#and it’s entirely possible sometimes things are Not For Or About You

[sometimesanalice]

California Dreaming

Summary: At sometime past 4am, the last thing you would have ever expected was to receive a call from Bradley Bradshaw. But time is a funny thing it feels like it might be running out.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: angst and a bit In-N-Out slander

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own!)

You’re pulled from the light sleep you’d just barely managed to slip into by the sound of your phone ringing.

Although you weren’t too sure if your mind was playing tricks on you again. And in that liminal space between awake and asleep, you didn’t trust yourself to know the different anymore. Sleep and you haven’t been on the best of terms over the couple of months, and you had the dark circles under your eyes to prove it.

Your boss had told you about the chatter he’d heard about a position opening up soon at the West Coast office. It was an opportunity that would be perfect for you, minus the fact it would involve uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. You still hadn’t given him an answer yet whether he should put you forward for it or not. But you’d taken to sleeping with your ringer on just in case you were needed for anything, not wanting to close the door completely. And you’d woken up in a panic more than once thinking you’d slept through an emergency call, only to see absolutely zero new notifications.

Just when think it might have been another stress induced fluke, it goes off again.

Bleary eyed, you scramble to reach it. Wanting to silence it to not wake up your boyfriend from his more-peaceful-than-yours slumber. Only half-consciously noting it’s sometime past 4 AM.

However, it’s the name splashed across the screen that makes your heart stop.

𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪

You sit straight up, the crisp white sheets your boyfriend preferred pooling around your waist.

“Bradley?” You don’t even remember hitting the green button before the phone was up to your ear. “Bradley? Are you ok?” The words come out a sleepy slur all jumbled together by your sluggish tongue.

He’d texted you when he landed back on US soil; a silly selfie with crinkled bag of McDonalds in his hand and the American flag in the background. It had made you grin like an idiot when your phone had lit up with it.

You knew that he had been called back to Top Gun, but that was as much as he’d been able to tell you.

With the time difference, it makes it the hour too early for you, but also too late for him. He should be asleep right now. But you know Bradley, he wouldn’t be calling right now unless it was about something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s late there,” Bradley apologizes. “Or early, I guess.”

Tired. He sounds so tired.

You didn’t doubt he was still probably fighting the jetlag that came with being in San Diego after living in Japan for the last year and a half. But it was the weariness in his tone that had you concerned.

“But you’re ok?” you press. You needed to hear it.

“I…” he pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, kid. Everything’s fine.”

You blow out a relieved breath, rubbing at your heavy eyes.

“Good. That’s good,” you nod, reassuringly. Not that he can see you.

He is safe. He is ok. That’s all that matters to you.

Jack groans your name. “Seriously?” The word drips of exasperation and annoyance.

You wince. Less at its sharpness, but more at the feeling like you can’t seem do anything right lately.

You and your boyfriend have been together a little over two years now. You have a comfortable life together in Boston, nice even. But you shook the snowglobe of your relationship when you’d first mentioned the possibility of a promotion and moving, and it still felt like you were waiting for the remainders of all those stirred up flakes to settle back down.

“Give me a minute, Bradley,” you whisper into the phone, “Don’t hang up.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not even sure he heard you.

You turn towards your boyfriend, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already rolled over away from you.

A literal cold shoulder.

Your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his back. It’s dark, but you could point out where every freckle is on him with bullseye precision. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he knew you as well.

Like when he’d bring you red roses, a flower you’ve never felt one way or another about. You’d tell yourself it’s the thought that counts, that it’s the gesture that matters. But for as many times as you’ve bought your favorite flowers yourself and displayed them on the coffee table in your shared living room, Jack has never once brought them home for you.

It made you wonder sometimes if he even truly wanted you, if he cared enough to pay attention. Or if he was just content in the fact that you’d be there.

And then you’d feel guilty for even thinking that in the first place.

But you didn’t just break up with someone over flowers.

Or the way he always seemed to make plans for you with his friends without ever asking you first. Or the way he was never more attentive to you until the two of you were in front of a group.

There’s a sliver of moonlight peeking through the edges of the blinds of your bedroom. A set of curtains would have solved the issue, but you’d never been able to get Jack on board. It was something you there thankful for now as you tiptoed out of the room with just enough light to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anything.

You ease the door gently closed behind you, feeling some of the tension melt from your body.

“Ok, I’m back,” you tell your best friend.

“I take it we woke up Jack?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, padding towards the black leather couch in the living room. You fight back the hiss that wants to be released when your bare thighs touch the ice-cold material. The October chill had a way of sneaking in everywhere. “He’s got a big pitch presentation on Friday,” you say, feeling like you need to explain, “So he’s just a bit on edge right now.”

Bradley makes a noncommittal sound, something close but not quite like a disapproving rumble. You distract yourself from reading into it too much by turning on the lamp on the side table to its lowest setting. A dim glow illuminating the living room.

“Tell me, how’s California?” It’s a pivot. You know you’re trying to smooth things over; you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

“Sunny.”

You snort and roll your eyes.

“It seems you left good jokes back in Japan,” you tease. You pull your knees up to your chest and reach for your favorite soft knit blanket, tucking it around you. “Be honest, how many things did you forget to pack this time?”

Bradley groans your name. This time you smile.

“I had to take scissors to my favorite pair of Levi’s, because I didn’t bring any shorts for the beach.”

Picturing the pained look on his face as he desecrated his favorite jeans nearly sends you into a fit a giggles. But out of respect for the fallen and your best friend’s feelings you press your lips together, the corners pulling up on their own.

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

“Is there someone who saw you in them that I could bribe for some new blackmail material?” you ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on anything truly juicy.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I looked damn good in them.”

This time you don’t hold back the laugh, only muffling it with a hand over your mouth when you realize that your boyfriend could probably hear you through the closed door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll make some space in my Bradshaw Blackmail folder in the meantime.” Bradley’s warm chuckle in your ear makes the room feel less cold. “So what else have you been up to?”

“We haven’t had a ton of down time, but I did hit up an In-N-Out with Natasha the other night.” That was a name you were familiar with. You’ve never met Bradley’s fellow aviator and friend, but you were happy he had someone with him there that he was close to. “It was the same one I took you to when you came to visit after I finished Top Gun the first time.”

It was a fluke of fate that you’d been sent to the West Coast office for some training around the time that Bradley was on leave before being sent back to his squadron. The overlap was only for a few days, but the two of you had made the most of it.

“Who knew you were such a sentimentalist?” You lean your head back against the couch.

“It’s the closest one to base,” he justifies, “Although, you’ll be happy to know their milkshakes are still trash.”

You grin. “Hey, I never said they were trash. That was all you, Bradshaw.”

You’ve only been there the once, but it had been fun getting to experience it with him for your first time. He’d ordered more than enough food for two people, making sure to get some of the more classic not-so-secret menu items for you to try. And the Neapolitan shake had been fine, but the ones from the ice cream shop in your hometown where Bradley had had his first job were much better.

“Your face said otherwise,” he bats back.

You hum noncommittally, not wanting to concede. It was more fun for you this way, even if he was right. Not to mention no one knows how to read your face better than Bradley does.

When you don’t argue, he continues, “There’s even a rumor going around that they might want to keep some of us around longer. Like they’d form a new squadron that would be stationed here.”

You perk up, “In San Diego? You could be there permanently?” Between his deployments and moving around from base to base, you don’t think he’s been in one place for more than two years since he went to UVA. “That would be amazing.”

“Yeah, it really would,” Bradley agrees, he sounds hopeful, “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

‘Hope for the best, but expect the worst’ was the motto he seemed to live by. He’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him more times than anyone else you knew.

The two of you are quiet for a moment.

You don’t want to push him into talking about whatever the reason is that he’s called so early in the morning. But no matter how many jokes you trade with him, it’s still in the forefront of your mind. And try as you might, you can’t shake that feeling of unsettledness that was resting heavily on your chest.  

Outside your living room window, the streetlights are bright against the dark sky.

You’ve told him more times than you could count that he could call you any time, but Bradley being Bradley has always made it a point to call during hours that were convenient for you, even if that meant he was still up at some ungodly hour.

But that was so him, always putting everyone else ahead of himself.

With the confidentiality that goes hand in hand with his job, you know he can’t talk about the specifics. It was something you were used to after nearly a decade of Naval service behind him.

You nibble on your lower lip, weighing your words.

“How’s it been with…” You trail off, but you know he knows who you’re referring to. You run a hand up and down your calf, trying to warm up quicker.

Mav? Pete? He’d been Captain Mitchell the last time you’d seen him back when you were in high school, you weren’t sure what his rank was now.

Mav has always been the number one topic on Bradley Bradshaw’s No Fly List. The few times you’ve dared to bring it up in the past had been shut down quicker than you think he could probably fly his jet.

Bradley told you last week in a text that had simply read He’s here. You didn’t even have to ask who he was. It had been just as much of a shock to you as you imagined it probably was for him seeing the man who had derailed his dreams when everything else in his world had already fallen apart.

It was a story you’d always thought there had been more to, but between the two of them you’d always be Team Bradley. That’s how it was supposed to be for best friends.

You can feel Bradley mulling over his answer. “It’s been… motivating.”

The way he says it you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And maybe he doesn’t even know himself.

You sit up straighter on the couch. “Oh?” you say, casually. Neutrally. Not wanting to let your inflection to color Bradley’s response.

Their reunion has been a long time coming, you just wished you could be there for him with this the way he’s always been there for you. Not just on the phone, but there by his side.

Bradley sighs again, it’s heavier this time. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s probably roughly running his hand down his face, the way he always does when he’s really, truly frustrated. Like he’s trying to free those too big feelings from trapped beneath his skin.

“I’m flying with him for the first time in my career. I want him to see why I’m here. I want to show him.” The anger, the hurt rings though loud and clear. But so does the determination. “These patches I’ve been called back are the best of the best that there is. And I’m one of them, kid. And I got here on my own, without him.”

You wait to see if he is going to continue or not, wanting to give him the space to talk through his feelings, but he’s gone quiet again.

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Bradley.”

“It was all I ever wanted,” he says, his voice rough, “To be like them.”

Like Mav. Like Ice. Like his dad.

You’d been there for the fallout. He’d been crushed when he didn’t get to go to the Academy, the self-destruction that followed had been hard to watch. You’d seen the way he had to pick up the pieces of his life. The way the boy had quickly had to become a man. Every choice Bradley has made since then has been with one purpose in mind.

He’d set out to be a Naval aviator and he’d achieved it.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” you say, softly.  “I know I am.”

You imagine Mav is proud too, but you don’t say that part out loud.

After all, he practically helped raise Bradley- in his own way.  Always calling whenever he could. Sending presents. Spending his leave time with the Bradshaws. They’d been a family.

“Sometimes-” Bradley cuts himself off, trying to collect his thoughts. You can almost feel the tormented whirlwind of them through the phone. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “There are moments, when I see him fly- it’s crazy shit that no one but him can do- and I forget. Just for a second. But then I remember and it’s like I’m eighteen and feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut all over again.”

Your stomach twists in the same way it always does when you’re reminded of that rough period in time when the two of you were just teens. And now that you’re older, your ache even more for the boy whose whole world was so turned upside down by the one person he thought would never let him down.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

It’s times like this where you can feel every mile between the two of you. Every inch of space in your long-distance friendship. And it chafes at you that all you can be is an ear for him to vent to rather than a shoulder for him to lean on.

“There’s no version of this where it wasn’t going to be tough. And I don’t think you trying to brush off who he was to you, like none of that mattered, is going to make this any easier for you,” you tell him. “Not with the history the two of you have. And you can’t punish yourself for having feelings about it.”

“I told him no one would mourn him if he burned in.” He all but blurts it out.

Your suck in sharp breath and you shake your head in disbelief, “Bradley, you didn’t.” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice.

You know there’s an unspoken code of conduct between aviators from the things you’ve picked up from the way he’s talked about his career and fellow Naval officers over the years. That when everyone’s lives are so dependent on each other to look out for one another, there were certain things you didn’t joke about. Things you didn’t throw around, not even in the heat of a moment.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You don’t know what to say to him. It’s silent in your darkened living room. The only sound is of his affected breathing over the phone.

You can’t keep dancing around things with him anymore tonight. He cracked open the door, but now you’re the one pushing through it.

“Bradley, what happened?”

His voice is strained when he speaks again, “We had a couple accidents during training a few days ago- no one was hurt.” He is quick to clarify, and you know it’s for your benefit. “It was a bird strike and they had to eject, but they were cleared to fly the next morning.” It hits too close to home all the same. You don’t worry about anyone the way you worry about Bradley. “Mav found me in the Ready Room later that night, and it was just the two of us alone for the first time since everything happened. He was talking to me like I was the kid he’d helped raise, instead of the one he’d fucked over. And then all that anger came rushing back. So I did what I always seem to do, I went for all the things that I knew would hurt him the most.”

You squeeze your eyes tight in sympathy. You’ve been on the receiving end of Bradley’s sharp tongue before. You’ve never held it against him, but you’ve also never forgotten the way his words sliced straight through you.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

The guilt in his voice is unmistakable and it's a confession you can tell that takes a lot out of him. No one holds on to regrets- or grudges- like he does. Even if the one he’s holding it against is himself. You know this is going to be something he’ll carry around with him for a long time to come.

But it is the way he stumbles over the mention of Carole that cracks your heart open.

You had grown up adoring her. She’d been lightning in a bottle. Her smile was always the brightest in the room, and her laughter always made people stop to look wanting to be in on the joke too. There was no one quite like her.

And after she died, you’d mourned that loss too. You still carried the evidence of that love with the scar issue on your heart. But for Bradley, that was a wound that no amount of time would ever fully heal for him. Forever a reminder of who wasn’t there.

He’d already lost so much. First, his dad. Then his mom. And now with his uncle.

Bradley had told you about Ice and his passing. You knew they had come to an understanding in the after of everything. It was a relationship held together by a monthly phone call or two, and a dinner invite whenever Bradley was in town. He’d called you during one of his breaks on the morning he found out, troubled because he didn’t know he’d even been sick.

Just more time missed with someone who had meant something to him.

You didn’t want him to regret saying those harsh words without the chance to make amends. You didn’t want him to miss out on any more time with people who wanted to be there for him. You didn’t want him to shoulder around that pain and resentment anymore. A decade and a half of it was more than enough to carry that around. You didn’t want him to forever push away the one person who probably cared for him just as much as you did.

“So apologize,” you gently urge him. “Talk to Mav and apologize. For him and for you.”

He sighs, heavily, “It’s not that simple.”

Gone is the quiet girl in her dark living room. You want him to hear you. “It really is though, Bradley. Tell him. Pull him aside after class or get there early. Or take him to that bar on the beach you told me about and buy him a beer. Don’t let this be a thing you can’t take back. You can still apologize.”

“I-I don’t think I can. There’s not enough time for that now.” His words are stilted.

You feel your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “Aren’t you guys there for a couple more weeks?” He doesn’t answer you right away and you feel a chill drift across you, even under your blanket. “Does that mean you’re shipping out soon?”

“It’s why I called.” There’s something more serious in his tone, you’re talking to the Naval officer now. “We got the orders, we ship out tomorrow. Or later today, technically.”

There’s a swooping sensation in your stomach and it feels like the floor has fallen out beneath your feet.

“Goddamn it, Bradshaw. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice wavers.

“I know, I probably should have.” At least he has the good sense to admit it. “I just wanted to talk to you, like normal. Although we didn’t get very far before I derailed the conversation,” he says, self-deprecatingly. “Do you think you can give me a few more minutes of normal, kid?”

You know there’s not much you can ask, and even less than he can tell you. You’re surprised you even allowed to know this much.

But you don’t need a dossier of confidential government information to tell you that whatever he’s being sent to do is dangerous, because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw. You’d known something was off from the very moment you’d seen his name lighting up your phone.

You don’t want him to feel your anxiousness, you don’t want to add to whatever else he’s currently going through. Bradley called you because he wants to let his mind relax. So if he wants normal, you can give him normal. You can give him as much as he wants, as much as he needs.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your beach shorts.”

Bradley huffs a soft laugh, “No, you’re not.”

“You know,” you muse, fighting to keep your tone light and airy, “I haven't played hooky in a while and I have some miles to use before the end of the year.”

“You want to come out here?” The suggestion works just like you hoped it would, he sounds less troubled than before.

“I could use some Vitamin D and a milkshake. Do you know a good place to make it worth my while?”

“I might. It depends on your opinion is about Neapolitan shakes though.” Your nose scrunches up on its own. “Are you making that face, kid?”

“No,” you reply too quickly.

“Liar.”

You smile to yourself. “I’ll even let you pick me up from the airport and you can finally show me that Bronco of yours in person. It only seems fair that I get to see what all the hubbub is about after I’ve spent hours letting you talk my ear off about it: V8 engine this and four-speed manual transmission that.” You do your best Bradley impersonation and earn an amused scoff from him.

He’d bought it right before he’d been sent to Japan. Ice and his wife had been looking after it for him while he was away. Bradley had even documented his reunion with it after landing back on US soil by sending you a video of it with him humming the Peaches & Herb song in the background.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bradley says. You think he might be smiling too.

It’s all to easy for you to slip into a normal conversation with him. He asks about your mom and stepdad. You don’t mention the possible promotion, but instead tell him about the passive aggressive microwave fish debacle that plagued the entire floor for days.

The two of you talk about nothing in a way that feels like everything. And every chuckle you pull out of him feels like a victory. Your tired eyes flutter shut on their own, with them closed you can almost pretend he’s sitting right next to you, until a yawn slips out of you without your permission.

“It’s getting late, I should let you go.”

You want to keep talking to him, but you can imagine the circles that have already formed under his eyes over the last few days. “You should get your sleep. Rest up, because we have big milkshake plans…and you’re not allowed to stand me up. Got it, Bradshaw?”

“I hear you,” he promises. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back, kid.”

“No promises.” You feel your lower lip wobble.

“Atta girl.”

You laugh. It sounds a little watery to your own ears, but you hope he doesn’t hear it. You’re grateful he didn’t choose to FaceTime you. It’s probably for the best he can’t see your face, you’ve never been a very good poker player.

“Be safe, Bradley.”

You’ve already decided that you’ll let him be the one to hang up first. You didn’t have it in you to hit the red button before he did.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”

“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.

You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.

“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

“Ok. Ok, good,” Bradley says. He lets out a slow breath. “See you soon for milkshakes, kid.”

“See you soon.” It comes out a reedy whisper.

You stay on the line until he hangs up.

And only when the screen goes black do you allow yourself to give into the emotions that had been surging up inside of you.

With the corner of your blanket, you wipe at the tears that are making hot tracks down your cheeks. There’s a hollowness that has settled in your chest that you don’t think will go away until he tells you when to book your ticket to come and see him.

It doesn’t matter that you remind yourself that he is one of the best at he does. Or that you know he’ll be with other people who are just as good as he is. In all the years he’s been in the Navy, you’ve never once heard him sound that unsure before, and it’s rattled you.

It’s not that you didn’t know there was risk every time he sat in the cockpit of his fighter jet, even if it was just to train. But this was the first time it’s ever felt like he was preparing you for the possibility that you might never see or hear from him again.

You didn’t want to imagine a world with Bradley Bradshaw in it.

He’s never once broken a promise with you, and he wasn’t allowed to start now.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the dark with only your feelings and the sound of the clock on the wall for company.

Your eyes drift towards the closed bedroom door, where you’re sure Jack is sleeping unbothered on a soft mattress between stark white sheets.

It hits you then that he hadn’t come to check on you.

It’s still just as dark outside. Only the little lamp next to the couch offers any light, as you look around your living room.

You’d liked all the exposed brick when you’d first moved in, had imagined all the ways you could soften the apartment with things to make it more cozy for you and your boyfriend. More like the two of you.

But the books on the bookcase had been carefully chosen to fit a neutral color palette, while all your favorites had been moved to the smaller one in the office. Their colorful covers hidden away. The spot where you thought some kind of landscape painting could have gone, had a photograph of a sepia-toned city hanging there instead. It was still art, but it was the kind of thing that had been made to disappear into the background.

You keep waiting to see a piece of yourself reflected in the room, some mark of you that had been left behind in the home you live in, but other than the black and white striped rug that had been too good of a deal to pass up on at a store with a no return policy, none could be found. You didn’t see any of yourself there at all.

You thought that you’d been making compromises, but it’s dawning on you that all along really what you’ve been doing is making concessions. A one-sided partnership. When all you ever wanted was to share a life with someone.

Earlier you found yourself making excuses to Bradley, but now it felt like something you weren’t sure you wanted to look past.

You are tired.

And not because it’s sometime around 5 AM now. You’re already well past the start of a new day.

You’re tired of being the one to trying to make something work.

You’re tired of being the one who always makes a genuine effort.

You’re tired of red roses.

Maybe people did end relationships over flowers. Or the art on the walls.

Grabbing your phone, you open your email ignoring all the messages that are already waiting for you, and start typing out a message. When you’re done, you read it over a couple of time before sending it off to your boss. The whoosh that follows as it bounces off the exposed brick in the quiet living room feels like progress.

You didn’t want to miss out on any more time either.

Not with the people who mattered the most to you. The people you mattered the most to.

Leaning over the arm of the couch you turn off the lamp and stretch out to get comfortable on the cushions underneath you. You tuck a throw pillow under your head and drape the blanket over you.

From this angle, you can almost pretend the city lights look like stars.

Your alarm is already set, and if you’re lucky you can doze a bit longer before it will go off all too soon.

But it’ll ok if sleep doesn’t find you.

You’re already California dreaming.

Who gave me permission to do this to myself?! Oh my heart. Don't mind me, I'm just in my angsty era. Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

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[dragonpyre]

Touch starvation is a very real thing.

The post where you asked about it felt pretty flowery/easy to interpret as exaggeration and I thought giving you some entirely factual examples might help convey what it's like without that ambiguity. Gonna try not to make this into me venting in your inbox, I know how unpleasant that shit is, and I'm doing better now so please don't feel like you've got to comfort the anon stranger here! I promise I am fine and will continue to be okay, I have better life circumstances now *pretend I could put a thumbs up thingy here lol*

So anyhow here's the description part: There was no one to touch me and prove that I existed, so I dissociated a lot. Extreme pressure and/or light impact overlapped with what I actually needed just enough that I could kinda get by on that sometimes. I used to wake up every day to my whole body aching because I'd been unconsciously seeking touch in my sleep by pushing myself against the wall and my pillows over and over again. There was a deep desire to be violently ripped apart, because gentle touch was out of reach and I was overwhelmed by constant unfulfilled need.

Like the post says, actual touch becomes very overwhelming. The one time I actually got to hold someone to sleep, I couldn't actually sleep, it was just too much, something like a positive version of fear, a kind of emotional adrenaline-shivering, good but utterly exhausting and with that same sense of being emotionally high strung like a wire tensed to the point of snapping.

That might be called excitement?? My autistic ass does not have the ability to identify emotions that well lmao, but it was for sure a whole heck of a lot of something or other, and the only possibility of sleep would have been moving away to another room.

It's worth keeping in mind that most people won't ever experience it this intensely. Plenty of people get hungry, fewer have experienced actual starvation, and there's always some people who don't feel hunger much at all no matter the circumstances. So it goes for the desire to be touched too.

All this to say that yes, for many people skin to skin contact is a need like sleep is a need and if we go without it for long enough (months, years, decades) we fall apart.

I legit thought people were just exaggerating this stuff. I’m touch averse 24/7 and have never desired physical touch in my life so it’s strange (for me) to see that this is smth that actually legit affects people

[danieyells]

Re: Towa's voicelines

@disassociationdive

I can go into that a little bit sure lol NOT SO MUCH CONSPIRACY THEORIES AS OBSERVATIONS BUT LET'S START WITH ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS YOU CAN LEARN ABOUT TOWA.

What do you mean we don't know his blood type.

They run health checks on everyone and you're telling me in the year he's been here they somehow haven't found out? They have everyone else's bloodtypes, firstyears included, but Towa's is unknown?? If anyone else had an unstated blood type it'd be a little less suspicious but like. . . .

Next, his stigma. He controls weather. That's like six powers in practice? I know he has an incantation because he has an audio clip of it in the files, but he uses it exclusively in his head so far and. . .i find it hard to believe he's always reciting it when it responds to his emotions? Like his instinctive response to any minor irritation is to recite his stigma in his head? Maybe that's just me but it seems unlikely?

He's also constantly running around and using it even in casual situations. The only other person who uses their stigma that much is Leo and that's because he's using it to spy on people. Towa just silently changes the weather for fun and because he's been angered or offended or Haru was hurt or Ren was mildly irritating or whatever. He causes whole snowstorms and lightning and rain showers at the drop of a hat. Most people don't even realize he's doing it and just blame the weird weather!

Not to mention that when he was gone for more than a day Jabberwock's nature was suddenly in chaos??? The waters dried up, the sky was dark, he's the only thing keeping that place kind of temperate.

So his control of weather understandably makes anomalies obey him--animals know not to fuck with nature. But in the undersea palace the anomalies didn't know that, he just. . . .

Jin would be jealous at how easily things just do what Towa tells them to. He just MAKES THEM SO INTIMIDATED THEY KNEEL BEFORE HIM AND STAY OUT OF HIS WAY. Young anomalies like Peekaboo and Calamari don't even need him to do anything around them before they feel scared of him--just having him nearby stresses them out sometimes afair? That's not him using his stigma. That's just him. Anomalies are just obedient to him and scared of him. Considering the weather responds to his emotions it's entirely possible the entire island anomaly Darkwick is on is scared of him and just changes patterns if he gets upset to try and get rid of his problems.

Speaking of the undersea palace, why can he smell Haru? Maybe I'm misremembering but even Taiga, the guy who eats people, never seems to suggest he has any scent awareness of them? Also they're underwater, several hallways away??? But he still smells him?????

And he just follows Haru's scent to him, down the halls, under the sea. . . .

Next. . .Towa's total lack of regard for the lives and wellbeing of others. When told that people went missing in a way that says they're almost definitely dead, he was happy. Haru had to tell him, no that's a bad thing. Based on his expression I'm not entirely sure he agrees.

Towa is clearly capable of self-determination. He has no problem whatsoever doing things without instruction. But if he doesn't want to do something he needs to be given an explanation he likes to comply. Even if it means saving the life of someone he cares about. You beg him with tears in your eyes to save everyone and he still thinks about it before deciding he'll do it. Even though he's the one who told you to ask him.

TRY GROVELING HARDER. HE LIKES IT WHEN THEY BEG. it has the feeling of 'i'll grant your wish but you have to wish for it' y'know? like a demon? remember when Taiga showed you his demon impression and did something similar?

Another thing relating to the wellbeing of people he enjoys. . .he adores Haru. He electrocutes animals that even remotely offend Haru let alone hurt him.

Also, he handles Haru with 0 delicacy despite his broken leg.

And when you're in the water and he sees Haru and wants to rescue him he drags you back under the water with 0 warning.

Another thing displayed there and that he mentions in his home screen lines. . .he can see near perfectly in the dark? That water is pitch black, you cannot see Haru down there, but he can.

The last thing is. . .he speak to animals and plants? He already has like three other powers--he can 1. see in the dark; 2. control weather and electricity(even able to use his ability UNDER WATER, making what I think was a cyclone that was so fast and sharp it started to cut apart anything caught in it? May have been astonishingly controlled lightning though. I assume his near-flight jumps are controlling the wind to carry him higher up and he can't also almost fly); and 3. anomalies are so intimidated by him even when he can't electrocute them that they obey him and kneel at his feet!--but on top of that he can also understand any living thing that isn't a human? Like he is the only one who's exhibited the ability to understand what plants and animals say. Haru even knows and says 'you're the only one who can do this, ask the Kraken for help'.

In his voicelines he mentions the tree telling him something about it waiting for a long time and crying. And he cries and hugs the tree too--he's more affected by the emotions of a tree than the wellbeing of his loved ones lmao

The tree must be connected to something important. Of note, the background with this particular tree is called "kibou" in the files. "Kibou" can mean either "hope/wish/aspiration" or "ruse/trick/deception" depending on the kanji used. the positive meaning of 'hope' is more common i think--but I wonder if the double meaning is intentional? maybe i'm reading into it too much.

apparently Towa spends a lot of time on this hill--to the point that he didn't go to the assembly where you were introduced. I assume he spends a lot of time talking to this tree. Maybe the tree knows what's going on too. Towa could be helping by way of the tree. . .but the tree could also be evil. Maybe someday we'll learn. Speaking of him not going to the assembly, when Haru mentions that you were there, Towa acts like he knows this, but Haru says he was on the hill and didn't attend. Towa proceeds to look confused, like it doesn't sound right to him that he wasn't there or wouldn't have had that information. Maybe the tree told him? Maybe he remembers things from other timelines too, like Taiga might???

The one thing that's suspicious but also not thanks to that Taiga's also got an inhuman feature is that his pupils are a non-human shape. They look more like goat or octopus eyes than human eyes(most likely meant to be goat since he eats so many flowers.) But since Taiga's got big pointy teeth for chompin' that may not be an issue. I don't think Taiga's suspicious for having inhuman features, so Towa's eyes don't really make me feel like they're a huge point of suspicion--aside from that they add suspicion when combined with everything else ofc.

SO THE TL;DR REASONS I FIND HIM SUSPICIOUS ARE LARGELY BECAUSE HE HAS AN IMBALANCED AMOUNT OF ABILITIES AND THEY AREN'T EVEN RELATED TO HIS ARTIFACT--AND THOSE ABILITIES ARE RELATED TO NATURE AND ANOMALIES. . .WHICH MAKE ME THINK HE'S NOT ACTUALLY A GHOUL, HE'S MORE OF A NATURAL ENTITY OR A DEMON OR SOMETHING. And perhaps his communication with plants and anomalies and animals is him communicating with who or whatever he's spying for--he might be able to pass along information that way.

A lot of it could be chalked up to mental illness just unique personality of course. But that doesn't explain why he's halfway to being nature incarnate.

Kaito is more believably suspicious imo because he exhibits connection to other aspects of the world in a somewhat suspicious way but like. . .Towa seems imbalanced in terms of power and abilities compared to everyone else. Everybody else gets one power and an artifact. Towa's got like 5, not including the bubble wand. And a lot of them are connected to nature.

However one could argue that his wish was to be closer to nature--and the demon took his ability to speak during the day(and perhaps took most of his empathy) in exchange for the ability to communicate with animals and plants. This is really very likely when you think about it. But it doesn't explain a few other things. Maybe he made multiple pacts or swallowed multiple demons? It'd be nice to learn someday.

Now to be fair!!! Moby, one of your teachers, is a humanoid tentacle horror anomaly who doesn't have human features so his facial expressions have to be portrayed via screen! So it's possible that Towa isn't a ghoul, he's a humanoid anomaly and he's allowed to be with the ghoul students instead and nobody explained that he's not an ex-human like everybody else--nobody seemed surprised by Professor Moby's apperance so 'anomalies as members of society' are probably somewhat normal at least by the time you're a second year. But. . .just. . .seems shady to me. Which is not a complaint i love shady characters and villains lol

BUT YEAH THOSE ARE MY LITTLE OBSERVATIONS ABOUT TOWA THAT MAKE ME SUSPECT THAT HEY MAYBE HE'S NOT HUMAN MAYBE SOMETHING'S UP. But also, thanks to the nature of that things here are anomalous to begin with, it's hard to say that these are for sure something to be suspicious over. Towa could just be insanely powerful. Maybe the demon he made a deal with was high ranking or something. Who knows. I really hope the game lasts long enough for us to find out lmao

[suplicyy]

this is really specific but haikyuu characters reacting to the reader sticking different flowers in their hair throughout the entire school day!!

A Flower for my Lover

Summary — Haikyuu characters reacting to you putting flowers in their hair at school.

Characters — Kuroo, Daichi, Ushijima, Suna, Hajime, Hinata.

— Fluff

— Gn!Reader

You're in the school's botany club, and recently you've been secretly picked up some flowers from your club for one purpose: put flowers in your loved one's hair at any time at school.

And this has been going on for almost a week, and it looks like you won't get tired of making this strangely affectionate gesture anytime soon...

Kuroo Tetsuro

The first time you did this he was confused, but soon after he joined in too!

The first few times he was taken by surprise and couldn't react, but as time went by he started to lightly tease you about the act.

If you are short, he would raise his head as high as he could so you wouldn't reach him, while laughing at your irritated face because of his teasing.

But don't worry about this!! Kuroo actually loves it when you put random flowers on his hair by surprise.

He would also pick some smaller flowers from the grass, and try to do the same to you.

By the end of the day you would both be laughing as you look at each other's flower-filled hair.

Daichi Sawamura

The first time you did this, he didn't even realize there was something in his hair.

He only realized it when he entered the gym and his teammates were laughing and teasing him.

And at that moment Daichi already knew who was responsible for putting this little flower on his head.

He knows he can't resist because he knows you won't stop, so he just accepts the situation with a laugh.

But what you didn't expect was that the next day he would show up at your door with a bouquet of flowers for you. <3

He approaches you as he takes one of the flowers present in the bouquet, and places one behind your ear, looking passionately at you.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

He really didn't understand why you were doing this.

You thought that when you put a flower in his hair he would express some emotion, but all you got was the same dull expression as always.

I think Ushijima would say something like "That's childish."

You would have thought he didn't like it if you hadn't seen his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

He wouldn't protest if you kept doing that (Deep down he likes you doing this, but he would never admit it out loud.)

He doesn't really understand why you were doing this all the time, but if it makes you happy he would keep letting you do it.

Rintaro Suna

He would be the type of person who is too jaded to protest to things like that, so he just accepts the situation.

But I think Suna would find your gesture cute to be honest.

When he wasn't training, he would always stay close to you, as if he were your shadow. So putting flowers in his hair would be a pretty easy task.

Sometimes he would take a photo of himself and post it on his story, tagging you in the corner of the image along with a song that reminds him of you!!

And he would do the same to you, putting flowers in your hair and taking a picture of you, always reminding you how beautiful you are.

Hajime Iwaizumi

Just like Daichi, he also wouldn't realize he has flowers in his hair. With you hugging him so lovingly like that, how would he imagine that you were putting flowers in his hair without him knowing?

He would only realize that something was wrong when Oikawa and the other third years started laughing in his face.

But after throwing a ball in their head, they didn't have the courage to say anything else after that.

Initially, Iwa thought you did it for the purpose of mocking him, but when he notices how sweetly you're looking at him, he dismisses that possibility.

With a blush on his cheeks, he lets you continue to style his hair with the flowers, but don't expect him to keep them in his hair all day.

Hinata Shoyo

He sure would be a blushing mess.

And him being short is a great advantage for you, as you can put flowers in his hair more easily.

At first Hinata would be shy, but as time went by he would start laughing at the situation along with you!

If he saw any flowers on the way to school, he would pick them up and secretly keep them from you.

And the moment you were distracted... flowers would be all over your hair, just like you do with it!!

His happy smile when he sees that you fell for your own prank is certainly priceless.

A/N — Hellooo, tysm for your request!!

You told me to do it with "Haikyuu characters" , but that description is very vague since there are MANY characters...😭

So I put all the characters I could remember in a roulette wheel and chose 6 of them, and the result was the ones that appeared here!! So I'm sorry if there's a character that you don't like. 💔💔

[hurlingdown]

ur zoro fic was so good omfg ftm bratty ace x ftm dom reader?? I need him So bad

make me feel good (dom top trans!male reader, nsfw)

tags: ftm!brat!ace turned pillow princess, breeding kink, wet & messy, riding, double ended strap-on, it vibrates goddammit, strap referred to as cock sometimes, bit of hurt/comfort, imaginary creampie, holy shit they're fr about making babies, this is filthy and i love it

Ace squirmed on your thick dildo, soaked cunt pulsing around it as he struggled to balance on your lap. At the additional weight, the protruding toy on the other end of the strap-on slipped deeper past your folds, making you shiver. 

“Y-you said you’d finally let me top, you fucker!” he gasped, eyes teary with contempt. “For once!” 

“To be fair, you are on top,” you muttered absent-mindedly, distracted by the way his slick dripped down the remaining inches of your cock that he couldn’t take in one go. His nails dug into your shoulders as he let out a loud whine, demanding your attention. 

“Not like this!” Ace moaned, and despite his protests, his hips had started to roll against the toy, trying to take more of it inside him. “Want to—make you feel good too, it’s not always about me—” 

“I feel good too. And seeing you feel good makes me feel good,” you told him truthfully, planting your hands on his waist as you guided him down your cock, thumbs pressing gentle circles into his skin to soothe him. “Besides, I wanted to try using this. The vendor said it vibrated.” 

His eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and something more. “This thing vibrates?” 

“Yeah—there’s the remote. Hngh, fuck, don’t move so suddenly.” Ace jerked in your lap to grab the remote in your hands, making the small toy inside you shift. Feeling emboldened by your reaction, he harshly rocked his hips downwards with a keen, fully seated on your lap now. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling. 

You frowned. “Shit, do you need more lube? Did I stretch you out enough? Does it hurt?” you asked worriedly as he shook his head, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of a fat cock pushing past his entrance and rearranging his insides.  

“No. No, just start moving.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes! I’m getting bored, so move!” 

You held in a scoff at his poor attempt to rile you up. How typical of him. 

“You’re sitting on top of me, firecracker. How d’you want me to move?” 

Ace opened his mouth to argue, but then promptly froze, flushing as he realised his position. He was still unused to the one being on top—usually it was him with his face pressed down into the sheets and ass up to the heavens, you pounding so sweetly into his pussy from behind as he cried out your name. 

Tiny crimson flames erupted from his skin and he scowled, embarrassed. “I knew that.” 

“Yeah. Of course.” You looked at him, his thighs trembling as his cunt clenched around the dildo, sitting there like a whiny brat that just got told off. “Darling,” you murmured, taking his hands into your own, to which he swatted away. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to!” 

Ace scowled, raising his head to look at you, and you saw the tremble of the wet sheen in his dark eyes. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, confidently, and you stifled a smile. 

“Sure.” If you can. 

You gave his hips an encouraging squeeze as he began to lift himself. His thighs were already spasming with the effort, and he let out a soft gasp, head falling forward to knock against your shoulder—unintentionally giving himself the best angle possible. 

He held in his breath as more and more of the toy was exposed, and he clenched around it experimentally, watching as globs of lube mixed with his slick were pushed out with a squelch. He was stretched so, so impossibly wide around you, and it was obscene. 

“Ace. Relax. Just a little more.” 

“I—fucking know, hah, dammit! You’re not the one—taking this fat cock,” he whimpered, shivering and gasping softly as the entire length of the dildo was revealed, the plump tip rubbing against his folds. “Gonna—gonna move now. So brace yourself.” 

Without waiting for your response, he suddenly relaxed his taut thighs, letting gravity drop him on your cock, slamming himself down all the way in one go—and he threw his head back, letting out a garbled moan as his eyes crossed. It was so fucking deep inside him, even deeper than before, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from making any noise, blessed by the erotic sight on your lap and the fact that the toy inside you was pressing at a new angle that had you clenching around it. 

“So good, babe,” you mumbled. “You’re doing so great.” 

Ace didn’t respond, and your eyes trained onto his exposed Adam's apple as it bobbed. 

“Ace?” 

The fingers gripping your shoulders trembled with effort to hold himself still as Ace took in a shaky breath through his teeth. As you saw the glistening of tears down the side of his cheeks, you knew something was wrong. 

“Shit, you okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” he managed weakly. 

“You sure you’re alright? We can stop if you want—” 

“I’m—fine. Stop asking to stop—f-fuck, do you not want me anymore?” he whimpered, wet eyes finally gazing at you with hurt and scorn as tears started to roll down his face. “Is that it? Did you get tired of me ‘cause you don’t feel good when we fuck?” 

So that was why he was so insistent on topping you. 

“No,” you sighed, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s nothing like that, love. I was just worried about hurting you.” 

“Oh.” He visibly flushed from the kiss, trying to bite down a smile at the relief that flooded him. 

“And again. Your ‘good’ is my good. So stop worrying and feel good for me.” 

“But you won’t feel as good as I—” 

You kissed him, muffling any other protests. “I swear on my life, I do.” 

“Fine,” Ace huffed. “But you could never hurt me—it’d be my choice if that ever happened.” He turned his head to the side with a blush, averting your heated gaze. You were smirking, ideas rushing through your mind that you would indulge in the next time the two of you had sex: spanking, overstimulation, edging, bondage— “You’re an infuriating sap and I absolutely despise you.” 

“Yeah? You seem to love my cock, though.” 

Hot flames flickered up over his skin as his eyes snapped back to you in surprise. They hesitantly travelled down, and further down—to his drenched pussy impaled on the huge dildo, his stomach paunchy with the sheer size of it taking up all the space. He let out a breathy whine, as though just realising that your dick was still shoved deep inside him. 

He had sworn he could do it, but the truth is—he couldn’t. Not now—not like this. 

“Want me to take control?” 

“Fuck, yes, please,” Ace whispered, words burning with need. 

Satisfied by the enthusiastic consent, you slowly lowered him onto the mattress, whispering encouragement and sweet nothings to get him to relax. He rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to wipe away his tears. 

You picked up the vibrator remote that he had dropped somewhere, feeling his eager eyes dig into you. Meeting his gaze with a heated one of your own, you set it to a low level, shakily inhaling. As you began to grind your hips against him, he whimpered at the sensation, slick gushing out with each thrust of the dildo, wetting the bed. 

And it was so good for you, too, the toy rubbing and vibrating intensely inside your hole, sending the most delicious quivers down the back of your spine. This was heaven—you couldn’t even fathom why he would think otherwise. 

“More,” he demanded with a whiny tone. 

“How much more?” 

“Go a level higher—I can take it.” 

You decided to take pity on him, as he had got so overwhelmed and cried earlier. Ace never cried. Not in a scenario like this, with bad thoughts crowding his brain instead of how good you were making him feel, thinking of something so absurd—that you didn’t want him anymore. 

Adjusting the level of the vibration to his wishes, you groaned as pleasure surged through your abdomen. You took a moment to dwell in it, imagining the dildo was your own cock, and his pussy was milking you with every rut into tight heat, making him feel so good he’d grip you with his cunt—refusing to let you leave until you bred him full of your seed. 

You almost came from that thought alone. What a sight it would be, seeing him round with your children, the product of your love and sin. 

“What—what are you thinkin’ about?” Ace slurred, drunk on pleasure as he let out breathy moans and whines. “Focus on—me!” 

“My bad,” you chuckled, leaning down to kiss him as an apology, while your hips sped up to fuck him harder and faster. “You f-feel so good, baby.” 

His cheeks went pink, almost shy, a godsent complement to the brown stars that scattered across his attractive face. He dug his face into the sheets to hide his expression from you, panting heavily as he’s bodily dragged onto your cock, only to have it plunge out and ram into him again. “I, ha—AH!” he wailed at a particularly hard thrust, “I do?” 

“Yeah—you’re so fucking tight, I wanna come inside you real bad.” 

“Oh shit,” Ace breathed, eyes growing wide and almost feral. Dirty talk was common between the two of you during sex, but this was new territory. “Fuck, yeah, do it, please—” he begged, eyes tearing up again and shuddering at the prospect of you impregnating him, “I wanna—wanna have your, hnngh, babies!” 

“How—how many?” 

“We’ll think about that, ah, later—” 

“Daughter or son?” 

“Not now! Wait, a son would be nice, he’d be handsome like you—”

“I want a daughter, though.” 

“Then I’ll give you both!” he swore loudly, pussy tightening around your dildo, a sign that he was close. “Babe, fuck, I think I’m gonna—gonna come—!” 

“Yeah? Come for me. You’re so—good, so fucking good.” You turned the remote to the maximum level, feeling the vigorous vibrations bleed into the tender parts of your cunt and moaning shamelessly, though not allowing the pleasure to stop you from picking up pace, hitting a certain spot within Ace that made his toes curl, making sure that he felt as good as you did. 

You needn't have worried, though—Ace was shaking, crying, and the mess between his legs was filthy and mouth-watering, milk-white slick leaking out of his pussy in copious amounts, showing just how damn good you made him feel. 

“Fuck your—kids into me, please—” he begged, spreading his legs wider to accommodate your messy thrusts. “Want them so bad—!” 

You could feel yourself tethering on the verge of wanting to come so badly you would die and edging yourself, eyes rolling back as you thrusted blindly into his sopping hole, one thumb pressed onto his clit to rub, hard—and Ace came all over your cock with a throaty scream of your name, clenching so tightly around your dildo that you could almost feel it—making the toy inside you gouging into that same fucking spot, and you cry out, orgasming. 

“F-fuuuck,” you panted, pulling out and collapsing on top of Ace, the action making ungodly amounts of slick and come leak out from his cunt, completely drenching his thighs. 

He was still coming down from the life-shattering climax he just experienced, body trembling as his leg muscles spasmed and jumped involuntarily. A hand slowly carded through your hair, pressing your cheek against his muscular chest, letting you feel his heart run a marathon for you. 

You laid there for several minutes, basking in the afterglow, before he finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “About… the children,” Ace muttered, frowning. He had paused, as though he wanted to say our children and not the children. “It isn’t biologically possible, you dolt. Both of us—aren’t. That.” 

“Sperm donors exist.” 

“Don’t want it if it’s not yours. And—I want them to look like you, too.” 

You stomped down the blush that crept onto your cheeks, smiling like a fool. “Then we’ll just have to find a devil fruit that can help us.” 

“Oh.” He smiled back, finally, before puckering up his lips to ask for a kiss, to which you happily obliged. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you pressed your pounding heart to his own, letting him know exactly how good he had been making you feel, all along. 

p.s. thank you anon for praising my zoro fic; i hope this satisfied you as well :)

[yandere-paramour]

How would the yanderes react to their darling being a very sensitive person? Sensitivity can go both ways, physical and personality wise. Like if someone even looks at them wrong they just start bawling their eyes out. And if someone touches them anywhere in the lightest way possible, their whole body jolts up.

Vivien is also pretty emotionally sensitive, so he gets what you're going through. He knows you take things personally, so he will always speak softly and gently with you, not wanting to overwhelm you. Sometimes you and him intentionally hang out and watch a sad movie, just so you both can cry and cry and get your feelings out. On the other hand, if your body was physically sensitive, he would absolutely take advantage of this. He would wait until your guard was down and caress your lower back or run his lips over the back of your neck, causing a jolt to go through your entire body and arousing you. He would do this literally all the time to both tease you and try to get you in the mood. Of course, he wouldn't do this in public because he doesn't want anyone else seeing you in such a private moment, but it's fair game when it's just you and him.

Atalanta is afraid of emotional intimacy so she is not the best if you are emotionally sensitive. She probably accidentally says things that upset you and she has to backtrack and comfort you. She's not one for worrying about what other people think of her (she actually only cares for like 4 people), so she doesn't understand why you get so upset so fast, but she's not cruel or unfeeling. She will gladly cuddle and kiss and reassure you that she loves you and you are perfect. However, a physically sensitive Darling is very safe with Atalanta. She would not touch you in a vulnerable area without consent, and she would immediately kill anyone else who touched you. I'm sure you've had people messing with your sensitivity before (cough Vivien cough), but not anymore. Atalanta will completely stop it, except in the bedroom. When she is making love to you, she will make sure to touch and caress these spots to give you a heightened level of sensation to make it just a little sweeter.

[bestworstcase]

Re: this post which kind of threw a gigantic wrench into one of the Subtle Early Series Things That I Will Not Shut Up About, what's your read on the pinkish orbs of light that spill out of Pyrrha's chest wound at the Fall of Beacon? For the longest time I'd understood it as the tiniest bit of Maiden magic that the ATM had put into her, as the only other time we've seen a dying character emit a visible mass of light was Amber (It was also my explanation at the time for Ruby hearing Pyrrha's voice in v4, that her little micro-maidenhood passed onto Ruby per the last thoughts rules [she looks over towards Ruby before she dies]). But. As you pointed out, the magic draining out of Amber doesn't match her aura. It's gold, not yellow-orange. It's possible I guess that visible soul-leakage was originally going to just be A Thing in the setting and was later walked back, but I still feel like it means something and can't wrap my head around exactly what that something could be. The main contenders I guess are either still something Maiden-related, or maybe its a SEW thing? Can Ruby just like, see people's souls sometimes?? Why would something like this happen for Pyrrha but never anyone else?

y’know how

and then adam flicks yang’s blood off his sword as he advances but there notably ISN’T any blood gushing out from her severed arm or pooling on the floor, after?

taps the gold glow. this isn’t just a stylistic choice to be tasteful and artistic about the gore; adam cuts off her arm and yang’s aura FLOODS there to cauterize the wound, burning off in the process. it can’t heal her severed arm, but it can save her from bleeding out.

similarly,

if that arrow pierced her sternum, there’s a good chance it struck through her heart or aorta and this is pyrrha’s aura flooding the wound to stop the bleeding.

there are four Other occasions when we see characters sustain similar injuries without this soul-leakage, but:

cinder ran weiss through with a burning-hot spear, AND weiss had just had her aura broken; so a) the wound was cauterized almost instantly and b) weiss may not have had enough aura left to flood in any case.

hazel gets impaled by weiss’s queen lancer, BUT hazel is noted to have extremely efficient aura regen (ergo: control of his aura) AND he has a semblance that can blot out physical pain AND there aren’t really any major arteries in that area. (on either side of the torso; even without aura being a factor at all getting impaled where weiss or hazel did is a very survivable injury.)

anyway the other two are

vernal and penny. vernal is kind of the odd one out here because i don’t think we ever see her aura At All (i’m inclined to chalk this one up to an animation oversight tbh? the battle of haven is a mite unclear / inconsistent about aura across the board). but with penny obviously any aura-flooding event just gets vacuumed by cinder’s arm. and then her aura’s down until jaune amps her with his semblance, which wouldn’t cause flooding because both his and her aura are under conscious control.

(though it’s also entirely possible that the ‘flooding’ effect was just discarded after the switch to maya for aesthetic reasons. lmao)

but yeah basically i think it’s like. a symptom of medical shock. where all your available aura rushes to stanch the bleeding and there’s such an intense sudden concentration of energy there that you essentially Bleed Aura to keep your blood inside… & if you have enough aura (like yang did) this can fully cauterize the wound in seconds whereas if you’re low (pyrrha, penny) you’ll run out of aura before the wound is sealed. and then we don’t see this with even quite serious injuries to parts of the body that lack major arteries or in cases where the injured person is either tapped out (weiss) or exceptionally skilled and focused (hazel).

[altschmerzes]

“you’re on the shipping website you can’t be mad about people shipping characters” is a truly beyond shitty way to respond to people who are venting about people disrespecting their boundaries and laughing about it lmao. just say you wish aromantic people would stop existing where you have to see them and spoiling your fun and go.

[nadiaerre]

“You know Mozzie is an orphan. An orphan's gonna wonder about his parents, so he imagined they were spies. Occasionally, something happens that triggers Mozzie to revisit his childhood. When Ellen told me my Dad was corrupted, I ran from the truth and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Mozzie tells himself these stories to maintain his faith in the world. His faith, however limited, is all that separates a man with a conscience from a man without one.”

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[bmpmp3]

one of my favourite character relationship dynamics, platonic romantic or anything, is when two characters are absolutely the bestest of best friends and when one is hurt or something the other will scream and cry and wail and explode and when the other is in danger then the first one will go on some kind of silent terminator-esque rampage about it. besties (do no separate)

[mantisgodsaus]

there isn't really a specific question on the ask games that fits but we want to hear you talk about what muse is/was like in selkieverse. she fascinates us based on the roughly two things you've said about her

Yes we can do this absolutely! Fair warning - There Are Things Here We Are Not Stating, mainly for spoiler reasons. Hopefully, they are excluded cleanly enough that this still flows well, but this is a long-ass thing so

Muse, though she wasn't a selkie herself, was close enough to Leif that he felt entirely safe leaving her with care of his pelt. She knew that he was a selkie pretty much from the moment that she met him - there wasn't quite as much baggage built up around the risks of having your pelt just Out And About, at the time, though a lot of selkies were a bit skittish about it, and Leif didn't really hide things.

A marriage, at least for moths, is more a contract of trust than anything else - an expression of trust, a unification of families, and so on and so forth. Somewhat more of one for selkies, with the big blaring weak spot they've got - it's a lot like showing your back to someone and just... hoping that they don't fuck you over. You welcome this particular bug into your family and you trust that they'll watch your back and help raise your children and look after your family when you're gone.

She was the usual person to keep ahold of Leif's pelt during expeditions, so as to keep it safe even when his bug body was in danger from being hurt or killed. She was trusted to keep it safe, or to use it for its transformation if the need ever presented itself - it was more shared between them than anything else during the later stages of their life together, and that meant that she was very, very familiar with how it felt.

Leif died in Snakemouth after having given her his pelt for safekeeping. Just to make sure he had an anchor. Just to make sure he didn't go too deep. Just to make sure that, if something happened, she would know he was okay from the heartbeat of his pelt - or, that if it went cold, she would know to stop, and get out while she still could.

She felt his death in the pelt wrapped around her shoulders. The aftereffects of the venom coursing through his veins, reflected in his pelt, giving the warning she needed to order a repeat. She felt his death throes reflected in the very literal piece of himself still trusted with her all the way out, and all the way home.

She sat at home after submitting the report that declared his death, a dead pelt still settled around her shoulders, standing over the shells of their eggs, knowing that the larvae were in the Ant Nursery where she couldn't know if they were all right or if her whole family had been killed where she couldn't even see, and she felt the shudder of a body restarting as the cordyceps settled into his husk.

Muse knew, for absolute certain, that he died. She felt his death throes. She felt his heart stop on her back. She also knew, for an absolute fact, that he was alive after that, even if she didn't know how or in what form. She knew this, and she could feel the dull pulse of his cordyceps self starting to take over his body in his skin, and she could feel the sealskin starting to change under her fingertips, and she was deadly, deadly afraid of looking away- of taking it off, or simply ceasing to pay attention for slightly too long, and returning to find it dead and vacant again. To that end, she just... didn't take it off.

She didn't take it off, in fact, for several years. Past the point where people thought she was in shock and morning and long into the point that people thought that her husband's death had broken something irreparable in her. She continued to wear it long after her children had emerged from the ant nursery, and long after they had begun to grow into fully-fledged selkies of their own, and long after they had the context to know about It All.

She got into arguments about it. As far as anyone else knew, she was dragging her dead husband's equally dead pelt around 24/7, and once her kids were old enough to understand that whole situation, there was a certain awareness of "hey, this is maybe a bit fucking bizarre to do, don't really like that". It was, in particular, a recurring argument with the son that would eventually become known as Grandpa, as he was of the firm opinion that it was Fucking Weird to walk around with a loved one's dead pelt twenty years after said loved one's death, and that she shouldn't Do That.

Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win. Muse, being as stubborn as a bull and with no particular regard to what the neighbours thought, had been doubling down on this particular argument for twenty-eight years already. She had chosen to see this through, and no one could really convince her otherwise, though many of her children would try.

As such, she would remain "that weird lady carrying around her dead husband's pelt and skulking around doing who-knows-what since there's no damn way her husband's life insurance and her dispatch salary from the explorer's association would account for the care and feeding of eight kids plus herself without at least a few jobs in-between and no one knows what the hell she does for a living". The argument, however, would continue.

It would continue, in fact, until after Grandpa had had kids of her own, when Muze was fairly young. The old argument got brought up again, Muse refused to entertain the idea of maybe not being seen as The Local Weirdo, she went off to her room with the usual pelt. She sat, alone, in her room, thinking about the whole Situation. She put on the pelt.

This time, specifically, she chose to put it on in such a way to attempt to shift into Leif's selkie form. It had been years with barely any chance in it, after all. Though she had initially feared disrupting whatever delicate balance was keeping him alive, it had been stable for long enough that she was pretty sure that wearing it wouldn't disrupt something, and she... wanted the assurance, really, that she wasn't going mad. That her choices were based on truth - and that he was still out there, somewhere, even if dead-and-resurructed.

It... worked. With some caveats.

At this point, Leif was entirely merged with the cordyceps components, entirely hosted on crystal hardware, and the mirror that his pelt offered to his body was one where the bone marrow, connective tissue, and structure had entirely been eaten away by now, and the vast majority of the flesh was now composed of cordyceps tendrils that were a whole lot more obvious when they were puppeting around a skin suit with an internal skeleton, and not a relatively rigid exoskeleton.

No one could really deny that her old paramour was alive enough to animate a pelt. Unfortunately, no one could deny that whatever the fuck had happened to him, it had warped his selkie form beyond anything that anyone had really expected to be possible, and absolutely no one wanted to learn what the fuck his body looked like back in Snakemouth, or what form he was alive in, and no one really wanted to touch the pelt that had offered a form like that.

In particular, no one really wanted to see that particular pelt anywhere that someone might try to put it on after that whole fiasco, and no one was particularly fond of the idea of continuing to let Grandma Muse walk around with the living pelt of whatever her partner had become.

After a great deal of arguing, she accepted the compromise of hanging it over the mantelpiece, where she could keep an eye on it even without physically wearing it. She would then proceed to relocate herself to the living room for most of the rest of her days, if only to make absolutely certain that that faint, dull hum beneath the skin was still active- that he was still alive out there, somewhere, in whatever form.

Against all odds, she would live to see his awakening. Unfortunately, she would not live to see him actually return to his family - just to see the tell-tale shudder of a pelt growing active again, as miles below, Leif stirred from his slumber.

Her family are currently engaged in Trying Very Hard Not To Think About The Whole Situation. They are fairly certain that whatever the pelt belongs to, it's still in Snakemouth Den. They are fairly certain that Leif's relation to the family is through it, though theories are more "he's the kid of whatever-it-is and a different moth" than assuming that he Is In Fact Todd's Great-Grandfather.

No one really wants to take the pelt down from the mantelpiece at the moment, and absolutely no one wants to explain the whole Situation to Leif unless they have a better idea of what he's inherited from his other parent, but there's also enough shit going on with them in general that it might just never get brought up until someone directly mentions it.

Leif is currently under the impression that Muse remarried to a selkie because the whole "being a selkie" thing wasn't terribly relevant to the way that his current cordyceps took up residence and after that whole Situation he was not especially eager to delve into previously repressed memories.

Predictably, this whole setup goes Terribly when poked at, especially as Leif's pelt is a whole lot more autonomous than your average selkie pelt, being more than a century old by now and belonging to a fungus who is very much set up in a way where his disconnected individual body parts can act autonomously on remnants of whatever priorities are/were in the main control system.

It is still hung over the mantelpiece.

[akkivee]

idk if the camera caught it, but on day one, hayama-san happened to have looked down at the display monitor that presumably shows playback feed and when he saw the large sachihoko in the background, that smile of his got sooo much wider, i’ve been thinking about it for these past few days 😭😭😭

[tittyinfinity]

when you're disabled, being financially abused by your parents never ends

[skhardwarevers1]

anyways “just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are” Program and “I am stronger than you give me credit for” Vista

[thought-42]

A thing that I really enjoy is that all the Fae we’ve seen for an extended time onscreen (Ferne, Yu, Ira) are just a little unhinged. And then Loquatius fucking Seelie is just this guy. Just this dude with the character traits of a mortal. But you know it’s in there. You know there’re are so many things he is not saying and doing because if he did it would be fucking wild. And yes some of that is Sam deliberately playing up Loquatius fitting in with the mortals as a personal and professional tool, and yes some of that is probably Sam just not really thinking about the differences between Fae and mortals, but