#This got way longer than I expected

[arcanacenturia]

GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS

Something's so not right in S2 though.

The only time we "see" God is whenever she talks to Job and just blabbers stuff at him because she's bored af and doesn't have anybody to speak with except maybe the Metatron.

When Aziraphale tries to talk directly to God in S1, the Metatron tells him "Speaking to me is speaking to God" and categorically refuses to listen to Aziraphale's request.

That's weird. That's so weird.

We have no proof that he's actually relaying all this information to God. She hasn't appeared to anyone in centuries. He's also aware of Aziraphale's will to stop the arma-fucking-geddon.

He's aware of Azi's relation to Crowley.

As I've seen stated somewhere on Tumblr earlier, he's aware that just by trying to perform a teeny tiny miracle together they performed a huge ass one that triggered alarms in Heaven and succeeded in separating the two, because he's aware, and could be scared, of their combined powers.

Okay but why would he need to separate them?

A second too late, he told Aziraphale about The Second Coming, which is most likely linked to a new Armageddon again.

Related to that, we never heard God herself about the destruction of earth. Anything said about it is told by other characters. Note to myself: list up who talked about it.

The Metatron seems to be hiding something. Unlike the other (arch-)angels he's not naïve, he wears a black coat, he doesn't sugarcoat his speech to humans (and my synesthesia says he speaks Spiky, and not a good spiky).

I think it's also noteworthy that Crowley & Aziraphale don't communicate, not with words, Crowley never told Aziraphale about what Gabriel told him but he also never told Aziraphale what he found out about Gabriel in S2. He never told Aziraphale that his bosses were planning to restart Armageddon until Gabriel went Nah, that it's the reason the Metatron demoted him. He demoted the current Prince of Heaven for stopping it, then promoted Aziraphale, who is a lot more tame and also has been a cause of Armagenope to fail, to lead it.

I don't think Crowley fell because he asked questions to God. I think he sauntered vaguely downwards because he asked too many questions to the Metatron, that would put his plan in danger.

This bitch is SHADY AS FUCK and I'm honestly so eager, so curious to see what he (and season 3) is going to bring us. I wonder if he's lived among the humans, too. Besides, I feel like he's going to try (and maybe manage) and use Azi as his marionnette for whatever stuff he's preparing.

And I feel whatever he's preparing is really against God.

Thank you Neil Gaiman for this ending because even if it HURTS it's so interesting. There are so many things that could be going on behind the heartbreak. I could be going on about how Crowley probably even found out part of what happened. I've seen people speculate with good arguments that Crowley lost part of his memory after falling, and if it is the case that could be another thing done to prevent Crowley from stopping the Metatron.

There is SO MUCH that could be, so much that WILL be, and so little that we can know.

No matter in what form, I'm so excited to see how this will develop in the future.

[myhyperfixatedmess]

Serpentine. Pt 2

Tom isn't so certain anymore, which only makes things worse.

Word count:3.4k

Content warning: None that I am aware of.

Pt. I

It seemed Tom's mission to get answers had taken an unexpected turn, beginning sooner than he anticipated. As he entered the common room, he was taken aback to find you engaged in an animated conversation with some of his acquaintances. A mixture of surprise and uncertainty washed over him, leaving his eyebrows furrowed and his body momentarily frozen.

Tom observed the scene in front of him, silently contemplating the implications of this unexpected encounter. He knew his deep-seated hatred for you had been evident to those around him, including Avery, who now locked eyes with him, a flicker of fear dancing in his gaze. 

It was understandable for Avery to feel apprehensive, considering the consequences they could face for being in your presence, given Tom's previous animosity towards you. However, things had changed, even if Tom hated to admit it. This unforeseen circumstance presented a unique opportunity—one he couldn't ignore.

With a calculated shift in his demeanor, Tom made a decision. He would leverage this situation to gain the answers he desperately sought. It was a chance to bridge the gap between his festering resentment and the curiosity that had begun to bloom within him.Taking a deep breath, Tom approached the group, suppressing the remnants of his disdain. He wore a carefully constructed mask of indifference, concealing the internal turmoil that churned beneath the surface. As he joined the conversation, his words were measured, his tone guarded. 

"Clarence, Abraxas, Orion," he addressed the boys surrounding you, causing a collective tension to ripple through their bodies. It was an expected reaction, and you, of course, remained unfazed. A serene smile graced your lips, your gaze steady and unyielding as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Tom couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation as he watched you, his jaw clenching with the intensity of his simmering hatred. He fought against the impulse to let his anger consume him, knowing all too well that it would only hinder his objectives. With a calculated restraint, he nodded in your direction, his voice carrying a curt formality, "And hello to you as well."

The sudden acknowledgment of your presence caught everyone off guard, including Tom himself. The room fell into a momentary silence, as if time itself had momentarily paused to witness this unexpected exchange. Tom's eyes remained fixed on you, scrutinizing your every movement, your every gesture. He detected no hint of vulnerability or discomfort in your demeanor, and that only served to further fuel his resentment.

As the weight of the unspoken tension settled upon the room, Tom made a conscious effort to regain control. He straightened his posture and composed himself, a cold resolve settling over him like a shroud. Deep down, he knew that engaging with you would disrupt the carefully crafted walls he had built, yet he couldn't resist the magnetic pull that compelled him to address you in that moment.

Though the others exchanged bewildered glances, Tom was resolute in his decision. He would face you head-on, determined to navigate the treacherous terrain of his emotions. In that fleeting acknowledgment, a subtle shift occurred, challenging the established dynamics and setting the stage for an unforeseen journey—one that would force Tom to confront the depths of his own conflicted feelings.

Your smile widened at Tom's greeting, a glimmer of amusement dancing in your eyes. Perhaps you had indeed noticed his simmering hatred towards you, or maybe you were genuinely surprised by his acknowledgment. Tom couldn't quite decipher your true feelings, and that in itself was a source of vexation. While he had a knack for reading people like open books, you remained an enigma—a locked tome with secrets he couldn't pry open, no matter how hard he tried.

"Hello, Tom," you spoke, your voice dripping with sweetness that could almost be sickening to some. Your words seemed to have an almost hypnotic effect, and Tom felt a strange sensation stir in his stomach as his heart rate quickened. He couldn't quite explain the odd fluttering feeling that you seemed to evoke within him.

Shaking off the unexpected reaction, Tom's eyes darted to one of your hands, which he suddenly noticed was placed firmly on Malfoy's arm. The sight brought him back to his senses, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. What business did you have being so physically close to Malfoy? The notion bothered him more than he cared to admit.

As Tom tried to regain his composure, the realization hit him that he had been acting strangely around you for some time now. It was disconcerting to find himself affected by your presence in ways he couldn't comprehend. But then again, he was no stranger to feeling out of sorts, especially when it came to matters involving you.

Pushing aside his internal turmoil, Tom questioned your presence among his "friends." He found it hard to believe that you had any genuine friendship with them, and the idea of you casually chatting with them unsettled him. However, he was quick to remind himself that it no longer mattered. He had his own objectives and didn't need to concern himself with your interactions.

"Shall we go to dinner?" Tom suggested, attempting to appear unaffected by the situation. He knew his followers were probably shocked by his behavior, but he couldn't bring himself to care about their opinions. What mattered now was understanding the complexities of his emotions, even if that meant appearing out of character to those around him.

Your eyes brightened at the suggestion, and your smile remained as radiant as ever. Tom couldn't help but notice the trepidation in the other boys' expressions, seemingly unsure of what was happening between the two of you. In all honesty, Tom didn't know what was happening either, but he was resolute in seeking the answers.

You stood gracefully from your chair, your composure unwavering as you turned to address the other boys.

 "Let's go then," you said with genuine enthusiasm. Your readiness to embrace the situation both surprised and intrigued Tom.

As the group made their way towards the Great hall, Tom's mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He knew he had to tread carefully, for he was stepping into unknown territory—one where his mind was in disarray and the line between loathing and fascination blurred. It was a dangerous path he was traversing, one that held the potential to alter the very fabric of his existence.

But for now, he would focus on the present, on this peculiar situation with you, and on the unraveling problem that was slowly consuming his thoughts and emotions.

-

Tom was certain he was losing it.

He was watching you laugh at something your friend had said, throwing your head back and lightly hitting them for whatever the comment had been. His followers were talking about something, pondering when the next meeting would be, he was pretty sure.

 However his focus had long drifted from the topic and was now placed upon you. He felt a mixture of envy and anger when he saw your male friend, a muggle-born no less, reaching out to fix something in your hair. The intensity of his feelings surprised him; for once the burning  hatred wasn't aimed at you. But at the scum who had the audacity to touch you.

Tom's thoughts were threatening to swallow him whole.

Why was he touching you? Why were you letting him touch you? And why did Tom care so much?

 You weren't his responsibility; he had no reason to care about you beyond your status. Yet there was an inexplicable pull towards you and, despite his attempts to deny it, he felt responsible for you. He didn't understand why or how this happened, but he felt compelled to be around you, despite what it could cost him

Oh how he wished he was just ill, at least then there'd be a cure and a reason.

Instead, it seemed, he was terminally obsessed with you. With no cure and no reason.

And Tom was deathly afraid of what that could mean.

-

You had invited him to study with you.

He should've said no, but the look in your eyes and the urge to discern the way he's been feeling had him saying yes. 

And the way your eyes lit up had him reveling in the fact he had. 

Just what exactly had you done to him?

So, now the two of you were studying in a quiet corner of the library. You were flipping through a runes book and he was watching you do so. His own book lay forgotten on his lap. It truly was a miracle you hadn't noticed his unrelenting gaze, but then again you seemed rather entranced.

If anyone saw the way he was looking at you, they'd probably say the same about him.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined you intently. His mind was preoccupied with a million and one questions, each vying to dominate his attention. It was difficult to keep them in check as he struggled with what to make of this situation, but he forced himself to remain calm.

You suddenly looked up and Tom's eyes flew off your figure, determined to hide his previous staring. You didn't mention it though as you glanced at him, and he pretended to only then look up from his book and meet your eyes. 

"Do you know where I could find that book on advanced runes, Professor had mentioned? This ones not very useful," You laughed lightly, tilting the now closed book in his direction. His mouth went dry again, and he nodded. Pointing in the direction of the shelf he was sure the book would be, before speaking.

"You should find it under "M ''," Tom said and you beamed, wasting no time in getting up and waltzing over to where he'd pointed. Scouring the shelves and running your fingertips over the spins of certain books.

Tom felt his heart pounding in his chest as he saw you find the book then proceed to struggle with obtaining it. Without thinking, he was already beside you, his hand extending to retrieve the book for you. As you turned around with a grateful smile, his breath caught in his throat, realizing how close you were.

Your innocent gaze and the genuine warmth in your smile overwhelmed him. He found himself lost in the depths of your eyes, and all rational thoughts seemed to vanish. In that moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of you.

Kiss them.

The intrusive thought echoed in his mind, shocking him back to reality. He tried to dismiss it, to convince himself it wasn't his own desire. He couldn't afford to be vulnerable, to let his emotions take control. Yet, the more he resisted, the more the temptation grew.

He wouldn't kiss you, he couldn't kiss you. He wasn't going to give in, he wasn't going to show weakness and he definitely wasn't going to—

.

.

.

He kissed you.

Time seemed to stand still as the world around him blurred into insignificance. The softness of your lips against his sent a rush of emotions through him. It was both thrilling and terrifying, like dancing on the edge of a precipice.

For a fleeting moment, he forgot about the darkness within him, his ambitions, and the path he had chosen. In that kiss, he felt a connection he had never experienced before. It was as if the walls he had built around himself were crumbling, and for once, he allowed himself to be vulnerable.

But as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Tom stepped back, his expression a mixture of surprise and fear. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened and how he had let himself succumb to such weakness.

Regret washed over him, and he turned away, unable to face you. The conflicting emotions inside him continued to rage, leaving him more uncertain about himself than ever before. That impulsive moment had laid bare a part of him he hadn't even known existed, and he was terrified of the implications it held

"Tom?" You called out to him, but something was off, you sounded so sad. He turned back around to look you in the eyes. You looked so sad. Why? Why were you sad? What was wrong with–

Oh.

It was him.

He's what was wrong.

"I apologize for taking advantage of our proximity, I do not know what came over me," Tom spoke, reverting to the cold, calm and detached persona he was more comfortable with. He watched your eyes widen at his words.

"No, Tom, that's not–"

Tom shook his head, cutting you off before any of your protests could escape. 

"There is no need to continue." He was already moving toward the door, his mind focused on nothing but escaping the library and finding somewhere else for him to be. He didn't exactly know where he was going, he just had to get away from you.

He heard you softly call out to him once more, but he continued walking, unable to face the emotions stirring inside him.

-

When he finally returned to his room, confusion and regret overwhelmed him. There was a knot in his stomach, making him feel queasy. How could he have let that moment happen? It was a mistake he knew he shouldn't have made.

But he did.

Tom's head throbbed intensely, each heartbeat pounding against his skull like a hammer. His throat felt dry, no amount of swallowing could quench the parched feeling. He hadn't felt this drained in a long time. Weary and unsteady, he practically stumbled onto his bed.

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto the mattress, closing his eyes in an attempt to escape the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. Sleep enveloped him, providing a temporary respite from the turmoil.

He prayed he wouldn't dream of you.

-

The next day brought an unexpected encounter. You stood in front of him, appearing nervous and maybe even a bit guilty, though he couldn't fathom why. It was him who had acted out of line.

Your presence perplexed him, and he wondered what troubled your mind so profoundly.

He hoped it wasn't because of him.

You fidgeted with your tie, and your eyes kept darting between him and the floor, searching for the right words. Tom observed you, contemplating your intentions. Were you here to reprimand him for his behavior? Or perhaps to humiliate him? In his experience, those who tried usually regretted it, but he couldn't discount the possibility that people would believe anything coming from you. Tom was pretty certain that in everyone's mind, you were the female version of him. Which, he didn't like, because it was just so far from the truth, you were nothing like him.

The crimson red that stained his hands would never dare taint yours.

"Can we talk about yesterday?" you finally asked, breaking the silence. He frowned, reluctant to delve into that painful subject. He didn't want to discuss yesterday, as if it would somehow make things better.

"Why do you wish to discuss yesterday?" he inquired, a hint of detachment in his voice.

"Are you serious?" Your expression fell, and Tom couldn't decipher if you were mocking him or genuinely upset.

"Why do you seem so insistent upon making this a conversation? Are you that intent on berating me?" he questioned, the tension between you palpable.

"Of course not, Tom! I just want to talk, please," you pleaded. Tom noticed the desperation in your eyes, which softened his resolve. He knew he couldn't remain in that place of distance forever.

"Very well," he acquiesced, gesturing for you to sit beside him. As you took the seat, he noticed how your gaze remained fixed on him, silently assessing him.

He wanted to run away from you, from everyone connected to you. But a part of him also yearned to reach out and feel your presence once again.

"So..." you began, and he turned his attention to you.

"You kissed me," you said, and Tom felt himself freeze, as though bound by a spell.

"That's right," he replied simply, his emotions kept in check. His questioning gaze encouraged you to continue.

"Well...why?" you asked, and he found himself struggling to articulate an answer.

His brow furrowed as he tried to find the words. He had thought about it before, trying to understand why he acted on his feelings, why he didn't resist the temptation. But at that moment, he couldn't find a satisfactory explanation.

"...I...I do not know," Tom admitted with uncertainty.

"Do you regret kissing me?" Your question made his shoulders tense.

Did he regret it? Of course, he did. Regret filled him every moment after that kiss. But the kiss itself, the act of it, he couldn't bring himself to regret that.

"I suppose… I do not," he finally managed to say. It was true; he didn't regret the kiss itself, though he regretted how it played out and the turmoil it had caused.

"That's good," you smiled, even letting out a light laugh. Tom couldn't help but feel a bit relieved to see you happy.

"Pardon?" he raised an eyebrow, not quite grasping your response.

"Yeah! I mean the guy I like kisses me then runs off, I thought that felt bad. But it would've been soooo much worse had you regretted the whole thing," you explained, and Tom's heart skipped a beat.

What had you just said?

"You like me?" he whispered, the words hanging heavily in the air.

You smiled and nodded energetically, "Yep!"

Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he couldn't believe the warmth that spread through him at your admission. He was both elated and terrified at the thought of what this revelation could mean.

"Oh," was all he managed to say, but he could see your disappointment. He quickly attempted to clarify his reaction, feeling the need to salvage the situation.

"Wait, that is not- I was not trying to..." he stumbled over his words, but you just giggled.

"You know what, I give up," he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He allowed himself to get lost in the sound of your laughter, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't quite understand.

"It is not funny," he murmured when you stopped laughing, but you only smiled at him.

"Sorry…"

"You do not need to apologize," Tom said quietly, shaking his head.

As you both sat in silence, looking out at the black lake, he couldn't help but feel that everything was so messed up. Days ago, you were the last person he wanted to see, and now, having you there felt almost right.

But it couldn't be. He couldn't allow himself to feel this way.

He couldn't afford to let himself get attached to you.

But he wanted to so badly.

Tom felt you gently lean forward and press a soft kiss to his cheek. He felt himself stiffen momentarily before relaxing. A smile graced your features, and he allowed himself to bask in its radiance.

Tom refused to believe he deserved this, that he deserved you. He knew everything would eventually fall apart, everything would go back to the way it used to be. Back to when he hated you. Or atleast whatever cheap imitation of hate he convinced himself he felt for you.

And yet, here you were, willingly giving him a chance at happiness, despite knowing he didn't deserve it.

And although it felt unnatural, and unfamiliar, and uncomfortable, he wanted to embrace this change.

He really wanted to.

"Hey..." His voice surprised him, its softness unfamiliar.

"Hi.." You responded, a genuine smile lighting up your face.

"Would you, perhaps... like to attend the next Hogsmeade trip with me?" Tom's voice was hushed, as if he was unsure of his own words.

You, on the other hand, felt a spark of delight within you. Your smile grew wider, your eyes sparkling.

"Hmm, perhaps..." Your reply carried a playful tone, enjoying the moment.

"Oh, do not be coy," he said, his voice pretending to be stern, but the hint of a smile betrayed him.

"Alright, alright, I apologize," you laughed, the sound musical and infectious.

"I will accompany you to Hogsmeade, Tom," you finally agreed, and you could see the tension release from his posture. He licked his lips, turning his gaze away from you, mostly to mask the budding grin on his face.

"Brilliant."

Abruptly, the clamor of thoughts in his mind hushed. Inner turmoil gave way to an unusual serenity, and the torment subsided.

Casting another glance at you, a sense of alignment washed over him. Everything felt oddly harmonious.

For if you were a rose, then he'd be the thorns, drawing blood from all those who try to corrupt your beauty.

[captainbookamir]

You know what, I really don't get why the Nevermoor fandom appears to be so small. Sure, it's middle grade and a variation on chosen child portal fantasy (sort of, Morrigan goes from one secondary world to a hidden, more fantastical section of it and the chosen aspect is more a born gift that comes with an absolute boatload of downsides which I think it's great).

But I know at least 2-3 booktubers who also read the books and seemed just as ecstatic about it as I am. And they're honestly fantastic - like ok, the first book is just fine and gets the job done but Wundersmith and Hollowpox are so so good? It has an outcast protagonist with oodles of character and a morbid aesthetic, it has found family, it has diversity, it's about tolerance and social imbalance and the perception of history and the responsibilities and dangers of power, it's about friendship and mental trauma, it has a feeling of magic and wonder but it also acknowledges the darker sides and not just in the antagonists.

And yet, the fandom on here seems very small, there's only 228(!) fics on AO3, and 348 results on Wattpad.

I am confusion.

[ihatedean]

If you still want to do that ask game - 5, 9, 16

im always down for ask games :D

5. what made you start your blog?

dadrockenjoyer's influence frfr....

though really i was watching s12 and the show had gotten SO bad i needed an outlet to complain about it<3 the friend that got me into the show was stuck in S10(i think?) and i didn't want to spoil her. also i knew jack was coming and really wanted to document the progress of me falling in love w him

i was (and still am, a little bit) intimidated by the history of the wincest fandom and how talented everyone was. I'm used to small ships and that "built this from nothing" feeling that comes with making stuff for blorbos only 5 other people care about, so i didn't think whatever i could contribute with would be relevant in any way. as in. i didn't create this blog with a "oh i'll share all the stuff i've been working on with like-minded people! :D" mindset it was more an "i hate this so much but im obsessed with it so I can't let it rot inside"

(also my f1 blog has a completely different vibe compared to this one. this blog is kind of like my main where i dump everything + the 2014 "grunge" aesthetic blog i always dreamed of)

9. tell a story about your childhood

i don't really remember a lot of my childhood:3 mostly bad stuff.

also afaik i was a boringgg kid. i lived in a second floor in a neighborhood full of old people!! no backyard!! and i was too anxious to go out on the street to play and have something interesting happen to me lmao. most of my childhood consists of eating chalk and playing on the ps2

16. if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

physically? the shape of my face<3 round face + double chin is like my one and only insecurity i wish i could do something about. many parts of my face are so small that compared with these huge cheeks i've got i think i look a lil funny.

and like personality or whatever i wish i could keep the yapping to regular levels. im either oversharing like crazy or disappearing for three days:/ which is not a nice way to treat people. i try to avoid my phone when im manic because i can say SO much shit I'll regret. im also uhhh a bit of a bitch. i can get really really mean for absolutely no reason other than like a mild disagreement.

fun questions!!

[theysherobinbuckley]

(platonic) stobin modern stardew valley au <3

Robin has played stardew a few times before and always enjoyed it a lot, but she never got through year 2 before she either 1. forgot about the game for a six months and had to start over or 2. got so frustrated trying to plan out her farm layout that she rage quit

Steve has been badgering her about them not having enough shared hobbies. They're not always in the mood for a 48 race mario kart tournament and Steve just wants something chill they can do together

Cue Steve looking through all the games on Robin's console (a yellow switch lite with little pokeball thumb grips) and stumbling on stardew valley and being like oh hey i got this game for will for his birthday!

Robin's hesitant, tries to tell Steve that it's probably not really his speed, but he shows up the next day having watched 6+ hours of stardew playthroughs and downloaded the game onto his own console (OLED switch he bought mainly for the kids to use)

They name their farm Buckington Farm and immediately start sectioning off areas for different things. Robin is vaguely aware that they can raise sheep and rabbits but never got that far in game before. Steve learns this and decides that his main goal is to create a rabbit hutch

Steve can't go into the mines alone because he always forgets to bring food or medicine and gets his shit rocked every time. He's great at battling monsters and never misses a hit, but he absolutely beefs it in the mines if Robin isn't there to provide backup

Robin is a fucking beast at fishing. She never misses a fish. Steve is endlessly crafting bait for her to use and leaving it in her wooden chest as a little gift.

He's also in charge of collecting all the eggs/milk while Robin is taking care of the crops. Steve names their first chicken Steve Jr and it's his favorite chicken. He's extremely emotionally attached to their animals, which he's named after all the kids. Seeing "El/Lucas/Dustin is very happy today!" always makes him smile

They each have their favorite townspeople. Steve's best friends are Alex, Haley, Penny, Sam, and Lewis. Robin's favorites are Emily, Maru, Leah, Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian.

Robin is a little apprehensive about romancing any of the ladies because she doesn't want Steve to make fun of her taste and also Steve hasn't seemed really interested in doing that either, so is it weird if she does it? Oh god it's weird if she does it

Meanwhile Steve is giving every single townsperson a gift every day. He has no idea there's reference sites so every time he gives a gift it's a crapshoot. They only like the gifts about half the time because he gives them shit like seashells and acorns

He also has no idea that romancing people is an option. Robin gets far enough in her friendship with Abigail and Leah that Harvey lets them know about the bouquets for sale and Steve is totally blindsided

He spends a lot of time deciding which person he's going to romance, careful not to step on Robin's pixelated toes. She's convinced he's gonna go for Haley, but he sets his sights on Penny and Sebastian

Sebastian is a surprise for Robin because she wasn't really aware of Steve being anything other than straight, but he comes out to her by asking her to make a pro/con list of which one he should court

That pro/con list completely flies out the window when they meet Eddie and Steve becomes a little obsessed with Sebastian as a result. Robin teases him about it endlessly.

Eddie's over at Steve's one day while they're playing (they have to play at least once a week, and Robin doesn't let Steve play without her), sees Sebastian, and goes "hey, that guy looks cool! you should be his friend." Robin laughs for ten minutes at the way Steve blushes

Steve spends days trying to convince Robin to let Eddie join their farm (he saved for months to be able to get a switch lite, but Wayne surprised him with one as a gift for finally graduating high school), but Robin is not having it

They're well into year 3, they're pretty established, and they have a good system. Robin loves Eddie but she thinks that adding another farmer will fuck up all their shit

Steve agrees to make a secondary farm with Eddie "as long as you don't forget about your primary responsibility, Steve" and Eddie plays with him for maybe a full stardew year before he reveals that even though he LOVES to watch Robin and Steve play, it's really just not his kind of game. So Steve's attention goes back to Buckington

Robin is overjoyed. Eddie comes over pretty much every week to watch them play and make commentary and steal their snacks

Robin marries Leah and Steve doesn't marry Sebastian because Sebastian wants to leave pelican town and Steve immediately feels guilty about trying to tie him to a small town that he doesn't like all that much, and he doesn't think about why that matters so much to him

Steve doesn't marry anyone, actually. He just focuses on his rabbits - Ozzy, Van Halen, Dio, and Judas - while Robin and Leah build their little family next door. He's too busy trying to romance Eddie to find time to romance any of the townspeople. Robin's pretty busy laughing her head off at all his attempts to flirt

[daemondaes]

i saw something about his dark materials cherry so can you please talk about that because i am very :eyes emoji: about it

HI HELLO this is so sweet of you to send?? i don't have a lot of very concrete things, and she has gone through SUCH a journey, but in the end, what i've settled on is that she is a witch. an old witch.

she looks young, of course, being a witch and all, but she has been around a long time. you'd think that would give her wisdom and grace, but if it does, she doesn't often show it. she's the elderly sort that is past the point of caring for convention or decorum. she's getting wacky with her eons. i saw on twitter today this quote from matt smith regarding the eleventh doctor, and it sums up the energy i'd like to bring across with her:

it more or less falls in line with how cherry presents in canon, deathly curious and eager to experience the world around her. the difference, i suppose, is that for canon cherry it comes from a fear of her own death as much as it does boredom. for witch cherry, it's born of the knowledge that her time, while not limitless, is terribly long, and so, she thinks, it would be a waste to not attempt to experience every single little thing. what's the point of existing for so long if she isn't going to do anything fun or interesting?

yes, many witches may prefer the company of their clans, away from human society, but that can't be said for all of them. if that were true, it would be unheard of for a witch to bear children, given that their clans are exclusively female. they must go and explore at least a little, at least at some point. cherry just happens to be more of a rover than most, the same as she is in canon.

she still tends to wear the dark silks that serve as the de facto uniform of witches, although she has little problem donning more conventional apparel, if necessary, to blend in. it can be a refreshing experience, on occasion, to dress up for some significant human gathering. of course, she has few qualms about nudity (the body is as natural as anything else in nature) and only deigns to wear her black dress so as to avoid embarrassing the humans she comes in contact with, but that's neither here nor there...

this iteration of cherry is accompanied not by "nikita" the demon, but nikita the greylag gander...which is a little unfortunate, because i decided on this back when my knowledge of HDM did not extend past the show, where serafina's kaisa is a falcon(?), not...a goose. oops. i chose a goose for cherry because if, as a witch, she has to have an avian daemon, i thought i might as well get a little silly with it. the inspiration for this version of nikita came from a belligerent goose named saracen in frances hardinge's YA fantasy novel fly by night (which is excellent and i heavily recommend it to EVERYONE). there's probably something witty to say about the demon to daemon pipeline, but i haven't got the wherewithal to think it up.

the most startling thing about cherry the witch is that her hair isn't pink. i couldn't find a way to rationalize it, so she's stuck with her original hair color, a dark auburn. it worked out nicely, because now this is why she goes by the name cherry.

if you look at the names of the other witches, they have a completely different feeling and flavor from "cherry," and i didn't feel great about calling her "charity" (her true full given name), because it is named for a virtue preached by the magisterium, and, being a witch, it wouldn't fit right with cherry's religion/spirituality/culture. instead, it's a nickname someone cheekily called her long ago for her red hair, and she liked it (or that person) enough to continue to use it longer after they were gone. we don't actually know what her real name is.

i'm thinking on it for the first time now, but in canon, cherry eventually has a son she names apollo. it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility for witch cherry to have had a son as well. perhaps, a few hundred years prior, it was the father who called her cherry...

[manicpixietrashbag]

I fucking hate the sanctification and pseudo-solemnity of 9/11 and I will tell you all why.

I’m old enough to remember it. I was 8. Me and my family and my abusive fucking cult were all on a plane from Boston Logan to Orlando (We were on an all-school field trip for some reason.) We left about half an hour before the first plane hit.

We had a layover in New Jersey, and I remember seeing all the flights delayed or cancelled. I remember staring up at the monitors, laughing and joking about it with my fourth grade classmates. Our connecting flight was NOT cancelled for whatever reason, and we continued on to Florida.

Once we arrived in Florida, they kept us on the plane on the tarmac for a long time. Like, a REALLY long time. Eventually they let us off, and once they did, we found out our plane was one of 5 left in the air after the order had been given to shoot down all planes left flying.

We tried to call our families. The phone lines were jammed and crashed with the volume. We eventually got through and told them we were ok (we had left from the same airport as the hijacked planes, only two gates away from those ill-fated flights.)

It’s important to remember at this point that I was there not just with my family, but with my cult as well. At this point, our pastor’s wife (ever the astute propagandist) realized her opportunity.

She made us all kneel.

My primary memory of 9/11 isn’t the destruction, the loss of life, or the fear - it isn’t even the confusion or the sense of my entire world indefinably changing for the worse. My primary memory is a false performance for strangers.

Susan Hicks, our pastor’s wife, made all of the 26 children she was entrusted with kneel down. She bade us to pray. We were forced to kneel and perform spiritual raptures none of us truly felt. She made us kneel on the sidewalk outside the arrivals terminal, and she made us kneel in the Enterprise/Hertz rental car office that we barely fit in.

Strangers joined in. Men took off their ballcaps. Women bowed their heads. I folded my hands, I lifted my head, and watched as every screen in my line of vision showed a plane I didn’t care about fly into a building I’d never seen before.

I didn’t even talk to God. I assumed the position, and I watched though sinfully slitted eyes as people I never saw before (people I would never see again) drew some kind of comfort from a false ritual that an abusive charlatan forced onto children under her absolute power.

9/11 is a joke. It’s fucking hilarious. It doesn’t mean anything, and it never did. The men who made it happen were forged out of the DISASTROUS failure of decades of US foreign policy. The event catalyzed an equally disastrous “war” which cost millions of lives and billions of dollars.

9/11 is a fucking JOKE. Laugh at it as much as you can. The only people who want to take it seriously are people who want to take advantage of you.

9/11 is great because they tried to turn like one instance of blowback from US Imperialism into an excuse for Forever War, only for the hyperbolic and over-saturated presentation of this "greatest tragedy of all time" to quickly lose any emotional effect on the generations too young to have understood or even witnessed it at the time. So now it's just a fucking joke to everyone like under the age of 25 (including non USamericans who learned of it through osmosis from the global hegemonic culture) and if anything has served as a jumping off point for people to learn about US imperialism (both as the cause of attacks and as actions 9/11 was used to justify) and come to oppose it. So even among like Liberals, "9/11 is funny" is just the consensus opinion and "9/11 was completely justified" isn't even that controversial. In conclusion; a merry 9/11 to all and to all a good night

[nell0-0]

Hyrule Warriors but instead of the lil' hero of time there's the hero shade :)

[clownsuu]

Hey I'm Panic, and it's time to Gay!

Biblically accurate gay people jumpscare

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok, I think I have a pretty good idea of why a lot of Akechi's dialogue is... like that.

So, even before his confidant truly started, I noticed that he has a real knack for directing the flow of a conversation. This is very fitting for someone who is both a detective and skilled at interviews - when there is a topic and a goal, Akechi is in his element.

All this to say, he's actually kind of controlling when it comes to conversational flow. He probes for information, or turns the conversation around to a particular topic, usually the Phantom Thieves. He manages to take a few of Joker's dialogue options and spin them so they sound mildly incriminating in the context he's placed them in - the only way to truly get around this is to pick answers that feign indifference, and even then, that's more than a bit telling. He's clearly very good at this kind of thing.

But then, we get conversations where either Joker does something he didn't expect, or else he doesn't have a particular goal in mind - and the conversation stutters. In the first instance, Joker does something (a particularly egregious example is putting his glasses on him and fluffing his hair in rank 3) which both leaves him wrong-footed and no longer in perfect control of the situation. He just kind of... freezes, for awhile. It's hilarious. He has no idea how to respond.

He picks up control again in the phone call afterwards, having chosen to play into it, turning this "fooling the crowds" into a kind of game or secret between them. Nice save.

But in instances where there isn't an obvious topic and the goal is somewhat nebulous, for instance, that one Leblanc scene, it becomes pretty apparent that Akechi doesn't have the right "script" to go off of. Again, it's particularly notable in that scene, because I'm fairly sure he didn't have any specific reason to be at Leblanc, other than him looking for a quiet spot now that public opinion has turned on him. And because there isn't anything specific he's digging for, he kind of just ends up throwing things at the wall to see what will stick. Probing for any kind of recognizable reaction that he can jump on and work with, and that just doesn't really happen in this scene.

He references Sae, a woman in a respectable position, to Sojiro, but instead of that netting a welcome, it earns his ire, given Sae's recent actions against him. He then tries to greet Joker, his... rival? friend? enemy? person who at least seems to somewhat enjoy spending time with him? But Joker's responses are somewhat short, and Akechi practically wilts. He tries to commiserate by oversharing. He tries to involve Futaba and reaches out for the only topic of interest he can think of around "young people". He compliments the coffee. He compliments Joker. He tries to invoke that connection between them. None of it is really sticking, nor does it serve as a jumping off point for him to steer the conversation, or even really start one.

So, he basically just ends up having a one-sided chat with himself and then leaves. Hilarious. Also a little sad, if I'm being honest. It's really giving "guy with no friends who only knows how to speak to adults" energy. If there's no specific purpose to the exchange, or he is not in control of its direction, he seems to be kind of out of his depth. He succeeds only in being a little awkward and confusing, more than anything.

[hersterical]

Alright, I literally cannot stop thinking about these friendships.

Right from the get go Miles and Sokka have similar “I’m super awkward so I try to be cool and emulate older male figures who I respect but then I’m actually so much cooler and more like those role models than anyone realized once I just start being myself” vibes. So many of the themes explored with these characters are so similar!!!! I love it. But also both of them being these huge science nerds. Put them in a room with The Mechanic! And Hakoda! And Peter B! Can you imagine all the wild crap they would come up with? All of the unintended consequences they forgot to consider because they were just too excited about the science! I think Miles and Hakoda (and maybe Peter as well but only due to experience) would be the voices of reason in that group and that is such a scary thought. Miles could teach Sokka the Shoulder Touch (he tries it on Suki and her reaction is anywhere from laughing to flipping him over on his back) (I also think that Suki and Gwen would really get along while we’re on the subject). A+

And Katara and Hobie!! Adagdhjsksjdk!!!!!!! They would feed off of each other in the scariest, most intense way imaginable. I do think Hobie would try to help Katara to take a step back and think through her plans, but if they have any time to get into a discussion I think Katara could get him up to her level of recklessness. He would have been her literal biggest supporter in her duel against Pakku. And these two just literally can’t stop adopting people into their found family. With these two feeding off of each other their army on The Day of Black Sun/at the end of AtSv would’ve been twice as big. Can you imagine a Katara who is taught by Hobie how to properly channel her anger? Hobie would’ve backed up every single one of Katara’s hope speeches in his own style. There’s also a 50/50 chance that Hobie could’ve convinced Katara in season 1 that Jet was bad news (don’t get me wrong, Hobie at Katara’s age probably would’ve been just as taken in by him as she was but he has experience with charismatic leaders who seemingly offer you everything you could want) (Katara would probably also briefly develop a crush on Hobie. Like the kind of crush you don’t actually expect or even necessarily want something to happen with but this is a person you feel safe with as you’re figuring out what what you do and don’t like). They also have legendary arguments. Their political opinions are in perfect alignment roughly 95% of the time but when they’re not the results are explosive (one time literally). More often their arguments are more about the execution of how to incite a rebellion/confronting one of the others for acting stupid (Hobie believes a little too strongly in letting people learn things the hard way than Katara is usually comfortable with). Katara would be able to see the weight of too much responsibility too soon resting on Hobie’s shoulders better than anyone else just because he’s way too good at hiding behind his cool guy image and yeah, she is the mom friend. She’s the mom friend in all of the best ways (and in some of the not the best ways as well) and seeing the struggles her friends are going through that the others don’t is what she does. It also helps that Hobie is also the mom friend and so that’s just another way they understand each other (political activists/revolutionaries+mom friend= Katara and Hobie). I also think Hobie thinks Katara is unintentionally hilarious. She’s mad about it at first but eventually grows to appreciate it. And let’s not forget that Katara has already dealt out some masked vigilante justice on her own in canon, imagine if she was friends with Spider-Man! If this happens while the gaang is in Ba Sing Se then they could run into The Blue Spirit while they’re out and team up without any of them realizing (it’d be funny if Jet and Zuko stayed together and were vigilante partners as well in this scenario. But Jet would be recognized immediately because even if Zuko convinces Jet to wear a mask it wouldn’t be a full mask and Jet would rather die than part with his hook swords). They would keep their vigilantism a secret from the others because Toph would draw too much attention, Aang can be sneaky but he can’t lie or keep a secret to save his life, and Sokka would be the one holding the brain cell in this situation and insist that they knock it off (if Miles is there he would definitely join them obviously). There are so many ways in which Katara and Hobie are similar, but what I think is the most significant way is that they both have a natural talent in recognizing when others are in need and offering up their own considerable wells of emotional and mental strength in order to nurture the strength within others.

current twitter trend is saying two characters from different universes that would be besties and i feel very strongly about these two

[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

There is a man named Stanford Pines.

Just about anyone in the scientific community knows his name, and most know his face. It would be hard not to. It's plastered on magazines, on websites, on informational guides about the Institute of Oddology. Stanford Pines is synonymous with the word odd, peculiar, strange; it takes very little digging to find that.

Yet, when it comes to actually meeting the man? No matter who you ask, the answer is almost always no, they have not met him. Everyone knows of him, but nobody knows him. They see his face, they hear his name, they read his papers, they know his arguments. A lucky few even converse with him through email, or letters, or phone conversations. However, meeting him face to face seems to be an occurrence even rarer than the beasts he writes essays about.

Sometimes, he makes a public appearance. Sometimes, someone will see him walking about in some small, secluded space. His co-founder follows him like a shadow, never long taking his eyes away, full as they are of both care and peculiar caution.

Even more unheard of, sometimes, Stanford Pines will do something that interacts with the public. Once every few years, he will appear for an interview, or a photo, or something else to please the magazines that fill up his inbox. McGucket will be with him, every single time, and afterwards there will be whispers on the very internet he created from the people he'd spoken to. By all accounts, Stanford Pines is a very subdued, polite gentleman. Someone who is very intelligent and awkward, and attached to his co-founder at the hip. A man who is followed at all times by an army of personal security and NDAs. "For safety," McGucket will say as Pines' face goes dark. No one ever explains who's being kept safe, or from what.

To the students at the Institute of Oddology, it's even stranger. Nowhere does it say that seeing or meeting the core founder is guaranteed -- in fact, in comparison to other institutes, it's hardly even advertised that he's there -- but it's still surprising. If Stanford Pines is seen at all, it's almost always from behind a screen. Some students graduate without ever having seen him in-person. He does not attend events. He does not greet families. He does not make speeches unless he's being projected on a screen, a stark contrast to McGucket and his exaggerated mannerisms as his very real and present form hovers nearby. He holds no office on the entire campus. It is not unheard of to see him taking a walk with his co-founder, but it's rare enough to be shocking.

Rumors fly. Some are silly, absent things that would seem implausible to anyone who hasn't spent time in Gravity Falls. He's a vampire. He's a robot made by McGucket. He's a whole eldritch entity. Some rumors are more serious, whispered when his reclusive nature rings suspicious among the masses. None of them change the facts.

Perhaps it would make more sense if his co-founder was similar. However, Fiddleford McGucket is the polar opposite of Stanford Pines. He responds to interviewers asking about his computers. He makes speeches. He wanders around campus, stopping to chat with anyone who cares to listen. He's amiable and approachable as long as you can get past his rather extreme eccentricities, with an open-door policy and only one question he won't answer. If anyone builds up the guts to ask about Stanford Pines, and why he's so gosh darn reclusive, his only response is a sad, painful smile and a change of subject. In general, however, if one were to ask a given student of the institute where they could find Fiddleford McGucket, the chances are would be they'd be able to relay the information. However, like so much having to do with Stanford Pines, there is always a but.

At least three days a week, Fiddleford McGucket disappears for hours at a time. In theory, this would not be unusual. There's a section of the campus, slightly separate from the rest, dedicated to research. It takes much clearance to get to this area, for it is full of many very dangerous things. Some of the newer students fall under the misconseption that this is where he goes off to. However, there is a secretary at the entrance to this section of the campus, and when McGucket disappears, no amount of asking will get them to respond that he lies within. There is no summary of what he's there for, and there is no estimate of when he'll be back in his office. He is not there. For those hours, it's like he's vanished off the face of the planet.

There is another building seperated from the rest, barely visible through the trees. Tucked far behind the research area of the campus and heavily guarded at all times. No amount of clearance, or ID, or begging, will get anyone in. This place, most know, is where McGucket goes. No one can be certain, but there's a conviction there that this is the truth. It's the same way people know that this is where Stanford Pines resides. In those hours, McGucket disappears to the same nowhere at all that his co-founder lives.

No one tries to get there. Not anymore. There would be no point.

In order to do so, one would have to get into the research zone of campus. Already, this requires more clearance than most students could imagine. From there, one would have to go through a building only staff can open, at the very back of the campus, where only the most dangerous of research is kept. A security officer stands ever-vigilant at a back door leading to a winding pathway, intersected halfway through by a pair of guard stations. Past them lies a towering locked gate, centered in the midst of a towering electric fence. There is no guard station at the gate itself, though guards patrol the perimeter, even though the underbrush is too thick to walk through. There is no visible way to unlock the gate, but if one managed to get through regardless, they would find that the obstacles were still not over. The acre the fences encircle is thick with security, only some of which is human. It's impossible not to get caught, but if somehow, someone did, they would find themselves face to face with the sloped roof and charming wooden exterior so vaguely visible from the more well-trodden paths.

If one were to make it behind the reinforced door and yet one more pair of security guards, they would find nothing of note at all. In fact, were the windows not so thick, and the place not full of rooms with no place in a residence, and the path not so elaborate, and the whole area not so heavily reeking of isolation and uncanniness, one could almost mistake it for a normal home.

Inside, one would find Stanford Pines. Shorter than his head-and-shoulders shot makes him seem, and with a tangible air of melancholy about him that no projection could ever communicate.

Above all, Stanford Pines would appear incredibly alone, with only security, a McGucket Computer, and shelves upon shelves of books for company. If this someone who somehow managed to sneak in got lucky, they would arrive in this not-quite-a-home while McGucket had disappeared to there. They would find the two of them in deep conversation, and Stanford Pines would appear happier and more animated than most any living soul had seen him in decades, content in the company of his one connection; his shadow. Even when they had serious conversations, about the most serious topics in the world, something about him would be just that bit more lively. The visit would end, every time, with McGucket asking the same question. Every time, Pines would shake his head sadly as he responded; would the answer have been different, they both know that McGucket would have been informed long before he arrived.

Upon his co-founder's departure, one would be able to see Stanford Pines either sigh and sink right back into his melancholy, or the energy persist for another handful of hours. One would wonder why he was so reclusive, if he seemed so much brighter when he was among friends. One -- the impressive, unstoppable individual who managed to get into such a heavily monitored area -- would more than likely leave confused.

They wouldn't realize, unless they stayed within the bounds of the not-quite-home until it was far too late, what the hoards of security was designed for. Wouldn't realize that just as much as much as they are meant to keep someone out, they are also meant to keep someone in.

[laugtherhyena]

What a lovely group of students, i sure hope nothing bad happens to them ever ❤

For now, things are kinda chill tho

[whitehotwild]

i've never done an anon before so i'm so sorry if it sounds weird 😭😭 but do you think billy and his younger s/o would go to like, those summer carnivals? like, the ones that are at night? idk if that's js in my hometown tho 😭 she most definitely dragged him there and he reluctantly went bc he loves her, but lwk he ends up enjoying it. idkkk i js feel like there isn't enough soft!billy content on here and you are my only supplier of it 🙏🙏

OUUUUUUUU OU OU OU you just scratched an itch... im so giddy about this. (also ily and i'll gladly be ur supplier)

we only have fall carnivals in my town which sucks bc summer carnivals sound so much more fun.

you like... heard from a friend that there's this one in NJ, you try to convince butcher to go with you. you tell him that it's only 2 hours by way of penn station (nightmare nightmare nightmare), that he doesn't have to drive you, that you'll buy the entry tickets.

"let's just go to coney island, yeah? i'm not goin' to bleedin' New Jersey for a night just because you wanna ride some roller coasters. you got a ride right here..." he smirks, thinking he's oh so clever.

all it does is make you whine and go limp in his hold, "but pleeeeeeease??? It'll be fun! you're such a fucking party pooper."

it doesn't ever take much to make him give into you, that's his one weakness, "i ain't no fuckin' 'party pooper'. you're just a pain in me arse."

"okay... so are we going or not?"

butcher sighs with an unimpressed look on his face, "fine."

and then like when you're actually at the carnival, you make good on your promise to buy the entry tickets (wristbands whatever), and butcher pays for the games/rides.

after half an hour, he's spent only about $20, "I ain't spendin' over 50 bucks, got it?"

at the moment, you're more worried about what you're gonna get from the food truck than anything coming out of his mouth, "mhm. yup, got it."

you beg him to get on one of the rides with you and he finally gives in after a while, but the second you get off the ride he's looking at you like he kinda wants to kill you... just a little bit.

"you're tryna give me a bloody heart attack. i ain't doing that again."

(i'll die on the hill that butcher hates roller coasters just because i think it would be very funny.)

$100 and two hours later, butcher's finally cutting you off after winning you one of those big teddy bears from one of the game booths.

(yes, he knows he said $50. yes, he knows he's wrapped around your little finger)

"you happy, pet?" he asks you once you both settle on the train back to the city. there's no snark in his voice like you'd expect, just genuinely wanting to know that you had a good night.

you nod against his shoulder, your legs propped up in the empty seat in front of you, "yeah, i'm happy. you happy?"

butcher looks down at you, the way your head rests against him, the way your arm is snaked through his. he allows himself, just for a moment, to believe that he does deserve this... that he does deserve you and the joy you bring back to him.

"i suppose so. you like your bear?" he nudges you gently, motioning to where you sat the big stuffed bear in the seat in front of him.

"mhm... gonna name it 'billy jr.'" you tease with a tired smile, you're halfway to falling asleep and the train's barely left the station.

billy (sr.) huffs, unimpressed, but there's a small smile on his face, he untangles his arm from yours and wraps it around your shoulders, covering your eyes with his hand as he pulls you a bit closer into his side.

"ah, fuck off... you're delirious, go to sleep."

୨ ♡ ୧

just wanna say sorry that im not getting to requests as quick as i'd like! got a lot of shit happening atm BUT im on vacay atm so hopefully i can pump some out this week! LOVE YOU BYEEEE!

[amphibianaday]

how long have you been aware of Atul from spirit farer?

day 1532 this is obviously just an excuse to draw him again (referenced straight from an ingame screenshot) i've been passivley aware of him for a while. i'm pretty sure someone requested him and i intended to draw him and just forgot actively aware - about a week, since i started playing the game myself :)

[babblingbookends]

Writing prompt: Bruce teaching a Robin of your choice (or Cass) how to swim

For this I had to google three things: 'how deep are in-ground pools', 'how tall are twelve-year-old boys', and 'basic swimming strokes'. Hope you like it!

~~~

“We went to the beach one time when I was a toddler, but I was too young to remember it, and a membership to the city pools cost too much. When would I have learned to swim?”

“I thought maybe at school.”

Jason crossed his arms. So maybe he was feeling a little defensive; sue him. “All the schools I’ve been to, I’ve been lucky if they have free lunches, forget about a pool.”

Bruce shrugged, like it was no big deal that Jason was poor and never learned how to swim. “Well, Alfred will be opening the pool next weekend, so we’ll have swimming lessons then.”

“Isn’t it going to be cold?” Jason asked warily.

Bruce winked. “It’s a heated pool. Perks of being wealthy.”

Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t care that he didn’t know how to swim. That was Bruce though; no problem he couldn’t solve. “As long as it’s warm,” Jason agreed.

~~~

Bruce explained to him about different strokes, about holding your breath, about buoyancy and physics and a bunch of other stuff that Jason had tuned out five minutes ago.

“C’mon, B, just let me do it,” he said, impatient. “I’m not going to learn by just standing here.”

“Alright,” Bruce said, ruffling his hair. “Let me get in first, and then you.”

“Jeez, I’m not going to drown on the ladder,” Jason said, but he let Bruce get in first. “Is it cold?” he asked, eyeing the water. Bruce wasn’t acting like it was cold, but knowing him he’d probably taken swimming lessons in the north pole or something and thought a cold pool was warm.

“Nope, it’s a perfect temperature.”

Jason dipped his toe in. “I don’t know, it kinda feels cold.”

“Jason, two seconds ago you were telling me to hurry up, and now you’re stalling. Get in.”

“Fine!” he said, tossing his hands in the air. He stepped onto the first step, the water coming up to his ankles. “Okay, you were right, it’s not cold,” he said begrudgingly. He stepped down further into the water, until he was off the ladder. With his feet on the ground, the water level came up to his neck.

“The shallow end is four feet, and the deep end is eight feet,” Bruce said. “We’ll stay in the shallow end until you’ve got the basics and then you can do some laps if you want.”

“Cool,” Jason said. He bounced in the water. “Hey, this is pretty fun!” So maybe he’d been a little nervous. But just a little! But that was dumb, because the water was pretty nice, even if the air was a little cold. He splashed at Bruce, and spluttered when Bruce splashed back.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Bruce said fondly.

~~~

Bruce demonstrated the basics of the front crawl stroke, and then slowly Jason began to practice it as Bruce corrected his form. Eventually, he’d figured out enough of the motions that he’d gotten a bit of a rhythm and Bruce wasn’t giving out so many corrections.

“Can I try some laps now?” Jason asked eagerly, when Bruce made him stop for a drink.

“Sure, son, if you’re not too tired.”

Tired? How could he be tired? He could do this all day, he was having so much fun!

“Yeah, I want to. Obviously,” he said, handing his water bottle over to Bruce and jumping back into the water, ignoring the way Bruce rolled his eyes.

He pulled his goggles back on and started at the shallow end, kicking and stroking his way across the pool, turning his face out of the water only to breath, just like B had shown him, and when he got to the other end he stopped for a moment to yell back to Bruce, “Look, B, I’m doing it!”

“You’re doing great, Jason, keep it up!” Bruce called back from where he was watching at the other end, and Jason beamed and started back towards him.

He was maybe a quarter of the way back when his leg cramped, and he missed a stroke, and he fell under the water further than he was expecting.

Panic grabbed him and he sunk, his whole body falling beneath the surface of the water. He kicked, trying to get to the surface, then twisted when the cramp in his leg throbbed worse.

His face broke out of the water. “Oh god,” he garbled, spitting out a mouthful of water and trying to get a breath in before he sunk again.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him out of the water. He immediately latched on, wrapping himself around Bruce.

“Don’t let go! Don’t let go!” he gasped, frantic.

“I’ve got you, you’re fine, stop choking me,” Bruce wheezed. “I’ve got you.” Reluctantly, Jason loosened his grip around Bruce’s neck. Bruce carried him back to the side and set him down on the edge.

Now out of the water, Jason felt slightly more calm, but that meant that his brain was now focusing on the sharp, painful cramp in his calf. “Ah!” he winced, pressing his thumb into the cramping muscle, trying to get it to relax.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked. Jason wiped the water out of his eyes and looked up at him. B looked almost… scared, but it was a look Jason had never seen on him before, so he couldn’t be sure.

“I’m fine, B,” he said, breath catching as he massaged the muscle. “It was just a leg cramp, it caught me off guard.”

“Here, let me,” Bruce said, brushing Jason’s hands away and beginning to rub out the muscle with smooth efficiency. Jason wondered how many time Bruce had rubbed out his own cramps, or if Alfred had done it for him.

“Hey, Bruce?” Jason asked.

“Hmm?”

“This was really great. Well, up until I almost drowned.”

“You weren’t even close to drowning,” Bruce grumbled, and yeah, maybe Jason hadn’t recognized that look on his face but that sure was a familiar tone of voice. Bruce had been scared, at least a little.

“Sure, boss,” he said cheerfully, trying to make sure Bruce knew that he was okay, physically and emotionally. “Whatever you say.”

Bruce stopped rubbing out his calf and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!” he complained, but it didn’t really hurt.

“Fine, you almost drowned. But you get to tell Alfred about it.”

“Uh, never mind,” Jason said, backtracking. “I wasn’t really that close to drowning. We don’t need to mention anything to Alfred.”

Bruce grinned at him, and Jason for sure recognized that look: partners in crime.