#The other day I got to Heathrow's bag drop over an hour early and had to sit outside next to the bus drop off point

[stampstamp]

Haneda Airport Terminal 3

23 April 2024

[mushiemadarame]

Trick-or-treat!

hi! thank you so much for sending this! i only have one KP fic in store but i do have others from other fandoms (way too many unfinished wips actually, i feel kind of guilty about it)

here's a sneak peek from a Jamie-centric Roy/Jamie one from Ted Lasso :D

~

Roy looks at his leg like he’s trying to assess if the damage he would get from walking from Heathrow to his flat is worth the pain if it means getting the last word with Jamie, but he sighs instead and climbs into the passenger seat with the exasperation someone who’s doing a favour - and not receiving one - might have. Jamie stares at the side of his face with incredulity, but Roy doesn’t flinch. He just keeps looking ahead outside the windshield and, after a couple of seconds of quiet, he asks, “Did you run out of gas or something?”

Jamie huffs out a laugh and turns on the ignition, speeding out of the temporary parking. For some unfathomable reason, Keeley’s pavlovian speech pops into his head and the ride to Roy’s apartment, which wouldn’t usually be all that long, seems to turn endless between Roy’s stoic silence and Keeley’s repeating “You don't remember how many times we shagged in this thing?”. But they do get there eventually, and Jamie thinks that’ll be it, Roy will pull out the suitcase he dropped on the backseat and disappear into his home and they’ll only see each other again at Nelson Road in four more weeks when the season is set to start back up.

When Jamie stops the car in the tiny driveway leading to Roy’s front door, though, Roy doesn’t get out.

“Thanks, Jamie,” he says, only turning to Jamie after he’s already done speaking. Jamie tries to come up with some kind of reply, but he’s too astonished by the sincerity in Roy’s voice and ends up nodding stupidly, which seems to be enough for Roy, who nods once too, and finally pushes open the car door.

He’s already got one foot on the ground when he pauses again. “You know,” he says, “I don’t really think you’re a prick anymore.” He doesn’t wait for an answer or look back at Jamie this time, only steps out and closes the door behind him. In the time it takes for him to pull out his bag from the backseat and disappear through the front door, Jamie’s left wondering how the hell he’s supposed to decipher that, and his whole ride home is cottony automation while his brain feels like it’s filled with static.

After a couple of days of on-and-off thinking about the incident that not even a small weightlifting mishap manages to distract him from, Jamie decides he’s over it. That was that, just some strange one-time thing that’s never gonna happen again from resident weirdo Roy Kent. It’s not like Roy has ever been a particularly open person, it’s just that most other times his inscrutability was directed at Jamie, it manifested in either sudden swearing that left Jamie wondering which dumb thing he did was pissing Roy off at the time or soccer-related or both, much easier to solve in any case.

The next Monday, after a weekend spent preferring to stay home in nothing but briefs rather than accept Richard’s invitation to some kind of club event that Jamie understands to have lasted from Saturday night well into the early hours of Sunday afternoon, Jamie makes his way to the entrance to the offices of Nelson Road with an iced coffee - although calling it coffee is a bit generous - in one hand and Dani walking next to him on the other side.

“I swear I didn’t know what to do, amigo,” Dani is recounting a run-in with a fan to him, “I signed the autograph and then after I gave it back he said: Thank you so much Mr Fernàndez, I loved you in Ben Fiasco. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just smiled and waved.”

Jamie tries to remember if he’s ever seen anything with that title and an actor that looks like Dani but comes up empty. “Heh, it’s alright, mate,” he reassures Dani, “Your handwriting’s shit anyway, he won’t notice.”

When they get to the pitch, already changed into their training gear, they find Roy there, which is weird. Unlike the players, the coaches actually get to go on holiday for the season break. They don't have any obligation to keep in shape or get the regular physical check-ups that only give the players the chance to go away for a couple of weeks at the most - a chance that Isaac and Colin are currently taking full advantage of - and can just fuck off wherever for the full six-week break they get. Coach Lasso is doing just that, flown out back to Kansas two days after their last match, if Jamie remembers correctly, and even Coach Beard, though he hasn't left the country, only shows up one or two days a week lately and almost never for the entire time Jamie and the other teammates spend training.

It’s always been a source of much complaining in the locker room, even though Jamie doubts he’d like all that free time without direction or obligations. He’s only had two weeks without a regular schedule so far and he already has more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with, he’s not sure he’d be able to fill six entire weeks on his own or that he would even want to. Still, he would have expected Roy of all people to keep as far away from Nelson Road as he could for the entirety of the break. It’s his first one as a retired player and even though Jamie doesn’t love the thought of having many years of soccerless life in his - hopefully very distant - future, he’d still expect he would grab the first time off in ages like a kitten in a fire and run with it as fast as he can.

But Roy is there instead, like he’s been there for the last however many years, ever present, ever unyielding.

“Come on!” he shouts from the centre of the pitch, with that small break in his voice he gets whenever it has to go that bit higher, and gestures for them to start running.

Jamie does, follows his orders to a T and doesn’t even notice he feels purposeful like he hasn’t in the last two weeks. Roy moves them around like he’s still part of the team, and he is, all the Coaches are, but Roy knows them like a hand knows its arm and it does as much good to them as players as it does him. Jamie can’t be imagining it, doesn’t think it’s the breeze gliding through the grass and under their sweaty shirts, making Roy’s hair as curly as it never seems to be, what’s making the lines in his face look softer, his eyes lighter.

Jamie runs, and plays and lets his feet follow the wind to the goal and before he can even start getting tired or feel his calves burning, almost three hours have passed.

“Coach,” Bumbercatch calls for Roy with a wave of the hand and makes his way towards him, shoulders heaving and steps slow. “It’s almost lunch,” he continues, “can we go? I have something later.” Jamie stops and gets closer too. The others seem to be thinking the same as a murmur of agreement brushes over them.

Roy looks at his watch and then nods. “Yeah, go ahead,” he allows, leading the way to the doors to the locker room. The players follow closely behind and he keeps it open for them, Jamie at the rear.

Jamie tips his chin up to Roy when he passes. “Thanks, Coach,” he says, and makes his way inside.

Roy follows him in, letting the door close. When they get to the locker room, he squeezes Jamie's shoulder and tells him, “Good job, Tartt,” before disappearing through the entrance to the coaches’ office.

Jamie falters, eyes wide, but Roy doesn’t stop and doesn’t look back and Jamie’s left to watch his retreating back, baffled. For a moment, Jamie thinks he must have imagined it, but Roy’s hand was sun-hot and steady through the sleeve and Jamie can still feel its impression. He takes off his gear slowly, trying to clear his mind, and by the time he’s out of the showers, only Dani is still there, tying his laces and getting ready to leave.

“Are you doing anything after this, amigo?” Dani asks him, shouldering his backpack.

Jamie thinks for a second, shirt paused halfway up his arms. “Not sure,” he replies, “You?”

Dani nods and smiles. “Some old friends from Guadalajara are visiting for a couple of days,” he explains, “We’re meeting for drinks.” He looks Jamie over and then asks, “Want to join us? I can wait for you.”

Dani seems genuinely excited at the prospect of bringing Jamie along, but Jamie’s not sure he’s up for it. Dani tends to surround himself with friends who are as sunshiney as he is, and the thought of an afternoon drinking and being cheerful with a bunch of strangers would sound appealing any of the other times Jamie isn’t in the weird funk he’s been carrying with him since the beginning of the break. “Sorry, Dani, I just remembered I’m meeting someone,” he lies and hopes the expression on his face is apologetic enough.

Dani’s smile dims a bit, but he doesn’t seem too bothered. “Next time, then,” he promises and then exits the room with a wave of his hand and a Spanish tune on his lips.

Jamie takes his time getting dressed, only having to worry about a whole lot of nothing planned for the rest of the day and he’s sure the locker room and the coaches’ office will be well and empty by the time he’s done getting ready to leave. He’s brushing back his still-wet hair and putting on his cap when Roy’s “Hey, Tartt,” makes him jump almost clear out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ bollocks,” Jamie swears loudly and turns around, leaning back into the bench so his knees don’t give out on him, “What the fuck, Roy?!”

“Sorry,” Roy apologises gruffly, but he’s obviously entertained. He continues, “Just wanted to thank you again for the lift the other day.” He crosses his arms and waits for Jamie to reply. Jamie has no idea what exactly he’s supposed to say, though.

He slowly straightens himself away from the bench and adjusts the cap on his head, trying to figure it out. “It’s cool,” he decides to go with, “No big.”

Roy nods but doesn’t make a move to leave. “Are you busy right now?” he asks. Then, without waiting for an answer, he continues, “Keeley’s busy with work and I don’t really have anything planned. I was thinking coffee if you're free?” His voice is stilted, even lower than usual, and the way he points to the door behind him is almost fidgety. Jamie has no fucking idea what is going on.

He contemplates saying no to Roy for a moment. He doesn’t like the idea of being a fill-in for Roy Kent’s precious time but he still can’t stop thinking about the weird way Roy keeps thanking him like he cares, like they’re friends, and it makes him queasy and wrong-footed, Jamie doesn’t like feeling wobbly. He’s gotten better at putting himself in positions where he either doesn’t hold the control or doesn’t have the time to care if he doesn’t, he had to if he wanted to go back to Richmond, but that’s football and he doesn’t know what this is so he almost says no. Then he thinks of going home, of his empty flat and the dishes from yesterday he hasn’t done yet, of the empty bed and the empty sofa and the TV where only he gets to choose what to watch and his mouth moves before he’s fully decided to make it do so. “Sure, not like I have anything better to do.” Roy lifts an eyebrow and surveys him from the top of his nose but doesn’t say anything before he turns and makes his way to the car park, Jamie left to either follow him or be left behind. He follows.

[bluesfortheredj]

Modern Romance - Epilogue.

Smut ahead.

“Gwil, I can’t do this, I can’t cope,” she sighs, her voice on the verge of cracking with tears.

I can hear our son in the background; his cries coming across loud and clear as if it were him on the phone instead.

“It’s as if I’m not good enough, I’m not you. He doesn’t want his mum, he wants his dad.”

“Don’t say that, he doesn’t want me! He wants you, the person who gave birth to him.”

“He always calms down when you soothe him. I’ve tried everything; his nappy is dry, he’s not hungry, he hasn’t got wind… I don’t know what else to do,” she sounds empty, completely drained from a sleepless night and day.

I’ve only been gone 48 hours and she’s been up for most of those with our little one. I should be there, I say this too many times in our relationship, but I’m out in Europe filming and absent for more important moments as usual. I didn’t want to leave but in all honesty we need the money now we’ve got a tiny human to feed and clothe, and with (Y/N) on maternity leave it’s a struggle at times to make ends meet. Our little Leo is only six months old and it was the toughest decision to make but (Y/N) encouraged me to take it being as it’s only four weeks, despite being apprehensive about being left on her own with the bubba.

“Put me on video,” I instruct, needing to see her face.

It feels like Australia all over again and I might as well be the other side of the world with how isolated she must be feeling right now. She does as I say and now I can see the sheer exhaustion on her face in the suddenly harsh light of our lounge; she’s pale, there are deep dark circles underneath her eyes, and she looks completely beaten. Leo is screaming in the rocker next to her, one of her feet still managing to try and soothe him in spite of the fact that her whole body was now weak with tiredness, and I have to force a reassuring smile.

“He will not. Stop. Crying,” she sobs, “the neighbours must think something terrible is going on in here with the way he’s screaming. I’m an awful mother, I can’t cope being alone with my own child, I-”

“Shh,” I hush, “you’re doing a brilliant job under the circumstances. I should be there to help, there’s absolutely no shame in struggling on your own with a new born! Just look at me… look at me a second… just breathe okay? Take some deep breaths. That’s it. In… and out. Now you’re gonna pick up Leo and do the same okay?”

I’m clutching at straws, I have no more of an idea of what to do than she does, and I’m just making this up in the blind hope that it’ll go some way to calm the two of them down.

“Maybe do the skin to skin thing?” I add, knowing that we were told how it can help with bonding in the early months.

She nods slowly, stands the phone up on the coffee table, undoes the top few buttons on her pyjama shirt, takes one last deep breath, then picks up Leo from the rocker and carefully tucks him inside the clothing with his little red face still crying out for something unknown. I nod and smile as she looks to the phone screen for reassurance, then she wipes her tears away and starts to take deep breaths once more while her finger tips massage Leo’s scalp gently while he cries into her neck.

“You know him better than anyone on this planet,” I remind her, “you nurtured him for nine whole months and made sure he came into this world as safely and healthy as he could.”

Her eyes close as she begins to hum a song and she nods along to what I say until finally those screams begin to fade and I watch as his tiny chunky arms reach out to (Y/N)’s skin and rest upon it as if hugging her. The humming stops and I soon realise the two of them are now asleep in front of me, but I stay on video for another twenty minutes just to watch them both and take in the sight of my little family snoozing happily without me there. Leo stirs a little, his eyes opening slightly to look up at his mum, then he nuzzles into her neck with a yawn and he’s soon off to sleep again before I manage to end the video call.

Everything had been quite the rush since I proposed over a year ago; we had a small wedding ceremony at a country house in the middle of nowhere when she was six months gone with only the closest family and friends being invited, and we chose to forgo a honeymoon in favour of going away after the baby arrived which obviously did not go to plan because babies are notoriously good at messing up plans; it’s lucky they’re so bloody cute. And Leo… well, he’s the cutest of them all, not that I’m biased in any way obviously, but he is definitely the most gorgeous baby I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the most perfect mix of (Y/N) and I with his tiny button nose and piercing blue eyes. It’s funny how you imagine having the perfect little family and yet somehow the reality isn’t as easy as you think; sleepless nights, sick down every top you own, explosive poos in almost every colour of the rainbow, pee on your face if you take the nappy away too quickly… it’s really quite fascinating how much a small human can impact on your life. (Y/N) is a born mother but it hasn’t been easy adjusting to this new way of life for either of us, and I know that this is such a huge step to be left on her own with Leo for so long, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it, I know that for a fact.

“Gwil!” (Y/N) whispers excitedly when I answer her video call a few days later, “look!”

She switches cameras to show me a sleeping Leo in his cot then backs out of the room and turns the camera on herself to show me a relieved smile on her still slightly sleep deprived face, “it only took a week,” she sighs.

I smile, yet still feel sad that I’m not there to help out, “I’m sorry,” I exhale with a shake of my head, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she reassures, “if I can get through the last week without tearing my hair out then I can get through anything, right?”

“Exactly,” I nod, “you’re the strongest woman I know.”

“I’m nothing without you here.”

“Shut up,” I scoff, “don’t be ridiculous. Now remind me, when are your parents getting there?”

She looks down at her watch briefly, “in about an hour.”

“Good, and did the shopping get delivered alright?”

“Yep,” she nods, “got about 20 packs of nappies now which should last at least a couple of days,” she laughs.

“How’s his poo doing?” the conversations we have these days really are quite unexpected.

“It’s looking more human and less glowing alien goop, so it’s going in the right direction!”

“Oh thank god,” I sigh, “I could not cope with the…” I pause as I almost gag at the thought of what I used to find in his nappy, “yeah… that.”

She laughs at my reaction; a laugh that I hadn’t seen since before I left, and I melt into the seat at the desk in my hotel room at the sight and sound of that beautiful response. It was like cool rain after a sweltering summer’s day, having a mug of hot chocolate while underneath a blanket in winter, or the pure, ecstatic relief of coming home after weeks away. She’s home to me; I don’t even need to be in our house as long as I’m with her and now little Leo as well.

“What are you thinking?” she hums, seeing me drift off to a place with her.

“I’m just-”

Leo’s scream comes across loud and clear on the phone and she sticks out her bottom lip as far as it will go before knocking the back of her head on the wall behind as she tries to muster up some energy to deal with the impending situation.

“I love you, bye,” she sighs, ending the video call just as I open my mouth to reply.

“Love you too,” I say to the photo of us dancing at our wedding that makes up the background on my phone.

I spend far too long looking at pictures on my phone these days, although it’s getting increasingly harder to find the ones of us alone through the many rapid shots of Leo doing completely mundane things like giggling, waving his hands about, sleeping, eating, bathing, and most probably pooing in at least fifty percent of them. I have to scroll for a while before something other than our little man appears, and I end up going all the way back to the first photo I ever took of (Y/N). It’s just as magical as the day I took it; the soft glow of the rising sun illuminating the outline of her body in our bed. Because now it is our bed. The bed we’ve made love in countless times, the bed we’ve both cried in, comforted one another in, laughed until we’ve almost wet ourselves in, and the bed our baby was conceived in. The first thing I do when I get home is take her to bed, as long as Leo can give us five minutes that is; I think I’ll have to call in reinforcements, aka grandparents as childcare.

-

I try to squeeze through the crowds at the airport as quickly as possible so I can jump in a cab and get home, but these people will just not move. My frustrations grow with each person that bumps into me, and I’m a grumbling mess when I finally get outside the prison that is Heathrow, especially when I see that there are no taxis in sight thanks to the mass influx of people tonight. It’s a nightmare and the cheerful and relieved mood I was in when we landed has been stripped away bit by bit in the last half an hour. I finally find myself a cab and pop earphones in for the relatively quick journey considering London traffic, then I breathe a sigh of relief as I arrive home and walk up that familiar path. The door flies open before I even get to the mat and I drop my suitcase and bag as (Y/N) comes running out to greet me, flinging her arms around my neck and almost knocking me over with her enthusiasm. Now I’m really home.

“I missed you so much,” she quietly sobs into my shirt.

“I missed you more,” I whisper back, tears rolling over my cheeks, “are you okay? Is Leo alright? Where is he?”

She pulls away and I wipe her tears as she hangs on to my coat, “please don’t hate me but he’s with my parents until tomorrow…”

My face lights up at the thought of having (Y/N) all to myself again if only for 24 hours, and I can’t help but let out a relieved laugh, “how could I ever hate you? I get you alone for a whole day and we can pretend we’ve got no actual responsibilities. I couldn’t love you any more if I tried. Now come on, we’re having sex in every room.”

I take her hand and pull her inside the house to the sweetest sound of her laughing behind me, and I sit her on the stairs before running back out to grab my luggage. I drop it all in a pile in the hallway before I kick the door shut behind me, then she stands up on the step she stood on the first proper weekend we spent together and we recreate that kiss; the kiss that cemented us as a couple despite there being no labels at that point as we stood in our pyjamas ready for a night of nothing in particular.

“I completely and utterly adore our little Leo, but my god I’ve been aching to have you all to myself since he arrived,” I admit breathlessly, barely parting from our kiss as my hands wander her body unsure of where to stop these days.

“I know,” she nods as her lips move along my jaw lazily, “it’s just you and me until tomorrow night my love. Let’s not waste a minute.”

My eyes roll into the back of my head at those words and she pushes against my chest as she steps down from the stairs, then in a flurry of discarded clothes, wet, messy kisses and bumps into walls, doors, and furniture we somehow end up in the living room with me sat on the sofa and my beautiful (Y/N) bouncing up and down on my lap. I’ve missed this, I’ve missed her, I’ve missed the feeling of being so intimate with the one I love, I’ve missed her body and all the beautiful little changes it’s made to carry and nurture our son. I look up at her in both awe and pure pleasure to see her gaze focused on me and we meet for a sloppy, teeth clashing kiss while our bodies move together as one for the first time since our bubba came along. I’m first to orgasm, with her following shortly after, and we lay in a tangled, naked mess along the sofa as we catch our breath once we’ve finished. Our bodies are stuck together with the thin layers of sweat that coat both of us and the only sound is our breathing as it transitions from pants to soft breaths.

“Pasta?” she eventually asks.

“I fucking love you,” I reply.

She gets up with a grin and I study every inch of her body as she looks around for something to cover her, then I realise just how much it had changed during the pregnancy and the last few months and it’s a bewitching sight to see.

“You look incredible,” I admire, leaning up on one arm as she slips my t-shirt over her head.

“Urgh,” she groans, “I’m fatter than ever, my nipples are so painful, the stretch marks have spread, and I can barely get control over my bladder. I look far from incredible.”

I furrow my brow at her and sit up, “I mean it; you’re absolutely stunning. I hadn’t realised just how much your body had adapted to having our little one but it’s amazing to see, and you’re just as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more.”

“How is it you can still make my knees weak with mere words?” she blushes, backing out of the room to sort out some food.

I dress… well, I put on my pants and the jogging bottoms I wore on the journey back, then join her in the kitchen and it’s as if we’re back to those first couple of months again; the silliness, the passion, the carefree nature of us both, and it’s just as intoxicating now as it was back then. I know it’s completely selfish but having her attention on just me again is what I’ve been craving since our little muffin came along, and I’m sure that this will satiate my need for at least another six months. To be honest, I think she needs this just as much as I do; she’s had a tough month being on her own with Leo and playing both mum and dad while I’ve been away, and now she can have a well deserved day off from it all.

Our day is filled with delicious food, laying on the sofa and watching a whole television programme without being disturbed by cries, getting lost in one another with endless kissing and touching, and we make love two more times with one in our bedroom and the other in the kitchen. By night we don’t even want to go to sleep for fear of missing a second of being with each other, but we soon have to give in to the utter exhaustion of being awake for so long, and we huddle up together for a peaceful nights sleep.

“Morning,” (Y/N) whispers softly as I blink into the light of the room.

“Morning,” I reply groggily, trying my best to sit up.

“I have a confession to make…”

“Go on.”

“I phoned my parents this morning and they’re bringing Leo back in an hour. I loved our time together, it was perfect in every way, but my god am I missing that little sleep stealer!”

I let out a chuckle at her confession, “me too. It just wasn’t the same watching almost a whole series without one interruption. I miss cuddling him in one arm and trying to do something else with the other.”

“Well, it’s official… we’re proper parents now.”

“Yep. Undoubtedly so!”

She slips under the covers and cuddles into my side, running her fingers through the hair on my chest softly, and we both close our eyes to savour the moment before begrudgingly getting up and dressed ready for the return of Leo.

“Thank you,” I say as we spot her parent’s car pulling up outside.

“For what?” she frowns.

“Sticking with me, making me a dad, being my rock… the list goes on.”

She places a hand on my cheek and kisses my lips gently, “you big softie. You’re stuck with me anyway,” she winks.

The arrival of Leo at the door is signified by one of his giggles, and (Y/N) runs to open it and take our son in her arms with me following quickly behind. He wriggles against her and soon starts grabbing at her to get as close as humanly possible to his mum as she peppers his head with kisses while she carefully rocks her body soothingly.

“Daddy’s home!” she whispers excitedly as she passes him to me and ushers her parents into the lounge.

He grumbles a little, having to get used to smelling his dad again after such a long time, but he soon settles and overall seems pleased to see me thank goodness. I rock him in my arms as (Y/N) goes to make the tea and I stand in the kitchen doorway looking between the two loves of my life and completely taken aback by how lucky I got to have them in my life.

“Hey, come here,” I nod as (Y/N) turns to look at me.

She steps towards us both and plants a soft kiss on the little one’s nose as I wrap my free arm around her, then press my lips first to (Y/N)’s head, and secondly to Leo’s. As long as I’ve got these two in my life, I’ll be happy.

[mrcurrygoestospain]

Camino De Santiago - Round 5

Spain travel log, 2021…

Day One:

September 20 - Depart Seattle for Madrid, by way of London. There were plenty of issues just getting to this point. In addition to the ongoing concerns over COVID-19, or perhaps because of them, I had some serious concerns about whether I could and whether I should do this trip at all. In the end, I think I simply realized that it was totally appropriate for me to go on this trip: I’ve been “responsible” and taken the full round of vaccinations, generally avoided social contacts with people and been diligent about the masks. So I made my reservations and thought everything was fine. About 2 weeks before takeoff, I got an email from Iberia that one of my flights had been changed. When I looked into it, I found that it was the connecting flight from London to Madrid and the schedule had been bumped up by about 6 hours taking me from having a 2 hour layover in Heathrow to needing to be on a plane for Madrid 4 hours before I actually landed in London and would be able to board it… It took attempts at phone calls over several days to get this corrected. Finally, I tried while I was at top work one morning around 5:00 am. I finally got through and a nice lady helped rebook my connecting flight. She found the only available flight on that day that would work; now I have a seven hour layover.

I prepped for my trip, checklists and routes planned. I arrived at the airport 3 hours early, just in case. Although I booked with Iberia, it was a British flight. So standing in line at the BA counter in SeaTac, I saw the sign: “All passengers must show proof of a negative COVID test.” What? I’d already checked multiple times; I only need proof of vaccination to get into Spain. I check the internet. Sure enough, if you’re on a layover in England, you need a negative test…A quick Google search helped me find a testing center at SeaTac airport, so I rushed down to baggage claim number nine to see if I could get a test in time. In all honesty, I really thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d have to try to contact the airline again to find a way to reschedule my flight. I stood in the line for what seemed like forever, but finally had the privilege of paying $250 for a rapid COVID test. T- minus 2 hours 30 minutes to departure and they promised results in 1-1.5 hours. The test itself was relatively painless. After all of the horror stories I’d heard about the nasal swabs, I was a bit worried. But it didn’t hurt, it just tickled a little bit. I waited, and waited…it seemed like they would never have my results. While I waited, I heard stories from other travelers who had missed flights or rebooking because of these ridiculous COVID-related requirements. One young Canadian lady I spoke to shared that she’d spent over $1000 on COVID tests in the last month due to traveling. I guess my $250 wasn’t so much.

I finally got my negative test results and rushed back to the check in counter, filled out the required government forms and headed through security. The flight was delayed.

After a nine hour flight to London, I had seven or eight hours to kill in Heathrow Airport, Terminal 5, before boarding my flight to Madrid. I shopped, I ate, I listened to podcasts. I took a few naps and generally cursed British Airways for changing my original flight. Some Italian guy made quite a scene at the boarding gate for the flight to Madrid. The gate agent handled it quite well and passive-aggressively punished him for his demeanor.

I arrived in Madrid after an easy flight on Iberia, made my way to the metro and on to my Hostel. It was a nice enough place. After 28 hours of travel, I was ready for a shower and bed.

Day 2:

On my one day in Madrid, I walked from my hostel/hotel to the Museo Nacional del Prado. It’s Spain’s greatest art museum. This was my second time there and I spent a lot more of it. There are so many amazing pieces and, for someone who used to truly despise art, it was amazing. I highly recommend it. I haven’t been to a whole lot of art museums, but it is, by far, my favorite. I followed that with a walk through the Royal Botanical Gardens. I’m sure they’re great when all of the flowers are blooming, but in early fall, it’s just a lot of green. Either way, it was still peaceful. I visited another nearby park, walked around and viewed the statues, and then made my way back towards the hotel and passed it to go to the Cathedral opposite the royal palace. It’s a much more modern cathedral than the ones I’ll see on the Camino, but still impressive.

Day 3:

On the morning of the third day, I got up early and got packed. Took the metro to the train station and purchased a ticket to Leon. After two hours on the train, I took a 20 minute walk to the hotel and dropped off my bag, and then spent the next few hours wandering the city. I found a barber and got a haircut for 9 Euro, quite a bargain. Stopped at the “Taste of America” shop to get a bottle of hot sauce (Cholula, of course), and just meandered around the city until I could get checked in at the hotel. It was a pretty uneventful day, which is just what I needed. I was still very tired from all of the traveling and trying to swap schedules.

Day 4:

I got up late, around 8:00 AM and started walking the city. I stopped for a cafe con leche and met a Scottish couple who had been walking the Camino for the last few weeks. While we waited out the rain under cover, the shared with me some of their other walking adventures, including tales of walking through the Swiss Alps on the Via Francigena, a pilgrimage route to Rome. I may have to look into that for a future trip. I also shared with them my plans/considerations of taking a walk on the “Great Glen Way” in Scotland. The wife had already done this and highly recommended it, along with the West Highland Way. Both are approximately 5-day walks through some of the wild country of Scotland. When the rain let up, we parted ways and I went to tour the Cathedral, toured the Basilica of Saint Isidore and wandered around town, shopping and eating. Inside the Saint Isidore museum and basilica, i had the opportunity to see what is referred to as the “Sistine Chapel of Romanesque Art” as well as a gold and silver cup that some historians claim is the “holy grail.”

Day 5:

Didn’t sleep much…I forgot how much they like to party in Spain. It was LOUD all night long. Anyway, started my walk. Today was about 27 km and it rained through about 50% of the day. It was a mix of roads and dirt tracks. I only saw one other pilgrim, a Spaniard who doesn’t speak any English. I got ahead of him and had stopped for a rest at a picnics table on top of a mountain. He showed up a few minutes behind me and I tried to chat for a minute, but the language barrier…. I offered him half of my tangerine and then he took off again. I passed him up later. I had been slightly worried about where to stay for the night as the municipal albergue in this province/state are currently closed due to the ‘Rona, but when I got to town I found a pension with rooms available. The lovely lady named Susana showed me to a room and also worked tirelessly to make me a reservation for the following night. I hadn’t eaten much for the day, so I ordered big: hot dog and patatas oil bravas. Patatas bravas is a traditional dish in Spain which is made of fried potatoe cubes that are covered in a (typically) spicy tomato sauce. Potatoes Ali Oli are the same fried potatoes but with a garlic cream sauce instead of the spicy sauce. This one combined both sauces. It was nice. The inside of the restaurant/bar/cafe was very loud with a bunch of men playing a card game I’m not familiar with, so I went outside to have a beer. An older Spaniard, named Hilario, came out and started trying to talk to me. I explained that I am American and I don’t speak much Spanish, but he disagreed. So he went inside and got another man, a Hungarian who had been in Spain for the last 25 years, named Fernanco(?) who was extremely drunk, to come out and talk to me. He was so drunk, he introduced himself as “muy borracho” or “very drunk” and the proceeded to tell me that he used to be a muy Thai fighter and a coal miner and now he was just a fat drunk who collected money from the government because he got hit in the head too many times. At least I THINK that’s what they were saying…. I went to bed early to get a good rest and let my aching feet and hips recover before a long day tomorrow….from La Robla to Poladura, should be about 25km or so with some very intense climbs. We’ll see.

I’m currently on the Camino San Salvador, which is a route from Leon to Oviedo. They say “whoever goes to Santiago without visiting Oviedo, goes to the servant but not to the Lord.” This is because Oviedo is famous for having a specific relic. While most people are aware of the Shroud of Turin, which is the burial cloth of Jesus, many don’t know (including me, until recently) that traditional Jewish burial included placing a cloth over the face of the deceased immediately after death and until the body was prepared for burial. This cloth would then be removed and the full-body cloth would be applied. So anyway, this Cathedral boasts possession of the face covering that was placed over Jesus’ head, likely immediately after the spear pearled his side and before he was brought down off of the cross. Once I complete the Camino San Salvador (about 5 days, I hope), I will continue on to the Camino Primitivo, one of the many Camino’s de Santiago. So the Camino San Salvador goes to the relics of Christ and the Camino Santiago (Santiago = Saint James) goes to the resting place and remains of Saint James (the major), also known as “Santiago Matamoros” or “Saint James the Moor Slayer”, the patron saint of Spain.

[mcwriting]

Starstruck (9)

hello it’s me again. Second to last chapter :( but I’ve got bigger things in the works

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Fandom: Tom Holland

Ship: Tom x reader

Setting: LA, London

Word Count: 2230

Warnings: mild language

Rating: K+

                            __________________________________

Tom dodged cameras and wove through crowds as he made his way through London Heathrow Airport.

He finally was home in London, but only for about a week since he’d be coming back to LA for you.

The news had obviously broken that Tom had left South Korea, so now he was being bombarded with paparazzi who still wanted to know everything about you, especially your speech four days prior.

He continued to ignore them as he got to where Tuwaine was waiting to pick them up.

The car doors slammed shut as all four boys settled themselves in, Harrison up front and the Hollands in the back. Tuwaine locked the doors, then turned around.

“Seems like we’ve got a lot to talk about, boys.”

“You have noooo idea,” Tom muttered as the others nodded eagerly.

The drive back to their south London house was comfortable to Tom after everything that had happened. They mostly strayed from talking about you in the car, instead sharing funny stories from the long-lived press tour. 

Sam decided to head back to his parents’ house after they arrived at the other boys’, ringing up an uber. He just wanted to sleep in his own bed. Their parents and Paddy had come home from the premiere before Tom went to Korea.

Once the boys were showered off and settled in, they told Tuwaine everything from the pre-release press tour before the premiere to meeting you to everything since. 

“That’s mad, Tom. So when are you going back? And how do you plan on going unseen?” Tuwaine asked.

“Well we’re gonna get back to LA on Thursday to have time to adjust again and get everything settled. I’ve paid for a couple private planes to keep things off the radar as best as I can. All of you can come if you want.”

After further discussion, they decided for only Harrison and Harry to join Tom since the others had prior commitments. 

After a couple more hours of catching up and reflecting on the past weeks, everyone finally decided to retire to their beds and hopefully get some rest.

As Tom layed down, he thought about the plan to see you again. He was nervous and excited at the same time, and went to sleep thinking one thing.

I’m coming to get ya, y/n.

                             __________________________________

As always, news of Tom’s travel back home was all over the internet with clips and pictures of him dodging through the airport being shared, you of course being tagged in those pictures by fan accounts wanting attention.

“Ughhhh I’m so tired of people tagging me in this shit like I actually care! I’m not even remotely involved in these pictures!” you exclaimed to b/f/n, who was sprawled on your bean bag chair as you laid on your stomach across a rug. 

You showed her a fan edit of Tom someone tagged you in, which was just a video transitioning between pictures of him from his press tour.

“I know. It’s so dumb like, he’s even likely to see stuff if you just pester his friends, or in your case… whatever you guys are.”

“Give me a break. We’re nothing. We just met and yeah. That’s all there is to it.”

“I don’t buy it, but whatever. I need to use your charger.”

You pointed to the bed.

“It’s over on the other side if you want it.”

B/f/n sighed dramatically, then rolled her way off the bean bag to flop onto your bed, plugging the device in. After a few minutes of silent scrolling on your phones, she piped up.

“Yo. Why does your bed smell so good? New detergent or something?”

You blushed, realizing you never told her about that little detail.

“Uh, well. It’s cologne.”

She turned her head to look directly at you, eyebrows raised cheekily.

“And why do you have cologne on your bedsheets?”

You avoided looking directly at her for a second, cringing a little.

“Well… I may have kind of left out the part of the story where Tom gave me a whole bottle of his cologne and it smelled really good so I sprayed it all over my sheets… but like no biggie right?”

She sat up.

“Yes biggie! You know exactly what Tom Holland smells like and didn’t think to tell me?”

“I forgot about it until the other day when I found the bottle in a bag of my stuff. Didn’t seem important.”

“Okay, if it’s not important, then why did you douse your bed in his scent?”

“I told you, I think it smells good. That’s it.”

“You’re really going to sit there and try to convince me of that? Everyone knows that scent memory is a really big deal, not to mention that he literally gave it to you.”

You stared each other down for almost a minute before you cracked.

“Okay, fine. It helps me sleep, alright? It takes me back to the night he spent here, which honestly was one of the best nights of my life. It just felt so nice talking to him about vulnerable things, you know? At the time I thought I could trust him, and maybe a part of me wants to remember that side of him.”

B/f/n nodded as you finished.

“I get it. What he did sucks, but you can’t let that ruin the good memories you do have. Things will work themselves out. They always do. You just need to remember that you’re a boss bitch and no matter what happens, you’re gonna be alright.”

“Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime. Now let’s forget about him and figure out where we want to get our nails done next week.”

                             __________________________________

It was now Tuesday, and you and b/f/n sat in adjacent pedicure chairs, trying to lean back peacefully as yours vibrated violently in the name of a “massage.”

After you both struggled to not laugh while the nail techs exfoliated your feet, you were now relaxed and still as they began to actually polish your toenails.

You looked over to see b/f/n smiling at her phone.

“Who’s got you acting up?” you asked. She looked up in surprise.

“It’s no one. Catherine just sent me something funny on Instagram.”

“Oh, okay. Send it to me.”

In reality, she had been talking to Harrison and Tom about Friday, sending them pics of you in your dress the prior week and learning of their plans to get to LA on Thursday morning. 

To cover for herself, though, b/f/n scrolled through her dm’s with Catherine, looking for something she’d received but never sent to you.

                             __________________________________

Wednesday in London, Tom, Harrison, and Harry sat around the dining room recapping the plan for the rest of the week.

“Okay, so we’re gonna get there pretty early tomorrow morning and then I arranged for us to stay at an AirBnb under b/f/n’s name but obviously I’m paying for it. Since none of us are 25, I couldn’t get a regular rental car, but I talked to Audi and they said they’d loan me another car as long as we post some pictures with it.”

“Won’t that defeat the purpose of laying low if we’re plastering our faces with the car online? It won't be hard to distinguish London from pretty much anywhere else,” Harry claimed.

“They said as long as we get the pictures up before we leave town, we’re good. We’ll just have to put it in the calendar so I don’t forget.”

Harry took that as his cue to put it in the calendar right then.

“What about the actual event? I know you said you got in touch with them,” Harrison brought up.

“I’m glad you asked, mate. They were down for letting us make our appearance a surprise, so they’ll have staff sneak us in the back and wait until b/f/n gives us the go-ahead. They’re gonna introduce me and I’ll give a quick word and then… hopefully y/n will let me talk to her.”

The group got everything in order and loaded their bags into Tuwaine’s car once again for him to drive them to the private jet hangars.

After saying their goodbyes again and loading up onto the plane, the boys were in the air, headed west. They would be stopping in New York to change planes, and got comfortable for the almost 8 hour flight.

By the time they got to New York, the boys were exhausted going through customs. They were happy to find that so far no one had seemed to leak the fact that they had left London and were now in the states.

They boarded the next plane and prepared for the 6 hour flight, this time planning to get sleep as it was overnight and they’d be arriving in the morning.

The sun was beginning to rise over Los Angeles as the plane touched down.

“Tom, we’re here,” Harry said, shaking his brother awake as the plane taxied. 

Tom blinked his eyes a few times to adjust to the light, looking out the window. 

The boys deplaned on the tarmac and sat tiredly in the small airport’s lobby as they waited for someone to drop off the car. 

Tom noticed one woman at the desk looking over at him frequently. He was afraid she would end up putting him all over the internet, so he got up and came to the desk.

“Hi there.”

She looked at him, startled.

“Um, hello.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you looking over at us. Would you happen to be a fan?” Tom asked politely. She blushed.

“Yes, actually, I am.”

“Would you like a picture?” Tom offered. He knew he looked horrible from his long journey but needed to know she wouldn’t go around telling everyone about meeting him.

“That would be incredible! I was too afraid to ask.”

Tom called Harry over to take the picture on her phone, then took it from the younger brother. Tom noticed Harrison carrying a couple bags out the door to a car.

“That’s a good one! I only ask that you try to keep this to yourself? At least until tomorrow evening? I’m on a bit of a secret mission, and I don’t quite want the public to know I’m here, yet.” 

The girl’s eyes widened.

“Of course! I’d hate to ruin anything for you.”

“Awesome, thank you so much. And it was quite lovely meeting you, I look forward to seeing those pictures again one day.”

With that, Tom was out the door and on his way to the spot they had rented out for the trip.

                             __________________________________

B/f/n woke up Thursday to work out again and saw there was an Instagram notification on her lock screen. It was Harrison (or maybe Tom, who knew who she was actually talking to).

We made it to the AirBnb. Thanks again for putting it under your name.

She saw it had been sent about an hour prior, so she replied.

No worries. I haven’t seen anything online about you being in the US, so it seems like you’re good so far

We’ll try to keep a low profile. We’re mostly trying to adjust to the time again so Tom isn’t falling asleep at the formal tomorrow night

B/f/n snorted. She figured it really was Harrison that she was talking to.

At the boy’s rented house, they were sitting around drinking black coffee to stay awake for the day. Eventually, they ran outside and took pictures with the car, being careful to watch that no one was looking at them.

As the morning went on, they quickly came to an unfortunate realization.

There was no food in the house, and they couldn’t just go out and get it. Delivery wasn’t the best bet either considering someone would have to answer the door.

So with stomachs growling, they messaged b/f/n again, asking her to pick up some groceries to hold them over for the day.

You’re lucky I’m not with y/n right now. Just send me a list and I’ll bring it over asap

It took her over an hour to get to the store, find everything on the list, and take it to the house. Her stomach fluttered when she pulled into the driveway as she was finally meeting her idol for real.

The door swung open before she could knock.

“Oh thank God you’re finally here, I’m starving,” Harrison said , taking the bags from her hands. “Come in, come in. Don’t need anyone seeing us.”

She stepped in the door to find the other two sitting on the couch. They greeted her starstruck self. 

“Oh, wow. Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” she eventually spit out, looking at them in amazement.

She ended up spending almost an hour conversing with them, Tom paying her back for the groceries and them finalizing the details for the upcoming day.

She stood in the doorway preparing to leave.

“Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow. I don’t know what she’ll do, but good luck either way.”

“Thanks, b/f/n, that means a lot. And thanks for all the help you’ve been. Without you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

                            __________________________________

A/N: honestly I’m kinda sad that this is almost over. I started it over a year ago now and I’ve really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully I’ll put out the last chapter next week and then will begin scheduling “the marriage project.” Love you guys!

TAG LIST: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @dreamyvans, @lisannehus, @honeymoonpeter, @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven, @chenellearose, @photoshopart15, @parkeret, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @racewife2004, @joyleenl

To be added to my story or permanent tag list, pls send a message or ask

[chrismdthings]

mardy bum

pairing: chris dixon x reader warning(s): tiny bit of angst if you squint, then fluffffff note: inspired by Mardy Bum - Arctic Monkeys

Remember cuddles in the kitchen, yeah To get things off the ground And it was up, up and away Oh, but it’s right hard to remember that On a day like today When you’re all argumentative And you’ve got the face on

Well, now then, mardy bum Oh, I’m in trouble again, aren’t I?

You looked down at your phone, reading the series of notifications on your lockscreen. Three hours ago, flight got delayed. Thirty minutes ago, I realized how impossible it is to catch a cab outside Heathrow. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Shaking your head, you look back up and catch the eye of the nearest waiter, motioning him over.

“Would you like another few minutes for your party to arrive, miss?” He asked kindly.

You silently thank God for the small mercy that Chris never stood you up at the same restaurant twice. The staff weren’t aware of how quite pathetic you were or how you felt. Smiling at his attempt to save your feelings, you shake your head.

“No,” you said. “Just the check, please.”

While downing the rest of the pint in front of you, the waiter returned with the small folder containing the check. You’re grateful that it’s not a busy night, the restaurant only about half full, and don’t even bother, instead shoving a couple tenners inside, way overpaying for just a drink and entree, before handing it back to the waiter who scurries off as you stand and grab your things, heading straight to the door.

A few women near the door catch your eye and offer a sympathetic smile. It was somewhat gratifying that a few men at the bar gave little shakes of their heads as if dumbfounded that someone had left you waiting. Sliding on your coat, you pushed through the wooden door and into the cold December night, fetching your car down the street to head home.

When you slipped into the driver seat of your car, you checked your phone again, taking note of the timing of Chris’ last text; I’m on my way there now. Stick around for me, yeah? You laughed bitterly, locking your phone back before starting your car and heading down the familiar path to your townhome.

· · ·

Your phone is ringing as you open the door, you ignore it and kick off your shoes. The only person that would be calling at this time at night, and now, you had no desire to talk to him. It stops ringing for a moment before it starts again. Again, you ignore it while heading upstairs, taking off your earrings to drop them onto the dresser. And once more, you ignore the ringing as you slide out of your jeans and blouse to slip into the shower.

The phone rings twice more while you make macaroni and cheese in the kitchen, and then once as you slide into bed. Luckily for you, Chris doesn’t call anymore as you pull up Netflix and start on the episode of Peaky Blinders that you had left off on.

It had been two weeks since you last saw Chris, when he left to go back home for the beginning of the holiday season to spend it with his family. Now that the initial holidays were over and New Year’s was approaching, he planned on coming in to spend the rest of the year with you, in your shared London space. It was a tradition.

That night he was supposed to fly in, meet you at the house before leaving for dinner. Then his flight was delayed – pushing the schedule back for the first time. He then told you he would meet you at the small Irish pub around the corner from yours, your favorite spot, the tradition. And then the schedule was pushed back once again as the influx at the airport had been too much, and it was near impossible to find a cab while fighting off the rush of travelers from the holidays.

It hadn’t been the first time this happened.

Just last month he had left you waiting at The Shard, in the most elegant, yearned-for-reservation place in the entire city, and you had been left alone when his train didn’t make it back from Manchester in time. That was something you had brushed off before, but now, as you were stood up for the second time, it almost began to burn.

It wasn’t that the relationship was struggling, it wasn’t that you were falling out of love, it was just annoying. You had always been the type of person to be on time for everything, early for appointments or meetings, or right on time for dinners or nights out with friends. It was that this was the second time, more specifically twice in a public place, and it was embarrassing each time. You wished that Chris was a more thoughtful person.

Sitting the empty bowl on the nightstand, you flipped off the light and put on your favorite show to fall asleep to before a light slumber took over.

Chris slipped into the townhouse an hour after he sent his last text message, being welcomed back in complete darkness with the exception of the small light in the kitchen. He walked further inside, toeing off his shoes at the door and dragging his suitcase behind him. Swiftly changing into a pair of shorts, discarding all of his airport clothes back into the bag, Chris walked upstairs to where your room was at on the left. He was walking through the dark like he had done this his entire life. It was like he could always make his way around where you were.

You were asleep as he pushed the door open farther, laying on your side with eyes fluttered shut as an episode of Friends played on the telly. The colors from the screen danced around the room until he shut it off, sliding into the bed next to your warm body.

“I’m sorry,” Chris said into the darkness, pulling the covers over his hips. “I don’t even know if you’re awake, but I’m sorry. I should have planned everything out better, I should have made sure I was here early enough to be with you. I know you wanted to have a special night.”

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, vaguely making out the small patterns. In the corner, there was one of those small, glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling, that he put there after you first moved in because you said you wanted to fall asleep under the stars. It was for a joke, one that you appreciated fully. Staring at it, he could still hear your laugh as he explained it.

“I know how much small things mean to you,” he let out a deep breath, “I’ll do better. I’m just glad to finally be back here, with you. At home.”

On your right side, your eyes remained closed, but you let out a small smile before Chris settled in for the night too.

· · ·

The next morning Chris woke up before you, but when he slipped out of the shower he noticed that you were no longer wrapped under the blankets, but instead downstairs where he could hear pans and pots being used, coffee brewing.

After drying off and sliding into a new pair of shorts, Chris walked out into the hallway, prepared to head downstairs when he saw the photos hanging on the walls above the railing. They were mostly of you and your siblings, family and friends, and then there was two of you and Chris. The photos were from particular holidays – one from Wales that was your first trip together, another from an island off of Scotland for your first anniversary as a couple. There were plenty of other holidays taken, too, to France, to New York, and all of those photos were sitting in frames downstairs on end tables and the mantle.

It took a while to finally finish putting up all the photos in the house. After moving in just a few months ago, you managed to slowly but surely put them up rather than dedicating an entire day to it. Even though you had been living there for just a handful of months, it was already starting to feel more homely than before, for both of you.

He smiled slightly, sleepily, before carrying down the stairs to the living room. You were standing by the stove when Chris stepped into the kitchen through the doorway. A shot of happiness, of joy, went straight through your system, your body immediately craving jumping into his arms and welcoming him back in the way you originally planned, but the memories of the night before, the anger and going to sleep sad took over instead.

“Morning,” Chris finally said as he moved through the room to the adjacent room. You didn’t say anything back, just looking back down to the mug in front of you, occasionally taking glances as he walked into the living room.

He lowered down on the sofa to go through his bag, picking out clothes that he could put on today if you two had decided to leave the house. And then he noticed that a pair of jeans and his shirt was missing – the ones that he had worn yesterday.

His head raised to look around the room – his clothes weren’t strewn over any arm of furniture, or left in a puddle on the floor. They were gone. And that’s when he took note of the sound of the washing machine running just off the living room. You had cleaned up around his bag, put his dirty clothes in the wash. Even when you weren’t speaking, you were still showing affection through simple, domestic acts.

When Chris spun around to speak of it, he turned his head over his shoulder and saw you walking towards him, a second mug in hand. Actually, it was his favorite mug in your home – a white one with multicolored lines that resembled the tube lines of London. He smiled when you stepped around the corner of the sofa, handing it out to him.

“Welcome home, love,” you finally said while sinking down on the sofa.

It was a mug of tea while you enjoyed yours of coffee, making sure to add both sugar and milk to each. He smiled and pulled you into his lap as you sat, both nestling the mugs in your hands, taking occasional sips.

You stared at the liquid in the mug before raising your head, looking at Chris’ side profile, admiring it while you ran the back of your fingers across his cheek. It was moments like this that you missed the most while he was gone – just existing together, in the same room.

“And I’m sorry for being a bitch last night. You know – not answering texts, calls, and leaving the pub.” You apologized. “It was shitty and I’m sorry for not saying something to let you know.”

Chris shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I knew you would leave if I didn’t show up, so I didn’t even bother checking to see if you were there.” He explained, sliding his arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer into him. His bare skin was warm against yours. “And I’m sorry too.”

“I know, I heard you talking last night.”

Chris’ head hastily turned to look at you. “You were awake?” He asked and you nodded. “And you just let me talk in the dark like an idiot?”

You laughed, “add that to the list of things I’m sorry about too.” Laying your head down on his shoulder, you two sat in silence, sipping from your mugs, just enjoying the presence of the other for the first time in two weeks. “So how do you want to enjoy the holidays now that you’re back?” You asked. “Eating? Sleeping?”

Chris hummed. “How about all of the above?” He asked, half-jokingly and you laughed, nodding.

“Sounds good. First, let’s make pancakes, though.”

“You really know the way to my heart,”

You both scrambled to your feet, sliding in your socks into the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients and pans to be used. You grabbed the butter and eggs from the refrigerator, turning around to watch Chris shuffle through the mixes in the pantry. You smiled when he raised to his toes to grab it off the top shelf.

“You know,” you hummed, “we called it our home.”

Chris raised a brow at you. “What?” He asked while sitting everything on the island.

“When you got in bed last night, you said that it was nice to finally be home. And I guess it kind of, hit me too, because I told you welcome home just a few minutes ago.” You explained, the corners of your lips turning up. “We hadn’t done that before.”

At first, this was your townhouse – your new place after moving out of the tiny flat in the towers outside of London, but when Chris’ visits were more often and for a longer duration, it was no longer just your place. It was for both of you now.

The townhouse was what Chris always had in mind when he imagined going home, to the place where he always felt comfortable, when someone asked where his happy place was. The townhouse was yours, but now with his toothbrush on the sink, his clothes in the closet, his filming equipment in the office, it felt like his, too.

Chris dropped his chin, looking over the things he pulled from the pantry. “I mean,” he looked back up at you, “I guess that it just feels right, yeah?”

“It does,” you said sliding around the corner, next to him, “I like saying that I can come home to you.”

“Are we that disgusting couple already?” Chris teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist.

“Yeah, we are,” you said before laughing, leaning in to kiss him softly, “but I love it.”

“Good, because so do I.” His laugh was muffled by your lips, causing you both to laugh before kissing again, completely abandoning the ingredients on the island as he swiftly sat you on the counter.  

[taronfanfic]

Fast Forward

Chapter 17

Gemma had been spot on; the light from the hallway had woken you up in the early hours of Monday morning. Taron was creeping in and out of your bedroom, rummaging through your wardrobe in the dark as he tried to secretly pack your bags. You wanted to stop him, to call him back to bed and tell him not to worry because you could pack in the morning, but you knew he’d get annoyed if you got in the way of his plans. You’d bought a new dress to wear, presuming there’d be a nice meal at some point during the trip, and you’d also bought Taron a watch for his anniversary present. A mental note was made to sneak them into the bags in the morning; and instead you lay there hoping for the best as Taron continued to pack in as little light as he thought he could get away with.

It seemed like all of 5 minutes after Taron had settled back into bed before the alarm was sounding out and waking you both back up again.

“Morning gorgeous.” Taron muted his alarm before rolling over in bed to face you with a grin of pure excitement. “Happy anniversary.” He kissed you eagerly as you sleepily accepted his affection.

“One whole year with my favourite person.” You smiled back. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Now you go and jump in the shower and get ready because we’ve got a busy day ahead!”

“Can I know where we’re going now?”

“Nope. You’ll find out when we get there!”

“So how do I know what I need to wear?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll find you something suitable.”

“Suitable?” You questioned as you climbed out of bed. “This is getting weird already… It’s a good job I trust you, T!”

You racked your brain for clues whilst you were in the shower. As far as you remembered Taron hadn’t got your passports in the middle of the night so you were pretty sure you weren’t leaving the country. It was also only one night away so in theory you shouldn’t need much stuff but there were two large weekend bags at the end of the bed so that didn’t add up. By the time you returned from the bathroom Taron was dressed and ready to go. He was leaning on the smarter side of casual, wearing your favourite jacket over a white tshirt, black skinny jeans and his winter Timberland boots. The outfit he’d picked for you wasn’t far off his; layering up a striped tshirt, grey hoodie and denim jacket with your tightest jeans and black leather Converse.

“This doesn’t give much away.” You gestured out to the clothes on the end of the bed as you stood with just your towel wrapped around you.

“Good.” Taron grinned back as he sat at the top of the bed, watching and waiting for you to drop your towel to the floor. It would have been too easy to give him what he wanted. Instead you opened the wardrobe door and pulled out the new dress you’d bought.

“Is there room for this in the bags? I bought it especially.”

“I’m sure I can find space. In a minute.” He looked you up and down deliberately slowly as you took a step back towards the bags and let your upper thigh slide free from the towel.

“It’s alright I can do it, got to get your present in there too.”

“I don’t think so!” He was quick off the bed. “You’re not looking in them until we’ve arrived. Might give the game away, so hand the dress over and I’ll pack it.”

“What about your present?”

“Could always have it now?” He suggested cheekily and you considered dropping your towel to distract him, but decided that maybe handing it over wasn’t such a bad idea. It would start the trip off with something special and save having to find the right time later.

“Go on then.” You pulled the wrapped box from your bedside drawer and perched on the side of the bed as Taron sat eagerly with his legs crossed in the centre.

“I never thought you’d agree to that!”

“You have no idea how difficult it is to say no to you sometimes.”

“I wish that was the case last week,” he scoffed “sorry, that was low. I didn’t mean that.”

“Shut it.” You teased as you cupped his face with one hand and placed the box into his palm with the other before kissing him tenderly. “This is for you.”

An adorably boyish smile filled his face as he looked down and tore the paper off the box, his eyes widening as he saw the gold embossed brand on the lid, and widening further as he lifted the lid to reveal the watch he’d had his eye on for months.

“Oh wow. Y/N you shouldn’t have. This is perfect, more than perfect!” He ran his finger around the edge of the watch face before lifting it up carefully and placing it over his wrist. “You shouldn’t have spent this much on me.”

“Says the one about to whisk me away from here for a couple of days!”

“Mmm, but that’s different. You deserve this break.”

“And you deserve to be spoilt too, so shhh.” Taron kept his silence as he buckled the watch around his wrist and sat admiring it. “Can I be cheesy?” You asked, bringing his attention back up to your eyes.

“It’s our anniversary, this is the day to be cheesy!”

“True… so this present, it’s to remind you of the good times we’ve had, the even better times to come… that time spent with you is my favourite time of all, and that we’re the lucky ones because we have time on our side.”

“God, I love you.” He shook his head with a slight awe before leaning in to kiss you his thanks, two, then three times. “You don’t even need to drop your towel for me now, I’m so happy already.”

“I can always do that too….” You teased as you stood up from the bed and deliberately left your towel behind.

“Fuck, I wish we had time for morning sex.” He moaned as he collapsed back, spreading his arms and legs wide with frustration. “Right, I’m taking the bags down to the car and then grabbing a takeaway breakfast from Kirsty’s so I’ll see you down there in 15?”

“Do I need anything else?”

“Phone, keys and that perfect little bum in the passenger seat on time, please?”

Bang on time you pulled open the car door and picked up the bacon roll from the passenger seat before joining Taron in the front of the car. He was finishing off the last mouthful of his breakfast and then took a long drink of his coffee.

“Ready?”

“Ready! I’ve made you a playlist for the journey and everything. See what happens when you leave me on my own for too long!” Taron grinned as he started the engine and pulled out of the car park.

“You become the perfect boyfriend?... maybe I should go away more often!”

“Hey!”

“It’s kinda true though, not that I went away as a test, but it did cross my mind that it would either make everything ten times better, or ten times worse between us.”

“Things were never bad though, were they?” Taron frowned as he pulled up at the traffic lights and waited for you to calm his sudden worries.

“No, not bad. Just… tense I guess. Or pressured? I don’t know how to describe it. There was an atmosphere that made us bicker and take things the wrong way. I definitely needed a break from that.” You placed your hand over his on the gear stick as an extra sign of comfort and watched as Taron thought back to that time and finally nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want it to go back to that. That’s not us, it’s not how we’re meant to be. We’re the easy going, chilled couple, who are always up for a laugh and a bit of drunken mischief.”

“It was me who messed it up. I got stressed and anxious and couldn’t handle it very well so I’m sorry.”

“It was never your fault. Everyone would be stressed and anxious if they thought their Dad had cancer! Don’t blame yourself, because I’m not blaming you.” He lifted your hand with his and left a kiss to the back of it before continuing the drive out of the city and towards the motorway. You had to look away and out of the window as the thoughts of your Dad entered your mind for the first time that day. He’d be waking up feeling so scared; trying to put on a brave face for your Mum but dreading what was to come. The chemo was still more of a precautionary measure than a necessity, hopefully killing off any last traces of cancer that weren’t removed in the operation, but cancer wasn’t something to be treated lightly. It carried its own weight and that morning it lay firmly on your Dad’s shoulders. As you ate your breakfast quietly, spotting the road signs overhead directing you towards Heathrow, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving your parents in their time of need. You couldn’t help feeling like wherever Taron was taking you wasn’t where you needed to be.

Taglist: @egerton-sweetie  @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie @leanimal90 @anantheminmyheart22 @aynsleywalker​ @bohemianrhapsody86​ @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron @livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover @ohsosmutty@misspygmypie  @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr @baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow @witchymarvelspacecase @samanthasmileys@nellietara @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @wheresmylightinthedark@kurtis-conner@hoe4dior @toky-9101 @mayaslifeinabox@fluentlyspeakingtreason @yallyallblanchett @whiskeylipsx@emmaelizabeth2014​ @primaba11erina @fightuntilyoucan @carlita2025 @rocknrollmadden@walking-stressed-mess @dogmom2014 @aberystwythboy

[artificialqueens]

Perfect Places... a simple song turned to a symphony. (Ninex) - Chapter 2 - Saiphl

A UK tour is happening and also, a story that no one expected to start. Not even their protagonists.

I’m really sorry for the delay on the posting, it’s been a crazy couple of months, but I hope you enjoy this little part of the ride.

Again thanks to Molly, Mistress, Meggie and Sheavelour for giving this little mess a little shape.

============================================================

Interlude. In the Shadows.

an intervening or interruptive period, space, or event

It’s early March and the weather is harsh, even by British standards. The road is hard, especially when you’re travelling in a bus full of crossdressers, sleeping in uncomfortable bunk beds thousands of miles away from home. They’ve been crammed inside the tour bus ever since landing at Heathrow. It would take them to their show in London, then they’d have to pack everything back into their suitcases to continue to the following city.

It seems to them that it’s already been hours since they climbed the bus and hit the road. Many are asleep, light snoring echoes throughout the narrow hallway.

For some queens like Asia, Kameron and Cracker, this isn’t anything new.They have been touring together for some time, as their managers booked them together for the UK tour leg. By this point the three queens are veterans and have gotten used to sleeping, even when standing, whenever they have the chance. Nina knew the tour would be tough on his body and even harder on his mental state.

Jetlag keeping him up, Nina lays wide awake on his bunk long after the show. He has nothing better to do than scroll endlessly through social media The music that plays from his earbuds, which claims to be ‘relaxing’. isn’t helping at all. It is almost four o’clock in the morning, and, according to his iPhone, late night in New York. Not even thinking, he clicks the button.

Monét is organic, both of them easily falling into conversation. They keep talking, their conversation soon muffled by the snoring of the other queens.

Monét is sleepy, his day off from work is nearing its end. He has a flight to catch early the next morning, heading for the south of the continent. They just do some small talk until Nina notices Monét falling asleep, the younger man unable to help the tiredness showing on his face. He had a thousand errands to run in the short time he was home. Nina smiles sweetly at him, a sympathetic smile being the last thing the other he sees that night. Monét wishes him a good tour and sweet dreams, Nina wishes him a good night and a safe flight.

The image fades to black on the screen, and Nina takes his earbuds off to put them safely inside case. A sudden noise catches his attention. He’s sure he hadn’t heard any of the girls in the other bunks make that kind of sound. Silky’s motorboat like snoring makes him lose focus. Nina shakes his head, sliding to the edge of the bunk to listen closer, then there it is again. Muffled sighs, and maybe something sounding sloppy and wet.  Asia’s sleep talking makes the noises stop for a second and the bus drowns in the sounds of the road.  

He saw some of the queens getting cozy and handsy after some drinks, so he couldn’t guess who was the perpetrator. It was well known that when they were on tour, the long travelling and the distance could make a queen feel lonely. Still, this was too early in the tour for them to get thirsty.

By the following morning, most of the girls are whispering and gossiping. Nina doesn’t really care about the details, what catches his interest is that Brooke’s name comes up. The girls talk, read and suggest increasingly unrealistic theories. Nina listens to each, trying to make sense of what he heard the night before. Above all, he wasn’t willing to risk his relationship with Brooke by asking something he’s not ready to discuss.

One thing is sure: Cracker and Brooke got closer, even though they try to fool everyone by sitting far apart everywhere they go. Sure, they banter and play with the others, but something between them has changed. Nina knows it, he can feel how the tension between them grows thicker the further apart they are from each other.

The night of Brooke’s birthday, the whole lineup goes out to party. They drink, they dance, they have a blast of a night off. And Nina can see it clear as day, how Brooke has spent time with each girl of the cast but always, always, ends up gravitating towards one of them. Maybe both of them are gravitating towards each other. A cute British boy, with dark hair and a couple inches shorter than Brooke is flirting with him. Returning from the bar, Cracker freezes at the sight of them on the dance floor. It happens in a millisecond. The beers in Cracker’s hands land with contented fury over the table, a forced laugh spills from his lips, and his face contorts into a smile faker than a three dollar bill.

Cracker excuses himself to the restroom. As he walks away his hands turn to fists in one of the most incredible displays of self control Nina has ever seen. Brooke seems oblivious to what happened until Cracker’s glacial dark brown eyes make him freeze. The cute boy is clinging to Brooke’s neck and he seems to realize what’s happening. At the table, Nina is the first to go after Cracker, the crowd of the bar hindering him when they recognize him and ask for pictures. When he breaks free and looks around again, the cute boy is standing confused at the edge of the dance floor and Brooke is nowhere to be seen.

Around half an hour later, Brooke bids everyone good night and leaves the bar. Cracker never returns from the restrooms. The rest of the girls stay at the bar for a couple more hours, then call it a night and head to the hotel. All the while, Nina’s been texting Brooke, who barely answered his messages. He’s worried. Brooke is one of his best friends and he’s almost sure he’s playing games with Cracker. That was, for sure, a very dangerous liaison. Cracker is friends with Vanjie, and Brooke is the guy who broke Vanjie’s heart despite loving him dearly. Because, Brooke is still in love with Vanjie, isn’t he?

All the answers to his questions come as soon as he arrives at his hotel room. He knows Brooke’s room is just beside his, and he wants to know if his friend is alright, leaving his own birthday party earlier than the guests isn’t his typical behavior. Nina stops in front of Brooke’s door and knocks. It’s ajar. A long sigh can be heard beyond the door.

“You said it wouldn’t happen again”, Brooke whispers, voice cracking in the last word, a sloppy sound muffled behind, then another voice.

“Then… happy birthday, and this is just the beginning.” Nina can’t recognize the voice, it’s so low that he can barely even understand the words.

The mystery finds an answer a second later, when Brooke whispers “Fuck… Max!”. Nina feels like a nasty Peeping Tom, so he carefully closes the door and returns to his room. He doesn’t sleep that night, wondering if he should talk to Brooke, or just play the fool and pretend nothing happened. He decides it’s better to keep his mouth shut and let Brooke speak for himself when the time comes.

Brooke never says anything. Time goes by and the tour comes to an end. They are all in Heathrow, luggage already registered and all saying their goodbyes while they wait for their flights to depart. Nina and Brooke are in the same flight back to LA for a viewing party the following day. Nina is looking for their gate when he sees them.

Cracker and Brooke are standing under the departures screen on the gate B36. The smaller man is holding his left arm with the right hand that crosses his chest, his messenger bag hanging loosely from his small frame. Brooke’s left hand is on the other man’s shoulder; his own a little shrugged. The last call to Cracker’s flight is announced and they look intensely into each other’s eyes, then hug and their lips collide in a kiss that looks both desperate and needy. Nina keeps walking and decides to keep that knowledge to himself.

Monét and Nina are texting, it’s a bit past mid April and they haven’t seen each other in a while. They’re both in opposite corners of the US and those messages have been a luxury they could barely afford. They’re catching up, and Monét casually comments that Brooke showed up in New York. Nina knows Brooke doesn’t have any bookings there, he actually just came back from Toronto and supposedly would take a couple of days off before flying again. Monét drops the subject and Nina is grateful, he doesn’t want to think of the things he heard or saw back in London. He doesn’t want to stir the pot.

Gigs come and go, Nina and Brooke join the last leg of the season eleven tour. It’s the final lap before pride madness. He can tell something’s changed. Vanjie and Brooke are in this final leg and they seem friendly. It’s not the kind of tense friendly that says something’s going on, but the kind of friendly that allow them to be comfortable around each other again.

Vanjie is dating someone else. He learns his name is Aiden, and can’t help but get infected by the Puerto Rican’s joy. His smile is authentic this time.

Brooke is all but bouncing off the walls, the heart of the party, cheering the happiness of his former lover. He’s sober and barely smoking, he dances, banters, and has fun.

He’s happy and Nina can’t help but feel the same for his friend. Another thing that has changed: even though Brooke has always been a flirt, he’s not looking for trade.

If there’s something in this world that Nina knows well, it’s that look on Brooke’s face. The shiny eyes, the goofy smile, the glow on his face when he furiously types messages on his phone. For the first time in over a year, Nina is scared.

He has seen Brooke fall in love as fast as his heart gets broken. He was there to pick up the pieces when Branjie went down. He spent long hours talking to a drunk Brooke on the phone. The Brooke that missed Vanjie but was scared enough to run away when everything got too serious. Nina knows. somehow this is a recipe for disaster and he can’t let his friend fall hard this time.

Rumours start coming and going about All Stars 5, the kind of rumours that put names on the board and tear others to the ground. One of those days, both Nina and Brooke are on one of those extremely rare days off on the final episodes of their season. They’re in Columbus and there’s a bunch of guys trying to snatch Brooke’s attention, and he’s dodging them like a pro.

Nina’s curiosity finally wins over and, not even thinking about it, pulls Brooke to their booth. It takes most of Nina’s efforts to finally get Brooke talking, reluctantly. They have a long conversation. He speaks about what happened in the UK, and how he feels being around Cracker. He says he wanted to surprise him by showing upon his birthday party. Still, Brooke is in clear denial, saying that they’re just exclusive in sex, that nothing’s happening between them aside the amazing sex they have. Nina wants to slap Brooke.

When the conversation is over Brooke has finally admitted he has feelings for Cracker, but he’s afraid to screw that up like he did with Vanjie. Nina tells Brooke that no one that’s not even a little bit involved in a relationship kiss someone that way in an airport gate. Nina would never admit that he knows that by his own experience, he would never admit that he was also falling hard in love.

June went by in a blink, then came July. Nina is exhausted, his schedule busier than ever, and he barely had time to properly make himself comfortable at home. He’s coming back from the Safari in Powell when something catches his attention. At his front door, sitting besides a small carry on and takeout from his favourite restaurant, is Monét.

They haven’t seen each other in months, and even if the facetime calls and the texts are regular, finally being face to face is something they’ve been craving for long.

Monét gets to his feet, his sore body grateful from the change of position. Nina touches his face, a wide smile spreading on his lips  while he leans to kiss the other. Time stops for a second, then they break up the kiss, giggling like teenagers.

They end up tangled on Nina’s living room couch, barely covered by a fleece blanket and lazily making out after one of the best sex they’ve ever had. Monét stays for some days, and Nina feels like he really came back home.

Nina is in the shower the day it happens. Monét is scrolling down on Instagram when he finds a picture of Cracker totally melted on a very tall blonde man on the dance floor of a club. He has to re-read at least three times the comments to actually get what’s happening, he immediately calls his friend. The image on the screen confirming what he just saw on the pictures, and he let the lovebirds know they’ve been outed in social media, which makes Cracker wake up with a jolt, then, they hang up.

Monét runs to the bathroom, cutting Nina’s inspired performance of “A Whole New World.” Nina looks at him, concerned, cuts the water and reaches for his towel looking at Monét’s phone screen, a relieved laugh leaving his body. Monét looks at him, a big question mark on his face. Nina tells him he was there since the beginning, back in that tour bus in London.

[niall-is-my-dream]

I Will Love You Forever

 So I got a bit carried away again today! This blurb of Harry and Alex is when she had moved back to England to be with him.

Catch up below and let me know what you think.

Em x

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/186287708843/we-know-where-we-belong

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/186310151473/ill-wait-for-you

You'd been laying in your bed staring at Alex for a good half an hour. She looked adorable when she slept, her hair swept across the pillow, her head resting on her hand. Your legs were entangled with hers and you couldn't bare to move away.

 It had been three weeks since she had landed back in England. You'd collected her and her four big suitcases at arrivals at Heathrow, your coat collar pulled up and a hat on. No one had taken any notice of you which was exactly what you hoped for.

The four weeks she'd been gone back in Australia were torture. She went back and packed up her apartment there, finished up at work and came straight back to your house as soon as her plane had landed. You'd invited her to live with you, permanently as your girlfriend. Finally after all these years you could call her that.

Since she'd been back you had spent time making your place hers as well. You brought new linen for your bed, choosing it together like a proper couple. Your evenings were spent curled up on the sofa, her legs across your lap as you both read. 

Christmas time was upon you and a week after she arrived back you went to pick your first Christmas tree together. Wrapping up against the cold you headed out of the city to the countryside to choose one. You'd never bothered much before, always working right up until you went back to your Mum's for the Christmas holidays. But this year was special, you'd finally got the love of your life with you.

Over the next few weeks she settled into her new London office while you were on a well deserved break after a year of touring. Cooking for her had become your favourite thing. Greeting her when she came back from a long day in the office with a glass of wine and a home cooked meal.

Last night had been no different, except after dinner she retreated to your shared bedroom to finish packing for your trip back to Holmes Chapel tomorrow morning. She had ten days off to celebrate with both your families. However, neither of them knew you'd begun a relationship. Alex had told her Mum that she was going to live at yours in your spare room as it would easier and safer than living on her own.

You both wanted to live in the bubble of the new relationship without the pressure of your Mum's. They would both be excited that you had finally got together, but the early stages of a relationship were different with Alex. Having known each other all your lives, you had both said you were worried about how the shift in your relationship would go. Both of you agreeing that you didn't regret starting anything, but that you wanted to savour every moment and feel no pressure to conform.

In fact you had slotted into a relationship with complete ease and it had shocked you both. So, with the way things were going you were going to tell your families at their annual Christmas Eve party at Alex's parents house.

With both your bags packed ready for the morning you offered to run Alex a bath, she looked shattered. Work had been full on for her since she had arrived back. A huge contract that she was managing was both tiring but also really exciting and rewarding. As she sunk in the tub full of bubbles you headed downstairs to get you both some wine.

 "You getting in too?" She asked you as you handed her the glass.

 "I can do if you want me to love, I don't mind sitting on the floor if you want the tub to your self?"

 "No, I'd rather be in here with you actually." She smiled.

 "Don't need to ask me twice." You replied as you stripped off and sat at the opposite end of the roll top bath.

 "Mmmm this is much needed." She said as she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

"How's work going?"

"Good, but so busy. Glad to have a break from it all."

"Are you nervous about telling our families tomorrow?"

 "A little bit!" She laughed as she sat up to take her glass off the windowsill.

You watched her as she took a big sip before placing it back down.

 "How about you?" She asked.

"I reckon they already know. My Mum keeps asking me questions." You replied.

"Yeah, my Mum does too."

"Well, this time tomorrow we will be telling them."

"Makes it even more official." She said.

"It does." You replied reaching for her hand under the bubbles and pulling her towards you.

"H!" She cried out as she landed in your lap, the water splashing over the sides.

"Just wanna love on you a little bit." You mumbled as you nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck. She wriggled around on your lap as you tickled her neck with your stubble.

"Stop tickling me!" She giggled, as she turned around in your lap.

"Well, what can I do then?" You whispered, and she reached for your hand, guiding it towards her centre.

********

Lying here looking at her now, you were wondering if you could just hide away in your home for the next ten days. Eating your body weight in Christmas food and Quality Street chocolates. You reluctantly got your self up, pulling on some joggers and a t-shirt as quietly as you could.

Switching on the radio as you entered the kitchen, you started the coffee machine as the Christmas tunes started playing. You had an hour before you needed to leave. It was a 3.5 hour journey back to Holmes Chapel and you said you'd be there by lunchtime.

Making a coffee for you both, you headed upstairs to find Alex just stirring.

"Morning." You said placing the coffee on her bedside table and leaning down to kiss her.

"Morning." She mumbled sleepily.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, got to leave in an hour." You said.

"Ok, I'll drink this and then jump in after you." She replied.

An hour later and you were in the road. You were expecting quite a bit of traffic, people all heading off to work or home to their families. It was a long enough journey anyway so you hoped it would be plain sailing. Alex had packed some snacks and drinks, the car loaded with presents and your luggage. You were surprised the car could even move it was so full.

When you drove past the town sign you breathed a small sigh of relief at being home. Taking Alex's hand in yours, she gave yours a squeeze and you glanced at her, a massive smile on her face.

"Nearly home love." You said.

You headed straight for Alex's parents house, choosing to drop her off to spend some time with her family before heading over with yours later for the dinner party. Pulling up on her drive, you put the car in park. Spotting her Mum Angie in the kitchen window, you gave her a wave.

"There goes my chance of a cheeky kiss before you get out the car." You said.

"Plenty of time for that Harold." She replied smiling.

You had seen her Mum just six weeks ago when every one had come to your show, but you hadn't seen her Dad Tim, since you visited Holmes Chapel in the summer. You'd gone to their's to have drinks with your Mum one evening, a chance to catch up since you were back home for a couple of days. It had been awkward for you since it wasn't long since your trip to Australia where you had done incredibly dirty things with their only daughter.

It didn't feel awkward this time, even though you'd fucked that only daughter in your bath tub last night. Maybe it was because since you'd seen them last, you and Alex had made the commitment to each other. Either way it felt natural to hug her parents and talk about how the drive had been on the way up.

Angie offered you some lunch but you decided to head off to your Mum's knowing she would be worrying if you were any longer. Alex offered to walk you out while her Mum busied herself in the kitchen and her Dad took her bags to her room.

With her parents out of sight she pulled you close, a hand cupping your cheek and kissed you goodbye. Each of you whispering I love you's and I'll see you laters against your lips.

Later when you were all seated at Angie and Tim's dining table you realised you'd never felt more comfortable and content than you did in that moment.

Tim stood up to make a toast to remember Robin, and then to his delight at Alex finally being home, you knew this was where you belonged. Her family and your family together like it had always been since you were babies.

Taking Alex's hand in yours under the table you gave it a squeeze and she looked your way. As her Dad sat down, Alex stood up. Everyone looked her way, anticipating what she might say. When she told everyone that you two had embarked on a relationship everyone cheered. 

Lots of "I knew it's" and "I told you so's" which made you both laugh. Apparently everyone had assumed that something was going on between you two. 

Then your Mum decided to tell everyone about how you'd cried when you'd found out that Alex has gone to the Year Ten disco with Jacob Stubbs. You cringed at the story, but Alex had leaned over and given you a kiss.

Tim cracked open the champagne and everyone celebrated your news. Both your Mum's had huge smiles on their faces and you could see them already mentally organising a wedding.

Later when you managed to get Alex alone in the kitchen, you pulled her to you and she wrapped her arms around your neck. 

"I love you Alex Connelly, I've loved you since I was 13 and I first saw you in that little red bikini." You said smiling.

"I love you too Harry Styles and I wish you'd taken me to the Year Ten disco."

"I wish I had to." You whispered back. "Lets sneak upstairs and do some experimenting in your bedroom again, for old times sake."

[tripindicatorweb-blog]

Berlin in February is Fantastic, But Can Be Very Cold

We had been thinking about going to Berlin for a few years and with the twentieth anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down later this year decided we must make a booking.

We had seen a comment in Simon Calder's travel page in The Independent on Saturday about flying there and decided to fly to Tegel that is the closer of the two to the city centre. This meant flying with British Airways and using the new Terminal 5 at London Heathrow.

Our flight was due to go out 8.45 on a Thursday morning in mid February. Fortunately the heavy Berlin Tv Tower Tickets  snow that covered a fair part of the south east of England had now gone, however snow was forecast for Berlin.

We checked in online and were dropped off at terminal 5; we immediately joined a fairly long queue for BA's "Fast Bag drop off". This modern airport appears to have a very slow system whereby you queue for a long time as we did, you are looking out then for the next available check in person who does not process modern technology like they do in banks and many department stores - a system of a number appearing so you go to that check in desk. No, instead there is a helper who comes and goes and either the check in person waves to that BA employee or to the next person looking for a free check in assistant.

Once you have cleared this you must hurry to security and again join another long queue. If you get delayed here you are warned you could miss your flight! Eventually we got through security and were able to explore the wonders of Terminal 5. A fine modern warehouse style glass and metal construction full of shops and restaurants. Does an airport really need such a shopping centre like this, there seems to be a lot of wasted space. It seems like BAA and BA are concentrating too much in leasing out spacious retails zones, whereas had the check in and security areas been larger and a lot more efficient then the terminal would be more efficient.

What a contrast when you arrive at Berlin's Tegel airport. The airport is in the western part of the city and as we got off the plane we were going through passport control within a couple of minutes and collecting our baggage five minutes later.

This airport is a hexagonal terminal building around an open square and this for walking distances as short as 30 metres from the aircraft to the terminal exit. Inside there are numerous shops and restaurants, they difference to Heathrow's terminals is that they are open to people flying out or anyway waiting to collect visitors.

There are small duty free (or cheaper shops for alcohol, cigarettes and perfumes when you go through the various gates, but it looks like there are individual security and passport controls for the individual gates and so as you have got through these you are in small lounge with the small "Duty free" shop and a snack bar and just a few metres from the aircraft door.

Unfortunately Tegel is destined to close in 2012 when the enlarged Berlin-Schönefeld Airport is due to re-open as Berlin-Brandenburg International Airport in 2011. I hope that their design is modeled on Tegel opposed to the Heathrow style terminal buildings.

When we touched down although there was some snow in the surrounding area there was none at the airport and we took a taxi to our hotel, It was very cold not even 1 degree, but dry. The Hotel Augusta is situated in Charlottenburg area in the west of the city, near to Zoo. It is a very pleasant small hotel offering bed and breakfast and as it located in a couple of older buildings, it has very spacious rooms with high ceilings that have been very tastefully modernized.  We had our slightly out of date Rough Guide and in late January.The Independent had run a brief article by their travel writer Simon Calder on his experiences visiting Berlin in January 1999 a few months before the wall came down in November, looking back on that visit plus one of their brief guides "48 hours in Berlin". Armed with this information we set out and decided the best way to get an overview of the city on a cold Thursday afternoon was to take a guided tour on the Berlonina sightseeing double decker bus. There are few companies operating these tours and you can normally pay for the complete circular tour and hop off one bus at a given point and then hop on another.

We got off the bus at the Daimler Chrysler building in Potsdamer Platz and paid to take the express lift to the rooftop viewing gallery. Great views of the city from this point. Back onto the bus again past the only remaining section of the Berlin Wall, through Checkpoint Charlie and up past the Brandenburg Gate and the Reichstag (Parliament building).

We got off the bus where we had got on originally and walked down the Kurfürstendamm shopping street to the KaDeWe department store. This magnificent 100 year old establishment was very warm and inviting as early evening approached. Visiting the top floor restaurant and bar complex with views over Berlin was fantastic; however going down a floor to the food floor was unbelievable. There are numerous small food bars serving food and drink in amongst the vast selection of produce you can buy. This is a place to visit and stay a long time in if it was a wet day in Berlin.

Across the road from the Hotel Augusta is a great place to relax and enjoy the atmosphere. Reinhards bar and restaurant. Here you will find all the staff smartly dressed in long white aprons and outside as was typical of several bars and cafes, the normal tables and chairs, with a folded blanket on each chair.

The next morning following a buffet breakfast we set off to find an English speaking tour of Berlin. The contact and guide were outside the Zoo Station at 9.45. No one else had turned up that morning at the western meeting point for Original Berlin Walks. Our guide who was half German and fluent in English took us on the train to the east meeting point at the Hackescher Markt. Fortunately there was another couple there, so the tour went ahead. This is a four hour walking tour costing EUR12 per person and worth every cent of it. The same company also runs a selection of other tours, some of which take place in Greater Berlin.

It is a great way to see the sites, have history explained and ask questions. We saw the remains of the wall in the centre close up and where the wall once was there are now two rows of cobbles.

We walked through the Brandenburg Gate and past the Reichstag and onto the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (Holocaust Memorial) sculpture and the location of Hitler's bunker. By the end of the tour we had seen all the famous landmarks, many of course we had seen from the bus the previous day including the famous east Berlin Television Tower that constructed under communist rule and had to be shorter than its counterpart in Moscow. It has a rotating restaurant and we were told has some exceptional views, but you don't want to go up there if it is too cloudy.

Our guide told the same story as in the "What to see" section of 48 hours in Berlin from The Independent. When the tower was constructed, crosses off churches were removed by the East German Government. Whenever the sun shines on the globe of the tower, a perfect cross appears and this is known as the "Pope's Revenge".

We stopped for a snack in another of those delightful Berlin cafes complete with blankets on the outside chairs and carried on walking and attempted to get back to our hotel for a station near Checkpoint Charlie. A very helpful Berliner saw us studying our map actually when back down onto the tube station, travelled out of his way to put us back on the correct line. It is very important to pick up a DB BAHN map for the S+U-Bahn-Netz from any station opposed to relying on the small scale version reproduced in many tourist publications. The underground system is very efficient and there are only trams in the East Berlin.

Saturday was Valentines Day. Although there were a lot of flower sellers about and shops were full of Valentines gifts, it appeared that restaurants did not have special dinners at inflated prices that you would normally find in the UK and Ireland.

We started off with breakfast at Reinhards. Most people were having long breakfasts and they offered a choice of German, English, Australian and New York American. Those having breakfast were drinking a glass of champagne say we did as well.

The breakfast set us up well for the cold day ahead and like the day before was also bright and sunny. We walked down the Kurfürstendamm to the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtniskirche Memorial Church and then took the underground to visit the DDR Museum. Both our walking guide and the Independent feature suggested going there. It must be fairly new as it was not in the 1998 edition of the Rough Guide which proves, you do need to buy up to date guides when you go travelling.

The DDR Museum is quite small and portrays life in the former Democratic German Republic (GDR). You are encourage touching the exhibits, listening to the music and see the TV of the era and the largest exhibits are a typical apartment layout from a concrete slab housing estate and an original Trabi that you have to try and start.

We then moved onto the Berliner Dom, the catherdral and headed up towards the Reichstag. We had to queue for three quartes of an hour and it was cold. However oncwe you have got past the security, you are whisked up by lift to the roof abnd can walk around the glass dome desidneg by Sir Norman Foster. There are spectacular viws of the city from up there and of course as it is the Parliament and all citizens (and visitors) are welcome to see their Parliament working, trhere are no admission charges.

The evening ended with a nightcap at Reinhards and we caught the bus into Tegel airport in the morning. The journey takes about 30 minutes and like all the public transport we experienced was very inexpensive. Apparently most Berliners depend on it and approximately only a third actually own cars.

Overall the city  See More..  has a lot of unemployment and unlike Munich, Brussels, London, Rome and other similar cities there are not lots of very expensive cars about. It did not seem too expensive staying in Berlin and eating and drinking. There are of course luxury style hotels and restaurants and there certainly appears to be an excellent selection about.

Berlin is a city that is very cold in winter and very hot in summer. The best time to visit is around April or late September. Enjoy your stay in Berlin, we did.

[tomhollandaminute]

Airport encounter || T.H

Summary: You’re on your way to Los Angeles to meet up with your family, however, London traffic is not so sure if it wants to cooperate. 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Words: 2255 (yikes)

Warnings: Not edited, too emotional, cursing, a bit slow in the beginning(?), I switch POVs throughout the story (sometimes you’re with Y/N, sometimes you see things from Tom’s POV)

A/N: Hehe, not sponsored by Marvel. Kind of sad, but very much true. 

"No...No... Nonononono, nooo!" Y/N looks away from her phone as the words 'IRON MAN WINS' 'K.O.' displayed on the screen. Not handling all her masters being knocked out, she left the game and turned her attention towards the driver. 

"Sorry, I tend to get quite enthusiastic when I play. Have you tried Contest of Champions yourself?" She asked the cabbie, who just shrugged in response.

"Oh, well, you should. It's this really cool game, where you're a Marvel character and you fight other Marvel characters, and... and it's just really cool! I started a few days ago, and I'm a complete addict," silence.

"So what's your name?"

"Stephen"

"Can I call you Steve?"

Silence.

"Great!"

"We're here, miss, Heathrow Airport. That will be 90 £" The grey man turned to look at the young girl in the back seat.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm late!" Y/N searched her purse for her wallet, once she found it, she quickly pulled up two fifties, and gave them to him.

"Thanks for the ride, Steve!" She said quickly before she headed out and ran past the big crowd that she didn’t even address.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Stupid, slow, revolving doors," Y/N tipped on her toes. She had approximately 20 minutes to get herself through the heavily trafficked airport, to her gate, and onto her departing flight. '3, 2, 1... go' and she was off. However, it didn't take long before Usain Bolt had to stop, because before her, might have been the biggest queue to the luggage drop ever.

"Oh fuck me," 

Tom could finally breathe. His tense body relaxed. He was inside the cab, and the only thing he could hear was the faint sound of the radio and the voices of the three others inside the vehicle. 

“Heathrow, please,”

Despite being exhausted for waking up so early, Tom always got some kind of adrenaline rush when he saw the happy faces of his fans waiting for him. So when the cabbie pulled over, and they had paid, it didn’t take him much effort to put up a smile when he walked out.

“Man, should’ve thought that Heathrow at 6 would be quiet, eh?” Harry said. "Yeah, heard some crap actor was gonna be here," Tom laughed at his brother’s remark. 

“Can’t believe this is happening to me, I can’t believe this is happening to me, I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Y/N continued her mantra as an attempt to calm herself while she rapidly shook off her jacket and took off her shoes.

“Miss, we need to ask you to keep your shoes on until you’re further in front of the line, please,” a security woman named Minnie told her. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! But Minnie, you see, my flight is boarding in ten minutes, and I’m in a bit of a rush, and I– I’m just really stressed!” The elder woman saw the desperate look in her eyes and nodded, understanding the situation. 

"I see, let's get you through here quicker then, miss, follow me," Y/N did as she was told, and picked up her shoes. 

"I really appreciate this, you see, my day started off quite good, had a delicious croissant for breakfast, but then because I had so much time, I ended up stressing out of my apartment to the cab. And there was just so much traffic, you can't believe it! I thought it would be quiet for an early flight, but I guess not!" Y/N laughed when she realized Minnie wasn't going to say anything. “Sorry, my mum keeps telling me I rant when I’m nervous,” Make that all the time. 

It took her two minutes before Y/N parted her ways with Minnie and the rest of security. Before they could ask her for a car to drive her to the gate, Miss Bolt had put on her running shoes and was tens of meters away.

It was incredible how much an airport lounge could calm a man. And yes, the effect was twice as effective this early – so effective that Sam had to wake Tom up they wouldn't miss their flight. "I can't believe you actually fell asleep, mate," the brunette laughed.

"I can't believe you didn't! Man, how can you not sleep under such relaxing circumstances?!"

"Such relaxing circumstances? " Harry didn't even try to hold back his laugh.

"Oh sod off, Harry!" Tom pushed his brother, but before Niki could interfere, the airport announcement cut them off.

"Flight UA883 to Los Angeles is delayed by 2 hours,”  and that was when Tom saw her.

Y/N's legs were killing her. Running through the whole terminal along with a rather heavy bag hanging on her shoulder was not to recommend. 'Why couldn't you just wake up when you were 'posed to eh? Then this wouldn't 've happened!' She kept cursing at herself, the next step more torturing than the other. 

Finally, Y/N was there. She was out of breath, but she was there, and she would make it, and she would see her family, and she would–

"Flight UA883 to Los Angeles is delayed by 2 hours,”  

“Are you joking with me?!” Y/N was now immune to any embarrassment. This was insane! Had she just run a blooming 5K marathon for nothing?!

"Stupid traffic, stupid early flight, stupid sleep, stupid everything!" Y/N murmured frustratedly as she trudged over to one of the empty seats. 

When she sat down, Y/N quickly pulled up her phone to update her dad: 'Bloody plane's delayed. Ran 100 miles to catch a fucking delayed plane. 2 hours delayed!' Reading what she had sent to her father, Y/N quickly added: 'Sorry I am furiously enraged by my sad cock-up situation'

After scrolling through all of her social media-feeds, as well as telling all of her friends about what had happened to her in way too many pity-fulled snaps, Y/N re-opened Marvel Contest of Champions. 

"Oh fuck off, not this as well," Y/N muttered, remembering her best master was knocked out.

'Spider-man it is then,'

"Are you joking with me?!" He saw a beautiful figure tramp over to some empty seats, and all he could do was wondering what this incredible woman was like.

"Hey movie-star, you alright there, mate?" Harry made out a laugh when his brother didn't answer. 'Who are you?'  It didn't take the two to figure out who their big brother was giving all his attention to.

"Just go over there, talk to her!" Sam nudged Tom, and Nikki looked around to see who they were talking about.

"I can't do that! She probably won't even like me!" The twins just rolled their eyes at Tom's statement.

"Well you can't just stare at her and not do anything, man, that's kind of where the line between being a stalker and interested goes..." But Tom just diverted his eyes away from the Y/H/C and to his friends.

"I'm don't understand what you're talking about, I'm not staring!" He gave away a nervous laugh and brushed his hair away from his forehead. That statement just made his friends laugh more though.

"Piss off!"

"Well that's not entirely true, Tom," Nikki said, "just go talk to her, use your charm!"

"What charm?" Tom had lost all confidence.

"Go over and just say hey, dude, you're Spider-Man for Christ's sake!" Harry said, but Tom just shook his head. 'You can do this. You're cool, you're spider-man. You're Tom holland! Just go!' And then he was off.

"You have a Marvel game on your phone?" She suddenly heard from the side. Needing to pay attention to her screen, she didn't even look at him when she answered: "Yeah... YES!" She won. Thoroughly happy with herself, the Y/H/C haired woman did a little victory dance in her seat.

Tapping her way further into the mission, Y/N yet again skipped the conversation between Spider-Man and Black Panther. She had a bad history on big spoilers, but was it one movie she did not want to get ruined, it was Avengers: Infinity war. Some would say she was stretching it a bit far. Y/N called it being procacious.

"Why do you skip all the chats?" She heard from the male beside her yet again.

"I don't want any spoilers," Y/N answered, upgrading her masters before their next fight.

"Would've believed the probability for that in a Marvel game would be rather small eh?" the man continued with a little chuckle, getting fascinated by the woman next to him.

"Well, you sort of learn not to trust Spider-Man with keeping secrets nowadays," Y/N looked up to address the man she had been talking to.

"Oh fuck, you're him! You're Tom Holland!"

"Well, you sort of learn not to trust Spider-Man with keeping secrets nowadays," Tom didn't know if he was relieved or didn't care that she already knew who he was.

"Oh fuck you're him!" Her surprise amused him so much he couldn't hold back his smile. "You're Tom Holland!"

"I am," he grinned "well, now that you know my name, darling, I only find it fair that you tell me yours," the girl didn't react at all, her eyes were still just as wide, her lips still apart.

"Uhm, Y/N, I'm Y/N Y/L/N," it finally came out of her. "I'm sorry, it's just that, you're Tom Holland, and I've wanted to meet you since Civil War, and you're just making me really nervous!" 

For some reason, knowing this calmed Tom's nerves. It was nice to know such a beautiful girl could feel the same jitters that he had. "Me too! You have no idea, my brothers almost had to push me over here to you,"

Y/N's eyes lit up, it was weird talking to someone she had watched on YouTube and movies. 'Shit, it's been silent for a while now, should I say something? What the fuck do I say to a guy that I feel I know everything about?' 

"Are you also going to LA?" 'nice, Y/N!'

"Yes, I am,"

"That's right! The press tour for Infinity War is ongoing! How could I forget, I literally cried when I found out the world premiere would be the night I landed!" Tom's cheeks started to hurt, but he didn't care. How had he not met this wonderful woman before?

Y/N looked hopefully at him, and Tom got nervous. 'Shit did she say anything? How could I miss her saying anything? What do I do?!'

"Tom? Are you alright?" His heart melted when her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Hm? Oh yes, sorry, what did you say?" Y/N laughed. Oh God, her laugh. It might have been the most beautiful thing he had heard in his life.

"I asked you how it has been seeing the world! You know, I envy you so much. All I dream of is travelling and exploring new places, it's literally the reason as for why I'm in uni and taking my degree," 

"Oh, it's amazing! I'm so thankful for getting to do what I do, and I just feel so privileged, you know? I have this job that I love, and I get to meet all these amazing people... But what about you, what do you study?"

Tom didn't want to talk about himself. He answered questions for press and interviewers all the time, and even though he found it super cool and nice that people were interested in him and his life, he wanted to know you better. 

“Oh, it’s probably going to bore you, it’s not really that interesting. My life’s shamefully dull compared to yours, I mean, you hang out with Robert Downey Jr! The RDJ!”

Tom shook his head at this, how could anything that she did, be boring? “I find that very hard to believe. What I am sure of on the other hand, is that your life must be very interesting, I’m very interested at least,” 

“I find that very hard to believe. What I am sure of on the other hand, is that your life must be very interesting, I’m very interested at least,” Tom was making it really hard for you not to just melt then and there. How could a boy your age be so nice?

“Want to switch?” Y/N laughed. 

“How about you start selling it to me before I agree to anything?” Tom laughed too, and then she started telling him everything. Y/N told him about where she grew up, her childhood friends and embarrassing moments. She talked about her life in a way a narrator would tell its story. Tom was hooked.

Suddenly, two hours were up. The plane was boarding, and Y/N and Tom were out of time.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"Can we do this more times?" Tom asked, afraid this was the last time he would ever see her again. 

"Talk?" Y/N tried her best, but failed to mask her happiness. He had liked talking to her too?

"Yes, and maybe hang out other places than airports?" The number of butterflies in Tom's stomach grew by the milliseconds of Y/N's silence. But then she gave him that beautiful smile, and all his butterflies flew away.

"I would love to do that, here's my phone number, hit me up whenever" Y/N took a pen and wrote the digits on Tom's hand before she kissed his cheek and fled.

At that moment, Tom didn't care for the yelling that was to come from Judi. He had gotten Y/N Y/L/N phone number. And she had kissed his cheek good bye. A goodbye for now.  

A/N: Oh God, I haven’t written an imagine for so long (check out my retired blog @so-flashtastic for some of my previous works;)), and I’m honestly kind of sad for how badly this was written. I think it’s because this is my first Tom-imagine, so I don’t know how to write from his POV. Let’s just call his lines and scenes a work in progress, yeah? Well, I hope I didn’t lose too many readers along the way of this piece, so please give me a chance? 

[alliebruns-blog]

The Namibia/Panama Crossings - Man vs Table Mountain, Day 7

Coming back to the real will after being in what was essentially semi-solitary confinement for 5 days was weird. We were all in a sort of daze at the cars and shops and people of Swapkomund. Having a proper shower was the best thing ever. We were all completely exhausted. That night we went out for dinner with the crew and then slept, before getting up and attempting to sort out our filthy, sand and mud covered kit. I would like to apologise to whoever had to clean those rooms. After stuffing it all into bags the best we could, we headed out for the tiny airport and caught a (very delayed) flight to Cape Town, where we would spend one night before attempting the big 3 - Signal Hill , Lions Head  and Table Mountain 

The idea was to see how long it would take us to get up and over all 3 on foot (spoiler - it took me over 5 hours). This time, the victims were just Darren and myself - Dani and Jim made the genius decision to take the time to recover, and handsome Pete had to head home - so apologies for all the rubbish pictures. My personal photographer had better things to do. The idea was to get up early and start the run and then head straight to the airport to catch our flight back to the UK where we would have 6 hours to wait before out flight to Panama. In that time we would have to swap out kit - we had left our Panama kit in the back of Jim’s car at Heathrow. We were going to try and dump the Namibia stuff we wouldn’t use, and pack the essential Panama kit we needed. Hectic right? 

The thing about air travel is that unless you are travelling in business it is NOT conducive to recovery after these huge runs. Every flight is painful. Trying to sleep while your legs ached and pinged, worrying you would not get enough rest to be able to attempt what was coming next. I would go as far as to say the flights were actually part of the challenge. Especially when they hadn't changed the film choices. 

At dinner the night before the run, we discussed the route. We were to head up and over Signal Hill, up and over Lions Head and then up to the top of Table Mountain and get the cable car down. It was over 6,000ft of elevation across 9 miles on very tired legs, up hills with my favourite things in the world on them - ridges. Ridges and drops. I tried to block out this thought by drinking wine. That was the sensible thing to do. 

The next morning Darren and I set off after breakfast, along roads and straight up the worlds longest steps. They weren’t  ACTUALLY the worlds longest, they just felt like it. 

And so it begins......again......

I was already NOT HAVING NICE TIME. There are no proper paths up Signal Hill - you sort of scrabble up and I didn’t like it at all. To be frank, Signal Hill is a bit of a shit show on the edge of Cape Town. There are NO tourists there, loads of littler and it feel like the sort of place I used to go and drink Strongbow when I was 13. I was tired and scared of the ledges that were up ahead of me. Once at the top, there was an amazing view of Lions Head and Table Mountain. As beautiful as it was, I was still bricking it.  I decided there and then I was not going to get too the top of Lions Head - I would be too scared and it wasn’t worth it. It’s important to know your limits, and and I know that getting up there would mean nothing to me except a possible panic attack and having to be rescued. I would go as far as I could, and then loop round and come down. I didn’t need to stand on the top of a tiny rock to prove anything to anyone. 

Signal Hill from the bottom of Lions Head 

Lions Head and table mountain in the background

It was a beautiful day with amazing visibility, and Darren was loving it - he’s a big fan of rocks and ridges - and this just made me feel even more shit. Why couldn’t I be more like him? Why did I have such an issue with drops and ledges? I felt like a total idiot. I felt, once again, like I wasn’t good enough. I let Darren run on ahead of me like a fell goat, and I plodded on feeling like Mr Blobby at a Crossfit session. I tried to take in the views, but at the back of my mind I felt like a bit of a failure. 

Camps Bay from halfway up Lions Head 

Some nice, “technical” trail.....

The trail up to Lions Head starts very friendly and lovely, but soon turns into craggy rocks on the edge of a big hill. There are people coming down towards you as you go up - I hate this - and so I focused on the floor. I imagined all the tourists laughing at me huffing my way up in running gear. Every now and again, I would look up at the view whilst leaning on the solid side of the mountain to avoid the possibility I might throw myself off. It was both mesmerising and terrifying. I probably got about 500 ft from the summit before I stopped and hid on a ledge for a bit. I waited for Darren to come back down for 10 mins, but them decided to make my own way down and head up Table Moutain. I had stupidly run out of water and it was very hot. 

Views alright though......

The trot down was a lot easier - the paths were wider and they were runable but my legs were shattered and running hurt. How the hell was I supposed to do another 300km on them? At the bottom of Lions Head, I crossed the road the saw there was a tap that was dripping water, so I filled up my flasks and started to try and find the trail up Table Mountain. At this point it all looked a bit like the New Forest, and after a few false starts I found the trail that would take me up - and joy of joys it was ALL steps. ARGH! STEPS! 

Table Mountain trails 

I was totally on my own now, and I felt better for it - I could take it at my pace and get on with what I needed to do - and that was get to the top. I could be as slow as I wanted, as long as I got there. This is a reminder that you are the one that judges yourself, and yes it is easier to do that negatively when other people are there, but ultimately you have control over your thoughts. The flora and vegetation were beautiful and I decided to try and enjoy it - and for a little while, I did. 

There were some amazing bushes and flowers and hardly anyone else on the trail. I met a good few lizard friends, some of them bright green and red, some of them blending into the rocks. The path up to Table Mountain is steep - steeper than Snowdon - but loops round, with little waterfalls everywhere and places to sit for a minute. And then the sheer drops start.

Hullo?

Spot the lizard.....

Regular readers of this blog (all 3 of you - hi mum!) will know that I have this stupid fear of heights and drops. I have tried and tried to get over it - most notably last year when I had a near meltdown on Arran. I don't know what it is about them, but I am terrified of big drops, narrow paths and cliff edges. I feel like I am going to either fall down or throw myself off. I have to use my hands to guide me, stare at the rock face and not look down. It’s ridiculous. The thing about being halfway up Table Mountain when the ridges start is you can’t do anything about it - you either get to the top or you go back. And I was NOT going back. Because that would mean looking down. The funny thing is, looking back on this as I write it, the vertical scrambles seemed like the hardest thing the world. They were, on reflection, simply a tasty warm up for what was to come in Panama. 

Some of the ascent featured vertical scrambles up rocks - I used my bands and tried to control my breathing and be nice to all the people coming down the other way. I tried to make funny jokes with them, but my voice sounded weird. I was hungry now - really hungry - and because it had been billed as 9 miles I hadn’t bought anything to eat with me. The hunger and anxiety bought on the shakes. I’m a fucking idiot sometimes. As I turned a corner I could see the cloud was coming in - sweeping the top of the mountain, and I was headed straight for it. Suddenly I heard my name being shouted from behind me - it was Darren. I could have sworn he was in front of me?? He had been doing parkour or some shit at the top of Lions Head, and so WAS actually behind me and he had FOOD! He stopped and checked to see if I was ok (I wasn’t), chucking me a few shot bloks  and a bit of cliff bar (noms) and then trotted off ahead of me - like the fell goat he is. In my head I had thought I was near the summit - turns out I was still an hour away and now I couldn’t see the summit. All I could see was cloud.

Staring up into hell.....

I dealt with the next couple of miles by counting steps, resting when I could and trying to stay calm. I wished I had bought my headphones. Eventually, the vertical scrambles stopped and I realised I was at the top. In the cloud. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and was convinced I was going to fall off the edge. The top of Table Moutain is of course, flat. I was not going to fall anywhere. There was no edge.

Finally at the top. 

Cloud hiding the imaginary edge 

I followed the path until suddenly the cloud completely cleared and I could see the cafe and cable car at the top. Thank fuck. I had done it - I was there. I met up with Darren and went straight to the cafe for a rehydration beer. I met some of the locals who live at the top of the mountain - the dassies - fun little animals that look like a cross between a gerbil and a beaver. They lounge around on the rocks at the top. They are funny. They are brave. 

Gah! Lassies!

View from the top.....

Cable car down......

What is also funny (or not) is the way I processed what I had just done. I didn’t congratulate myself for getting there, I beat my self up for how long it had taken me and what a total wimp I had been. I managed to take some photos from the top, and did a little ‘positive vibes’ video for the Bad Boy Running lot, but ultimately, my overall feeling was disappointment in myself for not having done it better. I was tired, physically and mentally from the previous week, and possibly (no shit) irrational at this point, but I just felt massively disappointed with myself. I still sort of do. 

We got the cable car down and met up with Jim and Dani who droves us and our sweaty, disgusting selves to the airport. We were due to fly from Cape Town back to Heathrow and I need a shower. BUT there was a water shortage in Cape Town so all the showers at the airport were switched off. The thought of sitting on plane for 10 hours in this state made me want to cry. But superhero Jim to the rescue - he managed to smuggle both me and Darren into the business class lounge for showers and food. 

So that was it - goodbye South Africa. Man Vs Table Mountain is definitely worth doing if you like that wort of thing. Believe me, I will go back and do it again. I will keep doing the things that scare me until they don't scare me anymore. That might mean I am doing them forever, but so be it. 

The plane arrives and I sleep for the full 10 hours home.  Which is good because shit is about to get really, really real. 

Pretending to have a nice time at the top of Table Mountain. 

[abandntravels]

The final day. 3 Sept to 5 Sept 2022.

The final day is always hard and always long. Saying goodbye to Grandad is never easy and there are always tears, but we had Saturday morning to get through before we reached that point.

I was up at my usual time, I wanted to get a final run in around Fourfields, and then a walk with Mum – in my head I thought if I was physically tired it would help with getting some sleep on the plane. No cows around Fourfields but the glass and reeds were wet, the stinging nettle had a bit more sting in it than the first time around – I think the cooler weather and the dew in the morning has been a enough for them to ‘charge’ back up. Only did one round of the Walls with Mum, so just under7kms done before breakfast. This was the final run for my shoes, having taken them over knowing they were at the end of their ‘life’ – yay running shoes shopping to do when back in NZ.

Mum and I hit the market after breakfast and packing bags (I have manged to get everything in including my hand luggage bag into my check in luggage, so just the small travel backpack to take on the plane with my laptop and the pretty glass jug and bowl in it (thank you Fran for the lunch box, it is the perfect size to protect the glassware). Only fudge purchased from the market for Grandad (yes I did taste test a piece before giving it to him). Back to base for a coffee and a spot of shoe cleaning for Mums trainers.

We then went to the Wareham museum, as it seem better than just sitting around staring at the walls and each other thinking about how sad saying good bye would be. Museum is interesting and does give a good overview of Wareham town history. A lovely lunch of mashed potatoes, sausages and of course a last serving of fresh runner beans and carrots followed by an apple crumble – with ice cream. We headed off about 2:15pm to meet Jos and Steven at the Sir John Barleycorn (SJB) corner. The original plan was for Grandad to come up with us to Heathrow, and then Jos and Steve would drop him back at SJB corner but it seemed a big ask and a long day fpr Grandad and it doesn’t really matter where you say goodbye, so we had G&P drive us up to SJB corner and hand us over to Jos and Steven. It was hard and very sad, and there were a few tears.

Drive up to Heathrow was uneventful, a stop at the services for a cuppa and then Jos and Steven dropped us off. We were slightly early for check in but by the time the line got us to the check in desk check in for our flight was open. All documentation in order – no problems with completing the travel declaration and uploading Mum vaccination cert on the cell phone (either things have improved significantly or some people just can’t follow instructions) – of course I had a done the travel declarations well ahead of time. Now more waiting, but we managed to have good browse of some shops and part with some money – really thought I needed to get Nick something from the UK.

Got a middle and window seat for the London to Singapore leg, which was great so much easier for me to curl up against the wall and sleep, we both managed quite a bit of sleep on this flight - I only watched one movie and read a bit of my book – currently reading Stormcrossed Magic by TJ Green – which is awesome (Tracey love you writing).

We had a 4 hour wait in Singapore airport, we saw some orchids, goldfish and cacti, got in 45minutes of walking so I could close the exercise ring on my watch, has yummy danish and a good coffee (which was a surprise as it was a push the button job on the machine). Thank goodness the danish and coffee were good, it I wait about 20minutes in line for them, the place was so busy and only had one person serving – the man in front of me was getting very frustrated.

Non-eventful flight to Auckland but sadly lacking in sleep this time for both of us, which is never a good thing. Our flight was on time into Auckland but sadly it took nearly 1.5hrs for our baggage to come through, if there hadn’t been new bags still appearing on the belt and people from our flight hanging around we would have thought our bags were lost. Having hurried off the plane and looked like fools fast walking to get in front of people it was frustrating to see time ticking past and missing our connection to Wellington. Once our bags did arrive, we joined a queue for biosecurity – slow moving line of course. Biosecurity is currently on steroids, I get the whole concern re Foot and Mouth from Indonesia but we had only been in the UK and transit through Singapore airport. But we had to open our bags, show them our food – chocolate, coffee and my cutlery set from Tesco because it was made from bamboo and Mums trainers got another wash because they had been on farmland in the UK. When Nick and I came back from the UK, when they actually had Foot and Mouth disease there, we didn’t face the same level of inspection, so an interesting contrast. We then had to join the x-ray line – thankfully sailed through this. But by this time we were cutting it fine to make the check-in for the flight AirNZ had moved us to, so a mad walk to the airport bus to take us to domestic, we missed the check-in cut off by 2 minutes, so we got put on to the next flight to Welly. Even if we had made it to check-in we would have struggled to get through domestic security to make the flight.

So having tried to be relax about the domestic connection, knowing that because it had all been booked on one ticket we would just get transferred, I was still very grumpy about all the delays, some of which really made it feel like NZ wasn’t ready for visitors or travellers. I am convinced there was only one person unloading bags from the flight. But we had about ¾ of an hour to wait, so it was time for a coffee and a few minutes to calm down. Getting back into NZ and getting from Auckland to Welly was probably the most stressful part of the holiday.

[haroldslovekitten]

Meet Me in the Hallway - Pink Series pt. 6

Sorry for the super long wait, loves! I hope it’s worth it! I got a little carried away with this one, it’s about twice as long as the others. I hope you enjoy! .xx -M

Word Count: ~9k

It’s two days until the wedding and Harry is waiting outside your apartment, car running, waiting for you to grab the necklace you almost forgot. His fingers thrum against the steering wheel anxiously. He knows how horrible of an idea this is, but when he sees you bounding out of the apartment, a huge smile on your face as you hold up the necklace triumphantly and hop into the passenger seat of his car happily, he knows that whatever happens, being with you for this will be worth it.

“I can’t believe I almost forgot it,” you say, slightly out of breath.

“Let’s see it then?” Harry asks, curious as to what made this necklace so special.

You hold it out to him, a small locket with a fake diamond in the center hanging from a thin silver chain. When you pry it open, he sees a picture of you and your sister when you were about 10 years old and she was 14, huge grins on your faces as you play dress up, both of you conveniently dressed as brides. Harry takes the locket from you gently, looking closer at the picture and ignoring the flip in his stomach at the thought of what you’d look like in a wedding dress now. When he turns the locket over, an inscription on the back reads “Sisters by chance, best friends by choice.” He chuckles slightly when he reads that, it being so very cheesy, and you pout, taking the necklace back from him.

“Hey, we were kids, ok? It didn’t sound silly then!”

“I know, s’just cute,” Harry says as he pulls away from the apartment and towards the airport.

“Whatever. Anyway, thanks again for coming with my, Harry, I really didn’t want to go alone…”

“Would never make you go alone, love, you know that.”

The ride to Heathrow is a pretty quiet one, you falling in and out of sleep as you lean against the window and Harry plays his favorite classic rock station quietly. Harry glances over at you when he can, the little snores leaving your lips tugging at his heart strings and making him desperate to call you his. As you get closer to Heathrow, Harry struggles to decide when to tell you how he feels, really truly tell you. It’s never been easy for him to open up completely, but he knows he’s suffered in silence for far too long. He wonders if telling you before the ceremony, maybe while on the plane, would be best, If he did, and things went well, then you could actually go to the wedding as a couple, or almost like one since you’d still technically be with Connor. But, if he tells you and things don’t go well, if you don’t feel the same way, then the wedding would be awkward and painful for you both, and he’d inevitably end up ruining what should be one of your favorite memories. If he waits until after the wedding to tell you, he definitely misses out on one of the best opportunities to be close with you in a romantic way in a romantic setting, but he ensures that he doesn’t completely taint your thoughts of your sister’s wedding if things go badly. If he waits and doesn’t say anything, he can at least still have those wonderful moments at the wedding as your friend. Just because you’re not dating, or haven’t admitted feelings for each other doesn’t mean you can’t flirt and dance. It doesn’t mean he can’t hold you close and let you know, in much more subtle ways, how much you mean to him. He can be your best friend without ruining the moment, and as much as he wants to be more, he fucking loves being your best friend. Ultimately, he decides that waiting until after the wedding, after the ceremony and reception, but while you’re still on your mini-vacation will be the time to break it to you. That way at least he gets it done with, gets his feelings out in the open no matter how difficult that might be, and he doesn’t potentially ruin the wedding for you in the process.

When you get to the airport, Harry takes all of your bags, despite your protests, he pays for your checked bags and insists that it’s all his treat, you don’t need to worry about a thing. Getting through security is a breeze as the security officer recognizes Harry and lets the two of you through in a jiffy. When you board the small private jet, your eyes go wide at the luxury of it all. The seats are huge and comfortable, though this jet doesn’t have a bed, the chairs recline nicely and the plane is stocked with all kinds of food, drinks, and blankets to get comfortable. There is a couch on one side and you happily plop onto it, making yourself comfortable and pretend snoring as you settle in. Harry laughs and sets your carry on bags down on a chair before taking a seat on a recliner rather far away from you. He doesn’t really want to challenge himself by lying cuddled up with you for 12 hours when he knows he loves you and has no clue if you feel the same. you, no the other hand, have a different idea. Though you continue to pretend snore, you peek one eye open and see him sitting much too far away.

“I’m cooooold,” you whine, scrunching yourself into the couch.

“Here’s a blanket, love,” he laughs, throwing one to you and it hits your smack in the face, only making him laugh harder.

“Heeey,” you whine more, pouting at him. “Don’t want a blanket, that’s not warm enough. It’s a long flight,” you say, patting the open space on the couch next to you.

“I think I’m good over here, love,” he says, not making eye contact with you, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Come on, you don’t want to cuddle? You always want to cuddle!”

Reluctantly, he sighs and moves over to you, sliding onto the couch next to you, both of you laying lengthwise and cuddling close. He turns away, obviously wanting to be little spoon, but you refuse.

“I wanna be little spoon, I’m sleepy and cold and want to be cuddled,” you poke and prod at his lovehandles until he groans and gives you just what you want.

“You know I’m always little spoon,” he grumbles, turning and wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you securely between himself and the back of the couch.

You are sandwiched nicely in a soft warm space and given how early you had to get up to make the plane on time, sleep is not far off.

“Missed you so much, H,” you sigh into his hand which you’ve gripped and pulled up to rest just below your chin, making you feel even more secure.

You pepper kisses over his knuckles, not thinking about why, not addressing the feelings in the pit of your stomach that motivate you to pull him in as close as possible and press as much of your body into him as you can, leaving your lips resting against his hand as you begin to drift asleep.

Harry, who had definitely planned to sleep a bit while on the plane, lays there wide awake, breath tight and controlled as he does what he can to pretend to be calm, to pretend to be relaxed, but feeling your entire body pressed against his, your sleepy sighs running over the skin of his hand and arm, feeling the way you nuzzle closer every few minutes as you fall further asleep, his mind is reeling. As the minutes pass, the ache in his heart only grows and when you’re finally fully asleep, he allows himself to feel everything he’s feeling - the overwhelming fondness for you, the need to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, your hair tickling his nose, but he doesn’t mind, because he gets to be this close to you, feeling the warm softness that is one of your most intimate spots. He lays a chaste kiss against your shoulder and takes a deep breath. He’s not going to be able to last the entire wedding weekend without spilling his feelings if you keep acting like this, acting like you want and need him just as badly as he wants and needs you.

Though the level of stress in his body is off the charts at his inner battle, he does eventually fall into a restful sleep by your side, your closeness calming him in the same way his calms you. The flight has very little turbulence, and it almost feels as if the two of you are just napping at his apartment.

After a couple of hours though, you wake up before he does, wiggling around and turning towards him. He is fast asleep, his mouth dropped slightly open as he breathes softly. There is not a single tense muscle in his face, his almost eternally furrowed brows are relaxed, a tiny bit of drool collected at the corner of his lips and you can’t help but think he looks much like his 16 year old self in this moment. You reach up and trace the line of his eyebrows, gently rubbing the spot between them that usually holds so much stress and loving the smoothness of it beneath your fingers. You push back the urge to kiss his parted lips like you’ve done so many times before. You’d had a handle on these feelings for years, almost to the point of feeling as if you didn’t feel anything slightly romantic towards Harry anymore. 

When you first became friends, the crush was almost unbearable, but slowly you’d convinced yourself that it would never work. On the one hand, he’d never be interested in someone like you over the likes of the women he’s been said to have dated. On the other hand, you’d never be able to handle being his girlfriend anyway. The amount of publicity, the hate, the responsibility, the need to be absolutely perfect at all times and be okay with massive amounts of your personal life being broadcasted to the public, none of it appealed to you. It’s part of the reason you wanted to write movies, not star in them - you needed to stay relatively anonymous, out of the public eye, that’s how you liked it. And lastly, being with Harry meant that if it ever ended, you’d probably lose him forever, and that was an outcome you just couldn’t risk. So, like you’ve done countless times before, you suppress your urge to kiss him. Instead, you nuzzle into his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head and your lips inches away from the sensitive skin just above his collarbone, but you refrain from making contact with it. Harry stirs beside you, pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a half asleep kiss to the top of your head. You’re not sure if he meant to do it, if it was just a natural action in a dream-state, and it’s not like he’s never kissed your head before, he’s a very affectionate person, especially while drunk, but something about this moment feels even more intimate than any of the ones in the past.

Both of you finally stir enough to actually wake, and you stretch beside him, hoping to put a little distance between the two of you, and it seems like Harry hopes to do the same as he sits up, swinging his legs off the couch and stretches himself. Though there is now only a foot or two between you, it feels like miles as Harry stares out the plane window, watching the clouds drift quickly passed. He runs his hands over his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes and looks back at you, giving you a half-hearted smile.

You look soft and warm on the couch, smiling up at him, and he’d never tell you, but he’d been dreaming of you. Even as he lay there next to you, hugging you close, he’d dreamt of you in this exact situation, only rather than close friends, you’d been so much more. In his dream, he would’ve been able to kiss you right now - to look down on your sleepy face and press his lips against yours. In his dreams, he could be everything for you - he could be your best friend and the love of your life, and awaking to find he was only one of those things was slightly jarring.

“Want a drink?” he asks, voice rough and gravelly with sleep, but needing any excuse to grab a breath away from you.

“Sure,” you chirp, voice also groggy.

He makes his way to the back of the plane, and whips together two cups of tea, making sure to put extra sugar in yours. He hands you your cup and takes a seat on the recliner from before, still looking out the window rather than at you.

I gotta get better, gotta get better

Harry’s mind is foggy as he thinks about the situation he’s gotten himself into. He feels like he’s stealing these moments with you, these moments that used to seem so normal, so pure and friendly before he knew he loved you now seem like precious gifts that he doesn’t deserve, that he’s taking without any right to them. He has no right to hold you close for hours, to kiss your forehead and nuzzle his whole body into yours, but he does. And he’s going to spend the next weekend with you, drinking, dancing, cuddling, being everything a boyfriend should be, without actually being your boyfriend.

I walk the streets all day, running with the thieves.

Harry sees you curl up with the blanket out of the corner of his eye, and his heart breaks. You’re sitting there, cuddled up with tea he made, a blanket he gave you, on his private jet, reading a book and being the literal incarnation of his dreams and you have no idea what you do to him.

He does what he can to shift the thoughts from his mind, going through emails, scheduling time in the studio, even watches a movie on his laptop, but every once in a while, his eyes involuntarily drift to you and he knows this is going to be the hardest weekend of his life.

When you finally land, Harry couldn’t be happier to no longer be trapped in an enclosed space with you, and not because he hates being close to you, but because his self-control is seriously waning. He knows that he almost whispered that he loved you as he was waking up from the nap, knows that the words were on the tip of his tongue, his mouth even beginning to form them, and while he’s usually a very resolute man with tons of self-control, you throw all of that out the window. Your mother, Deborah, and sister, Alice, are waiting for the two of you at the gate and his heart clenches when he sees the way your face lights up when you see them. You haven’t been home in over a year and the way you run into their arms only makes him love you more. Your family is nearly as sweet as you are, welcoming him with open arms, asking him about his career and saying that it’s been far too long since they’ve seen him. 

It’s remarkable how well he fits in with them, and the fantasy of what having them as in-laws only fans the flames. When you all pile into the car, you and Harry take the back seat, and you insist on taking the center seat, though there is only the two of you in the back. He can’t tell if it’s because you want to be able to see both your mother and sister better or if it’s because you want to be closer to him. Either way, he’s stuck there, his leg pressed against yours, your elbow resting comfortably on his knee as you chatter with your family over the radio playing softly. As they’re talking, a song comes on the radio that makes Harry freeze. His eyes go wide and he blushes almost immediately as the first chords of What Makes You Beautiful reverberate in the car. Your sister whips her head back to look at his embarrassed expression and laughs.

“Oh god, turn this shit off!” she says dramatically, laughing when your mom gasps and cranks the volume.

“I love this song!” your mom laughs and starts singing along. Harry can’t help but laugh at you and your family as you all sing along horribly, being extra dramatic for his sake. When it comes time for his solo in the song, you poke at his ribs and nod encouragingly. You always love to hear him sing and even though the rest of the world pretty much feels the same, your adoration feels like nothing else. Reluctantly, he starts to sing, slowly getting more and more into it until by the end of the song, he’s joined the rest of you in belting out the lyrics. Harry’s always been a people person, so it isn’t shocking that your family gets along with him so well, but the level of comfort he feels is somewhat strange to him. He’s never really treated this way by ‘normal’ people. Other famous people get it and can treat him normally, but having non-famous family recognize his fame and yet treat him as a lifelong friend is beyond refreshing. He doesn’t forget either, that your sister was not at all surprised when you lied to her and told her you were in love with him and getting married on a dare, so knowing that she may be on his side in this whole ordeal definitely helps his nerves, at least he might have someone who supports him.

The first night is, of course, your sister’s bachelorette party since the wedding is the next day. Though you live in a small town, it’s not too far from Vegas, and that’s where the group of you spend the first night of this mini-vacation. First, you all swing by your house and drop off your luggage and mother, and then head to Vegas. While bachelorette parties are usually strictly female only, Alice begs Harry to come along, determined to have him get you all into the best nightclubs and bars. So, you, your sister and her friends, and Harry make your way to the hotel they’d rented out, a 45 minute drive from your house, and get dressed up for the night. You, of course, look stunning in a little black dress and your makeup done up like Harry rarely ever sees it. You don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your body from head to toe and your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You look stunning,” he whispers to you as you grip his arm and walk out the lobby towards the limousine already filled with your sister’s half-drunk friends.

Harry struggles to keep his hands to himself and knows that it’s going to be even more difficult as you get drunk and all the men of Vegas start checking you out. He supposes that as painful as it’s going to be to be around you like this, it’s better he’s here and can ward off any unwanted men than if you were to be going alone. As you drive towards the nightclub, the drinks are flowing, the laughing is deafening, and Harry can’t keep his eyes off of you as you interact with your sister and old friends you haven’t seen in forever. You’re louder than he’s ever seen you, more happy and carefree and he’s ecstatic to be able to witness this side of you. When the limo finally arrives at the club, Harry gets you all in immediately, and even gets you taken to the VIP room. There, you are all free to dance and drink without the leering men slobbering all over you and Harry likes it much better this way. For the most part, Harry sits back and observes, loving how free and happy you all seem and feeling great that he could contribute to that, even in the smallest sense. You’re nearing drunk now, and you’ve never been a particularly good dancer, but at this point you don’t care, and Harry holds back giggles as you squirm around on the dancefloor with your friends. You catch sight of his stare and practically run over to him, nearly tripping over yourself as you do.

“Come dance with me!” you slur, grabbing his hand and pulling him hard.

“Alright, alright, needy little thing!” he laughs, stumbling onto the floor with you and glad the room is private enough that he feels comfortable doing this.

He bops around happily with you, twirling you to the music and laughing when you grind on him exaggeratedly, being ridiculous and silly. Though you’re being intentionally outrageous, Harry can’t help but let his mind wander as you wiggle around him, running your hands over his body and your own and attempting to be overtly seductive. When you press up against him, chest to chest, and through the thin fabric of your dress and the silk of his shirt, he can feel that you’re not wearing a bra, and your eyes look into his without hesitation or shyness as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and run your hands through his hair, moving against him with a content grin on your face. His breath hitches as you press up against him and it feels as if the air has been sucked from his lungs. What was moments ago playful and silly now feels entirely too sexually charged for his liking. 

You lick your lips as you maintain eye contact with him, seemingly oblivious to the effect you’re having on him. Harry throws caution to the wind and pulls you close, moving his body with yours in time with the music, relishing in the moment. Yet again, the thought that this could be real, that in some universe, you could want him the way he wants you plays in his mind and for this moment, he pretends that it’s real. He leans in towards you, resting his forehead against yours, but not going any closer than that, afraid you’ll be scared off. He lets his hands wander a bit more greedily than he would in any other circumstance, squeezing your soft hips and resting his hands on the swell of your ass, testing the waters. You giggle when he does that, but don’t move away. You just give his hair a gentle tug and continue to dance blissfully. His thoughts turn sinful quickly, and he tries to ignore the way his pants get slightly tight and his skin feels hotter than it did a moment ago. He tries to ignore the way your lips pout and glisten with alcohol, tries to stop thinking about how they’d taste. Your hair falls into your face and he reaches up, gripping it in his hand and brushing it away, letting his fingers linger buried in your hair. Your eyes flutter up to his and for a moment, he’s positive you’re thinking the same thing as him. You glance down at his lips, mere inches away from yours and the nibble on your bottom lip is absolutely involuntary. He breathes heavily, leaning ever closer to you until you’re a breath away from touching. You close your eyes expectantly and that’s when he’s sure, absolutely 100% positive that you want this. 

Just as he leans in to bridge the tiniest of gaps, your sister squeals loudly, bumping into the two of you and breaking the tension. You both look up in shock, blushes painting both of your faces to see what’s going on. After a moment to tear yourself out of the little world that had been created between the two of you, you see that the private male stripper your sister had insisted you order has arrived, fake cop costume and all.

For the rest of the night, you remain occupied with your friends and Harry keeps a safe distance. He’s much too sober to have almost done something that foolish. He hopes to god that you are drunk enough to only hazily remember what almost happened so that it doesn’t ruin the weekend. Part of him wants to go back to the hotel, avoid the temptation and just shut himself in, but he knows that you’re only going to get more drunk, that you and your friends will probably need someone to make sure they make it home okay, and as painful as it is, he’s glad he can be that person for all of you. He finds himself a nice spot in the corner of the room, pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself while the party continues. You continue to dance and giggle and have fun with everyone and he struggles to keep his eyes on his phone. As the night drones on, he notices that you’ve stopped drinking. You’re actually much more sober than he’d thought, and your eyes keep glancing over to meet his. He’s never known the level of panic that is currently forming in his gut as he realizes he just might have to address what happened on the dancefloor with you. When everyone else is thoroughly drunk and having a great time, you make your way over to Harry, sliding down next to him on the comfortable loveseat. You rest your head on his shoulder, curling into him without a word.

“You good?” he asks, his voice coming out slightly warped from having been silent for so long.

“Mhmmm,” you hum, nodding gently. “You?”

“Doing great!” he says enthusiastically, but you don’t miss the tightness in his voice.

“Thanks for coming out tonight, you really didn’t have to.”

“No, it was fun! Glad you’re all having a good time!”

“We are! I’m...um, I’m sorry there’s no one here to like, flirt with or hit on,” you mumble so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear you over the music.

“Why you sorry about that? I don’t need to be flirting with anybody,” he laughs, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah, but like, it’s Vegas, and you’re Harry Styles, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. What are you trying to get at, pet?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t want you to miss out on finding someone because I’m always around,” you pout.

“Hey, I’m not missing out on anything, alright?” he says, hoping you don’t pick up on his true meaning.

“Okay…”

“Come on, love, go have fun with your sister. Night’s almost over anyway, right? Go enjoy the rest of it You and I can dance the night away tomorrow night to cheesy old songs, tonight is about your sister and you!” he insists, pinching and prodding at you until you get up and resume dancing with everyone. You throw him an appreciative glance and for the rest of the night, you let all your cares and worries about Harry and about Connor slide away and just enjoy yourself completely.

When it comes time to go home, Harry decides to be the most polite he can, calling the limo back, ushering all the ladies inside, making sure they each have a bottle of water and that they haven’t left anything at the club.

When you’re all finally back at the hotel, Harry makes sure everyone gets to their rooms safely and then follows yo uto yours. Until now, he hadn’t really thought about the sleeping situation in the hotel. You hadn’t expected him to come when you booked the room, thought he’d be staying at your parents house while the ladies went out, so when the two of you walk into the hotel room with a single king bed, the awkwardness is palpable. Harry tries to play it cool, he really does, but when you clear your throat and ask him which side of the bed he wants, he almost can’t control his breathing. He’s shared a bed with you before, he’s no stranger to sharing hotel rooms with women either, but the thought of curling up next to you, having established sides of the bed, potentially waking up with you wrapped in his arms after a full night’s sleep is a bit too much to handle.

“I’ll just take the couch here, if you’d prefer,” he says.

“Don’t be silly, Harry, we’ve shared a bed before, come on,” you laugh a little nervously and set your phone down on the nightstand on the right, claiming your side.

You grab your pyjamas and head to the bathroom to change and take off your makeup, and once the door is closed, Harry runs his hands over his face in frustration, sitting on his side of the bed and taking a few deep breaths. He can do this. He can get through a night in bed with you without doing something ridiculous. You’re best friends for god sake, it shouldn’t be so hard to be around you like this. With a shake of his head he bites the bullet and undresses, slipping off his clothes until he’s just in his boxers and climbs into the bed, pulling the covers around him so that you don’t see his nearly naked body. Again, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before, but right now, it feels so different, so much more meaningful, and he’s just not ready for that, especially not when he knows you have no clue how hard this is for him. When you step out of the bathroom with your hair up in a bun, no makeup on your face, in a little tank top and short shorts, he does everything he can to keep his eyes off of you, but he steals a few glances here and there as you climb into bed beside him. He lays on his back, arms clenched to his side in an effort to avoid contact with you. All that is foiled though when you scoot closer, grabbing at his arm until he lifts it around you and holds you to his chest. You rest your head there contentedly, the feeling of your face against the bare skin of his chest overwhelming.

“Did you have fun tonight?” you ask, your breath fanning out over his chest sending goosebumps across his skin.

“Yeah, it was a blast!” he says, shortly.

Why are you doing this? How are you okay all cuddled close to him without a thought of it meaning something more. Maybe he was wrong earlier, maybe you didn’t want to kiss him. Maybe you really do only look at him platonically and that’s why this comes so easily to you.

“Good. I had fun too,” you say and he can feel your cheek move as you smile.

You fall asleep almost immediately, and Harry, surprisingly, falls asleep soon after. All of these emotionally overwhelming situations have really tired him out.

When the morning finally comes, the two of you are spooning once again, but this time Harry is the little spoon and his heart lurches when he wakes to feel your arms wrapped tightly around him, your breath on his shoulder as you curl your body to fit around his as much as possible. As badly as he wants to stay curled up beside you, it was the loud knocking at the door that woke him. He slides out of bed as gracefully as possible and makes his way to the door, rubbing his eyes as he opens it and sees Alice staring there, an appreciative look on her face.

“Well hello there!” she teases, glancing down towards Harry’s underwear unabashedly.

“Oi!” he grumbles, grabbing a magazine off of the nearby desk and covering his previously unnoticed morning wood.

“Have a nice night?” she asks, letting herself in to the living room area of the suite.

“Yeah, loads of fun!” he says, still half-asleep.

“Yeah, but like a nice night?” she pushes smiling.

“Hey, you know it’s not like that,” he growls, finally understanding her implication - he can’t help it, his brain is a bit slow in the morning.

“Sure it’s not! You can’t blame me for asking, I’m about to get married! All that fun spontaneous loving is almost over for me!” she laughs, plopping down on the little couch. “So, when are you going to tell Y/N?” she looks at him inquisitively.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, his stomach dropping as he realizes where this is going.

“You’re so obviously in love with her, when are you going to tell her?”

He’d forgotten how pushy Alice could be after spending so long away.

“Shhhh, come on, stop fucking with me,” he growls, glancing back towards the bedroom and thanking god he can still hear you snoring from inside. “She’ll hear you.”

“Come on, Harry, just tell her. I saw the two of you last night. She loves you too, I’m sure!”

“Has she told you that?” Harry asks, his heart quickening in an almost dangerous fashion.

“Well, no, but I can see it in her face. Just talk to her!”

“Alice, I don’t know how. What if it ruins everything?” Harry asks, finally breaking down, glad that he has someone he can talk to about this.

“Harry, you’re the most important person in her life right now, there’s no denying that. Sure, she likes Connor, but we both know that’s not going anywhere. You two will work it out, I’m positive,” she says, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go wake my maid of honor and get this show on the road!”

Without another word she goes in to wake you and Harry is still just as conflicted as he was before. Perhaps she’s right, perhaps you do feel the same way. Maybe he actually can get everything he’s ever wanted.

He hears you whining as Alice opens the curtains and wakes you up abruptly with no regard for your slightly hungover state. Harry walks in, throwing on the pair of basketball shorts he brought before going over to you and trying to wake you in a slightly more gentle fashion.

“Come on, love, big day ahead! Here’s some water,” he hands you a glass of water and shoots a glare at your sister that you’re too sleepy to notice.

Alice just smirks, shakes her head and walks out of the room shouting a “We’re leaving in 20 minutes!” on her way out.

“Here, take some aspirin. I’ll get your clothes.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you say groggily, simply happy that you have the best best friend in the universe.

When the two of you are finally dressed and packed, you meet your sister and friends in the lobby and pile into your parent’s SUV. Everyone else in the car is happy and loud, much too loud for this early in the morning, but apparently they can all handle their liquor well. You pout sleepily and curl into Harry, grabbing one of his big hands and putting it on one ear while the other presses to his chest in an attempt to block out all the noise. He’s always known you weren’t a morning person, but this is a whole new level of adorable. He simply holds you tight, hopefully making the car ride slightly easier for you. He enjoys these few minutes because he knows that once you all get to the house, he won’t be able to spend basically any time with you until the reception. So for now, he holds you close and tries to be content with just this.

He realizes just how right he was about not seeing you all day when the minute you pull up to the house there are already 8 cars outside and relatives milling about wildly. You and your sister jump out of the car and immediately get to greeting them, going inside and making coffee, entertaining the guests while the bridesmaids and your mother put finishing touches on the decorations, discuss last minute issues with the caterer, the photographer, and who knows what else. As much as Harry loves weddings, the chaos that ensues beforehand is definitely not his favorite. He manages to catch eye contact with you for a brief moment amidst your duties and he simply mouths ‘upstairs’ while pointing upwards to let you know that he’s going to go relax in your room and escape the craziness. You nod and mouth ‘sorry’ before immediately returning to your duties as maid of honor. 

When he enters your childhood bedroom and shuts the door, things get much more quiet and he can relax a bit. He looks around, smiling at all the pictures you have hung up from when you were little. There are even quite a few pictures of the two of you together strung up around.  pulls one off of your bulletin board to get a closer look. It’s from around the first time you met, the two of you are on the couch of the old tour bus, Niall is out of focus in the background doing something ridiculous, but the two of you are chilling calmly on the couch, his arm around you, huge smiles on both of your faces. He goes to set it on your bedside table in order to take a picture of it for himself, but it slides off and flutters to the ground, and he sees writing on the back, when he picks it up again, he sees it’s just his name, except you’d gone and drawn hearts all around it. Not just one, but several, scattered around the back of the picture, each drawn with care. He laughs, snaps a picture of the photo and puts it back, going on to look at a few others you have up. Each one, he picks up, takes a photo of on his phone for his own safe-keeping and looks at the back. Each one has his name surrounded by hearts again and again. It’s cute really, he knew you had a crush on him when you two were this age, everyone did, and it’s honestly endearing to think about you sitting there and meticulously drawing hearts all over these photos. But as he looks at all of them, he can’t help but think back to what Alice said. Maybe you do love him, and have just been really good at hiding it all these years. Maybe his confession will actually go over well, just maybe.

He spends the rest of the day helping around the house as much as he can, making sure the backyard is spotless and decorated perfectly for the wedding. He helps your mom with guests and all of the arrangements, fitting in to the clan as if he’d always been a member of your family. He’s so busy helping everyone and then getting himself ready that he doesn’t even get a chance to see you all dressed up before it’s time to get everyone seated and start the ceremony. He sits in the audience next to one of your aunts, who won’t stop gawking at him of course, and waits anxiously to see you all dressed up and happy. 

The backyard is decorated perfectly, flowers and twinkle lights everywhere - completely picturesque. As the music starts to swell and the audience goes quiet, he turns around towards the house and watches as one by one, the bridal party pairs come out together. When you walk out, a deep blue dress clinging to your curves, hair done up simply, and eyes shining with excitement, he makes eye contact with you and it feels like he can’t breathe. He starts to get a small idea of how grooms must feel when they see their bride to be step out looking absolutely stunning and knowing that they are going to spend the rest of their lives together. For Harry, that’s just a far off hope, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. In fact, he is so enamored with you and your smiles and tears of joy and just radiating beauty that he barely even notices the rest of the ceremony as it happens. Though you’re focused on the wedding, you glance at him when you can, shooting him a happy smile that makes his heart melt. He’s happy because you’re happy and at least for these few moments, the fact that he could potentially destroy everything you have in the next few days doesn’t seem to matter, because for once, he has the confidence that it will go over well, perfectly in fact, and in no time at all, it’ll be the two of you at the altar.

Soon, it’s time for the reception, and time for Harry to be able to spend some time with you again. Once you’ve helped Alice change into her reception dress, you make your way downstairs and the the makeshift dance floor on the grass. Harry is already there chatting with some of your family and he absolutely lights up when he sees you.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” he says, really meaning that you, you were beautiful.

“I’m so glad it went so perfectly!” you say excitedly.

“Has there ever been anything you’ve planned that hasn’t gone perfectly?” he teases.

“True,” you respond, laughing as you grab his hand. “Dance with me!”

It’s a command he can’t refuse and so he begins twirling you around the dancefloor, other guests joining in until the dancefloor is nearly full and there are drinks and laughs all around. The music is old and cheesy, just like wedding music ought to be, and Harry is having the time of his life laughing and dancing with you. When it is time for the bride and groom’s first dance, everyone clears the floor, and there is practically nod a dry eye in the house. As the song (At Last by Etta James - a classic) continues on, more and more people join in, until couples young and old crowd the floor. 

You and Harry both look at each other awkwardly, until finally Harry laughs, jerks his head towards the dancefloor and raises his eyebrows in question. You agree happily, no idea of just how much this moment means to him as he pulls you onto the dancefloor and holds you close. Butterflies are in his stomach as you rest your head on his chest and your palm relaxes into his. He sways the two of you back and forth, content with you pressed against him and even though the entire party is staring adoringly, it feels as if you are the only two people who exist, and Harry is on top of the world. Though he hasn’t confessed his love to you yet, he feels as if you already know, you’d have to after all these years and the way you’ve been acting around each other. His confidence is high, just like he’s used to it being, and for once, he doesn’t feel scared to tell you, to bare his feelings out in front of you, and so finally, he does.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head just like the one he’d done on the plane ride over.

“I love you too, H,” you say contentedly.

“Y/N, no, I’m in love with you,” he says, a smile building on his face as the relief of having finally told you fills his body and he feels like a king.

He feels so good, so happy in fact that he almost doesn’t notice the way you tense up in his arms. Almost.

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, your voice quieter, weaker now.

“Yes,” he replies confidently, leaning back to look at your face.

The expression there is far from what he expected. He expected a smile, tears of joy maybe, or at least some semblance of the relief he is feeling. Instead though, your eyes go wide in terror and confusion, your face goes pale, and you look at him in disbelief before letting go of him and speed-walking away towards your bedroom.

His stomach drops, it feels like he’s fallen from the tallest building. Just moments before he was on the top of the world, finally free to love the woman of his dreams, and now, he’s tumbling down into a pit of fear and confusion as he chases after you.

“Y/N?” he calls, following you upstairs and to your bedroom.

You don’t bother to close the door behind you and he lets himself in, closing it quietly before walking closer to you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“You can’t do that, Harry,” you say, your voice shaking. “You can’t.”

“Do what? Be in love with you?” he asks, fear filling him.

“Yes! You can’t be my best friend for years, the most important thing in the world to me, come to my sister’s wedding and then tell me you’re in love with me!”

“Why not? I am!”

“No, you’re not!” you yell, tears properly streaming down your face. “No you’re not, Harry. If you were, you’d never have brushed me aside the entirety of our friendship. You’d never have made it so blatantly clear that we were friends and would only ever be friends. You’d never have forced me to hide and then change my feelings for you until I wanted nothing more than friendship. I’ve loved you for so long, Harry, and I’m finally free of it.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” he asks, coming closer to try to hold you, but you squirm away.

“I’ve finally learned how not to love you. How not to be broken-hearted every time I saw you with a new gorgeous woman. I’ve learned how to not expect anything more from you than friendship. And most of all, I’ve learned how to love other people instead of you. Do you know how hard that was, Harry?”

“You’d loved me all this time? I mean, I knew you had a crush on me, but like...love?” Harry asks, still trying to wrap his head around what you were saying.

“Yes, Harry. I loved you. Loved. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, learning to unlove you, but I did it, and it’s done. I did it because I couldn’t hurt like that anymore, and I did it because I couldn’t lose you. Please don’t do this, don’t make me lose you…”

“Why would you lose me, Y/N? I love you, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, a year ago, sure! But I’ve grown, and now I know that we’d never work, no matter how badly I’ve wanted that in the past. You’re my friend, Harry, my best friend, and I know that if we tried this, tried to make it work, it would never be right. I’d always feel inferior, out of place, like some sort of charity case. And being your friend, I don’t feel any of that, you make me feel incredible and happier than I ever knew I could be, but making us more than that, it would ruin everything, Harry. Please, please understand. Please say you don’t want anything more than friends, because that’s all I can offer you,” you say, and though Harry doesn’t fully understand, he sees the amount of pain you’re in, the pain that he’s caused, and he’s never hated himself more - whether it’s his past or current self he hates, he’s not sure.

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say….” he says quietly, running a hand through his hair and trying to quickly rub the stray tears from his eyes.

“Then go, Harry, please leave me alone right now,” you ask, quiet and defeated as you slump down on your bed.

Harry nods, not entirely sure what to say or do, but knowing this is not how he’d wanted tonight to go. He’d convinced himself that you’d be beyond happy to hear him say those words, that finally, you’d both realize that the only other thing you needed in the entire world was to be with one another. What he didn’t expect was for you to have already loved him...and moved on. He didn’t expect you to be so sure that loving each other would bring nothing but pain, and that you’d be so determined to avoid it. He’d feared that he would ruin your friendship by doing this, but he’d never actually expected it. He’d never expected that you’d built up coping mechanisms so strong that he’d never be able to break them down and make you truly happy. As he leaves your bedroom and shuts the door, he can’t bring himself to walk back downstairs, to pretend to be happy and fine. He just stands there, staring at your bedroom door, not knowing how to process what just happened, how to fix the mess he’s made.

I just left your bedroom.

Give me some morphine.

Is there any more to do?

As the weight of the events of the last few minutes sink in, Harry sinks to the ground, his mind filled with all the things he’s done wrong these past three years. He should have known how you felt, should have known that he’d feel the same. He never should have let the opportunity to love you slip away.

Just let me know, I’ll be at the door, at the door,

Hoping you’ll come around.

Just let me know, I’ll be on the floor, on the floor,

Maybe we’ll work it out.

He sits there for he doesn’t know how long, trying to figure out how he can fix the damage he’s done. He vaguely hears footsteps on the stairs, but pays no attention until he sees your sister’s face peek up over the railing. She gives him a questioning look and with tears in his eyes he hadn’t realized were there, he shakes his head. She nods knowingly, finishing her ascent and making her way into your room. Harry fights the urge to follow, knowing it would be the wrong thing to do. You need to come to him, you need to let him know what to do. Just take the pain away.

Alice is in your room for a while, quiet and indistinct murmurs the only things that fill Harry’s ears as he tries to work out how to get out of this horrible situation. He should’ve waited, he shouldn’t have been this impulsive. At least telling her after the wedding would have given them time to work things out, but right now, the party is still going, and guests are missing the bride and maid of honor. A few minutes later, Alice comes out and gives Harry a look of pity.

“I thought she loved me,” Harry whispers incredulously, tears still flowing quietly.

“She did...she does, Harry, she does. But she doesn’t know how. She’s scared, and she’s felt the pain of being without you too much to let herself want you like that again. Give her time, she’s learned to go without you, but I think she’ll come around. She just needs time,” Alice pleads, sympathy and understanding in her voice. Little did he know that she’d been aware of their situation for so long, but neither she nor he had any idea that you’d react this way.

“Okay...okay. I’m going to leave. I’ll leave the jet here to bring her back to London. I’ll find another way home. Thank you, Alice. And congratulations, it was a beautiful wedding,” Harry says, standing and brushing himself off, wiping his eyes, and trying to look as composed as possible. “Thank you, Harry. And really, she does love you, she just can’t admit it to herself yet. I promise you, just give her time,” she says, nodding and leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before ushering him downstairs.

He makes his way quietly downstairs and to his car, glad that he’d left his bags inside it. He takes out your bags, puts them next to the door, and grabs a piece of paper from his glove box.

I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no idea what I’ve put you through. I do love you though, I love you with all my heart. Please, when you’re ready to talk, let me know. I’ll wait for you.

Yours,

Harry

The note was simple, but he hopes it says what he needs it to say as he leaves, heads to the airport and heads home. He can’t believe the pain you’ve been through, he can’t believe he was so oblivious, that he’d never talked to you about it before. And mostly he can’t believe that he may have ruined everything.

We don’t talk about it.

It’s something we don’t do.

‘Cause once you go without it,

nothing else will do.

[fionarhiannon]

A Press Tour Distraction

TITLE: A Press Tour Distraction

PAIRING: Chris Evans/Original Female Character

DESCRIPTION: Chris gets a surprise from his girlfriend during a press tour

WARNINGS: Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, mild swearing

Written for my beautiful American Twin, @siren-kitten-his. 

Happy birthday, Darling. 

             Staring out of the small cabin window watching the clouds pass her by, for the first time in weeks a happy tune sounded in her mind to which she hummed along. The flight was thankfully smooth; plane rides had never been her favourite, and she was tired.

 After finding her luggage and fighting her way through a busy Heathrow, she rubbed her eyes tiredly as she heard her name called.

A smile spread across her face as she spotted her friend who waved excitedly.

They met with a tight embrace – it had been a while since they’d last been together, life and work keeping them apart, not mention the Atlantic Ocean.

             “Come on,” she said, nodding her head towards the exit and grabbing Jade’s luggage from her.

 The modest London home was dark and eerily quiet when they arrived, and Jade’s friend shushed her.

           “He’s been going to bed super early, so I didn’t get a chance to tell him you were coming in – he probably doesn’t even know I’ve come to meet you,” she explained, referring to her partner.

 They tip-toed towards the spare bedroom, and jade flopped onto the bed with an appreciative moan at its comfort.

             “Help yourself to anything you need, darling, and we’ll go out for breakfast in the morning. Night-night.”

             “Night. And thank you,” Jade said as her friend closed the door.

 She planned to unpack. To freshen up, change into her comfiest PJ’s and curl up in bed, but sleep had chased her quicker than she expected despite the late hour, and she didn’t even make it under the covers before she accepted it.

               She was still tired, Jade knew that much, but she was also apprehensive to start the day, and went in search of coffee.

She knew this house, and found everything she needed with ease, even in a zombie like state. Flicking the kettle on, she grabbed extra mugs and the tea bags for her friend, making extra coffee up in the cafetiere.

Jade poked her head into the fridge, tearing off a little leftover meat to nibble on, and grabbed the milk.

Shutting the fridge door, she turned and screamed, nearly dropping the carton as her heart pounded and her breathing quickened.

There, Tom stood, his eyes wide and completely vulnerable.

             “Shit!” he hissed, grabbing a tea towel off the cooker handle as Jade burst into raucous laughter at his situation.

He tried to cover what he could of his naked body with the small cloth, clearing his throat and apologising.

Rhi came through the door then, chuckling.

             “That tea towel isn’t big enough, baby,” she winked.

 Tom scowled at her, clearly embarrassed Jade had seen him that naked.

             “Morning, Jade,” he continued, turning to her with a smile as his fiancé passed him, playfully giving his exposed behind a little slap and winking at her friend who was still laughing.

             “I apologise. Someone didn’t tell me we had a house guest.”

 Jade took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as she shook her head at him.

             “Oh don’t you mind me. At least I’m wide awake now.”

             “Are you staying with us for long? Because I can start to wear pyjamas…”

 They sat at the island, sipping their drinks.

             “Just last night,” she explained. “I got in late so Rhi said she’d put me up. I’m going to surprise lover boy today.”

             “Oh that’s right, he’s doing promo, isn’t he?”

 Jade nodded.

           “He only has another two weeks away, but it’s already been four weeks. And I just… I missed him,” she shrugged.

             “Well, before you make up for lost time and shag his brains out, you’re both coming to dinner with Tom and I,” Rhi said, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around her, “And don’t argue with me, because I already made reservations.”

             “What the hell am I supposed to wear?! I didn’t exactly plan on leaving his hotel room much,” Jade grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

             “I’ve checked the schedule, his ‘lunch break’ is at one O’Clock. That gives us plenty of time to have breakfast and go shopping before you go surprise him.”

 Her friend was efficient, that was for sure.

Jade watched with a heart-warming smile as Tom whispered in her friend’s ear, then got up, making sure to hold on tight to his tea towel.

             “Well, I’ll leave you to your day. This has been… sufficiently awkward,” he winked. “And I’ll see you tonight,” he smiled as he edged out of the kitchen.

             “And um… I’ll just go… shower…” Rhi smirked, following him.

             “Twenty minutes?” Jade asked.

             “As if!” Rhi scoffed. “It’s still early – an hour,” she winked, rushing off to follow Tom.

 Jade rolled her eyes and grinned as she heard a bare hand connect with skin, and Tom’s signature laugh echoed through the hallway before they thundered up the stairs.

Jade poured herself another drink and headed to the second bathroom to get ready, knots already forming in her stomach.

                “I’ll drop these bags and your suitcase off at his hotel, and we’ll meet you guys for dinner at Seven-Thirty, okay?”

 Jade hugged Rhi, thanking her.

             “Go get him, tiger,” her friend joked with a little rawr before jumping in a cab.

 Smoothing down her top, Jade entered the hotel her boyfriend had been giving interviews in all morning for his new film.

His press tours had never been a problem for them before, and they always found ways to connect when he was away; then there were the ones she actually attended (with rhi of course as their men promoted the latest Marvel instalment).

But there was something about this one, or more precisely, about the time of year, and she couldn’t stay away.

She was five cocktails deep when she’d called Rhi and discussed her plan that resulted in a booked flight and an instant knot of worry in her stomach.

Now, it felt even worse.

 Rhi had connections thanks to her company, and so Jade was met by a leggy blonde in a gorgeous outfit who showed to the suites the interviews were being held in.

             “They’ve over-run just a little, so he’s just finishing up the last interview before he takes a break, but you can slip into the back of the room if you want to watch?”

 Jade nodded, and slipped into the room, hiding in the shadows at the back.

 She watched him light up the room with his infectious smile, and stifled her own laugh as he grabbed his chest and laughed himself.

 Suddenly, he paused, looking over the interviewer’s head – directly at her.

Heat spread through her body at his intense stare, and she bit her lip as his realisation grew, and her favourite smile broke through.

He shook his head and carried on, professional as ever.

 As the interview drew to a close, he leant forward, rubbing his hands together.

He barely said goodbye before he stood, quickly thanking the man and striding towards Jade.

The way he walked towards her, a huge smile plastered on his face made her heart pick up.

             “I couldn’t stay away a second longer,” he breathed, pulling her into a warm embrace.

 Jade took a deep breath, remembering him, becoming familiar with him again, and it made her giggle nervously.

             “I missed you so much,” she breathed, their foreheads pushed together.

 Jade kissed him hungrily until a small laugh reminded her they were surrounded by his team, and they separated, breathing heavily.

             “I’m taking my lunch break. I’ll be back in an hour,” Chris said, winking at Jade.

 She giggled again, quickly taking his out stretched hand as they left.

 Chris stood by the lift, impatiently tapping his foot on the red carpeted floor as they waited, his thumb lightly stroking the back of his lover’s hand.

God he’d missed the feel of her.

When the doors finally opened, they hurried inside and pressed the button for his floor.

 Alone at last, Chris took a minute to drink her in. Her beautiful, fiery hair twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her eyes alive and sparkling. Her chest quivering as her breathing picked up. The gorgeous dress she wore that he’d picked out for her…

Quickly glancing to his right, he checked which floor they were at before pushing her against the mirrored wall and pressing his lips to hers.

He wasted no time and ran his large hand across her bare thigh, teasing her as his other hand kneaded her breast.

His fingers just reached the edge of what felt like lace panties when the lift pinged, and he pulled away just as the doors opened on his floor, revealing waiting guests.

 Taking his hand again, Jade followed him quickly to his room.

He fiddled in his jeans pockets, trying to find the key card, and growing increasingly frustrated as she palmed his hardness through the fabric.

 Finally, the door opened and he pulled her through it, letting it shut behind them with a thud as he pulled her against him and kissed her once again.

Slipping his tongue into her mouth, one hand glided towards her bun, and he pulled at the band, letting her locks fall loose around her shoulders.

Breaking the kiss, he tossed the band aside then slid his hand into her soft tresses, and pulled, exposing her neck.

His open mouth explored her exposed, pulsing skin as she moaned and rolled her hips towards him.

 Chaos ensued as they removed one another’s clothes.

But he stopped at her purple lace panties. Pulling them aside, he used two long digits to explore her wetness, moaning in unison with his keen lover.

Jade quickly dropped Chris’s underwear, his erection stood between them, and gently nudged his hand away before sinking to her knees.

 She licked and teased his hardness before taking him into her hot mouth.

             “Good girl…” he moaned.

 He loved her mouth, whether she be talking to him, kissing him, or blowing him – everything she did with it was magic.

When his hips started to buck, he knew he had to change it up, and he slid from her mouth before pulling her back up.

 He glanced around at their surroundings and lifted her up eliciting a small yelp from her.

Sitting her on the edge of a sideboard, he now lowered himself to his knees, and spread her thighs wide.

He wasted no time with teasing, instead taking one slow lick to her wet core.

He kissed and licked in all the ways he knew his girl loved, and it didn’t take long for her hips to buck against his face as her orgasm washed over her.

 Jade was still seeing stars and trying to breathe properly again as Chris stood.

One hand reached forward, fondling her bare breast, pinching her hardening nipple before taking his hot mouth to it, his tongue circling the rosy pink bud.

Her hands ran up and down his muscled torso, appreciating the feel of him, and scratching, reclaiming her territory.

 Her declaration fanned Chris’s flames and he pulled her from the sideboard, turning her around and pushing her head against the solid oak.

Jade breathlessly laughed with excitement as one of his hands twirled her hair around it, and pulled, then pushed her hand back down, as his other hand guided his hard cock against her waiting, glistening lips.

With no warning, he thrust into her, making her yell with delight.

He pulled back to the tip as he pulled her up by her hand, and spanked her.

             “I missed you,” he grunted, thrusting back into her, making her scream.

 His hips rocked against hers, and she knew, having waited weeks for this, her next orgasm would chase her down quickly.

             “Fuck me harder,” she demanded, making Chris moan.

 And he obliged, pumping against her sweet spot again and again.

Her knuckles whitened as she held onto the sideboard tightly, thrilling in the noise of it banging against the wall.

             “Cum for me,” he ordered, spanking her again.

 She bit her lip hard, knowing she wasn’t far away.

             “Cum with me…” she responded.

 With a few final thrusts, their cries were loud as they both toppled over the blissful edge.

 Their bodies slick from their exertion, Chris pulled away and helped her up, stroking her hair from her face.

Motioning for her to follow, they entered the large bathroom where he switched on the shower, fiddling with the knobs to get it at the right temperature.

When he was satisfied, Chris pulled Jade into the shower with him, sliding the glass door shut behind them.

 He took his time to wash her, kissing her slowly as he shampooed her hair.

             “I love you. Thank you for coming out here and surprising me,” he told her gently.

             “I love you too,” she managed, taking the sponge from him and returning the gesture.

 When they had both cleaned up, they stepped out of the shower, Chris wrapping her up in the large, fluffy hotel towel.

 Sitting on the bed, she rested her head on his chest as his fingers lazily danced across her back.

             “Who has Dodger?” he worried.

 Jade laughed.

             “Your family. And he sends daddy lots of licks.”

 Chris chuckled.

             “Oh, we’re meeting Rhi and Tom for dinner tonight,” she told him.

             “You saw Tom before you saw me?!”

             “I saw more of Tom than I bargained for,” Jade giggled.

             “I’m not even going to ask,” Chris laughed, shaking his head.

 Jade looked at the clock on the bedside table and sighed.

             “You have to go back.”

 Chris nodded.

             “Do you want to sit in again?”

             “I’d love to.”

 Reluctantly, they both got up, and Jade started grabbing new clothes from th suitcase that had already arrived.

Very efficient indeed.

 “Oh, one more thing,” Chris announced, pulling an envelope out of a draw. He passed it to Jade who took little care in tearing it open.

Tickets.

             “To FIJI?!” she exclaimed.

             “Me and you, in four weeks – I need to see my boy first,” he winked, making her smile.

             “Happy Birthday, Kitten.”

[trogersracing]

Challenge Roth - 2019

I signed up for this (my second full distance triathlon) before having ever completed my first. I randomly saw a tweet from the race organizer that several registrants had not completed the sign up process and they were re-releasing the entries. I wrote a hasty email not thinking I’d be one of the first to respond and was amazed that I was able to nab a spot. Knowing that I could try to sign up for the race lottery for the next years and never get an entry I took advantage and decided to go for it. I though it would be a nice ‘A race’ for the summer not knowing how Barcelona would go or what else Carly and I would be getting into for travel.  Fast forward a bit and I qualified for Kona at Barcelona so Roth became much more of a ‘fun’ race, but still an important tune up and experience before going to the big island. I was excited to race the distance again and experience the fabled Challenge Roth atmosphere.

Though the body seemingly had other plans, in late January/February I thought what was a strained groin turned out to be a mild hernia. Carly and I joke that I literally ‘busted a gut’ at Barcelona. The other line was that the my body was rejecting me and this was a not so sublt hint to cut this shit out. Regardless, I took quick action and scheduled the surgery ASAP knowing that I’d have a bit of downtime and then slow build back to form. I was able to maintain general fitness right up till the scheduled surgery date.

Thanks to private insurance the surgery itself was an amazing easy process and my doctor was amazing. We schedule the surgery they day I got back from a trip to the USA for work. Literally….. off a red-eye at Heathrow and into the Hospital. I was a sight. That was Tuesday, February 19th. Not knowing most people take two weeks off of work for this thing I went to work the next day. I was slow moving to say the least but it i’d go nuts sitting around the house. I took a walk a few days later and Carly forbade me to get on my bike…. for a week. On the 28th I started doing some easy rides and slowly worked into some easy runs. I got in the pool for the first time on March 17th, nearly a month later. The week of March 18th was my first week ‘back’ in building fitness. I had a mountain to climb in the ten weeks to prepare for Roth.

During the down time it was tough to see instagram filled with everyone out on the spring training camps and gearing up for earlier season racing as my fitness plummeted. But I filled the time trying to ‘think’ about some of the aspects of racing I don’t usually get to ponder and to consider a few of my gear choices.

I knew I was in capable hands and that my fitness would return and it was better to take the time now and make a proper recover and gains than risk greater damage. I slowly got back into my standard routine of cycling to work, running and eventually swimming. I had the odd sting or stretch but overall the recovery went very well. The rest was also good mentally, I knew that the summer was going to be long and that I had two very big races on my calendar that I needed to stay ‘checked into’ I was able to spend some time thinking about my racing, things that were important to me and places I wanted to develop. I didn’t pull everything I thought about into my training or racing but it was good to think about some of these things, research, listen to what others had to say and spend my time preparing and know why I was (or wasnt).

Below you can see my fitness and training (gains) from early Feb through to the race.

Feb 15th. The low point.

Race Day.

Training Volume to get to Challenge Roth

Average training hours during build. (does not count commuting)

Average (and max) TSS during build. (does not count commuting). The spike at the end is the race.

This doesn’t take account an average of 39 miles (3 hours) a week of commuting. A complete week of commuting would be 75 (5 hours) but that sometimes doesn’t happen with other work or professional commitments. I don’t count the cycling as part of ‘training’ but it doest factor into general recovery or how I’m feeling in terms of energy level. The commute is also good for bike handling skills and distressing at the end of the day.

Trips taken… work and pleasure

I fly back to the USA about every eight to ten weeks so I was able to put my next trip off till mid-april which allowed me to get into a good rythm with training before the next disruption. I made a bit of a weekend out of it and and saw some family on the weekend after which was a nice way to end the (short) trip. My parents live in rural NH so there was ample time (and space) to get a few runs under my belt.

Live Free or Die.

May was quite but June saw us traveling to the states for two full weeks for two weddings and my sisters graduation. I took the bike over and used the time to get in some long rides up into the white mountains and around Maine as well as open water swims in Sebago. We planned to take a week of ‘work’ and then a week of holiday so it was the first week that I was most concerned with continuing the gains where once I was on ‘holiday’ it would be slightly easier to find the time.

Carly’s mom organized this mural in Maine and the ‘sister’ mural in Iraq. Both painted with the assistance of young kids to show there is more that unites than divides us.

However, it was not an easy ask as we had a full slate of friends and family to see during the week. There was a fair bit of running around the eastern seaboard seeing friends and family but all totally worth it.

At the end of the weeks I had been able to put in a couple of quality longer bike and run efforts and got to race week at very nearly the same ‘fitness’ that I had with Barcelona. That summer played out much differently with more racing including London Marathon and 70.3 WC’s so the fitness was much deeper then but I was happy with how fast I was able to get my body ready.

Roth itself….

As soon as I entered I held a spot at a hotel in Nuremberg and began looking for an Airbnb closer to the race start. I knew that many stayed in Nuremberg so it wasn’t ‘bad’ but staying in Roth or Hipolstien was far better. Luckily enough, after much checking I snagged a great place in Hipolstien next to the train station and was able to cancel the hotel. As a whole house it had more than enough space for Carly and I to enjoy the weekend and the race atmosphere and made it very easy to get to/from Roth on the train for briefings and to/from the race finish.

Carly and I flew into Munich Thursday evening and after a quick car rental pickup were shooting north very, very, quickly on the Autobahn to Roth. We stopped for a quick bite to eat that evening on our way up and crashed once we got in. Friday morning I woke and walked down to the swim start for a short swim in the canal during the allocated trial time. Afterwards, Carly and I met up for a food shop and I assembled my bike. Once assembled I was out for a ride to test everything out and short run to get the legs moving. During the ride I went to check-in and crossed that off the list. The check-in process on Friday mid day was very easy and I was in/out in ten minutes. Very well managed.

I spent the remainder of the day Friday and Saturday preparing my gear and setting up the my prototype hydration bladder for the bike (more on this later). Once prepped it was a decent amount of relaxing and just enjoying ourselves around the house and small town.

Beer!

and sausage!

Saturday I had a quick ride and run followed by dropping my bike off at T1. The race also requires you drop off the run bag so that it can be transported to T2. I had scored an amazing rack spot right at the end of a row and next to the pro’s so my run out of T1 was very easy and no searching for my bike!

Dimonds get the best settings.

Saturday was very hot so we spent the rest of the day relaxing around the house trying to avoid getting dehydrated. I spent a bit of time prepping my bottles for the next day and double checking everything I could.

Get in my belly!

Race day….

Up at 4:30, had a Honey stinger wafer and banana and some PH. Out the door by just before 5 am to walk to T1. Got to T1 as a rain started but before the majority of crowds so was able to get easy access to bathrooms and sort the bike quickly and drop off the bike bag. I spent a few minutes chilling under a tree with Carly trying to avoid the rain but soon enough it was time to dawn the wetsuit and get this party started. I felt fueled, hydrated and ready.

I made my way back into T1 and over to the starting pen. As I had indicated a Sub 9:00 hour goal I was placed into a distinct starting group just after the pro men and women start. I was a bit psyched (nervous) about this as it would leave the roads a bit more clear for the first loop of the bike and make it a bit easier to pace and see where I was for the race in terms of place.

Swim

Washing machine.

I started at about the middle of the starting line 2-3 people back from the front. I was terrified that I’d get kicked in/around my incision during the swim so my primary goal was to make it through the swim unharmed. Once the cannon fired it was an instant washing machine. Definitely the most hectic swim start I’ve ever participated in and given that all the people there were quick it continued on for a while. I have no illusions of fast swimming to tried to just stick to my race and my pace and get into a good rhythm. Being in a canal the swim is calm and course simple. Down with the current and then back against with a quick out and back the other way just before the finish. I was consciously ‘pushing’ but not killing myself. I know that sometimes i allow my mind to wander when swimming so I kept checking in to keep focus and maintain pace. I wanted to get a sub 60 swim and thought that with the ‘easier’ course versus the rough seas on Barcelona it would be doable.

Just. start. running.

On exit I glanced at my watch 60:41… fuck.. pretty much the exact same time as Barcelona. Not a bad time by any measure but I had been hoping (expecting) a slightly quicker swim. Oh well, no time to dwell on it and right into T1. The volunteers are amazing and had my gear dumped and sorted quickly. Socks and number on and out to the bike. I momentarily grabbed my bike and started running before I realized I didn’t have my helmet on which was on the bars. Big no no…. stopped and helmet on before any harm done (officials saw).

ignore the time. next job.

Swim – 60:41 – 251st OA

Out to the start line and on the bike…

Bike

I wanted to give a solid effort on the bike here and shave time off the 4:49 from Barcelona. The course is rolling but giving the amazing road surfaces you always have the ability to move fast.

The bike course is stunning and it passes through some lovely german countryside and towns. There are people lining the entire course cheering which makes the atmosphere even better. Every hill you’re treated with cheering fans on both sides.

With the prototype bladder my goal was to take in the just under 2 liters in the bike as well as two (and a half) bottles on the bike for a mix of fluids and fuel. I’d supplement this with half a honey stinger wafer every 30 minutes or so for some ‘real’ calories.

The bladder worked amazing well and it was great to be able to take small swigs while in aero position or whenever desired. I supplemented that with bottles when it started to run dry or I wanted to larger draw of fluid. Overall it worked really well and I was able to move over and ignore all the aid stations. I don’t think this really saved me any time but it certainly goes to a level of confidence that I can have everything I need for a full distance race right on my bike and not be beholden to the aid stations and be carrying it in a very aero manner (inside the bike). Certainly if it had been hotter (or I had lost a bottle) I would have taken water or other from the stations.  I’ll continue to refine my fueling mix and the bladder itself to maximize the volume and make sure I’m getting the type of energy I need during the bike.

The highlight of the bike was easily Solar Hill. Rolling through Hipolstien you round a small corner and there is just a mass of people in front of you. They’re screaming and making noise and right in your face. Its hard not to push up the hill and takes a fair amount to ride the hill ‘like a triathlete’.  I clocked through the second loop at around 2:20ish and felt happy with the pace though wanted to be a bit quicker.

The second loop I kept on the gas and took a bit of solice in that I saw two Freespeed athletes come up to me about halfway through the second lap. I rode with them for a good portion of the remainder of the race and felt it was a good indicator that I was moving along well and where I sat in the overall leaderboard.

I did over cook one decent through a small town and had to bunny hop the bike up on the curb at about 30 mph and then back off to keep from hitting the shoulder. I scared a good portion of the crowd who must have thought I was a gonner… also got my heart going…. really didn’t want to be ‘that American’ who couldn’t keep it right side up.

Bike 4:46 – 82nd OA

Marathon…

Rolling into T2 I saw a lot of bags still on the ground around my number so knew I was in ‘decent’ position but had some work ahead of me. A very quick transition saw my shoes and PH hat on and I was out the door. I think I had the 9th fastest T2 of the day…

I had a goal of wanting to run sub 3 for the marathon and knew the splits I needed to run to achieve that. I started out feeling strong and set off a bit under that pace hoping to build a buffer. The course brings you first through a bit of town before putting you on two out-n-backs along the canal.

Starting the first I saw Carly which put a bit of pep in my step and I was feeling good. I knew my swim was solid and I had bike taken some time off my bike so I was in good position. Running a sub 3 marathon would really put me across the line with a decent finishing time. I saw the pro women coming back towards me on the first out and back and started to see a number of the fast AG’s as well so knew I wasn’t too far off the lead guys.

I was quickly running with another racer and after a chat realized he to was looking to run about that time so we linked up for the next few miles. After a few aid stations though he dropped back and I continued on at pace. As I passed Carly the second time to start the (longer) out and back to the north of the canal the wind picked up and the sun came out. It started to heat up a bit and my body started to feel tired. Over the next few miles my mind went from ‘sub 3’ to I need to make sub 9 overall. My legs really started to weight and at each aid station I started to go for the coke and fruit. Going for that stuff before mile ten was much earlier in the race than I usually begin going for that sort of thing.

By the time I turned back around and was heading off the canal for Roth I was feeling wrecked. I saw Carly and indicated no joy and tried to get my head into the game. ‘Common man, you’re more than halfway done… suck it up’. The nice bit was that running through town there was way more fans and support which kept the spirits up. It was a bit easier to push and find that energy reserve to keep moving. That said, this was, personally, a very, very rough run. I really felt like throwing in the towel and calling it a day. I felt slow, my legs were like limp sausages. After a couple hours of pushing my body to keep going my mind was also starting to throw in the towel. Failure creeped in and took hold.

But I kept on pushing forward. ‘Just keep moving’ I told myself. If I kept going I would finish, and finishing at the time I would, even if outside my goal is an accomplishment many spend an entire career trying to achieve. Don’t to that dishonor by throwing in the towel now. Keep going.

Hurting. Hard.

By the time I made it to the turn around pond with three miles left I knew I’d finish the race and gave it one last go for the downhill miles back to Roth. Back into the crowds I found the last bit of reserve and pushed through the town and into the finish stadium. It was a pretty epic finish scenario with the announcers and crowd in the stands and an experience I’ll not forget.

Don’t trip now.

Run – 3:07 – 57th OA

I crossed the line exhausted but finished. I knew I hadn’t made my place or time goal I had wanted but it was a quality race effort in an amazing venue. I can’t be mad with the performance. Into the recovery tent I went over to the timing services to see how I placed. 8:57… I was amazed, I had (somehow) bested my Barcelona time by a minute and slid in under the 9 hour mark. Given my training leading up to the race this was a great time and an affirmation of my underlying fitness.

The only hit on this race was the post race food. For the last few miles all I could think about was getting some good german sausages once finishing. The smell of fans cooking (and eating) them was thick the last miles. Certainly, I thought, this to would await for me at the finish. However I was disappointed on finish and the food options were rather lack luster. They were well stocked with the offerings they did have and there were some nice options but just not what I (or my body) had in mind at that moment. So after downing a few chocolate milks and pastries I left the tent to find Carly. On finding me she promptly fixed the problem and supplied currywurst and beer which instantly made me feel better. We chilled for a little while and then, with not much more reason to hang around left to find the bus replacement back to Hipolstein. After a short wait and bus ride I was home and showered. We went into the little town and had a quality dinner (avoiding the chaos of Roth) and relaxed with some beers.

At around 8pm we jumped in the car and went back to T2 to pick up my bike and gear. After which we found a place to ditch the car and went to the finishing stadium to cheer on the late finishers and watch the fireworks. It was really something to watch the racers who had been out there for 13/14/15 hours come across the line and receive their medal. I cant imagine being out there and racing for that long… The mental toll (outside of the obvious physical effort) is mind blowing. The fireworks at the end of the evening were the perfect ending to the day and it was nice to get some fireworks in over the 4th of July weekend!

The race provided a number of valuable experiences and I was able to take away some great lessons from both the prep and overall experience.

Good:

2nd Full distance race, 2nd sub 9 hour finish (and on 11.5 hours a week of training)

500 euro back for finishing sub 9 hours

fitness coming back after the surgery with no post race issues

hydration bladder prototype worked well

overall weekend was much more ‘low stress’ than my first full race and gave me a good level of confidence for the distance in Kona

Bad

swim not as expected, if only by a minute or two

biked uneven (in retrospect) and paid the price on the run

run sucked, but with mid 20 mile weeks averaging leading up it is not surprising that a sub 3 marathon didn’t happen

Please let me know if there is anything about the race (or training) you’d like to know or for me to expand on. I’m happy to share my experience and help others have a great day out at Roth. Its an amazing event!

Challenge Roth – 2019 was originally published on Rogers Racing