#i am just exhausted about the lack of care for global warming

[swingsetindecember]

it's only when the wildfire haze hit the us that people are talking about how bad it is. we've been living with haze and wildfires for a month in alberta and suddenly news is everywhere now talking about canadian wildfires. it's very frustrating when an issue you've been living through only gets attention when a larger population gets hit. like y'all didn't care a week ago until it was in your backyard. my heart goes out to everyone being affected, we need to have better environmental protections

#i am just exhausted about the lack of care for global warming #it comes for us all #we are getting hit by record dry weather and all our forests are suffering from being over logged #this is a national issue #its a global issue #canadian wildfires #you dont exist in a vacuum #my heat goes out to nova scotia

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ultima Ex Nobis | ch. V

-all rights reserved-

Nessian AU word count: ~2,5k words warnings: mentions of bad mental health summary: Six years into a global pandemic which was caused by a mass fungal infection that turns hosts into zombie-like creatures and makes the whole of Prythian collapse, the former army general Cassian Cadell is tasked with one very special mission – escorting Nesta Archeron, one of the few immune survivors, across a post-apocalyptic Prythian to a group of people of the name L. Their identity  is unknown but they can make an antidote.

The road —if you can call it road— is rough, bumpy and incalculable. It is overgrown with weeds and grass, large cracks stretching out along the street. The sun is high and bright in the sky, almost gleefully glowing down on them — pretending to be a warm summer day when the world around them is breaking apart. 

The rotting sidewalks are barely visible, the decaying buildings lining the street are evidence that that long ago people have lived here. Most of the windows in the houses are broken, just like in the city outside the fenced area they have left over a week ago. These houses remind Nesta a lot of the other ones — another abandoned city, a so-called ghost town.

Nesta keeps a straight stare that lacks warmth. All worry about Cassian has vanished and she falls back into her usual patterns of cool indifference. Her back is stiff, her shoulders squared, her chin held high. 

Cassian and Azriel chat lightly, talking about the Starfall and army related things. Earlier they discussed the Darkbringers that have control in most areas, having taken over the government. Nesta does not really pay attention, she also does not care what they are talking about. Her eyes are trained on the street, but her lids feel so damn heavy. Exhaustion and tiredness come over her in waves but she fights them. She does not want to sleep now, does not want to seem week again.

She keeps a closed body posture, her arms crossed in front of her chest and she from time to time softly pinches her wrist to stay awake. There is a distance between her and Cassian that hasn’t been there when they have been hiding together. It makes Cassian feel confused as he has no explanation for it. Nesta herself doesn’t even know why she acts like that again. It probably is mask, so no one can see how vulnerable and fragile she actually is underneath the shell. How much pain, how many emotions she is actually feeling, experiencing. How much is going on inside of her.

“You know, you can sleep, Nes,” Cassian offers, with warmth in his voice. “Place your head on my shoulder and try to nap a little until we are there.”

“I am not tired.” Nesta’s response once comes as quick as a shot. “The same bullshit like when you said you were not cold. I know your are tired. Come on, Nes, give it a try.”

Her mouth is pinched and there is a tightness in her eyes when she glances at Cassian. He almost chuckles at her sour expression and looks down on her to where she is wringing her hands in her lap. She is trying so hard to keep up the indifferent facade, it nearly makes Cassian laugh out loud. 

“I will try to sleep, but definitely not on your shoulder.”

“I thought you loved cuddling with me? We have done it for a week now, haven’t—“

Holding her hand up she stops the former general, and when a low chuckle escapes Azriel, he is rewarded with her death pan and quickly shuts up. 

Stiff as a poker, Nesta leans back and forces her burning eyes to close. Her whole body is sore, but she cannot let it show. What would that look like? Cassian is the one who is hurt, not her. Cassian has been shot and acts all tough and strong and she would complain over a few sore muscles and blisters on her feet? Only over her dead body. 

Even though the truck is not that comfortable, exhaustion settles over Nesta like a wave, the last thing she hears are some words of Cassian about how Az is feeling. 

“You know it never gets easy,” Cassian says and gives his brother a sidelong glance. “You can tell me if it has affected you.” “Cass, I just killed a dozen of people, of course it has affected me,” Azriel mumbles and gives his head a little shake. His hands grab the stirring wheel tighter, knuckles turning white, his eyes are trained on the street. He speeds up a little, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “But there is no use to talk about it now. It couldn’t have been avoided, it was what had to be done.”

The former army general slowly bows his head and averts his gaze from Az to look out of his window. His hand still presses down on his side, his hand now covered in the thick red liquid. Breathing is a little difficult now as every inhale burns like a vipers fangs in his chest, but still he tries to act like the strong army soldier he once used to be. He has to, showing weakness and pain now would be for nothing, it wouldn’t get them any further and it wouldn’t help anyone. And he really doesn’t need to be pitied by anyone either. 

“You get this checked immediately when we arrive, Cass!” There is no room for objection in Azriel’s statement and Cassian grumbles a yes, before giving his eyes a tiny roll — overbearing mother-hen. 

“How many are there in the camp?” Cassian then asks, hoping to change the topic for good. Azriel takes a turn and is now heading down a straight, almost endless seeming road. But Cassian can spot high fences in the very far distance, telling him that they are already close to the new Starfall camp. 

“Around twenty. A few that have sought refugee, but most of them we have rescued. Some are from Sangravah.”

Cassian nods in acknowledgment, wondering if Az has finally been able to find his partner. They have lost each other out of sight a few months ago during a mission. Azriel has claimed to be alright, saying it was anyway just a fling, but Cassian knew that deep down his brother’s heart is shattered and Azriel spends every free minute trying to find him because this man hasn’t just been a fling for him. They have a too long history for him to just be a fling. 

“Eris?”

“No.” The answer is tight, cold, fired like a shot and signals Cass that he really does not want to talk about it. Cassina accepts that, does not want to push his brother, knowing he will seek him out to talk when he is ready.  They bounce a little in the car when they drive of the bumpy and in pebbles covered path leading to a gate in the fenced area. Nesta stirs, shifting on the seat. She yawns a little, her hand wiping over her face. 

“How is she?” Azriel then asks, now the one who wants the topic for good.

“She iswonderful. She is out here with two men she barely knows and one of her companions just got shot and now she is taken only god knows where. So obviously, she is doing absolutely amazing.” Nesta sits straight up again, hating that they have talked about her while she slept. During the past six years everyone has always talked about her — she, the one who is immune, the one who survived, the one who got bitten, the one who got attacked, she who was so lucky. But was she really lucky? Is she lucky? Nesta doubts that. Maybe she wanted to die that night as well? Maybe she would have accepted it? Maybe she did not want to live on without knowing what has happened to Feyre? What was about to happen to Elain that night? But apperently the powers that be had different plans for her that night and now she was stuck here in this car. She knows Feyre is alive, but each and every days has to live with the thought of having absolutely no knowledge about Elain. 

“And she has bite, did Rhys tell you that?” Cassian chuckles, clutching his side tighter. 

“And she is about to bite you!” Nesta hisses through clenched teeth and shoots Cassian a glare. 

There is gleeful amusement on his slick with sweat face. His mouth forms a smirk, his tongue poking out to lick over his lower lip. “How did you know that I like that?” He bites down on his lip, watching awareness dawn on Nesta.

She swallows thickly at that comment, heat suddenly filling her from her cleavage up to the top of her head. She hasn’t expected that his implication would have such an affect on her and so she quickly averts her gaze, staring straight ahead. She ignores Azriel in the corner of her eye, trying so hard to fight back a grin. Good God, that is going to be a very long journey, Nesta thinks, but somehow she is no longer so opposed to it. It is and odd feeling, but something has changed.

∙ ∙ • ◦ • ◦ ∙ ∙

“We are here?”

Azriel inclines his head at Nesta, shutting his window after having talked to one guard at a gate. 

The fenced area looks similar to the one she has been in for six years, but then she has actually only seen the experiment room, her bedroom and the place where she was handed over to Cassian, so actually she can’t really tell if it is similar. 

Small flags, attached to the caravans and tents, are flying in the wind, showing the insignia of the Starfall. A feeling of comfort overcomes Nesta — there would be no Darkbringers here.  

Azriel brings the car to a prompt halt and kills off the engine before jumping out. He calls for someone of the name Madja and tells people to bring her here. Then he opens the door on Cassian’s side, helping his best friend out, supporting him and keeping him upright. The former general is quite pale around his nose, sweat building up on his skin and his knees are wobbly. Nesta leaves the car after him and moves to his other side to provide an extra support for him. Together with Azriel they manage to bring Cassian over into a small tent where they place him down on a field bed and just a moment later the woman of the name Madja appears. Nesta sits down on a stool next to the bed, not quite sure what to do, and is quite happy when Azriel does the talking for her.

“That is Nesta Archeron, you know the immune survivor. Cassian has received a graze shot, it is not bad but he has lost quite a lot of blood.”

Turning, Azriel salutes to Nesta and says, “Business is calling, I’ll be back for dinner.” And with that he leaves, strutting out of the tent. 

And so Nesta waits, sits and ponders whether she should help somehow or simply sit here and do nothing. She opts for the latter as she still feels terribly exhausted and drained of energy. Twirling her thumbs she tries to make the time pass quicker. She silently regards how Madja cares for Cassian, cleaning the wound and—

“Come here, girl! Wipe his chest clean while I mix together the paste for the wound.”

Wipe his chest clean? Somehow her breathing halts for a moment, her heart beating a little faster when her eyes land on Cassian’s exposed chest. Even lying down he looks so powerful and large. Swirls of dark ink graze his broad shoulders, his strong pecs — his chest is incredibly well-defined, all sculpted muscles, chiseled, hard and solid and—

Nesta closes her mouth, grabbing the cloth that has been offered to her and crouches down next to Cassian. She carefully begins to run the damp cloth over his chest, clearing it of all the blood.

“You have a very soft touch, Nes,” Cassian drawls and blinks one eye open to silently regard her. He loves how carefuls he is with him, her eyes focused on her hand holding the cloth. And he also likes what she looks like right now. Her cheeks are a little flushed, her hair is, in all honesty, one big mess, there is dirt on her face and her shirt is slightly torn. But she looks beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. A dull feeling appears in his heart at this thought, remorse and regret colliding inside of him, has he once thought so about Tanwyn. 

Could it truly be that he has finally managed to move on? He had no time to think further about it when Madja appears in his vision and smiles. “I’ll put some cream on the wound, wrap a bandage around it and then you are good to go. You two should find something to eat!”

It is what they do once Cassian is fully patched up. They enter a large tent for food storage and are soon again met with Azriel — so it has to be evening already? He said he would join them for dinner, Nesta wonders. She has somehow lost sense of time and started to live just for the moment. 

“What do you want?” “Does it matter what I want?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them. 

“Well, and with that we are back the grumpy, sour Nesta,” Cassian huffs, and takes a step forward to look into one big blue box. He winces slightly when he leans over it, his wound obviously still causing him pain, but he clamps down on the pain and bites the inside of his cheek.

“Cass,” Azriel cautions and hands Nesta small box with rice and some meat in it. “It is not easy. For none of us.”

Cassian slowly bows his head and digs into a larger box, fishing out a package of beef jerky. “Aha!” he cheers and rips it open. When Azriel has also found his meal they sit down together on plastic stools outside the foot tent, watching the sun lower on the horizon. 

“We can only stay here for a couple of days, then we continue,” Cassian informs, first looking at Nesta then at Azriel.

“I am joining you from here on,” Azriel says and takes a bite from the meal in his box. Nesta is avoiding direct eye-contact with either — she just wants to go unseen, does not want to participate in their conversation, simply does not want to talk or do anything. All she wants to do, is wash herself and then sleep. And this is what she is offered when she has finished her meal. 

Azriel brings them to a large tent with field beds and shows Nesta a separate one where which is filed with large bowels of water where she can wash herself. 

Sweet oblivion welcomes her the moment she falls into bed, and buries her head in the thin pillow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt @crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me@swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @headcanonheadcase. @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #acotar #acosf

[neighbourskid]

Dave? Dave.

It's been quite a bit since I've written anything here, huh? Well, I guess as it has been for pretty much everyone, life has been kinda strange for a while now. Despite vaccine roll-outs and continually changing safety regulations, there's still a global pandemic on, and everyone is trying to navigate this reality the best they can. For once, we are all, generally speaking, in the same boat now (sure, there are huge differences between countries because capitalism fucking sucks and rich greedy humans are once again proof that things need to change asap, but overall, we all have to deal with this pandemic).

But I don't actually want to talk about the pandemic, it just exists as a frame of what I do wanna talk about.

As I have mentioned before, when the pandemic hit, I was in the last semester of my undergrad studies and writing my Bachelor thesis. Or that's what I was supposed to do, anyway. I did do a lot of reading for it, early in the first lockdown after university closed and we were all attending from home. I was lucky, I had no classes, I only had like three scheduled meetings to check in on progress of the thesis, but otherwise I was free of zoom calls and attempting to attend university digitally. So I read.

After a while, reading became taking a book with me into the sun, glancing at one or two pages, and then just napping for most of the day, and spending my evenings either playing video games or watching some tv show or movie. At some point, I felt like now was the perfect time to rewatch all fifteen seasons of CRIMINAL MINDS, so I did that, instead of writing my thesis. I still occasionally read, but most of the days I just felt exhausted and unmotivated so I stayed in bed and binged my crime show.

As the deadline for the thesis started approaching, and the time I had left fell under a month, a switch in my brain seemed to be activated and, oh, hello, suddenly there was a certain drive there for that thesis again. Which lasted exactly until an email from university dinged into my inbox a few days later, informing me that I would get another month for my thesis, due to the pandemic. And away that motivation and drive went, immediately.

Not much later I had a session with the therapist I was seeing at the time, because of the hormone treatment I had started early that same year. I had talked to him about my concern that I might have ADHD before because I didn't feel like there was anything we needed to talk about related to my transition, so I brought it up again here. I told him how my thesis was going -- or rather, how it wasn't going at all -- and finally, as I told him about some of the issues I experienced while trying to do work for it, he acknowledged that I may indeed have some attention regulation issues. He prescribed me medication to try out, and -- wonder oh wonder -- suddenly I was writing my thesis. I ended up finishing it on time (even though a week before I had a moment of "all of this is garbage, I will never pass, I should start the whole thing from scratch") and got a decent grade for it, too. I've been on those meds since.

Over the last, I don't know how many years, I've always known that there was something a bit wonky about my brain. There were always these things that seemed to come so easy to other people, and try as I might, I just couldn't make them happen. I, presumably, had a lot of neurotypical friends. I also have friends with depression, BPD, anxiety disorders and other neurodivergencies. I have family members with autism. I know my mom suspected I might be on that spectrum as well.

Reading up on many of those things I never felt like any of them described what I was experiencing. There were certain traits, sure, but mostly there was a lack of what I actually did experience in most of them. Even ADHD, when reading about the "required" issues and traits, doing those self-diagnosing questionnaires, I just never saw what I felt represented. And then I started reading about what people with diagnosed ADHD had to say about how they experience things. I ignored the more medical or clinical information, and just looked for people talking about how they navigate their lives with ADHD. And then all of a sudden it was, oh, yeah this, this is relatable. This is where my brain's at.

Suddenly it made sense that caffeine didn't do nothing for me, that a nice, warm cup of coffee put me right to sleep. It made sense how, after only a month, suddenly a well beloved hobby or tv show was suddenly of no interest whatsoever. Staring at the wall for three hours instead of doing a simple task. Drawing in class so that I could pay attention to what is being said. The inability to remember much of my life before 6th grade. Having to bounce my leg so I could read a simple text. Needing to visually break a book down into chapters with colourful post-its to keep me from being overwhelmed by the length of the book. And so many other things. Suddenly, there was a reason for that.

I've always liked doing personality quizzes. Or doing stuff related to my zodiac sign even if I don't believe in astrology per se. Finding out what my Enneagram number is. Or my Myers-Briggs type. Not because I think those things define me or describe me to a T, but because they give me a vocabulary. They give me options. I love answering a bunch of questions and then getting a wall of text telling me This Is Who You Are and then I get to pick out what is accurate and what isn't. It gives me words to describe who I am that I didn't have before.

And it is the same thing with posts or videos of people with ADHD. It gives me a vocabulary for the things I experience and it lets me express those things in a way I wasn't able to before. Before, I was like, doing things that my brain doesn't want to do, feels like running headfirst into a wall because there is no way above, around, or underneath it. There is no door, no ladder, no tunnel, no nothing. There is only running headfirst into it until maybe, hopefully, it cracks. Preferably before my head does. But that is exhausting and most of the time, I prefer to not get through the wall at all, if what it takes is going headfirst through it. Now, I know that what that is, is a dopamine deficiency. The task that needs doing, the task that this wall is, doesn't give my brain enough dopamine. There is no satisfaction, there is nothing to gain from that task, so the brain isn't interested.

One of the things that I recently discovered and helps me a lot in this quest of figuring out how my brain works, is this guy Connor on tiktok, who also has ADHD. His videos are both hilarious and informative. And also incredibly relatable. They might be silly haha funny videos on the dear old internet, but I walk away from most of them going, oh! oh that makes sense, good to know.

He occasionally talks about how ADHD is completely misnamed and how Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder does not actually accurately describe what exactly people with ADHD lack. In one of his videos, he calls it DAVE instead. It's silly, and sounds a bit dumb, but I kinda like it. Dave. Dopamine Attention Variability Executive-Disfunction. Dave. I like Dave.

Y'know, I don't mind having ADHD. Presumably, I've lived with it my whole life so far. And it's annoying as shit some of the time. Especially when things need to get done and they just won't. But I don't mind that, especially now that I know that this is what it is. I've always feared that if I finally do go to a therapist and try to figure out what my brain is up to, they'll just tell me that I'm fine and there's nothing to worry about. And at first, my therapist did say I was psychologically unremarkable. But I guess if you've lived like this your whole life and nobody has really picked up on it, even a therapist doesn't notice (it's called masking, I've learned, thanks Connor).

But knowing is good. Knowing means I can learn things that help. I can take medication when needed. And, looking at the grades I'm currently getting in my graduate studies? Hells yeah, taking that medication and knowing how to deal with certain aspects of my brain helps a lot. It is incredibly funny to me that the best grades I have gotten in my entire academic career have been achieved in my Master's studies during a global pandemic. There is currently an actual real possibility that I may graduate summa cum laude. In my MA. That is insane!

Anyway, I am avoiding tasks by writing this right now. Oh, the irony. I'm gonna try and do those tasks now. Y'all take care. Cheers!

#personal blog #alex talks #adhd #connordewolfe #tiktok

[cowboyshit]

twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th!  where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her!  biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

#ashleys playin #not wrestling related #long post for ts #long post

[blameitonmyjuuse]

For @austonandersen who wanted quarantined Freddie and Auston.

--

Though Freddie would never admit it, the NHL’s pausing of the season was not a wholly unwelcome idea. It was horrible, yeah, and incredibly frustrating because the Leafs were still solidly in the playoffs and slowly coming back out of their downward spiral, but.

But. 

It’s not that Freddie was exhausted, per se, but being the starting goaltender for a team who seemed to constantly hover on the edge between absolute greatness and the absolute laughing stock of the NHL could sometimes take its toll. Game after game, night after night-- sometimes Freddie did wish for a break in between wishing for better defense and a Cup.

For just a single night to pause, relax on the couch, and not think of an impending match where it would either be a win and he’d have to push himself harder and harder to get to the next one, or a loss and it would be him against the entire Leafs fan base.

He did, however, wish that a global pandemic wasn’t the cause of this break.

Nevertheless, the lack of people on the afternoon streets while Freddie rounded the final corner to his apartment, sweat creating a tacky sort of stick on his back as his final few moments jogging faded into deep breathing, was not the worst thing in the world. 

The Doorman tipped a professional greeting as Freddie made his way to the elevator, taking mouthfuls of water in and switching his AirPods into their protective case. 

The ride was short; short enough that Freddie was still half reading a Danish news article about new cases when he stepped out, and traced his way down to his apartment, and opened the door. 

He took a step beyond the doorway, half a second to read the sentence, træffe beskyttelsesforanstaltninger for at bremse spredningen---

And then stumbled. 

Damnit.

Freddie sighed and glanced down at the pair of black and white Nikes about three sizes too small and 90% too flashy to be his own in the middle of the doorway. They were no doubt toed off without a thought, even though their owners most certainly knew that Freddie would be coming in from his afternoon jog and wouldn’t be able to miss them.

He stared balefully at the shoes and stepped over them, passing the shoe rack a couple steps further inside the hallway, where two other similar pairs had been forgotten over time.

Freddie toed off his own shoes, took another sip of water and peeked around the hallway. No sign, so that meant the owner of these ridiculous shoes had ventured deeper down the hall and into the master bedroom. 

Sure enough, as Freddie passed through the entrance to his bedroom, shucking off a sweat-soaked tank top to the dirty clothes hamper, he noticed steam billowing from the master bath’s doorway.

“Matty?” Freddie called, as though the visitor would be anyone else. 

There was a pause and the shower water turned off. A few seconds passed and Freddie used the brief moment of silence to open his dresser to pull out a pair of black boxers. 

Then the bathroom door opened and a dark head peeked out, “Yeah?”

Freddie didn’t answer, just took in the sight as Auston emerged fully, hair slick and white towel tied haphazardly across his waist. Auston dragged a smaller towel through his hair, “What’s up?”

Freddie tossed him the black boxers, “How many times have I asked that you put your shoes on the rack?”

Auston grinned and ran the towel through his hair again, flexing his biceps. Freddie, of course, was drawn to the movement, to the way the muscle clenched and relaxed, before flicking cool his eyes back to Auston’s flushed face. Auston shrugged, “See, I meant to do that, but the promise of your shower was too much.”

Freddie didn’t buy it. When not focused on hockey, Auston’s main goal seemed to be driving Freddie insane. Insane, in several varying ways that both pissed Freddie off and made something burning hot burrow in his chest.

“You mean-- the identical shower to yours downstairs, in your own apartment?”

Auston shrugged again and scratched at the cut of his hip, where tiny rivulets of water were pooling and absorbing into the towel. “My apartment is missing things.”

“Hm,” Freddie murmured before shifting by Auston, taking care to pass close enough that he could feel the heat of the shower on Auston’s skin and smell his own shampoo and body wash on him, but not quite close enough to touch him. He shut the bathroom door behind him and pulled his jogging pants and underwear off. 

Showering was a quick, perfunctory affair. Freddie didn't let his thoughts linger or stray-- especially not to the boy no doubt making himself comfortable on the couch. If he did, he'd be in there for hours and Auston, who might just be the most impatient boy in the world, would certainly have something to say about it.

Sure enough, when Freddie was dressed in soft grey sweatpants, socks, and nothing else, Auston was lounging across the couch, face buried in his phone and thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

The TV was off, like it had been since the PGA announced that golf had been suspended for the time being. Freddie frowned at the thought, but leaned over to swipe the remote from the coffee table. When he glanced back at Auston, Auston’s eyes were on Freddie. He wordlessly curled his legs up to his chest, and when Freddie sat down, taking up the space where Matty’s feet had been, Auston spread out again and rested his calves on Freddie’s lap.

Freddie traced a line down Auston’s shin in thanks and turned the TV to the NHL channel. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Auston texting and then pausing and texting again, and Freddie mindlessly drawing patterns on the warm skin of Auston’s legs while watching highlights between a Stars and Predators game from last month. 

Auston shifted and poked Freddie’s abs softly with his toe. “Mitchy wants to know where I am.”

“Does he want to come over?”

“He can’t. We’re self-quarantining, remember? Players aren’t supposed to be around each other.”

“Oh yes,” Freddie said with a pointed glance to the distinct lack of six feet between them, “Self- quarantining.”

But Auston’s attention was back on his phone. Freddie allowed it for a few more minutes, but as Auston’s eyebrow furrows like they do when he begins to start stressing about something hockey related, he sat up and snagged the IPhone from Auston’s hand.

“Dude,” Auston groaned half-heartedly, briefly trying to grab it back before giving up and laying back. He looked up at Freddie from under his eyelashes and the thing is--

The thing is, Freddie loves it when he does that. For a kid who had an entire dynasty thrust upon him, for a kid who’s had to grow up in one of the harshest spotlights in their sport, when he’s looking up at him like that, Freddie is reminded that Matts is still just a good-hearted kid. It reminds him that the quarantine isn’t all bad because it has given him quiet times where he and Matty can just be. 

He must be doing that intense creeper stare that Auston bitches about, because Auston was nudging him again, “What?”

Freddie wanted to tell him all of that, but he doesn’t think he has the words in either English or Danish to try and get what he meant across. So he shrugged, “You’ll see him soon. All of them.”

“I’m just bored. I want to play hockey.” Auston threw his head back on the pillow his head was cushioned on, “That’s all I want to do right now.”

The inflection Auston uses, the slight undercurrent of whine, well, Freddie has never pretended that it didn’t do things to him. 

It always had; even when Auston was a fresh faced nineteen year old who was just learning how much he could push before Freddie would react. 

And Auston knew it, whether he used it meaningfully or not. 

Freddie tilted his head and added some tone in his voice, “That’s all you want to do?”

Auston picked his head up slowly, “Well I mean-- not all I want to do. I- I mean, I can think of other things I’d be fine doing.”

Freddie let the fingers grazing against Auston’s shin drift higher, smiling slightly when Auston automatically opened his legs, “No, if you want to play hockey, we could play Xbox hockey.”

“Hm,” Auston hummed, lips quirked up at the ends as he pretended to be deep in thought. When he grew tired of waiting, he sat up, and Freddie had no problem using his larger frame to haul Auston up completely, until he could resettle in Freddie’s lap, either leg sprawled adjacent to Freddie’s thighs, “I actually think I just got a better offer.” 

He did love the sound of that. Nevertheless, Freddie let his hands splay over the stretched cotton of Auston’s boxers. When Auston smiled wider and let his eyes flicker closed, eyes draped loosely around Freddie’s neck, Freddie lifted his right palm and brought it down hard.

Auston’s eyes opened wide at the pop.

Freddie lifted Auston off and climbed to his feet. He made his way around the couch and started towards his bedroom without a look back, “If you had picked up your shoes, you wouldn’t have to wait.”

Freddie privately smiled when he heard Auston curse and stumble over himself to put his shoes on the rack. 

#for miss katie #who has been wanting auston and freddie fluff during the virus for a hot moment #auston x freddie #maple leafs #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews #frederik andersen #freddie andersen #also its been a million years since ive written #so apologies if its trash #i also have never written rpf before #sorry to my mother and to the real auston and freddie #if anyone shows this to them they can die by my blade #hockey

[artyrogue]

Blind Date Gaming: Konami GB Collection Vol. 3

Boy, I am WIPED after my date last night. It all started out as it usually does -- a quick visit to PRANG for an introduction to my next potential video game suitor. Who could have guessed that I would served up 4 dates! They all came together at once under the guise of Konami GB Collection Vol. 3.

I was greeted at first by an anime schoolgirl with a huge hand and quite possibly a contender for the weirdest hairstyles I've seen in a while. What is that, a grass-inspired mohawk laid over top a normal haircut?

Is this what the cows that make cowlicks eat?

What happened next was an eventful set of speed dates. This onslaught left me with no down time, thus the exhaustion. However, I did end up meeting some nice games. I'll speed through them each quick-like to keep this from being overly long. Luckily each of the games are pretty short (as expected from Game Boy games)!

First up is Gradius II! Now, I've never actually played a Gradius game, so I can't say if this is a port, some reconfigured version of Gradius II, or what. What I CAN say is that it has tight controls, beautiful graphics, interesting bosses, and some fun gameplay.

Looks like a rocky magic 8 ball

You start off hangin' out with what I assume are your dad and mom starships. Aww, family time! Soon, however, someone decks your old man and blasts your momma fulla lasers. Obviously disturbed, you fly forward and get chased by the perpetrator through a buncha rocks until you escape.

Good thing this guy doesn't feel like firing at me for whatever reason

...Except you kind of don't? You end up going through a bunch of planetary landscapes, shootin' dudes and grabbin' powerups that let you fire lasers and stuff. Pew pew! You eventually get captured, break out, and summarily fly through a ship, an asteroid belt, and I think some alien's guts? I'm not sure; I never went to med school for interplanetary digestive systems. Bosses fight you at every turn, and they are so sweet. Like, I don't always know what I'm attacking, but it just looks so cool that I really don't care!

Ever want to fight a kneeling, fanged alien stuck in a wall with detachable mouthy-brains? Yeah, well now you do, obviously!

In the end you find the enemy ship that assassinated your nuclear family with nuclear weapons, commit your own brand of galactic revenge, and I assume go on with your day in a half-arsed way, never addressing the journey you just went through for fear of sparking up some majorly weird PTSD.

Next up is some Castlevania game! It claims to be Castlevania II, but don't think it's Simon's Quest since it doesn't have slow-scrolling text boxes telling me that night is a poor time to explore the world when suffering from a magical adversary's angry sentiments. Instead, you just go about whippin' junk. Alright, I can be a lion tamer for the undead.

Why do cultists always gotta wear hoods? Can't they wear like a polo and some comfy slacks?

So in this installment, you can apparently shoot fireballs from a fully-upgraded whip, so it's instantly MUCH easier than most Castelvania games. The list of enemies is kind of lacking, but it was enough to feel competent. The level design was pretty spot-on, which is par for the course, though for some reason this game has a love affair with ropes? They're EVERYWHERE, but there's enough variation in the levels to give them pass. For example, some areas have auto-directional-pulling ropes, some ropes are spider webs made by enemies, some require quick sliding to avoid obstacles, etc.

You gotta wonder, does the guy living here have to go through all these traps every day just to get his mail? And how does he carry groceries back to his (probably rope-decorated) kitchen?

The boss fights were definitely memorable. Some of their designs were flat-out brilliant, and they were all pretty fun! Your sub-weapons weren't really that useful here, but that's fine. The bosses, too, were made a little easier with the projectile whip, but the designers struck a good balance between fun and hard.

These guys shoot out vertebrae in an arc, transferring them from one head to the other. I don't have a quip here, it was just a stupidly awesome designed boss that I wanted to gush about for a bit!

Well, perhaps I spoke too soon. The bosses were all fun except for the last 3 in the game. Allow me to whine and complain about them for a bit, if you will! The first was a tunneling snake on a forced scrolling screen that made you take damage unless you memorized where he was going to surface next (I HATE memorization-by-death gameplay). The next was a fellow Belmont who would relentlessly whip the crap outta you, throw swords all over the screen, and would probably be nigh impossible if I didn't have Holy Water. The final was Dracula, who I suppose gets a pass for being hard since he was the final boss...but he, too, was pretty much a memorization-by-death fight, too. The dude has 6 orbs revolving around him that spread out, essentially making 85% of the screen unsafe. Unless you know the specific spot to crouch down for the given position he's in, you get hurt, and you get hurt pretty badly. Oh, and you can really only hit him once per attack, so you'd better learn the safe spots for all 8 of his attack spots and hope you can hurt him and get into your safe position before taking damage.

ouch ouch ouch OUCH

In the end, it was overall a pretty fun time. Konami definitely knows how to make a good sidescrolling action game, which is probably why they're half of the name of the 'Metroidvania' genre. Go team Belmont!

Next up: Yie Ar Kung~Fu! What is this? I've never heard of it. It's a simple fighting game where you face off against 5 fighters, each with their own weapons and special moves. You play as a normal weaponless guy who can only kick and punch, because that's fair? Regardless, you must persevere through 4 rounds of these 5 fights, each time with your foes getting slightly harder.

Mmyep, this is fair.

My trademark fighting game strategy of sweeping seems to work for the most part, though as the difficulty ramps up, the other fighters move with ridiculous speed between attacks. Eventually, the game just becomes 100% about approaching a foe with more range than you, which obviously is the main focus of fighting games. What's that? Combos? Pffft, those are lame, just have the enemies fly across the ring like a sugar-high Jack Russel Terrier.

So this guy's power is to propel himself like a missile and look like an absolute goon while doing so

There's also a mini-game where you hit things thrown at you, but like they show up so quickly and your animation speed is so slow that it's impossible to do very well. It was an okay game overall, though, but I can sort of see why it isn't as well-known as Gradius or Castlevania.

Last game: Antarctic Adventure! It's a penguin-based racing game! I think? Does this count as a racing game? Well, you race against the clock, so sure. You gotta move at top speed through an icy wasteland, avoiding sea lions and holes in the ice.

I like how this sea lion looks after getting plastered in the face by a penguin moving at ~120 km/hr. Is he in shock? Is he alive? Should I notify his next of kin?

The lore is actually pretty deep in this game. The world has fallen into ruin due to global warming, and the glacier sheets on Antarctica are slowly melting away. As a penguin trained in espionage and terrorism, you must travel to the different embassies that many countries have propped up in an attempt to stake a claim in possibly the only livable area in the near future.

The french are planning to build replicas of their famous landmarks here, like the Ice-full Tower and Arctic de Triomphe.

You're not exactly racing as much as you are keeping ahead of the authorities pursuing you for planting bombs in the embassies. If you successfully plant your payloads in all of the embassies across all of Antarctica, you destroy their chances of bringing cultural imperialism to the local wildlife. Your customs are at stake! You must cast your empathy aside for the greater good of penguin-kind!

Also, you can sometimes turn into a helicopter? Not sure what that was about.

Okay, okay, yeah, I may have embellished a bit there. No, it's not as cool as that. You just run from one place to the next and heck if I'll ever find out why miscellaneous countries happen to have little castles in a barren arctic wasteland. People's taxes at work, I guess!

Oh right, there's also a fifth option on the main menu. It's Ms. O.C. Anime Girl explaining things about the games to you. I can't read anything she's saying, though, so I can only imagine the shady koala statue in the back has some relevance to her dialogue.

So that ends an exhausting series of dates. Whew! Glad you toughed it out with me. As I've completed all of the games this time, I didn't think another date was warranted. However, Gradius and Castlevania were fun enough to say that sure, I guess, it's worth going on another date in the future. Maybe it'd be better to find the original games, though, instead of this particular port. I can only assume the extra screen real estate, better sound effects, and greater ROM size would only enhance their experiences. And speaking of experiences, grab a Sprite of Passage from the jar over there on your way out! It's mint-flavored and can double as a water purification tab if you're ever stuck somewhere in the wilderness!

Man, I would kill to watch a skeleton ballet

#blinddategaming #gameboy #gradius #castlevania #otherdumbstuff

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki SSL Cross Short Story Kazama “Hobby” Translation

Only one SSl Kazama Cross Short story left....also incoming rant at the bottom as I’m feeling freaking exhausted and annoyed.  -.-

Enjoy the translation... if you are able to. [lol yeah im also upset]

Hakuoki SSL Cross Short Story Kazama x Hobby

Translation by KumoriYami

Inoue: 3rd year class 3 students, hello. Although it no longer seems/may no longer be necessary to introduce yourself, give your name. I am the school cafeteria's Inoue. [cafeteria can be subsiituted w/ canteen, dining hall, etc.]

noue: Today's fifth period class/lecture is special, as I am in charge of it as the lecturer/as I will be your lecturer.

Inoue: Although wearing this is a bit embarrassing, nevertheless treat me kindly [alt: please take care of me].

Kazama: Ah. Unexpectedly having you come to teach class/teach this one [me], is a big deal. [Alt: I can't believe you've come to teach me, this is no small task/ this is not meant for someone without capability.] [not sure????]

Kazama: Hey, what is the contents of today's class/lecture? If it's too boring this one [I] will not spare you.

Inoue: Today I'll be teaching you how to write your resume. As third year students, you will face the opportunity/prospect/challenge of getting/going to university and getting jobs/getting a job, and I believe that there will be more opportunities to write resumes/ believe that the opportunities for writing resumes will increase.

Inoue: Therefore the school has decided to entrust me with sharing my knowledge with everyone/So the school has decided for me to give a lecture to everyone as someone with work experience.

Inoue: Next please prepare [take?] a blank resume. Discuss with your classmates and think about your strengths, and write them down in that column. [Probably meaning: Fill in the blanks]

Kazama: ——Full name: Kazama Chikage. Age: unknown. Specialties(/skills): there is nothing that this one/I cannot do.

Kazama: Next is hobbies.... Let's write down observing human behaviour. [I think?]

Inoue: Well, it turns out that Kazama's hobby is observing human behaviour. I believe/ I'm sure you have a lot of experience in observing human behaviour, [so] you can use these experiences as a highlight to introduce yourself/highlight in introducing yourself...

Kazama:......What are you talking about?

Inoue: Nn?

Kazama: Did you think that I would actually observe the common rabble? That's simply ridiculous. Kazama: To be my target of observation during the day and night [alt: at all times], [there is] only one person. [basically: There is only one person who has my interest at all times.]

Kazama: Right/That's right/correct,  that is my wife, Yukimura Chizuru, only this one person [only her]!

Inoue:............

Inoue: That is not calling observing human behaviour, [rather that] feels as if should belong to a more dangerous category/classification.....

Kazama: Almost forget. In the spouse [martial status] column draw [put] in a “〇”.

Inoue: You can't fake [a/your] resume......

----

i’m not sure if i’ll get to  finishing the cxm 2017 otomate party drama this month.... 

P.S. i’m going to rant now since i am 1000000000000000000000000000000% sick of the federal election news coverage. [sorry but this is how I cope. also i intend to vote and did watch the federal leaders’ debate]

I’m seriously fucking tired of hearing about the federal election that I will be voting in. I wish people would realize that regardless of how good it may be to have more money in your wallet, a point i will not argue against since money is a necessary resource for any country since economic activity is required to do anything, including investing in transitional and cleaner alternatives and technologies, but it will mean less than nothing if you don’t have a livable environment or air to breathe. The lack of understanding on this by the what-will-not-be-named c-party of Canada, especially aggravates me. If they really wanna scrap the carbon tax, that’s fine, but they seriously need an actual environmental plan that will do something aside from giving b.s. lip service. I mean, really, will any amount of money be enough if you can’t breathe? Just look at what air pollution has done to Asia.

I’ve always said and believed that if you don’t have your health, than you have nothing, but why does it seem that so many politicians seem to believe that money is like the only thing people should care for? The threat of climate change is very real, and it’s most direct impact on people as individuals will be through the air unless someone somehow don’t breathe in oxygen. Increased air pollution, and the subsequent drop in air quality has contributed to the deaths over 2 million people every year and ignoring this, which has gotten significantly worse due to increased global temperatures, is simply unacceptable.

It just feels like no one thinks long term about the environment in politics. No one seems to care or connect how global warming will actually have effect the economy. For the example of air pollution, increased sickness and diseases related to the increase in pollutants in the air will mean more people needing healthcare, which will in turn affect  the number of people actually contributing to the economy. With an already aging population, and one that is also shrinking, that also means less people contributing, and increased deaths or just people being unable to work as much since they either require care, will overall mean less money they can spend to support local economic activities, which will then result in the recipients of said money with less money to do the same thing and result in less economic activity overall, which therefore also means less economic growth, stability and prosperity, and less money to support those same social services that people will need to rely on as the demand for healthcare increases.    

*sighhhhhh* 

Seriously i could go on, but I’ll refrain from writing an essay right now... though I will say that I’ve done projects/speeches that were related to the the environment and climate change in some way for almost every single year I was in school since grade 4 and I do my best to follow news related to the environment so I do know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, this will probably be the only semi-political/semi-environmental rant I make before election day... and until next year... at least unless something seriously pisses me off after the election ends.  

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki game translation #Hakuoki SSL Cross Story Translation #hakuoki ssl #kazama chikage #inoue genzaburo

[likesugarandcyanide]

Limitless [Part 2] These Words [Katsuki Bakugou]

“Congrats Ai-chan.”

Uraraka Ochaco gives me a gentle hug. I thank her and also congratulate the cheerful teenage girl on renewing her pro-license – she deserves it more than I do. Ochaco ranks in the top 10 of class 1-A, which puts her in the attention of several hero agencies in the country. Yet, she seems almost certain that she’ll continue her internship with Gunhead when the Battle Hero calls for her.

I smile as she explains this to me; truly happy for my closest friend. The noisy, unbalanced chatter in the room drowns out the conversation beyond this, and I find myself slipping into my thoughts.

The first day of the rewards ceremony is now at its end. I am exhausted and very sore from the previous day. The enflamed skin beneath my sundress is now a cluster of dark bruises that cover my shoulders and most of my left side, but I have much to show for my efforts; my license and a full list of agencies wanting me to join them.

I should be in high spirits, but I’m not. This time 2 years ago I had started my career as a no-name hero, but now I see the name Blue Flux almost everywhere I go. No longer do I have to hide in the shadow of my mentor – Backdraft. I can at last begin working as a pro hero, however, I have no idea where to start. At least 10% of my recommendations come from global beauty companies, claiming I am the next big name in perfume and cosmetics. The rest is split between model agencies and public service trades. They all sound so promising, but few of them are stationed in the country. Backdraft advises me to work abroad if I want to be someone in this world. However, so much keeps me rooted here – everybody knows Bakugou Katsuki is the reason for my doubts.

My heart is heavy with grief at this realization. I might just give up my livelihood for him. I do care for the arrogant blonde, but I doubt he’d be so selfish as to ask me to forsaken my dream for him. Would he even do the same for me? I certainly hope not. All these years of staying by his side, encouraging him, pushing him to let go of his overconfident nature – I slowly forgot that I am suppose to be his girlfriend. Our relationship is dicey at best, but along the way, I think we decided that our world would be lonely without the other in it.

I think I may truly love the man he’s become.

“Ai-chan, are you okay?” A gentle tap brings me out of my thoughts and once again the chatter of the room fills my ears. I strain to hear Ochaco as her mouth forms with words.

“Sorry. The room is kind of loud.”

She nods, leaning closer so that I can hear her. “Is this better? I was asking you about the after party tonight. Are you going?”

Momo’s after party. I nearly asked a stupid question. Clearly I remember Momo bringing it up before the ceremony – her parents are out of town. She set up the entire dining hall for a big get-together, and I’m sure she invited more than class 1-A to attend. But I already have plans. A certain blonde and his promise of alone time cross my mind.

“I can’t attend this time,” I decline. “Katsuki and I have plans to be alone tonight. I’m not certain of his plans, but I haven’t had a single date with him in 2 months.”

I need to face the truth; I’m sexually frustrated. I want Katsuki and if I give up this chance, I doubt we’ll have another shot at it anytime soon. My skin begins to warm up. I hate lying to Ochaco, but I also wish to avoid the topic of my lack of intimacy as of late. My sex life is not something that I share too often, especially with my best friend. Fortunately, Ochaco usually doesn’t ask questions. She promises to tell Momo that I can’t attend, and I hug her one last time, congratulating her again as I slink off into the crowd.

Once I make it out of the gymnasium and into the less overcrowded hallway, dogging the press as I do, I take out my cell phone. The last message on the screen is from Katsuki around 15 minutes ago. He informs me that he’ll be in the classroom, but he won’t wait long. I quickly send a reply and rush up the stairs to class 1-A.

The door is wide open when I get there. Softly I catch my breath and peek into the room. Just as he said, Katsuki is at his desk, resting his leg over the top. His face is buried in his cell phone, but his expression is distant. I’ll admit, he’s so handsome like this – without a care in the world. I slide my phone out and snap a picture of him, quickly sending it to his phone with the caption ‘so serious’ below it. A loud ping is heard and his eyes bolt up to meet my own.

For a second, I think I see relief in his eyes. I step into the room and move over to his desk, standing behind him so that I can see what he’s looking so distantly at. The blonde snaps his phone shut immediately as I comment on it. He’s looking at a picture of us, one from middle school his mother took before the school festival.

“Where did you find that one?” I recall it being deleted, but I guess a copy made it into Katsuki’s phone.

“Does it matter?”

I shake my head; no it doesn’t. I bury my fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt and gently rub my thumbs against the muscles in his back. I may not have realized it earlier, because of the hustle that came with the assembly, but Katsuki looks really nice. His outfit is made of silk; all black with the exception of the tie that hangs loosely around his neck. It reminds me of his eyes, so very beautiful.

I lean forward and press my lips to the back of his head. “You look really nice.” I slide my hands over his shoulders and onto his chest, rolling the buttons of his vest around the tip of my fingers. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” I add.

Katsuki’s warm hands grab my own, stopping me from tugging at his clothing. “Are you finished here?” He makes it obvious that he’s not into these types of assemblies. Fighting is were his heart is at. I can relate.

I nod my head and silently move out of his way, allowing him the room to stand. Katsuki does so, shoving his phone into the pocket of his dress pants. He acts out of character for someone who just made it to an important milestone in his life, but I suppose he’s just tired after the long day. The Katsuki of our middle school days would be acting like a stuck-up brat right about now, so it could be worse. Still, I have to wonder why he’s been so distant lately.

“Are you okay?” I let my fingers curl around his tie, trying to fix it. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

“What’s to talk about?” Katsuki grabs my wrist.

I lift a brow. “This isn’t you. Look, I don’t know what happened to you yesterday, but you’ve been distant. I’ve given you space since then, but this is ridiculous. Katsuki, you’ve never been this cold.”

“It’s none of your business, shitty girl.” The blonde pulls at my arm, attempting to pull me along. I don’t follow him at first, but he looks at me, a heart breaking look in his eyes, and I listen without complaint.

By the time we make it back to Shizuoka Prefecture I am furious. Katsuki says nothing the entire ride back, and stays mostly to himself, ignoring my questions. But his eyes speak volumes, holding an intensity that could burn the entire world to ashes. This is unusual, since Katsuki typically acts very intimidating towards others when he is troubled. He stays in his head, but he’s also very rude. This includes to me as well.

I hate to see him like this, especially since I don’t know what’s wrong with him. My fingers rub small and gentle circles onto his warm skin, but his grip remains limp. Still, I clutch his hand the entire walk to his parent’s house. However, by the time we arrive, I decide that I’ve had enough of this bullshit.

Katsuki opens the door, allowing us to enter. I release his hand as we remove our shoes at the entrance hall, before walking into the dark and empty living room – Mitsuki and Masaru are probably at work. The blonde quickly moves pass me toward the kitchen, but I reach out and stop him, curling my arms tightly around his waist. I lean my cheek against the back of his shirt and take in his warm scent.

“I want answers,” I demand. “So don’t lie to me. It pisses me off when you do.”

Katsuki flinches at this. He yanks my arms from his waist and turns to me. “Don’t play that bullshit with me. I told you it was none of your business, woman.”

“Maybe not,” I hiss. “But I’m your fucking girlfriend. I deserve to know if something is bothering you. This isn’t fair, Katsuki.”

I can’t help myself. Something in me snaps. I cup my hands around the blonde’s face and press my lips against his. After about a second of this I feel Katsuki move against me. He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me roughly into him. But just as the kiss starts, it quickly ends. Katsuki slips his arms around my shoulders and gently moves me back.

I shake my head. “Don’t push me away. I know you want this just as much.” It’s apparent he does. The rise in the front of his dress pants make it obvious. He grunts quietly as I press against him through the fabric, stroking my fingers up and down his length.

“So fucking impatient,” Katsuki hisses. He pushes me back once again and holds a finger in front of my face. “One second. Sit down and I’ll be right back.”

Whatever. He slips out of my reach. I watch him disappear into the kitchen and I move over to the couch, sitting with a loud huff; loud enough that I hope he can hear me cuss him from beneath my breath. The house is eerily silent after a while, but I can still faintly hear Katsuki shuffling around in the kitchen. He returns moments later with a glass in his hand and glances at me steadily.

“In the floor, not on the couch.”

My eyes widen. The nerve of him. I am injured; I don’t want to sit on the floor and risk hurting my back more than it already is. The wounds are nothing more than contusions on my skin, but they hurt regardless. I raise a brow in uncertainty, but in the end I sigh and ease myself onto the floor with the couch to my back.

Katsuki disappears from my line of sight, and seconds later, I feel him behind me. His sturdy legs rest on either side of my shoulders. The television turns on; an anime featuring an extremely overpowered superhero is playing, but I don’t pay any attention to it. I just want to figure out the angle Katsuki is playing at.

All at once I hear the zipper on my dress release. Warm, calloused hands cover my upper arms and slide the thick straps down my shoulders. I flinch involuntarily as his fingers gently rub against my skin. Katsuki instantly stops.

“Why’d you stop?”

The glass appears to my right. I stare at it for a second but decide to take it without question and take a sip. The moment I do, I taste something stout but sweet in the back of my throat. I swallow it awkwardly and nearly gag.

“Alcohol? Really?” My throat sort of burns as I sputter to breathe.

“It’s to help you relax, dumbass. You don’t have to suck it down like fucking water,” the blonde snorts. I can imagine the coy smirk on his face as he says this.

“Newsflash rocket-man, I don’t like alcohol.” I return the glass back to him. “Also, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I most certainly don’t need to relax.”

I feel Katsuki’s fingers dig roughly into my skin, and instantly I hiss in pain. I get it; he’s trying to help, but he doesn’t have to make an example of me. “I deserved that,” I agree.

“I know, now shut up.”

I let it slide without so much as a huff and lean back into his hands. Thankfully, Katsuki returns to his previous task, and begins to rub my shoulders again. He’s not great at it, but the pressure he applies actually feels sort of nice. Closing my eyes, I try to enjoy this – unexpected as it may be. But a question has been in the back of my mind since we left the assembly.

“Have you given any thought to where you plan to intern?”

“No,” he says simply. His fingers press a little harder.

I sigh with satisfaction. “Too many this time? You’re amazing Katsuki. I know you will pick the best agency to work with. I’m not so sure though, considering most of mine are out of the country – the best choices. Should I even be concerned with those?”

“Do whatever you feel like. Stop asking me such stupid questions when all that matters is that you’re living your dream,” the blonde replies. I hear him growl beneath his breath like a dog. His fingers stop again. “You’re fucking stubborn, so you’re going to do what you want even if I say different.”

Katsuki’s not completely right about this assumption. I’m stubborn, yes, but I don’t always do the opposite of what he says. In fact, all I want for him to say is that he needs me here. I take his hand in mine and gently kiss the tip of his middle finger. “You may be right,” I say. “But I do value your opinion, Katsuki; above all others.”

The back of my head gently falls into his lap. I realize the blonde is hovering above me; his fingers clutched around my cheeks, holding me in place. His eyes are narrowed. I open my mouth to speak, but he closes the gap between us and roughly pushes his lips against mine. A low hum of satisfaction bubbles in the back of my throat – I’ve waited for this.

I thread my fingers into Katsuki’s wild locks and pull him closer. He seems to like this, because he groans into the kiss and quickly slips his tongue into my mouth, rubbing it against mine. I enjoy this a little while longer; sucking and biting on his lips until a warm sensation in my lower body urges me to push this forward. I wrench his hand from my face and push him back, giggling as I hear the angry grunt that leaves his lips.

“Someone’s eager,” I tease – that makes two of us. I change my position so I am standing in front of him.

Katsuki brings me closer, pulling me between his legs. His fingernails slowly scrape up the skin of my thigh until he reaches the elastic of my panties. But he doesn’t take them off me, choosing instead to rub his thumb in small circles on my hip. This is too much. Why is he being so cautious with me?

I grab a hand full of his hair and tug. Instantly his eyes meet with mine. “Please. I don’t want to waste time playing these games with you, and I know you don’t either.” The sound of my voice is without control. It lacks a bite, but does show how unsteady I am by such a gentle touch.

Katsuki snorts in laughter. “Don’t sugar coat it then. Tell me what the hell you want?”

I feel embarrassed by this question – I always have. Katsuki asks me this each and every time we have sex, and even though I know he does it to help me get there, I still feel apprehensive about it. I bite my lip. I know what I want, but the words never come easy at first.

“I – I want you to break me,” I explain timidly.

Once this comes out of my mouth, I instantly don’t know how I feel about it. Break me. Did I really want Katsuki to do that? To make me regret ever wanting to leave him. I want to be a hero, but not at the cost of losing the one who builds me up when I am down.

I bob my head. “That’s what I want. That’s what I need you to do.”

The blonde stands in front of me and bumps his forehead into mine. I hiss in annoyance, but the deep pools of red that burn like fire before my eyes suddenly perplex me. He knows exactly how I feel about him.

“Lean over the arm of the couch,” the blonde orders.

I do so without complaint, pulling down my panties and discarding them on the floor. Katsuki does the same with his dress pants and boxers after he removes a plastic wrapper from his pocket – a condom I assume. Neither of us make a move to take off our remaining clothing, and by now, I’m sure it doesn’t matter. The direct contact isn’t something Katsuki or I care about when we have sex like this.

As he rolls the condom down over his length, I turn my attention elsewhere, focusing on the feeling in my lower body. It tingles with want, and from the wetness on my thighs I know Katsuki won’t have any trouble slipping himself into me once we get started.

The couch dips behind me and I feel Katsuki push my dress up over my ass. The tip of his cock rubs against my entrance, lubing up the latex before he pushes his entire length inside of me. An instant wave of both pleasure and pain wash over me, and I gasp for air. Katsuki stalls, but I don’t mind. I feel full; a sensation unlike anything I can describe. My legs tremble.

Slowly at first, and without me begging – if I can find the words to do so – Katsuki pulls himself out, then slips himself back inside with the same deliberate intensity. He does this once or twice more before his pace starts to increase. I can hear him grunt as he slams his cock in and out of me, building speed. But I want more.

“H-Harder. Please,” I moan.

I’m happy that he does as I ask. It’s obvious that he wants this just as much. Katsuki grabs my hips, burying his nails into my skin as he fucks me hard. I moan loudly. The slow pressure begins to build.

“Touch yourself,” Katsuki orders.

My face goes warm. Naturally I feel embarrassed by this. The blonde often gives me orders during sex, not because it arouses him – it may – but because I like it. Touching myself is just an easy and intense way to get me off, and Katsuki knows this. I have a small fascination with being told what to do.

Katsuki pulls out slowly, then shoves himself back in. The force he uses is enough to rock the couch just a bit. “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me,” he hisses.

I am almost eager to do it again. Instead I listen, slipping my hand down between my legs. I spread apart my wet folds and rub hard circles around my clit, trying to match it with Katsuki’s thrusts. Deep and long moans leave my lips; I am nearly there.

“Fuck,” I cry, feeling the pressure begin to spread.

Katsuki grabs a hand full of my hair, yanking my head back. I cry out in pleasure as the coil in my lower body unwinds. My body shivers wildly and my eyes roll back. After I ride out the last bit of my orgasm, I collapse against the arm of the couch and try to help Katsuki reach his own by rocking my hips with his unwavering rhythm.

I beg quietly that he releases soon; my body aches and my right cheek burns from the contact I’m getting from the sofa. Fortunately he reaches his orgasm, cursing beneath his breath as he does. I feel his cock twitch inside of me. The blonde carelessly thrusts into me once more, then goes still. We stay like this for a few seconds, coming down from the high. Katsuki is the first to move. He slowly pulls himself out and stands – I shudder from the emptiness.

“Go on and get cleaned up,” he tells me.

I watch him disappear into the kitchen again. Slowly I stand up, hearing the bones in my legs pop. I honestly feel like a bowl of jelly, wobbling around as I walk into the closest bathroom. I don’t take a bath, but I clean off with a wet, soapy rag. Once I’m done, I slip back on my dress and return to the living room feeling refreshed, but also very tired.

Katsuki is also dressed, wearing the same outfit but without the tie and vest. His sleeves are rolled up his arms, and a bowl of ice cream is sitting in his lap.

“You know me too well,” I say with a laugh. I love sweets after sex, especially ice cream.

I take the bowl from his lap and plop down beside him, bringing my feet up to rest next to me on the couch. I begin to eat in silence. The blonde seems to be in thought again, and honestly, I’m a little disappointed.

“Want a bite?” I bring the bowl into his line of sight, but he doesn’t accept it. Instead he curls his nose in disgust and scowls at me.

“Got your attention at least,” I laugh, sticking my tongue out at him.

Katsuki grunts in annoyance. He leans forward and grabs my face, turning my right cheek towards him. “The hell did you do?”

“Battle marks,” I joke. “The couch did it, and it’s not the only one. Your fingernails are sharp. They cut right into my hips.”

“I could have burned you, so don’t complain.” The blonde huffs a sigh.

I laugh and sit the bowl down, curling up to his side. “I trust you.” My fingers rub circles into his arm; the way I know he likes it. He may not say anything, but he’s told me before it’s comforting whenever his quirk is giving him trouble. It must be, considering the obsessive use in which he used it during the exam. A thought is spurred on by this.

“Be honest with me. We won’t be seeing much of one another once we start our last internship, will we?”

“No,” he answers. “I doubt we’ll be seeing each other at all once you leave the country.”

My heart feels heavy at this. He knows about my recommendations, about my idea to travel abroad. “Would you hate me if I were to go?”

“I don’t care if you go. If that’s what you want, then stop bothering me with your questions. I’m not going to be jerked around by your fucking indecisions,” he explains. He’s lying; I know he is.

“Why are you doing this? You’re arrogant and sometimes selfish, but you’re not a liar. Why won’t you tell me how you feel?” I sit up on my knees and gently move onto his lap. It’s the best way I can keep him from turning his attention elsewhere.

“Let it go,” he snarls. “I’m not fucking telling you because I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

I slam my hand down on the arm of the sofa. My entire body shivers in anger. “You’re a fucking liar. I’m not stupid Katsuki. I know you tried to fail me during the exam, and I can see that you’re upset about me passing. I don’t want to leave you, but I want to know if staying here with you is going to be a fucking waste of my time.” Tears are on the verge of pouring down my face.

“Then stay. I want you to stay, stupid girl, but don’t blame me if you feel miserable with me,” Katsuki says. His voice is not as angry as I thought, but it’s filled with pain.

I understand it now. He’s certain I will leave him if ever I feel alone. His work may cause him to be away from me, since I won’t be doing much while in Japan, but honestly, we have no idea what the future holds for us. I do know that I will never leave him as long as he will have me.

“I want to stay with you,” I admit. The anger in my body slowly begins to fade away. I lean forward and bump my forehead against his. “Please don’t doubt my feelings for you. I’ve been with you for so long that I don’t want to know what it’s like without you.”

The blonde slips his arm around my waist. “When the hell did you get to be so fucking annoying?”

I laugh at this. “It’s your fault. I learned it from watching you.”

He grunts in annoyance. I kiss him one last time on the lips and lean against his body. The sound of the television fills the silence of the room, and for once I allow Katsuki to remain lost in his thoughts. I’ve said all I need to. I do love him, even if I’ve never said it. The funny thing about love is, we don’t have to admit it for it to be true. Our actions towards one another is more than enough to prove it.

As I cuddle into the arms of the blonde, I begin to think about the future a little. I see us, just the same as we are now, sitting together like this. We’re happy. I’d put my entire future on hold, just for him. Besides, working again with Backdraft might not be so bad.

#Katsuki Bakugou #MHA #My Hero Academia #First Person View #1st Pov #Katsuki Bakugou x OC

[rehnro]

Instruct a man, you instruct an individual. Instruct a woman, you instruct a nation. (Moroccan proverb)

Checking into Morocco: The trip to Morocco didn’t get off too well when my flight from Munich was delayed the evening before leaving me with only two or three hours of sleep between repacking and a 6am flight from Stansted. It did work out in the end and Ryanair’s service levels didn’t fail to remind that you should not use them unless there is really no alternative. The flight was smooth and we landed a bit ahead of time leaving just the border to clear. Easier said than done. All foreigners have to fill a landing card, but there was zero pens available. So put a smile on and borrow one. Took me 20min in total (good I wasn’t in a rush I guess). Next stop was my rental car. At €50 for the two days plus petrol it seemed a good choice. Avoids having to go the center to get a lift for same or more fare in some dodgy old car. Especially on the way back the additional flexibility should come handy. The funny thing was first that you have to return the car with a quarter of the tank full and secondly cars needs to be clean in and outside. Given the state of the roads to Imlil (base village for Toubkal hikers) this means I need to get a car wash sorted prior to return or just pay some €12 for them to do it (I am certain that this add-on is a firm part of their profit margin ;o).

Getting to Imlil: With data on my BT mobile priced at £5/mb (!) I had little desire to use google maps or any data for that matter. So normal navigation by asking actual people (that don’t speak English all that well) was on the menu. Unusual these days. The signposts were close to useless due to lack of signs or them being all in Arabic. However, a petrol warden drew me a simple map that worked spot on. The 75-80km from Marrakech airport to Imlil to me about 90mins and allowed for a start at 1.15pm.

Hiking up to ‘Refuge du Toubkal‘: I had some bread first given I hadn’t had a proper meal since my Schnitzel at Munich airport last night and got water. Off we go and this time not with a crazy heavy bag, but say 15kg (the new camera & go pro & batteries adding back some of the saved weight from new equipment). Overall it required a moderate 4h 45min total to hike up ~1,500m over 10km distance to reach the refuge at 3,207m. This time I arrived at 6pm and hence before sunset. Many of the people I passed on the way would arrive 2h later or I didn’t see them at all (one English couple/friends I asked if they had torches given their speed would mean they finish in darkness and can end in tears).

The weather looked initially worse than back in December as it was snowing in Imlil already (1,740m altitude). However, not as much gusty wind and no comparison to the rain/snow storm last time. Views were limited to say the least given the precipitation. Most importantly though given the again tight timetable of two days, the forecasts were for fine weather Tuesday am and only little new snow (vs 25cm last time). Next bigger snow is only expected Wednesday pm (10-15cm). It was very cold though closer to the refuge (-10 degrees?) and even my ice climbing gloves didn’t cut the mustard. Good to have mitts as back-up though I will try the Muntain Hardwear ice climbing gloves to start.

Recharging batteries at the refuge: After check-in and some hot tea, I had to rest for a good hour to recoup strength. Been a long day. After a solid dinner (chicken, potato, carrots, soup, bread, tea) it was time to prepare for tomorrow (about 2.2km distance in steep upwards terrrain including just under 1,000m altitude gain to the summit at 4,167m). Breakfast at 6.30am. Not early enough for sunrise, but before the snow gets warm. Most importantly … I hope my watch will fix the navigation aspect this time (having failed miserably once before). The Toubkal route was the first thing I programmed when I got my Suunto Ambit Peak 3 recently.

One tip – don’t forget your passport: A Dutch / Moroccan couple left their passports in their Imlil hotel when they decided to go hiking at short notice. She had to get her mum to confirm passport details or be refused to stay at the refuge. That’s pretty stupid of the refuge people to say the least. You are a refuge for a reason and sending unprepared hikers back down in darkness is only asking for trouble. Not really an issue for international travellers, but be warned still.

Reaching North Africa’s highest peak: After a brief breakfast I set out at 7am. I think only the english bloke who also stayed in my room left earlier (5.30ish). This time I took the correct valley up and since it was daylight already it was hard to miss. Soon after me five Italian ski mountaineers followed suit as well as a British  group of three hikers. The snowfall hadn’t been too bad though there was some trail-breaking required on the less frozen parts of the route. Here the Italians on their ski’s had a much faster pace. Weather wise there were some clear patches early on, but soon clouds arrived, wind set in and temperatures dropped well below zero (eventually I had to put on my mitts). The route is pretty much a straight line up te valley until you reach the ridge, which you follow for anothwr 30mins to the summit. My pace was relatively moderate, but steady and I reached the top at 11.30am after 4,5h for the 1,000m altitude gain. Mission accomplished! Both the Italians and the English team beat me to it, but that’s not important (they went to bed after while I felt in strong condition to push all the way down). Thinner air was a headwind while physical fitness was rock solid. After an uneventful 30mins at the summit (for there was little to see unfortunately) and a few refreshments, I made my way back down and reached the refuge 13.45. Parts of the way down you can actually slide on your bum and I once more appreciated the GPS on my Suunto that gave confidence even when visibility dropped to 5-10m.

Get me out of here! My desire to spend more time at the refuge (I had considered lunch) dropped significantly when I realised that ‘someone’ had opened the two dry bags I left behind (probably the same guy that charged me €2 for one cup of tea!). Nothing was missing (I took my money with me), but it’s just sad. I did let the guys know that this not cool, but the response only I got was that i should have put my stuff in (their) locker. Very helpful. This and the rip-off culture of Marrakesh really leave a bad image of Morocco (I have been advised since that outside Marrakesh its much better). By 2pm I was back on the trail, which remained largely snow-covered and new snow kept on coming. Without a single stop (apart from a few conversations with hikers heading up) it took 3h back to the car in Imlil.

Lost in Marrakesh: Driving the 80km back were uneventful. Life got a little trickier when I drove into the city center without a map or clue (still without mobile data). I found a parking space near the great square and took it gladly (€7/night were a rip-off, but I didn’t care after 10hours hiking and two hours driving today). Then quickly across the bazar and into the medina (old town) to hopefully find the Cafe Arabic that firstly sells a much desired cold beer (otherwise really hard to come by) and secondly has decent wi-fi. The latter was important as I still needed a place to sleep (it was 8.30pm by now). The issue is to find your way round the medina. Not even google maps works here. After trying my luck alone I ended up tipping a guy to get me there. Within 30mins I had my beer, spaghetti carbonara, booked a great hostel nearby and had caught up with events. Prices in this cafe are very much like home (i.e. expensive), food quality very average and the guests almost exclusively expats and tourists. But its nice and a welcome refuge from the craze of the buzzing markets. From there the maze continued and I needed one more guy to get me to the hostel (I paid him €4 to do so … so pretty much like an ‘Uber’ minimum fare (£5 in London) or a 15min taxi ride to the airport (MAD40) … but he wasnt happy still!).

Quality time at Equity Point Hostel: I checked in around 9pm. The value deal was for €9/night including breakfast. Respect though I would miss breakfast that is only served 8am to 10am. As most places in the old town, the building looks rather shabby from the outside. Once you get in, you’ll find plenty of space, a pool, a roof top and a bar (even showing Champions league with City beating Monaco 5:3 & selling drinks). The best thing about hostels is that you usually meet people and equity point didn’t let me down. After a quick shower I met 4 of my 6 room mates in the bar. On one hand two brothers from New Zealand (not that I would have guessed, Nico and Deniro?). Nico is an engineer involved in the new Tottenham stadium (to make some money for the next travel I gathered) and the other a lawyer who is about to start a 6mth job with HSBC in Hong Kong. They had managed to get hold of two local coats from €35 each today and now blended in well into the streets of Marrakesh. On the other there were two French girls who are teachers as I understood and just spent 3 weeks working in Southern Morocco (Clo & Julie). Over a few bottles of wine we touched probably on every main topic there is. Politics (in Europe, US and even NZ), refugees, religion, backgrounds (the brothers have been travelling a lot over the years), favorite travel destinations, socialism vs capitalism, Australian binge drinking and aggression, global warming, London’s drug culture  (list not exhaustive by any means!) …  you name it! One of the brothers had trekked to Everest base camp in January this year and so we had a good amount of chat on mountains and Nepal too. Loved every moment and really hope our paths’ will cross again!

The three arabic words I picked up …

‘BsaHa’ – cheers / May god give you health

‘Jamal’ = Camel

‘Djellaba’ – Traditional Berber robe (what the two kiwi’s wear in the picture)

Key takeaways: Visit this place in central turkey (I forget the name Clo ;o), Brasil (Julie lived there for a year also teaching i believe), New Orleans (best nightlife ever according to Nico), don’t work for Australian farmers (they rip you off apparently though farm work doubles the length of your stay I learned), take a solar charger to Nepal and buy a local SIM.

After six hours sleep and an actually painless transfer to the airport (I even had time to get the car washed … out of principle) it was time to say good-bye. I guess I have to come back to see the ‘other Morocco’ one day.

وداعا

(‘wadaeaan’ – goodbye)

Morocco’s cold shoulder: Climbing Jebel Toubkal Instruct a man, you instruct an individual. Instruct a woman, you instruct a nation. (Moroccan proverb)