Sometimes I boot Gotham Knights just to enjoy the background ambience of Gotham at night while I'm doing other stuff. It's nice hearing the occasional quip from an NPC as something happens down on the streets below, paired with the gentle drumming of the incessant rain. If you scale up high enough, all you'll hear is the rain and the gentle thrum of the city. It's quite meditative in a way.
Sometimes, I leave it running and forget it's the game and not a similar ambient sound on YouTube. I don't even think to check sometimes. I just leave my word processor in fullscreen mode and go about my tasks like a Roomba bumping into things and wandering off to do others.
All of this is to say I just about pissed myself when, after forty minutes of uninterrupted writing and listening to what I thought was YouTube, I went down into the dimly lit basement to do laundry with my noise-canceling headset on, only to get halfway through loading the washer when I heard the dulcet, expressive tones of Jason Todd sighing directly into my ear like gravel sliding over sheet metal.
When I tell you, the scream I screamt. Hgjkgolwmeoihgksdjvmn
Like I'm so sorry, Mister Todd. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you up there in the rain, but also CAN YOU NOT?!
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Gojo Satoru running in a downpour just to give you an umbrella
💗 さとる
Note : u know like in the s2 ending. it's 4:30 am the birds are chirping n here i am... writing cheesy gojo fluff lol. ignore errors... i'm sleep deprived 😭✌️
"Satoru... did you run all this way... in the rain?"
He's panting and desperately trying to catch his breath, bearing a half-smile at you. His uniform is completely soaked through. His shoes are leaky and his socks are squelchy with rainwater. His hair is completely flat-wet. Water drips off the ends of strands.
You and him are under the highway bridge, it shields you from the torrential rain, which he just rain through all the way from Jujutsu High.
"Y-yeah... well... only because y–you texted me saying... that you didn't... have an umbrella. So." he huffs, a rivulet of water dripping off his pointy chin.
You squint at him in disbelief. It's so funny.
This boy. This poor teenage boy. With noodly arms and legs and a poor posture. Just ran all this way here. To give you an umbrella.
Just to give you a damn umbrella.
"You're nuts."
He makes a smile at that. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Y/n."
A long silence passes.
He sucks in a breath and makes a sideways look.
"Uh... sooo... do I get like... a cheek kiss for this, or something? Maybe? ... please? No? Yes? Or an appreciative "thank you, 'Toru you're my knight in shining armour!" maybe? How about a—"
"No." you tease.
"Aw dang, I'll just go fuck myself then. We're divorcing. And I'm taking custody of the umbrella." He jokes.
He bends his back and knees to lower himself to your height, so he can make sure you get your share of cover under the transparent umbrella. You give him a sudden cheek kiss once he's lowered himself enough to be reachable for your lips.
He malfunctions. His brain has to actively register what just happened to his body. And then once it realizes he's just received a cheek kiss, his whole face starts to glow. His whole body freezes up.
He blushes boyishly. Because of course he would, he's just been kissed by his 3-year crush best friend.
But then he reassumes his annoying Gojo Satoru persona within a minute.
"Awww... you must like me."
"Shut up. And stop crouching like that. You'll scare a child."
"My future wife is so mean to me...! 😩"
"I'm not your "future wife", Satoru."
He sticks his tongue out at you. But then his playful tone suddenly drops. He looks at you. And he earnestly says;
"I will make sure that you are. No matter what... I wanna be yours."
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There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.
Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.
“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.
“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”
“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.
He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.
“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.
“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”
“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”
“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”
“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”
“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”
It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.
“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”
Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”
“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.
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