#ofhatters

Pam walked into her apartment, two recyclable cups filled with tea in hand. Jervis had slept over after he’d had a particularly rough night. Alice had shot him in the hand, which he deserved, but Pam didn’t want him to be alone. He might bleed out, or go and fall down another rabbit hole and end up dead. “Morning, Jervis,” she said, noticing him lying on her couch, watching cartoons with Frank. “I got you a tea.” She walked over to him, putting the cups down on the coffee table. “How’re you feeling?” she asked, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Hopefully, it’d brighten his mood a little. “I need to change your bandages soon.”

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same??? it’s like. as soon as a woman gives birth or hits 35, their vagina is sent back to god and they have to be nuns. bioshock has indeed always been strange about mothers but if ken lev’s oddly personal fb posts (im his friend on fb dont judge me but they’re public posts anyway so anyone can see) are anything to go by, he’s had familial issues w/ his own mother and this might be his way of working through it. still, it’s disappointing; seeing as they seem to either want to paint mothers is whores or magnum bitches (and very often succeed) in both of these tropes. 

“A blessing is a strong choice of words.” Ever since the pool incident, Pam had barely been able to tolerate Ed. Punching him in the mouth had made her feel better about it, though. She finally felt like they were even, and able to be in the same room as each other again. “I suppose you’re not terrible,” she said, crossing one leg over the other as she stared at him. “But that’s as nice and generous as I’m going to be. I will not inflate your ego, Edward.” He was always so in need of praise. Wasn’t that what his magical boyfriend was for? “I’ll be blessed with your death if you ever try and get me in a pool again, though.” ( @ofriddler )

 ( @ofclownprince )

Pamela was shocked by Jervis’s words, and she whipped her head around to look at him. “Excuse me?” She walked over to him, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. Only a sick Jervis would say something so untrue. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked, reaching for his hand and checking the bandages. He wasn’t bleeding out. “I’m concerned, Jervis. Do I need to call Arkham? I don’t understand why you’re saying these things.” He’d had a crush on her since they’d first met, and he was incredibly obvious about it. At one point, he asked if a blonde wig would make her more attracted to him. “Go and get into bed, I’ll bring some water and painkillers.” She was more concerned about this than she was about the hole in his hand. “I can’t believe this…” she muttered to herself, walking away to go to the kitchen.

( @ofgcpd )

Alice kept her arms wrapped around Jim, allowing him to make her feel safe. After Jervis’s visit the other night, she was constantly scared. The horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach never eased up, and her heart was nearly always pounding. She couldn’t focus on anything else – all that mattered was getting away from her brother. “Thank you for always trying to protect me,” she mumbled against Jim’s shoulder, her arms squeezing him tighter. He was the only man from Gotham who she could trust. He’d helped her escape once, and he’d probably help her again. It was what a man like him did. He was a white knight. There was a hint of a smile on her face as loosened her grip on him. “If my dad would’ve lived… I think I’d like him to be like you.” While he thought on those words, she turned her head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ( @ofgcpd )