#i'm feeling so restless these days because i want to write and create so bad but jesus christ

[arcane-vagabond]

.

[mariamariquinha]

to kill your demons all over again - Cooper Abbott x f!reader

Summary: Cooper was just a neighbor. Just that: a neighbor.

Word count: 10.755

Warnings: I mean, all of them (hehe). But being serious now, that's, like, dark. Dark themed, in other words, which means that you guys can stop right here. It's totally 18+ content, with sexual themes, explicit violence, manipulation, kidnapping, cheating, mental issues, traumas, panic attacks, that kind of thing. Read at your own risk.

Author's note: I've never written anything this long, nor this severe. Maybe you think it's a little similar to the plot of Split, if you watched it? Yes, but it's Shyamalan's work with another Shyamalan's work, and anyone who knows the guy knows that he creates connected universes. That's not the case, it's just poetic license.

It is worth mentioning that I do not agree with anything I wrote, nor do I want to induce any type of harmful behavior. If there are sensitive topics, please DO NOT READ.

Not gonna share my opinion on the movie either, but if take a look at my blog, you'll see I'm one to write for the bad ones ;)

Josh Hartnett? Yes ma'am.

****

It was a strange, predatory feeling. You thought you were becoming paranoid, a little… too anxious. Someone gave you antidepressants, sleeping pills; you couldn't use any of those things, so it only made you more restless on some occasions.

It was on your morning runs that this happened, but it wasn't a rule for the time you spent outside the house. Sometimes, when you went to sleep at night, you stopped in front of your bedroom window and looked down: you saw the lawn, the neighbor's house, the street lit by street lamps. There, as you stared at every detail of your landscape, you felt as if someone was lurking, watching, stealing your sleep, and you ended up locking the window, closing the curtains, and staring at the ceiling into the night because you couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than five minutes.

And it was like that, day after day after day, pushing your limits more and more, demanding that your lungs burn and your legs almost fail from exhaustion, begging that your physical tiredness would supply your waking mind and then you could actually rest.

You used to have panic syndrome – depression too, but treatable. That would put you on your toes most of the time, constantly reminding you of things from your past you exactly didn’t like to remember, and even if you knew that fear was irrational, sometimes you wondered if that paranoia wouldn’t come to you one day. Probably as a big hairy monster – probably as a deep, long wave of water, hitting you with enough force to knock you out, but not kill. 

Running, tiring yourself out… this was your long wave. You, precisely, taking control over something before it could kill you inside. 

Cooper was just someone you knew by chance. He was your neighbor along with his wife and two children; he was friendly, polite. You couldn't necessarily say you knew him beyond a 'good morning' or, once in a while, how the people collecting the trash were late by a day or two. You weren't one to talk much either, and he never forced long conversations.

The only times you spent more than five minutes in the same space was at the swimming gym, which was very close to the fire station where he worked.

You discovered this by chance too: suddenly you were getting out of the pool and he was there, usually doing his own private training, always very focused. It was a silent dance, in which you arrived at the same time, did the same things and probed each other's orbits without saying a word. The small talk on the sidewalk, the polite waves, the brief 'Merry Christmas' in December… All of this was there, in that neighborhood, limited to the distance of a yard between you. There, between the pools and the chlorine, the two of you only existed, always close but far away at the same time.

It was a simple routine. Again, casual. Definitely one of the few things that gave you a sense of reality and stability.

****

“You haven't been to the pool these days.”

That was an unusual situation, whether due to the question or the context. Mrs. Anderson, your neighbor, had thrown a birthday party for her granddaughter and invited you. You almost didn't go, but on a rare occasion you helped the girl cross the street and, apparently, the kid insisted on having you there.

You were sitting at one of the tables, snacking on a slice of strawberry cake and staring at the table unassumingly while the commotion happened around you; when you heard the question, you looked up in time to see Cooper standing in front of you.

“... I've been working a lot lately,” Which wasn’t a lie. 

He hummed, lowered his eyes to the plate in front of you and then raised them to your face again. 

“Show up there any day you can. It's not the same without you.”

“Oh?”

“I think it's a force of habit. I'm a bit… pragmatic, so to speak. I don't mean to sound weird, I just-”

“Likes routine.”

He gave you an airy smile, which you returned with a more friendly one.

“Me too. I’ll come back, as soon as I have the time. Just don’t ask me to run over some laps, I can’t take it.” 

“As long as you're there, I promise.”

And that was the thing, that… point that made you understand why Cooper, a person you barely knew, was someone you remembered. Because you looked back at your cake and unconsciously looked in the direction he had just left, only to find him looking back just like you were. Because it was that palpable feeling that he was one step away from telling you something but never did, and you were left waiting with more anxiety than usual.

You liked him, as company, but it would be impossible to say that it was because he talked a lot or showed a lot; on the contrary, Cooper understood your rhythm and just followed it. He was easy on the eyes, an active listener, as if he captured every crumb of word or gesture you offered him. He was kind enough to not use the side of the pool you were used to, although you suspected he also had his favorite side, and he was always visibly organized. 

It was a risk that you sometimes took, almost unconsciously: when you went to bed and didn't sleep, you tried to go through your day and sometimes stopped at the wave that Cooper gave you as soon as the two of you left the swimming gym, or at the his figure standing in your doorway as you turned the corner during your morning run.

Nothing extraordinarily invasive, nor absurdly explicit: it was just Cooper being Cooper, and that often left you feeling more consistently pleasant than any medicine you took.

****

It was an accident. It must have been, what, three, four in the morning? And once again, you were having a particular episode of insomnia, as familiar as going to bed that night. On some occasions, when sleep didn't seem to come at all, you occupied yourself with some household task that you didn't pay attention to during the day, such as cleaning the furniture or washing the dishes; that night, you chose to do the laundry.

So yes, it was an accident, even though the door to your laundry room was made entirely of glass, as was the window, and you had a full view of the window of the house next door, which belonged to Cooper. You had never looked there – ever. There was nothing to see. The time you spent in that laundry room was unusual, when everyone was already in bed and there was no sign of light or active life in the houses. You stayed there, listened to music, prepared a snack because you usually didn't eat dinner either.

You had already seen Cooper shirtless at least 15 times. He swam in the same place as you, it was more than natural that this was one of the clearest things about him. It wasn't a big deal, you clearly thought he was handsome but you never gave it a second thought, specifically.

As usual, you put the clothes in the washing machine, turned it on, and ran your eyes over the grass in your yard, then over the fence. Calmly, you leaned over the washing machine, stretched your neck in one way or another, closed your eyes, felt the physical fatigue throughout your body. When you opened your eyes again, you saw that a light on the other side had been turned on, and it was inevitable not to look.

He was serious, working with something you couldn't see through the window. Unlike the other moments, Cooper had strands of hair over his eyes, perhaps from the position of looking at the task at hand, and was still dressed while doing so. You kind of let yourself be looked at, and that wasn't an accident, you admitted that you knew what you were doing.

Then he stopped moving his hands. Calmly, he took them to the fabric of the shirt he was wearing and smelled the collar, then made some decision that made him start to unbutton it. There you should have stopped. He hadn't seen you yet, you could duck or just leave the room to avoid any embarrassment.

You remained there, standing still, and if possible, leaned further over the machine, pressing the fabric of your nightgown against your chest and stomach to have a clearer view. He wasn't muscular, but he was strong: dad body. He was visually robust, natural. And even if you hadn't gone that far, you just realized that it was easy to give in to going a little further; you could just feel a specific shiver down your spine when you saw him from behind, the extension of his back and the flexing of muscles as he did one thing or another.

Yes, you could consider it all an accident. You would say it was, if someone asked, even if the only person who could do that was Cooper, who when he saw you watching him from the other side, didn't hesitate for a second, and seemed like the type capable of keeping that secret.

He grinned, but didn't wave to show more than necessary about seeing you there. With patience almost in slow motion, Cooper mouthed 'go to bed' and it almost made you smile. Almost, of course, because that woke you up from your recklessness enough to make you stand up, running your hands through the straps of your camisole as if you were exposed.

He looked at you openly from where he was, tilting his head to the side.

You waited for something to happen, let him analyze you however he wanted, and then he turned off the light and only his shadow seemed visible there before it disappeared completely. 

Suddenly, it was just you and your reflection in the window glass. Suddenly, it was your eyes darkened, your hands on the thin straps that help cover your sensitive breasts, your mouth partially open. God, your nipples were fucking erect – did he see that?

An accident. Your wet panties and hot body were just that: a fucking accident.

****

It was a chill down my spine; someone sniffing the back of your neck, almost but not quite touching your shoulder, or that familiar feeling of not wanting to close your eyes in the shower for fear of what might appear when you opened them.

You didn't sleep a wink for more than two hours that night. It wasn't the insomnia, or the feeling of being chased: it was just the idea that if you looked out onto your lawn and looked up a little, you'd find Cooper there, in that window, looking back. Before, when you weren't yet clean, you could chalk it up to some hallucination, but you were sure it wasn't. The sensation, the vision, his look… Everything was too palpable for something just illusory.

You touched yourself in the morning – after your regular run, after tiring yourself out and not feeling that sensible tingling sensation going away. You didn't even look in the direction of his house, but, again, it was as if the whole journey was a long race against something other than prey, but the kind of thing that didn't leave your head. 

In the shower, you closed your eyes, and the idea of being watched was replaced by the expectation of being observed by him. Your fingers ran through your hair, all the way down to your neck and you stopped there. Would you really do that? Would you close your eyes and think not just about that night, but about all the other times you interacted with Cooper? 

Your fingers brushed your breasts and you shivered at the idea of his hands touching it instead of yours. Of his rough, crispy palms, a result of his hard work, splayed all over your skin and marking each centimeter of it with a grip or a touch or a pinch. You wanted him to do that, – imagined that Cooper would transition between being soft and rough – to be demanding, to tell you what to do. You pinched one of your nipples; the moan you let out was sinful, indulgent. The coolness of the tiles didn’t do much to ground you, but you managed to have some leverage before placing your feet at the edge of the bathtub, using your other hand to pass through your belly and navel, all the way to your fluttering pussy. 

Everything was extremely hot, chilling, like shocks of pleasure passing through your body. Your clit was so sensitive when you touched it, so at the mercy of the mere idea of ​​having him there, in front of you, maybe between both of your legs, smiling against your skin before sinking his tongue into you. A long, single lick from your entrance to your clit, gathering your juices to test firsthand what you were feeling. You replicated the process: you penetrated two fingers, then slid them up, finding your sensitive nerves, and a relieved sigh came out of your mouth. 

The cool water from the shower didn't ease the fire inside you, nor did your impetuous mission to satisfy yourself with that image in your head. You rolled a nipple between the two of you, pinched it lightly again, and stuck your fingers inside you again, your hips moving as you reached more and more of your spongy spot. Would he let you get on top? Would he instruct you to bounce, or would he ask you to continue that slow torture of feeling him everywhere, seeking the sensation little by little? 

It was enough at that moment, but in the long run you would want more. Like in the pool, when he came out of the water after you and you could see, even if discreetly, the shape of his penis. How come you never paid attention to that before? How can you never notice that it could be big and explicitly ideal to fit inside you? You licked your lips at the thought of sucking him; he would make you get on your knees, he would gladly order you to do it even if you were going to do it anyway. Would he hold your head, thread his fingers in your hair and control your speed? Would it make you choke?

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave; it made your legs shake, your eyes squint and your teeth sink into the flesh of your lower lip. 

You didn't say his name, you wouldn't admit it verbally. In your head, however, when you opened your eyes and didn't feel like you were being placed under observation or some kind of paranoia, you realized that you missed being analyzed, stared at, watched… But by Cooper.

That was a secret you were willing to keep.

****

Your strokes were firm, strong, fast; you let the water pass through you in a strong, definitive way. You walked more laps than usual, maybe out of tension or maybe because you hadn't seen it since you arrived at the gym, as usual.

You eventually stopped. Calmly, you lifted your head out of the water, both hands on the concrete edge of the pool. You took off your goggles, then your cap; you took a breather little by little, like when you were running, staring at the fixed point of the locker room door. Drops of water dripped and ran down your face, and your open mouth burned your throat. You could taste chlorine, the same drops dripping onto your lips and, consequently, your tongue. 

A pair of feet stopped in front of him at a reasonable distance; from the feet you went to the fabric of the shorts, which was familiar, and then to the rest of the crouched body until you found Cooper, completely dry and shirtless, looking at you with that same friendly smile as always.

You gulped, since you could hide it behind you being out of breath and not on how your throat suddenly got really dry. 

“Did you start without me?” 

“I…” You blinked up at him. “I think you're the one who's late.”

His smile got even wider while he nodded along. 

“I had to deal with some things. Nothing serious, but I ended up waking up a little later. I had a long night.” 

The reminder made you not know what to say, so you just let out a brief 'ah' and continued looking at his face, waiting for him to say something more or make that 'accident' something to talk about between you. Cooper weighed that silence masterfully, measuring the length of your attentive face to your lips and your neck, which moved with each dry swallow you took to catch your breath.

This wasn't making your life any easier.

“It looks like your training was harder today.”

That was unusual, but you should have known better than to expect him to act the same way after that show. He actually seemed to be testing you, seeing how you would react. Perhaps your forced neutrality was frustrating him a little; perhaps he expected you to insinuate yourself again at the first opportunity you got.

You looked around the pool, shrugged.

“I have insomnia. Some nights are worse than others.”

“Ah. I see.”

Then you very calmly went to the stairs and left the pool, feeling him behind you, walking towards you. Suddenly your swimsuit started to bother you; suddenly, when he stopped in front of you, you felt pinned to the ground by the look he was giving you, and then everything itched, to the point where you couldn’t stay still. 

“Did it tire you?” His voice was low, secretive. You licked your lips, shook your head in confusion. 

“... What?”

“Swimming. Was it enough to tire you from your night without sleep?” 

“Not a lot.”

His face went from soft to concerned, almost in a mocking way, but you knew better than thinking he was trying to make fun of you. 

“This is unfortunate. You need to rest at the right times, it could be bad for your health if you continue at this pace,” He tilted his head to the side, measuring your face one more time, especially when you snorted. 

“Oh, I’m aware,” You nodded. “Been trying to have a proper sleep since-”

You stopped talking, but he didn't stop paying attention, much less showing that he was waiting for an answer. That feeling of being watched came again, only with more force. With every second of silence on his part, his ears began to hear the beating of his heart, thump-thump-thump-thump-thump, and his hands began to shake and a lump formed in his throat. You remembered the accident, your sister's face; just the idea of ​​the justification for what was going to come out of your mouth took you back to years ago, because suddenly you had forgotten why you didn't talk about it with people. That's how it started. It was always so… sinuous, as if your head had grown three, four times larger, and then your floor would open up and you wouldn't move.

Why did you do that? Why did you think it would make sense to talk about something you've never talked about before? Why did Cooper make you feel comfortable enough to do it?

You grabbed the skin of your chest tightly, digging your nails in there as the grip only intensified. With blurred vision, you tried to speak and, again, you were overcome by a wave that suffocated you, and suddenly your sister was there in front of you, agonizing and bleeding, and the feeling of a cold night with a salty breeze invaded you.

When you no longer felt strength in your legs (when you saw yourself falling to the side), you were almost sure you saw Cooper smiling at the scene, but before you could process that too, you had already blacked out.

****

That was a big one. Your usual doctor was at the hospital and spoke to the emergency doctor who treated you, you were able to hear the conversation. Cooper wasn't around: you remembered seeing him at some point underneath, as if he was carrying you, but since you woke up in the hospital bed, you hadn't seen him anymore. You were still in your swimsuit. From afar, you heard Dr. Tuckerson talk about an 'isolated case' and the other doctor said something about 'medication reassessment', and that made you even more uncomfortable.

You squirmed on the bed, looking away to where they had placed an IV in your arm, then to the sheet they used to cover you. Why an IV?  

“How do you feel?” Dr. Tuckerson came closer, so you snapped your head at him with a deep frown. 

“Why is-”

“We ran some tests and you’re dehydrated,” He elaborated, doing as much as sitting at the edge of the bed. His face was always like that: serene, very thin, with very blue and very penetrating, condescending eyes. “So? Are you feeling okay?”

“... Yes.”

He nodded. 

“Apparently you haven't been eating or sleeping well, which may have influenced the intensity of this episode. Last time we reported one like this, it was a-”

“A year ago, yeah,” You adjusted yourself on the mattress, using one hand to pass all over your face and sighing in defeat. “I don't know what happened.”

Again, a nod. 

“We’re investigating. It was probably a very vivid memory, which also has to do with your current lifestyle. I know it's been difficult for you, but have you done what we agreed? Every time we talk, you say that your adaptation with people has been smooth. Was there anything different in the last few days that may have induced some type of stress in you?” 

Stress wasn't exactly the word, but you didn't think that incident had anything to do with Cooper. Maybe you should be more incisive with the paranoia issue, saying that it stressed you mentally and could be an aggravating factor?

“No,” You shook your head. “I don’t… it’s been normal.”

“Right.”

Unlike other times, Dr. Tuckerson didn't write down anything you said, although you felt like his notebook was nearby. He just stood there, quiet, hands resting in his lap as he stared into your face. It wasn't like with Cooper; his gaze was neither inviting nor receptive, it was more… inspective, like he was trying to press an answer out of you even if he wasn’t asking anything. 

“Your neighbor brought your things,” Then he broke the silence, opening that stupid notebook and going through the small pages. “Cooper. He said you two were at the swimming gym when it happened.” 

“... Ah.”

“Would he be an example of how things are going well?”

You considered his face for a moment, weighted all of your interactions, last night… Then shrugged. 

“I think so. We go to the same gym, we talk sometimes.”

“And what were you talking about when you passed out?”

“My lack of sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, then checked his notebook again – you watched it closely. 

“And he is… how? In general, do you talk about these things? Is he polite, does he hit on you?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

You didn't sound defensive, and honestly, that question was one of genuine curiosity. What, after all, did Cooper have to do with anything? What was Dr. Tuckerson's interest in him, that he was just a play and had no influence on his mental state? Sure, you two had that moment, and you certainly wouldn't talk about it with your psychiatrist, but just as Dr. Tuckerson knew you, you knew how to recognize some of his mannerisms, and that seemed like another worry that he didn't want to share with you.

He sighed, closed the notebook and stared you down. 

“We've never talked about him before. I believe it's a casual thing, like conversations between neighbors or something, but don't you find Cooper familiar? Like a… father, maybe?”

You knew what he was getting at, and you both knew it was something else that was bothering you. Father problems were a normal thing, but you certainly never associated your interests, platonic or sexual, with what that figure represented for you. Still, denying this was like denying a lifetime of knowledge that only Dr. Tuckerson had; even if it were true, it would be very pathetic to admit it.

“I'm not implying anything, right? I just want you to be careful. Cooper is a nice guy, very helpful. It’s important to have this type of contact, even if it’s brief, but you don’t do anything just because. It can be worse.” 

He saw the ring on Cooper's finger – you had seen it countless times, too, just like you saw Rachel and their children. It wasn't the time or the place, but maybe it was the time and the place for a reality check. 

“Okay.”

“Good,” He smiled, placing a hand on top of yours. “You're going to stay here for a while, just until you stabilize a little more. Maybe you'll spend the night. If you need anything, ask them to call me, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

He left and, as soon as you were alone in that hospital room, you felt an elephant's foot pressed against your chest, and an uncontrollable urge to cry.

****

The feeling of sleeping in the hospital was like having all that paranoia tripled. It was like that when the accident happened, all eyes on you, all the time monitoring you. The silence, however, helped you relax more; medicines too – especially medicines. It was a heavy sleep, without dreams or nightmares, just your eyes closed and the sense of resting.

Maybe that was why you remembered very little about who took you home. You remembered Dr. Tuckerson being there, and probably what sounded like Cooper's voice, but you couldn't be sure. What you did know is that she was put in a car and, naturally, taken home.

****

“Easy there… here you go.”

Cooper felt lucky, but he wasn't going to use it as an advantage; he would hate to see himself as lazy. After so long, it wouldn't be that way that he would take the next step.

You were a bit of an idiot; almost pathetic. At least that's how people made you out to be, including that Dr. Tuckerson, who certainly had more than just a professional interest in you. Who wouldn't, after all? Cooper wasn't one to have such inclinations, but you were all physically organized, attractive, young… With a head like that, you were the perfect combination – easy prey.

He would have made up his mind with you long before, but you were a neighbor, so he had more time to consider making that decision. When he finally decided, which was around the time you started looking at him for longer, he spent time thinking about how he would start and, sometimes, trained on other people to be decisive when your turn would come.

When he laid you down on your bed, he ran the idea through his head: it would go with your thighs first. Thighs that were spread out on the mattress, uncovered by the fabric of your summer shorts, marked by your intense desire to disappear with those morning runs. Cooper looked over them carefully, checked that you were actually almost asleep again before running his fingertips over the inside of them.

Then it would go to the belly. It was always a part he thought about, because either he would go all over the torso or just use fat and skin. Maybe he would go with the torso, but then he would work on the chest, then the arms; would leave the head.

He never thought much about these things conditionally; he had Rachel, and that was enough. He was only human enough to recognize the sexual attraction he had for you, and when he found out what you were like, a little sentimental, the kind who would think about how you would be more obedient as a wife, how you wouldn't question anything, how easy you would be to manage. He particularly would get hard just thinking about it.

But that wasn't the case; there was no other solution. Cooper had already found relief in the possibility of dying and for you it would also be the end of a fight. He would still be doing you a favor, by God, and that was the right thing to do.

You shifted in bed, opening your eyes again. He continued sitting there, observing your face, seeing how your state of almost sleep made you so soft and smiling more than usual.

“You’re here,” You mumbled, a hand going straight to his face. 

“I am,” He said back. 

“Why?”

“I brought you back from the hospital, remember?”

You frowned for a moment, then groaned. It was clear that you were navigating between reality and whatever effect that drug had on you. 

“I thought I was dreaming.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Like the other day, when I…” You were dozing off again, but then your hand fell from his face to his covered leg. That made you open your eyes again. “When I dreamed about you.”

“Did you dream of me?” His question came with an amused tone: not because it wasn’t obvious before that you felt the same way, but the way you just nodded like a puppy, looking up at him as if begging for some attention. 

Cooper almost admitted that he did it too, with you; that after that small moment between you two, he took himself in hand with the possibility of doing whatever he wanted with you, that you were giving him this out, that you wouldn’t give him so much work. So responsive, so… attentive. 

“You shouldn't do that, or tell me that. What should I do with you now, huh?” 

But you didn't respond because, again, you went back to sleep. Cooper stopped smiling immediately – he stared at your expressionless face for a while, as if waiting for you to wake up, and when you didn't, he got up to look around your room.

Remembering Dr. Tuckerson, he thought he could take him out of the game. The guy was a psychiatrist, he had that clinical look of someone who knew everything, and that irritated Cooper. You weren't like that, you were lost, unfocused, uninterested in people. The only time he saw you interested was in himself, and that was a satisfying feeling. 

Looking around your room, he took in the sunlight coming in through the window, hitting your things. He got up and went to a small bookshelf with some books; then he ran his eyes down their spines like he did last time, noticed the titles, and gently pulled out the two that were so familiar and checked the small equipment he had installed there. If he had more time, Cooper would change the batteries, but he didn't want to risk it because, despite being asleep, you were still there and he would hate having to improvise with you.

Then Cooper came out, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

“Soon,” He thought to himself, heading towards your stairs. 

It was the kind of thing he couldn't wait to happen.

****

You woke up in a dark room. It was your bedroom, and you realized that you were wearing the same clothes as the day before. You were a little dizzy, your head hurt, so you felt around the room for your things and almost dragged yourself to the bathroom. You had four missed calls from your mother; in the texts, somewhat affectionate words asking about your condition, and finally a warning that she would come over at the weekend to check on you.

You just replied with a brief 'ok' and got into the shower. It took a long time, you were a little out of your orbit: if you tried hard, you would still smell the chlorine from the pool.

While going downstairs to prepare something to eat, Dr. Tuckerson called and asked if you were okay. It was almost 8 pm. You said yes, and mentioned that you were still a little drowsy, so you would heat up some soup left over from another day and go back to sleep.

He asked if you wanted him to come by. You said it wasn’t necessary.

You took a large aspirin in your mouth, took the bowl of soup out of the fridge and didn't want to transfer it to a deep plate, you just stuck it open in the microwave and stood there in front, staring at the light coming from inside, heavily winking while massaging your temple.

A noise came from the back door, and it was the first time you acted quickly since you woke up. You waited, without saying a word, for yet another noise, but instead you received another text from an unknown number.

It’s Cooper

Can I come in?

And looking back, you should have said no. Really, you should never have said a simple yes to him, but you did because you were unbalanced and, at that time, you were clearly drugged. You went there, shuffled down the dark hallway without turning on any lights, and at the back, in the discrete light of the night, Cooper was standing with both hands in his pockets.

“Cooper? What are you doing here this late?” You mumbled, looking both ways when you should’ve asked why he came by through the back door. 

“I wanted to know if you're okay. Dr. Tuckerson asked me to bring you home and since you slept all day… How are you?” 

Dr. Tuckerson hadn't mentioned anything about this help from Cooper, but perhaps he was just more concerned about how you were at that moment and the details were left for later. You accepted his friendly smile and let him enter.

“I’m better. The medicine they gave me knocked me out, I'm particularly tired,” You said, walking back to the kitchen with him on your heels. 

“Could they send you a few more doses, huh? To help you sleep at night.”

“It's a shame they don't make it as easy for someone diagnosed with panic syndrome and post-depression, right?”

He didn't say anything, so you went back to the kitchen and hoped he was at least behind or close by. You continued with your back turned, took the soup out of the microwave and gently placed your fingertip in it to check the temperature. Warm. On point.

“I didn't know that's what you had,” He offered softly, leaning over your counter as you sat opposite him, the two of you facing each other.

There wasn't much point in hiding it. You wanted to, but Cooper had saved you from a huge problem: if you had been alone there, or if it had happened to someone else, maybe you would have had more than the aftereffect of a good sleeping pill. You still considered, though, rotating the spoon in the soup for a while staring at it.

“I was in a car accident with my sister when we were younger. I never fully recovered from that.” 

“We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“No! No, I…” You looked up at him. “I think it's more than fair for me to be honest with you in this regard. I kind of passed out in front of you and made you take me to the hospital.” 

“You didn't make me do anything, these things happen. I'm a firefighter, that's basically what I do.”

“Still,” You pressed. “Thank you.”

He stared at you for a while and you stared back; it was as if he knew something you didn't, something that made a light of mischief shine in his eyes. Then, after a discreet spoonful of soup, you remembered why you could be like this, or why it was convenient for him to show up at your house at night.

Your cheeks warmed, just as your neck. 

“So you remember,” Cooper murmured. 

“Sorry for that.”

“Why?”

“Well, because you’re married, for starters,” Your collected tone wasn't enough to convince him, which should have been a warning because his argument alone should have ended the conversation.

You didn't tell him to leave either; again, you didn't even deny him entering your house. It was kind of late, Cooper came in the back door and… Damn, shouldn't he be with his wife and kids?

The mention of his marriage didn’t do a thing, then. He nodded, accepted what you said, but didn’t make a movement to create some distance or break eye contact. He smiled softly at you, wandered your face with his eyes. 

“I was married last night too.”

“... I know.”

“So do you regret it?”

Yes, and that was one of the rare occasions where that should be the right answer, but you still didn’t say it. You glared at him, turned to your soup and sipped another spoon. 

“You said you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“What happened in that dream?” 

“Cooper-”

“I want to know. Tell me, please.”

Cooper was magnetic, skilled with words and polite. That line Dr. Tuckerson had said, the reminder that you should be careful, it was all in the back of your head, but looking at Cooper in that moment excluded that entire narrative. Suddenly he wasn't a risk, suddenly you wanted to open up to him (in more ways than just the metaphorical one) and that made you fold without even realizing it.

“I-” And before you could keep going, he had one hand in your bowl, discreetly pushing it to the side to have more access to you. “I dreamed that you were in my bedroom.”

“How?”

“How…?”

“How did I end up there?”

“I don’t know, you were just… there.”

He hummed, then used the small space between you to slide his hands over the counter, his fingertips brushing your knuckles. His head was down, focused on your fingers, and you didn't know if you could breathe. You should stop it there, demand that he leave, but nothing would come out; you acted like someone under a spell.

“I know how I would end up there,” Cooper raised his eyes, locking it with yours. “You would wear one of your satin nightgowns, just like the one you wore when you watched me. I don't think we would stop at that show, because you would seduce me.”

His index finger traced a squiggle on the back of your hand. You couldn't move, you couldn't react. Your tiredness and everything else were completely replaced by the same fire in that laundry room, in the shower when you masturbated thinking about him, and you leaned into the feeling without even thinking twice.

“It's not really a dream, don't you think? Because you could have just opened that door and I would have come here if you asked me.”

“... Is that why you came here tonight?”

Cooper smiled openly. 

“I came here to check.”

“Check what?”

You knew exactly what you imagined under that shower: the expression that would probably be on Cooper's face, how he would touch you. Maybe it was the context of the hospital, the way he saw you, because when he touched your face, a hand covering your cheek and your ear, it was like a caress. The first kiss was a long peck, just to test the waters. He pulled away a little, his breath hitting your face, and before your lips could cool, Cooper came closer again and gave you another, this time longer. His mouth was soft, cool; with a slightly unshaven beard, it was a contrast between his lips and the rough hair on his face. It was sensual. When he tilted his head to the side just a little, just enough to handle you and fit into that kiss better, you almost moaned, either because of the sensation or because you wanted him to go faster, to take you for himself right there.

You couldn’t remember the last time you kissed someone; not even a date. Your life was kind of empty in that aspect, which you accepted because you weren't an easy person. Not with Cooper. Cooper barely knew you and didn't seem any less interested in you after what he witnessed. He massaged your tongue with his eagerly, as if he wanted to consume you just as you wanted to be consumed, and that wasn't the kind of thing solved with a fertile imagination.

The counter started to be an impediment when the kiss cooled a little. He looked at that thing separating both of you as if it were offensive, but he didn't break the touch.

“Do you want to-”

“Mm-hm.” 

It seemed like every last bit of tiredness and insecurity on your part had gone as soon as he gave you that smile.

****

He knew you would taste delicious, just as he hoped you would be completely responsive. It was a fact: you needed command, guidance, and he was sure that Dr. Tuckerson wasted a lot of time being the nice guy while trying to be in the position he was in at that moment.

Cooper asked you to take off your shorts, along with your panties. He had time, Rachel and the kids were with her mother for a visit, but he was thirstier than expected. You obeyed so beautifully; you opened your legs as he wanted, exposed yourself to him and… God, you had such a beautiful pussy, so wet and ready for him. He didn't resist. He calmly took off his shirt, placed it on the coffee table and stopped you from taking off yours. Not yet, he said, I want you to trust me. And again, you trusted. Blindly. Not for a moment did you suspect his presence there, or that it would be stupid to think that that asshole psychiatrist of yours would ever place him as someone who would take care of you.

He wanted to feel that immaculate skin on his, so he lowered himself between your legs and let his face pass over your thighs, as well as the palms of his hands, tracing each muscle, each part, imagining the magic of when the cut would pass right there, at the junction of your thigh and your pussy, and everything would be palpable. Cooper nibbled on the meat, heard you hiss and smiled before kissing the area. He had something to do, he couldn't forget that, so he discreetly lowered his lips to your entrance, where he sank in, never to leave again. 

You had a taste of perdition, of pure desire. He grunted when, as he sucked your clit very slowly, he felt your fingers pull his hair, without guiding him but letting your nails scratch his scalp. He ran his tongue between your entrance and your sensitive spot; he had to give up the grip he had on your thighs to open you up and press one or two fingers inside, but it was worth it, because as soon as he found a rhythm, your sighs did it for him. 

Cooper rutted against the upholstery of his sofa; he was getting hard as a stone. As he became more anxious and excited, he accelerated the movements of his fingers because he wanted you to cum in his mouth, he wanted to feel more of your flavor before he felt you squeezing against his cock. He couldn’t help desiring you as much as he did at that moment: the prospect of having that control over yourself made it for him. 

Your orgasm was intense, almost spectacular. Cooper thought you were a virgin, but your pussy had been used, that's for sure. He lamented as he licked his lips and drained the rest of your juices, when he got up to undo his belt and pants and saw you there, with big horny eyes, without any support until he arrived. 

“You can take it off now,” He murmured, not leaning down for another kiss because he wanted to see it all. 

Your torso was a different situation and he knew that, hence the interest. It was easy to get your mother to tell you what had happened when you moved, conveying in certain details that you were fucked up in the head because your father was mentally ill with homicidal tendencies. As you exposed yourself in the low light of the living room, Cooper saw the scars that adorned just below your breasts, with one that crossed the area of ​​your ribs that he could always see if he passed by, when swimming or when you wore certain outfits in your morning runs.

It was the last prize, the icing on the cake. You were so immersed in what was happening that you didn't notice him noticing the marks, not even when he ran his hand over them. When he raised his palms to massage your breasts (when he felt, again, the thin skin that surrounded them and squeezed them), he felt like he could cum right there, in his own pants, watching you squirm and bite your lower lip.

Sensible, very sensible. 

He reached down and ran his tongue over a nipple, but this time he watched your reaction. He suddenly decided that he would want you conscious when he was going to use that part, to see how you would react, to test how much your face would contort before you passed out from the pain. Yes, he thought, the legs would come second then, and the breasts first.

“... Cooper,” You sighed between gasps when he kept going, a hand on the back of his neck to stop him. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Don't you think you can handle one more? Just one more?” Cooper asked, sucking the nipple between his lips before cooling it off with a soft breath. “You're so tight, honey. I don't want you to get hurt.” 

It was the right thing to do, to say; his eyes even turned dark with excitement at that. He smiled satisfied, then went back to work, going between sucking them and kissing them tightly, sometimes even pinching them. You would squirm, moan, gasp, sigh – all the while rabbiting your hips to get closer to his crotch, then brace him between your legs. 

You didn't know how strong he was there, which was an advantage, but a warning for him to be careful. A little more effort and you could dominate him. But you wouldn’t do it – you were too busy pushing your chest up against his mouth, taking all he was giving you. 

Cooper unconsciously looked up and saw the camera he had right on his ceiling, one you knew because you installed it yourself. Your mother said it was an exaggeration; it was right there that he almost thought about killing her. She was just like his mother and you didn't deserve that.

The thought made him suddenly angry. He felt his body boil with irritation, which made him blink a few times and feel his breathing become heavy; Cooper didn't touch himself if you noticed that, but then he was seeing red and couldn't stop.

He pulled away from you and looked over you. He took in his body with his eyes, then his confused face, and all he could hear or see or feel was his mother, right there in his ear, saying all the things that were wrong with him, or the slaps he got, the hair pulling, the cuts. 

“Coo-”

Your neck was softer than he thought, but your legs were as strong as his assumption. You tried to push him away with your knees as soon as he leaned over you and grabbed your neck with both hands, not pushing but squeezing. You began to struggle beneath him, hitting him in the face, arms, chest; if he hadn't dealt with it before, if you were the first, maybe he wouldn't have been able to, but he had strength and he could dominate you.

Your mouth started to open with lack of air and you tried to scream, but nothing came out. Typical. He liked it that way, when there was a fight, a debate, when he needed to press a little harder or put more weight on top. Cooper felt strands of hair fall under his eyes, but he didn't lose focus: he looked into your eyes, which were now scared and desperate, then finally took the next step he had been waiting for for so long. A feeling of satiety passed over him as he began to see your face give way, as did your strength. Little by little, amidst your alert body, your slaps lost their strength, as did your scratches and pushes. He didn't give in until he saw you take one last breath of suffocation, and he held on for a while longer until you actually passed out.

Cooper sighed with relief when he saw his body finally passed out. He moved away a little to loosen the grip on his neck and your touch on his torso, then he got off the sofa, fastened his pants and belt, and stretched his back.

He looked at his wristwatch, then tentatively looked through the living room window to see if there was anyone on the street. Then, calmly, he went to the camera wiring and, with the help of a chair, removed it from the ceiling of the room. He dressed you again: panties, shirt and shorts. He would have to go with his car, but he already expected that. The backyard cameras had already been discarded, so it wouldn't be a problem, but it would have to be quick.

Just in case, as soon as he put you in the trunk, he applied an additional dose of tranquilizer, so you wouldn't wake up until you got where you were supposed to be. He put you in the trunk, caressed your face and closed it.

****

Why do you think he didn't kill you?

You wanted to tell her that he just didn't kill you because he didn't have time, or because it would be inconvenient because you were a neighbor, or that he just wanted to torture you, but she already knew that; Dr. Josephine knew Cooper better than anyone else. So you stayed quiet, shrugged your shoulders, and she wrote something down in her notebook like Dr. Tuckerson usually did.

When you woke up, you felt so dizzy that you thought you were going to vomit. You didn't, however, because you felt very strong and tight restraints on your wrists, which were tied above your head. There was no way to move much: there was space, but you were placed in a sitting position and the grip was strong enough that you couldn't even get up. You tried, of course; you pulled until you felt your shoulder hurt, until you saw that either you could undo it or you wouldn't be able to get out of there.

It was like a basement, but there wasn't much in it. You saw some concrete counters and an iron table; on the ceiling, a hook similar to those used in a butch-

No. No, no, no, no, no, no.

A feeling of despair passed over you and you began to scream, while you tried incessantly to free yourself. This couldn't be happening. Your heart was in your mouth, beating against your chest, suffocating you. The muscles in your arms and shoulders creaked against the strength of that binding, your legs struggled for nothing, and you began to cry uncontrollably as you felt a wave of panic consume you. It wasn't the usual familiar feeling, no; it was something primal, instinctive, strong. You didn't just think you were going to die, you knew you were going to die.

You stopped after about fifteen minutes. The floor was rough and began to hurt the soles of your feet; you stayed there, leaning against the wall, suffocating in your own fear, trying not to lose control even though you had already lost it immediately.

How did he find you?

You began to get the impression that Dr. Josephine was studying you more than studying Cooper, and you needed Dr. Tuckerson's reassurance to understand that she was trying to help you.

It took almost an hour, perhaps, for him to appear there. By that time, when your tears had already dried and you were feeling your body dehydrated with sweat, you were staring at a fixed point in the room: a small window, or just a square with glass on the wall, high up, almost covered by a piece of cardboard. The noise made you look directly at that door and…

“It didn't look like him. I mean, it was him but… It was different.”

“How different?”

He had a cocky demeanor, despite appearing somewhat stiff in his gait. As you watched him calmly enter the room, passing by you as if you weren't even there, you shrank against the wall as best you could, feeling your entire body stiffen in pure fear. That was a familiar feeling, the fear – seeing someone in front of you who intended to hurt you was familiar territory.

Cooper (or the Butcher) must have known this, because he took advantage of this tension to continue there, probably looking for something while ignoring you. Tears began to form in your eyes again, but instinctively you held them back; your breathing became labored and uneven again.

He then looked at you with the same friendly smile as every other time, except for his eyes, which were empty and dark. In his hand, he had a knife: small, like a pocket knife. Later you would discover it was an oyster shucker.

“I tried to make it as comfortable as possible for you, hon,” His voice was weirdly livid, and he didn’t even flinch when you tried to kick him away when he crouched down in front of you. “Not familiar? I think it is. For me it is, at least. Although it would be selfish of me to make this comfortable just for me, so maybe I should accommodate you too.” 

Once, as a child, your father had cut you with a hunting knife. He didn't even hunt, you didn't even know where it had come from, but you were avoiding a stab to your sister and ended up being grazed, right in the rib region, below the chest. It was the first of many, but it was a feeling that was not easily forgotten.

Cooper stuck that knife in your leg. Without even hesitating, that easy, fast. You couldn't scream, despite the latent pain, but you opened your mouth to try to express something, which you also couldn't. He used that time to analyze your contorting face and streaming tears; probably studied how you would react, what you would do.

“Damn, did I do it the wrong way? Did he just cut it and not stick it in? Tsk,” Cooper tilted his head to the side, searching for your face. “Sorry for that. I'm also the type to cut it, but only after it's already dead. If I do it beforehand it makes a mess.”

You had already heard a lot about the Butcher and, despite that memory being the last thing that crossed your mind at that moment, you kept going through the pain if you had missed any sign in Cooper, besides the fact of your obvious stupidity of having sex with him. There wasn't – there just wasn't. He was a normal guy, with a normal life and a normal family, but at that moment he was sticking a knife in his leg and telling him how he prefers to kill a victim. You would be next. You, with that almost irreversible pain burning in your thigh, would suffer torture before being cut into pieces.

“Why don't you talk to me? You liked talking to me so much before.”

A small grunt of pain left your throat, along with the labored sound of your panting as you tried to get used to the sensation. You still hadn't looked him in the face properly after the stabbing; when he did, he had a worried, sickly frown on his face.

“Here we are, hi…” He smiled. “You are a very strong woman, yes ma'am. Very different from what your mother told me.”

You snapped into action, knife in you or not. 

“The fuck you did to my mother?” You snarked, and that made him lose his psycho smile for the sake of a dark expression, as if you just spit on his face by the mention of her. 

“I didn't do anything. I wanted to, but I didn't, because she's nothing more than a cunt. She came to my house and told Rachel everything. I know who you are because of her.” 

Heavens, Rachel… the children… Did they know what a man he was? The things he did? Were they safe?

Cooper saw your expression change as if you were reacting to what he said about your mother, because he shook his head again in disapproval. Out of the blue, he took hold of your jaw harshly and got you close to his face. 

“Where's your sister?”

More tears began to form on your face and no matter how much you tried to free yourself from his touch, Cooper tightened his grip on the juncture of your bones, with another of the familiar pains of a life of abuse. Not her, please, you thought, even if there was nothing he could do, even if it was just you who he wanted. You didn't ask yourself why; you didn't want to speculate what would make him choose you, because the answer was obvious. You were easy, approachable. Nothing in your life was stable, you had no one. With a mother who bordered on narcissism with a big good and a little encouragement, you ended up underneath him, having erotic dreams and being subjected to the condition he wanted to impose on you, which was exactly that: submissive, new flesh.

No one would miss you if he killed you – when he killed you. 

“I looked at the records. I know she died because her leg was cut off in the accident and you stood there, doing nothing. You let her die,” He breathed against your face, your cheeks drowning in tears and your gasps coming alongside pants. “And I'm going to do the same thing. I'm going to send you in pieces to go to the same hole as her.” 

Again, you tried to move away from his grip, but all it did was intensify the pain in your shoulders and the searing one in your leg. Cooper let go of you, the back of your head hitting the wall. 

He stood up, looking over at you and you couldn't lift your head to look back. 

“That knife is in your vein, and if you try to take it out, you'll bleed like her. That's why I'm not going to take it off, understand? Because I want you to stay alive for now.” 

Cooper turned his back; he would leave. He would leave and you would stay there, agonizing, feeling every inch of your body burn with tension, fear and pain. You cried again, this time with more intensity, and suddenly your arms went soft with giving up.

“... I don’t want to.”

You saw him stop, look at you over his shoulder. 

“I don't want to die. What did I do to you?” 

He threw his head back, squeezed his eyes shut – again, bothered by you. You thought that he would kill you right there, just because you asked that, but it took you so much strength to do so that it was just inevitable, so you asked for an answer. 

Why didn't he kill you?

Because he knew that if he killed you, he would heal your pain, and he wasn't willing to help you. When he said he would make you find your sister, a feeling of relief passed through you: that you would no longer have a nightmare, that you would be able to rest, that you would be able to ask for forgiveness. Forgive me for leaving you there. Forgive me for not knowing what to do. Forgive me for not protecting you.

It was a reaction of desperation and protection, Dr. Tuckerson would later say. That your brain had processed that you were going to die anyway, so it would take the step of accepting your fate and giving him a sense of comfort with what you had available.

“You need to find your peace, just like me. Your mother did this for you, she put me on your path and this is how it will be. I will relieve you of your pain, just as I intend to relieve myself of mine.” 

You looked him in the eyes, with as much rigidity and seriousness as you could manage. You gulped, licked your dry lips. 

“... One daughter has already been taken from her, and you will take the other. Who do you think you are to do this?” 

Cooper considered you with narrowed eyes. 

“It won't be on your terms.”

“So fuck you, you piece of shit.” 

Little did you know, but that smile and those words would be the last things that would connect you to Cooper.

****

You were there for a week. It almost killed you.

He didn't show up: he wouldn't give you water, food, or let you go to the bathroom. You smelled like piss.

You had already surrendered the points, you already knew it was the end of you. That deep down, even if people helped you, you were destined to die as your father wanted you to die: left in some corner, dirty, injured, defeated.

You had a fever: the cut became infected. The circulation in your arms was impaired due to the position you were in and you sometimes had small lapses, like reflexes, and tried to pull them down or simply let them go.

It was there, in the agony of waiting for your death, that you had time to think about the matter, and these would be the details you would tell Dr. Josephine when they needed you again. That your paranoia about being watched was because Cooper was watching you, that the sleepless nights, pretending to be insomnia, were reflections of the invasions he made in your home. That he took away your peace, little by little, while smiling at your conversations and interacting as if he were just a good neighbor.

“You had asked me that time why he hadn't killed me,” You said, the two of you walking in the patio of that hospital, both hands behind your back. “I think it was because he wanted me to suffer what he suffered.”

And then Dr. Josephine considered that with a certain regret, stopped walking and made you stop too, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“He thought you were just like him.” 

And maybe you were? There, sitting in that dark room, waiting for your death, you thought about all the anger you felt when you stuck that sliver of car bodywork into your father's chest, how ecstatic it was to free yourself from the demons that imprisoned you.

Then you smiled, in what felt like the last bit of your life energy, and thought that dying meant having the pleasure of knowing that if there was an afterlife, you knew that your father would be there too, and that no one would agonize in it function of his mind anymore. 

And when they found you, in the midst of a shock from the infection, you felt your head was light with the idea that if they didn't, you could agree with Cooper and take comfort in the idea that your mother really gave you one more gift: the chance to kill your demons once again.

****

[descendinginto-madness]

as the world shatters.

word count: 889

content warnings: descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death

summary: dan heng is scared for his friend's life.

author's notes: so! day two! i'm definitely happier with this than yesterday's prompt, but! i'm also telling myself that i don't need to create masterpieces; it obviously doesn't mean that i should put no effort at all, but for me, this event is mainly about having fun... even if the stories i write aren't necessarily fun to read hahah

contains a spoiler for dan heng's backstory

Move.

…

Move.

…

Move!

He knows he should, but his legs won't budge.

He saw March 7th fall and the time slowed down, and now his body won't move, like it was frozen to the ground. No matter how much he urges it to. No matter the fact Stelle is already there, kneeling down next to March, staining her hands and clothes with their friend’s blood. 

It's only when he sees March attempt to pull herself up that he finally takes a step forward, approaching the two, doing his best to move quickly - but it still feels mechanical, like he wasn't a living, breathing being but a machine. His body doesn't feel like his own when he joins Stelle on the ground. When he speaks up, he doesn't recognize his voice.

“Let me see.”

She nods and moves aside, pulling herself to her feet a split second later, alarmed, swinging her bat at another approaching monster, and Dan Heng can take a better look at March's chest and stomach - and when he does something cold fills his heart, his lungs, almost making it hard to breathe.

There’s so much blood.

The creature's claws tore through her clothes and flesh, leaving deep slashes that are still bleeding, obviously, soaking March's blouse with crimson - and he knows all color must've left his face at the sight but then his eyes catch March's, wide open, terrified, and he realizes he must compose himself. He'll have time for other things, but later. Right now he must focus on something else. 

He's known for his unfazed demeanor, it's about time he makes use of it - and so, he does his best to sound calm as he shushes March softly, noticing that she wants to say something. She needs to save her energy, not use it up on talking. She needs to stay quiet for now and try not to worry and Dan Heng will reassure her that everything will be fine, even if he himself finds it difficult to believe.

“Shh, it's going to be okay.” He says, picking her up, raising himself to his feet. He feels like he's in a trance, his voice seems to be coming from somewhere far away. “I'm taking you back- You'll be okay, just- don't fall asleep, you can't fall asleep, alright?”

Despite his efforts, he can't hide the slight desperation in his voice when he asks her to stay awake.

The rest is a blur - rushing towards the nearest Space Anchor, startling Himeko when he appears in the parlor car, then rushing to the infirmary, placing March down on the bed as gently as he can - then leaving, finally, letting Himeko and Stelle take care of her. 

It doesn't feel real. 

If he was too slow, even a few seconds too late, she's going to—

He pushes the word deep into the back of his mind. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to accept that as a possibility. 

He doesn't want to think about the fact that if she dies, it's going to be his fault.

And this is how Mr. Yang finds him - restless, pacing back and forth, unable to stop even for a moment, because if he does, his thoughts are going to get to him, and it will be too much for him to bear.

The look on the man’s face tells Dan Heng that he already knows - but even if he didn’t, it would be obvious that something bad must’ve happened, thanks to the blood staining the Vidyadhara’s clothes. Even so, he - obviously - doesn’t say anything, doesn't ask. It’s Mr. Yang, after all, and he never pries, and Dan Heng couldn’t be more grateful for that, because soon his vision starts to blur as the dam cracks - and Dan Heng doesn’t like crying, especially in front of others, but the tears stream down his cheeks like they had a will on their own and he can't stop them.

Even then, Mr. Yang doesn’t ask.

He simply pulls Dan Heng into a gentle hug, and normally it's likely that the Vidyadhara would’ve refused, but right now, he needs something - something stable, something to hold onto, something that would ground him at least a little. He wraps his arms around the older man, and - the Vidyadhara don’t have parents, and Dan Heng doesn’t know how it is to have a father, but Mr. Yang is probably the closest person to a father he has ever had, and right now, Dan Heng needs that, he needs so much more than he even realizes.

The lump of ice in his chest is melting, replaced by… something, certainly, it’s just that Dan Heng isn’t sure if it’s more pain, or anger, or a mix of both; anger at himself that he wasn’t more careful, that he didn’t prevent it, at the universe, that he allowed something like that to happen, because - March doesn’t deserve it. she doesn’t deserve to get hurt, she doesn’t deserve to go through so much pain and fight for her life.

He breathes in, and it comes out like a shaky gasp, almost - his grip tightens, but, thankfully, Mr. Yang doesn’t seem to mind. 

Dan Heng is forever grateful for it. 

Now that he can’t do anything more but wait, he’s much too close to completely breaking down.

divider by @/cafekitsune

[journey-to-balance]

I wonder. When is it that a flower is most alive? Is it during the restful moments of winter, deep rooted moments beyond our comprehension? Or, is she most alive during the impermanent hours of spring, when worldly pleasures designate her appearance as a beautiful sight?

Oh, winter. You're a fascinating, quiet season that lulls me to sleep with your icy song, one that seems to linger incessantly. I confess, for many years you were hard to love with your cold breath that chilled me to the bone, and a bold presence that seemed to last so much longer than spring or summer ever did. But, that was then.

Now, I see you are a blessing in disguise, as you offer the opportunity for a reset - a time to slow down and reassess priorities. Sometimes, the most productive thing we can do is give ourselves time to rest. Because if we don't, there may come a day when we are forced to do so. Besides, without you, would I appreciate the fleeting moments of an Autumn afternoon? Or, would I tire, perhaps get bored of summer's length of days?

Dear friend, how lovely it is to write to you again. I took a break from sharing new posts and poetry with you, and while my time away was extremely rejuvenating, I am feeling ready to begin a new year and new routine.

Sometimes, even when we feel like we should continue onto the next big project, it is necessary to step away for a moment and reassess how we want to show up in the world.

While I was away, many days were spent cleaning, cleansing, clearing my home to welcome this year's new energy and purging what no longer serves me. Many days were also spent cooking, baking, trying my hand at new recipes, and of course, writing.

I tackled some long, overdo DIY projects with the goal to beautify and upkeep our old, but very loved home. I went on a self imposed social media detox, switched off apps, removed them from my home screen and really forced myself to watch for my unhealthy consumption habits.

Moreover, I focused on healing my body and on addressing bad habits that were mainly caused by too much desire over discipline, too much restlessness over patience, too much impulsivity over clarity and too much feeling over reason. As matter of fact, my journey to better health and healing continues by addressing ongoing and newly surfaced health concerns.

Going forward, I will have to figure it out, make time for me, for self care that I've neglected for years, detach from people, habits, and fears, in favor of living more fully, taking deeper breaths. I want to create more, at a slower pace, for the simple joy of creating, rather than for vanity metrics and for fear of falling behind. I want to travel more, not as a tourist, but as an explorer, exploring my own mind most of all.

At the moment, I'm dwelling with the high feeling that comes from new beginnings. I know it will subside. I also know it takes a while for the subconscious to convert a new habit into a routine.

So much can happen in a year - or in a day, if we really think about it. There is always a part of us which needs more love, more healing, more stillness. Maybe that alone is reason enough to celebrate winter.

Thank you, sweet friends, and with you I welcome the year of our Lord, 2024. Ah yes, the year of the Green Dragon, one of many changes, in which I will do my best to accept, and adapt... and learn, yes, there is still much to learn.

Respectfully, Maritza

[probsnothawkeye]

Its @ethicstownpod finale day and my gods

I'm writing this in office on Tuesday as I just listened to early access and am unwell after that

Did I cry at my desk again? You fucking know I did

So now it's time to scream <3

Spoilers below!

Louis

L o u i s

You have created an absolutely *stunning* show that has kept me on my toes at every single point and everything that happened felt like a well earned surprise. My brain is melting in the BEST way and I have so much restless energy from how that ended

I cant tell if January/Ian is a madman or if he's right

But honestly I think he's right

And I don't know who is controlling this town or for what end but right now I'm betting on Louis being the big bad of their own show

Januian is a character after all

And he's aware of that

Also I *gotta* call out Louis's unfortunately accurate depiction of medical fatphobia. Januian was like "hey doc I need help" and the doctor was like "hmmm you seem stressed probably because you're fat why don't you come back if you're still feeling like this when you've lost weight" Incredibly accurate to real life. Which is unfortunate. But this has happened to me multiple times and the fact that Januian is canonically fat means the world to me

Ianuary is truly the poorest little meow meow and my favorite little boy. Hes evil, sure, but he's evil because he's a character and he's aware of that. He has no agency and is painfully aware of his lack of agency and look what it's cost him! Its cost him his daughter, the trust of people, himself. He's a fable, a lesson, a fictional man. I just want to squeeze him like a stress doll

And Artemis

Oh Artemis

Shes suffered so much and is real but also isn't real and can't acknowledge that she isn't real yet. Shes trying her best and she's angry (rightfully so) and not helping Ianuary's daughter despite the fact that that isn't like her. But shes hurting and grieving and Januian stole someone from her so she needs to steal someone from him to and GODS Rhys Lawton and Liz Dokukina deserve the absolute WORLD for their performances they were so goddamn good over the course of this whole show

Ethics Town hurt me

It hurt me so bad

And I *do* mean that as a compliment

The writing is done in such a way that it reaches into your heart and squeezes

It betrays you at every turn

And that's what you *want* it to do

Its an incredible show made by incredible people, an absolutely phenomenal story that will be spinning in my mind forever

Many congratulations to Louis and the whole cast and crew because my gods what a first season

If you haven't caught the show yet, now is the perfect time

[blackbird-brewster]

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

🌿how does creating make you feel?

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

Thanks for the ask!!! <3

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

Probably all of my early works tbrh. But I've decided to leave them be because AO3 is an archive not only for the main purpose of fandom creations, but also it acts as a sort of time capsule for authors who have been writing for a long time -- meaning, when I read my old works I get to see how far I've come as an author and that's really important to preserve. Although I would love to re-write some older stuff, I'm not going to because to me, preserving that writing in it's original form is really important to serve as a reminder of my progress as a writer.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

Oh godddddddddddddddd, You KNOW I'm gonna talk about [Between You and Me]. When I wrote the original one-shot, I decided to play around with flashbacks used to progress the narrative and build tension. It worked really well and I truly adored that formatting, but THEN I decided to expand this one-shot into what would become my 3rd longest fic to date. And in doing so, I chose to stick with the flashback format in every chapter. It was INCREIDIBLY TEDIOUS to plan the chapters with multiple timelines and threads that wove the story together. Thank goodness for you and Doom Them for always listening to me scream about how frustrating it was to plan that fic, especially since both JJ and Tara kept having other ideas about where the story was going. This is one of my FAVE things I've ever written and I think it's a damn shame more people aren't shipping JJ/Tara because 1) they're an amazing ship 2) y'all are missing out on this fic which is honestly fucking amazing.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

As an ADHD/Autistic who struggles with self-worth and tons of mental health shit -- creating feels AMAZING. I felt really lost the last couple of years, because it's the first time since I was 15 that I haven't had a job. I was fired from my dream career unexpectedly at the end of 2020 and I felt so aimless/worthless for the following couple of years. Then one day last July, I opened a new document and started writing again. I was terrified to try to do something I'd been completely unable to engage with in nearly seven years, but I wrote anyway. And like I said in the first reply, my first couple of fics after coming back are a bit rough around the edges and now when I read them, I can see how much I've grown even in the nine months since I started posting again. I'm extremely lucky to be able to write full-time now. I wake up, have breakfast, do my morning routine, then sit down at my desk and write all day. It's very much my 'job' now and when my routine gets interrupted, or I'm having a bad chronic pain day, or I can't write for whatever reason -- I get SO restless, cranky and irritable. Writing brings me endless joy, I love what I do for a living and I am just so grateful to be able to focus on my special interest full-time. I love how many amazing friends I've met over the past nine months, you all have brightened my life even further and I am forever in awe of all of you.

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

Oh goodness, celebrate is not the term I would use. For sure there is usually a bit of a proud moment when I look at a complete fic and get to move it out of my 'WIP' tag in Evernote, but I always end up getting what I call 'completion crash'. For the few days after finishing a long fic, I usually have no motivation to write and I feel really lost and sort of go through a mini-grieving process because I've gotten to know the characters and I've been so wrapped up in their heads for weeks or months at a time, it's difficult to say goodbye to them. In terms of being able to give myself credit and validation for doing incredible things...I'm still working on that bit.

[Send Fic Writer Asks]

[temeraire-stuff]

Empire of Ivory Chapter 4 Spoilers!

Hello everyone!

I have to say I'm not overly certain how I feel about this chapter. I'm upset with the Admiralty. I laughed so hard at Laurence's situation and cheered for Temeraire’s successes. I have so much to say but don't know what to actually talk about. So let's start with the spoilers.

Spoilers Start Here!

OMG, like really, really! These Admiralty and their secretaries and other people!!! Where is the pit that I can throw them all in!! And to act like dragons have no sentients or are as dumb as horses. And they don't see the value in trying to make them comfortable and are already writing them off!!! They say the money will be spent on the shore batteries! It enrages me!! I'm seething!! If I could breath fire, I'd burn them all to a crisp like Iskierka always tries to do to enemies!

We get to see Laurance starting to see the error with his country and it's service of the dragons. He actually argues with a secretary that good food and pavilions is only a fraction of what the dragons are due for their service. Only to get told that it isn't. Like go Laurence and please refer to my previos paragraph for what the secretary is due.

Laurence in a desperate bid to aid the dragons even submits himself to a party. We all know this man doesn't enjoy them and prefers to avoid them when he can. But instead of getting to have a quiet word with the Admiral in charge of the budget, a worker from the Foreign Affairs Office recognizes Laurence and goes on and on how his adoption into the Chinese Empore's family solved so many problems. This causes Laurence to become the center of attention which only makes him more uncomfortable. Poor Laurence. He'll be a 90 day wonder because of his title of Prince of China. And even after all that the Admiral basically told him unless it's a cure they won't do anything.

The next morning Laurence informed Temeraire of what happened at the party as they prep to return to Dover only for Lord Allendale and Wilberforce to show up. Lord Allendale is not happy with Laurence but he wants to use Laurence’s new fame to push for Abolishionist Movement to end the Slave Trade. Since they are having such trouble because Admiral Nelson so vocally denounced the movement. He says the Slave Trade is the Nursery that creates Britains finest sailors for the Navy and should be ended. Ugh, I can't stand that attitude anymore than the one about dragons being lesser. Anyway, Laurence ends up being cornered by Lord Allendale and Wilberforce and Jane later agrees, so he'll be a guest of honor at a party with a China theme for both the Dragons and the Veterans of the Trefalgar. Also, Wilberforce was impressed with Temeraire and agreed that he too should be present at the party.

After this we see the work men for one of the test Pavilions discussing their construction. The workers are split 50/50 on their fear of dragons. But it's goes very well as they actually listen to Temeraire’s input. And have a lively discussion about making the Pavilions that will withstand British weather. Progress is slowly being made on people seeing dragons as not savage beasts but it is slow going.

Iskierka wants a pavilion but won't get one as she and Granby don't have enough capital to buy or have it made. So she wants to capture (steal) ships for prize money. She's so restless and wants to do stuff. Iskierka gets so bad, Jane concocts a plan to get Iskierka on Patrols willingly and to listen to orders even if she dubs them stupid or bad. And Granby picks them out a crew.

The Ferals are starting to shape up as a successful defense for Britian when they turn back a French Dragon all on their own. So Jane in her infinite wisdom gives Arkady a metal as a reward to keep the Ferals motivated and happy. The metal is basically a brass dinner plate with his name on it. Temeraire gets jealous over this which is hilarious because his necklace is far superior.

We have our grand party and the non-Chinese workers are terrified of Temeraire, while the Chinese workers literally worship him. Emily is forced to wear a dress and Laurence is afraid of what will happen so has her dtay close to Temeraire. This leads Wilberforce to us Emily as an example of if this girl isn't afraid to be near a dragon you shouldn't be either. It works and Temeraire even engages guests in math problems and he charms many of the guests. And Laurence’s fear comes to pass in that Lord Allendale thinks Emily is Laurence’s basterd daughter.

Poor Temeraire and Laurence. They are so naive that they believe Nelson came and suggested they could be put to better use than patrols out of politeness and not politics. He's totally trying to get them out of the way so they won't effect the population and have slavery made illegal thus Abolishing the Slave Trade.

Then at the end of the chapter, Temeraire convinced eveyone to let him fly over the quarantine field to check on the progress of the pavilion and not checking on his friends. We and everyone knows it's really the later not the former. So while doing this a small French Dragon (courier) is spotted fighting ill dragons over the quarantine zone. In order to stop the threat of news of the Sick British dragons getting out, they force the Courier and her Captain (just a small boy) to land in the sand unknowingly among the quarantining Longwings. Only to discover this when the dust settles.

Have I mentioned I hate the Admiralty and their lack of care for the dragons enough yet???

Anyway, updates on predictions: the captured French dragon gets sick, and when the Admiralty realizes there is a danger of invasion or as a preemptive strick, will send it/let it escape to bring the disease to the continent. I also predict that Temeraire will be immune to the plague. And once that happens, they will try to deduce the cause of his immunity. At which point I expect we will be on another trip around the world.

I also see that Temeraire is slowly charming people. He's so charming I expect he will get people to listen and agree to the Dragons Right Movement that Temeraire is pushing for. But I don't see the bill happening until later in the series. I expect they will go until they get representation.

[tsunderedoctor]

Hi! I’m sorry if this is triggering or getting too personal (just delete it if it’s no go) but I’m currently having an episode of depression. It’s been bad these last couple of days. I need a bath but can’t find the motivation to do it, I only eat when I really can’t stand the hunger anymore. I’ve been sleeping and just lying on my bed the last couple of days. Nothing is interesting but I’m restless. Do you have any tips as to how to feel better? To cope? To just find motivation?

Hello, my love!!

Don't ever feel bad, I promise I get to my asks eventually haha, so you never bother me. As to your question, it's difficult because certain things work for people while others don't.

For me, I like to journal, so I started bullet journaling and marking when my depression gets high. I personally recommend finding out what is causing that depression if you can, so you can figure out what the issue is and avoid it or work through it.

Also talk about your feelings, whether it's with someone in person or online, I'm always free to chat, but I am a bit depressed myself, so I won't be as motivated to write as much. But sometimes talking really makes a difference.

Push yourself, it's okay to be sad, but don't let your emotions control your life, fight the urges to lay in bed, create your own motivation. I know it's easier said than done, but you're the only one who can change how you feel. When I'm super depression, I allow myself to wallow in it for a good hour, but then I tell myself it's time to do things. Again, it's okay to be depressed, just don't let it control your life.

Always know you are loved! If no one has told you lately you matter in this world and you are wanted! I love you and care about you, no matter what!

[welkinsky]

I posted 95 times in 2021

79 posts created (83%)

16 posts reblogged (17%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.2 posts.

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Hi! I love your Kakashi HC so much! can you please write one where he have the nighmare in front of you for the first time?

Kakashi X Reader | Comforting Him After A Nightmare For The First Time

Masterlist

Kakashi has been experiencing these nightmares for as long as he remembers but he never mentioned them to you, even while you two were dating. But as you started spending nights together, you figured that he was a restless sleeper.

You were a solid sound sleeper. But you could feel that he moved a lot during nights and used to get up quite often too. You thought it was just him being restless that's all. So rather than confronting him directly, because he gets a little anxious knowing that he is doing something that is bothering you when its' completely not. You set up lavender diffusers in his room, made him chamomile tea before bed, all the things that help in better sleep.

But it didn't really help. One day you got up and it was around 2 am and went to the bathroom. You heard Kakashi calling your name and you could feel worried lingering in his voice. So you got back and saw your boyfriend looking for you in the kitchen. As he turned, the expression on his face was completely alien to you. He wasn't wearing the mask so you were able to see them completely. They were a mix of worry, fear, anger and it almost felt like he was about to cry.

Before you could say anything he came rushing towards you and hugged you tighter than ever before. You could feel the wetness on your shoulder. He was crying. But rather than asking what's wrong the best thing you thought you could do was just hug him back. And as you did a loud sigh left his mouth and he said, "Oh thank god y/n you're here."

You were still confused but you yourself felt like crying after seeing him like this. You replied very gently with a, "I'm here Kakashi, I'm here." while running your hands in his hair and rubbing his back and arms to make him realize that you WERE there, and with the warmth of your hands and your words he felt a lot more calmer.

He let go of you after wiping his tears so that you don't have to see him like this. You gentle wiped the rest of them and gave him a very soft yet passionate peck on the lips. "Let's go to bed," you said as you took his hand and got into bed with him. You made sure that he was warm and pulled the sheets over him before tucking yourself him. All the while he was just there, following your lead with a confused expression. Weren't you curious about what just happened? Or are you doing this so that he doesn't feel bad? Why weren't you asking any questions? Silently he was relieved that he didn't have to explain everything and make you worry.

You lay your head in his chest while his chin resting on top of your head. You wrapped your arms around me and tried to get as close as you could to give your warmth to him. Which was actually working and he was feeling a lot more calmer. But as he was about to justify himself you crossed him and said, "Tell me when you are ready. For now, just know I'm not leaving you okay? Besides no one can fangirl about itcha itcha with me as you do, so it's not like I have much of a choice." Till the first part he was about to cry but in the second half, he laughed heartedly yet slipped that one tear that was about to come out anyway.

Knowing that you are not scared or anything with this sudden burst of emotions from his side, really helped him calm down. He kissed the top of your head and you kissed the temple of his neck in response.

He slept peacefully that night, didn't even took one turn. Knowing that really puts you to ease that your company is all that he genuinely needs.

______________

Thanks for the asks!

Asks are still open if you want to submit any ;)

260 notes • Posted 2021-04-03 11:57:06 GMT

#4

Tsukishima X Reader | How He Shows His Affection

Masterlist

Tsukki is the type of person who is not very much affectionate in public buuut just wait till you two get home or are alone. He. Is. All. Over. You! It's almost as if he was stopping himself from hugging you all this time!

He needs to be touching you all the time! If you are alone he'll have one hand on your thigh or just across your shoulder and creasing your cheek with his thumb while doing something as simple as using his phone.

But when you are in public he wants to touch you one way or another but he's not much of a fan of PDA so he will at some point convince you that YOU are the one who wants to cling to his arm all the time and act as if it is his kindness to let you do that.

Since we are talking about PDA he is not a big fan UNTIL and UNLESS there is someone around who is or will try to make a move on you. He'll pull you in a hug from behind and will kiss your neck WHILE making eye contact with the other person. Ya, he can be possessive when it comes to you. Because he might not admit it but he loves you too much *heart eyes*

He might say that he doesn't want you at the matches. So you try to sneak in and get a back-row seat or something and keep it lowkey but one glance and he knows that it's you. He can't help but feel a lot calmer and happier seeing that you care enough to go to this extent just to see him play. But expect a lecture afterward or a corny joke. I mean... it's Tsukki we're talking about.

You both live in entirely different directions from school but he walks you home every day since there is a neighborhood that you have to cross which is not that safe. And if he can't make it because of practice he drops you off at the bus stand to make sure that you get home safely.

You are someone who is a people pleaser and just can't say no if someone is asking for a favor and sometimes people tend to take advantage of that. At first, he thought you were a complete idiot but when he picked up the tricks that the other use sometimes to get their work done? He is your human wall.

He will either hide you between the wall and his tall body or he'll just piss off the other person with a sarcastic comment to avoid them disturbing you ever again. As much as you hate not helping them, it is a huge relief, and over time you realized you were spending way too much time helping others.

274 notes • Posted 2021-04-02 14:40:23 GMT

#3

Kakashi with a breeding kink where he filling His s/o if a tiny drop slips out he’d do it again

Kakashi X Reader | Breeding kink

Masterlist

Warning: Smut, 18+

You were teasing him since morning. You wore his favorite skirt today and his favorite panties, oh and how does he know? Because you bent over to pick something up right in front of him during a meeting full of Jonin. You two were in the back so no one else could have seen that except for him.

"Y/N what was th-" before he could finish his sentence after the meeting, you ran up to Tsunade to talk about something and signaled him to wait. You did the same in the training area. Again.

He knew what you were doing, he was just patient enough to see you getting worked up before he does. By the end of the day you were longing for him too but before you could leave your office, some work came up and you had to stay back. Kakashi went home early that day after saying, "I have a few things to look after" never leaving eye contact with you WHILE he was talking to Gai. It was your signal that enough is enough.

But you were stuck with work and this time it was genuine. You got free as soon as possible and went back home.

By now you were so tired that you almost forgot about the entire day. As you rested your stuff on the table in your bedroom strong hands pulled you and threw you to the wall, you already knew who it was. It was him, only in his sweats without the mask on.

Kakashi said with one hand strangling both of your hand over your head and the other one holding your sides tightly, "What was that? If you were gonna do that to me the entire day, at least give me some reward for my patience huh" in a very low and heavy voice, which he used when he is way too worked up.

"I got stu-" you tried to explain but he cut you off "Na-ah you wanted to be a tease right? Well, karma is a bitch darling," he said snarling the last word and turned you around with your hands still strangled.

He lifted your skirt and spanked you hard, "You know what you get for doing that to me right?" he said in your ear in the same low heavy voice. It was sending shivers down your body and before you could know what was happening he ripped your panties leaving you with just the skirt on. You gasped but didn't resist because you kinda love the hard dom Kakashi.

He pointed one of his fingers to your mouth, "Lick It" and you obliged. If you were facing him, you could have seen the pleasure and joy in his eyes as you were licking his fingers. Before you could think what he was doing he pushes the two fingers to your already wet hole. You moaned hard in pleasure. He started pumping them to the rhythm that he very well knows what you like and increased the speed, but by the time you were about to cum he stopped and left your hands too. You were a sweaty mess with trembling legs begging him to finish you.

He sat on the edge of the bed as if it was nothing while you begged him to finish you, he just smirked in return. But when he heard the word "please daddy" leave your mouth, he may not admit it but he was turned on as fuck!

He took you by your neck and aligned your face right in front of his, "But on one condition, you have to take every single drop in and IF even a single drop comes out of that pretty hole of yours, we're doing it again, got it?" You nodded frantically and sat on top of him.

Honestly, the way he moaned as he entered you was your signal that he wasn't as tough as he was showing, he wanted this too. But when he started thrusting, all the thought left you and all you could do was to make sure that you agree to what he said earlier because he has no mercy when it comes to overstimulation.

After a few hard and fast pumps he was about to cum, "Tighten it or else we are doing it again." You knew better so you agreed.

As he came he lays back in bed because it was too much for him too, it's been an entire day that he's been hard rock down there. You lay on top of him to calm down a bit.

He turned you over and got on top, "You think I missed it? Look at that mess. You failed, now don't blame me for what's about to come." and he started thrusting again.

He lasted 3 fucking more rounds before you completed his condition and he let you go.

Lesson learned: If you are going to tease him again, don't do it.

________________________________

Visual Art by: Kanzzzaki

I'm sorry if I suck at this, smut is not my main forte but I'm trying to learn that writing form too so please bare w me.

Thanks For Reading and for the ask too!

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

290 notes • Posted 2021-04-13 18:31:09 GMT

#2

Congrats to 100 follower ✨💖 you really deserve it. You constantly put quality content out there 🥺

As for your celebration, what about the alphabet for Kakashi? 🥰

Kakashi X Reader | A-Z Headcanon

Masterlist

A-Z Headcanon

Warning: 18+ Content

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Once you two are done and tired, he's gonna take a moment and then turn over to you to smile and adore how flushed you look. He usually kisses your forehead and then pulls you into his chest. Once you two are all calmed down. "You want to hop in the shower baby?" Still running his one hand through your hair. If you say you want to rest a bit more, he gets up to get you water and towels, or if you say yes then expect a "Round 2?" joke on your way, which wasn't actually a joke.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of their partner’s)

Your thighs! Doesn't matter if you have thick thighs or not he likes to grab them while you're on top or you two are just chilling and he is running his hand through them and they slip certain places "by accident"

In a non-sexual way, it is your hair, for sure. He likes to bury his face in them because the scent of the fresh shampoo is relaxing to him. If you change your shampoo he'll notice it right away, expect a new bottle of the same shampoo on the shelf next to your new one the next day.

C = Cuddling

Cuddling with this man is a dream! He likes to be all over you with one leg over yours and your face buried in his chest. Even if you are being the small spoon, his one leg will be over you and your head resting on one of his arm and his other arm over your shoulder pulling you closer to his chest.

Whenever you two are on a nap date, his hand is always resting on you. He becomes restless when he can't find you but calms down after finding you on the other side of the bed. Then just keeps his palm on you rather than pulling you in and waking you up.

D = Dirty Secret

This one time, you two had an idea of taking some nudes together just for fun to see whose turns out to be the better one. You both set a rule to get rid of them after the winner was announced, which never happened since you two were so turned on in the process that you two ended up doing it. You forgot it but he still has your photo with him. Shut up, it helps him on long missions.

E = Experience 

He was not a virgin, but he wasn't much experienced either. If you want to know more about this scenario find it here.

In starting he kept things vanilla, he didn't want to freak you out. But you wanted more but that was the case with you too so this one time you stole his Itcha Itcha to read what type of stuff he was into. AND YOU ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT. You had to read it as fast as you can because he'd notice that it was missing.

And when you suggested something, it was a shock to him because he knows exactly how to do it but to ACTUALLY experience it and that too with YOU? The guy was in actual heaven that day.

F = Favourite Position 

It depends, he is a tease so he likes when you do all the work but just wait till he has your image of having one leg over his shoulder while he's pounding into you and you're all flustered, aaaaand the guy is pinning you down and going at it.

Or if he is IN THE MOOD he's gonna start with you on all fours and will end up having you burring your face in the pillow.

G = Goofy

Hehe he is the best type of goofy. He says the jokes with a straight face while everyone is on the floor dying. He only lets out a small laugh when you are laughing your "so-called ugly laugh" in front of others too.

But sometimes he starts laughing even before cracking the joke because it was that funny, "Oh boy, naah it's nothing" he says wiping a tear, off his one eye. You all will beg him but according to him "the moment is gone" lol he IS a tease.

H = Hair 

His hair is sooooo fluffy! And after how little he looks after them? It is almost a joke on you. You take care of your hair a lot but this guy probably washes it with body wash and still has such good quality. He always says that it is a good diet to trick you into healthy eating too. This guy never misses a chance to do that.

I = Intimacy 

Your emotional intimacy is something that is beyond this world. You both never knew that you were capable of feeling emotions so strongly.  You're hurt? He feels this burning feeling in his heart that he can't get rid of. He is having a nightmare? It breaks your heart that you cannot do anything about what he had to go through.

See the full post

322 notes • Posted 2021-04-17 17:18:35 GMT

#1

Hi! Can u do hcs for todoroki and bakugou having feelings for the same girl? would they fight over her? or maybe try to mess with eachother?

Todoroki X Bakugou X Reader | They both like you

Masterlist

This was honestly a nightmare, to the entire UA.

You were in 1B that is the only reason this was the headache of the entire school because they'd have a loud fight, conversations, or show-off sessions in the corridors since you had a different class than both of them.

You were so naive, you didn't realize what it was until the very end. For god's sake, you thought they were best friends or something.

It started being very subtle. They hanging around in front of your classroom whenever they can. Mina and Uraraka started being friends with you. Mina was gathering information for Bakugou and Uraraka for Todoroki.

Even they didn't found out about each other when until you all were in the main hall and principal announced about the annual school prom and they both looked directly at you, then at each other and they both went into shock for next 5 mins. But the next conversation that they had was mostly about how the other one is a better match for you.

During some activities that involved 1A and 1B working together, they tried their best to match with you for the team but Aizawa knew better than that so he always either paired you with Izuku or Denki.

Which pissed them off either way because for Katsuki, Deku is already a sensitive topic and Denki flirts way more with you than Todoroki's liking.

But it all came down one day when they had an actual argument over you that turned into a fight. You knew what it was about and you ended up shouting at them. They went silent, drop-dead silent, and headed their own ways.

They later apologized to you for what they did because obviously, you're not a trophy that they can win right? But they acted like it and it wasn't nice on their part.

______________________

Here is if bakugou wins Bakugou X Reader | Bakugou Wins

Here is if Todoroki wins Todoroki X Reader | Todoroki Wins

But thanks For Reading and for the ask too!

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

361 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 14:14:59 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[hashire]

I posted 8,501 times in 2021

1573 posts created (19%)

6928 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.4 posts.

I added 1,218 tags in 2021

#mdzs - 239 posts

#snk spoilers - 168 posts

#rivamika - 160 posts

#dgm - 109 posts

#snk 139 - 109 posts

#tgcf - 105 posts

#me - 104 posts

#sk8 the infinity - 89 posts

#nice - 81 posts

#baby girl - 54 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mmmmmᎷм💯 👌👌 👌нo0оଠoooooоଠଠooooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Levi is dad, Jean is big brother

138 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 17:19:53 GMT

#4

140 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 19:36:00 GMT

#3

a rivamika fic masterlist

Before I start, I feel it's necessary to say that I am a filthy multishipper. If you think this makes me a fake fan, please allow me to suggest that you move along. If not, please feel free to stay. Thank you.

I've had most my rivamika fics hidden for a month. I've detailed my reasons in another post and don't want to repeat them here. I did, however, have another revelation recently that has helped me come to terms with why I did it and subsequently helped me move forward, in a way. I'm not going into detail about that.

A final note before I start: I have one more rivamika fic planned. This will be, barring extreme circumstances, my final rivamika fic. I don't know when it will be finished. Just that that's what it will be.

So, here we go. A masterlist of all of my rivamika fics, ordered by rating and then by date. Enjoy.

gen

among the teacups: The tenure of Miss Mikasa Ackerman as housekeeper in Ackerman Manor. [AU, my first (posted) rivamika fic; I commissioned art for my favorite part, which I must add is near the end and doesn't represent the content of the whole fic.]

of restless nights: In which the twins wake up in the middle of the night. [Post-canon-ish gen fluff drabble.]

a moment's surrender: Eren leaves, Mikasa flounders, and things change. [Canon divergence meant to be a standalone fic, but I was encouraged to continue and...haven't because I can't write longfic. Permanent hiatus.]

teen+

hickeys: She sits in his lap in the late afternoons, running her fingers through his hair. He nuzzles her jaw, kisses her throat, leaves marks on her skin. [AU, suggestive themes but not explicit.]

in the morning light: The sound of birds wakes her. It’s one of those rare days off: for morale and to rest before an expedition. It’s been far too long to wake up without an alarm blasting at her.

She shuts her eyes and starts to doze again when something tickles her ankle. Reflexively, her leg jerks to knock whatever it is away. Before it can connect, a hand catches her foot. She opens her eyes.

“Careful,” Levi says, thumb rubbing her arch. [Somewhere in canon, suggestive themes. Based on art from ask-secretrivamika.]

to force the moment: Three times it doesn't happen, and one time it does. [AU, feat. Captain Mikasa/Cadet Levi. Also based on art from ask-secretrivamika. I don't have any links handy.]

drink and be merry: In which Mikasa drinks and ruins things and Levi is annoyed. [Canon. Prompt response that I posted before I started putting them all under one heading (see: start a scene or two); rated for drinking.]

explicit

allaying the fever: The concern she feels as his back hits the desk and his neck overextends is very much in the back of her mind. She crawls – slinks – on top of him, settling astride his legs.

“Levi,” she says, and he drags his head up to look her in the eye, “say it.” [Canon, complete and total smut.]

eat you alive: In which there is stretching, showering, and some other things. [Canon, complete and total smut.]

it's just a phase: Levi believes that Mikasa is going through a rebellious phase and doesn't understand why she insists on tormenting him. [AU, friends to lovers, very smut.]

over the lunch hour: “This is a bad idea,” he says. She crosses her arms.

“And yet you’re here.” Levi snorts. He sticks his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk over to her.

“Didn’t you say you were going to put a curse on me if I didn’t show up?” He tips his face up to meet her eyes.

“I didn’t really mean that.”

“Of course not. And I don’t believe any of that shit so I didn’t care.” [High School Caste AU, janitor Levi and goth Mikasa, very smut. Also in Russian by...someone. They didn't tell me they were doing it so I only stumbled across it recently.]

in the cards: Levi gives Mikasa a card for Valentine's Day. [AU, feat. middle school babies being cute/sad in the first two chapters and adult rivamika smut in the third.]

other

a heap of images: Entries for the Rivamika Week - All-Time Favorite Tropes.

fake relationship (AU, gen)

hurt/comfort (Canon divergence, feat. Eren's death and aftermath; written in December 2019, probably between gen and teen+)

enemies to lovers (Medieval romance AU, teen+ for blood and suggestive stuff)

arranged marriage (AU, somewhere between gen and teen+)

coffeeshop au (swearing, so teen+ I guess)

pining (Canon, set around/during 123)

happily ever after: a collection of post-canon fics, sorted chronologically (not in the order they were written).

clean-shaven: In which Mikasa reluctantly shaves Levi's face. [M, suggestive, not really smut.]

looking into the heart of light: An early morning tryst. [E, very smut (recently added to the collection because it fits).]

on a fragmented memory: The stream, she thinks, is louder this morning. [Gen, angst and fluff.]

in a wink: A tired mother, a baby who doesn't want to sleep, her father, and a jerk in a tea shop. [Gen, rivamika with bb.]

like a ray of light: In which Kuchel and Mikasa visit Eren's grave. [Gen, Mikasa with rivamika bb.]

lilocks: Mikasa and Kuchel walk over to the tea shop. [Gen, first thing written for this series before it actually became a series.]

disturbing the dust: In which Kuchel asks about the scars. [Gen, feat. rivamika second bb in the background.]

So yeah. That's that. Takeaways? Why does it feel like I wrote and posted more than I did? Maybe I'm including all of the other stuff that isn't rivamika in my head. I had fun, but I think it is time to move on to other things. I'll always love you, rivamika.

147 notes • Posted 2021-05-25 23:26:40 GMT

#2

120, right after shooting Eren

124, right after shooting at Nile :(

137, protecc from recoil

334 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 18:23:53 GMT

#1

Eren: I don't want Mikasa to move on with another guy!

Mikasa: OK.

Mikasa marries Historia. They raise the baby together. Farmer helps.

The end.

345 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 15:13:02 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[nothingeverlost]

Hello there. I just wondered if I could ask for some advice? I have been very depressed lately. I was diagnosed with a chronic illness earlier this year and it's been really hard. I'm usually known for my tenacity. And I really thought that if I just kept going like normal and fought my depression it would get easier. I can't afford therapy right now. I owe my therapist some money that I can't pay off right now unfortunately. And I know I have good friends and a good support system but

I still feel very alone. I feel like all the work I've tried in growing the past few years is slowly being unhinged. I feel cynical. And bitter. And restless. I'm frustrated and yet I have no energy. I feel like sometimes there's nothing to look forward to, no hope of things getting better. I don't know what to do. I feel lost and sometimes it feels like no one around me understands. I don't want to give up on myself or the life I'm trying to create. But I don't know what the next steps are.

When I try to talk to those closest to me they just tell me "chin up" or "things will eventually get better." And I know they mean well. But I think they're uncomfortable sitting in my sadness and frustration. And then I just feel isolated. So I don't know how to open up. Or how to talk about this with anyone. I'm also afraid that if I really opened up, people would lock me away. I know I need help but I'm scared to ask for it. I have no money. And I'm afraid. I don't know what to do.

II

Okay, I’m home now.  I’m not sure if you saw my short post for you earlier, darling.  But of course you can ask for advice or use my ask box to vent and know someone is listening.  You can also use your tumblr if you have one and mark it private and I can respond that way.  Or use the messenger feature.  Some people would rather stay anon and that’s always okay but if you want other options I want you to know they're there.

Is your depression a reoccurring issue before the chronic illness or because of the diagnosis?  I ask because I mentioned support groups in the other post and in addition to group therapy for depression it could help to find a group session about your illness, or chronic illness in general.

Labels like ‘tenacity’ are good when they help us, when we remember that we are tenacious, but not when it feels like a burden.  You’re allowed to not be tenacious, to need help, to stumble.

Sometimes growth is a roller coaster or a winding path.  Even when it feels like things are being undone it can still be growth.  It’s like grief, in many ways.  The grieving process isn’t a straight line; sometimes we think it’s getting better and then a bad day hits and it feel like all the progress we made is gone.  You can’t really see the path you’re traveling or the growth until later.

You say you don’t feel like anyone understands you.  I promise people do, but it can be hard to find them, especially as we’re taught to hide the things we most need to connect on.  You are not alone, my darling.  Other people are feeling lost.  Alone.  Angry.  Feeling nothing at all.  Even the weirdest darkest thought you’ve had has been thought by someone.  This is why I’m really in favor of support groups.  A therapist gives you tools but support groups are people on the same path as you.

What is the next step?  Make it a tiny one.  Forget the big picture for a moment.  What do you need to do to get through today?  Or through the next hour?  Break it down into manageable pieces and if all you can do right now it get from one moment to the next that’s okay.  There have been times when the entire of my world was focused on just getting to the new episode of The West Wing.  That was the good thing that day, that week, that kept me focused enough.  

Think small.  Make a list.  What are the things you need to do to get through the day?  What helps?    For me I have a list of things like ‘must leave the house.’  On a good day that means going grocery shopping, or to work.  On a middle day maybe it’s a walk around the block.  On bad days it’s going to get the mail from the mail box.  On really bad days that walk is when it’s dark so I know I won’t run into anyone.  I have rules for showering and getting changed into different clothes than I slept in.

When it’s bad start small.  Push a little farther when you can.  Keep moving because moving is important.  It’s hard to start up again once you stop.  

It’s hard with friends because they want you to be better, because they care.  But they don’t know how to be here for who you are right now.  It doesn’t make them less of a friend, but it’s hard.  In the same way you set small tasks for yourself you might find some you can set for friends.  Like “Please keep texting me even though I’m bad at replying.  Your messages mean a lot when I read them.  Sometimes your friends are just looking for how they can help and not understanding.

It’s a twin dagger, feeling isolated but not being able to talk.  It’s one reason I write so much; I can say what I need but ‘give’ the words to characters.  Keep trying.

I’m here to listen, darling.  

[hearthhhh]

✧Hello! I'd love a matchup! INFJ,Panromantic Asexual,Female, Virgo. I'm incredibly awkward, because of that I tend to mess myself up a lot. I have a stutter which I myself find annoying. I tend to be shy when meeting people but when I open up I'm frankly a whole other person. I don't have much of a filter with my friends. I enjoy Artsy things, and I tend to be highly critical of mostly everything involving art and generally anything I'm interested it. I'm quite picky, not to mention obsessive.

I pair you with...

🥢 Spoilers for V3 ahead! If this is a problem feel free to leave another ask!

🥢 This ask was a bit more difficult because of the whole V3 plot and the ending and all that. I thought about it and just decided I'd write this ask as if you were a member of the trials as well.

🥢 Kaito is really uplifting and loves getting along with introverts, and originally gets closer to you due to your shy nature! He likes trying to bring up your mood, and is really supportive of your insecurities. Kaito would even try to pay attention to things you're insecure about so he could come off as encouraging as possible.

🥢 Once you start opening up to him, he’s pleasantly surprised, and really excited that you’re feeling more comfortable around him.

🥢 Both you and Kaito rarely have filters around each other. You speak your minds, and enjoy the honesty you two share. It helps that Kaito basically runs on his moral compass, which is pretty sound and easy to understand and agree with.

🥢 You and Maki would get along well! Instead of her becoming Kaito's love interest, you and Kaito would become one of her very good friends! You're less violent and also an introvert, so there're aspects of you two that are pretty similar and could lead to a pretty solid platonic relationship.

🥢 You two stick together pretty close. Kaito is very attuned to making plans, and tries to understand people and their emotional capabilities as well, trying to take off as much emotional loads as possible. So he'd come up with several ways to hang out with each other, seeming as innocent, but really just a way to keep an eye out for you. He's really scared something will happen to you, but he doesn't want to come off as possessive or stress-inducing.

🥢 He really likes your obsessive nature, because Kaito is the same way! When Kaito likes something he's got it set in stone, even if it's just a small whim, he pursues all his goals and wishes really passionately. So Kaito likes seeing people who are just as passionate as him, and is really supportive of your art and will listen to you rant for hours if you'd like, maybe even debate if you need to.

🥢Kaito wouldn't ask you out. He knows he's dying, he can't put you through the emotional turmoil, it'll crush you. As much as Kaito wants to distance himself, he can't, and he thinks it's selfish of him.

🥢 You have to ask him out. It's scary, but so are the killing games. You never know if one of you will die and you need him to know about your feelings.

🥢 When you tell him I'd imagine your stutter taking over. Your shyness takes over but Kaito understands exactly what you're trying to say. He's torn but on cloud nine at the exact same time.

🥢 The days before Kaito's death you spend cuddling and spending time alone, distancing yourself from the others as much as possible. But he disappears into the bathroom for extended periods of time, sometimes Kaito would even leave you alone in one of your rooms claiming to be getting food but coming back empty-handed and forgetting entirely why he'd left in the first place.

🥢 There's a high level of trust in your relationship, there has to be when you're dating in the middle of a killing trials. So you wouldn't expect him to be a killer, only worrying about his safety.

🥢 Then there’s the whole trial business, and the only person you have left is Maki.

I pair you with...

🥢 The Victorian Era was very well known for its artistry, so you'd be able to get by easily as an artist. Especially because you're so critical, I'd imagine it'd make you pickier about what you'd paint, and you'd be able to grow renown pretty easily. Artists that are introverted also create a sense of mystery, so people would become more intrigued.

🥢 Also, I researched career paths for INFJ. I actually found that there are many people with that personality type who run non-profit organizations.

🥢 I got this idea that you'd have an auction for some of your paintings, then give a portion of your earnings to people in need.

🥢 This auction would make you even more well known. So I'd imagine you're a spectacle in the artistry world.

🥢 Because you're so important, it wouldn't be surprising for you to have some pretty high up contacts. That would include Earl Ciel Phantomhive.

🥢 You'd meet Prince Soma at one of Ciel's parties. It's a small get together between others of higher positions, and it's pretty great.

🥢 Except the music's loud, the people there aren't that entertaining, and you don't really want to take to them. You only came to keep up appearances, and you kind of felt like you had to.

🥢You meet Prince Soma and Agni in one of the hallways trying to make it outside for some fresh air. He's really nice, and you two get along very well. After he shows you the doors, the two men stay with you for a bit to talk.

🥢 Prince Soma enjoys being of use to others, and is excited he's able to help you even if it's something as small as showing you the exit. But he's also easily intimidated. So he'd seek comfort in your timid nature, and would try to see past your introverted shell and try to make you more open.

🥢 Once he gets to know you more he's thrilled! Prince Soma loves people with a sense of humour and seems to like yours a lot.

🥢 You two meet more along the streets and stop to talk whenever you see each other. Until you give Soma your address, and tell him he's able to stop by anytime. He takes the invitation up eagerly, and is over almost daily.

🥢 You're surprised he didn't know you were an artist. When he sees several paintings around your larger than average house he's immediately intrigued. And when you tell him of your fundraisers, that's when Soma starts to grow feelings for you.

🥢 Soma really admires you at this point. He'd always seen himself as the mediator of your friendship, a guide. But now he respects you as someone equal.

🥢 As you two start going out more, Soma asks for Agni to accompany him less and less. Then it gets to the point where Soma and you would always spend time with each other alone, usually in the comfort of your home.

🥢 Eventually, Agni has to tell Soma to tell you about his feelings. They're pretty obvious at this point. Soma actually hadn't even realized he'd liked you until it was pointed out. He just really liked being around you.

🥢 I feel like there would be like… a whole system to get into a relationship. Prince Soma was probably the type to be expecting an arranged marriage, maybe even to meet his bride on their wedding day. So I'm not quite sure what traditions would be in place, if this makes sense.

🥢 But anyway! I feel like Soma would be the type who's really excited to get into relationships, so he'd tell you very soon after his realization, if not immediately. He's like a fucking puppy in the best way possible.

🥢 You know exactly what he's trying to say before he even opens his mouth. He asks you in your kitchen as you're making breakfast.

🥢 Being in a relationship with Prince Soma is great. He'd spoil you silly, and Agni would be like a big brother to you. While Prince Soma loves alone time with you, it's important to him that you and Agni get along well. While he wouldn't say it aloud, Soma is always really happy when he sees you two interacting.

🥢 Soma is one for cuddles! He loves to have an excess of pillows and blankets, and builds the best pillow forts.

🥢 You find a lot of your time would be taken up by Soma. He really likes being around you and gets lonely really quickly. While you paint he likes to talk to you, but sometimes gets restless sitting down for too often. He admires you for having the patience to paint for so long.

🥢 He'd be really goofy! Your senses of humour would minimize uncomfy things like getting sick or being sad, and would create the baseline for trust and vulnerability! Basically you two would just be so comfortable around each other and you wouldn't feel like there are any barriers between you two. You'd feel like extensions of yourselves.

🥢 Okay the fluff here made up for the angsty Kaito matchup woo!

I pair you with...

🥢 So aside from Zen's obvious immediate flirtatious nature, I feel like he'd become interested in things that you're insecure about! Zen's all for being uplifting and encouraging self-betterment, but feels bad when people are downright self-deprecating. He just wants people to be the best versions of themselves they can be, but things you can't change about yourself are fine just the way they are. They make you unique in Zen's eyes.

🥢 Zen loves your art! Send! Lots! Of! Pics! He's the cheerleader everyone needs honestly. Zen also loves when you talk about art, and admires how passionate you are. He'd even compare your passion for art to his passion for acting. In short, Zen really respects your talent and passion.

🥢 When you start to open up to the chat a bit more Zen is super excited and really supportive!

🥢 I feel like after you start opening up to the chat more is when Zen starts to develop real feelings for you. He'd show this by flirting a little more, but other than that there isn't any indication at first. It's just the same old flirty Zen.

🥢 Zen's always saying how he'd like to meet you in person, so eventually you do! You two send lots of pictures to the messenger, going shopping and to dinner or lunch afterwards. You two have a lot of fun, and later go on more outings together.

🥢  You and Zen go on outings as friends, though. Even Yoosung tags along sometimes, and you three are constantly trying to get Jaehee to come out and have some fun. Seven and Jumin usually decline your requests if acknowledging them at all.

🥢 Zen's feelings grow the more time you two spend together. It's almost unbearable to be so close to you, not being able to hold your hand yet be able to say such sweet things without your suspicion.

🥢 Eventually Zen invites you out for lunch over call, very different from the public planning you two would do on the group chats. But you don't think too much of it because it's Zen, and you've always been closest to him.

🥢 He really wants to make you feel special! But he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with too much attention. So he takes you to a secluded café that gives off a really homey yet romantic vibe. He asks you out over hot chocolate and cookies, and spoils you rotten that entire day.

🥢 Zen's very clingy but certainly not as clingy as Prince Soma. He loves being around you and cherishes your outings, probably having a huge folder full of aesthetic pictures of you. He'd also definitely screenshot every picture of your art you send and keep it in a folder. He mentions it to you casually one day on a date, showing that your art style has improved pretty well from the first piece you sent to the group chat to the most recent.

🥢 Zen is all for really cheesy and mushy romantic stuff. He texts you a lot throughout the day to tell you that he misses you, is thinking about you, loves you, etc. He's just so sweet and really cares about you and needs you to know.

🥢 Zen loves how shy you are. He finds it cute and endearing, and fondly mentions it many times. You also notice he speaks very softly to you, and his tone is so much different. It's almost as if he's trying to pour every once of love that he can into every syllable. 

[themagiciansreccenter]

The Great Blank Spot: @all-hale-eliot

So much goes into creating fanfiction even before the first words hit the paper. And in-depth spotlight on our writers and the process behind their work.

Tell us about your current project.  

It's called "Eliot Waugh and the Case of the Cocooned Conjurers." It's a Sherlockian romance AU where Eliot and Quentin take on the iconic roles of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson and solve a murder in a magical universe set in New York City in 1893. 

The fics are finally posted from The Trials. Did you participate?

I signed up but then medical issues forced me to drop out. I hope to return to the fic I was working on for it sometime. I was so disappointed, but I have a number of chronic illnesses that are a real challenge for me to face when it comes to having the energy to write. 

What is your current word count?

7,489 for this current WIP

Do you try to write daily? Do you have a word count or other goals you try to hit for each writing session?

I content write full time for a living, so I usually have to wait until the weekend for fic writing. For this WIP, I write chapters longhand and try to complete one per session before typing them up. 

What was the inspiration for this fic?

I read a lot of Sherlock Holmes over the Christmas holiday and wanted to try my hand at writing a mystery in this style. I'm a big fan of Doyle! 

How do you stay motivated between chapters/stories?

I watch The Magicians, I read fic, and I watch interviews with Jason and Hale.

Did this fic require any research? How much research do you typically do for your fics?

I'm trying to stay true to the time period, even if the presence of magic is giving me a bit of leeway. I've been researching the setting for this fic, as well as fashion and food to lend it a bit more authenticity (I hope!) 

Do you typically write ahead or post as you go?

I write longhand because it soothes my anxiety and helps me feel more creative than I do when I'm pecking away at a keyboard. 

How much planning and outlining did you do before you started putting words on paper?

I outlined some of this fic early on, but I haven't planned out the ending yet. I've been making notes before I begin a chapter so I don't ramble, which is a bad habit of mine.

Has it been pretty smooth sailing or rough waters? When things get rocky, how do you handle needing to rewrite sections or scrap scenes entirely?

I cry, have a drink, mourn my darlings, and move on. So far I haven't had to drop any scenes and each chapter has only gone through a minimal amount of editing. 

Excerpt

A brisk rain turned the sidewalk on which I traveled into a reflective expanse of muddy orange light filled with restless ghosts as people hurried past me. The tip of my cane broke the effect with every step I took, sending out ripples in the standing water each time it touched down. I usually walked quite well without it when the weather wasn’t damp, but it had been raining for nearly five days now and Manhattan brooded under a sky so uniformly grey that it washed the colors out of the surrounding buildings, even at sunset, which had passed a moment ago. Even the mighty Empire State Building looked subdued. A carriage passed me and a well-to-do fellow glanced out at me as the horse walked at a steady pace. I was used to such glances—the youthful face under a fall of silver-white hair often startled people, and because I had yet to climb out of my twenties, I could understand their curiosity. I couldn’t tarry this evening, however; I had been summoned to a crime scene by Inspector Fogg, as my experience as a doctor and a soldier in the Great War of Magic was required.

Anything else you want to add/think we should cover?

I'd like to thank you for your interest and thank everyone who's read my fic so far! 

The Great Blank Spot is an in-depth spotlight focusing on the writing process and previewing in-progress fics for our fandom. It is meant to be an organic, ever-evolving feature. Previously interviewed fic writers can reach out to us here, to have a specific work featured. If you’d like to have a work featured but haven’t done the author spotlight, reach out to us to get started. If you have suggestions for questions you’d like to see answered, shoot us an ask!

[mercury-exalted]

The universe seems to be preventing me from going out ever since I got back from Dallas...which is good because I need to stop spending exorbant amounts of money on drinks every weekend/ day of the week pretty much. I did the numbers and if I cut out random drinking I would be living comfortably. I guess I just don't know what I want to replace the random drinking with because it's the only social hobby that I know. The issue with hanging out at other people's houses is that it doesn't provide much opportunity to meet new people n the same way that bar hopping does. I guess I could just go to the bath house irregularly/whenever I need to socialize/find mates. But I wish I had a routine habit/social outlet to release tension there.

It hasn't been that bad though, perhaps my blog is playing a role. I mean, when I get home after work, I feel pretty comfortable in my room. Yesterday I could have just not went over to my friend's place and just stayed on my PC all night...

I'm wondering how reliable this blogging-as-tension-release is. It's been like what..3-4 days of blogging and since then I've felt much more comfortable at home? And this is all due to my Gemini 4th house. It makes sense that I'd need to do it (blog) per that reasoning, but it doesn't make sense how I can maintain the habit consistently and resist the temptation to go out every time the situation arises.

Like, I am starting to see how the desire to go out is actually just tension in my psyche. I haven't fully accepted it yet, and I am beginning to see how blogging releases that tension but putting my ideas out on the public sphere. What I don't see is how going out was the hobby that was determined as the best release of tension for me. I used to not go bar hopping when I was younger than 21..what did I do to release the tension back then?

I fucked. I literally had exorbant amounts of sex. Which is didn't really work. The tension is words and concepts jumbling up in my psyche..banging against the cell walls of my concious. Sexual stimulation/pleasure does nothing to release that. If anything, it would just create delusions because the thick fog of thoughts would create unrealistic ideas of what was going on to my soul/mind as I was having sex.

So that's what I did before I could go out.

Time alone = Build up of ideas = Tension = Need for release (verbal)

Sexual energy actually doesn't build up that heavily in me..or so far I've seen.

The confluence of ideas might have to do with my Jupiter in the 3rd whole sign house as well and it manifests in an Aries way (tension, heat restlessness) that requires some sort of public exposure to cool down (moon conjunct Jupiter also in the 3rd). It's fascinating how sometimes things can be explained across house divisions.

So yeah, it seems like blogging will keep me from going out. I also started microblogging when I was in Dallas which could also contribute to that greater sense of release that started as soon as I got back from Dallas. Bar to none I can't say that there was anything about the trip necessarily that contributed to a change in practice or anything, but with the reasoning around blogging, I can see how my habits have changed given this new outlet for tension.

My bestie's observation was correct then, it is tension. Stretching does work, writing does, but writing publicly does even better. I think it goes to say that blogging is the best outlet for myself and will keep me inside which will allow me to develop other habits and practices that will bring me to a state that is best aligned with my ideal version of myself.

[bondsmagii]

Hi! I saw you mention that your an empath before? At least I think it was you? Anyway I'm currently in the middle of developing a book idea and one character is going to be something akin to an empath and I was wondering if you have any tips? It's similar to an empath because I don't particularly want to call them an empath in case I get things wrong but it's really similar to them just a tad different? The character also has a friend who's a medium and I was wondering if you had tips on that?

I have a lot of knowledge on these subjects, from years and years of reading around and personal experience, so I could definitely help with this! it might help if you had any specific questions, but I’ll throw out some general stuff and apologies if it gets too long!

Empaths

empaths are people with the ability to feel the emotions of others as though it were their own. this is different from sympathy, and the way empaths feel it is different from regular human empathy. whereas most humans can see someone going through something or feeling something and be able to place themselves in that person’s shoes and empathise with them, either positively (being happy because they’re happy) or negatively (crying because they’re crying), empaths will literally take on the emotion of that person like it’s their own. this can create a lot of situations:

for the untrained empath, this can made associating with people all but impossible. people give out emotions without thinking and the empath will soak them all up like a sponge. if their friend is going through a tough time but is dealing with it OK for that day, the empath will be exhausted by their underlying stress. if somebody walks past an empath out in public and they’re feeling something strongly, the empath will soak it up. no matter if the emotions are negative or positive, this is psychologically exhausting.

a lot of untrained empaths a reclusive for this reason. they might not go out much because of how exhausting it is, and they might be night owls simply because there are less people. a lot of empaths will suffer from some level of depression or anxiety over this, because it is essentially a constant psychological assault. 

basically trained empaths can shield themselves from the emotions of others and are therefore able to go out and about and not have any adverse effects. a little more training and the empath can allow certain emotions in while blocking others, making them very buoyant and energetic to be around. this kind of empath will likely be an extrovert.

highly trained empaths can control the flow of emotion. they can choose to take away someone’s emotional pain, and they can also push positive emotions towards a person. a less moral empath might use this ability to push negative emotions on others, too. not all empaths are good. the ability to feel empathy on this level doesn’t necessarily mean the person will be nice. some empaths might use it for personal gain.

out of control empaths (empaths who are untrained and overwhelmed) might accidentally become what’s known as a “psychic vampire”, which is a really ridiculous term but apparently no one’s come up with anything better. this is where they suck the energy out of everyone around them, most likely in a frantic attempt to find something positive.

regular people can also be “psychic vampires”, and they are especially dangerous to empaths. I’ve heard of prolonged exposure to these kinds of people resulting in empaths becoming physically ill, they’re so stressed and exhausted.

so what does this empathy thing mean exactly? yeah, they can feel emotions as though they’re their own and throw energy around, but.. is that it? nope!

empaths have very strong psychic abilities. almost all empaths have paranormal experiences throughout their lives and are very sensitive to paranormal energy. a lot of them may be mediums.

empaths are also known to have prophetic abilities, usually through dreams. this might not be anything major, but it would be enough to notice.

empaths Just Know™ things. very often this is just an innate knowledge that appears with no reasonable way for them to know it. it’s probably because of how tuned in they are to the emotions of others. for example, an empath could pass a complete stranger on the street and Just Know they they recently lost their grandmother, or they’re going through a messy divorce, or their nephew was just born.

children and animals love empaths. they will likely be drawn to an empath and innately trust them. it’s not uncommon for “difficult” animals to bond with empaths and be very affectionate towards them. 

people just tell empaths things. it wouldn’t be unusual for an empath to be minding their own business and have a complete stranger suddenly open up to them. this can, of course, be uncomfortable. 

empaths have a very strong intuition. they’ll get feelings and just know if something is a good or bad idea. if an empath gets uncomfortable and says you should leave a place or a situation,  it’s probably best to do so. likewise if they have a bad feeling about someone – they’re probably bad news.

unless you’re very good at deception, you probably can’t lie to an empath. if some small emotion you’re unconscious of doesn’t give you away, their intuition will probably tell them you’re lying.

particularly sensitive empaths can take on physical ailments as well as emotions. they won’t physically manifest the disease or illness themselves, but they will have similar symptoms. for example, if you’ve sprained your ankle, your empath friend will have a sore ankle. if you’re sick, your empath friend will likely feel lethargic and groggy, too.

this is of course just a general overview, but hopefully that gives you some idea of what it means to be an empath!

Mediums

mediums are people with a connection to the spirit world that allows them to reach over and communicate with spirits in their plane of existence. they can rely messages from a spirit to loved ones still in the living world, and they can also help confused spirits move on. some mediums can even allow a spirit to temporarily use their body to speak through, though mediums with this genuine ability are a lot rarer than the movies would have you think, and it takes a lot of training as it’s very dangerous. 

some mediums might communicate through dreams, and then rely the message upon wakening. this would be good for low-energy spirits, as the dream plane is easier to access and communicate through than physically manifesting in the waking world.

some mediums will be able to get a reading when they go to the location of the haunting, and will be able to rely information as they walk around and receive psychic messages from the spirit. the spirit does not have to be visibly present at all for this to work.

some mediums will receive visions telling them the information they need, such as where to look for a restless spirit’s body, or the location of a spirit’s will that hasn’t been found, or something like that.

some mediums might communicate through the use of apparatus, like a Ouija board or automatic writing. 

some mediums will be able to connect to a spirit from anywhere, so for example if you consulted a medium to talk to your dead grandfather, the medium could do it at their house, and reach out to your grandfather despite not being in a physical location that means anything to him.

some general traits and experiences of mediums:

the medium would have had paranormal experiences and received messages past being a toddler. when we’re young it’s very easy for us to receive such messages and a lot of us probably have a creepy family story about how we say great-grandma when we were three, despite her dying years before we were born. if such experiences persist past toddler age, this is not as usual and the person is likely some form of medium.

like empaths, mediums Just Know Things. they’re sensitive to the vibes of an area, and they often know if something happening there before they’re told, particularly if it was nasty.

a lot of mediums would have had imaginary friends who… weren’t as imaginary as their parents would like to believe.

a surprising amount of mediums are afraid of the dark into adulthood. a lot of mediums report “feeling” things in the dark, like energies or presences, that has persisted long past when the normal childhood fear of the dark should have vanished.

frequent dreaming and realistic dreams are common in mediums. their dream recall will often be very good, too.

like empaths, mediums just get animals. there’s a connection there that both medium and animal can enjoy.

electronic devices can go nuts around mediums, especially when they’re stressed or particularly tuned in to the paranormal. automatic sensors won’t work, radios will go to static, lights will flicker or blow out… it can actually get quite inconvenient.

mediums will often feel people who have passed close by for some time after the death. sometimes the spirit will leave naturally, but some mediums might find they have to let granny know it’s time for her to head off now.

as I said before, it wouldn’t be unusual for a medium to also be an empath, but this isn’t a rule. not all empaths are mediums; not all mediums are empaths. it wouldn’t be strange at all for an empath and a medium to be friends, though – they’d made quite the powerful team! hopefully this has helped, or at least narrowed down any further questions you might have :)

[sagebodisattva]

Practical Detachment in the Modern World

So, in wrapping up the three part series on detachment, our general overview of the philosophical concept has revealed that this particular specialty is a very difficult undertaking for mankind to accomplish. This is why I think it is more apt to be called a discipline, rather then a philosophical concept, as proficiency in detachment requires a prolonged continuous effort, the sustained practice, of which, eventually leading to adept mastery. It is fair to say that the majority of mankind's spiritual struggles all have some kind of relation to attachments. Indeed, the ego's very existence itself could be said to be an embodiment of attachment. Now, this is not to say that this makes the ego bad, or that the ego should be punished or eliminated, as an ego is just an instrumentation, but that one can utilIze the ego as a means to realize that associations with illusions are not an identity. In others words, the true self is not the ego. The recognition of this dates back thousands and thousands of years. Detachment, as release from desire and consequently from suffering, is an important principle, or even ideal, in the Bahá'í Faith, Buddhism, Hinduism, Jainism and Taoism. In Buddhist and Hindu religious texts the opposite concept is expressed as upādāna, translated as "attachment". Attachment, that is the inability to practice or embrace detachment, is viewed as the main obstacle towards a serene and fulfilled life.

Many other spiritual traditions identify the lack of detachment with the continuous worries and restlessness produced by desire and personal ambitions. So this struggle has been the case for the ego ever since the emergence of the ego; that is, as the evolution of consciousness moved from a purely instinctual operating system into self consciousness. Was this shift in consciousness an original sin? Was this development when mankind fell from grace, as some dubious theological myths would have us believe? Well, these types of judgments are unnecessary, and this in itself represents the crux of the overall problem: with self consciousness comes delusion, for to become self conscious necessarily involves the use of false constructs to establish distinctions; and these false constructs are primarily produced and sustained through ideology and the acquisition of knowledge; which thereby give rise to judgments, which in themselves facilitate attachments; that is: anxiety and suffering cultivated through a thinking process that invests a sense of well being and equilibrium in desire, of which, is the constant flux of visceral affect, such as excitement or suffering, that is dependent on perceivables behaving a specific way, accordingly to how they have been framed by the judgments. This isn't ever an issue with the instinctual operating system. Indeed, this only becomes a psychological struggle, aka suffering, with the advent of self consciousness. Without the psychological component, organisms simply navigate feelings, which are not the same thing as emotions; just as, similarly, pain is not the same thing as suffering. People seek to infuse feelings with emotions, or pain with suffering, because they don't want to admit that emotions and suffering are the result of a cognitive disturbance. That they are, in fact, self inflicted afflictions produced wholly by thinking mind narrative about what the feelings and pain mean to the persona. In other words, they are judgments on feelings, which disturb the default calm of the mind with a contrived self imposed deception.

Now some will say that pain and suffering, or feelings and emotions, go hand in hand, but I'm gonna call bullshit on that, not because it isn't the case, but because it doesn't necessarily HAVE to be the case. It's completely optional; like salad dressing.

To illustrate this point, dig this twofold story: In story A, a man on a bicycle runs over the mailman's foot. The mailman is in pain, and reacts to it. He sits down on the curb, writhing and groaning a bit, rubbing his foot, but the pain eventually begins to subside, and he thinks nothing of it. The biker apologizes and the mailman tells him not to worry about it. The mailman resumes his route. The end. In story B, a man on a bicycle runs over the mailman's foot. The mailman is in pain and reacts to it. He is also extremely angry and offended, and feels a bit embarrassed, thinking he may look foolish, or that the biker has possibly done him an injustice. The mailman feels compelled to retaliate. He ignores the pain and punches the apologetic biker in the face, knocking him to the ground, then curses him out, picks up the bicycle and smashes it down onto the concrete. As he gives the biker one last swift kick to the ribs, he screams that he fucked with the wrong one and warns him that next time he'll get it even worse. The police come. The mailman is arrested, charged and hauled off to jail, then later loses his job. The end.

Now, is there any difference between these two stories? If so, what is it exactly? If feelings and emotions go hand in hand, and pain and suffering go hand in hand, then why was there two possible outcomes to this story? Why is that, on one side of the globe, a stoic monk can get lashed with a salted whip, then wink and smile at his abuser, and buy him a beer, while on the other side of the globe, a whiny depressed middle class gothic emo teen will cry and consider suicide because a girl turned him down for the prom on the same day that they ran out of rude black floral skull print sweatshirts at Hot Topic? I'll tell you why: because there's a difference between stubbing your toe and self pity. There's a difference between experiencing an inequity in life and playing a victim as a result. There's a difference between an unconditional love that seeks to set everything free, and a desperate possessiveness that seeks to restrict and control everything in an attempt to mask jealous insecurity. The difference being, in all cases, the stark line between detachment and attachment.

Now, as said earlier, detachment has been around for quite some time, and has been a subject of significance in many different philosophies and theologies throughout the ages. And if you have an active interest in researching any of this, I would strongly recommend focusing mainly on detachment as related to Buddhism, Taoism, and Jainism, as these come the closest to being in accord with the true spirit of detachment, as opposed to Baha'i, Christianity, Hinduism, and Islam, which are worth skipping, unless it's sought as just some general background information to use as filler in your class paper, or if you are interested in learning about the perversions of the discipline, or examples of detachment being done wrong. But after you have concluded your history lesson, you may be wondering about the practical application of the discipline in the modern world. Indeed. How would such an ancient function be pragmatically employed in a contemporary setting?

Well, there are some exercises, or practices, many of which you may have already heard of, but probably never fully appreciated their deeper meaning hitherto. The most common one almost everyone is familiar with is selflessness, which gets expressed in various forms, including charity, civic duty, public service and volunteer work. But, people get this messed up in confusion mostly, because they get caught up in thinking that, what's important about all these practices, is the common good they create. And while the common good may indeed be a nice byproduct of the exercise, it certainly isn't the aim or goal of it. Selfless acts are selfless acts because they are done without any interest of a self. The motive of selfless acts isn't to attain a change in illusion... the aim of selfless acts is to reduce awareness's dependency on illusion to maintain an equilibrium.

Now, wow, did you hear that? This is a very crucial point, a key to the crux of a profound misunderstanding: the motive of selflessness isn't to change illusion, the motive is to gain independence from reliance on illusion. If you can ever ascertain a knowing of this key point, you will have unraveled much of the mystery of spiritualism. You are not here to shape, change, or rearrange illusion. You are here to learn how to discern illusion and not depend on it, no matter what tactics it employs, under pain of even death. This is, after all, already the truth of the matter, but you are apparently stuck in a dream state where you have created this delusion that insists that it is somehow otherwise. The reasons of which, is due to a construct that you attribute as a so called ego, who is seemingly FROM another construct you attribute as a so called world.

So again: Selflessness has nothing to do with the curation of illusion. Selflessness is the transformative method by which awareness gains independence from its reliance on false constructs; and this can be cultivated by dropping expectations, seeking no rewards, and focusing will and intent in the pure engagement of activities with no regard to their outcome. Now this doesn't mean reckless or evil activities, as respect and mindfulness are vital to ensure that the practices don't become more delusional utility directed towards externalizations. This is a discipline, and a discipline necessarily requires precision and mastery, and the recklessness of evil is not conducive towards this end.

This is why, even for those who are wrapped up in the apparent GOOD outcomes of selfless acts, a more bare bones application may be prudent: and this would consist of engaging in harmless nonsense.

“Huh?”

Yeah, I know, right? Isn't that something? Dr. Sage is writing you a prescription for a little harmless nonsense, because, you know, as the old adage goes:

A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.

Yes, it's so true. I love nonsense! And the practical application of such a practice would be partaking in acts that have no rational purpose or motive. Just be nonsensical. Talk gibberish. Move your body in deliberately meaningless ways. And be smart about it. You don't need the men in white coats chasing you down with butterfly nets, so do it alone. You don't need an audience to be effective. This is building up within you the propensity to not associate the doings of the ego to the desire for perceived outcomes. Once you are deft in the ways of nonsense, you will then be able to better apply yourself to selfless acts that produce neutral or good effects, still without any ulterior motives. This cultivates an even stronger mind, as it steps up the challenge for awareness to find peace and contentment in duties of purpose, still without being conditional to the cravings for outcome. This, in itself, becoming a foundation for sustenance and abundance, as a peaceful serene mind attracts without wants, whereas the greedy mind repels with it's toxic passion. Through this, you will learn great patience, which is an essential virtue, as the expression of impatience is simply an experience of anger that is fostered by frustrated desire for outcome... this makes it doubly difficult, as: with impatience, obstacles will leap to get in your path. Letting go, everything will open up to you. It seems contrary, but it isn't.

Much like the beautiful lotus flower that has its roots in the scummy muck of a mud swamp, it's long stalks stretching up to the surface of the water, where it blossoms under the bright sunshine of enlightenment, illuminated fully in all it's glory, breath taking to behold in it's simplicity and purity, beads of water easily sliding off it's pedals, much akin to the discipline of detachment.