#this was bound to happen i think

[adenial-a]

@aterlupus​ continued from x

     there  are  no  words  to  describe  the  knife  that  slices  away  at  her  chest . she  breathes , and  sucks  it  in  further , wondering  if  this  would  be  the  final  straw  that  breaks  her  heart  completely . a  taut  string  snaps  after  being  wrung  around  a  finger  over  and  over  and  over  again , and  leaves  the  skin  it  touched  pressed  &  molded  in  it’s  shape .       that’s  how  she  feels . like  a  string  finally  snapping . every  tally , every  mark , of  sorrow  and  grief  she  experienced  rounded  the  circumference  of  her  body , crushing  her  down , and  in  a  desperate  bid  to  find  something  that  needed  her  as  much  as  she  needed  them  she  was  cut  down  again .    with  every  word  he  spoke  in  denial  of  her  request , she  shrunk . arms  wounded  their  way  across  her  torso , and  her  shoulders  shrunk . her  head  lowered . she  carried  herself  like  she  would  fall  apart  if  she  didn’t  hold  it  all  together , staring  up  at  gaius  and  feeling  like  a  child  scolded .      she  feels  anger  like  never  before  well  up  inside  of  her  chest , like  fire  and  bile  burning  the  back  of  her  throat . she  feels  like  crying , and  screaming , and  raging  defiantly  against  the  lot  in  life  she  had  been  given .      it’s  not  gaius’  fault , not  really . a  rational  mind  would  know  this , be  able  to  understand  that  his  children  always  came  first , but  lovek  had , for  the  most  part , lived  a  life  denied  selfish  desires  despite  how  prevalent  they  burned  in  her  throat . she  knew  it  when  she  married  him  where  his  priorities  lied , and  had  even  accepted  them , but  no  one  had  really  explained  what  it  meant .       they  never  had  the  time  or  chance  to  be  selfish  with  each  other . she  never  really  had  the  chance  to  be  made  to  feel  like  she  was  special  to  him . and  that  reality  is  what  she  had  agreed  to , naive  as  she  was .     the  bitterness  rises , pricks  tears  in  her  eyes , and  a  shaking  hand  rises  to  run  through  the  messy  disaster  that  was  her  unkempt  hair . she  laughed , soft  and  airy , before  looking  away  from  gaius  towards  the  seafront  horizon  casting  gentle  light  across  the  city .     “   have  i  ever  actually  asked  you  for  anything , before ?   “   she  asks  then , an  emptiness  in  her  voice . it’s  an  unfair  question , manipulative  in  nature , and  futile  as  well . she  doesn’t  say  it  out  loud  to  pressure  some  sort  of  percieved  right  to  gaius , but  because , in  her  mind , it’s  a  truth .       her  chin  wobbles , and  she  sucks  in  a  defiant  breath  and  swallows  it  like  a  petulant  child , before  burying  her  face  into  the  palm  of  her  hands  and  letting  a  choked  sound  break  through .      “   you  could  ask  me ,   “   she  sobbed , rubbing  at  her  eyes , finally  letting  the  dam  break . she  hiccuped , and  let  her  breath  shudder ,   “   ask  me . ask  me  to  stay !      “   just  show  me  one  fucking  sign  that  you  actually  care !   “   she  screamed  at  him , snapping  like  a  branch , her  incredible  sorrow  falling  out  of  her  in  a  torrent  of  anger , taking  a  step  closer  to  him .       “   all  you’ve  done  is  abandon . you  abandoned  me , you  abandoned  your  children , you  abandoned  your  empire , your  friends . you’ve  run  away  from  everything  in  your  life  and  suddenly , magically , now  that  all  of  your  children  are  dead  because  you  left  them  you  want  to  play  the  good  man ?   “      her  words  were  uncalled  for , and  she  was  wrong  for  having  said  it , but  it  leaves  her  tongue  before  she  has  the  chance  to  realize  what  she’s  done . she  flinches  at  her  own  self , stepping  back  like  it  was  gaius  who  had  burned  them  and  not  herself .      “   haven’t  i  been  good  enough ?   “   she  asked  him  meekly , her  eyes  pleading  for  something  that  she  knows  she’ll  never  have .   “   i  spent  so  much  of  myself  trying  to  keep  them  safe , keep  them ... together , after  you  went  and  got  yourself  blown  up . and  i  know ! i  know  you  never  fucking  asked  me  to . wasn’t  my  fucking  job  to  do  it . but  i  loved  them , i  loved  you  --   “     she  hesitates , her  breath  catching  in  her  throat , and  her  anger  recedes  back  into  sorrow . her  overwhelming  grief  falls  out  of  her  in  the  calling  card  of  a  broken  sob , and  she  might  just  fall  over  in  the  grief  she  feels .     “   why  can’t  anyone  i  love  want  me  enough  to  stay , gaius ?   “   she  asks , trembling ,  “   why  can’t  someone , anyone , feel  obligated  to  me ? am  i  truly  so  worthless ?    “

[dizzybizz]

please consider jellyfish john,, for me 🥺?

[uncanny-tranny]

An important aspect of youth liberation is not tying the idea of later adult care with having children.

The broader attitude that only your children can ensure that you get taken care of when you grow old is not a good precedent to set. Having children should not be what ensures that you can live through old age, and fear mongering people with the idea that nobody will ever take care of them (or, rather, shouldn't) is such an awful motivator to have children.

[werewolfenthusiast]

do you think sirius ever accidentally barked while in human form

[iamhereinthebg]

Seeing Akane reacts so strongly seeing Kako being destroyed was already a big shot at my heart but Mirai and Akane protecting each other absolutely annihilated me in the last chapter.

Akane is a character who is really blunt about his opinion and stands his ground, he said right away in his introduction chapter how strongly he hates the clock keepers, and insists on how much he isn't like them.

In this new arc, he is forced to face this part of him he doesn't want to acknowledge since the beginning, he has been forced to do it a lot since the grim reaper arc (and I think it's really starting to get to him but this is for another day)

Aoi Akane, the human forced to be a supernatural who hates his contract and the clock keepers so much he wants nothing to do with them. But what does he do when fighting Tsukasa? He keeps the latter's attention on him so the threat can't get to Mirai.

Akane is mortal and human. The only mortal clock keepers and supernatural, and he still risks his life to protect Mirai. The yorishiro of the clock keepers yes, but mostly Mirai.

He shifts his attention from Tsukasa to her because he knows what she represents for the clock keepers and he waits for the moment to let her free, even if it results in him getting hurt.

Akane is the character of the cast who shows the most how he loves life, he definitely doesn't want to die. We can see it in how he defends himself, his last movement in this fight being one of protection (and fear). Something he has been doing more since coming back a second time from the far shore. Even if he doesn't want to die, he is still at his core a nice person. He is distressed at the idea of death, disappearing for good, no matter who it may concern in the end. Finding a way to protect Mirai (and the yorishiro) goes before his own safety.

And then Mirai gets the blow for him. She knows it means Tsukasa will get the yorishiro. Kako has been the mystery the most alarmed about the yorishiros being destroyed by Hanako. But Mirai, n°1, who knows how dangerous it is for another yorishiro to be destroyed for the land, sacrifices their seat number, herself and what is supposely the most important thing to them, for Akane.

Akane is a proactive character who rarely stops in his actions. Even when Aoi was "dead" he was activaly searching for a way to bring her back and when he learned she was gone he was quick to try to find a way to go where she was. When he stops, it's because he is physically unable to move. But here, even if he is still concsious and has Time's power he doesn't do anything, like he is the one being stopped in time, unable to move on from Mirai's body.

Mirai may be made of gears but it's been clear since the beginning that she has a real attachement to Akane. Wearing the name he gave her like a medal, jumping on him whenever she can, having a personality where she clearly has fun when he is present, and actually being the one noticing him on his first day at school.

And what does it mean after all for a yorishiro to be sacrified to protect something else? That maybe Akane is in the end more important than what the yorishiro represents for the clock keepers.

If this follows the pattern of a lot of mysteries it may mean that Mirai and Kako have strong regrets/resentment towards the story/person behind their yorishiro.

It's kind of beautiful in the end to see Mirai sacrifiying their past and future to focus on the one representing the present.

[dve]

the saint of duty + an iliad's hector of troy

An Iliad, Lisa Peterson & Denis O'Hare, p. 480 / Harrow the Ninth, p. 124, 133, 191, 193, 194, 204, 228, 267 292, 469 / Nona the Ninth, p. 30, 399, 402

[connorsnothereeither]

What if I said that hypothetically Brink and Caught Between Collapsing Skies take place in the same universe. Just for funsies. What’s stopping me. Maybe all my fics are secretly in the same universe, who knows. Maybe it’s all connected. Maybe it’s all part of a plan- /j

[tigeristired]

vast's parents are seemingly sending women after him to remind him about his cult memberships extended warranty

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 134

big vaxxed papi is no longer untouchable

[coquettejohnny]

when you're in a mischaracterization/annoying competition but your opponent is the tiktok outsiders fandom

[seaweedstarshine]

Late to the game as I’ve kinda been kinda non-here for a minute but I scrolled through the Dot and Bubble tag, and thought I wanted to write this post into existence.

There's this part in Doctor Who Unleashed where RTD says this:

“What we can’t tell is how many people will have worked that out before the ending. Because they’ve seen white person after white person after white person, and television these days is very diverse. I wonder, will you be ten minutes into it, will you be fifteen, will you be twenty, before you start to think, everyone in this community is white. And if you don’t think that — why didn’t you? So, that’s gonna be interesting. I hope it’s one of those pieces of television you see, and always remember.”

And I'm like. Yeah. But the reason this works even as well as it does is largely thanks to the work of the previous showrunner with the previous creative team, which was notably the first era to have any writers of color (amongst other firsts in terms of inclusivity in directors, composer, actors). While Chibnall fumbled whenever he tried to write about race himself, he did have the self-awareness to have Black and South Asian writers writing the episodes where race is the focus (and a female writer for the episode where sexism is a focus; my point is, he seemed to know his shortcomings).

I wonder what the current creative team looks like? (not really, but I wasn't 100% sure for all of them)

To quote RTD:

“...before you start to think, everyone in this community is white.”

This is pretty non-self-aware, right? It's pretty “It is said, and I understand this, there was a history of racism with the original Toymaker, the Celestial Toymaker, who had ‘celestial,’ and I did not know this, but ‘celestial’ can mean of Chinese origin, but in a derogatory way,” right? (from The Giggle Unleashed) It's pretty “and I had problems with that, and a lot of us on the production team had problems with that: associating disability with evil,” right? (from Destination Skaro Unleashed)

—none of which are issues that should be overlooked, but think how much exponentially better they might’ve been addressed if he’d consulted with Chinese writers and wheelchair-using writers before going straight to giving the Toymaker weird fake accents and making Davros walk?

How many Black or non-white people do we think saw the Dot and Bubble script before it landed in Ncuti’s hands?

And this just keeps happening.

And like, from some of the shocked responses I've seen from white viewers to the ending of Dot and Bubble, maybe the episode's unsubtlety was needed? From the way RTD talks about it in Unleashed, the episode was written with a white audience in mind, Baby's First Microaggressions (where of course the microaggressions come from people who are pretty self-admittedly white supremacists). Ricky September, a more seemingly normal depiction of someone in the racist bubble of Finetime, seemed like an interesting element, up until the way he died.

The ending worked for me, because I do think the Doctor's reaction is true to how the Doctor would react. I just keep thinking of how much better the core themes could've been handled by someone with actual lived experience on the subject matter.

[nerves-nebula]

turtles are a HOBBY for me if u treat me like a Content Creator who is here to Entertain You instead of a fellow hobbyist who's sharing my art and writing with u for free i will explode ever muscle in ur body with my brain. and you will become blocked.

[sparks-chaotic-cove]

okay so like-

Vast instinctively tried to fix him and Rune’s situation with gifts- and I think that says a lot. He’s used to catering to people as targets- giving them what they want to get the end goal. To make things better.

so of course when he fucks up she tries to fox it in an outpouring of gifts. After all, that’s what the other “partners” have wanted, right?

but then he talks with Gaverin and Sylph. And they effectively help him realize what he already knows- that this will take time.

but it hurts because Vast isn’t used to caring. He’s used to being the good guy, not needing to feel shame. But now he wants to pluck at his feathers and has become less afraid to hurt himself to make things better. He knows the Avicane will come after her but he can’t bring himself to go back to them.

he wants so hard to be good, even when being good will eventually cause his death. But they feels like a monster that breaks everything he touches. So he vows to leave after it’s over.

because it’s better for everyone if they’re not there, right?

it’s better for everyone if a monster isn’t lurking in the shadows, pretending to be a friend when eventually it’ll hurt them in some way. Monsters don’t deserve community. Monsters don’t deserve love. …right?

[shhh-secret-time]

We're back with another Soulmate AU request AND another request from AO3, they're so rare these days! I wanted to do something special for Craig, I kind of feel like he'd be a fuck destiny kinda guy. Anyway y'all know the drill.

Warning: Hot Pokemon takes, Strong-Language, Clyde being a dork again

Pairing: Craig x GN!Reader

Crack

"Hm.."

Snap

"Dude. Stop."

Pop

"Dude! Stop!"

Clyde's voice pulls Craig's gaze over, the bored expression on his face would normally make anyone flinch back but Clyde's used to the look. Years of friendship with the stoic man will desensitize anyone to that kind of look. Craig swears it's just because Clyde's an idiot, no one else in South Park takes that kind of tone with him.

"You sound like a glow-stick over there! I swear you've already popped all those fingers a minute ago, are you on your knuckles now or something?" Clyde puts his DS down on his lap with a grumble.

He's slouched so far down on Craig's couch it looks like he's melting into it, the lower half of his body is barely on the couch at all. He's all but holding himself up with his legs while his back rests on the firm cushions beneath him. He looked like a slinky being tossed down the stairs, but if it got stuck going down a step.

"You're in my house." Craig responded so matter of fact.

Then he finished cracking the hand he was in the middle of working on. He presses his thumb against each finger on his hand. Once each little finger makes that satisfying sound, he wraps his hand around the other and squeezes. His thumb and index finger settle just below the knuckles, feeling the muscles and bone shift under his grip a shiver runs down his spine.

"Gaaaaaah! That doesn't hurt you? You're gonna fuck up your hands man." Clyde physically squirms at the sound, twisting and rolling back and forth as if he's trying to escape the sound.

"No. I like it." Craig picks his DS up from his lap and continues playing on the little handheld device.

"Alright but when you have old grandpa hands at the age of twenty-five don't come crying to me. Spongebob broken finger head-ass." Clyde smirks, returning to the game with his friend.

Craig side eyes him, shooting a small glare his direction but it goes unnoticed. Once again, Clyde is lucky he's one of his best friends. Being stupid makes you brave apparently.

The two fall into a comfortable silence, the music from Clyde's DS playing loudly while Craig's is shut off. The sound of both games going on at once drove Craig mad. If the music didn't line up it felt like someone jabbing him in the head. So, he settled for listening to Clyde's, he knew the brown-haired man liked the Pokemon sound track anyway. A small tradition they started in middle school that's held up. Playing Pokemon next to each other on the weekends, if one got Green the other got Red. If one got Sapphire, the other got Ruby. Right now, Craig has Diamond, and he has Pearl.

Craig was no means a perfectionist, but something about the incomplete Pokedex drove him mad. He hated looking at the black silhouette of a Pokemon uncaught, the taunting ??? made him want to spike the thing into the ground. They would spend hours next to one another talking about their teams, racing to see who could beat the Elite Four before the other, making fun of each other's favorite Pokemon. Craig long since beat the game and was just waiting on Clyde to catch up, he was still waiting on Clyde to catch his Slowpoke like he promised him forever ago.

Clyde was a Slowpoke.

He chuckles at the thought making Clyde look up at him with his brow raised but he chooses not to say anything. After a while Craig closes his DS and chooses to watch Clyde walk around the tall grass.

"You're using the Scyther I traded you?" he asks, resting his cheek on top of Clyde's head. Holding himself up right now sounded exhausting, Clyde made the perfect head rest. Even if he wasn't slumped down on the couch, their height difference allowed for it. To be fair Craig's height difference allowed him to do this to just about anyone. The only person he couldn't comfortably do this too would be Broflovski.

"Yeah! He’s my favorite! He's a handsome devil, reminds me of myself!" Clyde tucks his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, the smug smirk on his lips makes his face look stupid.

"Do you wanna evolve him? You can trade him over and we can turn him into a Scizor."

"Nah, then I'll lose all the affection I've been building him with! Look I've got two little hearts by his head! He loves me man!"

"You can build it back."

"Maybe you can toss away your Pokemon’s affection, but not me Tucker! He doesn't need to change! He's perfect the way he is!" Clyde exclaims as he throws his hand in the air.

Craig's about to respond but stops when Clyde encounters another Pokemon, a Pachirisu nothing out of the normal. But what was out of the normal was the stripe on its tail wasn't the typical baby blue, it was a bright pink. Craig's eyes widen as the sparkles swirl around the little animated creature.

And typical Clyde just button mashes through the whole thing, he's not paying attention to the DS, going on about his love for his Scyther. His thumb moves over the attack button and Craig wants to grab his hand to stop him. But once again he's not fast enough, and the low leveled thing is easily defeated by his level sixty something Pokemon.

"Um dude...you know I love hugs and all, but I thought you hated them?" Clyde's voice is muffled under Craig. Craig has him pinned under him against the couch, chest pressed into his side, arm outstretched to grab the DS.

"Dude! That was a shiny! You could have caught that!" Craig's exclaims shaking the man under him.

"What?! Oh man! I didn't know!"

"How the fuck didn't you know?! It sparkled! It's fucking pink!"

"Uh...was it?"

"What?" Craig stops shaking him at that, tightened fists around his collar loosen only slightly.

"I didn't know, you know I'm color-blind right?" Clyde takes the opportunity to sit up, he chuckles at Craig's expression.

Although rare, it's not unheard of. Craig isn't a robot, or a man born without emotions, he just has a hard time expressing them sometimes. Clyde knows that, but it's still funny every time he sees that crack in Craig's usual stoic nature. Even more so that it was over a stupid video game and Clyde's inability to see color.

So instead of responding to him Craig shakes his head and furrows his brows, confusion written clear on his face.

"Yeah man," Clyde takes a breath in between cackling. "I'm completely color blind, lost it when we were in high school. It's my soulmate thing. I see in black and white now." He waves his hand over his face with a dorky grin.

He doesn't respond at first, taking a moment to take in what his best friend was saying. "I just thought you dressed like that on purpose."

"Come on dude! Would it kill you to say something nice to me?! Just oNCE!?" Clyde smacks him with the cushion tucked behind him which Craig uses to beat him back.

After a brutal beat down using a couch cushion, Craig pulls back the weapon and looks down at the defeated pile of Donovan further pressed into his couch. He sits back with his leg pulled up towards his chest, arm thrown lazily across his knee.

"So, you can't see color because you haven't met your soulmate? That sounds rough."

"Yeah, it kinda sucks, it's gonna sound gay but I miss seeing things like the sunset and movies are kinda lame now. I still wear this jacket because at least I know it's red." Clyde collects himself and tries to fix his hair that's been flattened down.

"Hm." A low grunt and Craigs on his feet.

To anyone else it would be the end of the conversation, it would be their que to move on and talk about something else. But Clyde isn't just anyone. He's the guy who's been with Craig since they were kids, he knows that grunt. That shift in body language. Craig's uncomfortable but wants to say something.

"Come on Tucker Bear don't be like that, tell me what's going on." The nickname earns him a glare, but it stops the black haired man from going to the kitchen. He grins at him in return, telling Craig that he's getting what he wants.

"What have I told you about calling me that?"

"That you love it so much and you're so grateful that your best friend would give you the best nickname ever." The sentence is almost cut short from the way he scrambles back away from Craig, holding his hands up defensively. His voice is cracking from the way he tries to keep the giggle out of it.

Craig stops and sighs, his hands come up to the strings on the side of his hat. The frayed yellow rope splitting at the ends from how often he twists it between his fingertips. He does it when he needs to collect his thoughts, figure out a way to put them into words.

".... you didn't tell me you got your Soulmate thing." It finally comes out in a soft tone.

"Are you upset because I didn't tell you? I'm sorry man." Clyde's silly demeanor drops, quickly shifting to one that matches his friend’s tone. He stands up and follows him into the kitchen.

"No. I just..." A pause and he opens the fridge door. Scanning the inside for something to drink, his mouth is incredibly dry right now. "...didn't know. I thought you were like me."

"Like you?"

"Like...born without a mark or whatever."

"Oh."

That's all he can say, all that comes out of his mouth. Craig snaps the can of soda open and takes a sip and it feels like a rock settling in his stomach. His lips press together tasting the sugary drink on his lips. The rock in his stomach lurches up when he sees Clyde's eyes well up with tears, little beads of water spilling from his lids. For the second time that day, he makes Craig's eyes widen.

"Are you crying?"

He quickly goes to wipe the tears away from his brown eyes, the little orbs always looked like a baby cow's. Using the sleeves on his jacket, he sniffles and looks up at him. "It's just- you don't have a soulmate!"

"Yeah, I know."

"That's so sad dude!"

"I guess."

He sobs again, the tears spill faster and harder down his face. Craig sighs and gives into the over dramatic man an awkward pat on the back. The rest of the day was spent calming Clyde down and reassuring him that he wasn't actually angry at him for killing the shiny. They watch a few episodes of Red Racer where Craig describes the colors for him until he got tired of it.

All through the day the conversation gnawed at the back of his head. It followed him to bed and kept him from sleeping. Clyde refused to go home so he spent the night on the floor next to him. Didn't want to sleep on the couch but didn't want to sleep in the bed with him. Wanted to be near but not close enough to make Craig want to peel his skin off. He appreciated the idiot.

But it was that idiots fault he was thinking so hard on this. Why was he born without a soul-mate tic, or thing or whatever the fuck it was called. Were there others like him or was Craig Tucker really that just unlucky? Why did he care so much, he made it this far in life by himself. So why was it just now starting to eat at him?

With a huff he turned and rolled over towards the window next to his bed, staring up at the night sky. The moon was half full today, and it was cloudy out so he could barely see the stars. He was a grown man majoring in Astronomy, he didn't need a stupid mark to tell him where to go and who to be with. He could still see color fine. No flowers were blooming out of his face making his allergies act up.

No, it was just him. Just him and whatever was out there waiting for him. Right now, he really wanted it to be sleep.

Eventually he gave in to the tired behind his eyes, lids so heavy he couldn’t keep them open anymore but burned when he finally closed them. Clyde was gone the next morning when he finally woke up, he left him a text saying he was going to pick his sister up and do something with her.

It didn't matter he had class to get to anyway, the semester was in full swing, and he didn't have time to fall behind. As he gets ready, pulling his blue hat over his head and the matching NASA jacket over his shoulders, he peers down at his DS left on the side table. He picks it up and tucks it into the pockets of the jacket, in between classes he could wait in the lounge and play on it a little more. There wasn't much left to do but he could always grind his team to a hundred.

Once he feels ready, he steps out of his house and starts the walk to the bus stop. Ever since he moved out of his parents the walk to the college campus took a little longer than normal, so it was easier to just ride the bus there. He sticks his headphones in and settles in the worn-out seats of the dirty looking white bus. Somehow cleaner than the yellow ones from when he was still a teenager, but not by much. The music from his DS playing in his ears drowns out the sounds of people mumbling to themselves and whatever other weird thing South Park could throw at him.

It also drowns out your footsteps. Drowns out your question if the seat next to him was taken. So, it isn't until he feels you sitting next to him that he notices you're there. He side-eyes you for a moment, which you return with a little nod. A part of him is relieved when you don't immediately try to make small talk with him. Instead, you offer him a little smile and go back to the book in your hand. His amber eyes travel down to peek at what it is you're reading, and he's surprised when instead of a textbook he sees a comic.

Guardians of the Galaxy

From the angle you were holding it, he couldn't tell exactly what issue you were on, but the cover looked good. He cocks his head to the side a little to get a better look. Feeling his eyes on you, you look up at him and raise a brow. It takes a second, but you piece together what he's trying to do so you close the comic and show it off to him.

You're on an issue he's already read through. He removes the headphones from his ear.

"I didn't think anyone else read the Guardians series." Craig says, it's out of pocket for him to be the first to initiate but the thought of meeting someone who's a fan like him is actually exciting. It's enough to pull him out of his little mental funk.

"Yeah! I just started collecting these issues last week! Have you read this series?" You say with a smile that’s a little too bright for him.

He nods again at you, and that's where the conversation should have ended. You go back to your reading, and he goes back to his game. But it doesn't, you lean over and catch a glimpse at what he's playing. He watches the recognition sparkle up in your eyes.

"Oh, which one is that? Gen four, right?"

"Yeah. It's Diamond."

"Oh! Cool! I've got Platinum! I gotta default to the third one because I don't have friends who play the game!" You laugh at your own joke, eyes going from the DS to his.

Craig stares down at you for a while. He sets the DS in his lap and pushes the palm of his hand against his fingers. Hands popping and snapping again, the little tic making him relax. You don't comment like Clyde does, but you are still talking.

"Gen four has to be my favorite in the series! I just couldn't get into Black and White!" That makes him stop and look at you like you're crazy.

"That's the best one in the series though."

"That's what everyone tells me, but I hated the starters!"

Time slips past him, the way you pull him into the conversation so naturally. It isn't until the bus pulls up to the campus that he realizes he's been talking to you the entire time. You perk up when the bus lets out a sigh and a hiss, telling its passengers that they've reached their destination.

"Oh, this is my stop! Hey, it was awesome talking with you!" You grin and stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

You give him a little finger salute and take off, you're so quick to scurry away he doesn't have time to tell you that this is his stop too. Of course he's never noticed you around campus before, Craig was never one to waste his energy on things that didn't require it. He had his select group of friends and was happy with that, but now here you were wedging your way into his mind. As he stands up to get off the bus, lazily throwing the headphones over his neck, it dawns on him that he didn't even catch your name.

Oh well, so much for that. Maybe he'd see you around.

The universe must have answered that for him because the next morning he sees you on the bus again. He watches as you push past the isle of seats and plop down next to him with another book in your hand. A different issue, a different conversation. There are days where you sit in silence doing your own thing. Then there are days where you talk his ear off and he just sits and listens, occasionally throwing in his thoughts on whatever you're talking about.

But he listens. That was new, normally he just tends to zone out if he doesn't care. Somehow you find a way to make him care, a way to make him invested in the conversation. He even goes out of his way to learn your name and what you're studying.

"Ah it's just general studies right now, a little bit of everything until I figure out what I wanna do. I wasn't even planning on going to college, it just kinda happened." You tell him leaning back in your seat.

"What, so you just woke up one day and decided that was it?" Craig scoffs a bit at the idea but the amused glint in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Heh. Well Mr. Space-boy not all of us know what we wanna do with life from the womb." You snicker at his reaction, tallying another eyeroll in your head.

"It's Space-Man. I'm Space-Man Craig." He corrects you before moving on, so you don't comment on the little pink hue on his face. "I get that but how do you go from I'm not going to college, to just doing it?"

You smile, it's different than the dorky one you usually shoot at him or the one when you tell a bad joke. It almost seems sad. He can't put his finger on it, but he doesn't need to wait long for you to roll up your sleeve. On your wrist is a font that looks almost like an alarm clock, the block black ink reads "0:00".

"Had this guy I was with. Was with him for six years, we were high-school sweethearts, prom date, whole nine yards. They were my soulmate, the little counter on my wrist told me that much." You take a deep breath, and he watches the way your fingers move across the skin.

He pops his fingers again, pushing them against each other.

"Well, about a year ago I realized...I kinda hated it? Hated the fact this stupid mark on my body got to dictate who I fell in love with? I mean we didn't even have anything in common, and while we never really argued we just had a different outlook on life. I think a part of me still loves him, but...I can't really love him in the way this thing wants me to." You emphasize that you're talking about the marking on your skin by holding it up.

Little rays of sunlight brush across your skin and Craig can't help but follow it. You had a soulmate, of course you did. He feels that rock in his stomach again, weighing heavier than it did last time. The week he got where he wasn't thinking about this whole thing was nice, but now that he's reminded his body tenses back up.

He cracks his fingers again, squeezing the side of the palm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trauma dump on you." He raises a brow at you silently asking you what you mean by that. "Call it a sixth sense, or the fact that you pop your fingers and do that little Hm when you're thinking about something. So, I figured you were annoyed by the random dump."

You were more attentive than he would have given you credit for. He hasn't known you that long and you're already picking up on things that took Clyde years to. Then again, Clyde and attentive don't really go hand in hand.

"No, it's not you. It's the..." He rolls his wrist a few times trying to find the words, fingers eventually find purchase on the strings of his hat dangling by his face. "Soul-mate thing. I don't have one."

"Ah yeah, I can see how that's a weird topic for you then! But hey that's kind of cool!" You beam up at him, the sunlight slips off your wrists and onto your lips.

Wait, what?

"You get to pick who you wanna love, that's awesome. That means the connection goes deeper! You gotta build something with someone, nothing telling you to just jump straight into a relationship! No pressure, just you and the other person!" Your eyes are like little stars as you speak. A tiny galaxy that he can't seem to pull himself out of.

Wait, what?

Like clockwork, the bus stops and you go to get up. Except this time Craig is fast enough, he takes your hand. His fingers slip into your palm and stop you from moving. Your finger salute falls back to your side. He just looks at you for a while, the only thing he can hear right now is the collection of people getting off the bus and his own heartbeat drumming in his chest.

"If you're not getting off, I need you to sit down please!" The bus driver makes you flinch and sit back down next to Craig.

"Sorry sir!" You call back.

When you look back at him with a confused look, he freezes again. His mouth hangs open for a second, only to close. He almost looks like a fish out of water from the way he's trying to collect his thoughts. Craig expects you to get back up and tell him goodbye. To run off the bus and never speak to him again.

Instead, you sit there, patiently waiting for him to collect himself. You wait there even when the door to the bus shuts and the engine kicks back on. You look at him with wonder and he has to avert his gaze from you. Pulling his hat over his eyes for a moment because he realizes he's still holding your hand and the heat coming up to his face is too much.

"I... I’m sorry. I just wanted to-" What did he want? His mind was drawing a blank, he was floating and the only teather was your hand in his.

He knew he wanted to keep holding your hand. He knows your touch doesn't bother him like it should. He wants to steal a few more moments with you because these bus rides aren't enough time. Something he's never felt before.

"You're good. Take your time." You can't know what that means to him to hear you say that. To not pull your hand away and call him a freak for just grabbing you like that. Instead, you turn your palm over and give his hand a squeeze back.

"I want to...do that." He says it. With his eyes covered so he's not blinded by that smile on your face. He can hear it in your voice, the way you chuckle.

"Do what?"

"You know what I'm trying to say."

"Maybe. You better say it just so I can be sure." You're teasing him now, leaning forward so you can get a peek at his blushing face.

Craig huffs again, frustration building up in his chest. He moves the hat from his face and stares you down like a showdown. His brows knitted together with newfound determination.

"I want to build a connection past this." There. It's out. Out in the open, out in the space between the both of you. Confession falls from his mouth in that monotone voice he's so famous for.

"Hell yeah. I'd like that Space-Man Craig." You laugh and it sounds so sweet.

He smiles down at you, and it feels like a gift. It's the first time you've seen him look at you like that. You make a silent promise to yourself that it will not be the last time you see it.

"So, any idea where the bus is going now?"

"No idea. Wanna get off at the next stop and walk to campus?"

"Nope! You stopped me from going to class so now you're taking me out. I want food!"

Craig scoffs at you and takes the headphones off his neck, he offers you the other bud. He sticks the one in his ear and pulls out his phone. His fingers slide across the screen going for the music app. He hands you the phone and gestures for you to pick something.

You excitedly take him up on the offer, sticking the bud in your ear. You begin going on about whatever album you’ve been listening to, and the whole ride he sits and listens to you. Nodding along so you know he’s listening, not that he really has to. You can tell from the way he looks at you that you have his undivided attention.

So wrapped up in the music and your voice he doesn’t even notice the font on your wrist change. It’s not that boring clock anymore, it shifts and swirls around. A moving tattoo that eventually turns into a painting melting down your arm. The deep darkness of space with a little astronaut sitting on the moon, just watching the sun.

[himejoshiangels]

I fucking love we are robin they were so huddling in the back booth of the restaurant izzys family ran trying not to laugh while ordering, surfing on the tops of trains, learning how to treat a bullet wound crowding around the phone frantically collecting google searches, taking more hits than they were landing, listening to dax play shitty guitar in his garage while skipping classes, playing dnd in rikos basement, making snide comments while duke and dre argue again for the eighth time that day and watching duke try to resist dre bribing him with his cooking, being connect to someone you don't know halfway across town because they too know that with batman gone someone has to take care of this city someone has to do something and it might as well be you

[mothsimonpendragon]

I headcanon that Roxas and Xion legit thought they were dying the first time they got a brain freeze