#half that shit goes in the air. $25 gone with the wind!

[swiftfootedachilles]

What are your thoughts about Mickey being asthmatic since he was a kid? (been having breathing problems lately, totally not projecting lol)

Like, how would it affect his south side thug persona, him not being able to smoke that much/at all, dr*ug use, stamina, other stuff, and changes in his life in general?

one thing about mickey is he will definitely be serving the cuntiest COPD symptoms in the retirement home!!

canonically, my mans definitely is not in the best shape due to his smoking lol i always think of his wheezes in s10 after scaling the gallagher house 😭

i have asthma triggered by exercise so i really have no clue what other types of asthma are like. but with that, i imagine mickey would play a more passive role in his familys antics, getting his cousins and siblings to do all his dirty work. he commits lots of drive-bys. no running in this universe bitch! im kinda poor and even spending the few bucks on an emergency inhaler has become futile bc it ends up expiring without getting used and i forget to take it with me anyway. so i think mickey definitely has the same mindset of "yeah imma just avoid triggers and if something happens guess ill die 🤪"

mickey is never beating the pillow process allegations so thats not very different from canon 🤭

i hate the idea of mickey being unable to smoke simply bc 1. smoking sexy and homoerotic 2. he would definitely chew instead and i cant handle that level of nasty redneck-ness 🤢

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Texas relief, @wincest-endgame donated $25, and requested Sam & the amulet through the years. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

(read on AO3)

Dean pushes Sam into the bathroom, after what feels like a day of questioning and caution and Dean being withholding—he's so bad at it, Sam doesn't know why he even tries—and Bobby avoiding Sam's eyes—and Sam'll figure that out, eventually—but it's really only four in the afternoon, and he's got food in his belly for the first time in what feels like a week but he's assured is a year, and he's had a beer and a cup of coffee and Dean's squeezed his arm, on his bicep just above the bend of his elbow, and looked into his eyes for a full heart-rich moment when Bobby was on the phone in the kitchen and couldn't see—and they didn't do anything, of course they didn't, not in Bobby's house, but Sam closed the door behind himself with that look thick in his head, the knowing that Dean was safe and okay and that Lucifer didn't hurt him—that everyone was okay, that what he'd done by jumping into the cage had worked when he hadn't been sure, not at all, that it would—and he still doesn't really know how he got out but he'll get that out of Dean eventually—and he turns on the shower and smiles at the rickety jump of the hot water because, holy shit, he's alive to suffer Bobby's godawful shower—and he pulls the shirt off over his head, and unbuttons his jeans, and fishes in his pocket for his phone and his wallet like he always does—and finds a new phone that he doesn't recognize, which makes him frown, a wallet that he does, and—the amulet.

The air goes out of him. The shower's guttering down, getting warm at last. He hears Dean's voice through the door, saying something to Bobby although Sam doesn't know what. Sam twines the leather cord around his fingers and crushes the little metal head in his palm, standing there in his socks and boxers. He didn't lose it. Somehow he—hadn't thought about it, until now, but now that he has he just—assumed it'd be gone. He's not in the same clothes he was wearing before he fell, so—did Dean—? He doesn't know and in this second doesn't care. He brings his closed fist up to his mouth, the cord thin and worn against his lips. He breathes in, slow.

The last time he held it in his hand was—Detroit. Milkjugs of blood sitting in the trunk. Dean—somewhere, talking to Cas maybe, and Sam alone, and Sam was alone a lot then. It feels like yesterday. He'd felt distant somehow. Even if Dean had forgiven him, or at least had been willing to try to forgive him. Ever since the second he'd made the decision to say yes, and decided to make Dean agree, it was like he'd been one step outside his life, looking in. Watching Dean try to accept it and knowing Dean never would. Watching Dean, with his hands in his pockets, and his hand curled so hard around the amulet that the horned edge had actually cut into his palm and he'd bled, inside his jeans. Not minding that and squeezing it tighter. Reminding himself why what he was doing mattered so he wouldn't falter. He wasn't going to falter.

Lucifer had healed that little wound without even acknowledging it. Sam remembers that if nothing else. He opens his hand and he's made sore white marks where the edges of the demon-head have cut into his palm. The shower hisses, next to him, and there's a thump of the side of a fist against the door—"Hey, princess, don't take forever on the primping," Dean says, muffled, the idiot—christ, Sam loves him.

He looks up at the door, startled. Creak of floorboards outside, like Dean's just standing there. Sam blinks at the peeled paint, and calls back, "Dude, it's my first shower in a year, hold your horses," and Dean says, "Yeah, yeah," and Sam closes his hand around the amulet again, his chest—thick. He can't take a full breath. He stoops, and loops the amulet cord around itself three times, four, and tucks it back down into the deepest corner of the pocket of his jeans. He crouches there for a second, feeling—feeling. The steam in the air curls against his skin. He has to stand up. Take the shower, get into fresh clothes, get back out into the house, figure things out. Figure where the world is, after a year without him in it. He crouches there, instead, taking in air. There's a little spot on his jeans, he realizes. Worn, nearly white, where something's made a space for itself. You wouldn't notice the difference, if you saw it every day, but with a jump of time between the last time he wore these jeans and now—it's obvious.

*

Of course it was longer than a year. Of course there were things Dean didn't tell him. Soulless, Sam thinks, trying the word out by himself, when Castiel's left and Sam's waiting for Dean to get back with the sword. Soulless. Not—a good thing to be. He's pretty sure.

Things that are described as soulless: corporations, governments. His comparative philosophy professor in junior year. Soulless due to lack of consideration, due to lacking character, due to—what? Indifference. Cruelty.

When they got to Portland, Dean picked the motel by turning into a random parking lot off the highway, and Sam hauled most of their bags in because he could tell Dean was tired after all the driving, and he'd barely made it through blinking at the one king bed before the door slammed behind Dean and Dean hauled him around by the jacket and gripped his shirt and said low and fervent, Sammy, if you don't want to you're gonna have to knock me out, and Sam dropped the bags right there in the entrance and got his hand on Dean's face and dragged his thumb soft over Dean's pretty lower lip and felt how Dean tensed, and then how the tension spilled out of him like water.

He doesn't get it. He walked around, he was told, without a soul, for a year. More than a year. Castiel was very precise about it. He'd left Dean with Lisa and found his grandfather, instead—his grandfather!—and he'd hunted. When they came to Dean it was by accident, Castiel said, and then when Dean had started hunting with Sam it had seemed to be for convenience, rather than something that meant—anything. Shifters, alphas. Vampires. Castiel knew all of it and told Sam earnestly, not judging. Sam had tried to kill Bobby but it was all right, Castiel said, because Dean had gotten so fearful and sick that he'd let himself die, to speak to Death, to make Sam right. He would have died, if Sam hadn't gotten right. It had been worth that. It had been that bad.

There's a text, from Dean. Sorta got the sword. Back in 8 hrs. Want any sourdough?

Sorta? Sam chews his lip. Just the dragon-killing magic weapon, thanks, he texts back, and Dean texts him a :) and Sam puts down his phone and stands up from the table and wants to vomit. Jesus christ. Soulless, he thinks, again, and pulls the amulet out of his pocket, winding the cord around his knuckles, staring at it.

He kept it. Somehow, some way. A year and more. From however he got spit out of the cage, from looking at Dean and choosing to turn away from him, to having Dean back and treating him like—he shudders. His indifferent callous body, carving an efficient line through the world. Sam wants to remember and doesn't. He does want to know what the exact moment was like, when he stuck his hand in his pocket standing on a street under a flickering lamp, watching Dean through a window like a damn pervert, and felt the amulet skin-warmed and heavy against his skin, and thought—what?

He puts it back in his pocket. Eight hours, until Dean gets back. Sam drags his hand over his mouth. When he shifts he can feel it—a little, nagging weight, pressed against his thigh. A year and a half of that with no reason to keep it. With all the reason in the fucking world to keep it. He blows out air until his chest is empty. Eight hours. He'd better have something to show for it. He gets to work.

*

He remembers, of course, later. Fractured, incomplete. Three selves' memories colliding and sleepless nights with a monster whispering in his ear. He curls on his side in a too-warm bed and watches Dean, curled beside him, sleeping. Frowning in his sleep. Lucifer says, though Sam ignores him, "Imagine how much easier he'd have had it at Lisa's, right? Bet she wore sweet little nightgowns, too. Where's yours, Sammy?"

In the cage he hadn't worn the amulet around his neck, not like he had in the year of Dean's absence. Lucifer didn't allow that. Sometimes he would crouch alone in the dark while Lucifer and Michael fought and he'd get space to breathe although breathing there always felt like the coldest depth of a North Dakota January. Shards of ice in his throat. The air thin. The air, of course, not real, but no matter how much Sam's conscious brain tries to rationalize when he has a moment to think, the cage isn't a place for rationality. Lucifer throttles him and Sam knows distantly that his lungs aren't real but he chokes anyway. He chokes. The air whittled thin in his throat and the edges of his vision vignetting to black, to sparkle-shot oxygenless, uncertain—

He turns his head, gasps deep. "Aw, thought I had you there," he hears, and turns fully onto his back, and they didn't bother undressing tonight before Dean crashed miserably into the mattress so he's still got his jeans on, and he shoves his hand into his pocket and wraps his hand around the amulet and squeezes so hard the horned heavy edges tear into his thin unhealed skin and the pain—god, the pain, piercing, cleansing.

It hurts. The room's quiet, except for the rattle of the heater under the window. Dean's breath, at his side. Not quite a snore. Sam's bleeding. He can feel the bandage getting wet. He curls his hand tighter and fumbles in the dark. A hitch—Dean's baby snore, interrupted—and Sam goes shh, as soft as he physically can, and Dean huffs and turns over and puts his face on Sam's shoulder, and Sam squeezes his hip through his jeans very gently, settling down. Lucifer will be back, he knows. When it's worst. When he thinks he's nearly fallen asleep. When Dean wakes up, in the pre-dawn because he has to piss, and he leans in first and kisses Sam's jaw, rough and sleepy with his breath rank, when Sam loves him just—the absolute most—Lucifer will ruin it. Even if Sam knows it isn't real it's as predictable as it is gutting.

He pulls his fist out of his pocket, amulet included. Dean won't wake for—what time is it?—hours. He turns his head toward Dean's, presses his lips against the warmth of his hair. He settles his fist on his chest. If the blood spills—well, it won't be the first time Sam's lost a shirt to blood.

*

Taking the amulet out of the trash wasn't a decision, when he did it. When animals are cornered their lashing out is survival, nothing else. He kept it because—he had to keep it. It wasn't possible that it be left where it was. An indifferent housekeeper dumping it into the mixed refuse of a half-dozen rooms; a trip to a dumpster, and then a dump, to be lost. No.

They had—

Sam knew it didn't matter in the face of what came later but he still felt it. That day. Vermont, autumn. The leaves dark red in the setting sun, or red just because they were. Immaterial, with Dean's back against the tree and his face tipped up to Sam's. Shocked. Sam's fingers on his jaw and then trailing down his throat, hooking into the cord of the amulet and pulling, down, to the demon-head, and Dean letting that tiny insignificant weight tip him forward so he met Sam's mouth when Sam offered it. The bodywarm of it against Sam's thumb when Dean's lips touched his, and how his hand closed into a fist on instinct, shocked too.

Whatever betrayals had come later. Whatever misunderstandings and miseries. There was still that day, and all the days before. This solid thing that had marked Dean as Sam's brother, for all the months and years marching all the way back to that stupid, shitty Christmas morning, five a.m. cold and disappointing, and Sam making the first decision that was really his own that he'd ever made. Handing over the shitty little packet of a gift he hadn't picked, and Dean looking at him with this—rare, uncertain happiness. Not willing to take it, in case it'd be snatched away like everything else had been.

Maybe that hadn't been a decision either, in retrospect. It was Sam's first day, in a hunted life that wasn't one he'd chosen, and maybe that was just instinct. Looping something around Dean's throat and saying, please. Dean had taken it. Said yes. Tossing it in the trash, later—well, Sam didn't blame him, but and he understood if the yes was retracted, but—Sam couldn't let it go. Even if he was the only one who remembered. Even if, ever after, even if they hurt each other and found each other again and circled each other like twin stars in an uncertain orbit—even if they met, in a dark room, and Dean said to him soft and sorry, Sammy, I swear, and Sam dragged Dean's body over the top of his and took the weight and feel of him like a payment, due—even then. He kept the damn thing, quiet, and his.

It didn't even register, after a while. It transferred from jeans to duffle to backpack to jacket. Part of the morning pat-check, unthinking unless something was missing: phone wallet amulet keys. Amelia never asked about it. Gadreel never interfered with it. When Dean was a demon Sam got up every morning in an empty bed and took a shower and carefully lifted his sling over his head and being ready for the day meant sling wallet keys amulet phone list of contacts he hadn't burned through yet and it just—felt like part of him. He thought about it as much as he thought about his lung.

On the day that Dean almost killed him Sam got dressed without thinking because there were more important things than thinking, and he put on jeans and he put on his boots and he put on shirt, shirt, jacket, and he dragged his hand through his hair instead of combing it, and he put in his pockets keys phone amulet wallet and he stood there, then, in the total quiet of the bunker, and took the amulet back out of his pocket. He looked at it in his palm. Small, heavy. The cord looping back over his knuckles. Dean had had to get new ones, he remembered. The leather ones kept wearing through, because Dean wore it every second: sleeping, waking, in the shower. When they were in bed, and Sam folded Dean in close against his chest, and Dean's lips brushed his jaw, and Sam slipped careful fingers under the cord, worrying at it. If only he'd known, then, the things he had to worry about.

He put the amulet back in his pocket. He went to Dean's room, in the bunker, and found the pictures Dean didn't keep very well hidden, and flicked past the ones of them together until he found the one of their mother. That, maybe. That would work. It wasn't fair, that day, to try to pretend anything else would, and as far as what mattered more to Sam—that was his problem, he thought, and nothing that needed to bother Dean. It was important, he thought, to be realistic.

*

"Give us a minute," Dean says.

"Dean," Sam says, appalled.

Chuck—Chuck? Jesus christ—jesus christ! Sam thinks. Chuck looks entertained, standing there in his sneakers—his Chucks! Jesus christ!—and his jeans and his simple short body and how he's—he's—

"Dude, seriously," Dean says, impatient, and Chuck raises his hands like surrender and says, "Hey, no, I get it! You've got stuff to talk about! Just say my name when you're ready, we've got all the time in the world, I'm sure my sister isn't planning the imminent destruction of all creation," and he winks, and then—disappears, jesus christ because Chuck is GOD—

"Sammy," Dean says, firm.

"Dean," Sam says back, immediately, "what are you doing—holy shit, do you realize—"

"Sam," Dean says, in a different tone, and Sam's gut jolts, hooked. Diverted.

The bunker, quiet around them. They're in the map room and the lights are all on full, bright and warm. Dean's looking at him and Sam—they've been good, it's been good, for months and months—the best it's ever been, even better than those first heady days when they were learning each other, young and reckless—and even with all that, Sam's nervous, somehow.

"How you doing, Sammy," Dean says, eyes narrow.

Sam lets out a sharp breath.

Dean seems surprised at the lack of answer and his chin tips up. He looks at Sam steadily. Sam doesn't know what he's supposed to say and so stays silent, and Dean keeps looking at him and then slides his hand into his pocket, and pulls out—of course.

He holds it low, in front of himself, dangling from two fingers. The heavy pendulum sway. Dean's eyes are low, fixed on it, but Sam's watching Dean's face.

There are obvious things to say that Dean doesn't say and Sam's grateful for it. "You took the other one," is what Dean says, and he doesn't look up to see Sam frown confusion but he must sense it, somehow, because he continues: "From that—jesus, Sam. From that play, that the girls put on. When I came out to the car the next morning it was gone. Doesn't seem fair. You got the prop and the real thing, both."

"Sorry," Sam says, and Dean says, "Christ," and takes the three long steps across the room to where Sam's got his back to a pillar and kisses him. Sam takes it, breathing in. Not soft, not that giving sweet that Dean can be, but it's Dean's mouth and therefore it's a miracle, every time.

Dean pulls back. His brow rolls against Sam's, brief, and then he sets down from where he lifted up on his toes, and he looks at Sam from six inches, their hips pressed together. The amulet swings against Sam's stomach, from where Dean's hands are fisted on his sternum.

"Sammy," Dean says, and Sam takes a deep breath and says, "I didn't mean to keep it—secret."

It's a lie and a bad one. He doesn't know why he said it that way but he doesn't know a truer one. He didn't—make a decision about it. It was just that…

Dean doesn't call him on it. "You said," he starts, and then his cheek sucks in on one side. Sam notices for the first time how tired his eyes are. It was a long day. The fog and the people they couldn't save. He folds one hand over one of Dean's, pressed against his chest, and Dean's eyes dip, and maybe that makes it easy enough because Dean says, "Sam, I wouldn't choose her."

Sam takes a deep breath. Their hands rise, all knotted together. Dean says, "It kills me, Sammy. That you think I'd—but I wouldn't. If it were any choice, if I could—make it how I wanted it to be. I wouldn't, not fuckin' once," and Sam says, "I know," just to stop Dean from talking, with his voice thickening up that way.

God's somewhere, waiting in the wings. Sam doesn't give a shit, anymore. Dean's mouth turns up at one corner but it's not happy, and Sam slides his free hand up Dean's side, gripping through his jacket, trying. However he knows how to try. "I know," he says, again, because—christ, he does. That nasty awful fog doesn't get to take this from him. "Dean, I told you before. Whatever she makes you—think, or do. I got it. I can handle it."

Dean bites his lips between his teeth and he looks down. His thumb catches the swinging cord of the amulet. "You know," Dean says, echoing. A question, buried down in it.

He hasn’t said it, specifically, out loud or internally or even when he prayed, back when he thought that praying was something that mattered, but: Sam hates Amara. Hates every aspect of her, baby to adult to imagined vision to physical manifestation to the haunted look, in Dean's eye, when he thinks Sam isn't looking. Hates how she makes Dean doubt. Hates how she makes Dean afraid. Hates every fragment of her that draws Dean's attention away, makes him look into the shadows of the room, makes him weak and afraid of his own weakness. In their bed at night Dean lays awake and Sam is awake with him and he thinks—how can he prove it? How can he show Dean how much he wants to take this burden away—to make it so the darkness is nothing that could come between them?

"Sam," Dean says. "You're…"

Nothing goes there. What could? Sam slides his hand from Dean's side up to the back of Dean's neck, cupping his skull, holding. He ducks his head. His temple against Dean's temple, Dean's breath against his throat. He closes his eyes and reaches and finds the amulet, dangling, on his first try. Luck. He gathers it into his palm and knocks Dean's fist open and closes their hands together, fisted around the sharp little weight of it. Any other day Dean would make a crack about holding hands.

Sam says, "I kept it because I wanted you. It wasn't your fault that things went bad. Or, I don't know. Half yours and half mine. Or maybe it was destiny's fault—fate, or something. It doesn't matter. What mattered was—how you stuck with me. How we—figured it out, every time. No matter how crappy it got, or how much we didn't trust each other, or… Because it's us, right? Every time. It's us, no matter what. I knew that on days I didn't know anything else. Nothing's going to take that away. Not the Darkness. Not God."

True. Dean's temple tips, against his. Their stubble drags together. "Not even the big guy, huh?" he says. Frail. "Seem pretty sure of yourself, there."

"I am," Sam says, not joking, and hears the breath Dean takes in. He squeezes their hands together, squeezes the back of Dean's neck.

"Shit," Dean says, and lets out a fraction of a laugh. "I wish I..."

He shakes his head, tipping away from Sam. Sam looks at his profile. The sweep of his eyelashes. His nose, with the little broken tilt. His jaw, squared. Sam bites the inside of his cheek and then lets go of Dean's neck, and folds their hands together all in a square—Dean's hand over Sam's over Dean's over Sam's—and when he unfolds them the amulet's caught in Dean's palm, and Sam folds his fingers over Dean's fist and pushes it, down, tucking it neat into Dean's jacket pocket. Dean blinks at him.

"I don't need a reminder," Sam says. Echo of something that feels like forever ago, surprisingly—now—true. "I'll be right here. No matter what. I swear."

He lets go of Dean's fist and slides up his arm, holding his shoulder instead. Dean looks back and forth between his eyes. "Thank you, Sam," he says, serious.

Sam nods. Dean looks up into his eyes, and then at his mouth, and when he leans for the kiss Sam responds simply, holding him and trying to say—everything there is to say. There could never be enough time, to say all there is to say.

Dean pulls back, after a few seconds. Not nearly enough. Their noses brush together and Dean's hands are on his chest, heavy. The amulet in his pocket. Where it belongs, Sam thinks, but it doesn't—matter, the same way it did before. It's not tying Dean to him; it's not a relic of a promise, broken and then kept. He touches Dean's jaw, with his thumb, and Dean sighs against him.

"Guess we should call him back," Dean says. "You think he knows we totally made out just now?"

Sam groans, and pushes Dean away, and catches him smiling. "You're totally going to hell," he says, and Dean winks at him, and turns away, and calls out, "Yo, Chuck!" like he's calling the literal creator for a dinner of hot wings, and Sam would despair but Dean's hand is in his pocket, and—well, they're okay, so. It's okay.

[dearophelia]

turn on your favorite nightlight

long live :: nine of wands :: turn on your favorite nightlight

Hannah partakes in that gold match from combat, i’m ready for combat. It goes about as well as you can expect.

It’s three weeks before Liv’s back on the Citadel and schedules line up for their gold match. Hannah’s spent most of those three weeks pointedly not talking about it to Zaeed, but spending a little extra time at the shooting range. If he notices (and there’s no way he doesn’t), he doesn’t say anything.

After a warmup bronze match against geth that earns Hannah her first kill medal, Hannah watches the three of them load up on gear in a way they haven’t yet. They’ll be on gold, but given how they’re gearing up for this (and that Olivia programs a missile launcher for each of them), Hannah thinks she could’ve gone her entire life without knowing her daughter soloed something called platinum. More than once.

Liv hands her a handful of mod chits to plug into her gear slots on the match configuration board. The board beeps and displays the mod name as it registers each. A pistol amp, armor-piercing rounds, shield power cells, and a shield booster, all maxed out at level five. Hannah swallows.  

“Map preference?” Garrus says, flipping through the choices. “Giant, Rio –”

“Fuck Rio,” Zaeed and Olivia say at the same time. Hannah wonders what the story is there.

“– Giant, Vancouver, Goddess, Hydra, or Dagger?”

Olivia checks the sights on her shotgun. “I’m too short for Dagger. And, you know,” she says as she slams her locker shut, “maybe not Goddess.”

There’s a twinge of pain in Olivia’s voice. Earth’s never been home for Olivia, but Thessia was for a while. Probably still is.

Garrus nods. “Any objection to Hydra?” Hearing none, he selects the map, sets the enemy, and challenge.

The board flashes HYDRA – REAPERS – GOLD and then begins a countdown.

Ten seconds to back out.

“Breathe,” Hannah says to herself.

***

A barrage of grenades explodes at the other end of the map and it’s a lot of effort not to sit down in a corner, cry, and just let something kill her.

Gold is loud. Gold is chaos. Gold has too many enemies coming from too many directions at once. Gold is overwhelming. She’s gone down four times and hit a grand total of zero targets.

It’s wave three. Of eleven. And this is what her daughter deals with every time she jumps out of a shuttle. Crying seems like a really good idea.

It doesn’t help that she’s been split off from the others. She’s hiding at the very corner of the map under a ladder, hoping nothing notices her.

The others aren’t together either, but they know what they’re doing. Their comm chatter has been heavier this match – amidst calling out shots and swearing, there’s still an astonishing amount of banter – and none of them are as scared as she is.

Which makes sense: they’ve all been doing this a long time and they did it together for a year and a half. But it doesn’t make her feel better.

Something slides down the ladder and lands in a crouch next to her. Hannah startles and whips around so fast she loses her balance. She comes face to face with Olivia.

Liv peers out of cover long enough to scan the immediate area. Finding nothing worrisome, she taps her comms. “Massani, Vakarian, keep the shit off us,” she orders. “We’re in the back corner by the dam. Back in a minute.” She switches her comms to silent and then reaches out, tapping the same control on Hannah’s gear.

“Liv,” Hannah starts, but she doesn’t know what comes after. She wants to be brave for her daughter, but she’s fucking terrified.

“Mom,” Olivia says, as steady and collected as Hannah’s ever heard her. “Number one, none of this is real. Remember that. Safety protocols are locked on and there is no such thing as friendly fire. You cannot get hurt.”

Hannah nods. Olivia’s voice is calm and comforting, soothing amidst the gunfire and fighting.

“Number two, we’ve got you. Zaeed, Garrus, and I. We know how to do this. We will get you through this.”

It’s the nightmare voice.

Hannah used this exact tone with Olivia and Mark when they were small and had a scary dream. She doesn’t know how she feels about Liv using that same voice back onto her, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, the nightmare voice is exactly what she needs to hear.

“Good air in, bad air out,” Olivia says.

An uncomfortable mechanical noise whirs nearby. Liv pops up, scopes in on the marauder, and blows its head off.

A little medal appears in the corner of Hannah’s HUD: Olivia Shepard – 15 Headshots.

“Mom,” she says, drawing Hannah’s attention again. “Good air in. Bad air out.”

It’s an order.

Even if she could argue, Hannah wouldn’t. Not with that tone to Liv’s voice. Hannah takes a deep breath.

“Do you need to stop?” Olivia asks, brow furrowed deeply in concern.

Yes.

“No,” she says firmly. “I want – I need to finish this. And then drink. Heavily.” This is her daughter’s life. All this fighting, all these horrors, and Hannah can’t do a goddamn thing to protect her from it.

A brute goes down on the walkway above them (Garrus Vakarian – 25 kills) and the metal structure shakes, grating and shrieking against itself.

“Well, Zaeed lost the headshot bet in the warmup, so drinks are on him tonight.” Liv’s smile drops and she throws two grenades at an influx of cannibals in the courtyard before they can get any ideas. “I’m right here. And I’m staying right here. If you want to park it next to me in cover for the rest of this, that’s alright. I’ve got you.”

They’re in armor in a combat simulator on the Citadel, not barefoot in a chilly cornfield on Mindoir, but for a moment – it’s suddenly eighteen years ago. Only this time, Olivia’s saying Hannah’s words.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, holding her daughter close as withered corn stalks rustled in the wind. “I’ve got you.”

Hannah exhales. Bad air out.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Hannah nods.

There’s that smile again, reassuring and solid. Olivia gently clasps her shoulder. “Good hunting.”

Hannah offers a half-hearted smile in return. She swallows. “Good hunting.”

[ixeliema]

Insecure - Shane x my farmer, Terra

By popular demand (sort of, I mean I have never posted content on Tumblr out of fear it would get stolen or that I’d get harassed for it, so “popular” means like 2 reblogs and around 30 likes, THANK YOU ALL), here’s my fic about Shane being an awkward scared bean!

Summary: Terra and Shane had grown really close over time, and have formed somewhat of a routine. Shane goes to the saloon after work, Terra meets him with a beer for conversation. When Terra stops coming to the saloon, Shane begins to wonder what he did wrong, and if he messed up.

TWs: Implied self harm near the end, Talk of Suicide and Suicide Attempts, Anxiety and Depression, General Angst, Language (let’s be honest, Shane definitely swears a lot)

Word Count: 5373

Thursday, 18 Spring, Year 2 – 3:40 PM

 I hadn’t seen her in days, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d done something wrong.

Stocking those infernal shelves day after day made it hard for us to see each other as it was, even though we’d been dating over half a year by now.

At the end of last summer, she’d approached me shyly and handed me a bouquet and a beer. The beer, I’d come to expect, as she’d began greeting me at the saloon on a nightly basis when I got there at 6, drink in hand, and during the summer, sometimes with a freshly grown hot pepper.

Even after starting my therapy, she was always there with something, whether it was a beer because I’d “earned it” or a sparkling water because I was still trying to get away from my past emotional crutch and she knew that. Hell, she knew that all too well.

But two days ago, she wasn’t there. I was worried so I sent her a letter, and even then, no response. With work, I didn’t have much time to ask around town or visit, so I’d asked Jas and Marnie to tell me if they saw her anywhere, and even then, nothing.

I was becoming increasingly more convinced that I’d upset her somehow. What had I done in the last week to upset her? Had it been my tone when we talked on Saturday? Was it the beer can on the floor when she came to see me at home on Sunday? What WAS it?

I shook my head. Deep breaths, Shane. I channeled my counsellor’s advice. “Don’t panic, just breathe.” I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

“SHANE.” Morris’ voice boomed behind me. Startled, I stood up quickly, can of chili still in hand.

“Yes, sir?” I somehow managed to say without stuttering, despite my nerves still being high from the voice behind me.

“Your shift ends in an hour and a half, and you still have two aisles to stock.” Morris didn’t really sound angry at me, but he wasn’t exactly known for being a pleasant person to work for. There was a reason the girl with the ginger hair at the counter looked like a corpse from dawn until dusk every day.

“Sorry sir, I was taking a quick breather.” I made up the excuse knowing that Morris wouldn’t care whether I was 5 centimeters from a mental breakdown or not. He wouldn’t care what I said.

“Just don’t let it happen again. You still have plenty of work to do.” He smiled at me, and I felt ill.

He turned around quickly at the sound of the doorbells jingling. “Hello, welcome to JojaMart!!”

I rolled my eyes. What, am I not allowed to breathe here anymore?

“Oh! Miss Terra!”

My shoulders shot up from the pouty slumped state they were in upon hearing her name. Terra? What was she doing here? She hates JojaMart almost as much as I do at this point.

I heard a hushed voice to Morris and rapid footsteps away from my direction. I rushed to the edge of the aisle, desperate to see her face, to ask what was wrong, if she was okay. If WE were okay.

Nothing, just the same tired cashier, and no Terra, no Morris.

I looked around a bit, but to no avail. She must have gone to his office to talk with him in private.

What for though? She literally talks shit about him every time we hang out. What would be so important that she’d be willing to talk to Morris PRIVATELY?

With a sigh, knowing that Morris would fire me if I was caught loitering around the aisles, I went back to work.

 Thursday, 18 Spring, Year 2 – 7:20 PM

 Never in my life had getting blackout drunk sounded so appealing as I sat in the corner, completely alone, and with far too many questions spinning around in my head.

Seriously, what was this afternoon all about? Even after changing out of my uniform and clocking out, Morris wouldn’t talk to me, and even if he did, I doubt he would have said anything. Not like he owes me anything, I’m just a pawn to him, and he has always made it clear he doesn’t “care” about us.

I felt my heart sink again as I remembered watching Terra walk away from the store through the glass doors in the rain, wanting desperately to call out to her but feeling completely powerless in the face of my fears and my douche of a boss.

Not even Lewis and Willy’s banter about fishing off the docks when they were young, or Gus’ finest pizza could snap me out of the funk I was in. The only thing I could understand tonight was that Terra blatantly didn’t want to see me today.

I stood up and left the saloon, far earlier than I ever had before. Maybe, just MAYBE, I could run into her, especially if she was trying to avoid me. She knew my schedule well, not like it was difficult to memorize. Wake, eat, work, drink, sleep; rinse and repeat. She knew exactly where I’d be and when, and if I had any chance of finding her, I needed to use that to my advantage.

 I started out toward the forest. Maybe she was fishing by the lake? She had a particular fondness for the dock where we’d first sat down and really talked, and she loved fishing there. Something about a “constant flow of 25-inch-long smallmouth bass.”

Upon finding nothing, I checked my phone. 8 PM. Maybe she was home? It was a longshot, at this hour, but worth a try. She really pushed her body to the limit when it came to sleeping.

I headed north to Vervain Farm, sidestepping some weeds and a fallen tree branch as I headed up the docks. Her farm was very much right in the middle of a number of small rivers, and the numerous “isles” that made up her farm were traversable only by small bridges.

“Terra?” I asked softly, almost as if my voice didn’t really WANT to be heard. Clearing my throat and shaking my head, I called again. “Terra?”

My voice echoed in the wind, as a chilling breeze swept through my tattered jacket and into my bones. No response. I approached her cabin and stood on the doorstep in the rain for what seemed like forever before I finally gathered the courage to actually knock louder than a pathetic tapping.

I heard silence, then a shuffle, and then nothing again. I knocked again, hoping she was there, but all that answered my knock was a muffled “mrow?”

Terra’s cat, Citrus, emerged from the cat door and rubbed up against my leg, before realizing I was soaked and shaking his head indignantly at me.

“Hey boy,” I said under my breath, well aware that it was cold enough to see my breath fogging up the night air. “Have you seen Terra?” I asked, stroking his fur with my cold hands.

He looked up at me, green eyes wide and curious. “Mrow?”

I sat down on the porch beneath the gable, petting Citrus for another few minutes, listening to the rain and his purring, and trying to breathe normally.

Where is she? My mind was going crazy, and I swore I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes.

I grabbed Citrus close and let out a single sob. The cat, more than a little disgruntled by my actions, meowed loudly in surprise and growled at me until I loosened my grip.

“S-sorry.” I stuttered, feeling my jaw tensing up and chattering from the cold. “I’m sorry.” I repeated, scratching the cat behind his ears.

The orange tabby mewled at me once more before reentering the house, and I sighed heavily.

Alone again.

I stood up and shook my head aggressively, feeling the raindrops flying out in all directions from my messy purple hair.

The rain had lightened up, and I knew that this was the only chance I had to get home without receiving another cold shower from mother nature.

As I descended the stairs, I swore I heard a voice inside, but then again, at this point, I was too tired, cold and sad to know if it was merely an auditory hallucination or not.

I fell into bed at Marnie’s place at 9 PM on the dot, and as I did, I tried to empty my mind of all these thoughts. Terra, my insecurities, my loneliness, everything. And as I eventually drifted off the sleep, around 2 in the morning, I dreamed of Terra and I’s first date.

The gridball game with the Tunnelers, the game where I kissed her suddenly out of excitement, and panicked, thinking I’d just ruined my chances with this wonderful woman who had given me hope again. As she kissed me back, I remember feeling everything fading into the shadows. The game’s noise, the crowd’s screams, the tipsy feeling inside my head, everything was gone. Only her and me.

And god, was it wonderful. The last Sunday of Fall, and the last game of the season. We’d won, but I barely even remember that part. I remembered the taste of her lips on mine. The faint scent of beer and fried food as I inhaled deeply, taking it all in.

Moments like that could drive an atheist to Yoba, because in that moment, I had kissed an angel.

On the bus ride home, she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder, hair messy, and a little bit tipsy herself. She was just so beautiful. Even as she drooled a bit on my jacket and made strange noises in her sleep, I just fell harder and harder for this woman every time I took a breath.

“Terra, I love you so much.” I said under my breath. “You give me hope that there is a future for me after all. You make me feel like I actually mean something to someone. You give me a reason to try harder, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

A small snort answered my statement and I felt my face start to hurt from how wide I was smiling. “Terra, I think that I want to marry you someday. No, I know I do. Terra, I want to make me the happiest man alive…god this sounds so cheesy. I’m trying to say that…I love you. And I hope I can make you happy for the rest of my life.”

After the bus stopped in Pelican Town, I woke her and walked her home, thanking her for the wonderful time, and laughing at her jokes and her story about a funny dream she had on the ride home.

Of course, she didn’t know what I’d said, but I did. And those words were tattooed on my heart now. I want to marry her. I really, REALLY do. But I can’t propose without a Mermaid’s Pendant, and lord only knows how the hell you get one of those anymore.

Morris appeared in my dream, sly and shrewd. I knew he knew something, but there was no point in asking what he knew, because he would never tell me so long as he lived and breathed. He owed nothing to a stupid subordinate.

The night was long, and full of miniature dreams and nightmares in which I was alone and drowning in my fears.

God fucking damn it.

 Friday, 19 Spring, Year 2 – 8:20 AM

 A rolling fog had settled over the valley, and the walk to work was much chillier than usual.

The milky white haze was so thick that I could barely to the end of Marnie’s cow paddock. As I continued my walk, I wondered if maybe Terra would answer her phone.

I dialed her number and stared at her contact name as it rang. It read “Brat” with a purple heart emoji. I always wondered if she had me named something in her phone, especially since she was literally the only person in my contacts WITH a nickname.

“Hi this is Terra,” Her voice jolted me out of my daze.

“Terra, oh thank god, I was so worried—”

“Unfortunately, you caught me in the fields, on in the mines, or…whatever. Anyway, I’m not able to talk right now.” I exhaled. God, I was so stupid. Was I so desperate to hear her voice that I didn’t realize I’d gotten her voicemail? It’s not like I hadn’t heard it before.

I hung up. Even if I could competently leave a voicemail without enough “Uh’s” and “Um’s” to outdo Jeff Goldblum, I didn’t know what I’d say to her, much less if she wanted to hear it at all.

I sighed heavily, feeling like all my happiness was draining out of my fingertips into the foggy air.

I clenched my fists, in a vain attempt to stop myself from feeling so rotten. I didn’t have much say right now. After work, I could go to Pierre’s, or sit outside her house until she got home…actually no, the last one would just come across stalker-y. And at this point, the last thing I needed was to drive her further away.

God damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!

I kicked a rock into the mists of oblivion, hearing it splash into the river. I needed to get my dumb ass to work before I lost my job. Not like anyone else in town was hiring, so I’d be fucked if I lost the job.

So, dragging my feet more than I ever have in the past, I dragged my shallow corpse of a body into JojaMart.

 Friday, 19 Spring, Year 2 – 4:40 PM

 10 minutes until my shift ends. I said to myself, feebly attempting to ground myself in reality after the most out-of-it shift I’d ever had, even including all the ones I’d been forced to work while hungover.

The clock’s incessant ticking had me so high strung I was convinced that the next tick I’d hear would make me break the fucking thing over my knee.

A constant reminder of where I was, that ticking. A steady reminder that I’m wasting away stocking canned goods in a dead-end town for a corporate dunghill while the love of my life refuses to speak to me.

My eyes felt hollow, like they weren’t really seeing things, more like they just stared off into the blackness of nothingness and stayed there.

The snapping of Sam’s fingers in my face startled me back into reality. “Earth to Shane, hellooooo.”

“Sam?” I sounded almost drunk in my bewilderment, which wasn’t ideal right now. The last thing I need is for my coworker to think I’m zoning out because I’m drunk off my ass on-shift.

“Yeah, me.” He grinned his borderline obnoxious sunshiny smile. “Your shift ended like, 3 minutes ago. You’re usually out of here in a flash.”

I stared back at the clock I’d been fantasizing about murdering, surprised. He was right somehow.

“You’re one to talk, your shift ends at 4, what the hell are you doing here still?” I retorted, indignant at the younger man’s tone for no good reason.

Walls up.

“I fell asleep in the break room, don’t tell Morris.” He sniggered; way too proud of himself. “You going to the saloon? I’ll come with. I’ve got about twelve games of pool to lose tonight.”

I wasn’t thrilled by this bright and smiley tagalong, but it wasn’t like he was wrong. Where the hell else would I go? Not like anywhere else felt right today.

May as well let myself relapse like the coward I am.

“Sure. Give me a second to get out of this shitty uniform.” I said, disappearing into the break room.

 Friday, 19 Spring, Year 2 – 5:10 PM

 Sam wasn’t a bad guy really, but right now he was the worst guy for me to be around. He was too cheery, and far too talkative.

I thought the clock was annoying, but Sam reminded me far too much that I was a total wet blanket just by breathing with a smile.

“How was work, dude?” My mind didn’t really register the question until I heard the bells jingle as the door shut behind us.

“Uh?” I answered gracefully. “Oh, right. Work. Uh, um.” I stammered. Pathetic, Shane, you seriously suck shit at conversation. Why does anyone bother with you to begin with?

“Yeah, work. Good ol’ Joja.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Long day, huh?” He seemed sympathetic, but to me, that meant pity. And I didn’t need his pity.

“Yeah, sure.” I said.

Walls fortified.

“You okay?”

The fucking worst question of all. In the deluge of questions this kid asked me, that one bothered me most, and for really no good reason.

It made me angry, it made me want to cry, it made me want to scream, and it made me, most of all, just feel empty.

“Not really, Sam. Please stop talking.” Was the politest response I could manage.

Sam raised his finger as though he had something to say, but quickly decided against it.

Good. Please stop pressing me before I throw myself in the river and pack my coat full of stones.

We walked in silence for a while until we were passing the Mullner’s house, when Sam piped up again with a smile. “Hey Shane, I think tonight will help you get your mind off of…whatever’s going on.”

I stared at him, actually stopping in my tracks. Why did this kid sound so fucking condecending? And why did he give two shits about my mental wellbeing?

No one gave a shit about that, except Terra, and now she was gone.

“Why are you acting like you know me?” My voice was steeped in venom, probably more so than I’d intended. “Why do you give a fuck what’s going on with me?”

Sam stopped too, staring at me, worried.

“Stop acting like you understand me. It’s pissing me off.” I felt my face getting hot. It wasn’t anger, it was tears. “Get lost, kid.” I suppressed a sob, hurting my chest and making my eyes burn with tears.

Sam stepped toward me. “Shane, I didn’t mean—”

“SHUT UP!”

I turned around quickly as the tears fell. “Just…please…go away.” My voice choked. “Pl…ease.”

Sam took a deep breath, and then grabbed my arm, dragging me around the corner and through the door of the Stardrop Saloon.

“What the fuck are you--? Get your hands off me! Let me go! Get off!—” I struggled against his grip, but to no avail. I fell to the ground, and Sam dropped me. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.

“Shane?”

Turning around in a daze, I saw Terra. Golden earrings, brown hair tied neatly in a bun, familiar purple sweater, leather boots, and gorgeous blue eyes. My heart stopped for a moment, and then began rushing again as I realized I was still crying, on the floor, and in complete disarray.

“Terra—! I, um, hang on, I, wait, uhhhh…” I panicked and basically spilled out words like a semi-truck carrying nothing but alphabet soup crashed into a wall.

“Shane, what’s…?” Suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh my god, Shane.”

Her arms were around me instantly, her lips on my forehead, and suddenly I couldn’t feel anything. Numbness covered me the instant her hands made contact with my skin, and I couldn’t hear anything.

None of the noise from the tavern, none of the eyes staring, none of the tears on my cheeks, just her arms around me. I felt like I was home again.

I snapped out of it to hear Terra apologizing profusely, on the brink of tears, as I stared into nothing. “I’m so sorry, Shane, I didn’t think about how you’d interpret my actions, oh my god, I’m so sorry…”

“F…for wh…what?” I rasped, throat dry from dehydration. “It’s…my fault. Right?”

She stopped moving, stopping to stare at me. “Wh…what?”

“I fucked up…and…you…you finally realized…that I’m…just a…piece of shit.” I was dizzy, and Terra was growing increasingly more concerned.

“Baby, baby no!” She shouted her pet name for me, turning a few heads from the arcade area. My face was burning. No no no no don’t look at me. I bit my lower lip, suppressing a sharp inhalation that would have certainly made me start hyperventilating.

“Baby I…” Terra stopped and sat back, staring at me. “I was gone because I was…” She paused, pursing her lips.

“I was looking for this.”

She reached into her sweater and revealed a blue conch shell on a leather string.

It was a Mermaid’s Pendant.

Everything went white for a moment. Wait. She wasn’t serious, was she?

Me?

 I stared at her in complete shock, jaw gaping, breathless and completely incapable of saying anything. “Terra, you…”

“Shh.” She put her index finger to my lips and put the necklace around my neck. “Shane. Breathe.”

Right about now I noticed exactly how many people were surrounding us. Almost everyone from town was here. A Friday night at the saloon was busy enough already, but there were some new faces, like Jodi and Caroline, both of which I’d never seen in here before.

Everyone. Sebastian, Abigail, Alex, Willy, even LINUS, was staring down at us, as I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. She’d been planning this for days. Everyone was here. For us. For me.

“I…” I cleared my throat, scrambling to sit up straight, and try to recover whatever dignity was not currently ablaze in the depths of hell. “I…”

Terra looked concerned. Oh my god, she thought I was going to say no.

She’s just as scared as I am about what this means.

“I accept!!” I shouted.

Silence, then eruptions of applause.

Terra tackled me with a hug and began to cry into my chest. And unbeknownst to even myself, so did I. Gus cheered and turned on the jukebox to the oldies channel he always played. Sam smiled down at me, Sebastian congratulated me…Lewis tried talking to me about how to go about arranging a wedding, but I couldn’t hear him.

I was far too busy crying. Someone, no, not just anyone, TERRA, just told me that they want to spend the rest of their life with me. ME!

Part of me wondered if it wasn’t somehow just an elaborate prank, but the tears in her eyes and the pendant around my neck snapped me out of that illusion immediately.

Terra was going to be my wife.

Holy shit.

 After the commotion died down I asked her everything I’d been meaning to ask over a well-deserved beer and basket of chips. “Why did you actively avoid me for the last week?”

“I’m a really bad liar and I know how perceptive you are, and I was really worried you’d find me out. I wanted to invite everyone because they’re all really important to me, but it was hard getting around without running into you.”

She looked incredibly guilty, and I felt my heart tighten at the sad look on her face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I laughed a little. “Just…give a guy a warning…or something.” I took a huge sip of beer. “I mean, I was basically staying up all night thinking you were ghosting me because I left a beer can on the floor when you visited on Sunday.”

“The what?” Her oblivious question made me realize exactly how stuck up in my head I was about the whole thing, of course she hadn’t even noticed.

“Wow.” I exhaled. “I feel…stupid.”

“That makes two of us.” She replied, putting her head gently on my shoulder. “I didn’t even think about how this might affect your anxiety.” She bit her lip. “God, I’m an idiot.” She slumped, seeing her so broken up over my mental state destroyed any lingering doubts I may have had about how genuine she was being with me.

“Terra, baby…I…” I stopped. I was about to tell her that she wouldn’t have HAD to worry if I were normal, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t great at sitting and talking feelings with a borderline stranger, but there was one thing I’d learned in abundance in the short time since I began therapy.

I couldn’t keep blaming myself for everything. I would consume myself and end up even worse off. And it had been a battle to stop, especially considering recent stressors.

“We both messed up, baby.” I answered. “You made a mistake, and I got super worried and convinced myself that you were breaking up with me in a slow and painful way. And worst of all, I was convinced I deserved it.” I paused as Terra looked up at me. “Baby, I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you since that night at the gridball game, but I’m such a goddamn trainwreck that I wanted to get better before I proposed. I…”

“I wanted to be worthy of you.”

Terra looked into my eyes with a lot of confusion and a lot of love.

“That’s when I decided I wanted to marry you, too.” She blushed a deep pink and looked at the floor. “I…heard you saying how much you loved me in my dreams.”

I froze. Wait. Had she also heard the—

“I heard you tell me you wanted to marry me, too.”

I felt my face burning. Fuck. I was hoping she wasn’t going to say that.

“After a few days of thinking about it, I decided to look into how to propose.” She continued, laughing. “I eventually found out, about halfway through winter, that I needed to propose using a Mermaid’s Pendant, which can only be received from a ghost you can find in the RAINY season.” She scoffed. “I was really angry about having to wait, actually.”

Seeing her pout about this was adorable, even though I had no goddamn clue what she was talking about with a “ghost” and the “winter” and “rain.”

“I only got the pendant yesterday, actually. I was on the beach at like 6 PM and I saw the Old Mariner standing on the island across the bridge.”

“It cost me a lot of money, so I spent the rest of the night at the beach, fishing up some big fish to sell to repair the dent in my funds.”

Wait. “How much did it…cost?” I said, concerned.

“It’s…not a big deal now. I got the money back from a good harvest and quality fish.” She smiled a toothy grin. She knew what I was doing. I was fishing for a reason to blame myself, and she put an end to that right quick.

“Hey Shane,” Sam’s voice came from behind me. “Hey dude.”

I turned to face him. “Hey…uh, I’m sorry about earlier.” I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. This kid was just trying to help and I’d just yelled at him and made myself out to be a total ass.

“No, no, I get it, man.” He held up his hands as his two friends ducked out the doors of the saloon. “I would have been really confused and angry too. And I know now that you have a lot of anxiety and…a lot of baggage.” He paused, glancing at me, as if looking for approval. “I shouldn’t have forced you, and I’m sorry too.”

I smiled, and Sam looked at me as though he were witnessing a unicorn cantering through the fields of heaven. I guess it really was true how little I smiled in public, good lord. “I appreciate what you did for me, Sam.” I put my hand out to shake his hand, and he reluctantly accepted. “Thanks.”

“For…wait, what?”

“Thank you for being such a good friend to Terra, and for helping me out, even though I’ve been nothing but unpleasant to you.”

“Uh, no problem, man, I just…I’m glad that it all worked out.”

Sam ducked out, and I felt my nerves cough and sputter out like a dying lawnmower.

“Shane,” Terra said my name and snapped me out of my drowsy stupor. “You should get home. You’ve had a long day.” She smiled. “We can get together and plan the wedding tomorrow. I’m thinking the 22nd would be a good date.”

Wedding. God that word sounded foreign to me.

“Alright,” I sighed. “Let’s blow this joint.”

Waving at Gus and Lewis as I left, Terra and I ventured out into the cold.

As we started toward Marnie’s ranch, I paused.

“Wait, Terra, the 22nd is a Monday.” I felt my heartbeat trying to race, but falling victim to my slightly intoxicated bloodstream. “We can’t possibly get married then, I have…ugh…work.” I grimaced.

“Oh, about that.” Terra laughed. “I may or may not have prematurely gotten the next week of work off for you by talking to Morris.”

The pieces connected suddenly. “Wait, that’s what you were doing?”

“Well, yeah, what, did you think I went in there to blow the bastard? I’d rather die.” I laughed loudly at her crudeness, spooking a rabbit into a bush nearby. “It wasn’t easy. We can do Monday, Tuesday, any day. I just think that Monday is best because then we’ll have a whole week to move you in and get adjusted.”

Moving in? Oh god, that was something that made my heart leap. I’d be living with Terra. Holy shit. Married and living with the love of my life, and by MONDAY? This was clearly all a ridiculous dream.

“Fuck, pinch me.” I said breathily. “I have GOT to be dreaming.”

“Why so?” She laughed. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.” She added coyly.

“Oh shaddup.” I retorted. “I…still can’t believe any of this is real.”

She leaned over and kissed me square on the lips, tilting her head to the right and bending into me with a passion that not even the horniest dream could manifest.

Her tongue danced behind her lips, asking permission, and I opened my mouth, allowing her access, grunting slightly as her hands caressed the back of my head, stroking my hair.

She pulled away, leaving me wanting more. “Are you convinced now?”

I shook my head. “God damn, how did I get so fucking lucky?” Laughing, I caressed her cheek, kissing her forehead. “Seriously, what did I do to deserve you?”

She beamed at me, grabbing my hand and continuing to walk toward Marnie’s. “You went through hell every day, waiting for someone to love you.” She turned back. “It took me…a long time to realize what I felt for you. I realized rather suddenly actually, after…that day.”

She couldn’t meet my eyes for that moment, and I knew that it still haunted her. The blood, the broken glass, the cuts, the beer, everything. I realized in that moment what I would have lost, had I succeeded. I would have missed out on everything good that had ever happened to me.

She interlaced her fingers with mine. “We fit like a pair of puzzle pieces.” She said. “And without you, I don’t feel like I’m complete anymore.”

“Terra, I…I don’t think I knew what “complete” felt like until I heard you talking to me when I was resting at the clinic after…all that. I heard you saying that you might love me, but that being in love scared you. You kissed my cheek, my bandages, and when I officially “woke up”, I just remember feeling…whole.”

Terra blushed. Clearly we both had said things to the other when they were “sleeping” that we were shy about saying to the others’ faces. “Terra, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world, and EASILY the happiest man in Stardew Valley.” I said, turning to her.

I took her hands in mine and kissed her gently, feeling all the worries and fears of the day wash away like the tides rolling out to sea. “I will never stop loving you. And I will do my damnedest to make you the happiest woman alive.”

“I love you.”

[whydontwe-fanfics]

Nobody Gotta Know pt. 2 (Z.H)

Description: Your older brother, Jack, doesn't know about Zach and your secret relationship. {or} Jack catches you and Zach in the act and everything goes downhill from there.

Warning(s): xtreme FLUFF, angst, swearing

Word Count: 4.3k

Part One

---

You wandered around the backyard, your hands in your hoodie pockets as your eyes stay looking at the lit up pool. You were too focused on the shimmering blue water to notice Zach stealthily walking up behind you.

Right as his hands grabbed hold of your hips, a gasp left your throat and you spun in his hands.

"You ass," you slap his chest with the back of your hand and he quietly laughs, his small smile making you blush.

"They're all asleep," he hummed, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hundred percent sure?"

"Hundred and one," he assures and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Good," you say as your hand snakes up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him towards you and letting out a sigh of content as his lips land on yours.

"Wanna go swimming?" He suggests, pulling away slightly.

"Won't that make too much noise?"

"Not if we don't jump," he pulls his hands away from you and begins lifting his shirt off of his body. A small giggle leaves your lips when he tosses his shirt at you and then begins unbuttoning his pants. "I can't be the only one stripping."

"I don't have a bathing suit, Herron," you fold your arms over your chest.

"But you do have on underwear," he then freezes. "Even if you don't, I mean-"

"Perve," you throw his shirt back at him before inevitably pulling your hoodie off slowly. After the sweater was off of your body, you couldn't help but shiver as the cold wind hit your body. "It's cold."

"Heated pool," he mumbled, eyeing you quickly before heading into the water using the stairs. "C'mon."

With a sigh, you pull down your jeans and kick off your slides. You then quickly made your way into the pool, goosebumps rising on your skin at the feeling of the warm water.

"You know, I've never been in this pool before," you mention as he swims around you.

"Really?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"Yup," You turn to face him just as he dunks his head underwater and wraps his arms around your legs. You cover your mouth to stop the shriek that almost made its way out. When he resurfaced, he was still holding you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

Your hands rest on his shoulders as he tilts his head upward, looking at you in the eyes.

"Have I ever told you how much I love being with you?" He lets you slide down just a bit so you'd be within reaching distance if he wanted to kiss you.

"No, but that didn't need to be said," you shrug. "If you didn't know, though, I love being with you, too."

"Not just with you in the relationship," he chuckled. "With you, genuinely and physically. Whether we're hugging or just holding hands, I love it."

Your face scrunches up as you stare down at him.

"Cheesy."

"I know," he grins before tilting his head upwards even more and placing a kiss on your lips for the second time that night.

Your head was bent forward as you closed your eyes, shivers running down your spine at the feeling of Zach's lips against yours. It didn't take long before the kiss intensified, both of your mouths opening to gather more of one another.

You didn't realize that Zach was moving you both in the water until you felt the gravel from the side of the pool underneath you, so you were sat on the edge as Zach stood in the water.

You both tilted your heads to both of your different direction rights, leaning in and grasping more of each other.

Eventually, you both pulled away to get some air, but neither of you could deny the tension in the air as you both quietly panted.

You didn't say it aloud, but you realized to yourself that you and Zach had just shared the longest and most passionate kiss between the two of you.

"Tomorrow, come to my hotel," you mumbled as his forehead leaned against yours. He nodded and kissed the corner of your lips.

"We can spend the whole day together," he smiled, nudging your nose with his.

"I told Jack I'd be with Lilly tomorrow," You leaned back on your hands. "What will the boys say when you're gone all day?"

"I got someone to cover for me," he shrugged.

"What do they think they're covering for?" You cock your head to the side and Zach let out a sigh.

"Eben found out."

You pushed yourself forward and stared at him with wide eyes. "Wha-what?"

"I was showing him a picture on my phone and he accidentally swiped and ended up on a picture of us from a few months ago," Zach elaborated.

"What picture?"

He scratched the side of his jaw before exhaling. "It was when we were in New York and all of our family came. Everybody went to eat but you and I stayed at the hotel and you were asleep on top of me."

"Zach, you know what we said about pictures," you murmured. "They could get out and-"

"We have no pictures of us together, Y/N. No proof that we're together beside these moments together. I just wanted something."

You looked at him in the eyes, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"I get it," you hum. "Sometimes I wish I could put a picture of us as a screensaver on my phone, but I can't."

Zach pats the side of your thigh comfortably. "Eben won't tell Jack. He just wants us to tell everybody the truth soon."

"How soon is 'soon'?"

"I have no idea," Zach shrugs. "But for now, we have tonight and all of tomorrow. What happens after that can't be too bad, right?"

"Right," you respond, although you sound unconvinced yourself. With a quick sigh, you gently push Zach backward and hop into the water. "Enough chit-chat, let's start swimming."

For the next half an hour, you and Zach play around in the pool while trying to be as quiet as possible, muffling your giggles against his shoulder as you both play around.

Eventually, you got tired of the water and climbed out, pulling on your hoodie, but leaving your jeans on the lounge chair while Zach pulled on his sweats but left his shirt off.

You and Zach now reside on one of the pool lounge chairs, your body in between his legs as you lie on top of him. Your head lays in the crook of his neck while one of your hands fiddle with his ID chain. He has one arm wrapped around your waist and the other tracing indescribable patterns on your back.

This went on for about fifteen minutes before an idea popped into your head.

"Sing to me," you sat up on your knees.

"What?"

"Sing to me," you repeated. "C'mon." You stand up and pull him to his feet.

"Why?" He laughed as you took both of his hands into yours.

"I wanna listen to a song, but we can't play music because it'll wake the boys," you twirl yourself in his arms.

"What do you want me to sing?" He twirls you back around.

"Whatever comes to your mind right now," you stare up at him with a smile and he couldn't help but smile back, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Hm," he thought to himself. "Okay, fine. I've got one."

"Really? What is it?" You bounce on your heels.

"I can't remember the beginning for some reason, but here we go... Baby, I'm dancing in the dark With you between my arms Barefoot on the grass Listening to our favorite song When you said you looked a mess I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, Darling, you look perfect tonight," he quietly sang, and your heart fluttered.

You opened your mouth to reply to his choice of a song when you saw the lights flicker on in the kitchen through the see-through glass backdoors.

Your whole body stiffened as your eyes went wide.

"S-somebody," You stuttered, not being able to word what you wanted to say properly.

"Shit," Zach hissed as he grabbed his shoes on the ground.

"Go! Hide in the bushes, or on the side!" You whisper-yell, pushing him away.

"But what about-"

"I can handle it, Zach. If we're caught together, it'll be more suspicious," you rushed out. "Hurry, Go!"

Zach sped to the side of the house and out of your view. You hastily sit back on the chair and make sure Zach's shirt that he had forgotten to take was underneath you.

Your heart sped up when you heard the doors being slid open and you hesitatingly looked up.

"Y/N?" The tired voice of Jack yawned out. "What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep," you lie.

"Why aren't you wearing pants? There are four other boys who live here, Y/N," Jack groans.

"They're all sleeping. I just wanted to go for a swim. I'm done now, anyway," you shrug.

"Okay," he sighs. "Put on your pants and come inside. It's cold."

"Okay," you mumbled, grabbing your jeans and tucking them into your side, but not before hiding Zach's shirt underneath it.

You grabbed your slides and then headed inside after Jack, closing the door behind you.

---

The following day, you sat on the edge of your hotel bed, your foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

Your eyes repeatedly traveled to your phone to keep checking the time.

10:30 ... 10:57 ... 11:12 ... 11:25

Your head whipped up at the sound of the knock on your door, and you didn't hesitate to spring up and answer the door, revealing Zach.

"You said you'd get here at twelve," you smile as he scooped you into his arms and gave you a hug.

"Couldn't wait," he gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Wanted to spend as much time with you before you have to go back home."

You walk back into the room, pulling him with you and shutting the door afterward.

"So, what are we doing on this lovely day?" He releases his hold on your waist and throws himself into the bed.

"I actually have no idea," you climb into bed next to him. "Not much to do around here. Wanna head to the mall?"

"What if someone sees us?"

"We can wear hoodies and sunglasses and be secretive," you smiled, crawling towards the bag on the nightstand and pulling it into your lap.

You pull out two pairs of shaded aviators and two hoodies, one for each of you.

"Here," you pass him the dark blue one, keeping the grey one in your lap.

"Nice," he grinned, immediately pulling off his tee shirt and pulling the hoodie on.

You push yourself off of the bed and unbutton your flannel, revealing the camisole underneath it. You then pull the hoodie over your head and finish the look with the sunglasses. "How do I look?"

"Like Y/N Avery, but with a hoodie and aviators on," he smirks and you hit him with a pillow.

"Seriously. Would you recognize Jack Avery's sister," you roll your eyes at the title.

"No, no I would not," he rose to his feet as well. "Would you realize Zach Herron?" He asked as he pulled the hoodie over his head and slid the glasses onto his face.

"Hmm," you purse your lips and walk towards him. You run a hand through his hair and tuck his ID necklace into his hoodie. "Stop with that smug look on your face."

"What smug look?"

"That one!" You chuckle, resting your hands on either side of his face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he rests his forehead against yours and you roll your eyes with a coy smile on your lips.

"Oh, whatever," you murmur, turning away from him and grabbing your phone from the bed. "Let's head out."

---

"Every time we walk into a store, we look like we're gonna rob the place," you murmur as you and Zach sit at one of the booths in the food court.

You sat beside Zach as he had his arm around your shoulder. Two trays of food were set in front of you as Zach drank his smoothie with his free hand.

"This was your idea, babe," he chuckled, placing his drink down.

"I know, but..." you let out a sigh before pushing the hood off of your head and taking the glasses off of your face. You blink twice at the bright lights that were being uncovered from beneath the shaded lenses.

"What about being caught?" Zach shifted in his seat.

"We're facing the back," you shrug. "We can put them back on when we're done eating. For now," you pull the hood off of his head as well and de-mask him of the aviators.

"Sounds good to me," Zach ran a hand through his hair as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Uh, babe."

"Hmm?"

"Not to kill the nice vibe we've been having all day, but... I've been thinking a lot about what Eben said."

You keep your stare on the food in front of you before picking your head up off of his shoulder.

"About telling Jack and the others?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

You turned your head to face him as you nipped the inside of your cheek. "When do you think we should?"

"What about... what about before you leave?"

Your eyebrows raise at the suggestion.

"That's so soon," you quietly input, bowing your head to look at your lap.

"It's better to get it over with, right?" He uses his forefinger and thumb to take hold of your chin and tilting your head up so you and he were making eye contact again.

"Right," you murmur. "What if they don't like us together?"

"They won't," Zach sighed, facing the truth. "But we just have to show them that we know what we're doing. Okay?"

You nod with the smallest of smiles before he leans in and catches your lips with his. His arm around your shoulder pulls you closer to him and you don't object.

"We probably shouldn't make out in the food court," you pull your lips back and contain your smile. He chuckles and pulls his hand from your face.

"Right."

You and Zach continued your shopping spree, going store to store, hand in hand, both hoods on both heads. You and he had decided that you didn't want to wear the glasses any longer and went on without them.

You both stood by a boutique when the sound of a picture being taken caught your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around, discovering two girls who had their phones directed at you and Zach.

"Zach," you panicked, pulling your hand from his.

"What? What's wrong?" He looked at you with worry.

"We have to go," You began speeding in the opposite direction of the two girls, Zach on your heels.

"What's going on?"

"We've been spotted by two of your fans," you felt like you were going to cry. It would only be a small amount of time before whatever picture taken would spread and catch Jack's eye.

"Shit," Zach hissed, speeding up his steps. "Alright, c'mon, let's get to the car."

You felt close to sick as you both maneuver your way through the crowd. A wave of relief hits when you and Zach are in the parking lot, but it doesn't help with nausea.

"This was a bad idea," you shake your head, trying not to cry. "We should've-should've stayed at the hotel. Everybody is gonna know, I'm so sorry-"

"Hey, hey," Zach cut you short, pulling you into his chest and looking around the both of you to make sure nobody else was there. "Y/N, breath, okay?" He cupped both sides of your jaw.

"But Jack and-"

"They were going to find out eventually, okay?" He kissed your forehead. "Don't worry, alright? What if they hadn't posted those photos yet, huh? Gives us time to head over and tell Jack before the fans start going crazy."

You close your eyes and nod, gulping as your bottom lip quivered. "Okay," your response was breathy. "Okay."

"C'mon," he took your hand into his and lead you both to the black car, one of the two that he shared with the rest of the guys.

You climbed into the passenger seat and pulled off your hoodie, resting a hand on your forehead.

"I think I'm gonna puke," you muttered as he drove the car out of the parking lot.

"Y/N, breathe," he glanced at you with a wary look. "Just don't think abou-" he cut himself short when your phone began to ring.

Your heart dropped at the sight of Jack's picture flashing across your screen.

"I'm actually going to puke," you held a hand up to your mouth.

"Just-just answer him. It might not be about what we think it is," Zach tried to hide his fear but you knew it was there.

"Okay," you whispered, sliding your finger across the screen and brought it up to your ear. "Hey."

"Y/N where are you?" Jack was quick to ask and you make quick eye contact with Zach.

"Driving around L.A, why?"

"Who are you driving with?"

"Lilly," you lie. "Why?"

"Y/N don't lie to me right now." When he said this, you knew he had seen the pictures. "Where the hell are you."

"I'm not lying!" Your voice grows high. "What is wrong with you?"

"Y/N I've seen pictures of you and Zach at the mall, please tell me these are fake or photoshopped or- I don't know."

"Jack," you closed your eyes and tilted your head back.

"Who the fuck are you with, Y/N. Cut the bull shit, I'm not in the mood for games," his voice was full of anger.

You hesitate to respond, feeling a lump in your throat.

"Y/N!" Jack nearly growled.

"Zach... I'm with Zach," you admit, watching as Zach's muscles tense as he keeps his eyes on the road. "It's not a big deal, we're just hanging out."

"Stop lying to me!" Jack yelled. "I've seen the fucking pictures."

"It's not a big deal-"

"So my little sister kissing my bandmate isn't a big deal?"

"What? What are you talking about?" It was then that you remembered the quick kiss shared at the food court. Those girls must've been tailing you longer than you had thought.

"Get to the house right now."

"Jack-"

"Right now, Y/N!"

With that said, he hung up the phone and you felt the tears well up in your eyes. A small sob escaped your mouth, causing Zach's heart to drop. He quickly turned into a fast food parking lot and unbuckled his seat belt, climbing out and making his way to your side of the car.

He opened your door and unbuckled your seat belt as well before slightly bending down and pulling you into his arms.

"It's going to be okay, babe," he tried to calm you down.

"He's going to be so angry with you," You whisper as tears fall from your tear ducts.

"Don't worry about me," he shakes his head and partly pulls away. "Please, don't cry."

"What are we gonna do?" You cried.

"We'll figure it out," he murmurs. "We'll be fine."

"You don't know that," you fiddled with his hoodie strings, heaving a deep sigh.

"Yes, I do," he rubs his hands up and down your arms. "We'll just walk in there strong and all. They can't get between us."

"They can try," you wipe your tears away.

"They won't," Zach frowns. "We can't give up, Y/N."

"I know," you take a breath in. "We won't."

Zach places a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back and closing your door, making his way back to the driver's side.

---

Pulling up to the house felt worse than being on the phone with Jack. Your panic only grew when Jack came storming out of the house.

You slowly climbed out of the car but your actions sped up when Jack went straight for Zach. You didn't know what was happening until the sound of a very hard punch shook you out of your daze.

A small scream left your mouth as Zach fell to the ground, blood already leaking from his nose.

"Jack!" You yelled, running after him and trying to pull him off of Zach, but he only pushed you away and punched your boyfriend once again. "Jack! Stop it!" You grabbed his arm and used all of your strength to rip him off, his body flying off of Zach's. "What the hell is wrong with you?" You shout, kneeling beside Zach and cupping his face in your hands.

Jack walked towards you and grabbed your forearm, pulling you up and away from Zach.

"Why would you do this, Y/N? What were you thinking?" He hissed as you kept your eyes on Zach, who rose to his feet and wiped the blood from his nose away with the back of his sleeve. "Dammit, Y/N, listen to me!"

"You just hit your best friend, Jack! No, I will not listen to you!"

"How long have you been screwing around with my sister behind my back?" Jack accusingly turned to Zach, whose eyes were wide.

"Dude-"

"We were going to tell you," you interfere.

"That didn't answer my question. How long?" He repeats himself.

"A few-a few months," you stutter, wrapping your arms around yourself as Jack's eyes go wide. He lets out a scoff-like breath before shaking his head and walking back into the house, leaving you and Zach outside.

You stayed rooted to your spot in shock for a few moments before walking over to Zach and pulling him into a hug.

This was even worse than what you had predicted.

---

"Keep leaning forward," you murmured, your voice quiet as Zach sits on the toilet seat. A cloth was held over his nose as he clenched the bride of it. "I'm sorry, Zach."

"Don't apologize," he shakes his head. "He was just angry, I get it."

"He shouldn't have hit you," you frowned.

"I've been with his little sister behind his back," he sighs. "I would've been concerned if he didn't punch me."

"I'm gonna go get you some ice," you run your thumb against the corner of his top lip, where a bruise was forming. He winced and you let exhaled before straightening your back and walking out of the bathroom.

You made your way to the kitchen and felt relief that none of the other boys were home. You opened the freezer and wasn't surprised when there was no frozen corn, peas or vegetables in sight. So you went with a Klondike bar.

"So every time you ask to come to L.A, it's for Zach?"

You jolt at the sound of Jack's voice and spin around. He stood in the archway with his arms crossed.

"What?"

"Every time you come here," he took a deep breath. "Did you only come for Zach?"

"No, of course not," you furrow your eyebrows. "Jack, I always come for you."

"And Zach is just an advantage out of it all?" He narrowed his eyes and you gently bite your tongue. "Y/N, you're fifteen years old."

"You had your first girlfriend when you were thirteen,"you roll your eyes.

"Why couldn't you find someone normal?"

"Zach is normal."

"Zach's in an uprising band. Do you know how many girls throw themselves at him a day?"

"That has more to say about yourself than Zach," you scoff. "Zach likes me and I really like him. What's so wrong with that?"

"Why couldn't you choose anybody else?" He groaned.

"Stop making it seem like he's a bad guy," you frown.

"He isn't a bad guy. The whole concept of you two dating is bad," Jack waved his hands around as he spoke. "You are my little sister. Zach is in the band. Do you know how many people are talking about you right now - on fan accounts and such?"

"I really don't care about what they think," You furrow your eyebrows. "You're the one who taught me how to avoid judgment by people who have no idea who I am personally."

"Y/N," he sighed, running a hand down his face.

"We were going to tell you," you admit.

"Does anybody else know?"

"No..."

"Mom's not gonna like this," he states and you push your lips to the side, already knowing that for a fact. "Neither will Sydnie."

"I know."

"Is there any possible way I can persuade you out of this?"

"No, Jack."

"If he breaks your heart, either I'm out of this band or he is."

"Don't say that," you huff. "Seriously. And he won't break my heart."

"I've heard that exact statement come from dozens of girls who've had their hearts broken."

You roll your eyes and shift the ice cream bar that was still in your hands.

"You have to go apologize," you nod to the direction of the bathroom.

"I know," he sighs, turning on his heels.

"Wait," you mumble, handing him the ice cream bar and gesturing to his bruised knuckles.

"Thanks," he muttered, glancing up at you with an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier," you replied as he pulled you into a hug. "Now go say sorry to the boy whose nose you made bleed."

---

Masterlist | Request Here

---

Tag List: @maddie-leighhh @my-otpkilledme @larrystylionsonisbae24-1 @seavveywdw @duh-danii @thefangirlingmaster @prettylittlesheerio @lyssaholic

[thetradeway]

Session 41 17 Apr 2021: Wait, a TRAP door? Ahleqs casts Mage Armour.

Duncan is walking back from the opticians, so we start a little bit late. Ed is also going to be late, but he says to go ahead without him and he’ll catch up.

Mr. Pickles has a gift for Ahleqs (which Joe forgot until this week…)

Should be fun riding through the streets of Waterdeep - until he gets done by animal rights activists.

Matthew reminds us of what Brother Charity and Gideon did at the end of the last session - the buddy cop movie, during which they got some names of some people. (He explains in a very sketched out way until Sophie asks him to clarify a bit further, ‘like I was asleep or something’.) (For those who weren't there at the time, she *was* asleep.)

Mirt, Harper’s quest, Maxeene, talking horse, ride around the city, inn with a glory hole in it, disguised selves, names of a sun elf fellow and a half orc lady. Timothy P. Fuckapple and Thunderbuns, ah yes. (apparently Matthew was going for Danny Dyer, but he’ll take Ross Kemp.)

“That was exhilarating!” Charity says to Gideon as they flee down side alleys.

(Joe shows us an image of Undermountain, the dungeon under the Yawning Portal.)

(holy shit.)

We pick back up at the Dagger. Kessler wanted to ask Shanks about procuring us a book to offer the monks at Candlekeep. (Joe shows Melaina her new weasel…)

Kessler and Ahleqs arrive back at the Dagger, shortly followed by Charity, Carl and Gideon. Kessler points and laughs at Gideon’s disguise.

Tarragon has gone to find Renah and challenge her to an arm wrestle, loser buys drinks. Matthew worries that it might turn into a bar fight. Ahleqs: “It’s all fun and games until someone throws a dwarf.” Tarragon wins 18-21, and asks for a half an ale. “I’m very small and I’m not used to drinking.”

The others are deciding how to contact Shanks about the book. Ahleqs asks at the bar what would be the best way to get in touch. Ria and Jirr are tending bar tonight. Ria isn’t sure who Ahleqs means when he asks for Shanks. She offers to ask the other staff, and has a chat with Jirr.

Jirr can get a message to Shanks for us. Or - do we want to meet her? That might be better. Jirr will organise a meeting in the cellar. This might take a day or so to arrange.

Do we need preparations or supplies for the journey to Candlekeep? (Shopping episode! Somewhere, Travis Willingham sighs.)

We probably need rations. We also need to get passage on a boat - we could ask Surge (Gunna's water genasi friend in the Docks Ward), or Larissa. Either way, to the Docks Ward!

(Charity Prestidigitations Gideon before we leave.)

Kessler debates buying a shield and goes to speak to Filiare before we go, as well. (Scribe’s note: Her AC is already 18.) He will sell her one for 7gp; she accepts, choosing a metal one with a plain front so she can add her own design. She sells her crossbow bolts as well.

Ed joins us and Charity remembers about the mad druid that Tarragon needs to speak to, but that’s not for a few days. We decide to speak to Surge first as he’s slightly less dodgy, and if he’s unavailable or can’t help, then we’ll try Larissa. We’re trying to get passage but also get paid for it, like going to a festival and pretending to be cleaners.

(Duncan gets lost on his way to the kitchen to make coffee, and finds himself in the off license buying beer.)

As we go through the streets toward the docks, a bird lands on Tarragon’s shoulder and gives her a scroll from Amithrel, giving her the name of the druid whose tome may be of use in curing Tansy’s illness. She asks the bird to thank Amithrel for her and it flies off.

Kessler: “I wonder if I could snatch that bird out of the air…”

Duncan OOC: “This whole time I’ve just been imagining you grabbing birds out of the air and eating them.”

There follows a discussion about the diets of goblins, and how much evidence there is to suggest that they really do eat babies.

Melaina makes a Perception check to get us to the Docks ward (I almost wrote Dicks ward by accident lol). We find the temple, and Surge is in the middle of it, feeding sick sailors. He sees us and recognises us, and asks straight away if we’ve seen Gunna.

Melaina, suddenly and excitedly: “Have you seen him? Not that we care about… where… he… is…”

Surge says that he saw him briefly before he left, and that he said something about visiting his father. It could take a few months for him to return.

Melaina asks about passage on a boat. Do we want to pay, or work, Surge asks us? Well, we’ve acquired some skills in recent times. He asks about what sort of skills we have. Fire magic?, Ahleqs suggests. Tends not to be popular on wooden boats.

Kessler can make stuff…? Melaina is an elf, she could make a good lookout? Tarragon is a herbalist, she can make poultices. How many are there of us? Six? Yeah, six. Seven, if you count Brother Charity. (We’ve accepted Carl as one of us.) (Charity looks wounded.)

Ahleqs makes a Persuasion check with Guidance - 25 total.

To Candlekeep, you say? Maybe the return journey as well? Space for seven, we’re looking at a cargo ship. Is there any way Surge can contact us? We’re staying at the Dagger. Surge will ask around and send word.

Brother Charity has some shopping he wants to do. Where would he find adventuring supplies? Market in the Trades Ward. He wants Healer’s kits and scroll scribing kits, that sort of thing. We like to travel in a lump; our lump arrives in the Market.

Between a lucky roll and help from Charismatic Ahleqs, Charity can have 20gp off the asking price of 70, to the shopkeeper’s chagrin.

Tarragon buys some more herbs, as she’s offered her services as a herbalist on whatever ship Surge can get us passage on. Kessler buys some healing potions.

Anyone else want to do some panic buying? Chain mail! A gun! Some big bombs! The Death Star! Nope, that’s it. We head back to the Dagger.

So - rations, and a meeting with Shanks to maybe procure a book. Gideon has a heavy supper and falls asleep in front of the fire. (Tarragon: Five bean chilli from the new vegetarian menu, and a peach liqueur.) As we sit down to eat, Jirr motions to us. We’ve got a guest.

Shanks meets us in the cellar. Can she procure rare and curious books? Ahleqs explains what it is we need - a book that the monks of Candlekeep don’t already have in their collection. What about something unique, like a journal? Are we familiar with Xanathar’s thieves’ guild?

No-one is really sure what it’s real name is. The higher ups in that guild are known as The Hand. Their master of magic is a woman called Emerine (I think?). She’s a powerful wizard, not to be crossed. But she is undertaking research in the sewers, Shanks knows where. She has a something called the Tome of Bindings. Shanks could take us there to get it? She can time it for when the wizard isn’t in.

Would this wizard part with the book, or will we have to nick it? If we time it right, she won’t be there to defend it. But she’ll likely have traps and stuff. Ahleqs asks what do we think the chances are that she has an actual Beholder there? Low, says Shanks, as the guild leader is one and Beholders are notoriously territorial and won’t put up with another close by.

It would be doing Shanks a favour, if we got that book away from her. Can we be ready first thing?

Charity: “All those in favour say Aye.”

All of us except Kessler: “Aye!”

Kessler: “I don’t see why not, I mean I’ve got no objections…”

Shanks tells us it’ll be another trip to the sewer, so get ready.

Tarragon, thoughtfully: “Do you know anyone who sells nose plugs…”

Shanks returns the following morning and leads us into the sewer. We make CON saves against the smell. Only Tarragon fails and is polite enough to lean away rather than puking on Brother Charity, which she feels is very magnanimous of her.

Shanks leads us to a new (to us) part of the sewer, where we haven’t been before. It looks in poor state of repair. She points to a locked trap door. The wizard has been seen going in and out of there. Do we need help picking the lock…?

Melaina: “I think we’ve got this.”

(Wait, a TRAP door? Ahleqs casts Mage Armour.)

Melaina checks for traps and unlocks the door with ease, and after some wrangling, Joe gets a marching order out of us. (A police car goes by in horrible Nottingham.) There’s a small delay while Joe fights his way through all the gubbins I’ve filled roll20 with (SO MANY RED DRAGONS!), and puts our tokens on the board.

Back in the charming sewers again! It’s a nice part, and doesn’t smell. It’s part of the old elven sewer.

Ahead of her Kessler sees a metal door, with a slot into which something presumably fits. She checks for traps - it is not trapped. She goes for a pick, but rolls a 12 so nothing happens. She could try impact engineering… (Is that a fancy-lady way of saying she’s going to twat it?) Melaina elbows her way to the front and does it properly.

(Gideon has had too many meads and has probably fallen asleep - or gone to the kitchen to get sausages, so the DM moves him gently out of the way.)

We are just exploring when Joe tells us to stay where we are - uh oh!

We all make STR saves except Tarragon, who is now glad she was stuck at the back.

They roll so badly that they couldn’t pass if they added all their scores together. They are hit by lightning from the pillars in the room, as well as being blown around by wind.

Kessler shoots at one of the pillars to try and discharge the magic, but is at Disadvantage because of the wind and rolls a 9. It zaps her, and she takes 13 lightning damage.

Melaina has a go but also fails and takes some lightning damage. Joe rolls 4 1s for her damage though, noice.

Ahleqs makes an arcana check to see if he can figure out this magic, but rolls a nat 1. He uses a Sorcery point to re-roll for a 17. It seems to be retaliating when attacked, and there are glyphs on the floor that zap you if you stand on them.

Kessler and Tarragon see that the winds inside the sphere seem to be physically blowing the ammunition off course. Perhaps magic might work better…?

Ahleqs tries an Eldritch Blast, and it hits. Yay! He assumes the foetal position; just as well because he gets hit with lightning.

Tarragon does a Thorn Whip, which also hits. The pillar is starting to look damaged, and she takes 17 lightning damage. Oof! Kessler fires off a Firebolt, as Ahleqs downs a potion. She hits for 3 damage and takes 15 lightning damage. Yikes.

Melaina does a magic arrow at it - or, a spell? Or Charity can do a spell, so Melaina isn’t using up a spell slot?

He does a Divine Eldritch Blast. (A what? He is a Cleric, right? Sophie, OOC: ‘He’s a sneaky bastard is what he is.’) It does 1 damage, which is just enough - the pillar breaks. He does a Cure Wounds for Kessler, and offers the same to Ahleqs.

Melaina tries the door. It is a large, metal double door. She checks it for traps - once she’s found her character sheet again. She sees the telltale signs of trappage! She sleight of hand disarms it with a 27 - “Bazinga.” She then unlocks the door. It swings open to reveal a monster - “Lock it again! Lock it again!”

We roll initiative. DM asks if one of us want to take the Grease Wizard “because I think you’ll need him”. Oh shit. Matthew and Sophie both take him so they can squabble over him.

(Sophie OOC: “What is that thing? Oh, it’s massive and it’s got a big old sword.”)

It moves forward and breathes poison on Kessler, Melaina and Tarragon. Only Melaina makes her save. If only our front-line fighter wasn’t on a boat going to see his mum!

Tarragon rages and does Cure Wounds on herself (but the other way around); Melaina casts Woundbind on Kessler, who went down after the poison breath. (How’s that shield working out?) Melaina bonus-action-disengages and backs up.

Kessler gets to her feet and goes for a Thunder Gauntlet, which misses. She stands her ground.

Ahleqs: "I stand my ground too!" (We all laugh.) He screams (part of his spellcasting ritual), and casts Fireball. It doesn’t bother trying to make the save - ah shit.

Kessler, Tarragon, Ahleqs and Gideon (and Melaina) make perception checks - we all notice that the creature absorbs the fire, and any little dents in the armour repair themselves. Matthew-as-Gideon - “Fire appears to mend it!”

Ahleqs runs away.

Grease wizard doesn’t have Enlarge-Reduce prepared, sadly. He has a go at Enfeebling it instead. He rolls an 18 and it misses.

Oh fuck…

Kessler, right up in melee range: “Run, save yourselves!”

Ahleqs, already halfway out of the room: “Way ahead of you!”

Charity casts ‘a buffing spell’ on himself to get more HP, and then shilleweghilghosllhsoaslkhhah. Carl holds an action, as there’s not much he can do.

It’s the golem’s turn. It tries to squish Kessler, who is standing right in front of it, by bringing its sword down on her noggin. It misses! But dents her new shield. Then it swings an arm, trying to slam her into the wall. That time it hits for 14 damage.

Tarragon goes for an Indiana Jones slide between its legs but fails her Dex check and hits it in the legs. (If Duncan was DM she’d have hit something else.) She tries to batter it with her quarterstaff, but misses.

Melaina hides and shoots, and hits the thing! She rolls badly on her damage, however. (Joe assures us that this fight is winnable; we all make dubious noises.)

Kessler goes for the Thunder Gauntlets and hits it for 11 Thunder damage. She uses Fury of the Small on top for an extra 7 damage. She would like to disengage for a bonus action and split her attack; after a short discussion it’s decided that she can. She wants to move behind it so she makes a DEX check - and passes! Like a greased seal she slides between its legs. She goes for her second attack, with Advantage as she and Tarragon are now flanking it. She hits again for 8 more Thunder damage.

"Are we still in the shit? We kind of are, aren’t we." Ahleqs uses all his remaining Sorcery Points to create a 4th level spell slot before screaming “GO AWAY!” at it and casting Banishment. It fails the save and disappears!

We still need the gem around its neck, which is very much phase 2 of the plan, and Ahleqs will leave that to us.

Kessler: “I would say next time make that your opening gambit?”

Ahleqs, Concentrating: “Look, let’s not waste this minute bickering.”

(DM decides that was inspired so he won’t enforce it now, but next time Ahleqs casts Banishment he will actually have to produce the spell component - something distasteful to the target. Duncan, OOC: "I may go full monkey and fling my poo at it.")

We prepare - moving to flanking positions and rerolling initiative. Tarragon goes bear and waits to re-Rage.

Bear Tarragon and Kessler both hit with their attacks of opportunity as the thing pops back. Brother Charity goes for a whack with Sheldflhjdasdlaflfghhh, and natty 20s it for triple damage - 36 total!

It’s Kessler’s turn. She punches it upside the back of the head for a 19 which misses, then natty 20s for her second hit. Max damage, then she rolls the damage dice again, yeah!

Tarragon does a multi attack and crits with her claws - bloodied nose. Max damage and roll again - she gets max damage on that roll too! She’s so pleased it’s hard to maintain her rage.

Melaina goes for a shot but misses.

Ed has woken up! He is pleased to know that Matthew, about to take Gideon’s turn, was about to Grease something. He asks how this thing feels about fire, and is warned that it loves it. He’s very disappointed until he realises that he can use his new toy.

Wait is this the main big bad, or is this on the way to the big bad?

Sophie, OOC: “We just got into this dungeon, we’re in the foyer.”

He does Phantasmal Killer! The thing makes a WIS save - at Advantage - and fails. Ed, delighted: "It’s timid and scared and frightened." It makes another WIS save on each of its turns, or takes more psychic damage; for now it takes 16.

But…

It’s immune to psychic damage - and being frightened.

That is a poor show, Joe.

Brother Charity is up, and he’s the last one before the golem. Gideon: “We’ll have to do this the old fashioned way Charity, go and stab it with a spear!”

It’s still flanked, so Brother Charity rolls with Advantage and hits it with a 26 for 12 bludgeoning damage with Shillgslahkfksjddkghglhlhllbblhh. It’s looking tatty now, yeah!

It doesn’t get its breath weapon back, phew. It attacks the bear, at Disadvantage (because it is not attacking Kessler). It hits, but she takes half damage.

It’s Coward Time! He doesn’t need to move closer so he casts Shenanigans at level 2. He expends a spell slot to regain a sorcery point. Now he casts Shatter at level 3, using the sorcery point to use Careful Spell and steer it around his friends.

It does a CON save (“I imagine it’s okay at those”) which it has Advantage on, but it’s a construct so it has Disadvantage as per the spell. They cancel each other out so it makes a straight roll, and gets a 16 which succeeds. It takes half damage though. Having covered his eyes as he cast the spell Ahleqs shouts, “Did I get it?”

We all want Carl to get the how-de-do-dis. He does Gauntlets of Helm but misses even with Advantage.

Kessler goes for the Thunder Gauntlets and hits with her second attack, for 7 thunder damage. It’s at Disadvantage to attack anyone but her again.

Tarragon does a multi attack and hits with both - and gets the how-de-do-dis! She rips it apart with her bear claws, with a horrible screeching noise of claws on metal.

We get the crystal key!

(After the dust settles, Joe reminds us of when we fought the Flesh Ripper and Melaina very cleverly hid herself on the other side of a doorway through which the Flesh Ripper was too big to fit. We look again at the map we’re on now to see that we came through a corridor that would be too big for the golem… We are so stupid.)

The crystal fits in the slot in the door, which leads us down another corridor into a study. Melaina rolls to pick the lock with a 27. We get the book, yeah!

(Next week we pick up with our old campaign, for which I DM. I will try to add an entry here, but it won’t have the same level of detail!)

[idealisticrealism]

Blindspot 3x01 recap

Okay so honestly, until the episode actually aired I wasn’t sure this recap would happen. This hiatus has been all too easy for me, because the finale-- or, specifically, the time jump paired with the realisation that Weller really was going to have a kid-- really made me question whether this was still the show I fell in love with, and if I really wanted to dedicate any more of my time to it. Plus, since I avoid spoilers, there were some serious concerns-- for example, whether Weller even knew why Jane left-- that I had, that I didn’t have the answers to yet.

Which meant that basically I went into this episode not really expecting to feel particularly positive about it. But instead-- like with the second half of S2 after that rather unpleasant start-- damn Gero managed to pull me back in, as he somehow always does.  

So here goes. Recap time. But fair warning: this review is about my personal feelings towards the show, and therefore you may not agree with what you read. Feel free to come and talk to me about it anyway.

Honestly I (like everyone else) knew a wedding was coming, but unlike everyone else I wasn’t all that interested to see it. I mean, I’m happy for them and all, but I’m more interested in seeing the being-married part than the actual getting married. But then the flowers, and the music, and the family looking so beautiful, and Patterson OFFICIATING, and Hirst and Stuart being there (side note: I am only now recognising Stuart as an actor from Gero’s old show the LA Complex, along with about six other actors who have been on this show over the years lol). But anyway, considering my biggest problem with S2 was the baby fiasco, I was expecting to feel the same nausea when seeing the baby onscreen as when I thought of it at any other time (it’s literally one of my least fave tropes, guys, so I’m sorry but I will always hate the existence of the baby), but it was fairly easy to just ignore it. I was bummed not to see Sarah or Sawyer, who would literally have never missed this wedding and tbh would have been a waaaaaaaay better inclusion in S2 and 3 than the unwanted offspring, but whatever. #Foreverbitter

That said, seeing the team laughing and dancing and having an amazing time was just the best. And of course the Jeller lovey-doveyness was so great, and maaaann I really wish we could have heard those speeches. Reade and Tasha dancing was a little bit borderline for me-- they’re so cute and I love them as best friends but PLEASE GERO JUST LET THEM BE BEST FRIENDS. DON’T PUT THEM TOGETHER. PLEASE DON’T.

Ngl I don't at all like that Jeller moved to Colorado. Big nope for me, though I understand why it happened, and god I did love the scene with the fam helping them pack and then tough-as-nails Tasha crying??? Let me die. But I also identify with her the most rn, bc she GETS it. With Jeller gone, their family will never be the same. The roadtrip montage was cute, and the carrying over the threshold???? Ughhhhh save me. I love that they took on the project of the house, the two of them making the perfect team (was there a baby in this montage? Nope, not that I saw. No babies here. Maybe just Allie’s new puppy that they look after from time to time. Yeah, let’s go with that. Bethany is a puppy they babysit and no one can force me to view it as anything else).

So as much as I’m enjoying this montage of domestic bliss, I’m kinda ready for it to end because GUYS PLEASE I’M TOO USED TO ANGST AND SLOW BURN, YOU CAN’T OVERLOAD ME WITH FLUFF LIKE THIS.  And then phew it ends, leaving us in the new Jeller residence with Weller just returning from napping in the laundry beside Bethany’s basket because she still howls when she’s left alone and so he had to pet her until she fell asleep. Awwwww, so nice of these two to look after Allie’s puppy while she works nightshift. I love that Jane cooked dinner-- I bet Weller’s been teaching her and lots of sweet and sexy kitchen times have ensued. Jane gushes about the puppy’s cuteness and Weller suggests maybe they should get one of their own. Good thing they’re talking about a puppy and not a child because wow “one of our own” sure had a very exclusionary implication, like Jane was not at all connected to any other puppies/babies that might exist. But anyway I gotta move on before the world I’ve carefully constructed in this Matrix starts glitching. Saved by the bell, or rather the phone-- it’s Keaton with a warning that their lives are in danger, and here’s yet another topic that threatens to glitch my reality. Keaton tortured Jane for THREE MONTHS. Brutally and without true remorse. He should be persona non grata with literally everyone (the team and the fans alike), but instead the writers have turned him into the team’s new buddy. This is the biggest issue I’ve had with the show, I think-- not Keaton specifically, but what he represents. Because honestly when I think about certain plot points in theory, I feel very strongly and very negatively about them; but when the show goes “no it’s fine everything’s actually great” it somehow sucks me in and I just go ‘oh okay cool everything is great, that’s good then’’, and I just?? For example, I really enjoyed watching Keaton in the finale, and then I thought about it after the episode ad was like ‘wait no I hate him, how did I forget I hate him?’ Like I stg Gero is a wizard, and like anything truly magic related, that’s both a good and a bad thing. But anyway rn I’m appreciative of Keaton because he just helped save Jane and Weller’s lives. So I guess he gets points for that, though technically Jane has saved his life a couple of times already now. Jeller proceed to beat the crap out of their attackers, and aaahhhh, isn’t this so much more THEM than painting walls and picking out cushions? Their Colorado life was a nice little holiday but it wasn’t them.  Naturally the gunshots wake little puppy Bethany who is now barking in distress, but they check on her and she’s fine. Keaton rocks up to explain that some Sandstorm member has put out a hit on Jane for $10M, and now no one can stop a shit-ton of mercenaries from coming after Jane. Keaton and Jane are in agreement about putting Jane into a version of WitSec-- hopefully with much more comfortable lodgings than the last time she was put up by the CIA. (#Yesstillbitter).  Weller tries to reject the idea, then decides he’s coming too, bc “You’re my wife” ughhhhhh, but Jane can’t let him walk away from the rest of his life. She knows what that’s like, after all, though lbr giving up her life as Remi was the best thing she ever did. Unfortunately for Weller, he has a very hardheaded wife and he sleeps very heavily when he’s cuddling a fluffy puppy, so Jane bails in the middle of the night, and nope nope nope  I never needed to see her crying as she pulled off her wedding ring, thanks Satan (I mean Gero). But lbr, Weller is Jane’s everything, and she would do anything-- including break her own heart-- to keep him safe. Oh, Jane, you noble idiot.  At least this whole scene has allayed one of my concerns going into this season-- Weller definitely knows why Jane had to go, so he knows it was done out of love, and not for the lack of it.  I still think she could have kept the ring, but I suppose by leaving it she was telling him that she was okay, that she was leaving of her own accord and hadn’t been kidnapped or murdered or anything.

Have I mentioned lately how much I really hate time-jumps??? After the finale, I desperately hoped that they had been married the majority of that two year gap and that their separation was only like three or so months. I even mostly-completed a oneshot postfinale fic along those lines, but then we found out about the 18 month thing and I was like “well screw you too, show” (#yepdefinitelybitter) and abandoned the story entirely. Plus, it’s been otherwise proved non-canon now, so that was rather a waste of time. But anyway, it’s now 18 months after Jane disappeared (undoubtedly aided by Keaton) and you just know the whole family will have been scattered to the winds. Another reason to hate time jumps. Speaking of the team, Hirst shows up at Weller’s apartment-- which he somehow still has; renting it out, I guess?? But damn he’s clearly richer than I thought he was. He’s about to sell it though bc he’s spending all his time and money searching for Jane, just as he has for the last 18 months. And on one hand, I can totally be like “awww he loves her so much” but on the other hand I want to be like “wtf you sadistic writers, you’re literally going to rip apart a couple who loves each other for A YEAR AND A HALF, which is a FREAKING LONG TIME (seriously where were you 1.5yrs ago? Think about that and how much of forever ago it was) and then also literally have the love of Weller’s life disappear into thin air, when he had already spent 25 years of his life searching for the last person he loved who disappeared, and OH YEAH, WHO TURNED OUT TO HAVE BEEN DEAD THE WHOLE TIME???” Legit, if you actually take two seconds to think about it, this entire plotline is freaking awful and upsetting and yet the show will literally brush it off like it’s nothing, or merely a tiny insignificant blip in their lives. Just watch. And so again, this is one of those moments where Gero bedazzles us into not being upset by things which very much should upset us. But ANYWAY, Hirst is there because the team has been kidnapped, and I use the word ‘team’ lightly here, because they literally haven't seen each other in like a year because everything fell apart after Jeller abandoned them to go puppysit in Colorado. Anyhow, a mysterious box with Jane’s name on it (or her maiden name at least, no one can convince me that the woman for whom Weller is her home wouldn’t have taken his name and the belonging that went with it) was left in Reade’s apartment, likely because he’s the only one left in NYC because all the others bailed. Seriously I feel like this team’s breaking apart has given ME abandonment issues, so I have no idea how they’re all managing. But anyway the other nifty thing about the box is that it has coordinates on it, very possibly leading to Jane’s location. Congrats, Weller, looks like you don’t have to sell your apartment after all. And you totally have all the info you need to go find Jane, plus an excellent excuse, given that only she can open the box and help them save their friends (who they completely ditched two years ago). Fun times.

Jump to Nepal, and the scene from the finale. Now we know for sure that the hug was because Jane had never wanted to leave him, which is nice. Also that whoever left the box (lbr we all already know it’s Roman) literally made it so the two of them HAD to solve this together. Looks like someone ships his his sister and brother in law lol…  Aaaand okay now Jane is glowing. She admits that it must have happened when she was in an accident some months ago that had her in and out of consciousness for days, and wow how must that feel for Weller? Hearing that she literally almost died months ago and he would never have known about it? Dammit Jane, I know you suffered without him too and that you were doing it for ‘good’ reasons, but I still think you were wrong to do it. If anyone has a time machine up their sleeve, please donate it to these guys so they can go back and make better choices.

But all realistic feelings aside, the pair are straight back into tattoo solving mode (admit it guys, you’ve missed this) and quickly figure out that the first clue is a reference to the place that Weller proposed to Jane-- St Mark’s Square in Venice. Which on one hand is ugh so sweet and romantic but on the other is… kinda unoriginal? Lol. But regardless I need to hear more about his proposal. How long were they in Venice? How long had they been together? Did he intend to propose the whole time or did it just happen? Why did they holiday in Venice as opposed to other locations? Tell me EVERYTHING, GERO. But anyway Jane’s like ‘It’s happening all over again’ and it’s easy to assume she’s unhappy about that, but then again, maybe she’s actually not? Technically working with the team on the tattoos was the best time of her life (with some exceptions here and there). Weller offers for her to stay out of it if she wants to-- which is big of you, Weller, it really is. I mean we all know you're desperately hoping she comes with you, but then again you want her to be safe, so… this must be conflicting lol. But of course Jane is down to rescue their best friends (again, friends that they abandoned #irrationallybitter), and lbr is probably super sick of climbing that damn cliff, PLUS can’t face leaving her hubby a second time, so together they set off to Venice. Yay!

Weller has taken some full-body shots of the new tatts (I feel like that had to be slightly awkward for both of them) and sends them through to the lab, where they are received by Stuart (onya for moving up in the world, buddy), Hirst, and… RICH DOT FREAKIN COM. I mean, we’ve all known for a while that he was returning, and suspected long before that, but honestly this is the moment that makes the episode for me. My fave is back and is making jokes about nudes, and all is right with the world.  Jane is like ‘wtf’, and so Weller gives her a rundown on all she missed-- namely, that her entire ‘family’ has become estranged-- Reade is working in a position that tbh feels above his ability and experience level, give that his predecessors are the superhuman Mayfair and the wonderboy Weller; Tasha the CIA-hater is now working for the man who tortured Jane; Patterson has literally moved as far across the country as she can, to do work as far from their FBI work as possible. See what happens when parents abandon their children, Jane?? Everything falls apart, so you better go fix it. Also, two things: first, I wanna know all about Rich’s dealings with the FBI in the last two years. Give me a spin off just about that, please. Secondly, did Rich and Patterson try to find Jane after she disappeared and how did they feel about their (apparent) lack of success?  But anyway ugh literally every line of Rich’s is pure gold. I love that he’s staying in the same safe-house she did?? Keeping it in the family lol.  And then ugh for all his jokes about the nudes etc, you can tell he’s legitimately concerned that they’re about to walk into a trap. Oh my baby loves and misses his friends and wants them back in one piece and I juST LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Meanwhile, in the fun bunker, Reade and Zapata wake up after being drugged, and while he’s all business, she’s like “it’s good to see you, even if it takes being kidnapped for it to happen” and we discover that they haven't spoken at all in the year since Zapata went to the CIA. Dammit Jeller, see what you did??? Everything is broken!!!  And now a long-haired Patterson is herded into their cell, and is understandably all ‘wtf’ about it. Well, at least they’re all in the same room again, right?

Seeing Jeller in Venice is weird. I walked right there in the spot where they're walking, many times. I saw everything they’re seeing now. And ugh Jane says it seems like forever ago that they were last here, whereas for Weller it feels like it just happened. Which subtly demonstrates how they’re no longer in sync, and then ugh Weller tells her that this was the first place he came to after she disappeared, going straight to the place that only they knew about, hoping that she was waiting for him. But she wasn’t, and ugh you can tell how much that hurt him, realising that she was never going to come. How long did he wait for her before he realised that?? Ugh. But I appreciate that she immediately stops to apologise and try to explain herself, including making it clear that her love for him was the driving factor behind everything she did. The choice of language by the writers is clever, though, because we (and Weller) hear her say ‘loved’ and neither of us know for sure if that love is still present tense or not. Which of course it is, but still, the suspense… But ugh poor Weller. He’s still so hurt. Jane can you just give him another hug please? For longer this time? Like, say, forever?  

Also sidebar: I’m holidaying in Vanuatu atm, and there’s an old guy swimming in the pool that I’m sitting beside, and he looked up at me as I was writing that last sentence and at first I thought maybe it’s because he’s a man and I’m female in a bikini, but then he goes (in a cute, accented voice) “Don’t work so hard. You’re on holiday! You should be relaxing!” hahaha. Don’t worry, buddy, I’ve been lazing by this pool for hours now, and I’m currently writing about some of my favourite fake humans. I’m all good.

Meanwhile back in the Blindspot world, Jeller find a case on the roof that has her tattoo on the side, and while Weller is all ‘wait for the bombsquad!!’ Jane ignores him and immediately opens it. Ah, Weller, did you miss this? I mean it’s just like old times.  Inside the case there’s a phone, and Jane calls the number, and Roman answers almost too eagerly. He’s clearly pleased to be interacting with them both, and proud of himself for his genius plan for ‘tormenting’ them (while also bringing them back together, freeing Jane from the hit on her, and giving him an excuse to interact with them whenever he wants). Aw, my psychopathic lil boy just misses his family. Honestly it sounds like he’s gone through a fair bit of trouble to get to the guy who holds the hit out on Jane and give them a way to take him down… a way that involves kinda almost killing Jane but eh, could be worse? And then ooooh they realise from the bells that he’s right there in the square too, and omg as Jane is asking him how they get their friends back (answer: apparently they don’t) she’s spinning around looking for him, and right behind her is a walkway with a snack bar on one side of it, and man I have such clear memories of walking along that walkway to our hotel or stopping into that snack bar for gelati. Ugh, I miss Venice. And then he says her name again (dude it’s Jane WELLER, not Doe) and she spots him and takes off after him and Weller suddenly panics because he doesn’t know where she is (ugh my poor boy) but luckily he manages to take the exact right turn to find them (do you know how easy it is to get turned around in Venice?????  He’d have never found them) and he jumps onto Roman’s getaway boat which is badass, and after what seems like several minutes of an unpleasant upper-body workout he manages to pull himself up on the boat and attack Roman. Meanwhile Jane, who got left behind earlier, has managed to just about catch up to them despite having commandeered what appears to be the Italian version of a motor-pontoon.  Also Roman manages to keep his sunnies on throughout their fight which is pretty damn impressive considering that Weller has bodyslammed him a couple of times as well as punching him full on in the face more than once. But eh. Weller does manage to dislodge Roman's jacket as he gets literally kicked off the boat, though. Good thing Captain Jane and her trusty vessel aren't far behind, and pick him up. I like that she called him Weller; that’s right Jane, just because it’s your name now too doesn’t mean you can’t still call him that. Oooooh but rather than being grateful for the rescue, Weller is too busy being upset with Jane for ditching him, which he’s understandably just a tad sensitive about these days. Looks like these guys have still got a little bit to go in terms of getting their groove back. And while Jane is lamenting Roman’s escape, Weller shows her the phone from the pocket of Roman’s jacket, his voice all proud. Yeah, son, you did good.

Back at the lab, Stuart is still being antagonized by Rich, who I have to say pulls off those flowered shirts better than I would have believed possible. Though lbr, I gave up on trying not to be inexplicably attracted to Rich a long time ago. While they’re cracking the encrypted phone, Jeller go ahead with Roman’s plan to get rid of Jane’s bounty. Not that the munchkin is happy about it, of course, but Jane is determined to have her life back-- lbr, after getting to see Weller again after all this time, there’d be no way she could ever let him go again. While Weller’s super against the death-mimicking drug, it gets support from Stuart and Rich, the former in simply confirming that it does what Roman says it does, and the latter detailing his own uses for it which include faked-death border crossings and, of course, ‘some sex stuff’. Not sure I wanna hear the sex stories, but the border crossings one sure has me intrigued. The guys do bring up one catch: if she doesn’t have the antidote within 90 mins, she’ll actually die.  Weller is NOT down with that, but before he can even get past the opening statement of his list of all the reasons why this is a Bad Idea, Jane stabs herself in the leg with the needle. His face is the most hilarious thing, like ‘Aaaaand she did the thing. Of course she did the thing. Why do I even ever try to talk her out of the thing, she always just does it anyway.’ lol. But let’s not forget there, he could literally grab the antidote right out of that case and stab her with it right now, completely counteracting the drug’s effects and preventing the plan from being able to go ahead. But she begged him to do it for her-- for them-- and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Especially if it gives him the love of his life back. And come on, it’s not a true Jeller moment until one of them does something the other tells them not to, nearly dies, and is saved by the other, so…

In the fun bunker, the (now loosely defined) team is trying to figure out where they are (no clue), and why they were taken, and Reade immediately assumes it’s something to do with Zapata’s work at the CIA, and the two of them are immediately at each other’s throats about it before Patterson plays mediator, trying to get everyone to focus. On one hand I agree with Reade, bc the CIA is pretty shady and I don’t trust them, but Zapata’s probably right when she says that it must be about their time in the FBI since all three of them are here. However some Spanish-accented military dudes appear a moment later and tell them to break into a fancy safe or die, and hmmmm that is not quite what I expected. While Patterson assesses the crackability of the safe (fairly easy apparently, and dude how could I ever forget how much I love Patterson) Reade gets his wet-blanket on, and starts preaching about how they shouldn’t open it bc it’s a government safe and might have dangerous secrets inside etc, whereas Zapata is all “pshh, that’s a problem for another day. Today’s problem is not dying” which I fully support. And then they’re at it again (and not ‘at it’ in the sexy way, which in this moment would be uncomfortable for all kinds of reasons) but in the squabbly bickery way, but Patterson interrupts with some much needed truth bombs: Reade is mad at Zapata for leaving, Zapata’s mad at him for freezing her out after she left, and the team fell apart after Jeller left and they’re all still trying to deal with that loss. And ughhh everyone missed each other and they’re all unhappy in their separate lives and clearly the solution here is for everyone to come back to the team and stay together forever and never let Gero break them up ever again ugh. But anyhow, like all Patterson rants, this one results in everyone being like ‘sorry mom what do we need to do’ and ugh I’ve missed themmmmmm

Back in Venice, Weller is rolling a duffel bag with his estranged wife’s death-adjacent body inside. Act natural, Weller, because this would be a really awkward time to get stopped by the cops. Also sidenote, he’s rolling that bag like it doesn’t weigh much at all, which I'm going to pretend is just because he’s jacked and not because there’s actually nothing in the bag that they filmed with lol. Anyhow, the bag is now up on the altar in a church filled with bad guys, and time is running out before Jane needs the antidote. Of course the bounty guy is late. Thanks for my blood pressure issues, Blindspot. Also another sidenote, but the guy who greets him is totally a silver fox. Too bad he’s soon to be either arrested or dead. Finally his boss arrives-- he got caught up watching a glassblower, which tbh I completely understand, bc that kind of thing is awesome-- and then lolllll he listens with a stethoscope for like 2 seconds and then does a blood pressure and then declares Jane dead?? Um, no. As someone who has certified the deaths of many people in the last three years, and also interacted with a lot of death-adjacent people, let me tell you that a) a blood pressure is useless, b) he would need to listen for at LEAST two minutes with the steth, and c) there are several other simple checks he should have done that totally would have given Jane away.  But whatevs, his lack of any medical understanding totally works in our favour.  Weller is all “cool I love that she’s dead and that I’m getting all the moneys for it, hey can I have a sec with the body please?” but nope, the dude has his cronies ready to take her to the in-house crematorium (wow, talk about a one-stop shop) and Weller’s al ‘coolcoolcool’ *punches the dudes out and stabs Jane’s body right through the bag before being pulled away and having his ass handed to him*. And okay Jane would not have woken up instantly like that but DAMN if it doesn't look cool with her slowly emerging from the bag like an avenging angel (cool parallel with the pilot, of course) and then she’s all ‘how dare u hurt my man’, leading to a shot like in those cartoons where two characters are brawling inside a closed room or building and all you see is like the door bending outwards and clouds of dust puffing up and windows rattling etc, and then BAM BABY, JELLER IS BACK AND KICKING BUTT and also looking like they’re both a little turned on by it which is kind of awkward but at the same time I fully support it and Idk there’s just a lot of emotions going on rn

Rich excitedly confirms that Roman’s plan actually worked and Jane is now free, and ugh I like to think that it’s not just because he can’t believe it worked but more that he’s just really happy for them bc he ships them so much and it also means that they’re going to be coming home and basically I just  want the whole gang back together ugh. That might be a little difficult though, as Rich informs them of the not-so-good good news-- Roman sold the other three into slavery, but thankfully he’s freaking awesome (and knows it) because he’s managed to figure out where they were taken. Lol at Weller's “Ugh he’s worse than Patterson” hahahaha. Ugh I just LOVE THESE GUYS. And so the others are apparently being held by the Venezuelan government, and Rich tells Jeller where, but they can’t have any official help (Oh Stuart: “shouldn't we just call the president or something?” my sweet summer child) and so Keaton is there to hook them up with some of his contacts and goddammit why is hating him so damn hard. And awww I love that lil baby Stuart is getting to play with the big kids these days, and awww Hirst is determined to get their ‘friends’ back (not their ‘agents’ or their ‘team’) and ugh this FAMILYYYY. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the original family of five has now been joined by the cool wine aunt, the awkward and often annoying but also kinda useful uncle, the wacky flamboyant cousin, and the shy young nerd cousin now added into the mix.

In the fun bunker, Patterson is casually cracking the safe while snacking on her MRE, while Reade whines about his own food and Zapata messes with him for entertainment. Ah, good times. Then Patterson opens the safe-- literally the others seem to be barely there for anything other than moral support-- and they realise that  the safe contains a government computer, probably with a bunch of dangerous secrets on it. Uh-oh. Before they can argue more about the merits of dying for the cause, though, the baddies arrive. They want Patterson to decrypt the computer which is gonna take a hella long time. Awww ‘we paid for the best computer specialist in the FBI’, and ughhh she really is. And then it turns out that Reade and Zapata are literally just there as incentive for her to get crackin’ or they’ll be killed. Eeeep. But our Patty Pat is a genius, and the baddies made the epic mistake of providing sustenance in the form of MREs. Basically if they use the hot packets from the food to turn the computer into a flashbang, they can distract the baddies long enough  to overpower them and escape. Ugh I’m so proud of my lil baby genius. And she makes Reade apologise to the food for badmouthing it hahaha. Man I have missed this lil team so much!!

Up in the sky, Jeller are rushing to save their buddies, but also having The Talk-- aka the ‘what are we now?’ talk, bc lbr Jane so desperately wants their life together back, both as a married couple and as kickass FBI agents, but she doesn’t know if she has the right to have it back or if it's even what he wants, and then he’s all ‘yep let’s be married again we can just sweep this past 18 months under the rug please I’m good with that let’s just do that’ and ugh Jane admits that leaving him and their life was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but-- and man does he feel the ‘but’-- she really found herself after she left him. Oh man, what a kick in the guts. I totally get what she’s saying-- it’s not that she doesn’t want to be with him, or that she can only truly be herself without him, it’s that the puppy-sitting life in backwater Colorado is just not for her (Well, duh). She did it once to make him happy, but she can’t go back to it again or she’ll go stir-crazy. Well, good thing these new tattoos have given them both the perfect excuse to go back to their lives of kicking ass in NYC! Poor Weller though, he doesn’t understand yet, and the way his voice gets a little choked up just kills me. Oh Weller, just because she discovered who she is as a person without you (bearing in mind that pretty much her entire life that she can remember, you’ve been there), doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you with all her heart!

Now Jeller are at the compound, about to search every building individually when the others save them a bunch of time by causing a hell of a ruckus (exploding computers, gunfire, all-round hell breaking loose-- you know, the usual) and so Jeller have to adjust their plans. In a big, kick-ass way. I love the three making their big escape and then seeing the tank a roll up and aim towards them and they’re all ‘shit alright you got us geez we surrender’ and then BAM, the tank destroys the bad guys’ vehicles and probably everyone’s eardrums as well. I just love the wtf moment that these three must have when Weller suddenly pops up out of the tank-- dad’s here guys! Time to go! And then they’re inside and mom is driving and they all probably think that they’re hallucinating from something in the Mexican Style chicken stew and ughhhh they must be so relieved and Jane literally drives over a car bc ain't nothing getting in the way of getting her family to safety. Also lol Patterson must have been raking it in with the app designing because she’s all ‘I gotta buy me one of these’ haha. I’d love to see her cruising around NYC in one hahaha. And then ugh Jeller are all in sync again , taking out the baddies following them and the team is half-confused, half-happy and they have so many questions and then Reade’s “We got time, this tank is slow as hell’ lolllll. Well he’s not wrong…. wonder how long it took for things to get awkward??

Aaaand the team is safely back at the NYO, and Jane is in the scanner again, and Keaton is there again for whatever reason-- oh, because he wants the CIA to take the tattoo cases, while Hirst is all ‘bish please” in her excellent southern accent. So lemme guess, this is about to be a joint task force… and yep, Reade is all ‘this is the most sensible option’ like he totally doesn’t just want Zapata back. Haha yeah Keaton, you get me on this. It’s nice to see Reade stepping up and going head to head with the big kids, though I still don’t think he’s ready to be in this position (Are we forgetting the whole Jones thing and the drug binge??). But whatevs. Reade goes to tell the team about the joint task force and they’re like yeah duh, we’re all already in’. Well, except Patterson, who is playing a little hard to get. Maybe she’s still struggling to deal with all the Sandstorm trauma? And then omg “Rich is gonna brief us in Stuart’s lab” was the perfect sentence to say right then to convince her to stay haha. Well played, Reade. Patterson is not happy at all about Rich being involved, though Reade defends him which feels kinda weird but I also like it. I wanna hear more about their interactions. Again, spin-off, anyone?? Weller is all ‘oh god please where is the briefing just give us the briefing’ so after a lil more Patterson/Rich bickering (ah how I’ve missed that), Stuart tells them what they already know-- lots of tattoos to crack, so they better get…. Cracking (*insert finger guns here*). Patterson is now all in, refusing to leave this to Rich and Stuart (“No offense Stuart” hahahaha), and Jane is in too, despite Hirst offering for her to be free if she wants. Aww, Hirst. You are a sweetie pie. And then Rich: “Backstreets back alright! Six best friends and Stuart!” And UGH YES. Give me all the Rich, and all the Patterson and the Stuart and the ughhhh all of it. I do love that all joking aside, Rich does very genuinely tell Jane it's nice to see her again. He loves his Jane and he would do anything for her ugh

Oooh Jeller in their old apartment, and he’s all unsure whether she really wants to be there with him and she makes it clear that there’s nowhere else she wants to be, and yaaaas my boy acknowledges that the move to Colorado really didn’t fit her and that she’d given up a lot of her own happiness and personal meaning just to make him happy. So now they just need to strike a balance, which is all she wants-- to be there with him and be happy and in luuuurve while also kicking butt and saving people.  And then ugh he pulls her ring out of his pocket and he’s been carrying it EVERY DAY since she left and he rushes to tell her that she doesn’t have to put it back on until she’s ready and ugh she takes it and kisses him and then lord save me from how husky her voice goes when she tells him she’s missed him so much and ughhhhh he’s missed her too and ugh my babies are about to have reunion sex on multiple surfaces in the house and I’m so happy for them. Damn Gero yet again you have managed to make the thought of 18 awful months completely disappear in the face of this excellence, and it’s all too easy to just let you make me forget, and ugh I want to stay upset about it but I just can’t. Damn it you crafty wizard, how have you gotten me so under your spell….

Lol Aunty Hirst checking in with Reade, seeing if he’s okay with all his fam coming back, but also warning him (and us) that none of these people are the same as they were two years ago. And to prove that point, uncle Keaton and Zapata are having their own, much shadier  little conference about one of the tattoos, one that clearly points to something related to either them or the CIA in general, but it’s something they’re both very familiar with and won’t let the others find out about. Oooh, secrets. Speaking of secrets, Rich and Patterson have apparently been interacting regularly over the last two years??? And before anyone goes there, NO, I  I don’t think their relationship is at all romantic or sexual. I think they’ve been business partners of a sort (probably with Boston as well, since he and Patterson kinda became buds) and I also think that Patterson has been secretly helping Rich help the FBI with their cases. But again, I want to hear ALL about whatever they’ve been up to bc ugh I love these two and their dynamic though I also kinda wanna give Rich a hug and tell Patterson to be nicer to her weirdo cousin haha. Oh wait, you thought we were done with the secrets???? Nope, Jane is looking unhappy and  hiding a bunch of passports (probably given to her by Keaton) away the moment Weller leaves, and he steps outside their (apparently-renovated) building and immediately encounters Roman, who basically blackmails him to help him with tattoo-related stuff or he’ll tell Jane about ‘what happened in Berlin’. Weller is agrees to help immediately, which kinda makes it seem like whatever happened in Berlin was really, really bad. And again NO IT WAS NOT SOMETHING ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL. Geez, people. Neither Jane nor Weller would have slept with anyone else during their separation. To think so would be to have no understanding of either of the characters, or their character growth. Far more likely Weller did something that would be considered illegal or amoral, like killing someone, or something. Personally I think he and Roman encountered each other in Berlin and had an altercation wherein Weller injured and very nearly killed Roman, and Roman only survived by pure luck? That feels like a thing he’d want to keep from Jane, that he nearly killed her only family? Plus then he would kind of ‘owe’ Roman as well,. But idk, maybe it was something even shadier. Guess we’ll find out….

And so okay, I admit it. You've won, Gero. You’ve done a ton of things that have upset me or that I object to on multiple levels, but try as I might I can’t escape from your web. Looks like I’m stuck with this show, which means you guys are stuck with me and my recaps...

[myinspirationisgone]

1-99

Thanks so much for all the entertainment cutie 💜💙1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?Hmm I think it's pretty equal like a perfect combination of both. I don't like my cereal to be soggy or drown in milk but I also don't like it when it's "too hard" 😂 I like the right amount of crunch though 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?I love it, I really do. Those first few moments of being outside are super refreshing and awakening but after a while of being outside, well my face starts to numb so I don't even feel  the wind anymore hahahaha3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?I can only come up with 2 rn. I've used like tickets from the grocery store, even toilet paper 😂 oh wait I even once used a plastic ruler 4: how do you take your coffee/tea?I like my coffee with milk and 1 sugar cube, my tea either without sugar or 1 sugar cube but that depends on what kind of tea it is. I just don't like it too sweet but I also don't like too bitter so then I'll use 1 cube 🙂 as for the coffee though, I rarely drink regular like I prefer something mocha ish or coconut/bounty from a really good place in Leuven 5: are you self-conscious of your smile?Oh for sure, a little too much probably. I just think it looks weird or ugly. Also because I don't like my teeth, a few years back it was so intense I'd do everything to avoid smiling while showing my teeth. It was ridiculous. I did get over that in the sense that I don't pay attention to it anymore like I'm trying to show my teeth but I do still hate it 6: do you keep plants?Fake ones, orchids and we used to have cacti as well. We don't really do real plants anymore because we forget to water them and then it's just a sad waste. But I do love the fake ones a lot. They look real, brighten up the place and so on 🌵7: do you name your plants?I don't think I ever did 🤔8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?Writing, definitely writing. I've always loved it, the paper doesn't judge yet you get to out what you feel and putting it into words, the mess of thoughts, can really straighten things out. I've been writing ever since I was around 14 so for about 6 years now. I don't do it as much as I used to but I still hold it dear ✒9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?Damn right I do!!! I sing and hum whenever I can, like no matter what I'm doing. Goes from cleaning to working for class to walking outside. At home they tell me to shut up though, since apparently my singing sounds like a cat dying ☺ luckily I still have the shower 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?I sleep on my back, side and stomach actually. It just really depends what I'm feeling that evening. Sometimes I can't fall asleep in a certain position and other days I can. It's weird really but I think my all time fav is like half stomach/half back. Also perfectly comfortable for the boobs.... Tmi sorry 11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?Oh shit I don't know actually 🤔 hmmm probably how I got the nickname Nuno since it's like something only my friends know of and my man 12: what’s your favorite planet?I actually don't know that much about the planets. But mercury looks beautiful imo so imma go for that one 13: what’s something that made you smile today?I don't think I've smiled today 😂 waaaait no I did, when you sent me that you asked questions and then that you look forward to reading them oh wait a few things you said today made me smile actually 💕14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?It would look modern but cozy and the old touch of it would be respected. There would be fake plants and carpets. Many pictures and art work up against the wall too. The kitchen would have a major rack of spices and herbs. Oh and a balcony with lights 🙂15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!This is a dope one, the skin peeling off feet was pretty cool too though but I chose.....You become taller in Space. Another change to the human body in micro-gravity is that spine straightens out, as gravity is not pushing you down. In fact you can be up to as much as 5cm taller in the Space Station!!!16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?Definitely the pasta Arrabiata, the spice is just mmm 😩17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?I actually already have died my hair in colors I really wanted it to be. I've had red and blonde hair. For now I'm content with my own color but I might definitely change it up again at some point18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.I've done so many dumb and funny things 😂 I am pretty sure the dumbest thing I've done that is always brought up is when me and my friends went on a trip for like a few days and I was drunk during the day, it was hot and we had tequila and what not so everything like worked a lot faster and heavier. But my friends had been flirting with some dudes there so I thought it was good to start cleaning our apartment so they could invite them over hahahaha I was a mess and I was vacuuming the couch that was covered in popcorn from the night before and it was just yeah, I still get laughed at for it 😂19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?I've tried several times to keep an actual journal but for some reason it never really worked so I gave up on it 20: what’s your favorite eye color?Green, it's so special and mesmerizing. I've actually never seen the color irl cause it seems pretty rare and I also don't know many people but I just know and from what I've seen on pictures, it's the most perfect to me 😍21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.It's like an eastpack lookalike for 10 euros, dark brown. I used it for everything. School, vacations, 1 day trips, festivals ... Honestly the quality was so bomb, actually still is cause I bought it a 2nd time 🙂 anyway, it ended up having holes at the bottom of the bag, it was ripping for real. The front pocket turned into a mess of melted throat tablets cause I put it against the heating next to me in class. Never opened it again. There were earphones in that and for some reason a spoon too 😂 I've been careful with it, thrown with it. Everything 22: are you a morning person?I wish I was, like I really wish I could get out of bed easily and start my day but instead I either don't wake up or I do as a zombie and need a lot of snooze moments 23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?Watch tv series and movies, no doubt about it. It's my way of escaping life and I love it a lot 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?Yes there is, you 🙂25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?I don't think I've ever broken into a place. Only an abandoned castle but it doesn't have doors so like..... But I've also had to climb through a window at home cause I forgot my key and no one was home so but does that even count idk26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?Rn my black vans but I've only had them for over half a year now so it doesn't really count. However my first pair of vans ever when I was 12 something I wore with everything. They were my all time go to, super comfy and easy to put on. I wore them for years like at some point the side was coming loose and you vould see my socks like with both shoes even and I still wore them 😂 it was horrible, I was attached to them and couldn't let go. My mom had suggested throwing them away a couple of times but I refused. She eventually took matters into her own hands and threw them away. I fished them back and I still have them somewhere.....27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?Vanilla mint or peppermint, either really 28: sunrise or sunset?I think both have their own charms really. I can't choose like the sunrise is the start of the day, early in the morning when the world is just waking up while a sunset is when everyone is coming alive. Both colors are vibrant, light up the soul 🌄🌅29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?I don't really know actually. I think it has to be when a friend of mine talks about how much he loves his gf, he absolutely adores her and like it's as if he's in heaven when he talks about her30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?Yes, many times actually 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.Oh my... I love socks. I have so many different socks and it's just yes. I love weird socks, I have socks with a cactus on it but also with the brightest colors possible, dots all over or flowers. I had a period of time where I would wear 2 different socks 😂 I'm all about fluffy socks too to wear at home. I sleep with socks when my feet feel like ice cubes and I can't warm them up but halfway through the night I'll get crazy annoyed and take them off. White socks are weird and boring. They make me think of white dads wearing sandals..... 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.Have I ever been awake even after 3 with friends hahahahah oh wait I know. We were all asleep but I woke up once and found myself in like my own drool for some reason and I went like "oh fuck" so I moved my ass and made it seem like it wasn't from me just in case anyone would see it 😳33: what’s your fave pastry?Hmmm I love so many tbh. I think one of my favs is the one with frangipane in the middle like that shit is to die for. If they have it, guaranteed I'll pick that one 🤤34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?I actually didn't have a stuffed animal, at least my fav wasn't one. I carried around a pillow case. My mom used to work at night and I couldn't fall asleep so my dad took my mom's used pillow case and put me to sleep with it. I never let it go again. It was white with blue stripes and I still have it. As for a stuffed animal, I did have one actually, called Stippel. A ladybug hahaha. I might still have it somewhere35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?I do like those but never use them, I only use really simple and cheap pens because I don't write much anymore 36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?Hmm maybe A Day to Remember. Nothing too cheery but powerful or Papa Roach, same thing37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?I like keeping it clean but rarely do so actually. Laziness gets the best of me 🙄38: tell us about your pet peeves!I think people desperately fishing for compliments is one and another is people making comments about another person's appearance. In the sense that it's often rude and with disregard of their feelings or the possible effects of it. I have more I think but these 2 come to mind right away 39: what color do you wear the most?Grey/black, I do try to wear more color since I've started to like that more and appreciate it too. However my closet is still mostly dark 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?I have a pair of earrings, cherries. My brother got them for me when I was younger, thought they looked cute and chose them for me. If I remember it right he even paid for it with the money he got for like birthdays etc so I cherish them dearly 41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?That has to be "My favorite mistake", it's one of the last ones I remember reading. It's a really nice love story and also has a lot to do with letting your walls down and letting someone special in 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!I do actually, it's in Leuven. It's super tiny but it has like fake plants all over it and the front is entirely made of glass. There's a little bar and people can use iPads there. They have the best coffee I ever had tbh. Like so many special kinds too. They also have fresh smoothies and juices, along with a variety of tea43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?My mom hahahaha 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?I actually don't remember a moment like that, things have been too much lately. Even in my sleep I haven't felt at peace 45: do you trust your instincts a lot?I never do actually or at least not a lot. I always think I'm wrong about everything and jusy have very little faith in myself and my abilities46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.I clogged the toilet, it was a shitty situation. I need to go to hell I swear 😂😂😂47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?Lobster and goose liver, both include torture so I'm against it heavily. Have never and will never eat it 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?Probably the dark and being abandoned so yes both are still the same hahaha 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?I do like it actually and there's something very classy about records, I just love it. Hope to own one myself one day, a recordplayer. The last one I bought was for my mom actually, of Oscar and the wolf50: what’s an odd thing you collect?Screenshots ☺ hahahaha no idk I collected Little Petshop animals as a kid, Me to You bears and I still collect gems so 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?Robin Schulz & Richard Judge - Show me love 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?Oh the couple one where the guy looks at the 2nd girl and then the uh Joe Biden ones too idk many really 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?I've unfortunately never watched any of those but they are all on my list to watch actually, all classics and I love those 54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?My mom's yesterday after leaving my dog at the vet.. She teared up badly55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?I don't think I've ever done something truly dramatic to prove a point really 🤔 I don't recall anything at least56: what are some things you find endearing in people?- An amazing sense of humor- Listening skills- Care for animals- Adventure oriented- Respecting, being real- Honesty- ... 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?Hahahahaha this song always gets to me and does make me dramatically reenact the lyrics.  I once sang this one with friends and we filmed it, tried to make our own music video on it. It was a flop for sure but we had the best time58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?Jolien is the wine mom, also because she has a glass of wine often and I'm definitely the vodka aunt, it's me 😇 59: what’s your favorite myth?"According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves." - Plato 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?I love poetry, I've been quite busy with it myself at some point. I think Shakespeare's sonnets are some of my favs along With Edgar Allan Poe's. Both are true geniuses 61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?I don't know if I've ever given a stupid gift, not to brag but I always go for something personal. Pick up on the things people mention and get them something like that so they're never really disappointed and also don't consider their gifts stupid. As for the stupidest I've ever received, I have no idea again. I'd say something like underwear but I actually love getting that so 🤷‍♀️ hahahaha 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?I don't actually 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?My music I don't have organized, unless it's like a file on my laptop but my books are definitely all nicely put on their shelve and in a way that it goes from like the biggest book to the smallest 😂 so I'm not that strict but I also don't like for them to be in any other order than that so 64: what color is the sky where you are right now?Dark dark daaaaark blue. It's almost midnight so65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?No one actually, I'm fine on my own and don't feel the need to hang out with anyone whatsoever66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?Pretty simple, faded pink with white or either bright/dark red with white. I think those are beautiful colors67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?I love it even though it also scares me. It feels idk empty but like a peaceful kind, like the world has stopped spinning for a bit and you can really take a deep breath 68: what’s winter like where you live?It snows for like 3 days, the whole country is in panic. The ER is flooded, car accidents everywhere. The trains stop working and the busses don't show up. The rest is rain and cold 😂69: what are your favorite board games?Hmm monopoly, "mens erger je niet" (sorry don't know the English translation) and yahtzee 70: have you ever used a ouija board?No never and even though I'm curious, I'm also way too scared to try it because I believe in ghosts/spirits so much71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?Something forest fruit ish, it's perfect really. But I love many kinds. Citrus and red fruits, apple/cinnamon, earl grey, ...72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?I definitely have to note things down but even that I often forget 😂 my organizing skills are uh not so present 73: what are some of your worst habits?Acting very childish is the worst one for sure. Aside from that leaving things messy and procrastinating are my other worst ones. Trying to work on all, bit by bit but old and bad habits die hard 😕74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns./ these are weird questions75: tell us about your pets!Vinkie: he's a bird that fell out of the nest into our garden but with the cats living here he would've quickly died so we took him in and took care of him, fed him and he's been with us for over 5 years now. Singing to us 🙂Whisper: he's an agapornis, mini parrot. He's something else. He makes a loooot of noise so his name is quite ironic. He has a big ass cage where he flies and climbs around in. Whenever there's music on he will whistle along. He jumps up when we walk by too fast but when the cat is sitting next to his cage he'll try to grab their tails 😂 same for the dogs.....Chanel: she's a rescue dog from Greece. She came to us as a foster but we all, my brother mostly, got attached to her so we decided to keep her. She's really smart, she knows how to open doors and even flip the keys. She follows her nose wherever it takes her, even if that means jumping over a 1m50 gate and take herself for a walk. We run after her nearly daily but she's a sweetheart. She adores to cuddle and is extremely soft. She's also made of elastic and has a crazy flexibilityIdéfix: my little man. Tossed in a dumpster in a plastic bag, comes from Spain. He's a real cutie, will do whatever to be able to be close to me and lie on my lap. He's also a little bastard that knows exactly how to jump on the table, dressoir, chairs and garden table. He snores and sighs like the cutest. He loves fruit and even pickles Sky: she's a cane corso, big girl. But a real sweety too. She loves cuddles and if she could then she would get on my lap as well which she actually does. She uses her size to her advantage to sit on top of Idéfix to get his spot. She drools like crazy when waiting for her food. She adores snow and waterAtalo: the boss at home. He's Idéfix's best friend. He's a very loyal dog, sometimes stubborn asf though. He is very gentle and will always take a treat with his tongue and not his teeth. He watches over his pack like a real guard dog and when crying he will wipe the tears away. He comes from Greece Lucky: we took her home with us when we went on a trip to Greece. She was only 2 weeks old and we bottle fed her. She's a real badass. She will smack me to let me know she needs food and she yells to get inside or go outside. She like sleeping under blankets close to whoever she's sharing the bed withJoy: she's a bully, she will slap the others when they walk by and she bites everyone who pets her but asks to be pet. She's a little fatty and looks really funny when she runs. Occasionaly she gets on my lap for cuddlesKyoko: I can carry her around like a baby and she will attack when I try to put her down cause she doesn't want that. She's really sweet and tries to cuddle with the dogs when they're near her. She does kinda live at the back of the house cause the rest is too busy for her 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?I guess summarizing but I wanted to take a break so I guess I don't have to do anything rn and can answer these questions to keep myself entertained and distracted 77: pink or yellow lemonade?Yellow well or orange 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?Fanclub, they're fucking adorable and clumsy. I get why some might get annoyed by the little guys but I mean come on, they're just animated movie characters like the fuss was a bit too extreme 79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?The person I love most has done many cute things for me. Took a picture of 2 flowers that reminded him of us. But he also writes stories, one in particular about Poppy and Wormy which warmed my heart. His entire presence is the cutest thing ever to me 🍅80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?They're dark brown, light green and cream color. I chose all because of their earthly tones and idk I like having warm, calming tones. Green also used to be my absolute fav color 81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of./ again really odd and I don't even remember their eyes..... Woops 82: are/were you good in school?I used to be in elementary, then started slacking once high school started. Got better again, started slacking again. Graduated high school, barely. Then dropped out of uni and trying to make it in college rn so we'll see how "good" I am once the exams have passed83: what’s some of your favorite album art?/84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?I'm not planning on anything, even though I'm always thinking of it because of the love I have for tattoos but rn idk, I need to be more sure before I can say I have an actual idea. I want it to be meaningful but also not mainstream85: do you read comics? what are your faves?I don't hahaha, I'd love to one day though 86: do you like concept albums? which ones?I'm pretty sure idek what those are. Lemme google real quick, ok do I don't know any but the idea seems really cool to me 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?Every single Disney classic obviously. But also uhm 🤔 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?Is Banksy a movement? 🤔 cause then yes, aside from that I really have no idea how to interpret this question so please bare with my stupidity 89: are you close to your parents?I am really close with my mom, a lot more distant with my dad but it's okay90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.Venice; it's so dreamy there. It's almost unreal like the lives are so different there. The streets are made out of water most of the time, everything goes by boat or on foot. It's so beautiful like the buildings are really something else, incredible architecture. Very colorful and the little gardens here and there brighten it up. But also the squares are super cozy, benches and trees everywhere, surrounded by houses. When I went there it was raining so everyone was walking around with all different kinds of umbrellas, in the small streets there was the occasional bump and hair drag. I loved the small stores, they sell beautiful masks there that made me dream of a masked ball. And the food, my god the food 😩91: where do you plan on traveling this year?Nowhere unfortunately hahaha but it's okay, have many more years to come so I can wait 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?When I was little I didn't want aaaaaany cheese on my pasta and at this point in my life I prefer to drown my pasta in it. Just the way it melts ugh fuck it's perfect 🍝🧀93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?Loose hair, sometimes a ponytail or a bun 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?My mom, the 17th of December 😍🎉🎈95: what are your plans for this weekend?Studying my ass off for the upcoming exams that I'm extremely anxious about but oh well, can't escape it.... Unfortunately 🙄96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?The last update I procrastinated for nearly 3 months.... So you tell me HAHAHAHA I know it takes hours and usually when I'm on my laptop, I really need it right then and there so it sucks and then I forget. The update took 4 hours so, you get it 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?Myer Briggs type: INFPZodiac sign: Aquarius Hogwarts house: I like to believe I'm Gryffindor 98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?I can't remember the last time I went hiking, I think it's been almost 2 years, yes something like that. When I went to Italy in 201699: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.- Tell me you love me by Demi Lovato- I'll be good by Jaymes Young - Love the way you lie by Rihanna & Eminem- OK by Robin Schulz & James Blunt- Praying by Kesha- High hopes by Kodaline.... I love you 💙

[colorfultrichild-blog]

Ironman 70.3 Florida Race Report April 9, 2017 Swim(1.2 miles)- 36:13   Bike(56 miles)- 2:45:48   Run(13.1 miles)- 1:48:38 Total- 5:15:44   11th 25-29 F

Oh boy. Not gonna enjoy writing this one. Hold on to your butts, because I'm about to get reeeaaalll whiney.

Alrighty! So this was my 2nd year participating in ol' Florida 70.3. Why did I decide to come back to this wretchedly hot and kind of annoying course (M shaped swim in small lake and massive hills on 3 loop run)? Shit, I don't know. I guess because it's at the very beginning of the season and I'm impatient/stupid! Plus, I actually did pretty well last year, so I had high hopes---which were crushed into smithereens around mile 25 of the bike... But let's start at the beginning!

Unlike last year, my friends and I decided driving 7 hours the day before the race then driving the same 7 hours back home immediately after the race, wasn't the ideal way to do this. So, we decided to drive down that Friday so we could take our time Saturday getting to transition and checking everything in. The ride down flew by, especially since I didn't have to drive…I hate driving…and we got to our Air Bnb around 9 o'clock, I believe. My car mates, Michelle the Incredible and Sondra the Magnificent, are the coolest people ever and after driving for 7 hours to get to our house, drove an extra 2 hours to go pick up our other housemate/ teammate/ friend flying in from Arizona at the Tampa airport. While they were gone I got good and creeped out being in a big house alone and locked myself in my bedroom until I eventually fell asleep. Fun!

The next morning my awesomely badass coach, Carrie, arrived and she and I headed to transition to check in and get our lil' prerace bike and run in. I had been having issues with my right hip and left shin leading up to the race, so I was anxious to see how things felt. Lots of run focus and some fast run races had left some spots a little ouchier than I had liked, but things felt ok during our little shake out. I was ready to get this thing done and see what I could do. Carrie and I had set some pretty big goals for this race. I was aiming for a 3 minute swim PR, a 4 minute bike PR, and a 6 minute run PR….spoiler alert….I met none of those goals on race day. HA! Moving on!

After we got all checked in we headed over to Bethany's (ATC founder/ amazing person and athlete!) parent's house right outside of Haines City for a big pasta dinner and some chill time. We scarfed down food, chatted about race day, then headed home for an early bed time. I was so excited to get things going!

RACE DAY: Woke up to my usual 3:30 AM race alarm, ready to get on it. I wasn't feeling crazy nervous, but I really couldn't stop thinking about my big goals. I really really wanted to have a good day. I was actually able to eat a whole bagel! I usually only manage about a 1/4 before I give up. My early morning tumtum normally consists of nausea and discomfort, but I actually felt fine. We headed down to transition nice and early and got there around 4:50 AM. Getting all my stuff set up was way less stressful than last year, so I was straight chillin’ and taking my time. This was my first year as an All World Athlete so I was soooo stoked about the rad bike rack location. It really is WAY better. Last year my transition rack was half way through the horseshoe shaped parking lot…so pretty much in the shittiest spot. This year I was right up close to bike out and in!

You guys know how transition goes so let's just skip to the part where I get all super-hero-wet-suited-up in my Orca Alpha and hop in the water for the start!

SWIM: As I mentioned before, this swim is ridiculous. It's shaped like a squared off "M", so it has 6 TURNS. I consider myself a "strong" swimmer so I wasn't super nervous for the swim especially since I had done it before. Things started off like normal with the washing machine of arms and legs and jostling for open water. I decided to settle in and let some of the other gals go on and blow it out, hoping I'd catch them later on. Side note: if you're looking for good open water goggles - the Orca Killa 180 goggles are the shiiiiiiit! Sighting has never been easier. For real. Alright, end side note: By the 3rd turn I had caught a few of them, but I started noticing someone touching my toes every few strokes. Someone was drafting off of me, which was totally fine until she decided to pass me at the 5th turn by cutting closer to the buoy and literally punching me in the face in the process. I was super annoyed! Number 1-because she just took it easy in my bubbles for the last 20 minutes and decided to thank me with a smack to the mouth. And number 2- that was smart of her (dammit) to draft and I've always considered it, but never managed to find the right person to pace with/I'm a control freak and what if they start going off course??….so, yeah, that was annoying too. I took a classy moment to stick my head out of the water and yell, "what the f*ck, lady?!" Yes, I know that was useless and she probably didn't hear me, but I was mad OK? My lip got a little swollen for a while from where she hit me and I was wondering if I had a busted lip. Luckily, there was no blood, because that lake is not the cleanest thing I've seen and the words "flesh eating bacteria" kept running through my crazy brain…anyway… I felt like my pace was just fine. I wasn't pushing extra hard because people kept telling me that I wasn't supposed to get super winded during Half Ironmans, because pacing or whatever. Well, I under paced and ended up doing a 2 minute slower swim than last year. I came out of the water, checked my watch and immediately got a little bummed and extra stressed. One goal missed…2 more to try and attain.

BIKE: Transition went just fine. Got my wetsuit off after some time stuck on my watch, then grabbed all my stuff and ran out. Hopped on and got down to business. Now…I've had lots of issues on the bike the last year or so. My lower back sucks…all the time…but especially on my bike. It has a tendency to tighten up and scream with pain after a while- and after getting re-fit on my bike, I’m still trying to figure it out. I had only done 2 long rides before this race and my back had felt fine. Well…it didn't feel fine this day. After about 20-25 miles I started feeling it. My lower back was tightening and my quads were joining in on the party. My goal had been the usual 80% of FTP for power. I kept checking my watch because things felt so hard and I had only been holding 50-60% this whole time- not just when my back tightened up…the whole time! And it felt SO HARD. I didn't understand and I definitely wasn't happy about it. I kept trying to make myself feel better about it by telling myself it was ok, because my run was way stronger than last year. It's cool, I got this. Well, you can only believe that for so long…that's when I started getting caught by more gals in my age group. At one point I re-caught one of them and as I was coming around her on the left…she literally spits a big blob and hits me on the leg…like who does that?? Who spits to the left? People pass on the left, ya ingrate! Anyway…she caught right back up after a few miles and left my ass. Not the best thing for my mental game when everything already felt like it was falling apart. THAT. Mental game. I definitely need to work on that. This race really proved that your mind really is a huge part of endurance racing. My mind went…and my body followed. The rest of the bike consisted of me huffing and puffing, praying for hills so I could get out of aero, getting left in the dust by my age group, and holding back tears as I watched another goal slip away. I rolled into transition (after only getting one foot out of my shoe soooo still had the other one on!) with a time 1 minute slower than last year. I know I know! That's not a whole lot slower and it's technically not slow…but it sure as hell wasn't the 4 minute PR I was hoping for. I was bummed, but hopeful that my run still had a chance.

RUN: Made my way out of transition after taking that other cycling shoe off and replacing it with my Saucony’s. My legs felt a little wobbly, like usual off of the bike, but the main thing was my quads. Holy crap, my quads were so mad at me. I felt reasonably ok on the run, though, and at the 1st mile I realized my pace was actually great! I was holding 10 seconds faster than my goal and it really didn't feel hard. My spirit was getting a little boost and I just kept trucking along. Now this run course is pure evil, in my opinion. 3 loops (which I hate) and 2 massive hills right smack in the middle of each one (which I extra hate). Those hills are cruel! The first loop, the hills went by fast and even though my quads were screaming, I was able to hold my pace. I was taking in water and gatorade at every aid station and trying to stay cool. It was heating up and I wasn't very acclimated to heat yet. Atlanta had only gotten up to the low 70's by then, so 80-85 felt really freakin' hot!

Heeere comes the whining again. Mile 5 comes around, my pace is slowing, but I'm trying to hold it together. Mile 7 hits and I'm freakin' miserable. I mean begging for the finish line kind of miserable. My legs had lost it. They felt like they literally had nothing left. Out of nowhere, I went from holding a great pace to getting slower each mile. I refused to walk, though. F*ck walking. That means it takes longer to get to the finish line and stop moving! I wasn't holding my goal pace anymore, but I was still going so that was good enough for me. My amazing friends, Michelle and Sondra, were dressed as cows and screaming their heads off when I made that final turn into the finishing chute. No matter how miserable I am, I've always been able to pick up the pace for the last 2 miles of any race I've done. My desire to be done can take over and push my little leggies a bit harder. I sprinted into the finish line and immediately started crying. Now I want to say that I was crying because I was proud for even finishing after such a not fun day….but that's not why I was crying. I was beyond disappointed. I had been dreaming of a sub 5 hour Half Ironman all winter and instead finished with an extra 2 minutes added to my 5:13 from last year. I was 2 minutes slower and finished 3 places further away from the podium than last year. I had gone from 8th in my AG to 11th, after a year of hard training and sacrifices for said training...and I felt so overwhelmed with crappyness.

This race was a true eye opener for me. I kind of lost sight of what I love most about triathlon and started putting all this pressure on myself to do well. Since my last season was pretty dang good, I felt very much like I had to top it. Of course, I still want to top it…who doesn't love a PR, right? But I also want to HAVE FUN. I want to smile and laugh and scream for my friends while racing. I want to set big goals and I want to meet those big goals, but I want to enjoy doing it. I want to be proud of any finish line I cross no matter the time or if I got a podium and to just have a good damn time. I love this sport so so so much and it has absolutely changed my life for the better in so many ways. I don't ever want that feeling of gratitude to slip away again. I now know that making your mind strong is equally as important as making your body strong. I let the pressure get to me and I choked. From now on, I'm going to do my best to truly enjoy every moment of triathlon I get and to remember IT DOESN'T GET EASIER-YOU JUST GET STRONGER! Love y'all. Thanks for reading!

Cheers! CJ

[akocaine]

mental disorders are so vast and every single symptom falls into numerous diagnoses . Its like after having gone through MULTIPLE- psychiatric facilities, hospitals, prescriptions, support groups, therapists, psychologists, doctors (if you didnt know, yes, you actually have to goto two ,most of the time three or four, different doctors that have slightly different credentials with appointments scheduled weeks/months apart just to get medicine prescribed for anything other than depression because every doctor thinks anyone under 25 is going through a phase or they’re just some pill hungry kid trying to get xanax then they still prescribe you some half ass 2mg seditive to “take the edge off” so when it doesn’t work and you have to ask for something stronger, they can just write you off as blacklisted and you’re on your own" ) the only thing I’ve found to actually make sense in all of this . The reason suicide is the leading cause of death in 12 to 25 year olds. The reason so many people take numerous mental health prescriptions but can't get any better , Maybe its because there are people that are just born with the one emotion, they're just born sad or scared or mad. They are manifestations of a single emotion and grow to mimick the emotions around them. That's why they're so empty and every smile or laugh feels so forced . That's why they never get that warm feeling in their stomach that people always talk about. That's why love never feels like they found whats been missing or hearing their soul mates heartbeat never makes them have to catch their breath but instead It's just a deep pain in their chest that makes it hard to breath. They shut down and go cold . Maybe on some level they know it's only making everything hurt worse. Maybe the doctors know . Maybe there is no medicine for just a simple emotion . They hand out sugar pills as placebos, and when the people that are just helplessly made of a negative emotion say it’s not working, they mark them off as “crazy” or "pill hungry", or blame it on their life style. and then they can throw them to the wind. what else can you do? Tell someone theyre made of fear and they’re just going to have to spend the rest of life with shaky knees and sweaty palms? Then who would they have to work all those low wage jobs or buy all that pointless materialist shit .Think about it. It’s the internally sad people that run this economy . They work anything from simple fast food crew members to insignifigant office jobs for big corperations, working 12 hour shifts, exceeding every expectation, buying things that will make them better looking or blend them into this fantasy of societal exception all just trying to get someone- anyone to give them the outside recognition they need to be able to tell themselves they’re okay without feeling guilty because that one emotion is what their entire mentality is based off of . They are the drug buyers, the diet pills consumers, they buy the knock offs and keep the trendy clothes in high demand, everything you can buy to transform happiness into a physical object . They're the late night stories on the news, The statistics in school books and the hundreds and hundreds of webpages on suicide prevention- how to care for them when having mental break downs. people watch them in movies and tv shows jumping off bridges, crying, gasping for air or better yet watching them on this magical road to recovery when some boy/girl comes in and somehow makes them just up and forget that they have an actual mental disorder that medicine and therepy couldn't fix But yes some person comes in with sweet words and a good heart and they're all better. People tear up at their perfectly written speech on how alone they are because you know everyone has felt alone, it's relatable, they have a good cry at the big finishing kiss to make all the sad disappear, then all those people turn off their tvs, the theatre screen goes black, the curtain closes and They all leave feeling like they acomplished something . they did something good. Because now there's a happy ending for the girl they called a slut yesterday. Or there's hope for the guy they follow on instagram that posts sad ass shit everyday. And the friend that ' just bums everyone out ya know?' that gets too drunk when they go out so she always brings up how she wants to disappear, well, The movie ended good so they don't have to be bothered with actually doing anything. They sat threw 2 hours of all that . They did a good thing. They know what they're all going through now. See, they have to keep them sad . Who else would give them 3am McDonald's on the way in from the party, who would take all their messages and water their plants when they go off to see the world, who would buy their hair growth pills, who would keep up funding for overpriced mental health care facilities and drugs, who would they watch on the 10 o'clock news so they can feel like they're going through tragedies too? Who else would make them feel normal?