#someone come hit me with a broom pls so I can get my ass back in gear..
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pile 'a clothes in front of me... need to fold 'em, but good GOD at the sheer amount of things that I would rather do...
halfway through thinking abt this post I realized my adhd meds have worn off and that's why I feel like a Sim who's moodlet thingies are all in the red 💀💀
#jules.intothevoid✨#someone come hit me with a broom pls so I can get my ass back in gear..#got home from work today and the effort??? evaporated. all gone.#honestly that was probably outta here on the 7th loan I processed this afternoon 😤🙄#okay bye ily
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Stray kids reaction to s/o asking them to help when they see a spider
Okay I also imagine almost all of them are going to be more scared than you HAHAHAHA ps. I am also afraid of spiders egsdjbdgnd anything is good just not spiders pls i will literally die.
Genre: Crack
` C H A N ▪
Chan is a sweetheart. We all know that. When you saw the spider near the door when you were about to go out and buy groceries, you immediately went inside Chan’s studio. You just sit there on the sofa, he doesn’t notice you right away when you sit down because he had headphones on. Minutes later he’s shocked to see you still here.
“I thought you were going out to buy groceries? What are you still doing here?”
“Well, funny story. I was going to go out, but then, haha. I saw this thing on the door, and I just bolted here for safety.”
“May I ask what you saw?” He asks still confused.
“It’s a spider.” You say getting goosebumps just by saying it. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I would have gotten rid of it for you?”
“You were busy. I couldn’t possibly disturb you.” You say to him.
“I’m never busy for you babe.” He says and stands up from his chair.
“Now, where is that spider that scared you hm?”
` M I N H O ▪
Minho would teasingly threaten the spider that scared you. Then tease you for getting scared of the spider.
“What would you do if I weren’t here to take that spider outside?” He asks you as closes the front door. “I would wait for you to get home. Easy.”
“But what if I was on tour? Are you gonna wait months just for me to take it out?” He asks while sitting next to you on the couch.
“You need to protect our children y/n! They are also afraid of spiders, random things also but that not the point. What would you do if I wasn’t here?”
“I would probably stand near it mustering up the courage to even kill it. Then maybe scream a little bit, then look at it then get disgusted by it. Then maybe I’ll finally get the courage to kill it.”
“Well at least I know you can do it if I’m away on tour. You need to protect our children when I’m on tour okay?” He says while holding up his pinky finger.
“Okay okay. But while you’re here, you handle all the bug stuff, okay?” You say while also holding out your pinky.
“Deal.”
` C H A N G B I N ▪
Changbin would be scared too. But then his mind reminds him of the times where you keep telling him that he was so cute and soft when all he wanted to hear from you that he was manly and strong. So this was the time to prove it.
When he heard you calling for him from the other room, voice full of panic, he would run to you. When he saw that there was a small spider on the table, he would be kind of insulted. That small thing? Even he was afraid of spiders but not that small of a spider.
“You’re scared of that?” He says as he looks at you with disbelief.
“Yes! It may be small for you, but for me it’s really huge!”
“If I kill it will you stop calling me cute and soft? I don’t work out to be called soft y/n.” He says seriously.
“Yeah, sure whatever. Just please get rid of it.”
Changbin grabs a tissue and quickly throws it out. “See? Easy peasy.” He says while smiling at you cutely. “How am I supposed to call you manly and strong when you smile at me like that? You just make my heart melt?” You say while pouting at him and pinching his cheeks.
“Want me to get that spider from the trash and put it in our room?” He threatens you. “Oh my manly and strong, very strong boyfriend! What would I do without you?” You say sarcastically.
“I’ll accept it, but you have to fix the tone next time babe.”
` H Y U N J I N ▪
Let’s be real. He will act all tough and cocky when you tell him to help you get rid of the spider. But the second he sees it, he will be more scared than you.
“You’re scared of a small spider? Come on y/n I thought you were better than this!” You then explain to him that it was kinda huge and how you really needed to pee and it was just sat near the toilet. He peeks in the bathroom and low and behold there it was. A big ass spider near the toilet. He closes the door and looks back at you.
“You didn’t tell me it was that big of a spider.”
“I did! You wouldn’t believe me!” You say.
“How can a spider be that big? We live in Korea, not in Australia!” He practically screams.
“I know right! So, can you kill it?” Hyunjin takes out his phone and calls someone. “Who are you calling?” You ask him, suddenly curious.
“Chan hyung.” He says. “Why?”
“He lived in Australia. We can call him and ask him to help us take it out. He is used to seeing big spiders right?” He says while waiting for Chan to pick up.
5 minutes later Hyunjin ends the call with Chan and smiles at you. “He’s coming in 10 minutes. Can you hold it in for 10 more minutes?”
“I don’t have a choice now do I?” You say. 10 minutes has never felt so long for you.
` J I S U N G ▪
Jisung would be scared. He would try to kill the spider or at least take it out of the house. But he would be really disgusted and would hesitate when he got close to it.
“Come on Jisung you can do it!” You say 10 feet away from him.
“I can’t! It’s staring into my soul y/n! Can’t we just burn the house down or something?” He says practically shaking from where he stands.
“We can’t! This is the only home we have so we need to protect it!” You say going next to him. The bug spray in your hands.
“We’re gonna need great teamwork here okay? I spray it, you sweep it outside. Like the farthest you can sweep it okay?” You say to him. He nods his head and grips the broom tighter. You spray the spider and you both scream when it falls on the floor.
“Go Jisung! Sweep it out!” You practically scream at him. you rush to the door to open it for him and he legit does it like he’s playing golf. The spider shoots out of your door and you quickly shut it. You go near him and you both high five each other.
“We make a great team.”
“That we do.”
` F E L I X ▪
Felix would definitely try his best to get rid of the spider. Kinda scared of it also. But when he sees you with those pleading eyes of yours for him to kill it, he musters up all the courage that he’s got.
“Come on Felix you can do this. Do it for y/n. Look at how scared she is. You need to protect her.” He says to himself while going near the spider. He holds the magazine in his hand tighter, ready to swing it at the spider.
“Wait!” You scream. He looks at you wide eyed. “What?”
“What if it has eggs? When you hit it with the magazine it’s eggs will be all over the place!”
“What do you suggest we do?” You get up from your spot and get a clear container with a lid. You hand it to him then run back to your spot.
“There, catch it then we can leave the container outside for the night. Or we can throw out the container. I am not touching that ever again.”
He takes the lid off and catches the spider. You guys throw it in the trash then he looks at you.
“See? Told you I’m not scared of spiders.” He says while standing proudly and patting himself on the back.
“I never said you were. Also, I heard you giving yourself a pep talk when you were gonna smack it.”
` S E U N G M I N ▪
He would not be scared at all. Boy has seen worse than that small spider you were afraid of. You would be sitting at the corridor just outside of your bedroom, and he would be really confused.
“What are you doing out here?”
“There is a spider in our room, and I’m too scared to get it out.”
“Where?” You show him where the spider was and he almost laughs at you.
“You’re scared of a small spider? This type doesn’t even bite us. It feeds on smaller bugs.”
“I don’t care if it doesn’t want to eat me. Can you just take it out please? You know how scared I am of spiders.” You say to him while hiding more behind him. Not wanting to see the monstrosity.
“Okay okay. Pass me a tissue please.” You give him one and you are really amazed at how he doesn’t even bat an eyelash when he catches the spider and walks to the garbage outside of your house.
You clap loudly when he comes back inside. “My hero!” You say then hug him real tight. “Anything for you baby.” He says while hugging you tight.
` J E O N G I N ▪
Would legit reply with “But I’m baby” to you. You both are scared of spiders and none of you were ready to die yet so you both didn’t know what to do.
“But you’re my boyfriend! You’re supposed to protect me!”
“Yeah! From like creeps or stranger danger or to anyone else! Not a spider! I’m also afraid of those things! Like the legs and all.” You both shudder at what he says. Both disgusted by the spider near the ceiling of your living room.
“What are we gonna do then? Let it live peacefully in our home? What are we gonna do next? Let it pay the rent for us?” You say to him sarcastically.
“why don’t we just call one of the boys to get it for us?” He says while taking out his phone.” He dials a number then looks at you. You were staring at the ceiling with a worried look.
“y/n? Hello? You okay?” He asks. You look at him with wide eyes.
“I-It’s not there anymore.” He looks over at the spot where it once was. It. Was. Not. There.
“D-Do you wanna sleep over at the dorms for a few days?”
“Sure, let’s go. Hurry!”
#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids reactions#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#skz reactions#skz fluff#skz crack#stray kids crack#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#kpop imagines
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Tagged by @kindclaws to answer her ten questions and then write ten of my own! I adore you and I adore this concept SO much thank you for tagging me!!! 🖤🖤
1. You can capture any smell in the world into a candle. What is it?
The smell of the forest after a rainy night, where the ground is still damp but the pine seems to have been awoken and the air is fresh from isolation and lingering winter from being at such a high elevation. There’s a hint of campfire burning in the undertones.
2. You can bring something back from extinction, whether that’s a dodo or a discontinued chocolate bar from your childhood. What is it?
Part of my instinct is to say “humanity’s belief that we can work together for a better future” and the other half of me says “Taco Bell’s Quesalupa”
3. What fictional world did you always wish you could escape to?
As a kid it was Harry Potter, my best friend and I would play the video games and just self-insert ourselves and like twenty OCs and characters we loved and play “as them” instead of Harry. Which now that I think about it was absolutely what got me into fanfiction. I was just so frustrated in school all of the time I longed for the idea of Hogwarts. I also made up a lot of worlds as a kid! I actually had a mural painted on my wall for most of my childhood that was a big fantasy scene set up with a castle and a forest with fairies, unicorns, elves, etc. and I’d fall asleep pretending I lived in the mural. I’ve been yearning from day one my friends.
4. If you did, say, fall into a portal to another fantasy world with like dragons and swords, what would you consider fighting to come back for? Would you?
My boyfriend because I’m a sap! But then I’d be down for us to go back in as long as I had a camera on me because SO COOL.
5. What would you love to study if there were no tuition costs, no exams, no pressure to be hireable - or why not?
No exams = astronomy. I love space and I’m so fascinated by it but as someone who’s really bad at anything science or math related, I just want to sit in classes and learn about it. No tuition costs = just writing extensive research papers analyzing different movies and shows. My favorite essays I wrote in college were either literature interpretations (ex: Pride and Prejudice through a feminist/marxist lens), the making of the Lord of the Rings series, and a feminist analysis of the Disney Princess film franchise using quantitive and qualitative research. I’d love to do more of that and just take classes that related to it (I would love to do one on religion/myths and the 100 for example).
6. Advertisements are now illegal. What do you fill the empty billboards with?
TAKE THE BILLBOARDS DOWN. Jk mmm. Probably like some type of activism thing either about the environment? Or something peaceful/visually interesting so that people felt inspired when they saw it! So idk maybe pictures or something historical that’s from that location specifically?
7. Best way to eat a potato?
Beyond just saying “every way,” at the end of the day I’m a basic and a sucker for french fries. But I will go on record and say my mom makes the best mashed potatoes and if you’re doing a baked potato don’t forget to hit the ends and roll it before cutting it open #just idaho things.
8. You have an unlimited home improvement budget and full creative control. What fun and zesty nonsense do you do to your house or workplace?
Oh THIS is a thrilling question. A really elaborate bar area so we could easily make all of our own cocktails and host parties. A room for all of our Disney memorabilia that we collect so it would need room for pins, posters/artwork, figurines. Probably Haunted Mansion or Tomorrowland themed. Honestly the living room would look straight out of a 50′s/60′s retro future modernist house. This isn’t even that wild but I just need a lot of surface area so I can have the coffee-table book collection of my dreams. Also a huge makeup room and office area for me to work in.
9. I’m running out of dinner ideas. Pls link me your favourite recipe.
aksldfjs I’m trash at cooking! Big fan of the simpleness of making spaghetti and buying a big ass baguette to split over a glass of cheap wine. Here’s an untested recipe that I’m hoping to try out this weekend though – Asado Chicken and Sauteed Lemon Zucchini!
10. What have you poured your soul into?
Making every thought and creative idea I have take over myself. Never stopping thinking about how things are made, how I could make it, what feeling it gives me. Immediately understanding colors and fonts and aesthetics so that I can try and create the worlds and ideas in my head. I’m consumed by the need to be making at all times and that’s from letting my imagination run the show.
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Tagging: @the-most-beautiful-broom, @formerlyjannafaye, @annabthschase, @dylanobrienisbatman, @immortalcockroach, and @lucascsinclairs! My questions are below the cut!
1. You’re given the chance to be naturally good at something without needing to practice it ever again – what is it?
2. What’s a tradition you have with loved ones (family, friends, romantic, any!) that you really enjoy doing? Even if it’s random or not connected to a holiday!
3. Is there something out there that gives you that aching, yearning feeling in your gut that you can’t quite name?
4. Tell me something that’s made you smile recently!
5. Is there something just out of reach right now? A goal? A dream? If you take a minute or two now, are you able to think of the steps you could take to get closer to it?
6. What do you want people to associate with you? Like if someone says, “I saw/heard/thought of [x] and I thought of you!” – what would fill you with delight because that means they really get you?
7. Think back, any weird childhood obsession or memory that is such a weirdly specific thing from back then that you haven’t thought about until I asked you this question?
8. Describe your life or yourself in fanfic terms like on AO3.
9. Quick! What’s something underrated that you love and that more people need to know about? Can be anything, doesn’t have to be fandom related.
10. It’s game night and you’re determined to be the victor. What game do you bring that you know you’re the champion of no matter how hard your friends try?
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Good to see you, friends!
Holy Crap I forgot to put up last week’s Dororo EP! Well this is awkward... Uh Read this before my EP 6 post? Pls?
Synopsis: Man Hyakkimaru’s really having a rough time. I mean, I can’t really blame him. It’s a shame he had to get his sense of pain back before he got his hearing. It kind of royally sucked for him as evidenced by the fact that he’s all but incapacitated by the migraine of suddenly being SUPER-AWARE of every little sound around him. All of it flooding over him at once. Not to mention he’s wounded from fighting and is starting to run a fever. It could be worse though. Our dynamic duo could be under attack by a Yo-
-kai. Well fuck. Fortunately Trainer Dororo calls Priest Dude from the PC to tag in for the injured Hyakkimaru. The Fearow is swiftly dealt with and our party is left with the problem of Hyakkimaru being paralyzed by sensory overload. They decide to sleep on the problem, and in the morning Hyakkimaru is lured away from the camp by a mysterious singing.
youtube
NO! NOT THAT SINGING! It’s actually the title character for this and the next episode Moriko. She is startled to see Hyakkimaru, but even moreso to find him injured. She takes our trio of troubled travellers to her homely hovel which she shares with several smaller squatters. Oh sorry I have a habit of lapsing into Alliteration. Let me translate: She’s living with a group of war-orphans who all look like they could use an assist from our old pal Jukai. Since the fighting drove them from their homes they’ve been living in what appears to be an abandoned shrine or estate that’s fallen into disrepair.
A broom-wielding youngster shoos her off to get some sleep explaining to our main characters that “Mio” works for Sakai’s troops at night and…
She’s a prostitute. Yeah, it’s supposed to be the big reveal at the end of the episode, but really? A pretty young woman who works for entrenched soldiers specifically at night? Particularly one who seems to carry a great weight and talks about doing everything they can to get by? Of course the clincher is when she gets back one morning to find Hyakkimaru waiting for her and even though he can’t see as far as she’s aware her first instinct is to pull her clothes tighter around her.
I feel like there’s something else I should cover before jumping to the episode wrap-up. Oh, Right! Asshole Father of the Year is doing his damnedest to cover his ass on the whole “The demons who gave him his power and fortune are dying” thing. Meanwhile his wife seems to be copping to the idea that her firstborn might be out there kicking demon ass. So she needles him on the topic. After years of prosperity their little province has been hit with a landslide, drought, and now war is brewing. She makes a point to remind ASS-DAD that their country sits upon a tiny cornerstone. All the while son #2 is in the wings scowling well enough to make his father proud. This can not end well.
Back with the people we care the most about, Mr. Potato Priest has found a place where Mio and her band of Orphans can hole up and live in peace. Unfortunately there’s a big honkin demon squatting on the lot. Hyakkimaru instantly enters GO-mode despite still being wounded, feverish, and barely able to stand having his hearing restored. Priest-man follows as backup and Mio decides that if they’re going to work that hard for the sake of her and her collection of survivors then she can work harder to make sure they have what they need to move. She announces that she’s going to start working for both sides of the battle that night and goes off to get some sleep. Dororo promises the broom-meister that Mio will have someone there to stop her if she tries to work too hard. This can only end well.
Hyakkimaru and the WarPriest square off against a giant Sand Lion thing. With Hyakkimaru injured it’s a tough fight, but they manage to see it through though Hyakkimaru loses a foot to the thing before it’s over. Fortunately for him he gets his voice back in exchange just in time to scream in pain from the fact that he’s DOWN ONE FOOT!
Meanwhile Dororo is following Mio’s trail and hears her singing in the near distance. Following the sound and the light of torches Dororo sneaks through the tall grass to find [faux gasps] Mio is sleeping with a couple soldiers!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cphNpqKpKc4
Thoughts: I crack a joke at that last reveal, but really it is a disturbing scene. Her broken singing basically working to drive home her “lie back and think of the children” attitude. Now, if I turn out to be wrong and this was her first time accepting such a job I’ll have some serious apologies to make next week, but so far as all the hints in this episode go I feel pretty strongly that I was right to guess at this “twist” long before we saw it.
The whole episode was well-designed to give the audience a drained feeling. We’re seeing the up-to-now unflappable Hyakkimaru straight-up sidelined by the pain he’s going through. The pace is a lot slower with less overall going on despite the fact that we get not one, but two Yokai fights. Much like our main character the only time we can get some relief from the tension are the moments when Mio is singing and those moments are all too brief. As soon as her song comes to an end we’re reminded that things are not going so well.
Strength in the face of adversity was a theme I really strongly picked up on in this episode. Whether it was from Hyakkimaru gritting his teeth through the flood of overwhelming noise his world has become. Dororo shouldering the burden of worry caused by Hyakkimaru’s condition. Mio putting on a brave face and act for the children under her care. Takedo stepping up and taking leadership of the kids when she has to sleep. Every character is under strain, and all of them are trudging along regardless, because the only way to free yourself from stress is to bear it until you either address the sources of that stress or they dissipate of their own accord.
As has been the case all season this episode of Dororo was fantastic. Look forward to it every week, and I hope you do as well.
#Anime#Let's Talk Anime#Dororo#Dororo Anime#Dororo 2019#Fictionerd#In-Character#Winter 2019#Winter Season 2019#Winter Anime 2019
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Batfam Week: Day 2 - Trapped
through different colored glasses
The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.
They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.
But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.
“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”
“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his black eye, “why is it my fault?”
“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”
or, alternatively, Bruce confiscates Jason's rocket launcher and sets off a chain reaction, Dick somehow gets dragged into Jason's mess, Tim wishes his brothers weren't maniacs, and maybe it's really a matter of points of view
The Justice League, Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen in particular, love to say that Bruce is too serious.
They say he needs to lighten up. They say he is too anal about things. They say he is too strict. They say a whole lot of things.
But Hal Jordan and Oliver Queen do not have to deal with things like this.
“Bruce, I’m telling you,” Tim says, frantically, “this is in no way my fault. If I had to blame anyone, it would be Dick anyway!”
“Me?” Dick cries, scandalized that his brother would throw him under the bus like this, and almost lets the ice pack slip from his face, “why is it my fault?”
“I don’t know,” Jason drawls, sounding utterly bored by the whole situation, “I think I agree with Replacement on this.”
Bruce should intervene before it escalates further, he really should. Even if it’s nearing four in the morning and he has a board meeting at 8 am. Alfred wouldn’t be happy if Bruce just went back to bed and left them to resolve this on their own. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “keep your voices down, Alfred is sleeping. Good. Now, start from the beginning.”
Dick and Tim immediately begin talking over each other. He doesn’t know what else he expected, really. “One at a time.”
“Fine,” Jason says, leaning against his rocket launcher, “I’ll start.”
*
All Jason wants is to get Roxy back.
Honest.
She is an integral part of his arsenal and she has so many memories attached to her. The emotional value is priceless. Like, remember that time he tried to blow up an entire building with Black Mask inside? Good times, he knows.
So yeah, Jason wants Roxy, his beloved rocket launcher, back.
And in all fairness, Bruce had no business confiscating it this time. He hadn’t been planning on firing her against Penguin’s stupid warehouse. It was just for intimidating purposes, mostly.
But getting her back, it’s not gonna be easy, Jason knows. Since the last time, he bets Bruce won’t simply lock her in the armory.
Since asking is not an option, and apologizing is entirely too unfair on his part, Jason does what he has to do. He waits until everyone is out on patrol and Alfred is down in the Cave, and sneaks into the Manor.
It’s quite easy, in fact. Less than fifteen minutes and he’s silently roaming the empty hallways.
You’d expect more, it being Batman’s house and all.
The tracker says it’s not downstairs. Jason walks around aimlessly, watching the tiny red dot blinking on his phone as it grows and shrinks with each turn.
Not in any of the bedrooms, not in the living room, not in the pantry. The second floor, past the music room, past another row of unused bedrooms, past Bruce’s study, past–
Finally. In one of the old ass broom closets.
Jason opens it slowly, cringing at how loud it creaks in the otherwise silent house.
Peering inside, he sighs in relief. There she is. Cue in shitty cliche music. Roxy, in all her rocket glory, stands in the corner of the room, the only shiny object among all the dust-coated, forgotten things.
Ah, how long have they stood there? Forsaken by mankind, refused by society. Sitting in a shrine of dust and cobwebs, never to see sunlight again–
*
“Oh for the love of god, Jason,” Tim kicks him in the shin, wincing when the movement jostles his sprained wrist, “quit bullshitting, your prose sucks.”
Bruce feels the beginning of a headache growing at the back of his head. Stress then. “Jason, please,” he sighs, “just cut to the chase.”
“Fine, fine. Jeez, talk about a tough crowd.”
*
Anyway. Where was he?
Oh, right.
So, Jason steps inside. And promptly dies a little more inside. Cobwebs stick to his everything. They get in his hair, on his clothes, even on his damn shoes. Of all the days to leave his helmet behind.
But he powers through. All for Roxy, do it for Roxy, he tells himself.
Finally, after crossing miles of disgusting cobwebs, Jason is reunited with his baby. She looks as gorgeous as the day he bought her, shiny and cool and deadly.
With his mission accomplished, he steels himself for the trek back.
In a totally unrelated note chain of events, a vase is knocked out by something– that may or may not have been Roxy as Jason turned around, but no one can prove that, so– and ends up falling to its side, knocking out a row of boxes that had been beside it on the highest shelf in the process, and then, as it topples down, one of the boxes falls open, letting a bowling ball roll away.
And, in a true feat of the Universe deciding to fuck over Jason, the ball hits the door. Or, more specifically, it hits the doorknob. Breaking it right off.
“Fuck no,” says Jason, with feeling. He hugs Roxy closer, cursing every god in existence and a few fake ones too, just because. If this was anyone else’s house, he wouldn’t think twice before kicking the door down.
But, as previously stated, this story is set on Batman’s house. Jason doesn’t trust an of the doors not to have some freaky sensor thing that’ll alert the big, bad Bat of any disturbance. He’s half convinced it already might have. For all he knows, Bruce could be a second away to breaking it down himself and yelling at Jason.
Even ignoring that particularly upsetting prospect, there’s a lot of ways he could open that door. He could pick the lock, he could unscrew the hinges, he could blow it off with Roxy. The only problem is that all of them are way too noisy for this way too silent place. At this hour Alfred is probably back upstairs, making post-patrol snacks. He would most definitely hear any attempt of messing with the door, Alfred has superhearing when it comes to the Manor, everybody knows that.
And Alfred Pennyworth’s wrath is way worse than Batman’s.
Jason checks the time. While breaking in had taken no time at all, wandering around certainly did. If tonight was slow, and it sounds like it was, they will all be back soon. He turns on his comm, just to check. Tuning in the frequency, he listens as Dick babbles about his stupid day job. Jason turns it off, cursing. If the idiot is babbling that much already, they must on their way back.
Now there really is no way out. Nothing that Jason knows would be fast enough to get him out before they all arrived. You can’t outrace the Batmobile. He is trapped.
Sliding down the dusty, moldy wall, Jason wallows in well-earned, very justified, self-pity, and waits.
Time seems to slow down to spite him further, a way for the Universe to fuck you in big, bold, neon letters. Well, fuck you too, buddy. He waits and waits and waits and waits, but nobody comes his way, because Bruce lives in this unnecessarily, ridiculously giant ass Manor with an unreasonable number of empty ass rooms.
Fed up with the whole situation, Jason ponders his options. On one hand, he could stay there forever, trapped in this tiny, disgusting broom closet, which by the way, has no brooms whatsoever, and waste away into eternity. Maybe he could live off the spiders for a bit, rats if he’s lucky. His arm too, he won’t need two to live in a closet. It might buy him a few months. Or, on the other hand, he could swallow his pride and call someone to come let him out of the damn closet.
He eyes the cobwebs on the upper right corner. Yeah, no, too disgusting. He can’t eat spiders, too creepy, too many legs, too many eyes. Nope, not gonna do it.
Calling someone it is.
Bruce is a no-go, obviously. The Brat, too. He would lord it over his head forever. Alfred? Nah, he would give Jason his disappointed look and shake his head in that sad way, and Jason would be left feeling like the worst person ever. Cass? Fuck, no, she’s still in Hong Kong. Tim, then? Maybe. The kid would definitely be the less annoying option. But he would also be a little shit about it, Jason would never hear the end of it. So that leaves… Dick? Really? Is he that desperate yet?
Let’s be real, he is.
But then again, Dick can be persuaded not to tell on him. If Jason uses the brother card right, maybe he can convince the idiot to keep quiet.
Yeah, he can do this. He survived being exploded, he can survive this.
So he sends him a text, help pls.
To which, Dick answers with a call. Jason declines, they’re operating in stealth mode here. Cant talk, u at the manor?
Yeah where are u? Whats going on? Are u hurt? His phone is thankfully on silent, buzzing with the new messages.
fine, he sends. Then, come to the broom closet next door to the next study after Bruce’s.
what?
quick no time for questions
Sighing deeply, Jason buries his hand on his hands. This is a nightmare. This is all his bad karma kicking his ass. This is hell, this is purgatory– in fact, this is the lovechild of hell and purgatory.
Then, just as he was about to despair, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Jason?”
“Shhh,” he winces at the loud voice, “in here.”
Dick opens the door unceremoniously, not bothered by the creaking hinges. He stands in the doorway, disheveled in his stupid pajama and looking confused like a stupid, lost duckling, “Jason, what do you think you’re doing? At this hour?” He asks, hands on his hips, sounding just as stupidly confused.
“This is an ongoing rescue mission,” Jason explains slowly, because it’s important not to rush Dick, best to let him process things on his own time, “and I needed you to bust me out.”
“What.”
“I’m bringing Roxy home, but the doorknob fell off on my side.”
“Oh,” Dick steps inside, examining the other side of the door to confirm that, in fact, the doorknob had indeed fallen off and Jason hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing, “it really fell off,” he says dumbly.
“Yeah, well, thanks for opening up the door,” Jason gets up, dusting himself off and then picking up Roxy, “and I’d appreciate if you would keep this, you know, between brothers? Great, now it’s time to scram.”
“Uh, Jason,” the idiot stammers out, looking panicked at Jason and pointing, “don’t freak out, but there’s a huge spider on your shoulder.” He takes a step back, totally freaking out, and bumps on the door. Slamming it shut. “Uh, this is bad.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason glares at him, easily flicking the small spider from off his shoulder, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”
Then, Dick wails in despair.
*
“Jason, that is not what happened!” Dick launches himself across the bed, trying to reach his brother but only managing in scaring Tim into climbing up the headboard, “stop telling everyone I’m dumb!”
“To be fair,” Jason says, watching amused, “you make it real easy.”
“Stop jostling the bed!” Tim complains from where he’s perched, cradling his injured wrist. He is going to fall, and it’s going to hurt, mattress or not, but Bruce doesn’t have the energy to get him down himself.
“Tim,” he warns, “if you fall and aggravate your injuries, you are going to tell Alfred yourself tomorrow.”
The teenager grumbles, sending Bruce a betrayed look, but slowly climbs down, scooting as far back as possible.
“Fine,” says Dick, frowning. He and Jason hadn’t stopped bickering yet, but Bruce hadn't expected them to. “here’s what really happened.”
*
Staring at the door, Dick can’t fathom what the hell Jason could be doing inside an unused broom closet. True, his brother can be a unpredictable at times, but this a new level of random.
He knocks at the door, just to be sure. Prank wars aren’t that rare around the Manor.
“In here,” Jason calls quietly. That’s never a good sign.
The door opens with noisy hinges that would probably make Alfred cringe. Dick takes in the scene. Jason is sprawled in one corner, hugging a rocket launcher. Near his feet, a bowling ball sways. Weird, he didn’t know Bruce used to go bowling.
Right. To more important things, “Jason, what the hell?”
“I’m rescuing Roxy,” Jason says unhappily, as if offended that how come Dick didn’t immediately jump to that totally reasonable conclusion, “and I needed you to bust me out.”
There are so many things to address, Dick isn’t sure where to begin. What even. Okay, first things first, “you named your rocket launcher Roxy?”
“That’s what you got from what I said?”
“Would you rather I focus on the fact you were trapped in a broom closet?” Dick rolls his eyes. Tonight patrol had been almost dull, suspiciously so. He should’ve known better. Clearly, Gotham seen Jason hiding in there and had taken pity on Dick, knowing the kind of wravoc Jason is undoubtedly going to bring down. On that note, “how did you manage that, by the way?”
Jason makes a non-committal noise, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the door as he gets to his feet with dramatic groans. Dick steps inside to take a better look at the thing, almost tripping on the bowling ball and sending it rolling to the other side of the room. The doorknob is missing and the metal is dented around where it should be. Really? How the hell did he break the whole thing clean off? “It fell off? How?”
“Sometimes,” Jason says, “it be like that. Now, if you could keep this just between us, I’d really appreciate it.”
Dick snorts, already expecting that, and shakes his head, turning around in time to see his brother dusting himself off and grimacing at the cobwebs sticking to his fingers. Gross. But then, something catches his eyes. Crawling its way up Jason’s shoulders, a black spider is quickly reaching his neck. Dick shudders, resisting the strong urge to check himself for any insect, “hm, Jason?” His brother looks up. “Don’t freak out, but there’s a spider on your shoulder.”
And, of course, Jason loses it.
“Shit, I said don’t freak out,” he rushes to stop him from tripping over anything or knocking any of the shelves down. Jason keeps trying to bat the thing off, but the cobwebs stick to his hand, leaving the spider dangling in the air, almost landing on his leg. “Hold still, stop squirming, you’re gonna– jesus christ.” In his frantic flailing, Jason manages to hit him with a painful elbow to the eye, causing Dick to stumble back and almost lose his balance.
Unfortunately, backing away means bumping right into the door. It closes with a loud thud.
“Okay,” Dick sighs, “this is bad.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason says, having stopped his ridiculous flailing around, “congratulations, now we’re both stuck.”
They watch in silence as the tiny black spider crawls across the room and up the wall. She’s surprisingly fast, and it makes him think of Wally, even if his friend would probably disagree with the comparison. Well, Wally isn’t here to see the little eight-legged speedster himself, therefore, he has no base for opinions, agreeable or not.
“I’m not eating spiders,” says Jason, out of nowhere and with no context whatsoever, “or my arm.”
“That’s good, I suppose,” Dick shrugs, because what else is he supposed to say to that, “cannibalism is generally frowned upon in most societies. And spiders are generally gross, even when they’re like Wally.”
“I really don’t wanna know,” he frowns, sitting back down where Dick first found him and beginning to check his rocket launcher for any damage, “but anyways, you wouldn’t know if Bruce boob-trapped the door, would you?”
Dick wants to say no, he does, but after spending his teenage years in the Manor, he can’t honestly say that’s not something he wondered in more than one occasion. Bruce’s absolute perfect timing used to border omniscience. It was almost supernatural. Every attempt at sneaking out after curfew was foiled before he could even make it to the gates. “I mean, I don’t think it’s going to blow up on our faces if we try to pick the lock.”
“But it might trigger a silent alarm,” Jason concludes, sounding resigned.
“How pissed do you think he’s gonna be?”
“With you? Very. With me, though? Astronomically.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “I don’t really feel like being lectured at three in the morning, how ‘bout you?”
“Think I’ll pass, too.” Dick should’ve been sleeping now. On his bed. Getting some rest before his shift tomorrow. He should’ve been sleeping, not sitting on a hard, dusty floor.
“Guess there’s no other way then, uh?” Jason says, like Dick is somehow supposed to know what the shit is going on in his head. Dick stares blankly at him until he huffs, annoyed, “we gotta call the Replacement, he’s the only one left.”
“No, wait, don’t wake him up.”If Dick remembers it right, Tim should be fast asleep by now, safely tucked in his room. No need to drag him into this disaster in the making. “God knows it’s an uphill battle to get him to actually sleep.”
Jason snorts. “Too late. He’s on his way.”
“What?” Son of a– ,“he was already awake, wasn’t he? Damn it. I really thought Alfred put something on his coffee.”
“Sounds healthy.”
A knock on the door echoes loudly on the small room, startling Dick. He glares at Jason snickering at his side, and calls, “we’re in here!”
The door swings open silently for once, revealing Tim still on the frankly way too coffee-stained sweatpants he found earlier in the cave and a baggy NASA shirt. Specifically, a NASA shirt that belongs to Dick. A NASA shirt he distinctly remembers going missing years ago. And when he says years, he means before Tim had even stepped inside the Manor. Which means–
“Oh my god, you little shit,” Jason is saying accusingly to Tim, “that shirt is mine!”
Dick hadn’t been doing anything at the moment, but he screeches to a halt all the same. In spirit, if you will.
“No way,” Tim crosses his arms, “I’ve had this shirt since forever.”
“Fuck off, Replacement,” Jason points a threatening finger, “I remember tearing that hole trying to climb down the window.”
“How dare you,” Dick finally gets his voice back, whirls on Jason, “how dare you, you hypocrite lying liar who lies.”
Jason gapes. “What the fuck.”
“That shirt was mine and you know it,” he can’t believe this. No, no, actually, he can. Easily. “I distinctly remember asking you if you’ve seen it, and then you looked me in the eyes and said I don’t know, I ain’t your housekeeper. And then you flipped me off.”
To be fair, Dick mostly remembered that day because it had been one of the few times he had been visiting the Manor before Jason, you know. Passed away. So yeah, he remembered it.
Now, though, seeing his shirt going from thief to thief, Dick isn’t feeling too charitable, death or no death.
He realizes Jason had gone quiet, looking as if trying to recall the incident. “I don’t really remember,” his brother finally says, “but it does sound like something I would do.”
“Oh my god, I hate you.”
“I mean,” Jason raises one of his hands up in a placating gesture, the other still cradling his stupid rocket launcher, “it’s not like you’re my favorite person either, Dickhead. ‘Sides, I wasn’t the only asshole back then.”
Shame and guilt rise in tandem, swallowing his gut in acid. Jason’s right. Dick has no right to sit here and call him out on being a jerk, not when he’d been just as guilty. He had been so caught up–
“Can we please skip the guilt trips?” Tim asks tiredly, “it’s almost four in the morning and your argument is moot anyway. The shirt is mine.”
It’s a testament for how tired he is that Dick doesn’t immediately restrains Jason when he goes silent. And, to be perfectly honest, that shirt is not freaking his.
“Jason, put the rocket launcher down,” Tim continues, unfazed, or maybe reaching the apathetic stages of lack of sleep, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”
*
“Why does everyone think I don’t sleep!” Tim glares at the ceiling, shifting so he can stretch on the bed more comfortably and kick Dick on the side, “I do sleep! All the time!”
“I don’t know,” Jason shrugs, wincing. He hides it well, but now that Bruce is paying more attention, Jason is leaning rather stiffly against his rocket launcher, standing as still as possible without being too obvious about it. Bruce sighs, he should’ve suspected; Jason has always been one to hide injuries. “Never seen it. Methinks the lady doth bullshits too much.”
“Jason,” Bruce begins cautiously, he doesn’t want to spook him. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”
It’s the wrong choice of words, it comes out more accusing than he intended, and Bruce can see Jason shutting down, face going blank. “I’m not hurt. And it wouldn’t be any of your business if I were anyway.”
Dick is giving him a sad, disappointed look. Completely unnecessary, Bruce knows he screwed this up. It seems to be a pattern when it comes to Jason. “If you sprained your ankle, there’s a perfectly good bed for you to sit.”
“Oh yeah? Good thing I ain’t hurt then.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Bruce sees Dick burying his head in his hands, ice pack forgotten beside him on the bed, already melting and soaking the covers.
“Jason,” Bruce tries again, taking a moment to find a better way to phrase it.
Before he can say anything else, Tim kicks the rocket launcher, forcing Jason to put his weight on both legs to regain his balance. He curses loudly, clutching the bedside table to stay upright, and glares at his brother. Dick still refuses to look up.
“Get on the damn bed, idiot,” Tim scoots over, making space, and pushes Dick further down to the foot of the bed, “you know Alfred will have our heads if he finds out you were standing on that ankle.”
Jason grumbles and huffs, but climbs on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re such an asshole, Replacement. This entire fucking family, I swear to god. All assholes. Except Cass. And Duke. Probably because it hasn’t been long enough for them yet. Fucking assholes.”
“Language,” Tim elbows him, “now all of you, shush. It’s my turn.”
*
Tim watches them argue with little interest. This shirt had been down in the Cave when he found it and thus, by the unspoken laws of the Manor, had been fair play.
It’s his now and Jason and Dick can both cry him a river.
Honestly, it’s just a shirt. A remarkably comfortable one, sure, but just a shirt. Besides, NASA shirts are all the rage now. Walmart probably sells them at a reasonable price.
Tuning back in the conversation, Tim catches the tail end of Jason’s retort and the beginning of Dick’s knee-jerk reaction to all things before. Crushing guilty and vitriolic regret. And it’s always worse in times like these, when Jason isn’t trying to kill anyone, when it almost feels like family.
Either way, Tim should stop them before it inevitably spirals into a real fight. Which would be so not good in such a tiny room and with Jason holding a rocket launcher. “Can we please skip the guilt trips?” He pauses, resigned. “It’s nearly four in the morning. And it doesn’t even matter anyway. This shirt,” he points down at his own chest, “is mine.”
Jason falls silent, and that’s not a good thing, but Jason is also thankfully very, very predictable, so Tim simply raises one eyebrow, “Jason, put that damn thing away,” he yawns, unimpressed by the rocket launcher aimed at his face, “you know how Alfred feels about weapons upstairs.”
He grumbles, muttering under his breath, but lowers the ridiculous thing back on his lap. Dick looks vaguely ill, scooting away from the rocket launcher. Tim supposes that’s fair, although he doubts it’s loaded. For a brief moment he entertains the idea of calling Jason’s bluff, but dismisses it in the end. Dick would probably have a stroke.
On that note, “how did you get a black eye?”
“Oh shit,” he raises a hand to gingerly touch the rapidly bruising skin, wincing, “is it that bad?”
“Yup.” Tim pauses, decides he doesn’t want to know, “now, are you two getting out today or…”
Dick and Jason scramble up, dusting themselves off. Cobwebs stick to their clothes, and something runs from where they had been sitting– Tim wrinkles his nose, figures it’s better not to mention it.
“How the two of you managed to break the doorknob is beyond me,” he comments as they pass him, “but somehow, I’m not surprised.”
“Whatever you say, Replacement,” Jason waves him off, stretching, “but damn, it’s good to be free.”
“You know what’s gonna be even better?” Dick asks, his question trailing off in a yawn, “sleeping in a real bed.”
“Shit, did you hear that?” Jason stops mid stretch, frowning, “shit, shit, someone’s coming.”
They all look at each other panicked. Tim doesn’t even know why he’s panicking, he’s done nothing wrong here besides letting himself be talked into helping these two morons out. Which he now sees was a terrible mistake, worse even, a rookie mistake. But maybe it’s being awake at 4am wandering an empty hallway that gives off this feeling, like he’s doing something he’s not supposed to do. It reminds him a little of the times he snuck out of his parent’s house after lights out to shadow Batman and Robin around.
Or maybe it’s the fact Jason is still carrying around the damn rocket launcher like a newborn baby. That definitely would count as a bad thing on Bruce’s point of view. And no matter what they might say, the man would certainly write Tim and Dick off as accessories to the crime. Well, they did learn of the crime after it was committed and they are kind of aiding the criminal in scaping.
Sighing, Tim lets himself be dragged back to the broom closet by a frantic Dick. He adds helping the criminal conceal the crime to the list. The door closes with a soft click just as the footsteps get closer. Whoever it is, probably Bruce by the heavy steps, turns the corner, and then walks past them. Somewhere still uncomfortably near, a door opens, then closes.
“He’s in the study,” Dick sobs, “and we’re stuck here again.”
“We’re never getting out of here,” Jason says, sitting down again, “one day Alfred will finally come clean here and find our decomposed bodies.”
“Gross,” Tim wrinkles his nose at the mental image, “come on. Let’s just pick the lock.”
“No!” They whisper-shout at the same time.
“What the fuck.”
“It’s booby-trapped,” says Jason.
“There’s silent alarms,” says Dick.
Oh right, all of his brothers are paranoid lunatics at heart, how could Tim have ever forgotten that. “This place looks like nobody used it since before either of us were born. Why, oh why, would B put it under surveillance?”
Silence. Jason hugs his rocket launcher closer, sharing a look with Dick. Great, and they’re a united front now. “Listen, fine. You don’t wanna pick the lock. Fine.” It’s always best not to contradict a crazy person, let alone two. “What do you suggest, then?”
“Living off spiders.”
“Call Damian.”
“One, gross. Two, I’d literally rather die.” He begins, “three, you all are useless to me.”
They need a plan, and they need it fast. Before one of those two finish spiraling into cabin fever. Looking around, Tim tries to think of it as any other mission. There’s a small window in the on the right wall, probably connecting to the adjacent room, which Tim thinks might be a bedroom. It was probably a leftover of some old renovation, it might’ve led outside once upon a time, but now it’s likely their only way out. It’s very small, Tim might go through it with little problem, Dick too, but Jason is too broad shouldered, he might get stuck. If only they could remove all the bars, it could give them just enough space.
Okay. They have an exit. All they need is way to get up there and the tools to deal with the bars. He turns to his brothers, “I think I can get us out. There’s a window behind that shelf.” He points at the glass visible between two boxes, “but I need some sort of ladder and a tool box.”
Apparently the prospect of a real plan is enough to shake them out of their stupor. Jason jumps to his feet, begins rummaging through the scattered boxes. Dick busies himself with pushing the shelf out of the way, clearing the path to the window. Satisfied, Tim begins digging inside the nearest box in search of anything useful.
By the time Dick manages to push the shelf out of the way, Jason has found a hammer and a phillips screwdriver. He did find a crowbar too, but that was quickly discarded and buried under a pile of old books. Deciding the boxes are sturdy enough, hopefully, to hold their weight, Tim piles them up in the best makeshift stairs he can make.
Is it wobbly? Yes. Are they going to fall and break their necks? Probably. But better be dead than ask Damian for help. The little demon would never let him live it down for the rest of their lives and probably in the afterlife too.
Once again tuning out his brothers, Tim begins the quickly climbing up the boxes. It’s more stable than he expected, so he starts unscrewing the metal bars–
*
“Of course it was stable!” Dick exclaims, throwing his hands up and then falling down on the bed, “we were holding it in place!”
“You weren’t even listening to us, you ungrateful–”
“I got us out, didn’t I?” Tim snaps, “god, everyone’s a critic. Can I go back to the story, please? I’d like to finish telling it before sunrise.”
“God, yes, please.”
*
Anyway.
The metal bars and the stained glass panels fall apart easily, as expected from such old, unused things. The space left looks wide enough to let them through, maybe. If they’re lucky. “Okay, I’m already up here, so let me go first.”
“Wait–”
Tim doesn’t wait. He hoists himself up, diving face first through the window. It gets him a mouthful of dust and sand, and then he’s free falling–
There’s a second of panic, in between falling and landing, where Tim recognizes waiting might’ve been a wiser course of action and that maybe he should have looked before jumping.
–right into a bed.
He had been right. It did lead to an old bedroom. The bed was covered in sheets, just like the rest of the furnitures, but it works to break the fall, even if a cloud of dust rises in the air when he lands, coating his lungs with filth.
Laughter bubbles up, a little hysterical, a little relieved.
“Are you okay?” Dick’s head appears through the hole, “are you hurt?”
“My wrist hurts a little, I think I sprained it when I tried to break the fall,” Tim shrugs, rolling off the bed, “but I’m fine, really.”
“Hold on, I’m coming through.”
Dick falls with a huff, his breath knocked out of him in the landing. He groans, “shit, that’s gonna bruise.”
“Cool, you’ll get a matching set,” Tim gestures his black eye, “but you might wanna make space, it sounds like Jason is on his way.”
And true enough, as soon as he had forced himself out of the bed and limped away towards Tim, a rocket launcher lands on the bed with a heavy thud, and then Jason appears. Although only half of him makes it through. He dangles, arms swinging uselessly, stuck in the window. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously?”
“Oh my god,” Tim wheezes, “tell me someone has a camera.”
“I feel so much better already,” Dick giggles.
“Oh come on,” Jason snaps, flipping them off with both hands, “a little help here? Assholes.”
To be fair, it only takes a little wiggling and a little pulling to get him out of there and into the dusty bed. By now the air is more dust bunnies and promises of allergies.
“Tell me it’s over now,” Jason says, then changes his mind, “no, no, no. No one say anything, it might jinx it.”
“Please leave,” Tim tells him, “you have an apartment, I know you do. Please.”
“Are you kicking me out, Replacement? Really?”
“You just put me through the most traumatic hour of my life and I don’t even know why. So yes, please.”
“What he means,” Dick intervenes, “is that–”
“All of you have a lot of explaining to do.” In the now open doorway, Bruce stands, looking like your regular angry father if your regular angry father was the Batman.
“Oh crap,” Jason says, and Tim wholeheartedly agrees.
*
“And the rest is history,” Tim says, yawning, and then turning to Jason, “I can’t believe all of this was because of your stupid rocket launcher.”
“Excuse me,” Jason sounds affronted, “Roxy has emotional value.”
“Your unhealthy attachment to that thing gave me a sprained wrist so excuse me for being a little salty.”
“Can you guys not fight for ten seconds, please,” Dick, in turn, sounds tired.
“I don’t think I need to say in how much trouble all of you are, do I?” Bruce finally says, gathering the attention of the three. He glances at his watch, it’s nearing five in the morning, then back up at the bed. Jason is laying with his leg propped up in a pillow, looking harried and tired and less antagonistic than before, Tim is at his side, curled up around a pillow and his injured wrist carefully cradled on his chest, and the story seems to have drained the last of his energy, as his eyes close for longer and longer periods of time. Dick is sprawled at the foot of the bed, laying sideways and currently wrestling a pillow out Jason’s grip.
Bruce looks at the scene in front of him, three of his children together at peace, or the closest thing to it they’ll ever get, and something inside him softens. Seeing them like this, getting along, no trace of masks or capes, it feels almost like a normal family.
It feels warm and golden.
Unwilling to disturb the fragile peace, he gets up from the armchair, heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” Dick, the more awake of them, asks, “aren’t you gonna yell at us?”
“As I said, you all know you are in trouble,” Bruce answers calmly, “but there’s going to be time for that tomorrow, at a more reasonable hour.” He suppresses a smile, “I am going to retrieve some blankets. It looks like you’re not going back to your rooms tonight.”
Dick looks around him, finding Tim already asleep and Jason yawning. He smiles, “you might be right. Thanks, B.”
Bruce nods, but as he leaves the room, a thought suddenly occurs to him, “oh, and Dick?”
A sleepy noise comes from the bed.
“You were all wrong.” Another inquisitive muttering, a little more awake now. “That shirt? It used to be mine. It was a special edition, confectioned after the moon-landing. You stole it from me.”
Shaking his head, Bruce prepares to leave, but a voice stops him just before the door closes, “I know, but you know the rules. If it’s down the Cave, it’s fair play.”
Laughter echoes quietly in the hallways at the Manor, bouncing off the walls and filling all the empty spaces.
*
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Gimme all those self ship asks w Roy and Zen pls XD
Heyyy look what I finally had the energy to finish!!! XD 💖
Roy
Aloe: How protective is your f/o? Are theyoverprotective? Possessive? Or do they trust you to handle yourself all thetime?
Roy knows I can hold my own, I am a state alchemist afterall, but he still gets protective. In a fight, we usually stick close to eachother and work well together. Roy is also rather possessive and gets testy ifsomeone tries to flirt with me right in front of him.
Amaryllis: How long does it take your F/O to apologize and admitthey were wrong after an argument, if at all? How do they make it up to you?
Roy can be a bit stubborn and childish when he’s wrong so hedoesn’t usually apologize right away. When he does though, it’s with flowers ormy favorite dinner. He’ll sort of pout a little when he’s actually apologizing.
Carnation, pink: Do you have any fankids with your F/O? Ifso, tell us a bit about them.
No kids here.
Clover, white: How much does your F/O call/text/etc you when you’reapart?
All. The. Time. Honestly, he is as bad as Maes when it comesto calling me. I felt so bad for Rizawhen he was transferred to Central a few weeks before me, it was the longestand furthest we’d been apart since we started dating. Eventually she startedholding his phone hostage, of course Roy’s response was to go on walks and callme via pay phone.
Chamomile: How does your F/O act when you come home from a longtrip?
Roy is absolutely giddy, swinging me around and kissing me.He made a bit of a scene when he picked me up at the station after I wastransferred to Central. He just could not wait to show me the place he’d pickedout for us and you know, get …reacquainted. >///>
Daffodil: How often does your F/O tease you? And how do they do it?
We are always teasing each other! Roy makes a lot of waterpuns and jabs at my height.
Fennel: How much of a pushover is your F/O when you ask them to dosomething for you?
He likes to act tough, but he can’t say no to me. Especiallyif I start pouting.
Hyacinth, purple: How easily does your F/O forgive you after anargument?
Roy is quicker to forgive than he is to offer an apologyhimself. We both hate fighting andrefuse to go to bed angry.
Lilac: Who is the designated driver?
ME. Oh lord, have you seen Roy drive? It’s terrifying. Iwill literally push him out of the driver’s seat, I would like to live to seetomorrow thank you.
Lavender: How do you two do during formal occasions? Do you have toreign in your F/O’s temper? Or do they make sure to hold your hand so you don’tget anxious? Maybe you two rock the dancefloor?
I get a little nervous being around all those big wigs andsuch, but Roy always stays right by my side. He jokes and flirts with me a lot,and if I get too anxious he’ll pull me out on the dancefloor.
Parsley: How do you two do at informal parties? Who gets wasted? Whotries to drag the other into one of the broom closets?
We have a lot of fun, but I’m usually the first one toreally start feeling the alcohol. I’m a lightweight and enjoy cocktails, adangerous combination. Roy’s not so much one for pulling me into a closet,he’s more likely to try and convince me to leave early so he can have me all tohimself.
Rhododendron: How does your F/O act after you’ve been injured/you’ve putyourself into a dangerous situation?
Roy is at my side as soon as he can, trying to get me awayfrom the danger. If I put myself in harm’s way, he’s more, not disappointed butupset I guess you could say. He’ll lecture me about making my own safety ahigher priority, that I don’t have to face the world alone anymore.
Sage: Does your F/O ever come to you for advice? Or are they tooprideful?
He does, though not always right away. Roy likes to keep hishand hidden, so to speak, but he values my opinion. He knows we have differentways of looking at things, especially since he’s spent so much longer in themilitary, so it can help to have a new point of view at a situation.
Sorrel: What level of PDA has been agreed upon as acceptable between thetwo of you? Does your F/O try and push those boundaries?
Neither of us are very comfortable with anything more thanhugging and some kissing in front of others. Now if we’ve been drinking, Roymay try to take things a bit farther like making out, though I wouldn’t reallystop him unless someone called attention to us.
Tulip, Red: How does your F/O confess to you?
All of Mustang unit went out for dinner one night and Royinsisted on walking me home cause it was late. He lent me his coat but forgotto take it back when we got to my apartment. So I ran down to return it to him,he then kissed me on the cheek suggesting we have dinner again sometime but “nexttime just the two of us.”
Zen
Aloe: How protective is your f/o? Are theyoverprotective? Possessive? Or do they trust you to handle yourself all thetime?
Zen is very protective and very possessive. When I first methis coworkers, one of them started hitting on me and it was nearly a fiasco. Ihad to stop him from kicking the guy’s ass when he put his hand on my shoulder.
Amaryllis: How long does it take your F/O to apologize and admitthey were wrong after an argument, if at all? How do they make it up to you?
He is very quick to apologize with me. We can’t stand beingmad at each other. He’ll admit he was wrong or work to correct whatever weargued over. He’ll make dinner that night and give me lots of attention.
Carnation, pink: Do you have any fankids with your F/O? Ifso, tell us a bit about them.
Nope. Well, not right now >.>
Clover, white: How much does your F/O call/text/etc you when you’reapart?
Constant. We are practically glued to our phones eithercalling or texting each other. Jumin is practically begging Seven to block usfrom the chat room so he doesn’t have to see it.
Chamomile: How does your F/O act when you come home from a longtrip?
Like he hasn’t seen me in a year. He’s immediately pullingme into his arms and kissing all over my face.
Daffodil: How often does your F/O tease you? And how do they do it?
Not much at all, he much prefers to shower me in complimentsand affection. Though he will occasionally tease me about my size or aboutbeing naughty if I make a comment about one of his selfies.
Fennel: How much of a pushover is your F/O when you ask them to dosomething for you?
Total pushover, not that I take advantage of it. I firstrealized he was when Jumin offered him a role in one of his cat commercials, Ijokingly asked Zen to meow and he freaking did it. I was shocked.
Hyacinth, purple: How easily does your F/O forgive you after an argument?
He forgives fairly easily, he has a hard time staying mad atme when I’m apologizing in tears. I’m not trying to influence him, I’m just overlysensitive and quick to cry.
Lilac: Who is the designated driver?
Zen, I will not drive his motorcycle. XD
Lavender: How do you two do during formal occasions? Do you have toreign in your F/O’s temper? Or do they make sure to hold your hand so you don’tget anxious? Maybe you two rock the dancefloor?
I’m the one holding Zen’s hand and not from nerves, I lovehim but he’s very quick to jealousy. We don’t really have time for dancing asthere’s always someone waiting to speak with Zen.
Parsley: How do you two do at informal parties? Who gets wasted? Whotries to drag the other into one of the broom closets?
We love informal parties! Neither of us get wasted, but tipsy?Yes. And Zen is constantly pulling me into his lap and whispering in my earabout how we should slip away while everyone is distracted.
Rhododendron: How does your F/O act after you’ve been injured/you’ve putyourself into a dangerous situation?
Zen will scold me a bit if I hurt myself, but he’s much moreconcerned with taking care of me. I have a tendency to sprain my ankles andeven though it usually only bothers me for the first hour or so, Zen is alwayswrapping up my ankle and propping it up. I’ve told him again and again my anklesheal as quick as any injury of his, but he doesn’t listen.
Sage: Does your F/O ever come to you for advice? Or are they tooprideful?
He does, we talk about everything. Whenever Zen isn’t surewhat to do, he comes straight to me just as I go to him.
Sorrel: What level of PDA has been agreed upon as acceptable between thetwo of you? Does your F/O try and push those boundaries?
We usually don’t do more than holding hands, holding eachother, and the occasional kiss. As much as we’d both like to be moreaffectionate, we know we have to save that for home.
Tulip, Red: How does your F/O confess to you?
Honestly, I can’t remember when it was exactly. We were bothflirting so much over the chat and everything happened so fast. One day neitherof us had any idea who the other was and next thing we knew, we couldn’timagine going to bed without hearing each other’s voice. The first time he saidhe loved me was over the phone and I was kind of glad, if he’d said it in personthe first time, I think I might have spontaneously combusted.
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