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wearing peter’s fingerless gloves because your hands get cold when you’re walking around, and while his fingers fit them perfectly, yours barely break the top. he’s seen you drool over how long his fingers look in them and yours are just tiny. he sees you making typos you’d never make when you’re trying to text him a joke abt someone else on the subway and can’t help giggling at it.
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there’s just something that screams ‘i have a crush on goku’ about zamasu deciding to embrace goku black the way he does.
yes, it’s himself, but it’s also the visage of the person he’s become infatuated with. so he’s kind of
acting out this weird hero-worship fantasy about goku being able to understand him, and uh- showing him the affection and acceptance of his vision that he wants.
He snapped the disposable gloves on as he snagged the bottles of oil and headed to the garage. His phone was still blasting the song on repeat as he wandered over to his bike and started working on the machine’s routine maintenance. Practiced hands made quick work of placing the drip pan beneath. He pulled a rag from his pocket, just in case he slopped the stuff. Heel tapped to the beat as he watched the old liquid drain away, Steve half speaking, half singing along with the tune. “Funky little monkey, she's a twisted trickster Everybody wants to be the sister's mister Coca-Cola roller-coaster - Love her even though I'm not supposed ta.”
years ago ;
It's about Harvey - he's caught up on his studies, he's enjoying debate club - but I'm worried about him.
He's being social these days, right?
Yes, but -
then don't worry too much.
Yesterday he threw his desk across the room. Dented it and the wall.
Living up to his name, then?
Please. This could be serious. I can't teach him if I don't know what's setting him off. I don't want to wait until he hurts another student, or me, for that matter.
These kids don't always go home to the best environment. You know that. Harvey's just --- bigger, and louder about it. Give him an after-school detention and a trip to the guidance counselor. If there's anything they can do, they'll do it.
If there isn't?
Then Gotham's public school system isn't the place for him. We have hundreds of students living at or below the poverty line. If we reported them all, we wouldn't have time for anything else.
I suppose we wouldn't.
The heat is making Arkham more unbearable than usual.
Inmates walk about in as few layers as possible. They gather in front of slow-moving fans and the demand for water has gotten so extreme that there's a table with a more-or-less 'self serve' station with water jugs and all - which may not last very long, but for now, most everyone seems too tired and dazed to think of pulling any nasty tricks with everyone's water. That may not last as it cools down, and some of the inmates get a little more emboldened by the relief.
Harvey is among the first to take a little refuge outside of Victor Fries' temperature-controlled cell. The stone of the wall feels nice and cool on his back.
He looks to Aaron, who has removed his guard cap to fan his face a little with the barely-moving air.
They both look at the high-power water hose used to contain riots... and Croc.
"Don't even think about it, Harv."
Harvey just smiles.
"Wouldn't dream of it. Don't think it would do much for the stink, anyway."
They sit together for a bit, commiserating.
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"You were so cute I could have pinched your cheeks right then and there if I didn't think it'd ruin your image as Gotham's fighting DA."
She can now, though, in the comfort of their own home. He really does have such precious little dimples when he smiles. Sure, he's handsome, but it's a treat to see him looking so... cute.
"My Harvey, shaking hands with the Batman. You were absolutely pink, you know. With that kind of face, I hope I don't have to worry about him falling head over heels for you, too."
"I was flustered by the attention, sweetheart. I'm not used to being mobbed by reporters quite yet."
She plants a smooch on his forehead, and hugs his head into her chest.
"He's your hero, huh?"
"I don't like that he works outside the law."
"That's the answer you're legally obligated to say, but what does Harvey, my husband think?"
He looks rather thoughtful, given his position snuggled up to her.
"...I wish I could do his job, but I have to do mine."
"Yours is just as important."
