#oh man im so sorry i had these in my rafts forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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do you have a curtis fic with the tenderly wiping the blood off? because if not can i request one? but if you don’t have could i have it with chris or ari? or curtis is fine but you know my love for ari haha sorry i’m just rambling now😂💕

Trust Me

A/N- I really liked how this one came out, so it gets a title. No real warnings. Thanks for sending this in babes! I did Ari cause well, I havent yet written for him and I know you love him. Thank You @official-and-unstable-satan for reading over what I had last night and giving it a thumbs up. Love you babes.

Red Sea Diving Resort, 70 kilometers from Port Sudan

You paced by the radio, it was silent. So silent, you just wished it would cackle and Sammy would come over in that garbled sound all radios make, letting them know they were successful, on there way back to the resort. But nothing. Occasionally Ethans voice would break through, making you jump in anticipation each time. He would ask for an answer, but there was nothing. Rachael hugged herself as she waited, nearby, ready to answer when needed.

“They will be okay Y/N, its not like Ari hasnt had them go radio silence before.”

You knew your friend was trying to assure you, but it was hard when your heart was wedged in your throat, waiting to bottom out. Here you and Sammy were similar, sometimes you thought the worst although you hoped for the best. How many times had Ari, cupped your face and made you look at him.

“Trust me Y/N” he would say.

Okay Ari, Im trusting you...

Then there was the cackle, and Sammys voice broke through. “On our way back, successful.” Both you and Rachael took relieved sighs and she answered right away. “Loud and Clear guys, see you soon.” You rubbed your face in relief and she came over to give you a squeeze around the shoulders. “Told you, its all gonna be good.”

Ari drove the truck with its ruined shocks, bouncing all over the road. It had been touch and go, but they managed to get the latest round of refugees out to safety in record time, and at the rate they were going, in just another week, they could be making this trip again.

“Can you slow it down?” Sammy asked, bouncing in his own seat, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle on the side. “Were not carrying refuges anymore if they stop us.”

Ari eased up. Barely, he was ready to get back to the resort, take some pain killers, crash for a couple good hours before going back to making more plans, and playing host to there current round of resort guests.

“I also wish you would let me look at where you cracked your head. Seriously Ari, only you man.”

Reaching up, he winced where his head clipped off the side of the trucks frame helping people climb out the back. It was a rushed moment, since Jake warned them that he saw headlights off in the distance, and they still had a truck full of people to get on the rafts. It wasnt his finest moment, but they got the job done and were able to hide the trucks off the beach. Once the armed men, no doubt some of Ahmed’s men, passed on by, they split out of there. Driving by moonlight till the beach was far off in the rear view. They got lucky, again.

Ari always seemed to get lucky, Sammy would sarcastically comment at times.

“Dont worry Sammy, Im fine. I will have Y/N take a look at it before we go to sleep.” Ari remarked, and his friend rolled his eyes and sighed in discouragement with his stubbornness. Ari continued on excitedly though. “It went pretty good I thought, considering they were patrolling. Everyone out, no one got injured. If we plan it right, we can go out next week, as long as Kabede can get them out of camp.”

Sammy wrinkled his brow, worry etching over his face. “You dont think thats pushing it a bit close? Ahmed is already suspicious as it is”

Ari smirked and looked over at Sam “Trust Me.”

Hours later the two trucks pulled up alongside of the resort, you and Rachael waiting just outside the main entrance to greet them back, also to find out about why radio silence. Your hands wrung together and you blew out some hot air in a huff that fluffed your bangs. Rachael chuckled softly at your nerves and leaned in close to whisper to you. “See, its all good.” You smiled at her, an apology for your nerves, and went to greet the men.

Jake and Max came around, from one of the trucks with big grins on there faces.

“Like a charm Doll” Max said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His good mood was infectious and you relaxed in his hold, your arm slinging around his waist with affection.

“So the radio silence was just for...?” You asked and from behind you, you heard Ari came up on your other side, carrying some of Sammys equipment, startling you. As big as Ari was, he was quiet. A skill he had picked up over the years of military training.

“There were patrols out, not far from us. We went entirely dark for a time while unloading, and had to hide the trucks.” You reached to take some of what he was carrying and caught sight of his face, near his temple was a line of dried blood, leading up to a nasty looking scrapped bruise.

Rachael caught sight of it to, wincing as she reached out to take the stuff from Ari. “Here, let me take that, and you should have Sam take a look at that.” Max collected what you had to, offering to help. Ari started to protest the two of them, when you gave him a gentle push to get him headed into the hotel.

“Shes right, come on.” you insisted, and he didnt fight you. Cutting through the lobby, the two of you skirted around the counter that was the check in, and headed into the employees only section. In the back rooms, Ari leaned lightly against the table watching you as you searched out the first aide kit. “Tomorrow Im going to go into the refuge camp, see if Kabede is ready to bring the next group out, I know its soon, but if they can have to rescue boat back here by beginning of next week, we could start doing this alot faster.”

Ari continued on with what he was hoping for, and tidbits from tonight, while you sought through the bottom cupboard, and finally found the bright red cross case that was your first aide kit. Bringing it over to the table, and flipping it open, your ‘Mmhm’ sounding once in a while to show you were still listening, he reached over to grasp your wrist. “Y/N, whats wrong sweetheart?”

You glance at him while prepping a cloth to wipe away the blood and around the wound. “Ari... It sounds like it was a close call. If you all get caught, lets be real about this. They wont just throw you in some jail cell if your caught with truckloads of refugees.” You didnt mention the last part, the very first day you all arrived, there was an execution style killing going on right outside the window as he was negotiating just to get this place. That was a year and a half ago.

“What are you saying Y/N? You want us to stop? Were saving so many lives.”

Guilt crossed your face as you heard him, it was true. So far you all have managed to smuggle out hundreds of people, slowly emptying the refugee camps. But even in that there wasnt a end in sight. They would just keep coming, desperate and barely hanging onto the promise of freedom and safety.

“I know... I know... “ You say softly while he pulled out a chair and sat down on it so you could clean him up, thighs spreading so you could stand in close where you need to be, and tip his face slightly. “Just hearing how close they were tonight, you going radio silence. It scared me Ari. There is nothing we could do to save you guys.”

His hands moved to the back of your thighs, rubbing your tensed muscles through your pants and grasped lightly under the cheeks while you gently wiped at his cheek, the dried blood flaking off and making your way up the trail. “We have to be smart about this Ari, know when weve played our hand as much as we can without getting ourselves caught.”

Quiet for a time while you dabbed at his face softly, he finally spoke up. “Trust me Y/N, I know it. No one was more worried then I was that we were gonna be found. I drove like a fucking bat outta hell to put distance between us. I cant stop though, not right now... I wont. This works, what were doing works.”

And this was always how it was with Ari, forever will he put everyone else before himself. You knew this the day you agreed to join them on this mission, and to ask him to change? You knew he wouldnt give this up. Not for Sam, not for you, not for the family he left behind ages ago. It was a bitter pill to swallow at times, but at the same time, isnt that why you cared for him more then you should have, His selflessness?

So you set it aside for now, your fingers gentle as the trace over his bearded jawline to tilt his face further, and now careful clean up the actual cut. Its not as bad as it looked, and you change the subject. “How did this happen anyways?”

“Smashed it upside the back end helping people down. I was pulling myself up and clipped it.” Ari rolled his eyes at himself and you chuckled softly hearing it, brushing your fingers through his hair out of his eyes.

“Well fuck Ari, I apparently cant even leave you in the capable hands of Sammy to keep you out of trouble.” You tossed the cloth in the nearby sink now that he was cleaned up, and dabbed just a light amount of ointment on it to keep it clean. When you finished by rubbing your hands together quickly to clear away the rest of the ointment, he tightened his grip on your thighs and pulled one leg up, then the other to straddle him, wrapping one arm around your waist so you could brace back lightly against his arm.

“Not like you could keep me out of it either, dont worry Honey, we got this. We will stop when it gets to be to dangerous.” Your fingers brushed through his hair once more, giving it the lightest teasing tug before wrapping your arms around his neck, and giving him an doubtful smile. You knew it was a lie, he wouldnt. But right now this was another problem, another day, another worry for another time.

Wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck and dragging you forward, his lips connecting with yours and the wild taste of sea salt, hints of nicotine, and something just him drew out a soft moan from you, a tip of the head and he was able to draw you in deeper till you were leaning in against his chest, and with a light bite, he drew away, his long fingers lightly pressing in against the back of your neck.

“Ive got you, trust me.”

You didnt want to, but deep down, you always did.

tagging- @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict @patzammit

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zoestagg · 6 years

Text

Ironman Cairns 70.3: THE SWIM

The waves dipped down and I spotted ahead of me, trying to keep my eye on the buoy that was only visible if I squinted as hard as I could through the dazzle. Then I saw her arm. It wasn’t a stroke, it was her arm up and waving frantically. Oh my god. We were the stragglers, out on the back side of the swim course, a good 300m from shore, and that lady was in trouble.

***** Apropos of anything potentially physically treacherous, let’s begin with the disclaimers and get you to sign the waiver. This race was, in some ways, 8000 times better than last year. The aid stations were STOCKED, maybe because this is the first course I’ve done with a full Ironman happening at the same time, but it made such a difference. The bike course was CLOSED and coned-off and felt so much safer, even with the drop-off down to the Coral Sea. And I received a great deal of kindness from the volunteers all the way around.

And the acknowledgment: I am slow. I am not a gifted natural athlete. The only real talent I have, is showing up and not quitting. The internet was very quick to tell me last year, in a dozen different ways, that I shouldn’t have been out on the course at all. That felt pretty horrible.

Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be out on Ironman courses, if they weren’t kind of the only game in town out here. There aren’t locally-run triathlon series, that I’ve been able to find. And only about one out of every ten IM courses has an Olympic distance option, so if I want to train for an event, it ends up being a big one. I’m sorry for that, I guess. I’m sorry to be in the group chasing the time limit. It would be awesome to finish in a time the internet finds respectable, and I will keep working toward it.

Triathlon is a weird sport, another thought that occurred to me in the many, many hours I had to think about such things. Is there another athletic event where the slowpokes are on the same course at the same time as the pros? You’re not going to turn up at the golf course for a tourney and be behind Tiger Woods. It’s weird.

In any event, as I kept moving forward through the last 13.1 miles of the 70.3 I covered that day feeling like an absolute failure, I couldn’t help but notice — there were a lot of people lining the course that didn’t even start, that wouldn’t even consider running in to the ocean on a Sunday morning to swim 2 kilometers. I mean, myself included! That I even went IN that water at all, let alone made it all the way around without absolutely freaking out, is something I couldn’t have fathomed in my first multi-sport race that had a 200 METER swim in a POOL that I didn’t even PUT MY FACE IN THE WATER FOR. I have improved. A lot. I have trained. Or I would still be breaststroking with my head out of the water.

I suppose this is to say, if you are triggered by stories from people who consider getting to the starting line an accomplishment, and who gets to the finish line after the time limit, and spent a lot of time sobbing during the effort, this is not for you.

But to me, that’s a great story. Now, where were we. Oh yes, that lady might be drowning…

*****

“HELP!” I treaded in a circle, looking for the paddle-boarding rescue teams. I yelled again, “SHE NEEDS HELP!” After what seemed like forever, but was probably about 45 seconds, a paddle board headed over, followed by a raft with an outboard motor. The rescue teams tended to her, and I waited behind, not able to get around or see beyond them.

After a few minutes they cleared, and I struggled on.

The fact that I was here, riding the grey and white waves, that I was putting my face in this water and not screaming, that I was swimming (in a fashion) was nothing short of a miracle that I couldn’t think too carefully about, because THIS IS THE OCEAN AND I’M IN IT.

It was about this moment, that I started to think about other things like, “Huh. I really don’t like swimming. And I really hate the ocean. What am I even doing here?” But I felt okay. Every so often, I would misjudge a wave and get a mouthful of sea, but I felt okay. I had no idea how long I’d been out on the course, the sun was straight at my face and I couldn’t see my watch, so I just kept going.

Let’s talk about oceanography for a moment. All open water is not the same. The Mediterranean Sea by Marseille is inky blue and rough, it rattles your vertigo but lets you pass. The South China Sea by Bintan is pale turquoise and clear, you’re tricked into thinking you could stand up at any moment. The Coral Sea by Cairns is a gray froth and wraps its current around you and straight sucks up any effort you throw at it.

I swam, and swam, and swam and STILL the buoy wouldn’t get closer. “When I make the turn,” I kept telling myself. “They said it would be with the current after the turn, right? Please let that be what they said.” I’m a crap swimmer, I know this. I have no idea how you’re supposed to overpower a current or train for one — all I know is that I didn’t let it beat me, and I didn’t it let it get in my head. I also know — and can say from experience, which blows my mind — this was the hardest swim I’ve done on four continents.

Finally, FINALLY, I got close enough to the shore to stand. The ocean took two or three more swipes, knocking me down as I struggled to stand and run.

“An hour and seven minutes!” said the announcer. “Just under the cutoff!”

Jesus. I’m a crap swimmer, but I did the same distance last time fully 20 minutes faster. I guess I can’t beat a current. What I can do though, is stay alive in the ocean, swimming as hard as I can, for more than an hour.

I trotted up the carpet, and headed for my bike. I was making okay time in T1, trading commiseration with another woman surprised by how hard the swim was, and I was heading out toward the road when a woman in an Ironman shirt approached me.

“Just so you know,” she started gently, “You’re a DNF at this point. You can go on if you’d like, you have loads of time.”

“What?! The man said! I was an hour and seven minutes!” I was already hysterical by the end of this sentence. I’d managed to look at my watch when I’d gotten out, by my watch I was under, too. I’d gone all the way through T1 thinking I was okay.

“Oh? I’m so sorry, maybe I’ve gotten it wrong then!”

“He said!” I wailed, “He said I was okay!”

It’s at this point, I’d broken a PR. Time to Inconsolable Scream-Crying: nailed after the first event. It’s an awful feeling, to be told you’ve busted your whole race, all that training, all that effort to even GET to the starting line, all of that stress and fear even facing the ocean, to be told you’ve failed from the beginning.

She tried to offer me water, she was understandably horrified at my reaction.

“Can I go?”

I headed miserably for the mount line and got on my bike. It took me five miles to stop crying.

Officially, when I went back and look at my times after the race, she wasn’t wrong.

Swim: 1:10:01

A second over. Does that time show the two minutes I spent waiting for the rescue boat to clear? Nah. All it shows is that I shouldn’t have been that close to the deadline at all. And it shows that I DNFed after the first event.

T1: 8:34

Also, forever. But what the split doesn’t show, is three full minutes of heartbreak. I really don’t know how you train to get over that faster.

Hi, welcome. My name is Zoë Stagg and I’m the world’s slowest Cryathlete.

Stay tuned for next time, where I show you how to make hotel-room onigiri and we talk about how one guy thought he was telling me a funny joke at the top of a hill and I cried for another three miles! Is that the last time I cried in the whole 9:11:23 day? Place your bets now… (The story DOES get better. I mean, it kind of gets worse before it gets better, but there are two very kind Ironman-affiliated people who encouraged me to keep going, and so I did. You’ll meet them in the next installment.)

#try club #triathlon #running #swimming #bicycles #fitness #race report #ironman #70.3

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