gotham’s Dark Knight before her.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she breathed, “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me, Batman.”

“It’s not safe to be out here alone.” His voice was gruff and quiet.

She shrugged, turning back to the water. “Yeah, well, I needed to think.”

Feeling him beside her, she listened as he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing you should be concerned about, Batman,” she murmured. “Nothing important, at least.”

He watched her. “You’re (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend.”

A loathing smile crossed her lips. “For now.”

“You’re going to leave him?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know if I can. He’s…too sweet for me to bring it up.”

“How so?”

(Y/N) looked over, brows furrowed as she questioned, “Isn’t Bruce your benefactor? Why on earth do you want to know why I want to break up with him?”

Batman merely answered, “Because you seem like you need to talk it out.”

Her eyes darted to the water and all the emotion in her chest started to well up again. “It’s stupid.”

“Try me,” he encouraged. “Is something bothering you in the relationship?”

“No. Bruce he’s…he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. Kind, attentive, funny. It’s just…”

“It’s just?”

(Y/N) met his gaze once more and whispered, “I don’t think I’m what Bruce needs.”

Even Batman seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

She gestured to herself. “I’m not a beautiful model that stars of the cover of the world’s greatest magazines or some super smart influential socialite. I’m a nobody from Gotham City and I feel that one day—” (Y/N) swallowed thickly against the lump in her throat, hand moving up and down in front of her chest as if it’d speak the words for her and pushed out, “One day he’ll wake up and realize there’s more for him than me.”

Letting out a shaky breath, she huffed pitifully, “Hell, I’ve never even been with anyone before Bruce. I was like a fumbling teen virgin the first time we had sex and honestly, I think I hid it well enough, but I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

(Y/N) wiped her face. “I’ve always chased love and tried so hard to be what people want but even then, I always got the whole, ‘I like you, but I just want to be friends’ spiel and just when I thought about giving up on love, Bruce Wayne walks into my life and says he’s in love with me.” She glanced over, voice soft as she whispered, “I dread the day he knows there’s someone better than me. Because I know there is and I feel like if I leave him now, it won’t hurt as bad as it would if it were however long down the line before it happens.”

Her fingers were shaky. “It’s embarrassing, this anxiety and lack of confidence but I’ve never known love like I have with Bruce. It’s everything you read about in those stupid cheesy romance novels, and I love every moment with him.” She shook her head. “But I can’t wait for him to break my heart.”

Batman took it all in, the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, the fear yet love in her voice, the obvious feelings she had for him, and he smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m not going to break your heart, (Y/N).”

She gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he thumbed her hand. “And I don’t want a model or another socialite.” Bruce leaned forward and took her chin in his free hand, tipping it up as he murmured, “I want you.”

“I’m dreaming,” she blurted out. “I’ve obviously been hit by a car and am currently in some type of coma dream.”

He snorted. “No, I watched you leave your apartment and come here.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You were watching me?”

“You were faking sickness. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce replied defensively. “I worry.” She went silent. “Darling?”

“So, all that?” she whispered. “You…you’re not upset?”

“Darling,” Bruce admonished, taking her into his arms, wrapping her in the long Kevlar cape; she pressed her cheek to the bat symbol, his familiar cologne wafting up her nose. “I knew something was bothering you…but I didn’t know it was this that was upsetting you.” He caressed the back of her head. “I’m not upset with you. I was just waiting to see if you were going to voice it.”

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Just horrible anxiety and ill confidence.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, (Y/N),” Bruce said. “If anything, I should be apologizing for not reassuring you sooner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pulled back slightly and gazed at her, and even beneath the cowl, she could tell his eyes were full of love, only because the smile on his face told her so. “Would you like to get dinner with me?”

(Y/N) smiled tearfully. “Yeah…I’d love that.”