#so i can keep my own sanity in these high anxiety times

[myfictionaldreams]

Light in the Darkness // Feyre/Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: It wasn't just Rhys who had been caught in Amrantha's damnatation. For nearly 50 years, you'd suffered with him, in her bed. After years of enduring agony, it becomes almost impossible to resist seeking refuge in the platonic refuge of your High Lord and High Lady. However, after one night of drunken indulgence, you're left wondering if everything you've built to protect yourself is now shattered.

Requested by: ~ ☺ -- thank you so so much for all your support and the request! I absolutely loved writing more acotar/sjm!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, past rape/non-con elements, trauma, PTSD, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, flirting, kissing, drinking, threesome (f/f/m), sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, anxiety, happy ending

Words: 9.4k (lol oops)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Some aspects of life can be predicted. Happiness, sadness, heartbreak, grief. Death. Every ounce of blessings that had graced your life had repercussions and hardships, something that was always centred around the balance of the world. With good comes the bad.

Years upon years had been filled with joy, laughter, and safety with your friends and family. Naturally, being drawn into the inner circle of the Night Court would bring its hardships, but it would be nothing that your friends or your family could get you out of. From outsiders, you were ranked low within the group, not even having a title to the job you provided; however, you often liked to refer to yourself as Rhysand's conscience.

Where Amren would help make significant decisions for the Night Court as the second in command, you'd be there to offer further guidance daily. Every meeting, every decision, every single day, you would be at Rhysand's side, making sure he didn't make brash decisions and, furthermore, protecting his sanity when, on some days, the weight of the world pressed down on him.

Not only did you save Rhys with your words, but as a high fae, you were blessed by the Cauldron with healing and body manipulation powers. The healing was self-explanatory as to why it could help; there were times you'd been able to bring a soul back, even from the point of death. However, such as life, with life comes pain. A power you used so infrequently due to the distress that you'd often forgotten that it was something you could do. Only on a handful of occasions have you needed to use it against an enemy they begged for death in seconds. It was a strain on your mental health to use this, and with Rhys having his own powers, along with his shadowsinger, there weren't many reasons for you to even be needed for this.

Rhysand would never expect or ask you to use this power, increasing your adoration for him tenfold. To say the two of you were close was a complete understatement. When you both live and breathe the same day-to-day life, the form of friendship is bound to shift into something more. Rhys made you feel safe; the scent of night and Jasmine that accompanied him always wrapped around you like a warm hug.

There was no one you trusted more than him, and when the two of you stumbled into bed years ago, it only helped you discover more of yourself, especially with your powers. Pleasure. You could bestow pleasure onto a person with a single thought. Have their knees wobbling, eyes glazing over and back arching as they orgasmed in a single second. It made your nights with the High Lord all the more entertaining.

Even with the closeness the two of you shared, there was still the label of friendship. You loved Rhysand, and he loved you, but the two of you were still keeping back, aware of the possibilities of mates, and until any bond arrived, the friendship would continue with the thrill of pleasure.

As your role to be by his side continued, this was the unfortunate or devastating mistake of how you were in attendance at the ball that Amarantha had created. All it took was a gathering of high lords and a drink of the magically spiked wine, and the world of Pyrthian would be forever changed. The magic within the High Lords was leashed, and no one was safe from the wrath of the Red-Haired Devil.

You could have driven yourself mad with hindsight, regretting not listening to your gut feeling of not trusting Amarantha. Only the knowledge of being able to keep the rest of your family and friends safe in Velaris was the only blessing, even if it meant a life of agony for 50 years.

Amarantha, in all of her cruel ways, personally picked the High Lord of the Night Court with her need for revenge for Rhys' father, killing her closest ally - Tamlin's father. Rhys had always had a formal villainous reputation amongst the other courts, but now, this is further shadowed by the different courts as Amarantha uses him. To hurt others, break them in a split second, and furthermore, keep him leashed to her bed. He was simply her whore and nothing more to the others throughout Pyrthian. This mighty High  Lord, probably the most powerful High Lord there had ever been, had been degraded and dehumanised to nothing.

Nevertheless, where Rhysand stayed, you were by his side.

Rhysand had protected Velaris, the rest of his friends and family that remained at home, keeping them locked away from Amarantha using his Daemati skills, but could not save them.

The first few weeks of the new reign of the Red Devil, you'd been chained in a cell with only darkness and the drip of the waters running down the walls to keep you company. You'd even convinced yourself she had forgotten about you, willing to let you rot away. However, you were forced to kneel before her, and Rhys stood by her side.

There was never a second where you'd blame Rhys for what happened. In fact, over the 50 years, he had saved you in more ways than you could ever repay him for.

You were forced by Amarantha to admit why Rhys kept you so close by. The healing, the pain, the pleasure. Everything spilt from your lips with a single snap of her fingers. Rhysand was her whore, and you were downgraded to being her Harlot, except there was no exchange between sex and money, only sex and not being killed.

Rhy was forced to control minds and occasionally cause pain before death. You were just there to deal unimaginable pain until death, and then both crawl into Amaranthas bed and pleasure her until she promptly sleeps, wakes and starts the process again.

As the years trailed by, the only sight that would keep you going was the flickerings of stars that would light in the depths of Rhysand's eyes when the two of you were briefly alone for mere seconds.

Amarantha kept a tight leash on the two of you. When in her bedroom, you and Rhys were never allowed to touch, and most frequently, you were forced to kneel next to the bed and watch or tie to the bed with the Red Devil straddling your waist with Rhys pleasuring her from behind. You would watch and watch, and then her fingers would snap, and you were forced to make her orgasm, over and over, even with Rhys having spent hours pleasuring her.

These moments were where Rhys would provide support. Even though your eyes had to remain on Amarantha, Rhys would slip through your mental shiels and make you feel numb whilst remaining mentally close so that you didn't feel alone. Often, you would wake without any recollection of the previous night's antics, all thanks to your High Lord, and you wished and begged to the Cauldron that one day you could repay him for keeping you from slipping into the depressive pit that you would never be able to return from.

Then, at the risk of his life, Rhys admitted to having dreams. 47 years, the two of you had been trapped, and he'd been lost to the Red Devil, but hope came to him with glimpses of a woman's life. Hope. It had to be hope, and even though you could only see foggy images that Rhys would share of this person, the two of you would hope that this was a sign of someone who was bringing salvation.

Nearly 50 years had passed, and Rhysand finally admitted to meeting her whilst visiting the Spring Court, falling for the callings coming his way to draw him closer to her. Nothing came as easy as an overnight saviour, but at least you had a name. Feyre. Sweet Feyre. A human girl who had nearly stolen Tamlin's heart arrived under the mountain to declare her love for him and stand up to the Red Devil.

So young and yet defiant. Despite the pain, the torture and helplessness, she never back down. Something in your heart called to her. Maybe it wasn't right to put so much pressure on her to save Pyrthian, but even if it meant you had to take your last breath, you would try anything within your power to save this woman.

Superficial wounds you couldn't heal, but the pain you were quick to vanish as she was kept in her cell between the trials. Moreover, you were more than aware that Rhys was doing just as much to keep her from losing her sanity by having her close to his side, forgetting the world as she drank faerie wine.

The fateful day came, and so many events spiralled into utter chaos. After the final trial, Feyre figures out the riddle but still dies in Amaranthas's hand. Tamlin finally finds courage and slaughters the Red Devil and the High Lords, gathering to bring Feyre back to life as High Fae.

Freedom was unforgettable, and leaving the depths of Under the Mountain was something you'd only dreamed of, but there was now the weight of Rhys' mating bond snapping into place that had the next chapter in your lives beginning.

There was no time to be happy for your High Lord as the King of Hybern began his war whilst simultaneously trying to prove to Feyre that she was safe within the Night Court and away from Tamlin and that you were thanking Rhys and Mor for stealing her from the dreadful place.

Years continue to fly by. Wars, fights, numerous deaths, including Rhys for a moment and finally, FINALLY, the Night court could be at rest and for once indeed be happy with their High Lord and Lady protecting the lands with the inner circle close by.

Having been in turmoil for so long, adjusting to returning home, being surrounded by friends, and trying to remember what it was like to be genuinely safe was more difficult than anticipated.

It was almost like having to try and learn how to live again. What hobbies would truly distract you? What job could you do from day to day as it wasn't necessarily for you to be on Rhysands' side now with Feyre there to aid in the decision-making? There was also the destruction of having survivor guilt and horrific nightmares that had you afraid of the sun slipping behind the mountains every day and night, replacing the light. No amount of talking, counselling or breathing exercises could remind you that Amarantha was truly dead and that everything was fine.

This was how you began to depend on your High Lord and Lady.  Both of whom were closer to you than it seemed to be anyone else. Most days would be spent around either of them, whether to help with court business or simply sitting next to them as they continued their lives.

You had realised long ago that you were mostly in love with Rhys and Feyre and depended on them more than others. They never made you feel guilty for this. Neither seemed to mind and often would seek you out if you were starting to feel guilty and keep them safe; they needed comfort and support just as much as you did.

The damage and trauma from Under the Mountain also fleeted from just your mind. You couldn't train with any of the others; even the slightest touch against your skin would trigger red nightmares. You were unsure if it was the saviour complex you'd built around Feyre or Rhys, but you'd only allow them through your hard outer shell.

"Come back to me. Come back to Velaris. You're safe; I'm here; take a deep breath with me" Feyre's soothing voice drifted through your tense consciousness as she blew out a long breath so you could hear the steadiness of her slow breaths. The sweetness of her scent, lilac and pear, then licked through the wind across the skin of your cheek as she knelt in front of you, grasping your hand firmly and helping to ground you.

Your eyelids fluttered first, testing the movements as your mind and body began to return from the horrors within. The rich blueness of Feyre's concerned eyes is what you forced on first, then the rise and fall of her chest as you attempted to copy the movements. It was the first draw of breath that you realised just how long you'd been holding your breath as your lungs burned and your head spun.

The air of Velaris tasted sweet, or maybe it was the lingering taste of Feyre in the air as the ache in the centre of your chest eased and you became more present. The trembling throughout your body continued, no matter how many times Fey's thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

"You're always safe here, with me. It's just us together. Look outside; the sun is still shining, and there's no darkness here". Feyre continued to gently soothe you with her elegant voice.

You'd always found it so ironic that a place called the Night Court, the power to bring forth shadows and darkness from its High Lady and Lord, was actually the brightest and most beautiful home. Free. Unlike how it was Under the Mountain.

Tension struck your spine as your thoughts drifted back to the nightmarish place. Feyre's grip on your hand loosened as she shifted closer to cup both hands around your face, forcing your eyes on her again.

"Don't go back there, stay with me. Talk to me, I want to hear your pretty voice, Honey". It was both the use of her nickname for you and the warmth of her fingers on your face that brought you back from the dizzying nightmares.

Opening your mouth to follow your instructions, you were unsure what to say at first, worried that all that would dribble out would be frightened whimpers, but then a little fleck of something at the corner of Feyre's eyelid caught your eye as your fingers hovered above the area.

"You have a freckle right here that I've never noticed before", you say in a whisper before clearing your voice and smiling at your High Lady.

Feyre matches your grin, showing her teeth whilst doing so and tilting her face so that you're not cupping her face just as she was yours. "Do I? I've never noticed before. Guess I'll have to add it to my portraits".

Your index finger stroked over the freckle as your thoughts spoke before you could probably think as you admitted, "It's beautiful". Usually, only her mate caused the pinkness to blush across her cheeks as she tried to duck and hide her face, the golden hair half drawn into a ponytail now curtaining her away.

Instinctively, you brushed the offending pieces behind her pointed ears, giving you a clearer view of the beauty of Feyre Archeron-Moonbeam. As her sky-stained eyes flicked back up to yours, she coyly softened her smile. And you're a big old flirt; she uses her daemati skills as her lips remain still so that only you can hear.

Only for you, my High Lady, you respond similarly. However, the flirtatious talk was then interrupted by a third, more silky, deep voice joined as the scent of Jasmine and the crispness of night wrapped around you in a warm hug.

I object. I, too, think you're a big old flirt to me, too. It could be my handsome good looks and effortless charm. The intense eye contact with Feyre snapped as you both turned toward the doorway where Rhys now casually leaned against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his black trousers and not a single hair out of place. The hypnotic violet eyes wandered over Feyre's form first before doing the same with you before the tension eased in his shoulders.

Scoffing as you and Feyre stood, releasing each other's faces and turning towards him entirely, you spoke the following words aloud. "Excuse me, Almighty High Lord. I think you'll find that you're older than me and a much bigger flirt".

Feyre laughs as she naturally falls into his side, their arms wrapping around each other's waists and his lips dipping to kiss her tenderly across the forehead before focusing his attention on you with a wicked grin.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Love. I only flirt with my darling Feyre". His mate gently slaps a hand against his chest. As you all know, that was one of the biggest lies to slip from his lips. Rhys simply grabs her tattoo-covered hand and kisses the knuckles before venturing further into the room, only stopping when toe-to-toe with you.

Your neck ached as you stared up at him, admiring the twinkle of stars in his eyes as he asked, Do you want to talk about it?

You knew he was referring to your momentary lapse in consciousness moments ago. Losing the courage to maintain eye contact, you look across Velaris, noticing how the sun reflected and sparkled against the water flowing in the Sidra.

Suddenly having no energy, your shoulder shrugs nonchalantly, even though you knew the man before you could read you better than any other. "Not really".

Warm, calloused fingers grip your chin, turning your face back towards Rhys as you find that Feyre is now by your side, her fingers interlocking with yours, both touching you, the only two to have done so since being Under the Mountain, even if they were innocent touches.

"You can always come to us, day or night. You know that, right? Just call out for us, and we will come", Rhys reassures carefully, his eyebrows drawn together with concern.

Glancing between the mated pair, you try to ignore the burning behind your eyes from the threatening tears as you squeeze the hand holding yours and smile up at Rhys. "What would I ever do without my favourite High Lady and Lord".

Rhys grins down at you, keeping his hold on your chin as he leans down to kiss your cheek, remaining there for a second longer than socially acceptable as you suck in a quick breath as Feyre copies the kiss on the opposite cheek. The two of them move away at the same time as you struggle to control your pounding heart and ignore the desperate throb that warmed your core from being between them both.

It was always like this with the three of you. The longing touches by both of them. The ones that would fuel the dreams would leave you feeling regret for thinking of your friends in such a way, even if it distracted you from your dark thoughts. 

To everyone else, it seemed that you were all close. Still, when the three of you were alone, something constantly shifted, and as much as you tried to remember they were mates and nothing further would ever happen, the lasting effects of the increased pulse and arousal remained. Even though you would never act on these feelings, they made you feel alive and safe.

You noticed it then, the shadows that creep into their eyes as their nostrils flare, smelling your dampening arousal. Like always, you take a step back and try to regain control over your actions, masking your emotions with humour.

"You two are naughty. Do you often kiss your friends like that".

Feyre's giggle only adds to your body's reaction as she links her arm through yours and shrugs her shoulder, "I don't know what you're referring to. We were just being supportive", her tone was laced with sarcasm.

Rolling your eyes, your arm taps the arm holding yours, "Of course you were". Leaning into her side, the two of you glance up at Rhysand, who is silently watching the interactions. Eventually, his eyes flicked to Feyres, who tilted her head with a knowing smile. Looking between the two, you sigh dramatically, "I hate when you both talk like that. It's like you're showing off that you can speak mind to mind. Some would call it rude to talk like that without including your company".

Rhys finally smirks as you notice the sweet and seedy tang that now invaded your scents, mixing with the smell of your arousal quickly; you take a step back from them, assuming they're both flirting mind to mind as you can now smell how horny they both were.

"Alright, well, now I know what you're both thinking. I'm going to take that as my opportunity to leave, " you explain whilst walking towards the exit like you usually did when the mated pair became obsessed with the other in similar situations. However, a shadow wraps around your wrist and halts your movements, so you must turn back and watch as Rhys' arm secures Feyre's shoulder.

"How do you know what we are thinking about?" Rhys asks casually.

Once more, you roll your eyes in exasperation, "because I can smell it, and you are both anything but subtle".

"Hmm", he contemplates for a second. "And what exactly do you think we're dreaming about?"

Your tongue suddenly lay heavy in your mouth as you look confused between them both, noting that Feyre's cheeks are once more flushed with embarrassment, or was it arousal?

"Is this a fun game for you both? I'm not sure I'm interested in guessing what you two do behind closed doors". A lie, but they don't need to know this as those thoughts had been fueling your quiet nights between your sheets.

The High Lord and Lady's eyes both lower to watch as your thighs squeeze together to ease the worsening ache there, not realising how noticeable your movements had been as you cough to recapture their attention back to your face.

"Maybe I should have phrased my question differently", Rhys begins to say as he licks his lips. "Who exactly do you think we are dreaming about?"

Your frown deepens with the confusion that only seems to worsen with each word Rhys says. Feyre takes control of the conversation as she steps forward and out of Rhys' hold until she is in front of you, looking like the beautiful High Lady that she is. Her shoulders rolled back, her head held high, and the confidence only added to the pulsing and fire between your legs.

Carefully, you watch every single flicker of emotion and movement from Feyre. From the way her lips part to take in a deep breath, the subtle hardening of her nipples beneath the thin blue shirt she wore, to the way her pupils expand to match the sweet scent in the air. "I, for one, was not and am not thinking of Rhysand", she speaks in a lower undertone than usual, not flinching from your unending stare.

It was your turn to open your mouth, licking the dryness while attempting to think of some kind of response, but it seemed that your mind was void of all conventional thoughts. So much so that the arrival of Morrigan as she winnowed into the room had the three of you flinching and jumping to face the new arrival.

The tall blonde's nose wrinkled as she glanced between her cousin and his mate, "By the Cauldron, will you two leave the poor girl alone with your nasty thoughts? It smells like a Pleasure house in here", Mor claims as she flicks her luscious hair over her shoulder.

You take a step back, thankful that Mor only thought the thick smell was from Feyre and Rhys and not you as well.

"Morrigan, a pleasure as always, dear cousin", Rhys drawls as he casually picks off some invisible lint from his shoulder. This sight has you smiling, knowing he was covering his discomfort with the movement.

Mor flicked her gaze over Rhys before dressing each of you with enthusiasm, clasping her hands together, "So tonight I've convinced the others to come to Ritas, and I need you three to also join to have the complete team there".

"I'll be there, " you say quickly, deciding you need something more substantial to drink after this conversation.

"Us too", Feyre answered as she glanced over her shoulder towards you with a not-so-subtle wink.

Hours later, after the sun had set and your anxiety had risen for a moment, you were now encompassed in the inhibitions of the alcohol humming through your veins. Ritas was as busy as always, and being surrounded by friends, good music and even better drinks, you were very much in your element of happiness.

Despite your friends being gathered around the table you always resided at or in the centre of the dancefloor, you were happy in your little corner of heaven in Ritas, where you could sway on the spot without worrying about feeling strangers' bodies knocking into yours.

The conversation continued to play over in your mind as you felt the coolness of the sweat dripping down the middle of your spine. As much as you love Mor, you could have cursed her to prison for interrupting before discovering who Feyre and Rhys were referring to because even though your heart screamed that it was about you, your mind tried to convince you otherwise. There was no way that your mated friends were turned on by you.

You're drawn away from your thoughts as a slender arm slides around your neck, and the sweet smell of Feyre wraps around you, replacing the salty sweat from the room. Her grin matches yours as she tips her head back, swaying her hips in time with yours as your fingers clasp to the thin material of her peach dress around her waist, pulling her closer.

From the way she laughed, you knew she was just as drunk as you but nevertheless still as beautiful as ever, even with the way her golden hair stuck to her face with the sweat and the glassy sheen over her eyes. You were happy to see her letting go and fully relaxing; she deserved it more than most.

You weren't sure which of you tightened your hold of the other, but now your faces are pressed together, her lips hovering next to your ear so that you could hear her say, "We didn't finish the conversation earlier".

Your feet somehow become tangled with hers as you both lose your footing, but a steady hand from behind keeps you both upright as Rhys' chest presses against your back. One of his hands remains on your waist, his thumb brushing in a circle, and the other reaches around your side to grip Feyre, pulling her even closer against your chest until your breasts are squished against hers.

"Wh-What conversation?" you pretend to forget, the rest of Ritas drowning away in the background.

"Don't play coy with us; I can smell your arousal already", Rhys growls into your other ear. You forget to breathe momentarily, so Rhys's tone calms, "Easy, breathe for us, it's ok. This will always remain a safe space". You appreciated his comfort, but for a moment, all you could think about was the way his lips caressed the shell of your ear.

I think you're beautiful, Honey. Feyre speaks dreamily mind to mind as she pulls away to look deep into your mind mesmerisingly. Her delicate fingers stroke down your cheek as her eyes flick between yours and the lips you're biting. I want you. She states this with such confidence and not an ounce of alcohol slurring her words that your knees wobble.

"I want you too", you finally whisper to her, unsure if the alcohol was giving you courage or making silly decisions on your behalf.

"And you know that Rhys wants you too; nothing about that has changed", Feyre continues as you glance over your shoulder to look up at Rhys as he kisses the side of your head. You nod, understanding that she was referring to your past with him.

"I think we should find somewhere more private, don't you?" Feyre continues as you agree with her.

One second, you're in Ritas, and the next, you're in the comforting bedroom in the townhouse of Feyre and Rhys. The instant calmness of the loud music faded, and the delicate touch of the wind as it floated through the open archway to the balcony. Sighing at the coolness as it kissed against the exposed skin of your arms, you let it distract you from the chaos erupting in your heart and mind.

Rhys moved away first, and before you turned to see what he was doing, Feyre stepped back and grabbed your hand. The two of you laughed wholeheartedly while stumbling over to their gigantic bed.

You both collapse into the centre, laughing at nothing as the springs cause you both to bounce before settling and wrapping your arms around each other.

Rhys leans against the bedpost at the base of the bed, smiling down at the two of you, especially as Feyre lifts her feet and wiggles them in his direction. "Come on, High Lord. Look busy", she giggles as Rhys smirks, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and dragging her feet into his lap. Carefully, he unbuckled the straps of her heels, dropped the shoes onto the floor and carefully kissed the top of her knee as the dress she wore now pooled midthigh no that she was lying down, and then his sights were set on you.

With long strides, he's around the other side of the bed, now closest to you, and begins to remove your shoes as well, but then your feet remain over his thighs, and the reality of the situation finally dawns on you. Like he had with Feyre, his eyes never leave yours as you forget to breathe altogether, and he kisses your knee delicately.

Feyre raised to lean on her fist so that she could look down at you as your gaze turned from one to the other.

"You'll tell us if it's too much, I mean", she asks, appearing more sober as you, too, notice the liquid courage seems to have disappeared from your system as you nod in agreement at her. She smiles as Rhys' fingers caress from your ankle up to your calf. "I've never kissed a female before", she admits as the hand she isn't leaning on reaches across to run her fingers down the side of your face.

"I think you'd enjoy it", you say, sounding breathless, becoming lost in the desire that darkens her usually bright eyes. You're encouraged to continue as her fingers continue to explore your face and linger on your lips. "Kissing a man is nice and dominant, rough. But with females, they're soft, sweet, gentle but demanding if needed."

Feyre bites her lower lip as she glances at Rhys for a split second before turning her attention back down to you. "I want to kiss you", admits eternally.

"I don't think your mate would appreciate me touching what's he", you say, trying to remain as level-headed as possible, knowing that the mind between mates should not be interfered with.

Feyre's eyes gleam with mischief as she looks down at her mate, who has remained silent so far. "My mate wants to kiss you too", she confirms.

"More than you could know", Rhys then speaks, his tone taunt and deep, like he is trying to hold back, but it is all the confirmation you need.

Reaching up to your High lady, you cup her jaw and pull her close, meeting her halfway as your lips connect. The two of you forget to breathe momentarily, simply remaining in place and allowing each of your emotions to escalate before your movements finally catch up to your pounding heart.

Your lips press more firmly, moving against hers until they relax and open, giving you the perfect position to tease your tongue between her lips. You both moan, especially now that you can taste her, feel her loosening and falling more into the kiss, finding the courage to push your head back onto the bed and become more demanding.

Your fingers slip through her hair as you greedily try to taste the other. She was sweet, oh so fucking sweet you could have drowned in her and thanked the Cauldron for giving you the opportunity. Her full lips are cushioned against yours until you're both starving of oxygen and needing to pull back to breathe.

A second, this lasted before her face wasn't above yours anymore, and your High Lord was leaning over your body, his hand now cupping the entire side of your face as he kissed you with greed. The sensation of nostalgia hit, the taste that you'd grown fond of over the years of intimacy before Feyre crashed through your senses. Yet, there was something new and exciting with this kiss, even as you continued to stroke through his mate's hair and hold her to your side as Rhysand bruised your lips, his tongue entering your mouth for a brief second as you moaned.

Then he's pulling back, and you're welcomed to the beautiful sight of Feyre and Rhys desperately kissing. You'd seen them kiss more times than you could count, but being this close, having each of them still clutching onto your body in some way.

Feyre was the first to ease away, tilting her head slightly so that Rhysands lips could move to the slop of her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses until reaching the strap of her dress on her shoulder and easing it down. Coping his movement, you, too, moved the strap off of her other shoulder and the material pooled below her ribs, exposing her breasts to you. There wasn't a second wasted before you moved to lick one of her perked nipples as Rhys nibbled on the other.

The soft moan from Feyre lit a fire in your belly as you continued to taste the sweetness of her skin, but then your head was moved back as Feyre demanded your mouth with hers once more.

With your back pressed against the bed, Feyre attempts to move over you but then halts herself, "I don't know what I'm doing" Feyre giggles.

Grinning up at her innocence, you admire the way that her eyes are half-lidded and swollen lips are pulled between her teeth as Rhys continues to caress her nipples and breasts with his mouth and hands.

Tucking a stray curl of golden hair behind her ear, you explain, "Touch me like you'd touch yourself. Do you touch yourself?" you ask, clarifying. The apples of her cheeks had already risen from the alcohol and kissing, but now they deepened in the shade as she said yes. Rhys growls against her chest at the thought of her touching herself and then begins to remove her dress further down her body until she's naked. You see, seeing that she'd gone without underwear and reached to touch her now slightly sensitive nipples.

Once more, you admire how she hitches a breath at the touch. She still seems hesitant as her fingers draw your dress's edge against your collarbones. Rhys, also sensing her nerves, lies on the other side of you, resting his head on his fist as he wraps his large hand around Feyre's small one.

"Here, let ms show you, Darling", he explains lowly, and you notice that he's now topless, the muscles flexing with his movements and bat wings flared out behind him, hovering in the air.

You and Feyre watch as Rhys moves her hand over your chest, cupping your breast over your dress and squeezing firmly. You can't help but rub your thighs together as the low pleasure builds in your already aroused body, the air thick with seedy scents from all three of you.

Rhys then catches your eye, winking cheekily with a handsome smirk. Within a blink of an eye, all clothes that remained on his or your body disappeared, and now Feyre's hand was pressed directly against your skin.

Your back arches slightly into the touch, pushing your breast into her hand, and then it's your turn to gasp as Rhys moves her fingers to pinch your nipple fiery, tugging it away from your body and then pressing a thumb against the aching area.

It was a sight you adored watching as Feyre tentatively began to learn how to touch your body. There was so much you wanted to do to both of them, and as much as you wanted to give Feyre a chance to move lower, you didn't like the attention just on you. It was challenging to decide whether to touch him or her, but as it was Feyre's first time with a girl, you wanted to see if she enjoyed your face between her legs.

"Feyre, can I be on top of you?" you ask her with a surprisingly pitched voice.

She grins as her eyes glow ever brighter as she rolls onto her back, "You don't have to ask".

Returning her smile, you slip around Rhys and straddle Feyre's waist, leaning down to kiss her hungrily for a few seconds before moving backwards, lower down her body. "I want to taste you". Your words pressed against her skin as your mouth journeyed south, kissing the peaks of her breasts down her sternum and toned stomach. Her breaths were coming out in quick huffs as she squirmed on the bed, legs spreading as your body fit between them, your face pressing against the softness of her thighs.

Feyre's arousal was evidenced by the wetness that now caressed your cheek as you nuzzled yourself closer, resting your weight on your chest and arse perked in the air as you felt the High Lord move behind you. Blowing cool air over Feyre's beautiful cunt, you loved how responsive she already was as she shivered and gripped tightly to the sheet beneath her, looking down her body at you.

Whilst holding her eye contact, you finally lowered your mouth to her, tongue sweeping over her labia and tasting her salty but uniquely beautiful juices. The High Lady's gasp was like music to your ears, especially as you pressed more firmly, dipping beneath and stroking over her clit and feeling it throb against your tongue. "You taste so fucking good".

Rhys, who was licking his lips at the sight, began to hover over both of you, kissing down your spine, causing goosebumps to rush to the surface of your skin. He, too, began to use his tongue to pleasure as he knelt behind you, flicking his tongue into your cunt and pushing in. You groan, and in turn, Feyre does, too.

"I've missed this", Rhys admits from behind as he circles your hole with his fingers, carefully easing a single digit within. This was the first time you'd been penetrated by anything in over 50 years. Amarantha had often tortured you with your arousal, making sure you were never given anything to ease the ache, but then after her demise, even when you touched yourself, you were so sensitive it would only take clitoris to play for you to orgasm.

Your back arches, pressing your breasts further into the bed and arse harder into Rhys' face as he rocks his finger in and out before adding another and beginning to curl his fingers until your whimpering into his mate's cunt. Warmth flushed over your face as you realised just how quickly you were close to orgasm, so you moved with more enthusiasm as you sucked on her clit and then pressed your tongue firmly against it. Then, for the first time in 50 years, you used your powers because you wanted to, not because you were being forced to.

Rhys and Feyre both moan loudly enough that the bed trembles. You'd caused the sensation for him that his cock was now being wrapped tightly down someone's throat and Feyre to fill full internally, with someone caressing the sensitive nerves within her cunt, both nipples being sucked on by an invisible force.

"What was that?" she cries out as she closes her eyes, her hips now rotating on their own accord as she chases her high. You could have made her orgasm with your powers but didn't want to overwhelm her immediately, so you settled in softly as you continue to circle her clit.

Not stopping to answer her question, you match the sensations you're going through and then as Rhys' thumb pressed against your clit and the hurricane of an orgasm pulsed through your cunt and abdomen, you made sure that both mates also came at the same time.

Rhys grunted, one hand coming to rest on your hip and squeezing the flesh as he humped against the bed, staining the sheets with his seed, and Feyre coated your mouth with her arousal, her thighs almost crushing you in the process, but you would have died happy right there.

While still trying to catch her breath, Feyre suddenly announces loudly, "Sit on my face". You and Rhys' face snap up to look at her, laughing at the crudeness of her words that aren't usually that forward. She appears sheepish for once, asking, "What? Did I say it wrong?"

"Not at all", you begin whilst crawling up her body until you're face to face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

With Rhys' steady hands on your hips, you moved to kneel on either side of your High Lady's face, looking down your body at her excited expression. Still reluctant, it takes Feyre's tattoed fingers to wrap around your thighs and pull your body down before her mouth is on your intimate area. You weren't sure who moaned louder, you or Feyre, as she started by licking and tasting between your folds before building more enthusiasm and dipping the tip of her tongue into your pussy.

"You're doing so good", you praise whilst holding one hand on the headboard of the bed and the other slipping into Feyre's hair. Glancing over your shoulder, you admire Rhys, who was on his knees watching the two of you, his hand wrapped around his surprisingly already hard cock. He looked almost godly in this position, the tattoos of the mountains on his knees gleaming at you for more than one reason, his wings spread wide behind him. "Look busy, High Lord; I think our beautiful High Lady's cunt is looking lonely down there".

"It would be my honour, Love", Rhys agrees, moving closer and easing his mates legs over his thighs as he lowers the tip of his cock over her clit, teasing her for a second before entering her. You could feel the rush of air against your pussy as she gasps, rotating her hips as she rocks against Rhys.

You match the movements, rolling your hips against her face as her nose knocks against your bundle of nerves and her tongue moves ever deeper. Everything felt so good; your body was alive with emotions and buzzing nerves. You could have died happy right there, especially as your face is then tilted back and Rhys' mouth is on yours, kissing whilst fucking his mate.

Even with his tongue down your throat, you wish you could praise Feyre; she makes you feel so good, even though it is her first time doing this. And Rhys, he always knew how to leave you breathless and begging for more.

You weren't even prepared as your orgasm rocked you very well. Rhys had to half hold you up as your body trembled, cunt squeezing and pulling around Feyre's tongue until the sensations lessons at you collapsed next to the pair, trying to catch your breath.

Then you watched, with awe and amazement, as Rhys fucked Feyre, their fingers all over each other, grasping and holding as both of them eased closer to their peak. But even then, when both were breathless and arching their backs, you were still being grabbed and included with kisses and touches until all three were motionless in the middle of the bed.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement, having not had two orgasms in quick successions in so long, and the thrill of emotions was enough to have you falling asleep almost immediately. Not before you're checked in by both of them, Rhys wraps an arm around your waist, and Feyre's head rests against your chest.

"Are you ok? I mean - was that alright for you?" she whispers, sounding just as exhausted as you.

"It was perfect", you respond before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

Waking up was not the blissful peace you'd hoped it would be. The thrill of the alcohol had completely gone from your body, and all that remained was a heavy sickness of guilt in your stomach. Last night was beyond perfect. Everything you could have wanted and more, but reality was your worst enemy.

Feyre and Rhys were mates, not only this but your High Lord and Lady. A fun night of relieving tensions for them meant so much more for you; emotions that had attempted to lay dormant were now screaming in your mind that you'd made one of the worst mistakes yet. They wouldn't want you. They couldn't have you anyway. No matter how deep the feelings ran, there was no such thing as a mates pair having a third join.

When the pair would wake, you knew it would be full of awkwardness and 'let's never do this again'. So, with great difficulty, you began to untangle yourself from the duo, careful not to wake either of them as you climbed out of bed.

It wouldn't happen again, and the sooner you realised this and came to terms with it, the easier the pain in your heart could ease. Grabbing your dress that was folded on a nearby chair, you slipped it on and, with your shoes in hand, left without glancing back at the sleeping couple.

You had a room in their house, much like the rest of the inner circle, but there was no way you could remain in the same room as them for a day, at least so, after changing into more comfortable clothes and hiding under a coat, you left to go to your own home.

It was on the other side of Velaris, and on the walk there, with the sun slowly beginning to rise and wake up the other occupants of your home town, you had time to overthink every single touch and moan from last night. Eventually, you arrived at your abandoned apartment, having hardly slept here since your nightmares were so crippling that you needed to stay near Rhys and Feyre at all times.

You attempted to distract yourself by scrubbing your skin raw, trying to remove the scents of both of them away, but when that didn't work, you moved to deep cleaning your home, which now had a thick layer of dust and cobwebs across the surfaces. This was until you could collapse with exhaustion into your cold bed.

The nightmares were there, so violently, in fact, that you were startled awake because you couldn't breathe. Your mouth opened to scream for Rhys to save you but stopped, biting on your tongue until blood coated your mouth. Scrubbing a heavy hand down your face as you caught your breath and eased the ache in your chest, you glanced out of the window, seeing the sun high in the sky, meaning it hadn't been that long since you'd fallen asleep.

Your stomach gave a hungry growl as you sighed, collapsing back onto your pillow, staring aimlessly towards your ceiling.

I was going to give you one more hour of rest before coming to find you, but it seems you've beaten me to it. Rhys' voice echoed in your mind in a deep drawl that had a fluttering of pain seep into your chest as you remembered last night. Deciding to do something you've never done before, you tried to ignore him, turning over and pulling your bed sheet over your head and shutting down your mental shields, but he simply pushed them aside with his talons.

Why are you there and not at home?

Without thinking, you snapped back sassily, This is my home.

He didn't comment on your tone as he continued to ask. Why did you leave?

I needed to shower. You answered simply, knowing it was a useless excuse.

We could have showered together. Rhys purred back, and even his tone was your core warming. Unsure of what to reply with, you decide remaining silent was your best option, so he filled the silence with more questions. I don't want to intrude on your personal space but don't block us out. Last night was-.

I know.  You cut off his sentence, not wanting to hear his rejections. It's fine. I'll just speak to you later, Rhysand.

Rhysand? When do you ever call me that? He sounded more urgent with his questions, so you try even harder with your mental shields until a thick wall separates the two of you, and his words are finally silenced. Your emotions finally snap as you sob until you can't breathe.

You remained in this position for the rest of the day. Your hunger is now dormant with the sickness in your chest. The tears would dry and then start again as you feel the ghost of their lips against your skin with the memories that continued to spiral through your mind over and over again. Eventually, the sunset, and you were left with the shadows from the fae lights to keep you company.

Deciding the bedroom only made you feel worse; you move into the living room, sit on the couch, and stare at the wall.

At one point, you could feel the stroke of gentle fingers against your mental shields, but you kept them in place, deciding it was best to ignore Feyre as well. However, a firm knock came on your door late into the night. You wanted nothing more than to ignore it, to leave whoever was there to think you were asleep, but as the knock came again, you decided to just get it over and done with, already knowing who was there.

Opening the door, you're greeted by Feyre and Rhys, holding a plate of your favourite food and both smiling gently towards you, their eyes searching over your body to check you're well but noticing how red and bloodshot the whites of your eyes were.

"A peace offering":  Feyre offers the place towards you, but you don't take it; you step out of the way and allow them to enter your home. Moving further into the room, you returned to the corner of the couch, avoiding their eye contact as you tucked your knees beneath you and hugged a pillow to your chest.

Feyre places the plate on the small table before you and sits to your right, while Rhys sits opposite in the armchair.

"I've never actually been here before. It's cute." Feyre continues trying to cheer you up somehow, but you ignore her.

"I'm sorry", you finally painfully say, wanting to get it over and done with.

"Sorry?" Rhys asks in confusion, leaning forward until he rests his elbows on his knees. "For what?"

You couldn't help but flinch, turning your shoulders in to appear smaller. "For last night. For overstepping in your relationship. I shouldn't have let my emotions dictate my actions. I've- I've just been so lonely, and I trust you both more than anyone, but you're mates, and I know what's happened is unforgivable and-".

A delicate hand covers your mouth, stopping your flow of words as Feyre leans forward with fire lighting her eyes, eyebrows set furrowed. "Would you stop trying to say how me and Rhys feel, please? Because I think you'll find you're incredibly wrong with every single thing that you say". Her hand begins to lower, and you open your mouth to battle what she has said, so she quickly keeps her hand over your mouth. "Nope! No talking, just listen. We don't regret anything about last night".

Without using your mouth, you roll your eyes, but that only earns you a squeeze against your cheeks. Rhys then begins to talk, "She's not lying. There isn't an ounce of regret in my body" his eyes remain steady as he stares at you.

"Yes, Rhys and I are mates, and the thought of someone touching what's mine fills me with murderous rage, but when I watched the two of you touch and kiss, I felt anything but negativity. You've not just been anyone to me; you're special to both of us. More than you could ever know."

"You saved my life under the mountain. Without you, I wouldn't have survived her", Rhys admitted, referring to the one person you hated more than the King of Hybern. At seeing your relaxed state, Feyre finally loses her hand from your face as you stare at the deep, raw emotions on Rhys' face, the sharpness as his jaw tensed.

"You saved me too", Feyre continues as you look towards her now. "In those dark dungeons when you would visit to keep me company or healy my body and mind, there's no way I would have survived it all".

She takes your hand, squeezing your fingers as she talks. "You haven't just been a friend to us. Even now that I and Rhy are mates, I feel this longing to be near you. I often thought maybe we are meant to have more than one mate because the way I feel for you isn't just lust".

Your breath was out heavily, not realising you'd been holding your breath as they both spoke, a lightness filling your heart and mind. "I thought you both would come to regret what we did. That my emotions were just one way because you saved me more times than I could ever begin to list. You're my closest friends; save me from the dark each night, but after what we did, I thought I'd overstepped the boundary, and you wouldn't want to see me again".

"Well then, you don't know me then, do you? Because I don't back down from what I want, and I meant what I said when I said I wanted you," Feyre responds passionately as your gaze flicks from her eyes to her lips before Rhys inches forward until kneeling beside you both, his hand resting over yours and Feyres joined hands.

"This may be difficult to understand. Yes, we are mates, but you have always meant something close to me, and I've known for a long time that Feyre feels similarly. I want you, Love, like I want Feyre. The thought of not being able to have you or someone else's hands on you makes me want to strike everyone down" he pauses to take a deep, steadying breath as he rolls his neck to ease the tension and anger that burst from him as his jealous emotions overtake him. "If you don't want to be with us, we'd understand and return to how we have always been. But we can't lose you, even as a friend".

You scoff, unable to hold back your reaction, as you sit up with a burst of energy, looking between them. "Of course, I want you both! I thought it was obvious. There's no way I'm letting either of you go" Your fingers tighten in their hold as you finally smile. Rhys and Feyre sigh in relief. "I don't understand how this is going to work, though, between the three of us. How do we even explain this to the others?"

Rhys shrugs his shoulders, "It's not for them to get. This will be understood with time, but let's concentrate on each other, being together and learning this new dynamic. It's not anything to rush, just that we each understand that we have each other".

Life came with its highs and lows. Even at its lowest, the smudging of hope could draw you out and lead you on a whole new path. All those years ago, never would you have thought you could be with two of the most remarkable people of all of Pyrthian, but by the Cauldron, you were going to hold onto them so tight and never let them go.

[xo-cod]

asking 141+könig to come with me to my doctor's appointment🥺 i get SO FUCKIN NERVOUS i need my emotional support bbgirls♥😢

sorry i got to this late babe :( hope you enjoy, rushed/ooc <33

price: he's the dads of dad, babe. you're nervous? he's already handing you something to calm your nerves, gently holding you under his arm so he can comfort you. he'll definitely be the one to help speak if you're too anxious for it, speaking to the doctor in a low voice to not overwhelm you. keeps an eye on you throughout, very attentive during the appointment and takes you out for ice cream after because you were so good 😙

ghost: he's the one that's holding all your documents if you need them, carrying your medications. if any nurse/doctors wants to try him not only does he have the proof to back up his words but also the attitude to go with it. ain't no one about to try you on his watch, if anyone wants to get testy they answer to him. but you'll find that most people will stay out of your way, beefing a 6'4 behemoth of a man doesn't really look like it'd fall in their favour anyway <3

gaz: the one handing you small snacks to get you through the apointment, whispering gentle sweet words to you to help ease your nerves. he's definitely focused on you, just wanting your appointment to go well and for uou to be healthy so he'll do everything he can in order to achieve it. the type to ensure your appointment runs smoothly and with as little stress possible. takes you to journey favourite food place after for fun because he knows your nerves are still high and he spends the day making you all happy again

soap: laughter is best medication with him, he's the one cracking funny jokes to ease your nerves. trying to get you in a happy mood during the wait so you're not so tense. but if jokes aren't your thing, he's definitely the one to cuddle you if you need it. he hates seeing you so worried so he's whatever you need him to be babe. if you need his cuddles and kisses, you'll get exactly that. he's so protective over you, will rush to your defence if anyone wants to try anything with you.

könig: he's your strength in times of stress, always. his hand enclosed around yours, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand to calm your anxiety while he whispers gentle sayings in german because he knows his voice calms you down. the type to be standing right behind you eyeing up the doctors as they speak, making sure to absorb every single piece of information for his own sanity to help him know that you're okay. gives you a big hug and a sweet kiss at the end because you deserve it and more

[katerinaaqu]

The Humanity of Odysseus: Fear, Pity and Honor (an analysis based on Sophocles's "Ajax")

This analysis has been suggested/requested by my amazing friend @artsofmetamoor with whom we are dealing with various of projects, mainly W.I.T.C.H high fantasy related material! Please visit her profile and check her amazing art!

So as you see from various accounts and much more my recent analysis in regards to whether Odysseus is someone without actual essence of right or wrong, we have one of the few cases in which we have a more complicated Odysseus rather than the usual anti-hero figure we have in post-homeric tradition. Sophocles in his tragedy "Ajax" tells the story of Telamonian Aias, how he lost his sanity when he became furious that the armor of Achilles was not given to him. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Odysseus opens and closes the tragedy by being in both the first and the last scene. In the first scene we have one of the most hilarious (and daresay extremely modern even for today's standards) dialog between Athena and himself. Athena has just explained to Odysseus what happened to Aias and then proceeds to call him, earning this HILARIOUS reaction by Odysseus!

Odysseus: What are you doing, Athena?! Don't call him to come out! Athena: Easy there! (Lit: Hold up, or Keep your posture), are you taken over by cowardice? Odysseus: Don't, by gods! If you please, let him stay inside! Athena: What's the matter? Isn't he the same man he was? Odysseus: A man who was an enemy, especially now

(Translation by me)

Okay, other than the fact we have the absolutely HILARIOUS moment of Athena going in a "What are you? Chicken?" mode with Odysseus (which has me laughing to this day!) we also have an increasingly panicking Odysseus! From the moment he hears Athena go "Hey, Ajax!" from outside you can almost see him jumping out of his skin! We even have him go increasingly more panicked when he says "By gods, don't!" like the last thing he wants is to come face to face with a 2m tall behemoth of a man who not only has a personal grudge against him but also now he is mad and murderous. And his anxiety is also shown by some low-key homor he does even when Athena talks again:

Athena: Certainly isn't it the sweetest taunt, the taunt of one's enemy? Odysseus: For me is enough that he stays inside his chambers! Athena: Are you afraid to see the madman? Odysseus: I wouldn't be so terrfied of him if he were sane (Lit: If he were in fact, sane, I would lift my fear) Athena: But now he won't see you being present near Odysseus: How? If he sees with his own eyes?

(Translation by me)

Okay we have once more Athena being cheeky (like a very interesting trope) basically sayng "why? don't you want to laugh at your enemy?" and Odysseus answering with equal humor in a "thanks but no thanks!" manner! Like "nah I'll pass!" but I find it also interesting how honestly Odysseus speaks with Athena. If other people call him coward he retaliates and in fact most of the time he is prudent but now he is truly terrified and he is not afraid to admit that to Athena who, let's face it, knows his soul. He is so afraid to the point of forgetting that gods can do stuff humans find impossible and he even asks her how she would achieve that Aias won't see him. He doesn't ask if she will protect him. He asks HOW she'll do it! XD

Athena: I will darken his eyes so he won't see clearly Odysseus: Indeed, everything is possible when the gods are acting Athena: Then, be silent now and stay where you are! Odysseus: I'll stay: even if I'd rather be anywhere but here!

(Translation by me)

Honestly...I love this to no ends! Odysseus finding some composture in a "Oh! Right!" mode as he remembers it's Athena we are talking about, Athena basically be like "Shut up and stay still!" mode as if she talks to a dog and Odysseus whom I can so imagine mumbling that last part to himself is just an amazingly human roller coaster for Odysseus who even if he has the wits that all people would wish to have, he still is blocked by fear like everyone else. And then we have another amazing detail and scene here;

Aias comes out in all his mad glory, covered in blood of the sheep he killed and holding a bloody whip. Athena asks him questions and Aias answers how he ellegedly killed the greeks and how he captured Odysseus in his tent! He then proceeds speaking on the gruesome death he has in store for his rival, that he wil whip him to death (And again cheeky Athena inserting some dark humor like "Don't hit the poor man too hard!") She then turns to Odysseus as if expecting praise! She basically asks him "Well? What do you think of the power of the gods?"

And how does Odysseus respond?

Odysseus: Well, I don't know of anyone: however I pity him, the poor man, even if he is an enemy, for he is taken over by this devastating delusion. Neither do I think myself better than this purpose; I can see that we who live are nothing more than deaf shadows.

(Translation by me)

Not only does he recover from the shock and fear even after he heard all the horrendous things mad Aias wants to do to him but he now pities Aias; He knows he used to be a powerful dignified king who is now reduced to a shadow of himself in madness and he pities his condition but he also PUTS HIMSELF IN HIS SHOES! He sees that he as well can easily become him! He admits that he doesn't feel any better than him, that he is also weak before the gods and he even speaks on how humans basically are pointless, temporary existences on earth compared to the immortals.

Athena even closes the scenes with a threat. She threats Odysseus never to be blasphemous to the gods because the gods can do this and much more to a man. In a way we also have a foreshadowing or an "easter egg" of the Odyssey here. In a way that threat or warning coming out of Athena coming in place.

However his humanity for his elleged enemy doesn't stop there for later he is the only one of the offended party of greeks to actually insist upon allowing Aias to be buried with honor. I will not speak on the moments where he says some of the most iconic things like "I hated him when it was honorable to hate him" which was done by another tumblr creator @ilions-end here

The clip that this analysis talks about is not his unparalleled diplomatic nature but rather the humaity that we analize here. And some of the phrases he uses to put himself in Aias's shoes as well as the people who love him and want to see him get honors after death. One of the phrases he uses, which seems to reflect to the words he gives to his wetnurse Euryclea (you can see in my other analysis) in which basically he advises her not to take pleasure upon the face of death. Sophocles seems to place a similar word to his mouth here with:

Odysseus: Do not rejoice, Son of Atreus, to take benefit from something not good

(Translation by me)

Basically Odysseus here shows once more the other side of his; the need to be just to others. He advises Agamemnon that he should never be happy by taking revenge with an unholy act such as leaving someone without a decent funeral. Despite the fact that in Iliad for example in the heat of battle he often threatened to leave someone without a funeral, in reality here in a calm environment he realzes that one must be just before the gods. Despite the fact that Aias threatened to do unspeacable things to him, he seems to recognize not only his pain and misery but also the nobility of his spirit to which he feels sorry to see derranged like that. Odysseus KNOWS it is not noble or right to leave someone yet alone such an honorable man without a funeral and he knows the consequences of that act would anger the gods and make them become something they ellegedly should be looking down upon.

Odysseus advises against feeling joy with such type of revenge.

Of course one can argue that it would be for his own personal benefit as well to do some last act of kindness to the man that felt wronged by the decision to hand the arms of Achilles to him (and depending on the source seems that the anger was quite righteous). However it seems to me that it is his genuine drive to do it right at least in the end, in a way showcasing one more time the complexity of character in Odysseus; a man who often makes severe mistakes or even brings controversy to the table but at the same time he has a large fose of humanity inside him and a strong will to make things right

Quite frankly Sophocles is ranking as one of my favorite post-homeric sources for Odysseus's persona and inspiration apart from my top favorite Homeric version exactly for this reason. Because we can experience the many different human emotions of this character called Odysseus of Ithaca! In this one play we see Odysseus freeze in fear even his mind having trouble to work for a second in his worry, then he experiences pity and compassion for the man that had murderous intentions towards him and finally the final tribute to that said man; having surpassed all the previous carousel of emotions he experienced and finally seeing clearly what is the right decision to make.

But what do you guys think? Let me know! ^_^

[call-of-ishmael]

The Last Ishmael OCD Post

One of my first times that i dabbled into character analysis was about Ishmael's OCD, people like that post but i really feel i could have done better

Canto V was my last major chapter i was willing to read. As i put more distance between me and the story, i want one final farewell in the form of finally fixing up my analysis

PART I: THE META-TEXTUAL

Before i delve into the writing itself, here is some pointers the story gives to her OCD in the form of flavor text and descriptions.

Firstly we have her Bio

This is easy to miss as its just a tiny blurb above her whole intro blurb.

Now, "obsessive compulsive neurosis" is a very weird way to phrase it, "obsessive compulsive" is clear enough but "neurosis" is odd, this is not TOO odd though, as "neurotic" used to be how OCD was classified as a disorder.

However if we look at her bio in Korean, the particulars do simply straight up say "OCD" very clearly, you'd need to MTL but this was also confirmed to me by a friend from SK

The sinner bios are biased though, and are written through a very corporate lens, so lets see if there's any other pointers elsewhere

Her base EGO, Snagharpoon, actually does just that

Her passives name is called "Compulsion" and in its gameplay design its a very interesting way to also point to it

Ishmael is a very all or nothing person, you do it well or you don't do it at all, and this is reflected on how this passive aids you to play

This passive is excellent for boosting the consistency of playing by only going for "Favored" or "Dominating" clashes, while punishing you for taking chances on clashes you MIGHT win

Base ID Ishmael is also a unit with all single coins, rolling tails puts her in a very unfavorable position so this also adds an extra safety net on top. Worth noting being all single coins is also a high risk high reward type of play style.

Finally we see two more pointers id like to note, both from Canto V

The Compulsive`s Knot, an ego gift themed after a naval rope, one of many in the dungeon all alluding to her struggles.

Most obviously though

Her exclusive status effect, Compulsion. This is in direct reference to her EGO passive, providing an attack boost at the same time it provides a drawback in the form of low SP.

We are gonna talk a bit more about this passive since it ties into another gameplay oriented way to point towards her OCD

During the story dungeon we have an event where a noise is heard, you are given two choices, check, gain SP, don't check, lose SP.

Compulsive checking is probably the most well known (to the conditions detriment we will talk about it later) hallmark of OCD

Notably, this doesn't aid Ishmael, while checking can avoid the combat encounter, not checking only has a chance of triggering it, and most interestingly, her SP will always start at -25 during combat encounters. Meaning the temporary boost in her sanity will just get reset next battle, should you decide to check. Checking wont satisfy her anxiety for more than a brief moment.

Lastly the most obvious ones are all the references to Obsession. These are so abundant i feel if you are familiar with the Canto its redundant to have them, i wanted to draw more attention to the allusions to compulsion, as they are less common.

PART II: BEFORE THE STORM

Even since before her own Canto, we can see Ishmael's ruminating and anxious tendencies pop up during previous chapters, which for OCD is important to explore as OCD is an anxious and ruminating disorder.

So lets talk a little bit about OCD! Its a disorder characterized by repetitive and constant intrusive urges to perform a task or a thought (lets keep this in mind for later)

These thoughts or actions are used to try to relieve stress from an anxiety inducing thought or situation. The most common example is OCD exacerbating germ phobia, and causing people who have it to wash their hands in excess.

While OCD is usually described as "irrational thoughts" i feel that's a pretty limited way to view it in my own experience with it. OCD compulsions and thoughts can be informed by very real worries, the worry of getting sick, of making the wrong moral choices, of hurting others. Being clean is a normal and a good practice to stave off getting sick, its the frequency and intensity that turns it maladaptive, OCD turns your own lived fears and traumas against you, and those might very well be real things to worry about, which makes dealing with it very hard.

Enough of that off to the writing!

Lets start with Canto II

This is the first example of her constant need for a lack of ambiguity, previous to this we see her complain about the treatment the sinners are receiving from Effie and Saude, skeptical of the whole deal.

Until shes shown the plans, they are so well crafted shes able to anchor to that and calm down.

This by itself is not really much other than being very detail oriented, lets look a bit further into the chapter

Here we see that aspect elaborated upon more, this moment is framed as a very important one between Dante and Ishmael in their dynamic later on, Ishmael is incredibly upset at the plan having fallen apart so quickly, while yes this is not unreasonable to be upset at, her anger is remarked on by Dante and Gregor as very intense and unusual. This in my opinion is a minor but clear indication her need for planning and considering every option is due to a deep anxiety, but don't take it from me, lets look at Canto III

Here we are told pretty explicitly, Ishmael moving quickly and asking lots of questions is something Dante has noted as an anxious habit.

And here we have more elaboration on what exactly that moment at the Casino meant for Ishmael, it was enough anger and disappointment she has stopped expecting Dante to perform well and instead taken it upon herself to see things go according to plan, this is VERY important to her.

And her worries, are repetitive enough to annoy others, and to be remarked upon by Dante.

This is perhaps the more notable chain of events to point out previous to her chapters aside from 4.5, as it helps contextualize all her usual ways of acting in a more complete light, showing a lot of this is driven by a deep anxiety

And this all makes S.E.A all the more interesting as it pays off on this.

Something i quite enjoy about Limbus is how it re-contextualizes things characters have previously done and said. And the events of S.E.A and Canto V bring a lot of interesting stuff to the table

Lets get cracking with this chapter

In general shes extremely confrontational, and tense, more than usual

But its her anxious outbursts i wanna focus on, what she puts

emphasis on.

This chapter is so crucial in this whole analysis. We see some behaviors way more clearly now, firstly we see her emphasize her need to be absolutely 100% prepared for this, no ambiguity no risks she wants certainty.

But we see something even more clearly and that's her ruminating behaviors, shes brought up things like this to a smaller extent before like commenting on a lot of aspects but here we see in full display her inner world become externalized, shes started voicing worries shes never voiced before can Dante turn them back always? What if Dante dies? What if the sinners get eaten can that be turned back?

And these don't all get brought up immediately, she mentions them in different conversations, pointing to the fact shes constantly going over the subject in her head with no pause, and she gets frustrated when she cannot work on these worries when she cant do anything to quell the anxiety.

And the last part, when Dante finds her so fixated in her planning its impossible to even talk to her. She has to perform some action do something to stave off the disaster she can see coming in her head

As someone with OCD inevitably i have to mention the personal component that drew me to analyze this was how real this feels to when you spiral

A lot of the times OCD is explained as the compulsions being something you do cause you feel its a sort of ritual to stave off disaster. Its in this way i see it reflected in this moment.

As we see with Heathcliff acting as her foil, he points out her worrying is really not doing much other than just her talking and talking, and by the state shes in when Dante checks in on her, aimless not even paying attention to anything else we see the main objective of the planning really isn't practical as much as a compulsive coping mechanism.

She has to do something

PART III: INTO THE DARK

Lots to cover and honestly i will make a companion post to this with all the examples, so for this section i wanna cover some highlights instead, as well as a general discussion of the tone.

The way this chapter is structured is very interesting, its really reflective of the mental state of Ishmael. The chapter feels really aimless, they wander around not really ever finding what they need, which drives Ishmael more and more tense and frustrate

Its a good continuation to how we see her by the end of S.E.A fixated on one goal one thing

As previously stated shes inflicted with a constant special and unique to her status effect called "Compulsion" as covered in Part I

Her behavior is also reflective of this

For a good part of the first third of the chapter shes in her room, the whole time whetting her harpoon, nonstop

However you might notice compulsion is not as present as obsession, and compulsion is also important to OCD its in the acronym! And i have seen others point to it too

However id like you to remember, in the post earlier i said thoughts can fit into OCD, compulsions can be mental and sometimes almost exclusively or mostly mental. Its even in the DSM noted that for diagnosis the compulsions to count you for a diagnosis can be mental in nature

Its in this aspect that i feel Ishmael shines a lot

In general OCD in media is lacking in representation and is often a trait given to assholes or villains

The normal conception of OCD in movies or TV is of neat freaks or control freaks, Compulsion is usually heavily emphasized when it isn't the whole picture

Often ignored though is the aspect of Obsession, some people can have Purely Obsessional OCD (Pure O), this isn't a formal diagnosis or term but its colloquially used by people who have it. Its a bit of a misnomer, as compulsions are present but internalized as mental rituals or rumination

Usually its harder to diagnose, its harder to treat as there's no apparent compulsions others can see, and the people having it seem pretty high functioning to the people around them.

This can be noticed though in people avoiding certain subjects, avoidant behaviors can be the clearest external behavior.

I personally read Ishmael as having more mental compulsions, the way she tends to be a more ruminating and anxious character than outwardly compulsive

During S.E.A and Canto V we see outward compulsions more but from the examples from previous Cantos we can see that's not her usual and she operates more on anxious overthinking most of the time.

However another aspect that ties into mental compulsions is in the previously mentioned avoidant behaviors, we see her isolate and try to stave of having to deal with her worries in both S.E.A and the beginning of Canto V when shes in her room, in both cases doing some excessive preparation in a compulsive way.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

As previously stated Canto V deserves its own companion post, and ill work on that later, i feel this encapsulates what i wanted to say well enough.

I wanted to discuss the previous signs of her behaviors that make me certain her OCD is an intended textual read, and in my opinion a well executed one

Canto V was hard to read as it felt very real and very familiar to the worst times i have had due to my OCD.

Shes a character that despite my distaste i have developed for the franchise, it will never stop meaning a lot to me same as her chapter will always be a piece of storytelling that affected me deeply in ways others haven't

To close i want to leave off what i feel encapsulates the feeling pretty well, in my favorite moment with the membrane consuming her as a metaphor for letting fear, anger, obsessions and compulsions cloud your mind until you forget why you were even there

To you, dear reader, Bon Voyage

[omegaremix]

Veterans’ Path, 2019.

This year’s one for stasis, an equilibrium that gave no leeway for possibility or moves. It’s not a good feeling when you’re dealing with depression after a major heartbreaker and you need some serious outs to move on. You leave it in someone’s hands to help make some of those changes. Instead, they fall short and constantly buy time, your time you’ll never have back. It doesn’t help any when doctor’s appointments, meetings with investors, pending vacation-weeks, the desire to escape to the city and see family are on the backburner for months instead of mere days, so things are never answered for. Everyday you deal with toxic, needy people who literally drain you of your resources for their own personal needs without any etiquette or consideration of your well-being or sanity. You bleed money for their failures and mistakes. You sit idle while you see your friends, allies, family, and everyday people make moves while your hands are tied tightly behind your back and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So what can you do when the high cost of auto repairs, late inspections, and the constant delivery of traffic violations and tickets keep you grounded? Nothing…except take a walk down to your local veteran’s path on your days off. It’s been the only form of escapism and a reprieve of leaving behind the disruptive anxiety-driving components back home. Walk out the front door, then along the service road and under the highway, down one clean residential street, turn a couple of corners, down another street where houses and open skies phase into heavily wooded areas, and finally you’re there.

Arrive at the veteran’s path where there’s always a pick-up game on the asphalt. Families of three, five, even seven �� some with their kids on tricycles or dogs – walk together through elevated wooden plankways that zig-zag though the trees. Smell the sharp scent of apples, shampoo, or shades of ocean mist just by walking past the young Spanish girls who kindly smile and say ‘hi’ to you as you walk past them. Trees of emerald leaves in the spring or red, orange, and yellow leaves in the Autumn stand above a newly-replenished pond creating a mesmerizing near-perfect reflection. Walk off the pathways for the many heavily-wooded dirt roads or walk past the pond to find a hidden treasure: the graffiti tunnel doubling as an underpass for the railroad tracks above. Leave the veteran’s path and wash your hands at the bathroom which reeks of a church cellar and its’ soap dispensers pour out liquid lavender that makes a subtle mark on your trek. Two hours is enough time to dismiss your troubles, sort out your next moves, and even make a phone call or two to your family; all before arrive home right before sundown to catch up on the rest of the day’s posting, graphics, editing, and auditioning. Another quiet, peaceful day written in the record books.

Of course, I wouldn’t have an afternoon walk without something to listen to. My iPhone SE (32GB) replaced my seven year-old iPod Classic (160GB). With limited space, I only take about three months of finds with me. Those two hours of walking means I have more time to audition music for upcoming Omega WUSB shows. What’s in it, then? In case you truly care, it’s mostly city: d.i.y, safe-space, post-punk, indie. You can thank some of my friends and allies at the station for the first four. You can also thank Post-Trash, Brooklyn Vegan, Gold Flake Paint, and Alt-Citizen; all whose featured shining stars post their new sounds on Bandcamp and Soundcloud.

Jazz / fusion has taken me to places that no longer exist; places I never been to that I could never visit in a physical realm ever again. It makes me feel things only a very few can now imagine or understand. If someone lived or experienced it vicariously through the passing images, typesets, colors, aesthetics, and sounds that I have, then you’d understand.

Post-punk, d.i.y., or city? Not so much. The time is now and is very much alive, thriving and changing by the year because it’s here. Aesthetics of Wharf Cat, Katorga Works, Public Practice’s Distance Is A Mirror, Future Punx’s This Is Post-Wave, Gong Gong Gong’s Phantom Rhythm, Current Affairs, Boulders, Merchandise…I assure you get it by now. They, too, made me feel things to my own liking while many others in the scene are simply living in it. My aforementioned friends at the station: Conor, Layne, Toasty, Alosha, Kiki of Horrorscope… they bring their d.y.i. / city mindset to the station and it’s why Omega WUSB is feeling very proud of itself. As all this cycles in my head, it feels like I’m living another life, a life I’ve been trying to achieve. Scenarios I envision can be entirely possible and are waiting for me. I truly feel like I’m somewhere else; a place that’s very real but still far away from me…for now. That’s how powerful the connection is.

It’s been a void year for me, and such an anti-climactic way to end the decade. Only fitting after having a very wild year of extreme euphoria and collapse. The several trips to-and-from Veteran’s Path was the only thing I had to myself this year aside from a rainy Spring day out at Central Park. As a creator, you do your best in making something out of what you have. All you need is a time, location, soundtrack, and motive, and you have the makings of a new experience; a new mechanism for surviving an empty era.

Duckis demo

Annabel Lee “Hi Hi Hi”

Ex Hex “Cosmic Cave”

Garcia Peoples “Feel So Great”

Rong “Cup”

Spirits Having Fun “Auto-Portrait”

Ripped Jeans “Afraid”

Public Practice “Foundation”

Dig Nitty “Angel Calling”

Current Affairs “Breeding Feeling”

Strobobean Winter

C.H.E.W. “Bread and Circus”

My Brightest Diamond “Quiet Loud”

Free Time “Esoteric Tizz”

Sneaks “Tough Luck”

Patio “Legacy Continued”

Big French “Alison”

Jeanines “Is It Real”

Diat Positive Energy

VV Torso “Blood”

Dry Cleaning Sweet Princess

Weeping Icon “Teeth (& A Handbag)”

N0V3L “To Whom I May Concern”

Model/Actriz “New Face”

Channels “To The New Mandarins”

Sub Dio s/t

Bangzz “Your Boyfriend Is Really Bringing Me Down”

Ing “Closet”

Palm “Heavy Lifting”

Nazca Plate “Blotter”

Necking ”Big Mouth”

Pllush “Soft In The Dark” (1st VER)

Being Dead “Apostles’ Prom”

Remote Viewing “Whitney Houston, We Have A Problem”

Taiwan Housing Project “Buy Buy Buy”

Lungbutter “Vile”

Knife Wife “Every Living Thing”

Preoccupations “Pontiac 87”

Gong Gong Gong “Siren”

Dumb “Club Nites”

Second Still “You Two So Alike”

Rapid Tan “Gravy Baby”

Dry Cleaning “Sweet Princess”

Palm “Forced Hand”

Lunch Lady “Sweet One”

Kitten Forever “Hell Hole”

Necking “Spare Me”

Thanks For Coming “We Can’t Both Be Crazy”

Mock Identity “Where You Live”

Doe “Team Spirit”

There’s so much more than all the post-punk and d.i.y. I found. It wouldn’t be fair to ignore our rule of “as it happens, when it happens, anything goes.” The jazz / fusion time-and-space travel is still very much in operation. Down further is our new-found interest in Oakland / Mexican death-rock. Omega WUSB didn’t have a Halloween special this year so it didn’t get its’ day in the darkness. (Were you expecting sunshine?). Finally, some random spins of the wheel in synthpop, synthwave, electronics, hip-hop, and hardcore.

Walt Barr “Free Spirit”

Edgar Vercy “La Mer”

Paul Williams “Wistful Dreams”

Pasteur Lappe “Na Real Sekele Fo Ya”

Phil Upchurch “Black Gold”

Teddy Lasry “Riverhead”

Walt Barr “Creepin’”

Ötzi

Kurräka

False Figure

Cruz de Navajas

Zotz

Adrenochrome

CRVEL

Mystique

Pawns

CHKBNS “Can You And Me Still Have Fun?”

Canal Street Electronics “Deep Red”

Glued “No Past”

Odwalla 88 “What The..”

Sleazy “Cauchemar Administratif”

Your Old Droog “Bubble Hill”

Cave In “Winter Window”

Kedr Livanskiy “Kiska”

Planit Hank f. Jeru The Damaja & Buckshot & AZ “Life In Crooklyn”

[angelicpersonals]

Keeping up with friends

I don't do Every day talking unless you are VERY specific friends I have known for literal years. And thats only because I know they will give me breathing room, respectful if I dont respond snappy and am slow, are interested in what im up to rather than being like "yo heres some memes" so we can talk about smth im currently into. I dont mind the random meme dumps dont get me wrong. By all means go ahead. I will do it or video dumps back to let you know im thinking of you. But dont get mad if I dont have much to say.

If you want to chat, come to me with a topic. Just like if I want to chat I come to you. Now I will be more likely to chat in a GROUP than one on one because I might want to talk about the same topic with multiple people. I dont DO individual DMs very often. even those I talk to every day are in mini group dms. Individual dms are for privacy in case of emergency or for those who despise groups.

It takes a LOT of spoons, a lot of energy to keep up multiple private chats and I need people to understand that.

I have so much going on in my life, so many people and situations to deal with, so many creative projects on my plate. That I only have maybe 3 - 5 days per month where im free to interact with friends. I have 52 friends at this point. Do you see the problem here? Individual DMs / chats are not feasible when I have this much to manage.

"But you're on xyz game" I multi task, if im on a game its literally to manage my sanity. I garuntee you that its mostly just sitting in the background looking pretty rather than being played unless im eating at the same time taking a food break.

"But you are posting screenshots of-" Yes, but that can be screenshots from those small peaceful moments of the day, previous days, or I've shut down and finally taken a break bc I got too stressed. "But if you can play games why not talk to me instead" Listen, I dont want to be a b*tch but let me be blunt an honest

Chatting stresses me out, people stress me out, it expends energy to chat. More so if I have other things on my plate at the time. Im not trying to be rude or ignore you. However I live with 3 people who watch everything I do constantly and are always trying to interact with me. I have 0 privacy, rarely have time to myself because when its not my family. its my friends because I have to micromanage so much in my life and have responsibilities piled on my shoulders a mile high.

"but you dont work / are disabled" I'm aware of that. However I have to help take care of my older siblings. I have to take care of my friends, I have to deal with every friend fight or emergency. All the while dealing with anxiety and depression of my own on a daily basis. Feeling lonely and isolated which im sorry simping over astarions a** with you does not fill that void. So before im asked no chatting online will not help with that when im surrounded by stress. responsibilities and a lack of affection IRL. I am literally an unpaid faux therapist and unpaid replacement mother for almost all my friends and for my own family. Yet im the youngest. and all of this is while I have to manage deal with and dodge around PTSD triggers and even epilepsy triggers every day and deal with chronic pains and illnesses. I'm not trying to be a b*tch but reality is. if you want an always there for fun times readily available friend.

Im not for you. I can't be, my circumstances and body literally will not allow me to be. I will be there for an emergency or issue in a heartbeat don't get me wrong. But I might only talk to most people once a month unless we're in group chats.

[howveryheather]

my year of detoxing

In a sea of social media posts where seemingly everyone I know is hitting nothing but picture perfect traditional milestones — engagements, marriages, babies, houses — there’s gotta be one person who will be honest enough to talk about some of the moments which never get photographed because they aren’t made for it. I’m doing this for everyone who is drying themselves out. Maybe someone reading is going through this right now. Maybe they will in 10 years time. Or maybe they never get to this place and keep a cocktail of pills flowing for the rest of their life. (I hope they don’t.) 

I worked hard this year to gradually wean myself off of my longest relationship to date: Xanax.

*

I’ve been taking Xanax since 2017, a few years after my first panic attack and a handful of medication starts and stops later. This was the one which clicked for me. The first time I took it I was on a plane. It lulled me into immediate sleep while everyone was still boarding. I woke up when we had been in the air for about an hour and ordered myself a sandwich and a drink. 

I felt incredible. Seriously, it was the best I’ve ever felt in my life. Everything was so serene. When you feel this good, you are willing to do whatever you need to so you can keep this feeling for as long as possible.

Flash forward to 2018 and 2019 when I was paying off my student loans and later 2020 in the pandemic, 2021, and 2022. In the final three years, I was cycling through the pills too frequently. Usually a lot more than 10 MGs a week. 

Xanax acted as a sleeping supplement more than anxiety aid. Almost everything happening in my life at the time was shaking hands with some other form of insanity. Every time I go back into my brain and remember this period of time, every time I attempt to write about it in a deeper way, there are so many moments where I wonder “Was it all so bad?” Yes it was, Heather’s brain. I had to build my own version of Rome in a few short years and there were all these shitty concessions I had to make to get there. Back then, I needed those pills to guarantee nine to 10 hours of sleep every night so I didn’t completely drop all the balls I was constantly juggling. My mood when I started to run out of my prescription was revealing of how close to the edge my overall sanity had become. The worst day for me was the two to three day period when the bottle was empty and I needed a refill. I despaired when I didn’t immediately receive one like clockwork, wailing hysterically on the inside. I rejoiced, buoyant with selfish happiness, only when I had a full vial.

With such emotional highs and lows, it shouldn’t come as much surprise I lashed out when my doctor suggested it was time to begin weaning me off in February 2023. Everything about this ask felt like a personal attack even if was meant to mitigate the issue of me taking way too many pills on a weekly basis. I did not like the implication I had a problem. I felt frightened at the prospect of losing the one thing in my life which could guarantee falling asleep in 10 minutes and not waking up once until the alarm went off. And I was filled with seething contempt thinking about the people I am loosely acquainted with that go on Instagram and post pictures in their Stories of themselves using the #zoloft hashtag with no added context. They kept their meds while mine were being taken away. 

Mostly though, I felt alone. There were not many people I could talk to about what was going on with me. What good would it do if I could? It wasn’t like someone else could wean me off for me. The sounding board was myself. 

Sometimes I need an initial outburst, a flood of feelings, a moment to react, before I can start to warm to suggestions and accept them. For as terrible as being off Xanax sounded, I wasn’t born on medication. I felt confident I could rise to the challenge and wean myself down to a smaller weekly dose. I believed, eventually, I could get off them completely though I had no real idea of when it would happen. Date TBD. My doctor had set a timeline for me to get down to half the dose by June. Over the months ahead, I started to wean myself down from 10 MG to 2 MG each week of benzos and then from 2 MGs to none each week.

The first month I committed to doing this was agonizing. I did it in gradual stages. First, I stopped taking medication on the weekends. Then, I started easing into going one day in the work week without it. None of it was enjoyable. I had to readjust my body to not receiving medication it had come to rely on for sleep at night. It was harder than ever to coax my mind and body to sleep during normal nighttime hours. I took afternoon naps or slept in the off hours whenever I felt tired. I could not get the 10 hours of sleep at night I was accustomed to anymore, so I figured I needed to meet exhaustion the moment I felt it.

I was tired when the sun rose. I was so tired. I drank coffee and dealt with it. I did feel victorious enough I had been able to get back three nights a week without taking anything. I decided to start going several weeknights in a row without Xanax.

This is when it felt like every brain cell I had was waging a revolution against me. My brain kept me perpetually wide awake. I’d get in bed at 10 PM and lie there as my brain and body screamed “I don’t know how to shut down!!!!!” Hours had passed by the time I’d fall asleep. I’d close my eyes for what felt like 30 minutes and I would wake up exhausted. 

Everything felt too bright in the mornings. Sharp with a bizarre copper aftertaste. Too much sunlight. I needed sunglasses like I was hungover. There was a strange amount of irritation and aggression in the air. I silently despised my doctor calling this “my detox.” Though I did accept it. It happened. I was changing things.

The greatest worry I had about weaning off Xanax was my writing. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to write anymore or juggle my heavy workload off of medication. At first, I was noticeably slower. Once my body acclimated to being off benzos and staying off, I discovered it didn’t change how I wrote or the work I did or the passion I had for it. The heart of me was still alive and beating. If anything, my writing got much better.

Like all things which are unhealthy for you, I wanted Xanax more than anything in the world. My body ached for it. I missed the mornings after taking the pills the most. I used to feel like I waking up in a cloud. Hazy, pretty, pink days. Back when I would get refills, I had a “refill ritual.” I would go to Rite Aid and pick up my prescription. Then I would walk next door to Fresh Brothers. I would order a personal pizza and eat it after taking my dose. Benzos used to make me hungry.

My doctor and I talked about what I could take to relax myself during my weaning. It was suggested I try taking melatonin and valerian root. I started taking melatonin and it helped me sleep so much better at night. I take it every night now.

I was still weaning, even with melatonin. I had time to think during the traditional sleep hours. 

*

In the darkness, hours away from sleep, I’d lie in my bed and psychoanalyze my personal life.

I thought about how so few of the major friendships or relationships in my lifetime have been privy to all the “eras” of Heather. Only a small handful of people have seen me through most of the timelines of who I am. Sometimes this is a distressing thought. The idea that everyone is only ever meeting me and knowing me at the age I am now. The history of a relationship with me – as friends, as lovers, as acquaintances — is always going to be quite young moving forward and just as short as it was in the past. 

Often, I wonder what kind of space I occupy in someone’s life. 

What does any one person who considers me a friend really think of me? Is anyone having fun? Did we learn anything? 

This year, I asked myself big questions about people I had in my orbit or on the outskirts of it. These questions related to friends and lovers alike. Were we friends or did we work at the same company? Did I like this man I had been dating or was I trying to fit into some sort of impossible mold of a woman he wanted and would not budge on which I couldn’t be for him? What did I have to gain from these people? How did I become a better person because of them? How did they contribute to my growth, my happiness, my sense of self? 

Everything hit a head when I came to the most important reckoning of all. Did I want these people to be in my life or was I addicted to the serotonin rush of seeing their messages and believing these messages were a sign of being wanted and needed? 

*

I had not taken any Xanax for a month on August 9. I was less than a week of embarking into a massive project at work, something I had been working on since May.

Over the last few years, I have been lucky to make many inroads with my career. This last summer was the hardest I’ve ever worked in my entire life. It beat out the summer I spent working on the Icons Gala event by a mile. I spent three months deeply immersed in a sponsored series I was leading while still working on the other dozen daily items I was responsible for and doing all of my freelance on the side. In August, most of my days started at 6:30 AM and ended after 4 PM. I ate, slept, breathed my job. You’d think this would be something unpleasant, that I grew to hate it or I felt stressed out or there was some part of me that struggled somewhere but none of this is true. I was incredibly busy, but it felt good. I had a pep in my step, a balance to what a normal person would think was way too heavy of a workload for one person. Truth is, it has been like this since I started this job. I never worry or feel pressured because I like what I do. I really like it! (For whatever reason if I did feel pressured, I like knowing how I could always tell my managers and they’d help me dial it down.)

It was a successful sponsorship and we hit nearly all of our impression goals. The sponsorship lasted two months. 61 days. Not a day passed where I did not give it my full attention. When site traffic was so-so — not super high and not super low, in a strange floating middle ground I didn’t really like — I went back to the blueprint. I came up with more ideas and wrote that content up for a boost. Every little bit counts.

I felt like crying when I heard how pleased the sponsor was with the results because it was the first sponsorship I led on my own. I had worked so hard on it. My manager went on maternity leave while there was still another month left and then it really was me taking the lead. 

I am at a place where I am pleased with my writing. It feels and reads stronger than ever. I’ve even gotten into the habit of teaching myself as I go along. This year, I took over more writing responsibilities in the shopping and saving money vertical. I’ve been reading up on what months you should buy everything and why and studying the savings catalogs from warehouse clubs to pitch and write content. I even apply this level of research to writing about cars as a person who doesn’t drive. Since I don’t shop very much, I like the humor found in a non-shopper dishing up recommendations each month on the best clothes, appliances, and bulk food to buy.

I feel challenged by what I write about, fulfilled by the end product, empowered to make decisions I think will take the content into the best direction, and humbled by how many people tell me they love and follow my writing. 

My work has given me the confidence to live the life of my dreams and not consider the bottom falling out. There is no more bottom at this stage. I’m running up against 10,000+ hours of my craft in action. I believe everything will work because I see it work every single day. 

*

When I’m off Xanax, I feel different now than I used to on the nights I would take the pills. My days don’t feel like the words I used to mention them anymore. The light isn’t sharp. It’s soft. Blue creeps into the sky each morning. I keep my window blinds open at night so the morning sunlight can wake me up every day. There’s not really aggression in the air like there is people trying to stir themselves awake however they can. The days feel like my to-do list of work items. A reminder of life and seasons all around me. Every day feels less like some kind of muted hangover and more like a quiet celebration. I lost the pretty pink haze. I gained dusty blue hues.

My watershed moment happened July 9. That was a Sunday, the one night of the week dedicated to taking my pills. I chose not to do it. 

I had more than enough reasons why I could have done it ahead of the next day. I had three articles due, a meeting to attend, an inbox to tackle, and projects and assignments to address for the sponsorship.

All of this happens, quite literally, every single day at my job. I thought about the worst that could happen. The worst thing would be my absence. If I didn’t show up. If I didn’t do my part. There was no other worst thing to anticipate. When I thought of it like this, I realized I would be fine. I took the melatonin instead. 

The next week I referred to the melatonin again. Then it became two weeks, three weeks, and a month. Then two months, three months, and even more months since I took any benzos. Your great big achievements often happen when you’re not looking directly at them.

I’d end that sentence with an exclamation mark except I can’t yet. There’s a “still” component in this work. The weaning is still ongoing. 

The side effects are still around. I still have nights where I can’t sleep well. I don’t think this approach to weaning means I’ll have it all figured out by the end of this year. It will take some more time yet to get me back to where I think I once was. 

I feel like I’ve beaten past the worst of it. I don’t ache for Xanax anymore. I don’t think about it. I don’t miss it. 

I do acknowledge it. I took those pills for a long time so it would be strange to act like it never happened especially since there was a time when they really did help me deal with a lot of stressors. I taught myself how to let the behavior go. Letting go felt impossible in February. It felt scary (what do I do without it?) and humiliating (how did I allow myself to develop this kind of dependency?) and hard (another Rome to build). It’s amazing how possible a good habit can become with the passing of time and commitment. 

*

I think about the silence of this summer and the quiet of this year. Outside of this blog post, and I was reluctant to write it, there is almost no one to tell or share progress. It’s not the thing you show and tell. I am my own accountability partner. I like to think I have been doing a good job, even though getting hype about not taking prescription meds anymore is not the thing you think you’re going to be doing at this age, at this juncture of life. 

Then again, what am I supposed to be doing right now?

On the surface, I do know what I should be doing now. My writing talks about it every day. I should be swiftly approaching various milestones like finding my soulmate and getting married, having a child, buying a car (and uh, getting a license!), and buying a home. 

The lack of traditional milestones I have under my belt used to distress me. These days though, I am not particularly afraid or worried about whether I’ll ever reach these milestones. I have other priorities. 

*

This month, I have gotten back to one of my oldest loves again. Reading books.

It’s embarrassing for me to admit how much I read now is so... little. It’s a miracle if I read an entire book in a year. I had a laundry list of excuses for why I don’t read. The list starts with the expired library card belonging to a library in a city I no longer live in. It ends with my proclivity to clean in my spare time or bed rot after writing all week to recharge the creative batteries.

I keep reflecting on how adulthood is the place where you resurrect your love for everything you liked as a kid and it meets you tenfold. I loved books when I was younger. Loved to read and had a great time doing it.

My previous library card expired during the pandemic. A few weeks ago, I went to the Sherman Oaks Library and got a library card there. This was something I had been putting off since moving to the area. I still sometimes buy books, though many books I wind up buying often turn out not to be particularly good. Trendy and not worth a second read. 

For all the time I had been out of the reading game, I kept a running list of books I wanted to read. I put them into the notes app on my phone and I saved a list in the Barnes and Noble wishlist. I decided to check out two books at a time from this list. Two is manageable. Two is a reasonable amount to read with as many hours I work a week. In a previous life, I would leave the library with a stack of books rivaling my height. 

Advertising Week, my long-time freelance gig, is moving its site properties to the company which owns it. This kind of in-flux movement never happens. I’ll get to write again in January 2024. For the first time in seven years, I am not freelancing in the final weeks of the year. As much as I enjoy AW, it feels freeing to not be spending every waking hour attached to the keyboard.

My spare time has been spent back in the company of books. Reading again makes me feel like I never took such a long pause. 

When I read fiction, I feel like I’m on the run. I’m galloping through the pages, engrossed in the lives of all these people who will never exist (can never exist) and getting invested in their full pockets of the world and the dramas of their lives. I want to shake some of the characters for making stupid decisions, I tear up when they grieve for losses, and I roll my eyes at some of the verbs writers overuse. (Everyone is always taking “swigs” of drinks. Swigs of water, swigs of wine, swiggy swig swigs. It’s obnoxious and amusing at once. Bring back the gulp!) I’ve always considered books to be the last frontier of non-algorithm restricted content. It’s heartening to see nothing has changed. 

On that note, my mind has been more lively than ever these days thinking up little story ideas and tucking them away. Short stories, fiction, SNL sketches, etc. 

My internal story machine is letting its wacky flag fly. I like to write down the weird ideas that make me smile or laugh a little. Last weekend, I had an idea for a short story about a grown woman who is trying to shed her embarrassing youthful image of winning the Guinness World Record for the longest amount of time spent throwing up on an airplane. I called it “Barf Face.” 

The weird stuff is what I think people remember about me. I took a screenwriting class in college. In one of my scripts, a character ends up in a back brace after falling out of a hayride. In high school, I wrote a short story about a woman getting knocked out by a falling shelf of frozen pizzas and dying in the freezer aisle of the grocery store. 

I do like to find the humor in the absurdity of life. Often, and especially now more than ever, there is a great need to present oneself as aesthetically pleasing and universally enjoyable to everyone. I think of it as making yourself into McDonald’s. It’s all carefully executed and distressingly, demands some conformity to what the majority likes so many people will blindly like your content. Humans are not supposed to be Big Macs.

Real life reminds me of that one time from when I was little. I had a brand new sparkling pink coat. I wore it out on a winter day in late February when the snow was melting and beamed with pride as I waited for the light to change at the crosswalk. Then a bus drove past me and covered the coat in brown sludge. I was horrified. It was real. It was life!

That’s not to say I’m always thinking about weird shit upstairs. I’ve got stories with a lot of heart and soul. Most are on the topic of friendship which I feel never gets discussed on the same level as romantic love. I keep those ideas a little closer to me. I am less likely to talk about them out loud because I care about them. They do exist though and they flutter around and around.

*

At the tail end of this year, I was writing a few pieces about money-themed New Year’s resolutions. All the ones that don’t work tend to have a few things in common. They’re often pretty vague, resolutions like saving more money or eating out less. 

What works is a resolution where you go in with a plan and have set steps you’re willing to follow to reach said resolution. 

I thought about this in the context of some of my former New Year’s resolutions. These were all pretty half-baked endeavors: resolutions made the same way I made a birthday wish. Wishes and resolutions for incredibly vague, general wants and desires. To get straight As, to fall in love, to meet the perfect guy, etc. 

In a book I’m currently reading, one of the characters talks about how she imagined wanting someone else’s life instead of doing the work of imagining her own life. When I read that sentence, I felt my brain buzz, my heart quicken its beating, and my gut resolutely look over, raise its proverbial sunglasses, and nod once. Yep. This was a quote I needed to write down everywhere there is a surface in my apartment. 

What made my plan to wean myself off Xanax successful was the timeline my doctor set to reduce the dosage and my own determination to beat the odds and reduce it even further. I had not known it was a thing I’d be doing at this age because if I looked at the lives of the people I envy (and there are many) it does not exist there (probably not!). But it did exist in my own life and because it did, I needed to make the changes accordingly.

As we head into 2024, I do have a resolution for the coming year. It is something I started the day after Christmas this year — and hopefully, I get the chance to proudly talk about it by the end of next year. Everything is laid out in a series of steps so I feel confident it’s a goal I can reach. That makes me excited!

I have a lot of gratitude for this year. I experienced massive professional and personal growth, ended a habit which was difficult to let go of, and feel like, as always, the best is still yet to come.

[redflagbreakfast]

Journal Entry 5: Adios Mexico

As quickly as I arrived in Mexico, it was time to say adios, no rekindling things with Phil, and despite Melania’s best efforts and ferocious swiping, no new flame for either of us to keep us warm in the arctic tundra of Fargo.

Life had been a series of ups and downs. However, I finally upgraded my status and obtained my own airport lounge pass, with the best travel credit card on the planet… the venture x. The $400 fee was offset by $750 in free travel... the benefits don’t mean much when you can’t manage your money and end up with sky high interest and maxed out cards… Nevertheless, although I still occasionally traveled by chicken bus and stayed in hostels, I felt like a boss when I used my pass to enter the lounge without Phil’s platinum Amex.

As I sat at the high bartop stool, I ordered a free frosty mango cocktail and quesadilla. I enjoyed the feeling of being a “baller on a budget” and receiving my free order worth about $24.22. Small victories like this kept me motivated. As I sip on my final Mexican airport cocktail, my mind begins to wander and think of all the stress I had piled on my plate the moment I arrive back home.

I check shopify: 67 orders to fill. Damn..that feels great…but also gets my head spinning..

Most entrepreneurs move from one venture to another, but oh, not me, the multi-tasking maniac. I just keep adding. Four companies now. It’s like an addiction. My plate is full and something has to give. First, I gave up dating and sex, lately, it’s been sleep, next it will be the remaining amount of my sanity. I need some serious help.

Despite working tirelessly and reinvesting every dollar I made, I always felt like it was never enough, but I just received a heartwarming message from my marketing director. She expressed how grateful she was for her job and how it had helped her attend her dream college and graduate debt-free, all while supporting herself and her family.. Although I felt a twinge of jealousy, her message reminded me that the work I am doing is making a big difference in life. I can’t give up, not yet…

Multi-tasking is not something to be proud of. I need to focus on one and let the others go, but I can’t decide the direction. My biggest passion project has been my sexual health and wellness company. My products help women that suffer from pain during sex, and also help increase pleasure. How could I possibly give that up? My design and photography help pay my bills, but my mushroom company is exploding.

My child demands my attention 80% of the time and my mind desperately needs its daily fitness routine. Then there’s skincare, housework, laundry. My friendships and family relationships are also a priority, so what needs to give? I swear. I cannot take add another thing! Buzz…Buzzz. Just as I feel my heart racing and anxiety building. I see a notification from Dr. Sal. My heart jumps a little. The mysterious stalker from Playa.

Buzz…Buzz…another notification….than another…than another. Geez what the hell is this guys problem? I ask myself as I unlock my screen to see what all the fuss is about.

“Hello Pretty lady!”

“This is Sal”

“We met at Illios.”

“Did you put something in my drink, because I suddenly feel crazy”.

“About you…”

Yikes!!!! I think to myself this guy is next level stalker!

“I could be wrong” he continues to text “ but I felt like we both had a certain level of interest in each other. I would love to connect with you. If you are interested let me know, otherwise, I can wish you the best and I will try to get those sexy eyes of yours out of my mind.”

“I hope this is not too direct.”

I promptly respond, “Hey, I think you’re wrong on this one. You were there with a girlfriend, so I wasn’t looking.”

“Hahaha” he quickly texts back.

“Not a girlfriend”

“Just a date for the night.”

“But I have been wrong before.”

What a freaking Liar! I think to myself, as I clearly remembered what she had said, SINCE JANUARY. I decide to call him out.

“My understanding was that you had been traveling together since January.”

“NOOOOOO!!!” he insists “Your intel is not correct…but it doesn’t change the fact that you looked sexy as hell!” His statement makes me audibly chuckle. “Haha! I found it amusing that you asked me if I was “single” single, yes YOU were the one on a date.”

“Well, I AM single and a single date doesn’t change that!” He says. “Want to see where I am now?” he asks, as I roll my eyes. At least this is entertaining. “Sure”, I respond. He sends a photo of an incredible mountain range, with towering peaks stretching up towards the heavens and fluffy white clouds swirling above. It’s like something out of a postcard, or maybe even a dream. I can’t help but feel awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. It’s not just beautiful, it’s breathtaking. The only mountain I’ve seen lately is my mountain of laundry.

“Fernie, British Columbia, beautiful right?”

“Gorgeous!” I reply.

“Your sexy eyes, and this view, then it would be ideal! I want to take you here on a ski trip, or we can go to Switzerland and ski the alps.” he says.”

“I am an immigrant who is Canadian now, been here since 2007; My heritage is middle eastern, Dubai to be specific. I moved out here for medical school.”

“Gotcha, that’s cool” I reply shortly “So you’re like a retired dentist or something?”

“Haha, if you would have just connected with me on Linkedin.” he responds.

“I don’t feel like you took me seriously at all!”

“I did not.” I say.

“I can tell you don’t take me serious. I am putting effort in here!”

“You have something in you that deeply intrigued me, I am trying to figure that out.” He writes

I reply genuinely, “I will be honest, it takes a lot to grab my attention. I haven’t even been on a date in over seven months.”

“That must be a super hard 7 months, WOW!” he replies.

“Nope!” I say, “I have been too focused on my businesses to even care!”

“That is amazing!”he says. “So the real story is, I saw you the night before on the roof top.

I literally could not take my eyes off you…

Even the girl that was with me was upset with me.

But there was something about your outfit, your energy, it is very sexy.

Now listen, I am a busy guy with work. I find many girls I date don’t get my work demands

They have too much free time on their hands.

I LOVE hustlers. I got to North America in 2002 with a one way ticket and $200 in my pocket. And now I have built up an empire. I have 30 private ER’s, I provide work for over 400 people. I see what I want and go after it. And now, I want you, Kate.”

I feel a flush to my cheeks and quickly try to downplay his words. “Oh really, well me and my friends thought you and your girlfriend wanted a threesome!”

“Hilarious!” he replies “I don’t think that crossed her mind, and I am not into that. I find it amusing that this was the only thought that came to your mind when looking at me.”

“Hey!” I interject, “I wasn’t even looking at you, my friend Melania pointed it out!”

“Wow!” he replies “and I just wanted you..and that is before I knew how smart and driven you are, I just thought you were hot, and I couldn’t hide my attraction from my date. I was in trouble both nights.”

“Ok, I gotta go board my flight Dr. Sal…see I checked your Linkedin” I playfully ignored the entirety of his text.

Wow, this guy is seriously over the top! I mean, come on, it’s obvious he’s a total narcissist, I decided right then and there. (I mean, seriously, did he think his borderline stalking, constant staring, and getting my contact info in front of his date were subtle?) And now, he’s trying to use a little trick called “future painting” to get inside my head and make me think we have some amazing future together. This is like a whole new level of crazy!

So what exactly is “future painting,” you ask? Well, it’s basically when a narcissist plants all sorts of promises and ideas in your head about how wonderful your life will be together. They’ll tell you anything you want to hear – trips, marriage, kids, you name it. And in the beginning, they’re all ears, listening intently to every word you say so they can add it to their “narcissist playbook” for later use. Yep, they’ll use your hopes, dreams, and past traumas to manipulate you down the line.

And don’t be fooled – these guys are masters of pretending to be just like you. “Oh my gosh, purple is your favorite color too? What a coincidence!” Yeah, right. It’s all part of their game to get you hooked on their grand vision for your future together.

🚩details:

[nympio]

in the face of it all

perhaps there is change in my well-being. after speaking with a dear friend that had moved away and along in their life, it used to fill me with a horrific anxiety and a nauseating dread. although, this time i just felt sad. corrupted as my life has always been, this time i did not bother trying to compete to trying to make sense of my life. it was simply a sad sigh, some narrowed eyebrows and a long, long stare into my own eyes as they spoke to me. it is almost reminiscent of getting your head held underwater, or when death finally releases its grip around your throat. you feel nothing, see nothing, speak nothing, and hear nothing. it’s almost poetic how soothing it can be to feel like a drowned, puffy person. 

emotionally constipated would be a pretty standalone term to describe my current facade of reality. death, life, the concepts between the two, and the image of myself has been pounding though my everyday life. it has left me so incredibly self absorbed, although that might not be a bad thing. all i seem to think about is myself, my transgressions, my stress, my past, therapy, and everything about my psyche. it leaves little space for anything or anyone else, but i quite like it that way, even if it may be wrong to say. with my broken heart, things are starting to make more sense, and not just objects of permanency but aspects of life and reality. i can almost agree with the poets and philosophers telling people how it all goes out. everyday i question my sanity, but everyday i am brought with the terrifying realization that i am completely sane, and utterly alone with it all. 

i find irony utterly amusing despite the fact that is causes me the most pain in my life. the absolute joke of it all seems to be in the act of life itself, the best thing to do is allow it follow you without making a sound, and eventually you’ll forget it’s even there. 

there are small little moments when i feel it, when i can see it in myself. when the light bouncing from side to side during my EMDR sessions takes me back to a former self in a former body. when a car swerves too close to me on the high way. when life decides to not leave my eyes but allows me to see just how close it was to doing so. when my voice becomes devoid of emotion as i detail events that are so uncharacteristically inhuman. when my eyes can’t shake their heaviness of solitude and i can no longer keep the strength to hold a crooked smile. when behind my eyes grow tired and so does my soul. it all culminates into this small grotesque conjunction of guts and feelings in my chest, ready to explode at any minute. its poison is lethal but slow, agonizing in its way of understanding. and the irony of it all, is that the poison is the thing that keeps me alive, even as it continues to burn every facet of my being. 

~fine monday november 21st, 2022 11:35 pm

[gildagracedent]

OK,so this is super long so it can be used as a reference to what Gilda has been up to. I won't write super super long posts like this again. It would be a chore for you! @twcfaces

Gilda took a deep breath as she started her car’s engine, adjusting her mirrors. She couldn’t believe she was doing this all over again. Actually, she could, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

Gilda took another deep breath as the asylum loomed before her. What a hellish place - and her husband was receiving “treatment” there, but was he? From what she saw in the newspapers, it was more of a containment cell wrought with abuse rather than a legitimate mental health institution. Gilda repressed a shiver. Visiting Harvey was risky for numerous reasons. For one, the more she showed her face around the Arkham inmates, the more potential she had to become a potential target for kidnapping or worse.

She figured that was one of the reasons why Harvey --and Two Face now, avoided her -- to protect her. Two Face. She best become used to the name, the identity. How much of this identity was in her husband? When did he come out? Was he his own person within Harvey? She didn’t know and they never spoke of it.  But someone was there. She knew it. Because They saved her during the Long Halloween Debacle. Twice.

She pulled up to Arkham’s gates handing the guards her ID, staring ahead to avoid the judgment from the guard's eyes before being waved through. Ever since Harvey’s nightmare in the courtroom, people had been giving her pitying or even angered glances. Gilda may have been gone a few years, but it was as though she never left. It was as  though people blamed her for Harvey and Two Face’s actions. Now that she seeked to reconnect with Harvey, those glances were sure to become worse. She parked her car, shutting the door quietly, as though all the asylum could hear. She could have sworn the building and grounds have become more decrepit since she was last here. Gilda opened the door, reaching the receptionist. “Hello, I’m here to see Harvey Dent.” She said, attempting to hide her anxiety. The receptionist peered over her glasses at her. “You’re not on the list.” “I bet you, I am as Mrs. Dent”. She enunciated. The receptionist rolled her eyes before checking. In actuality, she didn’t know if she was one the list still, but it was worth a shot.

“Fine. Give them ten minutes to bring him down. Go wait in the visitor’s room, Mrs. Dent.” She said with a hint of nastiness.

Gilda glared before holding her head up high, entering the visitor’s center. It was sparse with only chairs and a window with a small speaker and a small slot - just like she remembered. She took a seat where directed, trying to keep her knees from shaking. What if he wouldn’t see her? What if he was too far gone to remember her?A million questions poured into her head. She held her breath as she heard the door swing open.

And there he was - her Apollo. He had aged, his hair having specs of grey (handsome, really) , the dark circles under his eyes still present, if not more prominent. She tried not to gasp. It wasn’t his face that bothered her - no, she had gazed upon it numerous times when the injuries were far more raw. It was the surprise of him finally being there that led to her wanting to gasp.

She blinked away the tears. She wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and feel those strong arms wrap around her - nothing more than to break him out of there…no. This was wrong. She hadn’t even said hello yet. Harvey’s eyes widened in shock. She gave a shaky smile as he sat down.

“Hi” She breathed out.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” She again blinked away the tears. “Oh, God, Harvey, I’ve missed you. So much. You have no idea.” She nodded as she listened to Harvey.

“I had to leave Gotham for a while. I felt like I had no choice. I was losing myself, my identity, sense of self, my sanity. When you left, I felt as though I had no one but the Gordons, and I couldn’t burden them like that. I went to live with a friend upstate on her farm for a few years. I needed the peace and quiet. It was …a balm to me. I was able to focus on my art for a while. It’s all become more nature related. I felt immensely guilty leaving Gotham, leaving you. I regret leaving you, but what good would I be if I fell to pieces? I’m a stronger woman now. More than ever, and I’m never leaving you again.” she swore, as she took Harvey’s outstretch fingers in her deceptively delicate hands.

She smiled sadly.

“You have no idea how badly I wish you could hold me.” She wanted to tell him how much she hated this place for him, how she wanted to whisk him away to a farm up north where he could focus on healing, how maybe, they could start again without the pressures of Gotham. But she knew that none of those things would be possible. “I’m not leaving Gotham, not unless you come with me.” She said, peering into his eyes.

She hadn’t addressed Two Face yet.She still never figured out how. It seemed as though Harvey was here now, and she wasn’t going to waste that opportunity.

“Where do you want to go from here?” Gilda said, stroking what she could of Harvey’s hand.

@gildagracedent / starter!

Harvey didn't need to keep a schedule - it was kept for him, mostly by guards that shuffled him from place to place in Arkham Asylum, bound at the wrists and ankles, for the most part, so he didn't get any weird ideas about climbing out the second story window or into the laundry chute.

He was permitted a visitor twice a week, and while these visits were quite nice, and kept him from feeling too isolated, they were not something he controlled, either. They lasted fifteen minutes. He had to sit in a chair that was bolted to the floor behind nearly two inches of impact-proof glass. He had to be handcuffed. Whoever stopped by was generally regulated as well. Bruce Wayne came by on Tuesdays. The other visitation slot was a little less predictable.

Least predictable of all, was Gilda Dent.

The very moment he saw her, he felt his heart pounding in his ears. He felt he now understood what animals felt when they pawed and scraped relentlessly at their enclosures, a sudden loathing of the fact that he was not over there. He could not embrace her. He could not hold her, or kiss her, or feel her beside him, and it was going to drive him all the more insane. Suddenly, Arkham was unbearable. He wanted to dismantle it, all of it, if it meant he could hold her face in his hands and look into her eyes for a few simple seconds.

"Gilda!"

He didn't mean to startle the way he did, recoiling from the sincere heartache alone. Harvey was suddenly very aware of himself and his surroundings, like he was finally, finally awake for once.

It wasn't all good.

Forget that she shouldn't be here, forget that he thought she was gone, forget that he hadn't seen her in - was it years?

This was Arkham Asylum. She should not be here. She should not. It wasn't safe. It wasn't humane.

He felt disgusting and criminal behind that glass. She was seeing him like this. Strung out. Unkempt. Restrained. Ugly. A thing to be controlled, and drugged, and shoved along.

He stuck what he could of his good hand through the small slot in the glass through which papers were usually passed back and forth. Only a few fingers made it out, but that was all he needed. He could touch her again. Why would he ever deny that?

"Gilda, I - you shouldn't be here. I've wanted to see you every day, but - you can't be here. You shouldn't even be in Gotham - why are you here now?"

Was she sick? Was she telling him she'd finally moved on? He couldn't do anything. He could barely hold her hand.

"I can't believe it's you. I'm so sorry - I couldn't write, or call, or --- I don't know what to say. I don't know what to say..."

If she'd just touch his hand, he felt like he'd fall apart.

[starfoxrry]

.

[alltooreid]

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing. 

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None! 

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . .  Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”                    

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . .  Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup​ @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup​ @s1utformgg​ @averyhotchner​ @widow-cevans​ @rotinireid​

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :))

[koivoid]

DRDT Free Time Event spoilers

I just express my opinions on a few things and theorize a bit.

Note: I am not an expert on mental health, please correct me if I get something wrong!

FTE 1: Arei and J

I had a hunch that J was forced into being "girly" by her parents, it's interesting to see my theory confirmed. I feel bad for J though. This would explain why J hates "girly things" so much, she has a negative association with them.

I'm guessing Arei had issues with being backstabbed. Maybe that's why she always acts high and mighty, she has a "survival of the fittest" mindset. If she acts superior to others, then she herself won't get hurt. Arei doesn't care about others; she'd gladly throw them under the bus if it meant her own survival.

But trauma still doesn't justify her words or actions, and her way of thinking is still messed up :/

FTE 2: Nico and Rose

Canon confirmed cat name, nice

But also, why.

Nico nooo... this makes me wonder what type of things they experienced in the past to make them think this way. I think that they have abandonment issues and anxiety resulting from some sort of trauma from childhood, such as not having an emotionally available figure.

Unfortunately, I am not very experienced in this topic. If anyone has anything to add, please do!

Ok so. uh. I just realized this. If Rose sees something traumatizing, she won't be able to forget it because of her photographic memory.

I've seen this theme in another media I like. There was one quote from the other media which I thought was interesting:

"... My memory doesn't fade away like ordinary people, and I don't forget. Past memories keep stacking up in my mind... hard to say how they would influence or change me."

If Rose were to survive for a long time within the killing game, or even survive the entire killing game, the memories and trauma of all her classmates being killed would be stacked up inside her mind, becoming a burden to her; which might cause Rose to snap. I think that Rose snapping would be pretty interesting to see.

FTE 3: Whit and Charles

First of all, I'm not sure if I would trust Whit's cooking skills.

Second of all, "Ceci"???? That certainly is an interesting nickname lol

Also, Whit uses the nickname "Cha-ro-shi", which is very similar to "Charles" in Chinese (Chá ěr sī). I'm not sure if that was the intention, but it could be a nod to the fact that Whit is half Chinese.

Okay, I might be overthinking this because I've seen a character from a different media with a similar theme, but...

It could be possible that Whit went through/is still going through something really difficult. Trying to make everyone around you while neglecting your own feelings is a fairly common thing.

Again. I'm probably overthinking this, but this sentence could be literal or metaphorical. AND it kinda goes to further the above point. Whit's basically saying that negative feelings should just be thrown away, which ties into his personality of trying to make others feel better. And that's why he constantly makes jokes, so that he can lighten the mood, so others won't be sad.

Another thing Whit thinks is "Charles was right. I didn't understand him at all, and acted without thinking, like I always do." Whit wants others to feel understood, he wants to help others, which ties into the fact that he's a matchmaker, blah blah this is turning into a Whit analysis.

There's more I could say on this topic, but for my sanity's sake, I'm going to end it here for now.

Now onto Charles... here we go.

I thought this part was very interesting. Charles hates being mocked/looked down upon, yet he himself constantly insults everyone by calling them stupid. However, it's very likely that it's a very sensitive topic for him, or, he has low self-esteem and is trying to make himself seem like a stronger person than he actually is. The latter is more reasonable, as multiple times Charles' cool and unbothered facade is broken when he gets flustered. Basically, Charles is trying to act high and mighty to hide the fact that he's emotionally vulnerable.

It's also implied that Charles has experienced this type of thing before, which could explain why he distances himself from others; perhaps he was betrayed by someone close to him, or perhaps he was always excluded and felt as if he didn't fit in. It's also implied that Charles' parents didn't care for him emotionally (?) by the fact that his parents didn't teach him how to cook and that Charles spends most of his time with plants. Having no parental figures or friends to confide in, he distanced himself from others and became emotionally repressed, which includes pushing painful memories away; which ties into ANOTHER one of his character themes, which is memory. I'm not going to explain in this post, but if you watched DRDT, you should get a general idea of Charles' relation with repressed memories.

Also, I forgor to mention, Whit thinks this when Charles snapped: "He was genuinely angry, in a way that I didn't know he was capable of being." This could imply that Charles is suppressing his emotions as well, which adds to the fact that he's trying to seem calm and collected. The last example of this is his breakdown during Deadly Life; when he was finally confronted with all his suppressed emotions and memories, he completely broke down and was left emotionally fragile. (This makes me very very interested at what he's going to be like in Chapter 2.)

NOTE: I am writing Charles' analysis based on my own personal experiences. I am not in any way an expert, so I could very well be wrong.

I'm going to end this post here, because if I write any more I will go insane /j

Feel free to add your own thoughts and opinions, I would absolutely love to read other people's interpretations!!

And, on a lighter note:

They have matching downcast sprites /j

[starryeyedweeb]

Valentine’s Day with BNHA

A/N: I know it’s late for Valentine’s Day, but this is about the fifth time I’ve tried posting this because every other time it never got a single note even though all of my other stuff does pretty well??? So not to be that person, but if you see this I’m begging you to give it some love because it’s one of my favorites!

*DISCLAIMER*: As I’m over eighteen, I write all underaged characters aged up to be eighteen or older.

Contains: As always, sickly-sweet fluff; gender-neutral

Characters Included: Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, Yaoyorozu Momo, Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi/Todoroki Touya, Aizawa Shota

Valentine’s Day with...

Bakugou Katsuki

As expected, Bakugou thinks that Valentine’s Day is kind of ridiculous and isn’t too keen on celebrating

When his friends ask him what he’s planned for the holiday, it results in a bit of a rant

“Valentine’s is a shitty holiday for shitty partners to try and make up for being shitty. I take them on dates and spoil them all the time, so why should I make a big deal about a random day in February?”

But because he wasn’t a shitty partner, he knows he has to do something for you

“Oi, do you want to go hiking?” he asks shortly on Valentine’s morning, already dressed for the occasion. “We can go to that spot you’ve wanted see for a while.”

You agree- eagerly.

You honestly weren’t the biggest fan of hiking until you started dating Bakugou, who’s obsessed with it

It’s like meditation to him- one of the best ways for him to find a calm and clear mindset- and the two of you always have your best conversations when you’re out on a hike

Plus he looks amazing in his hiking clothes

The trail in question is further outside the city than most, and when you arrive, it’s pleasantly deserted

With backpacks swung over your shoulders, the two of you start down the rough path, which cuts through a thick forest

When you first started hiking, you could barely keep up with Bakugou, but you had gotten much better at it over time and are now able to comfortably keep pace with him, even holding his hand part of the time

The trail is mainly uphill, though, and periodically he will all but force a water bottle into your hands

“Get a drink. I don’t want you getting all dehydrated on me.”

When you reach the peak of the trail, which is a flat clearing overlooking the city below, Bakugou indicates for you to sit down and pulls out two bento boxes that he had packed prior to the event

Though there’s nothing heart-shaped nor unnaturally red or pink inside, the box is sweetly filled with all of your favorite bento foods

And of course, they all taste amazing

“Katsuki, this is so good!”

“I know.”

“Come on.” You playfully push his arm, feeling his muscles rippling beneath his jacket. “Seriously, though, thank you. Life has been so crazy lately, and this little break was perfect.”

“So you’re not upset we didn’t do anything more, I don’t know...” he trails off, furrowing his brow and running a hand through his hair, “...on theme?”

“Of course not. Stuff like that is for shitty partners who use a holiday as an excuse to make up for being shitty. They’ll go right back to their behavior the moment the day is over.” You interlace your fingers in his and hold his arm with your free hand. “This was perfect.”

Bakugou can’t resist a smirk and short chuckle at your sentiment, realizing exactly why he’s with you

“Hey, what’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Kiss.”

You reach up and press your lips to his, and his arms wrap around your body, holding you close

When you pull away, you cast a glance out at the tranquil cityscape below and reluctantly check the time.

“Do you think we should head back down?” you ask.

“No. I want to stay here a little while longer.”

Todoroki Shoto

As one of the top heroes, Todoroki Shoto is a hard man to get alone, but you have high hopes for Valentine’s Day.

On the morning of February 14, the two of you check into the luxury hotel he had booked for a romantic staycation, awaiting an entire day of activities planned around the resort: lunch and dinner reservations, a couple’s massage, seeing the hotel’s nightly show...

Only for it to all be completely foiled before it even starts when Shoto gets an urgent call about a villain incident gone badly wrong, with as many heroes as possible desperately needed to help.

“Go ahead and do everything we had planned,” he urges as he’s leaving, rushing through a parting kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

But you know that it’s not going to be as simple as “I’ll be right back.”

The moment the door shuts behind him, you can’t help but turn on the TV and flip to the news, trying to find out just what Shoto had gotten himself into

The danger of the situation makes you sick with anxiety, and you have to turn it off almost immediately for the sake of your own sanity

Trying to follow his wishes, you go through the motions of the day you had planned, but instead of reaping the intended benefits of rest and relaxation, your brain is completely clouded with worry for Shoto’s safety

Which is only amplified when the hotel lobby has the news on with a crowd of people clumped together before it to see what’s going on, and the receptionist approaches you to ask if you’re alright

Dark falls with no sign of Shoto, but your heart leaps when you get the news notification that the battle is over

You turn the news back on for live coverage of the heroes that participated being interviewed about the events, but your stomach knots once again when you see no sign of Shoto

They haven’t mentioned any casualties, you wonder, but have they missed him or something?

When a knock echoes throughout the room, a cold feeling of dread washes over your body

You freeze and merely stare at the door, sure you’re about to receive the news that’s the worst nightmare of any partner of a hero

Until the door opens, and reveals Shoto holding a bouquet the size of his torso, looking a bit battered but otherwise alright

You launch yourself across the room, and he drops the flowers to engulf you in his arms

“God, Shoto,” you sob. “No matter how long I’ve been with you, waiting and worrying never gets any easier.”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs back, stroking your hair. “But I’m here now. I’m fine. I ran here the moment I could get away.”

When you finally allow him to pull away, he hands you the flowers, and you call room service for a vase and a first-aid kit

You sit Shoto on the bed and tend to his minor wounds, then order some of your favorite comfort foods for a very late dinner

Shoto is never one to discuss his missions right after the fact, so instead you just talk about nonsense things, like the most recent episode of your favorite show to watch together, and where the two of you wanted to go on your next vacation

Afterward, the two of you lay in the dark, so tangled together that it’s nearly impossible to tell who’s whom

Neither of you are tired at all, realizing fully that the privilege of getting to hold each other like you are was almost taken away that day

You feel your eyes start to well up at just how much you love the man next to you, realizing how much you need him

Shoto seems to sense that you’re going to a dark place, so he traces his fingers lightly against your cheek and breaks the silence.

“I forgot to tell you. I extended our stay here so we can still celebrate like we were planning to. I’m sorry I had to go today.”

“Shoto, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cup his cheek back, a few tears spilling out of your eyes as they meet his. “I’m just so glad you’re safe and that you’re here with me.”

Yaoyorozu Momo

Recently, an adorable little paint-your-own-pottery studio had opened on yours and Momo’s route home

You two had always meant to go for a fun date, but never really had the time, so when a Valentine’s event is announced, you both leap at the opportunity and reserve your spots right away

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you and Momo show up half an hour early for the event, wearing coordinating shades of red and pink

Laughing at your accidental matching, the two of you kill the time until the event begins by taking a million photos together

When the doors to the shop open and you’re finally allowed in, Momo’s eyes nearly pop out of her head in excitement, and you just know it’s going to become a regular date spot for the two of you

The shop is decorated like a romantic tea shop straight out of a cheesy movie, with lace doilies marking work stations, faux roses as centerpieces, and red, white, and pink balloons covering the ceiling

The special event involves painting spindly teacups with handles shaped like hearts, the workstations supplied with punch and sweets, all colored and shaped for the holiday

“Look at these!” She exclaims, picking up the ceramic cup at her workstation. “What should we paint on them?”

“Why don’t we do a matching design?” you suggest. “That way we can remember this even better.”

“Yes, let’s do that!” she agrees. “What design should we do, then?”

You two decide to keep it simple: paint the mugs solid baby pink, stamp tiny red hearts all around, and then Momo would use her elegant handwriting and paint both of your initials in calligraphy on one of the faces.

You ready your stations and sit shoulder-to-shoulder as you work, chatting and giggling the entire time, occasionally nudging each other playfully with your legs

“Could you hold the cup at this angle for me while I do the calligraphy?” she requests, which gives you an excuse to sit even closer to her, the scent of her rosy perfume engulfing you

“I wish I had handwriting like that,” you whine, watching her paint the graceful swirls of your initials, followed by the date below.

“I can teach you,” she offers, coming to stand behind you. “Here.”

She puts her hand over yours, and guides it along in the shape of the letters, her free arm looping around the front of your shoulders in a casual hug

“See? You’ve done it!”

“It still doesn’t look nearly as good as yours.”

“Well, my heart stamps don’t look nearly as good as yours. I don’t think I applied enough pressure.” She returns to her own seat, stares at you for a few moments, then giggles. “Speaking of, you’ve got paint on your face. Come here.”

You lean forward so she can wipe off the paint with a gentle touch, and she places a kiss on the now-clean spot.

“There. All better.”

When the two of you finish painting the mugs, you turn them into the counter so they can be finished in the kiln, then sit by the window of the shop to enjoy your sweets while you wait

“I’m very excited about these cups,” Momo says, reaching out for your hand. “They’ll be a lovely little keepsake.”

“Me, too,” you agree, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’ll be nice to have tea in them every evening.”

“Exactly. And if there’s ever a time when we have to be separated, whether it be for hero work or some other reason, we can bring our cups with us to remember that the other is always there, waiting to come have tea together.”

Shigaraki Tomura:

Despite his villainous ideals, in romance, Shiggy is actually quite sweet, if not a little clumsy

When you first became close to him, his unhealthy lifestyle and lack of self-care worried you, so you made a habit of cooking for Shigaraki, and leaving a week’s worth of nutritious meals in the League’s fridge for him

He had never revealed this to you, but he appreciated it so much, and wanted to return the favor

When Toga mentioned something about Valentine’s Day, he knew that it was his perfect opportunity, and made his plans by ordering everyone of the League to get out and stay out for the night

He then did some research about something good to make you, wracking his brain to try and remember what you’ve mentioned liking, until he remembers a very important fact:

He can’t cook.

At all.

Has never even once tried.

Which poses an obvious problem.

He panicked for a few moments, until he landed on a new, and possibly better, idea

When you arrive for the date, dressed comfortably (because, as much as you love Shigaraki, you know that there’s no way you’ll be going out for Valentine’s Day), you’re a little bit surprised to find him standing in the kitchen

“Shiggy?” You approach the counter warily. “What are we doing tonight?”

“I can’t cook. I want to know how.”

“You want me to teach you how to cook?”

“Yes. I want to know how to make your favorite meal.”

“Okay. That’s simple enough.” You make to join him in the kitchen, but he blocks your path.

“No. I want to make this for you. Just sit down and...tell me what to do.”

That proves to be quite a bit more difficult, as you never truly understood just how hard it would be to explain cooking to someone that has never used more than a microwave before

The music you had put on in the background was quickly drowned out by his frustrated swears, and you can tell that there are times when he almost loses his temper, but holds it together for the sake of your Valentine’s gift

A couple of utensils do fall victim to his decay, though, and he subtly tries to sweep the remains away in embarrassment.

At one point, his poor knife technique leaves a decently sized cut on his finger, and you jump into action, running for a First-Aid kit

“I’m not a child,” he mutters as you clean the small wound, avoiding your eyes.

“I know,” you reply lightly, pressing a playful kiss to the bandage you had just secured.

As Shigaraki comes close to finishing the meal, you raid Kurogiri’s stores for your favorite bottle of wine, pouring two glasses and setting them out on the table.

“Does this look right?” Shigaraki asks once the final timer goes off, warily holding out his creation.

“You tell me,” you answer. “I’ve made this for you before. It looks the same to me.”

When the two of you sit down and portion out the meal, Shigarki neglects his own plate as he watches you take your first bite

You fight to keep your face neutral, because honestly, it’s god awful, even though you had been right there the whole time, telling him exactly what to do

But you really didn’t expect anything more from a first time-cook, and even though the flavor is completely wrong, you still enjoy it, because you can practically taste how much this prickly mass-murderer actually cares for you

And as twisted as your situation is, you wouldn’t change it for the world

“Is it good?” Shigaraki mumbles from across the table, pulling you from your thoughts.

You take a sip of your wine. “Thank you so much, Tomura. This was such a thoughtful gift. I really appreciate it.”

“I knew it. It’s shit.” He pushes his own plate away in frustration. “I just wanted to pay back a favor and I can’t even do that right.”

“Shig, what did I just say? I appreciate this so much.” You round the table to his seat, rubbing his shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Of course your first attempt doesn’t work. But that gives us something new to do together. For tonight, we’ll order some takeout, but starting tomorrow, I’ll give you another cooking lesson, and then another, and another, and another... as many as it takes until you can make a whole meal for me by yourself. Deal?”

He meets your gaze with a puppy-dog expression, placing his palms over where your hands rested on his chest.

“Deal.”

Dabi/Todoroki Touya:

Let’s just say that Dabi isn’t one to ignore traditions.

He’s one to very openly and dramatically oppose them.

You were anxious if not a little worried to see what he was going to have planned for Valentine’s Day- but, honestly, as his partner, you’re equally as unconventional in your own ideals

And he doesn’t disappoint, coming home with tickets to a ghost tour at the most haunted spot in town.

“Do they even do these on Valentine’s Day?”

“Obviously. That’s when I got the tickets for.” He shrugs. “Apparently it’s a thing that people do.”

“Hopefully not very many people. You know how we hate crowds.”

“And hopefully it’s not overtly themed for this asinine holiday.” He takes your waist and whispers the next words in your ear. “The idea of a dark room and an invisible audience is romantic enough.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“I just made you more excited, didn’t I?”

“You’ll have to wait until the day to find out.”

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you dress for the occasion and meet Dabi at a glamorous hotel in an older part of town

Before the tour begins, the guide allows the guests to go to the bar for some drinks, and begin to tell the story of the hotel and the paranormal activity that had sparked the attraction

Dabi seems uninterested, taking in the architecture of the historic buidling and peering down random hallways

“I’m getting bored of this,” he mutters in your ear. “I’m ready to see something interesting.”

“Shh, Dabi, I’m trying to listen,” you whisper back.

He responds by pinching your ass. “So, are you in a naughty mood tonight? Noted.”

“Stop it,” you mutter, lightly pushing him away, but your flushed skin is a dead giveaway to how you truly feel about the situation.

When the tour actually starts, you and Dabi round out the end of the group as it descends into a long, dark hallway.

Eventually, you feel Dabi’s hand leave its spot around your waist, but you’re so distracted listening the tour guide tell stories at the front to even notice.

Until cold hands grab you from you behind and give you a violent shake, growling animalistically in your ear

You let out a terrified scream, but the laugh that comes after is all-too-familiar

“Dammit, Dabi!” you gasp, doubling over to your breath and quiet your heartbeat.

“Aha.” His hands trail down your sides and squeeze your waist. “Gotcha.”

You eventually reach the main event of the tour, which is an old storeroom that had been unused for years due to the intense paranormal activity

Dabi actually stood still next to you with his arm slung around your shoulders, interested for the first time that night as the guide used the ghost box and actually got answers from the spirits that occupied the room.

Though there are a few times when you have to stop him from pulling some prank to scare the other people taking the tour, trying to convince them that they’re actually in immediate danger of possession

When the event is over, however, and the guide is ushering people back down the hallway, Dabi pulls you into a closet, igniting a small flame on his palm and pressing a finger to his lips

When the noise of the crowd filing out is gone, he presses forward forcefully and starts to bury you in deep, passionate kisses

“Wait, wait.” You pull back once you realize what his idea is. “Isn’t this a little...scary?”

“Isn’t that what makes it fun?”

Aizawa Shota

Valentine’s Day happened to fall around one of Aizawa’s busiest times at UA, and he was so tied up and tired that you had barely seen one another lately.

So, when he remembers what’s coming up and drowsily asks you what you want to do for Valentine’s Day, you surprise him.

“I’ve already made plans for us,” you reveal, handing him a printed itinerary. “I booked us a spot at a day spa. Those are all the treatments we’ll be doing.”

“Why’d you choose this? I’m curious.”

“You need some time to relax, and I want to spend time with you when your mind is on something other than which one of your students is going to get broken next.”

“Fair enough.”

On the morning of, the two of you check into the spa, and are instructed to go change into the fluffy bathrobes they provided

“Do I really have to put this on?” he complains, holding it as one might hold a dirty diaper.

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask, already changed into yours.

“I don’t know how I feel about my chest being out on display like this.”

“Well, I’ll like it.” You snake your hand up his shirt and rake your nails down his skin. “C’mon. We’re going to be late for our couple’s massage.”

Once Aizawa has reluctantly changed, the two of you start off your day with massages and facials

You had arranged for him to get a special eye treatment, and the small sounds of relief from his table reveals that your gift is very much appreciated.

“Are you relaxed?” you inquire as you move on from the massage room to your next destination.

“More relaxed I’ve been since I stepped through the doors of UA for the first time.”

“Well, are you relaxed enough to get a hair treatment?”

“Honestly? Bring it on.”

When Aizawa is laying back in a chair, a towel wrapped around his head and a styling cape draped over his robe, you can’t help but snap photos of the slightly comical scene

“Are you taking pictures?” he grumbles.

“Do you mind that I am?”

“Just as long as my students never see it.”

“Noted,” you reply, adding the photo to an album of embarrassing pictures you planned to show them at the end of the term.

After finishing the hair treatment- Aizawa’s hair looking better than you could ever dream yours would- and moving on to a high-tech infrared light treatment, you finished out the day with a soak in the spa’s top-rate onsen, reserved for just the two of you

You sit in comfortable silence in the hot water, bodies pressed close to each other

Shota’s arm was draped around your shoulder, and you loosely held the hand that fell across your body

When you lay your ear on his chest, you notice that his heartbeat is the calmest you’ve ever heard it

“So, did the spa serve its purpose?” you ask, tilting your head up to gaze at him.

“It did. Though I think it was less the spa’s doing, and more the fact that I spent an entire day with you.”

You hum happily, reaching up and tapping his chin. “Nice and well rested now, are you? You sure look pretty.”

He chuckles lightly, running a hand through your hair. “So do you.”

“Well, there’s still about an hour left until our dinner reservation,” you observe, noticing the clock on the wall. “Is there anything you want to do to kill the time before then?”

“We’re both sitting in hot water, naked,” he replies matter-of-factly. “The answer should be obvious.”

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Fair warning: it's a long post. Let's examine some of the reasons that Kara has cited why she didn't tell Lena the super secret:

1. She wanted to protect her

Now, this one has some legs on it as Kara specifically mentions it in S3 during a conversation with James and Mon-El. And there's definitely some truth to it. But it's also bullshit. Lena was in constant danger and put herself at risk to save/protect Kara who didn't actually need it. In fact, the first time Lena's mentioned (not shown just mentioned) it's in regards to the venture explosion - something that happened because Lex was trying to kill her. People have been trying to kill, kidnap, manipulate, threaten Lena since minute one. Knowing Kara = SG would not have severely worsened any of that. In fact, it might've helped ease Lena's anxieties and resulted in her taking less risks with her life. In fact, I'm surprised Lena didn't think that Kara's association with her was putting Kara at risk (a far more likely thing).

The 100th episode addresses this to some degree in one of the AUs. Lena tells Kara that she wouldn't have had to risk her life dealing with Sam/Reign alone if she'd known the truth and she's absolutely right. And sure, Lena could've told SG and the DEO when she pieced Reign = Sam together but ask yourself, why would she? What assurance did she have that the DEO would not have treated her BEST FRIEND like a hostile instead of someone in need of help? The DEO is guilty of this and they have a history of locking up aliens indefinitely and on occassion straight up murder. After Reign nearly killed their biggest asset (i.e. SG) why in the hell would Lena trust them with helping Sam? She wouldn't nor should she have. She didn't know that she could go to SG because remember, Lena doesn't think of her the same way she does of Kara. SG is not her best friend. She doesn't have a personal, humanized relationship with her (at least not that she knows of). And obviously she's not going to tell Kara the human reporter with the DEO agent sister about it either. And the kryptonite? SG lost her shit over it even though she's been working with the DEO who stockpiled the stuff until SM left with it (a dumbass move that would've bit them so hard in the ass with the WK situation if it weren't for Lena's kryptonite!). Plus, Kara didn't have an issue with Oliver having a kryptonite arrow, J'onn having a sword. But Lena? How dare she!

So yea no. I get that "I kept my secret to protect you" is a popular thing in the hero world but in the case of Kara and Lena, it doesn't make sense and it did make situations unnecessarily harder.

2. She didn't trust Lena

This is mentioned by Kara to William in a deleted scene from S5 but I think it's worth exploring. I'm not sure to what extent Kara means with this but it could be referring to the moments as SG where she did display a distrust of Lena's intentions and she used Lena's personal relationships against her (i.e. asking James to break into Lena's lab). I mentioned the S3 shitshow with the kryptonite which is where a lot of this started but there's also other scenes in that same season where SG pretty much calls into question the so-called trust she has in Lena despite claiming otherwise. The switch was so abrupt the minute she learned Lena not only had but knew how to make kryptonite. Did anyone ever consider why Lena would bother learning how to make kryptonite? I'd hazard a guess that it was something she was looking into even before Sam/Reign. I think she happened to find Lex's stock and she decided to learn how it works and why it affects the Supers like it does. That would explain how Lena seems to be the ONLY ONE able to make an anti-kryptonite suit and other viable forms of the rock (i.e. Harun el). But no, SG and others immediately jump to the worst conclusions and associate the endeavour with Lena's last name, something SG KNOWS Lena is sensitive about it. And then the harun el. SG was suddenly fine with Lena making it when it was to split Sam from Reign and save Argo from extinction. But when it was used for something else that Lena didn't clue her in on (and what do you know, Alex, Brainy and James didn't either and they KNEW what Lena was doing with it) she got back on her high horse and the distrust became front and centre. You can't trust Lena as Kara and then immediately distrust her as SG and expect her to be accepting of this dichotomy. I'm surprised the woman managed to retain her sanity.

And still, this reasoning doesn't quite hit the mark in comparison to every other insistence of Kara believing in Lena (from day one she even told Clark that she believed Lena after meeting her for the first time). But the contrasting opinions and actions must have given Lena pause. I don't blame her to call into question which version of the truth was real and choosing to believe the worst. It's what SG and the SFs have been doing to her.

3. She was wary of Lena

This isn't an explicitly given reason but I do think it's how the secret keeping started in S2. Frankly, I don't even blame Kara for not showing her full deck in the beginning because she (and even us as an audience) didn't know much about Lena beyond wanting to do good and not be like her family. So no, Kara not telling Lena in the beginning actually makes sense to me (though she told Nia in a split second but that's neither here nor there). For me, I started to seriously take Lena at her word after the Medusa episode. That would've been the perfect opportunity for her to show the true "xenophobic" colours some parts of the fandom accuse her of having and she didn't do it. I don't think she even got so much as a thank you for it. People praise SM for getting Lex arrested but ultimately it was Lena's testimony that got him thrown behind bars. Same thing with Lillian! And yes, the daxamite invasion was facilitated by Lena unwittingly working with Rhea but she fixed it with the lead dispersal bomb, a device she allowed SG the privilege of using or not. So Kara and the SFs being cautious about Lena really should've evaporated halfway through S2 (and it did for Kara at least). In fact, the daxamite invasion may not have happened if Lena knew exactly who Rhea was and her relation to Mon-El because they would've warned Lena about it. Lena did want Kara's advice on Rhea and she would've waited for it if she knew what was going on (i.e. Alex being held hostage) and hell, might've been able to fix it in typical Lena ex machina fashion.

4. She didn't want to lose her

This is probably as close to the truth as we've gotten and it's actually part of her confession in 5x01 (something her outburst in 5x19 tries to undo). But the thing is, Kara KNEW this was a possibility and yet, continued walking towards the deadly cliff with her eyes wide open. The probability of losing Lena got higher and higher as time went on and it was always inevitable. There was always this spotlight placed on Kara telling Lena or Lena finding out on her own but there was always a HUGE chance that Lillian would've told her. Or Lex, which is exactly what happened. And Kara knew that they knew and yet she did nothing about it. The minute kara found out Lillian knew she should've taken action, what guarantee did she have that Lillian wouldn't have gotten bored of waiting for Lena to piece it together? How can they just leave Lillian with dangerous knowledge like that is beyond me. When Alex in particular has made such a big deal about people knowing, didn't want Kara telling Lena, only allowed Kara to tell Lucy to save J'onn and yet, letting Lillian amble about with this info is okay??? Nothing was stopping her from telling Lena or it slipping during one their chess games and definitely nothing stopping Lex from dropping that bomb.

The 100th episode AUs showed us that each time it was Kara telling the truth, no matter how hurt and upset Lena rightfully was, she was ultimately fine with it. And Kara ends up losing her to death, not because Lena walked away. How this wasn't the takeaway message for Kara after that adventure, idk. It was Kara's hesitatancy in telling Lena that allowed Lex to weaponize this secret and twist it into something it never was. And yes, Kara doesn't owe a damn soul her secret and has rarely ever been given the chance to tell anyone on her own terms (James - told by SM, Alex, J'onn, Brainy, Mon-El, the Legion - always knew, Lex & Lillian, Lord & Cat - found out somehow). She only ever got to tell Winn, Lucy and Nia and I'm sorry but none of those people have ever proven themselves trustworthy at the time of the reveal the way Lena has.

So while Kara is every right to keep her secrets, she was wrong to insert herself in Lena's life if she never had any intention of telling her and let's be honest, it really didn't seem like Kara had any timeline on that front.

5. She was selfish

Similar to the above and also mentioned during the confession but this is even deeper. Lena was something of an outlet for Kara, a way to feel completely normal, something she hasn't been able to experience with anyone, even Mon-El. Can you imagine being a cub reporter who knows powerful CEO Lena Luthor and having said CEO choose to spend time with you? Choose to let you interview her when she's wary of the press (remember her interactions with Clark in 2x01 and her family history)? Choose to treat your problems as important and valid and human? I don't blame Kara at all for being selfish with Lena, for wanting to keep Lena all to herself like that. But to not share the other aspects of herself was seriously wrong too and resulted in this imbalance in their relationship. To Lena, it looks like she was giving all of herself when Kara was not. It looks like she put all her trust and vulnerabilities out there when Kara didn't. It looks like Kara was using her (which let's be real, she kinda did a few times in S2 with the fight club and bs article to get info on Lillian and then ofc the CatCo-Edge problem she visited Lena for after ignoring her and proceeding to continue the rejection after Lena said she'd look into it).

You think post-reveal Lena didn't think back to all those moments and have those kinda thoughts? Even called into question what might've been the real reason James dated her and Kara was so insistent on befriending her? Were there perhaps times were she figured it out and can't remember and what's why she chose not to see it? Why do we think she still showed up game night in 4x22 instead of confronting Kara? Because these thoughts amongst others must've been swarming her mind and the only way to keep the upper hand is to continue playing dumb. So yes, Kara made the conscious decision to be selfish with Lena because of the unexpected connection they forged and I get it totally. But Lena has never been selfish and she's always made hard efforts to be a damn good friend (and she was idc what others might think on that) and open herself up to Kara despite how difficult and frankly foreign that is for her.

So are Kara's reasons valid? To a point, I would say yes but their validity waned over the seasons to the point where the secret keeping didn't even make sense anymore.

So was Lena's anger valid? Yes! 100% it was and honestly, I'm surprised she managed to keep it together for so long. I couldn't. But her anger doesn't justify her actions (mind control, manipulating Kara, threatening Russell, holding J'onn's bro captive, putting Hope inside Eve) and how she went out of her way to hurt Kara back. However, I get why she did it though it's worth pointing out that this is the only instances of a betrayal in her life where Lena has gone this far. Bitch straight up spiralled where previously she would cut ties and move the fuck on with life. But with Kara, that doesn't even seem to manifest itself to Lena as an option. Will the show ever address the obvious WHY for this and for Kara being so so terrified of losing Lena (like honestly I have never seen Kara look more distressed).

Maybe, maybe not but regardless I'm not buying this platonic friends nonsense because no one is that devastated over a friendship. Many of us (myself included) have experienced falling outs with very close friends and breakups. Which one do you think the Kara/Lena rift in S5 felt like? It was full on heartbreak, loving someone in complete torment and not being able to stop despite wanting to because even though it's painful, the alternative is infinitely worse.

MB and KM's acting choices aside, these idiot showrunners have brought us to this point with their own narrative and the only logical next step is to make them canon.

Lol okay I'm done.

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

For those who don’t know who this is. This is Zirin. Zirin was a patient of a fire nation mental health facility. After being broken out of her facility by Azula, Zirin joined the fire nation warriors, and intended to force Zuko into adopting autocratic policies. To do so, Zirin and the other Warriors masqueraded as the Kemurikage and began abducting children of high-ranking officials in the fire nation capital. Not much is known about her and it's unclear when Azula met her. Here’s my take on more depth to her character. She is a psychiatrist and master chemist who creates hallucinogenic chemical compounds, similar to fear toxin, that she uses to commit multiple murders and destroy her surviving victims' sanity. Zirin can control her killing intention and use it to intimidate others. Zirin is extremely intelligent, with a particular facility for psychology, chemistry, and psychopharmacology. She is a skilled leader and tactician. Due to her long-term exposure to various chemicals and toxins, she has an enhanced immunity to all of them and is no longer capable of feeling fear. She specializes in studying phobias and anxiety disorders, making her a living textbook on the study of fear. She’s the one who designed the Kemurikage tactics and masquerade and the rest of the fire nation warrior women are her followers due to their unfortunate encounters with her. In addition to her own intellect, Zirin can also use schmoozing to get what she wants, if the situation calls for it, acting along the lines of a seedy car saleswoman or con-artist. Even so, she's honest and keeps her end of the bargain with every deal, no matter what the stakes are. She is a competent fighter, stealth tactician, and skilled in the use of scythes and customized flail-type sickles as weapons. Zirin is generally calm, cool, and collected. Though her machinations are cruel, menacing and nightmare-fueling, Zirin's informal approach to villainy makes her a widely comedic character with a self-aware and irreverent style of humor, though her jokes are usually played for her own, twisted amusement, and at the expense of others. However, this is partly surface-level; Zirin is eternally bitter, imperious and has limited patience, with her most famous trait being her uncontrollably fervid temper. At times, the smallest inconveniences can send Zirin over the edge. These qualities make her a feared figure among all nations, among her fire nation warrior peers, and even among Azula. In addition, Azula was frightened and disgusted with Zirin’s ideas of murdering children and instead settles with simple child abductions and does everything she can to keep Zirin in check. The only person who doesn’t fear her is Ozai. In fact, she’s his secret apprentice and they plot to over throw the white lotus and make way for it’s antithesis, the red lotus, the new Ozai society is the red lotus in disguise and the name of the red lotus’ founder, Xai Bau, is Ozai’s alias, all things that Azula is unaware of. Simply put, she’s basically the avatar universe’s Michael Myers with Dc’s scarecrow’s equipment/tactics and Disney’s Hades’ personality. If she was in the animated series, I imagine she’d be voiced by either Ashley Johnson or Becky G.